Signature

Signature (pronounced sig-nuh-cher or sig-nuh-choor)

(1) A person's name, or a mark representing it, as signed personally or by deputy, as in subscribing a letter or other document.

(2) The act of signing a document.

(3) In music, a sign or set of signs at the beginning of a staff to indicate the key or the time of a piece.

(4) In broadcasting, a song, musical arrangement, sound effect, etc., used as a theme identifying a program.

(5) Any unique, distinguishing aspect, feature, or mark.

(6) In computing, as digital signature, any one of a number of attempts to create a mechanism whereby a digital object can have the same unique identifying characteristic as a physical signature in ink; in cryptography, data attached to a message certifying the message originated from its claimed source; in email and some other variations of communication, test, images or other objects collectively appended usually at the end of a message, analogous with a traditional signature on a letter.

(7) In digital forensic analysis, as digital signature, a term used to refer to any collection of characteristics which can be used as an identifier of origin, intent etc;

(8) The part of a prescription for pharmaceuticals instructing the patient the frequency and quantity in which a drug should be administered (US only).

(9) As an adjective, something intended to be emblematic of an institution or individual (signature dish signature cocktail, signature scent etc).

(10) In printing, a sheet of paper printed with several pages that upon folding will become a section or sections of a book; such a sheet so folded.

(11) In mathematics, a tuple specifying the sign of coefficients in any diagonal form of a quadratic form.

(12) In medicine, a resemblance between the external character of a disease and those of some physical agent (obsolete).

1525-1535: From the Old & Middle French signature, from the Medieval Latin signātura, future active periphrastic of the verb signāre (to sign), the construct being signum (sign), + -tura, feminine of -turus, the future active periphrastic suffix.  The first use with a link to English appears to have been as a kind of document defined in Scottish law.  The Medieval Latin signatura, was, in Classical Latin a rescript (the matrix of a seal).  The meaning "one's own name written in one's own hand" is from 1570s, which replaced the early-fifteenth century “sign-manual” in this sense.  The use in musical notation in which composers used "signs placed it the beginning of a staff to indicate the key and rhythm" was noted first in 1806.  Signature began to be used in the generalized sense of "a distinguishing mark of any kind" as early as the 1620s.

Non est factum

Historically, in contract law a signature was binding on the party who signed and obliged the performance of the specific terms of the contract.  Even if someone could prove they signed because of their own misunderstandings or in an act of carelessness even to the point of gross negligence, courts would still usually enforce the contract but a notable exception was the doctrine of non est factum.  Translated literally from the Latin as "it is not my deed", it’s available as a defense where a person has been induced to sign something in circumstances where the contents of what was signed differ fundamentally from what the person was led to believe.  Where a plea is upheld, the court can set aside the contract (void ab initio).  Special circumstances must exist for the defense to succeed: it does not cover a claim where someone either misunderstood or failed to read the terms and conditions.

An octuple of Lindsay Lohan signatures on Lohanic merchandise. 

It’s novel in that it differs from other aspects of contract law such as the provisions which permit judges to strike-out particular clauses or even entire contracts if their enforcement is held to be “unconscionable”.  Non est factum is available even where terms and conditions can be reasonable such as the sale of a property for fair value; it hinges instead on the state of mind of the signee and the circumstances under which a signature was induced.  Typically, courts are most sympathetic to “innocent victims”, those who through no fault of their own (those illiterate, deaf, blind or suffering some other relevant incapacity) could not understand the document they were signing and relied upon another for advice.  Such is the reverence in contract law for the sanctity of the signature, a heavy evidential onus of proof is laid upon a claimant for non est factum to succeed; it’s a rare and exceptional defense.

The signature dish

Noted chefs and great restaurants often have signature dishes, not necessarily unique to them but something with which they’re famously associated.  Countries and regions also have signature dishes, sometimes advertised and promoted and sometimes just a link which develops over time.  There can even be disputes if the origin of something is thought a source of pride; there are factions in both Australia and New Zealand which lay claim to the pavlova. 

Minnesota Hotdish.

Despite the name, the concept of the Minnesota’s signature hotdish didn’t originate there and, with variations, is popular across the Upper Midwest region of the United States.  As a dish, such is the simplicity in preparation and adaptability in content that something recognizably close has probably been a feature of human cuisine for as long as the technical means of production has been available.  Anything of the hotdish type contains usually a starch, a meat, canned or frozen vegetables with canned soup as the binding agent; cooked in the one flat dish, it’s served heated.  The distinguishing characteristic of the classic Minnesota hotdish is the use of mushroom soup but beyond that, there’s much variation, inventiveness encouraged by the many hotdish completions in the region.  As well as the traditional beef base, tuna, turkey and chicken are used, pasta is often replaced by rice or potatoes and vegetarian versions have appeared.  The critical aspect seems to be the texture, while a Minnesota hotdish won’t entirely maintain the shape when sliced, it should have sufficient integrity for the potatoes or breadcrumbs to stay atop and not sink into the mix.

Hubert Humphrey, Cardinal Francis Spellman, President Lyndon Johnson & Richard Nixon, twenty-third Alfred E Smith dinner, New York, 16 October 1968.

Hubert Horatio Humphrey (1911–1978) served as a senator for Minnesota (1949-1964 & 1971-1978) and as US vice president (1965-1969).  He was the Democratic Party’s nominee for president in 1968.  As part of the 1968 campaign, his wife’s Minnesota hotdish recipe was published, unusual today in that it didn’t include the potato gems which usually now sit atop the concoction.  Mrs Humphrey’s culinary campaign contribution wasn’t decisive, her husband, although running Republican Richard Nixon close in the popular vote (Nixon (31,783,783 votes; 43.4%), Humphrey (31,271,839; 42.7%)), lost the electoral college (Nixon, 32 states & 301 votes, Humphrey 13 states & 191 votes).

Mrs Humphrey’s Ingredients

4 tablespoons shortening

2 green bell peppers, sliced

1 medium onion, chopped

1 lb (500 g) ground beef

1½ half teaspoons salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

2 eggs

2 cups whole kernel corn

4 medium tomatoes, sliced

½ cup dry bread crumbs

Butter

Mrs Humphrey’s Instructions

(1) Put shortening in skillet; lightly fry green peppers, onion and ground beef for 3 minutes or until partially done. Salt and pepper. Remove from heat; stir in eggs and mix well.

(2) Place 1 cup corn in casserole. Top with layer of meat mixture and layer of sliced tomatoes.

(3) Repeat until corn, meat mixture and tomatoes are used.

(4) Cover casserole with crumbs. Dot with bits of butter.

(5) Bake at 375º F (190º C) for 1 hour or until heated thoroughly.

It can be finished in a grill to add something to the cheese.  Serve with a side salad and rolls.

Section

Section (pronounced sek-shuhn)

(1) A part cut off or separated.

(2) A distinct part or subdivision of anything (object, data set, country, social class, military establishment et al).

(3) In text, a distinct part or subdivision within a document or set of documents (periodicals, newspapers, legal codes et al), the idea emulated in many forms of broadcasting.

(4) One of a number of parts that can be fitted together to make a whole or a larger component.

(5) An act or instance of cutting; separation by cutting.

(6) In surgery, the making of an incision or the physical incision (in medical slang, “section” & “Caesar” contest the right to be the colloquial short form for “Caesarean section” with the latter apparently the winner.

(7) In pathology, a thin slice of a tissue taken for microscopic examination (sometimes called a specimen although section has a specific technical meaning related to its suitability for use in microscopy.

(8) In all physical sciences, a slice or part (of a mineral, metal, plant etc) removed for examination or other purposes.

(9) A graphical or mathematical representation of an object as it would appear if cut by a plane, showing its internal structure (in architecture, engineering etc).

(10) In geometry, a plane surface formed by cutting through a solid; the shape or area of such a plane surface.

(11) In geology, a sequence of rock layers.

(12) In North American land law (some jurisdictions in US & Canada), an area one mile square (640 acres; 2.6 km²; 259 hectares).

(13) In New Zealand land law a plot of land (of varying size) for building on, especially in a suburban area

(14) In military establishments, classically a small unit (as few as 6-8) consisting of two or more squads (as few as 2+3), several squads when assembled comprising a platoon (terminology and numbers vary greatly between militaries and branches within).

(15) In military terminology any small tactical grouping, either standing or created ad-hoc for specific missions; as “staff section”, the administrative and organizational apparatus attached to an operational unit or units.

(16) In the design of carriages for railroads, a division of a sleeping car containing both an upper and a lower berth.

(17) In railroad administration, a length of track, roadbed, signal equipment etc, maintained by one crew.

(18) In mass-transit, any of two or more trains, buses, trams etc, running on the same route and schedule at the same time, one right behind the other, and considered as one unit, as when a second is necessary to accommodate more passengers than the first can carry.

(19) In mass transit (Australia & New Zealand), a fare stage on a bus, train or tram etc (similar to the sectors used by airlines).

(20) In botany, a segment of a naturally segmented fruit, as of an orange or grapefruit.

(21) In botany, a taxonomic rank below the genus (and subgenus if present), but above the species.

(22) In zoology, an informal taxonomic rank below the order ranks and above the family ranks.

(23) In art, as “sectional art”, a single work designed to be displayed as separate pieces (as opposed to the single piece collage or montage (made from many components) or the diptych, triptych, polyptych etc (where all the pieces are in some way attached to create a (usually) symmetrical whole.

(24) In music, a division based on the instruments used or their purpose (rhythm section; brass section; string section et al).

(25) In music, an extended division of a composition or movement that forms a coherent part of the structure.

(26) In publishing, as the section mark (sometimes called the signature), a mark used to indicate a subdivision of a book, chapter etc or as a mark of reference to a footnote (the symbol § denotes a section in a document)

(27) In bookbinding (sometimes called the signature, gathering, gather or quire) a folded printing sheet or sheets ready for gathering and binding.

(28) In live theatre, one of a series of circuits for controlling certain lights (footlight, down-lights et al).

(29) In category theory, a right inverse.

(30) In some jurisdictions, a mechanism by which a mentally disturbed person may be confined in an institution (under appropriate statute) for examination to determine whether a longer or permanent order of confinement is justified.

(31) In military slang (as “to section” or “section 8”), to dismiss an individual from the service on mental health grounds.

1550-1560: From the Middle English seccioun (in astronomy, “the intersection of two straight lines; a division of a scale”), from the Old French section, from the Latin sectionem (stem of sectiō) (a cutting; cutting off, excision, amputation of diseased parts of the body etc), from sectus, past participle of secāre (to cut), from the primitive Indo-European root sek (to cut).   The construct was sec(t) (āre) + -iōn.  The meaning “a part cut off or separated from the rest” dates from the early fifteenth century while that of a “drawing representing something as if cut through” was from the 1660s.  In English, from the 1550s, there was the sense of “an act of cutting or dividing”; that is now archaic or preserved only in some aspects of engineering and in medical phrases, most famously the Caesarian section.  The meaning “a subdivision of a written work, statute etc” was first noted in the 1570s when the structure in publishing was (more or less) standardized: books divided into chapters, chapters into sections and sections into paragraphs or breaks, a system still reflected by modern word-processing software.  Section can have defined meanings (such as in publishing or land law) but the in general use the synonyms include cut, division, snippet, part, segment, slice, piece & specimen.  Section is a noun & verb, sectionalism & sectionality are nouns, sectioning is a noun & verb, sectional & sectionary are nouns & adjectives, sectioned is a verb (and a non-standard adjective), sectionable is an adjective and sectionally is an adverb; the noun plural is sections.

Three-piece sectional art, distinguished a triptych in that the three sections are hung separately.  Some commercial galleries do describe such products as "triptychs" because the word has such an association with "high art". 

In music, although functionally the distinctions had long been understood, the idea of sections in a band or orchestra didn’t come into use until the 1880s (the sections either by type (strings) or function (rhythm).  The use of section to describe the one square mile (640 acres) blocks used for purposes of sub-dividing public lands dates from 1785.  The famous “section 8” began as World War II (1939-1945) US military slang referring to the passage in army regulations under which as soldier could be discharged from the service for reasons of mental illness (not necessarily defined as insanity).  The verb section came into use in publishing in the early nineteenth century in the sense of “divide a text into sections”, extended by the 1890s to “cut through so as to present a section”.  The adjective sectional in the sense of “pertaining to a division of a larger part” was first noted in 1806 but it is mere coincidence this was the year in which the thousand year old Holy Roman Empire was dissolved.  It originally did mean “of or pertaining to some particular section or region of a country as distinct from others”, something would soon often be heard in the US political vocabulary in the decades leading up to the Civil War (1861-1965).  The noun sectionalism emerged in parallel an originally meant “sectional prejudice or spirit; the clashing of sectional interests” but it soon added the sense “a confinement of interests to a local sphere”.  It was in use in US English by 1836 but, again under the influence of those forces which would lead to the Civil War, it was in frequent use by the mid-1850s.

The meaning “composed or made up of several independent sections that fit together” was in use in engineering and other mechanical fields by the mid-eighteenth century.  The specific noun meaning “piece of furniture composed of sections which can be used separately” appeared in the early 1960s (a clipping of sectional seat, sectional sofa etc in use since 1949) but the preferred modern descriptor is “modular”.  The noun cross-section (section of something made by a plane passing through it at a right angle to one of its axes) dates from 1748 and was first applied to the sketches and plans of engineers and architects.  In the early twentieth century, it picked up the figurative sense of “a representative sample”, emerging apparently in the social sciences before entering general use.  The noun subsection (also as sub-section) (part or division of a section) dates from the 1620s.  The noun midsection (also as mid-section) (middle of the human body, the midriff or belly) was coined in the 1930s for commercial purposes.  Other forms (quarter-section, half-section, multi-section, un-sectioned, bisection etc were coined as the need arose.

Lindsay Lohan in sections, hung above a "sectional sofa".  "Sectional furniture" was first advertised in the late 1940s and offered more flexibility in that the pieces could be assembled in a variety of configurations, better to suit the available space.  The modern trend is to describe such pieces as "modular furniture" but the art is still sectional; modular art is something different. 

The military slang (as “to section” or “section 8”) referred to World War II (1939-1945) US Army regulations (detailed in Section VIII) under which an individual could be dismissed from the service on mental health grounds.  These grounds provided for the discharge of men who were deemed mentally unfit for military service so didn’t exactly follow the conventions followed in civilian medicine; proven (or confessed) homosexuality could for example be the grounds for a Section VIII discharge.  The term entered popular culture in the post-war years when it was used in fictional depictions of military life, often as a humorous device following the attempts of soldiers to be “sectioned” as a way out of the military.  Most militaries have since adopted practices which align more closely with the mainstream handling of mental health conditions.

The Caesarian section (delivery of a baby by cutting through the abdomen of the mother) was apparently first described as “a section” in 1923 although “a Caesar” seems to be the preferred modern medical slang.  The operation had first been documented in the 1530s and the name was based on that supposedly being the method by which Julius Caesar (100-44 BC; Roman general and dictator of Rome 49-44 BC) was delivered.  Modern thought has rejected that notion and the legend thus also accounts for the historic tracing of his cognomen to the Latin caesus, past participle of caedere (to cut).  If there’s any basis to this, it may have been an ancestor who was so born because Caesar's mother lived to see his adulthood and there’s no record of any woman in antiquity surviving the procedure which was performed usually when the mother had already died.  Modern medical analysts concur with the improbability of the link and the first known attempt to on a live woman was in the early sixteenth century and as late as the 1800s, before antiseptics and blood transfusions were routinely available, there was a 50% mortality rate.

Button

Button (pronounced buht-n)

(1) A small disk, knob, or the like for sewing or otherwise attaching to an article, as of clothing, serving as a fastening when passed through a buttonhole or loop.

(2) Anything resembling a button, especially in being small and round, as any of various candies, ornaments, tags, identification badges, reflectors, markers, etc.

(3) A badge or emblem bearing a name, slogan, identifying figure, etc., for wear on the lapel, dress, etc.

(4) Any small knob or disk pressed to activate an electric circuit, release a spring, or otherwise operate or open a machine, small door, toy, etc.

(5) In botany, a bud or other protuberant part of a plant.

(6) In mycology, a young or undeveloped mushroom or any protuberant part of a fungus.

(7) In zoological anatomy, any of various small parts or structures resembling a button, as the rattle at the tip of the tail in a very young rattlesnake.

(8) In boxing slang, the point of the chin.

(9) In architecture, a fastener for a door, window, etc., having two arms and rotating on a pivot that is attached to the frame (also called turn button).

(10) In metallurgy, when assaying, the small globule or lump of metal at the bottom of a crucible after fusion.

(11) In fencing, the protective, blunting knob fixed to the point of a foil.

(12) In horology, alternative name for the crown, by which watch is wound.

(13) In the graphical user interface of computers and related devices, a small, button-shaped or clearly defined area that the user can click on or touch to choose an option.

(14) Slang term for the peyote cactus.

(15) A small gathering of people about two-thirds of the drinks are spiked with LSD.  Those who drink the un-spiked are the buttons responsible for babysitting the trippers (1960s west coast US use, now extinct).

(16) A series of nuts & bolts holding together a three-piece wheel.  Such wheels are very expensive because of the forging process and the ability to stagger offsets to create large lips.

(17) In boiler-making, the piece of a weld that pulls out during the destructive testing of spot welds

(18) In rowing, a projection around the loom of an oar that prevents it slipping through the rowlock.

(19) South African slang for methaqualone tablet.

(20) A unit of length equal to one twelfth of an inch (British, archaic).

(21) Among luthiers, in the violin-family instrument, the near semi-circular shape extending from the top of the back plate of the instrument, meeting the heel of the neck.

(22) In the plural (as buttons), a popular nickname for young ladies, whose ability to keep shirt buttons buttoned is in inverse proportion to the quantity of strong drink taken.

1275-1325: From the Middle English boto(u)n (knob or ball attached to another body (especially as used to hold together different parts of a garment by being passed through a slit or loop)), from the Anglo-French, from the Old & Middle French boton (button (originally, a bud)), from bouter & boter (to thrust, butt, strike, push) from the Proto-Germanic buttan, from the primitive Indo-European root bhau- (to strike); the button thus, etymologically, is something that pushes up, or thrusts out.  Records exist of the surname Botouner (button-maker) as early as the mid-thirteenth century (and the Modern French noun bouton (button) actually dates from the twelfth century).  It was cognate with the Spanish boton and the Italian bottone.  The pugilistic slang (point of the chin) was first noted in 1921.  First use of button as something pushed to create an effect by opening or closing an electrical circuit is attested from 1840s and the use in metallurgy and welding is based by analogy on descriptions of mushrooms.  The verb button emerged in the late fourteenth century in the sense of "to furnish with buttons" which by the early 1600s had extended (when speaking of garments) to "to fasten with buttons".  The button-down shirt collar was first advertised in 1916.

New uses continue to emerge as technology changes:  The phrase button-pusher to describe someone "deliberately annoying or provocative" was first recorded in the 1970s and hot-button issue appeared in political science journals as early as 1954, apparently a derivation of the brief use in the press of big red-button and hot-button to (somewhat erroneously) describe the mechanics of launching a nuclear attack.  In the 1980s, the now mostly extinct button-pusher had been co-opted as a somewhat condescending description of photographers both by journalists and snobby art critics, the former suggesting some lack of affinity with words, the latter, an absence of artistic skill. 

2022 Mercedes-Benz EQS 56 inch (1.42 m) single-panel screen.  There are no physical buttons on the dashboard.

In cars, as in aircraft, the shifting of controls for core and ancillary systems from individual buttons and switches to combined or multi-function controllers began to accelerate during the 1960s, a reaction to the increasing number of electrically activated functions being installed to the point where, if left individualised, in some of the more electronic vehicles, space for all the buttons would have been marginal and ergonomics worse even than it was.  Some very clever designs of multi-function controllers did appear but in the twenty-first century, by the time LED flat-screen technology had become elsewhere ubiquitous, it became possible to integrate entire system control environments into a single screen which, able to display either one or a combination of several sub-systems at a time, meant space became effectively unlimited, arrays of virtual buttons and switches available in layers. 

1965 Jaguar 3.8 S-Type.

The manufacturers liked the change because it was so much cheaper to produce and install than an array of individual buttons, switches, instruments and lights, behind each of which ran at least one and sometimes several wires or lines, requiring wiring schematics that were sometimes baffling even to experts who needed sometime to track literally miles of wiring.   While now using actually even more wiring, the new systems are functionally better although their long-term reliability remains uncertain.  What will certainly be lost is the sometimes sensual atmospherics the tactile, analogue world of buttons could summon.

Centre console in 1993 Mercedes-Benz 600 SEL (W140).

The W140 (1991-1998) was probably peak-button and it won't happen again.  The W140 was end-of-era stuff in many ways and was the last of the old-style exercises in pure engineering with which Mercedes-Benz re-built its reputation in the post-war years; what followed would increasingly show the influence of accountants.  Best of the W140s were the early, 408 bhp (304 kw) 600 SELs tuned for top end power; the 6.0 litre (M-120; 1991-2001) V12 would later be toned-down a little and thoughts of the 8.0 litre V16 and W18 prototypes entering production were shelved as the economic climate of the early 1990s proved less buoyant than had been expected.  The subsequent concerns about climate changed doomed any hope of resurrection but as something of a consolation, AMG offered a 7.3 litre version of the V12.  Diana, Princess of Wales (1961-1997) died in the hire-car (2.8 litre six) version of the W140.             

Pressed or pushed, many buttons needed.

The literal (physical) button-hole was noted in tailoring first during the 1560s, the figurative sense "to detain (someone) in unwillingly conversation” dating from 1862, a variation of the earlier button-hold (1834) and button-holder (1806), all based on the image is of holding someone by the coat-button so as to detain them.  The adjectival push-button ("characterized by the use of push-buttons) emerged in 1945 as a consequence of the increasingly electronic military systems then in wide deployment.  The earlier form “push-buttons" was from 1903, a modification of the noun push-button (button pressed with the finger to effect some operation) from 1865, then applied to mechanical devices.  The earlier adjectival form was “press-button” (1892) derived from the noun (1879).  For no apparent reason, it was the earlier “press of a button” which tended in the 1950s & 1960s to be preferred to “push of a button” to express the concern felt at the ease with which the US and USSR could trigger global thermo-nuclear war although “flick of a switch” also achieved much currency.  None were exactly usefully descriptive of a complex chain of events but it’s true in a nuclear launch, many buttons and switches are involved.

Button theory: Button theory suggests buttons can be done-up or undone.  Noted empiricist Lindsay Lohan has for some years been undertaking a longitudinal study to test theory.

Shapes and sizes.

The fear of buttons is koumpounophobia, the construct being the Modern Greek κουμπί (koumpí) +‎ -phobia and the word, like many describing phobias is a neologism.  Koumpi was from the Ancient Greek κομβίον (kombíon) translates as button in its two literal senses (a fastener for clothing or a device for instrument or remote mechanical control).  A button in Greek is thus κουμπί (koumpí) (the plural κουμπιά) and the verb is κουμπώνω (koumpóno).  In the Ancient Greek the lexemic unit koump- didn’t exist although it did have κομβίον (kombíon (which exists in Modern Greek as komvíon)) which meant buckle.  It may seem as strange omission because Ancient Greek had κουμπούνω, (koumpouno) which meant “to button” but the root was κύαμος (komos or koumos) meaning “broad bean” and, because there were no buttons in the Greece of Antiquity, they used appropriately sized & shaped beans as clothes fasteners.  The construct of koumpouno (to button) koum(os) + + πονέω (poneo) (to work; to exert), the idea of a bean which is used again and again.  The suffix -phobia (fear of a specific thing; hate, dislike, or repression of a specific thing) was from the New Latin, from the Classical Latin, from the Ancient Greek -φοβία (-phobía) and was used to form nouns meaning fear of a specific thing (the idea of a hatred came later).

Lindsay Lohan buttons up.

So, in the narrow technical sense, an etymologist might insist koumpounophobia is the fear of clothing fasteners rather than buttons of all types but that seems not helpful and it’s regarded as a generalised aversion and one said sometimes associated with kyklophobia (the fear of circles or other round objects) and especially the surprisingly common trypophobia (fear of holes (particularly if clustered or in some way arranged in a pattern)).  Estimates of the prevalence of the condition have been given by some but these are unverified and it’s not clear if those who for whatever reason prefer zips, Velcro or some other fastener are included and with phobias, numbers really should include only those where the aversion has some significant impact on life.  The symptoms suffered can include (1) an inability to tolerate the sight, sound, or texture of buttons, (2) feelings of panic, dread, or terror when seeing or thinking about buttons, (3) an acknowledgment that the fear is either wholly irrational or disproportionate to the potential danger.  Koumpounophobia reactions are usually automatic & uncontrollable and the source may be unknown or experiential (exposure to some disturbing imagery or description of buttons or an actual event involving buttons such as swallowing one when a child).  Like many phobias, the physical reactions can include a rapid heartbeat, shortness of breath, trembling, excessive sweating, nausea, dry mouth, inability to speak or think clearly, tightening of stomach muscles, and an overwhelming desire to escape from button-related situations.  All are likely to involve an anxiety attack to some extent and the recommended treatment is the staggered exposure therapy used for many phobias; the patient slowly learning to wear, use and live with buttons; antidepressants, tranquillisers & beta-blockers are now considered medications of last resort.

Buttons are hard to avoid.

What is sometimes treated as koumpounophobia can be a manifestation of a different phobia.  In the literature there are examples of buttons triggering anxiety when touched or viewed but the reaction was actually to texture, color or a resemblance to something (typically a face, mouth or teeth).  The button is thus incidental to the reaction in the same way that those with mysophobia (in popular use the germophobic) may react to buttons because of the association with uncleanliness.  One documented aspect of obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD) is that many sufferers immediately wash their hands after touching a button; the increased prevalence of this behaviour during the COVID-19 pandemic in relation to buttons touched by other (keyboards, elevators et al) is not thought indicative of a phobia but would be if it manifests as life-long behaviour.

Apple Magic Mouse, Multi-Touch Surface in white @ US$99.00 (left), Logitech Signature M650 L Full-size Wireless two-button Scroll Mouse with Silent Clicks in blue @ US$37.99 (centre) and Steve Jobs' vision of hell: Canon 5565B001 X Mark I Slim 3-in-1 wireless mouse with keypad calculator @ US$49.95. 

Steve Jobs (1955-2011; sometime co-founder, chairman & CEO of Apple) was said to have an aversion to buttons, something linked to his fondness for button-free turtleneck clothing but given he spent decades using keyboards without apparent ill-effect, it’s doubtful a clinician would diagnose koumpounophobia and it more likely he was just convinced of the technological advantages of going button-less.  Without buttons, manufacturing processes would be cheaper, water-proofing devices like iPhones would become (at least theoretically) possible and upgrades would no longer be constrained by static buttons, the user interface wholly virtualized on one flat panel.  It apparently started with the button-less Apple mouse, the industry legend being Mr Jobs saw a prototype (which the designers regarded as nothing more than speculative) and insisted it become Apple’s standard device.  Whether or not it happened that way, the story is illustrative of the way business was done at Apple and it’s notable his veto on offering a stylus with which to interact with apps or the operating system didn’t survive his death.  His response to the idea of a stylus was reportedly “yuk” and he seems to have decided all his users would think the same way and probably he was right, Apple’s users tending always to do what Apple tells them to do.  However, for those who find the sleek Apple mouse better to behold than use, third-party products with buttons and scroll wheels are available, sometimes for half the cost of the genuine article.

Shiny on the outside: Finished in Bianco Avus over black leather with Rosso Corsa (red) instruments, chassis 133023 (2003) is the only Ferrari Enzo the factory painted white.

The dreaded “Ferrari sticky buttons” is a well-known phenomenon, the stickiness coming from the rubberized material preferred by the factory because of the superior feel offered.  However, under about any climatic conditions, continuous use will produce a deterioration which resembles melting, a mushiness the final outcome.  The internet is awash with suggestions, the simplest of which involves products like rubbing alcohol (the use of which can cause its own destructiveness) and the consensus seems to be that in many cases only replacement buttons will produce a satisfactory result.  The choice is between obtaining the real Ferrari part-number (if available) with the knowledge the problem will re-occur or use third-part replacements which are made of a more durable material, the disadvantage being the feel won’t be quite the same and there’s a reluctance among some to use non-factory parts.

Ferrari 485 California F1 gearbox buttons, sticky (left) and not (right).

Ferrari does use the suspect material for a reason and it’s applied to interior components such as trim, bezels, buttons & switches, and heating, ventilation & air-conditioning panels.  The coatings are usually referred to as “soft-touch” and designers like them for the soft, velvet-like feel imparted.  Used also on computer mouses and electronic remote controls, the low gloss sheen is also helpful in cars because being absorptive, glare is reduced and Ferrari uses them with both a clear and black finish.  It’s an issue actually not exclusive to Ferraris although owners of those do seem most concerned and while using rubbing alcohol might sound a tempting Q&D (quick & dirty) fix, for those with sticky buttons this is probably a job best left to experts of which there are now a few.

Waterfall

Waterfall (pronounced waw-ter-fawl or wot-er-fawl)

(1) A steep fall or flow of water in a watercourse from a height, as over a precipice; a cascade of falling water where there is a vertical or almost vertical step in a river.

(2) A hair-style using long, loose “waves”.

(3) As “waterfall development”, “waterfall management” and “the waterfall model”, descriptions of product research & development (R&D) (especially in tech) including sequential stages, from conception and design through testing and implementation, hopefully to result in a final delivered product.

(4) Figuratively, any waterfall-like outpouring of liquid, smoke etc.

(5) In slang (originally US but now widespread), the action of drinking from a vessel without touching it with the lips (a sanitary precaution with shared vessels).

(5) In the smoking of weed, a particular design of bong.

Pre 1000: From the Middle English waterfal & waterfalle, from the Old English wæterġefeall (waterfall) and cognate with the Old Norse vatnfall, the West Frisian wetterfal (waterfall), the Dutch waterval (waterfall), the German Wasserfall (waterfall) and the Swedish vattenfall (waterfall).  The colloquial use to describe (1) a necktie, (2) a cravat, (3) a chignon (in hair-styling, a low bun or knot positioned at or close to the nape of the neck) or (4) a beard are now effectively extinct.  Waterfall’s synonyms in general use (though hydrologists are more precise) include cascade, cataract, sault (old Canadian slang more often used of river rapids) and the clipping falls.  Waterfall is a noun verb & adjective and waterfalling & waterfalled are verbs; the noun plural is waterfalls.

The construct was water + fall and the Modern English spelling appears to have been a re-formation from around the turn of the sixteenth century.  The noun “water” was from the Old English wæter (water), from the Proto-West Germanic watar, from the Proto-Germanic watōr (water), from the primitive Indo-European wódr̥ (water).  The verb “water” was from the Middle English wateren, from the Old English wæterian, from the Proto-Germanic watrōną & watrijaną, from the Proto-Germanic watōr (water), from the primitive Indo-European wódr̥ (water).  The noun “fall” was from the Middle English fal, fall & falle, from the Old English feall & ġefeall (a falling, fall) and the Old English fealle (trap, snare), from the Proto-Germanic fallą & fallaz (a fall, trap).  It was cognate with the Dutch val, the German Fall (fall) & Falle (trap, snare), the Danish fald, the Swedish fall and the Icelandic fall.  The verb “fall” was from the Middle English fallen, from the Old English feallan (to fall, fail, decay, die, attack), from the Proto-West Germanic fallan (to fall), from the Proto-Germanic fallaną (to fall).  It was cognate with the West Frisian falle (to fall), the Low German fallen (to fall), the Dutch vallen (to fall), the German fallen (to fall), the Danish falde (to fall), the Norwegian Bokmål falle (to fall), the Norwegian Nynorsk falla (to fall), the Icelandic falla (to fall), the Albanian fal (forgive, pray, salute, greet) and the Lithuanian pùlti (to attack, rush).

Two views of Niagara Falls:  Between June-November 1969 (left), a temporary dam was built to stem the usual flow so geological studies could be conducted to ascertain the condition of the rocks and assess the extent of erosion.  After rectification work was carried out, the temporary structure was dynamited, an event promoted as a tourist attraction.  In 1885 (right), the falls underwent one of its occasional freezes.  Usually, these are what hydrologists call "partial freezes" (of late there have been a few: 2014, 2017 & 2019), the only (almost) "total freeze" recorded in 1848 although that was induced by the accumulation of ice on Lake Erie which caused a "natural dam" to form, stopping the flow of water to the Niagara River.  It was this rather than a "total freeze" of the falls which caused the phenomenon.

Lindsay Lohan with waterfall, Guanacaste Gold Coast, Costa Rica, January 2016.

For most of us, we know a waterfall when we see one: it’s a point in a waterway (usually a river) where the water falls over a steep drop that is close to literally vertical.  However, among hydrologists, there’s no agreed definition about the margins such as when something ceases to rapids and becomes a waterfall, some insisting that what lay-people casually call “waterfalls” are really “cataracts” or “cascades”.  To most of us there to admire the view, it’s a tiresome technical squabble among specialists but among themselves they seem happy for the debate to continue and some have even suggested precise metrics which can be mapped onto any formation.

Wasserfall (Waterfall), the embryonic SAM

Wasserfall (project Waterfall) was an early SAM (surface to air missile) developed by the Nazi armaments industry.  Although never used, it was highly influential in the post-war years.  In his memoirs (Inside the Third Reich (1969)), Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) discussed both the weapons systems with which he as minister was usually in some way connected and the political in-fighting and inter-service rivalries which hampered their development.  Although his writings are not wholly reliable (there was much he choose not to say on his contribution to anti-Jewish measures and his knowledge of the holocaust), on industrial and technical matters historians regard his account as substantially accurate (if incomplete).  Interestingly, after reading in Spandau prison a smuggled copy of the memoir (Ten Years and Twenty Days (1958)) of Karl Dönitz (1891–1980; as Grand Admiral head of the German Navy 1943-1945, German head of state 1945) who had been a fellow prisoner for the first decade of Speer’s twenty-year sentence, without any sense of irony, he remarked in his (extensively edited) prison journal (Spandau: The Secret Diaries (1975)):

“Where he discusses military operations and the questions of armaments, the book is interesting and probably also reliable.  His political attitude, on the other hand, his relationship to Hitler, his childish faith in National Socialism – all that he either wraps in silence or spins a veil of sailor’s yarns.  This is the book of a man without insight.”

Speer re-invented himself by wrapping in veils of silence anything too unpleasant to admit and spun plenty of veils so appealing that for decades there were many who, for various reasons, draped them over his past.  He wasn’t a man without insight but compared with Dönitz, he had much more guilt to conceal and thus more need of selective silence & spin.

Speer regarded the regime’s failure to devote the necessary resources to the Wasserfall project as one of Adolf Hitler's (1889-1945; Führer (leader) and German head of government 1933-1945 & head of state 1934-1945)  many strategic blunders which, by 1943, had made defeat inevitable.  Having delayed development of the revolutionary Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter (deployed at scale mass it would have been a devastating weapon against the Allied bomber fleets then laying waste to German cities and industry), Hitler took the decision to afford the highest priority to the A4 (better known as the V2) rocket to retaliate against English cities; psychologically, Hitler always wanted to be on the offensive and would later appal the experts by demanding the Me 262 be re-designed as a fast, light bomber.  As a delivery system the V2 was a decade ahead of its time and there was then no defense against the thing but it was a hugely expensive and resource-intensive way to deliver an explosive load under a tonne.  As Speer noted, even if it became possible to produce and fire the projected 900 a month, that would mean a daily bomb-load of some 24 tonnes falling on England and that at a time when the Allied bomber groups were on average dropping some 3000 tonnes a day on German targets.  Hitler wasn’t wrong in predicting the use of the V2 against civilian targets would have an effect well beyond the measure of the tonnage delivered and the historians who claimed the disruption to the allied war effort caused by the V1 (an early cruise missile) & V2 was “negligible” were simply wrong but to have been an effective strategic weapon, at least hundreds of V2s a day would need to have found their targets.

Captured blueprints and photographs from the Wasserfall project's development. 

Speer admitted he “…not only went along with this decision on Hitler's part but also supported it. That was probably one of my most serious mistakes.  We would have done much better to focus our efforts on manufacturing a ground-to-air defensive rocket.  It had already been developed in 1942, under the code name Wasserfall (Waterfall), to such a point that mass production would soon have been possible, had we utilized the talents of those technicians and scientists busy with [the V2] under Wernher von Braun (1912–1977).”

He added that von Braun’s team was employed to develop weapons “…for the army, whereas air defense was a matter for the air force.  Given the conflict of interests and the fierce ambitions of the army and the air force, the army would never have allowed its rival to take over the installations it had built up…”  The difference in resource allocation was stark, more than ten times the number of technical staff working on the V2 compared to Waterfall and other anti-aircraft rocket projects (such as the small Taifun (Typhoon)).  The attraction of the anti-aircraft rockets was obvious as Speer noted: “Waterfall was capable of carrying approximately six hundred and sixty pounds of explosives along a directional beam up to an altitude of fifty thousand feet and hit enemy bombers with great accuracy.  It was not affected by day or night, by clouds, cold, or fog. Since we were later able to turn out nine hundred of the offensive big rockets monthly, we could surely have produced several thousand of these smaller and less expensive rockets per month. To this day I think that this rocket, in conjunction with the jet fighters, would have beaten back the Western Allies' air offensive against our industry from the spring of 1944 on.  Instead, gigantic effort and expense went into developing and manufacturing long-range rockets which proved to be, when they were at last ready for use in the autumn of 1944, an almost total failure [a comment which, combined with Allied propaganda and disinformation, influenced for decades many post-war historians].  Our most expensive project was also our most foolish one. Those rockets, which were our pride and for a time my favorite armaments project, proved to be nothing but a mistaken investment. On top of that, they were one of the reasons we lost the defensive war in the air.”

Whether a mass-produced Waterfall would have been an effective weapon against the mass-bomber formations has divided analysts.  While the technology to produce a reliable directional mechanism had been mastered, what Germany never possessed was a proximity fuse which would have enabled the explosive charge to be triggered when a bomber was within range; instead the devices relied on impact or pre-set detonators.  Presumably, had other projects been suspended and the resources re-directed to Waterfall, mass production may have been possible and even if only partially successful, to disrupt a bombing offensive it was necessary only to inflict an ongoing 5-10% loss rate to make the campaign unsustainable.  Given the inevitable counter-measures, even that would likely have proved challenging but economic reality meant Waterfall probably did offer a more attractive path than the spectacular V2 and given the success in related fields, it was not impossible that had priority been granted, proximity fuses and other technical improvements may rapidly have appeared.  As it was, Waterfall (like Typhoon, Me 262, V2 and an extraordinary range of other intriguing projects) was the subject of a post-war race between the Russians, the Americans and the British, all anxious to gather up the plans, prototypes, and personnel of what were clearly the next generation of weapons.  As a proof of concept exercise Waterfall was convincing and within years SAMs were a vital component of defensive systems in most militaries.

The waterfall motif: Grill on the 1975 Imperial LeBaron Crown Coupe (left) and the Liebian International Building in China (right).

In design, "waterfall" can be a motif such as used for the grill on the 1975 Imperial LeBaron Crown Coupe.  It can also be literal and architects have many times integrated water-flows as an external design element but at 108 metres (354 feet) high, the one on the façade of the Liebian International Building in south-west China is easily the world’s tallest.  An eye-catching sight, the waterfall isn't run all that often (which must disappoint influencers who turn up with cameras ready) because it’s said to cost some 900 yuan (US$125) per hour just to pump the water to the top and, with the downturn in the property market, the building's revenues have fallen short of expectation.  When completed and displayed in 2016, the waterfall attracted some criticism on environmental grounds, water shortages far from unknown in China although the builders (Ludi Industry Group) pointed out the signature feature uses storm-water runoff, rainwater and groundwater, all stored in vast underground tanks.  It may for a while be the last example of exuberance to show up among China's skyscrapers, Xi Jinping (b 1953; general secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and paramount leader of the People's Republic of China (PRC) since 2013) in 2014 calling for an end to what he called "weird architecture".  Mr Xi thinks buildings should be "suitable, economic, green and pleasing to the eye" rather than "oversized, xenocentric & weird".  Those skilled at reading between the CCP's lines decided the president had called the architects "formalists".  They would have taken note.

On TikTok, a small but active community of those who find waterfalls mesmerizing post video clips.