Toothache

Toothache (pronounced tooth-eyk)

(1) In dentistry, a pain in or about a tooth.  Technical names are dentalgia or odontalgia.

(2) In informal diplomatic code, a term whereby a diplomatic snub may be conveyed as an expression of temporary displeasure and (usually) without serious consequence.

1400s: From the pre 1050 Middle English tothache, from the Old English tōthæce, tōthece, toðece & tōþeċe, the construct being toð or tōþ (tooth) +‎ eċe (ache).  Tooth was from the Old English toð or tōþ (plural teð), from the Proto-Germanic tanthu- (the source also of the Old Saxon, Danish, Swedish and Dutch tand, the Old Norse tönn, the Old Frisian toth, the Old High German zand, the German Zahn and the Gothic tunþus) from the primitive Indo-European root hdónts & dent- (tooth).  The plural form (teeth) is an example of i-mutation.  Ache was from the Middle English aken (verb), and ache (noun), from Old English acan (verb) (from Proto-Germanic akaną (to be bad, be evil)) and æċe (noun) (from the Proto-Germanic akiz), both from the Proto-Indo-European heg- (sin, crime) and represented also in Sanskrit and Greek and probably onomatopoeic: imitative of groaning.  It was cognate with the Low German aken, achen & äken (to hurt, to ache), the North Frisian akelig & æklig (terrible, miserable, sharp, intense), the West Frisian aaklik (nasty, horrible, dismal, dreary) and the Dutch akelig (nasty, horrible).  Historically the verb was spelled ake, and the noun ache and the pronunciation likewise varied until the turn of the eighteenth century under the influence of lexicographer Samuel Johnson who mistakenly assumed it derived from the Ancient Greek ἄχος (ákhos) (pain) due to the similarity in form and meaning of the two words.  The Greek was actually a distant relation of awe and ake was a rare alternative spelling which lasted until the 1800s.

Although it seems strange, the documentary evidence suggests it wasn’t until the 1520s tooth came to be applied to the tooth-like parts of devices like saws, the phrase “tooth and nail” appearing in the next decade.  Curiously contested is the origin of the mythical tooth fairy, some sources claiming it was unknown before 1964 or even 1977 but it's mentioned in a US newspaper in 1908 and in a way that suggests no novelty of use.  Going back more than a thousand years, to Medieval Europe, the tradition of giving something of value to children in exchange for baby teeth (particularly the first which attracted a tand-fé (tooth-fee) and sometimes the sixth) is documented in Viking tradition.  Baby teeth seem to have been a concern in many cultures, some wanting them buried out of fear a witch would find them and gain power over the child, others insisting they should be burned otherwise, after death, children would spend eternity searching for them.  It's thus a long tradition but the linkage with a fairy does seem more recent, the most popular antecedent being a mouse who visited children in their sleep, replacing the baby tooth with a coin under their pillow.  In Spain and Latin America, adopted by Colgate for advertising, the rodent is called El Ratoncito Pérez or Ratón Pérez (Perez the Mouse) and the French equivalent was La Petite Souris (the little mouse).

Diplomatic toothache

The concept of the diplomatic snub predates formal diplomacy, known probably in the earliest human interactions, but as diplomatic toothache, it entered the vocabulary of international relations during a 1959 official visit to Moscow by UK Prime Minister Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963 (later the first Earl of Stockton, one of the few hereditary peerages created in the last few decades)).

Harold Macmillan and Nikita Khrushchev, on the tarmac at Moscow airport, February 1959.

Macmillan’s visit, the first to Russia by a British PM since Churchill’s wartime trips, started with him making what he hoped would be a friendly gesture by wearing a Russian white fur hat (ushanka) but this was soon swapped for a black one because a foreign office advisor suggested the white, dating from his last visit to Russia during the Russo-Finnish War might cause offence, the 1940 conflict not a happy memory in the Kremlin.  The foreign office were correct but (and this does happen with the FO) for the wrong reason, the white fur purely a fashion faux pas.  When Macmillan's predecessor (Anthony Eden, 1897–1977; UK prime-minister 1955-1957), visited Moscow in 1941 while foreign secretary, the Soviet foreign minister (Vyacheslav Molotov, 1890–1986; USSR foreign minister 1939-1949 & 1953-1956), showing an untypical concern for the details of protocol, told Eden "Á Moscou, Excellence, on ne porte pas la casquette de fourrure blanche" (In Moscow, Your Excellency, you don't wear a white fur hat).   

Twenty-odd years on however, the Russians seemed either not to notice or be unconcerned, the white fur attracting no comment on arrival and the prime-minister’s sartorial flourishes continued, choosing practical plus fours for his tour of collective farm, and, in a nice touch, a Guards Regiment tie when visiting a nuclear facility.  Lavish banquets followed around tables laden with champagne, vodka, caviar, salmon and Cuban cigars and all went well although, regarding the vodka, perhaps a little too well, as Macmillan would later note.

While the prime-minister was touring a Moscow research institute, the Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev (1894–1971; Soviet leader 1953-1964) was in Berlin where he delivered a truculent speech intending use Macmillan’s visit to destabilize NATO.  The next day’s Anglo-Soviet discussions were “angry and fraught”, an atmosphere not helped by both delegations being “rather drunk”.  To express his displeasure with a snub, Khrushchev the next day issued a statement saying he was taking no part in that day’s activities because he had “toothache” and the Western press promptly, and gleefully, coined the phrase “diplomatic toothache”.  Just to add emphasis, despite being indisposed by his “toothache”, the Kremlin made it known Khrushchev had spent the day in meetings with a visiting delegation from Iraq.  

Macmillan rescued the situation with some typically cynical British diplomacy and Khrushchev quickly resumed his role of genial host, telling everyone his toothache had been cured “…by a British drill” and although achievements had been modest, both sides considered the visit a success.

Clamshell

Clamshell (pronounced klam-shel)

(1) The shell of a clam.

(2) Any of a variety of object with two hinged parts and that opens and closes like a clamshell, as a laptop computer or a box with a cover joined on one side (clamshell phone; clamshell computer, clamshell packaging etc).

(3) In dredging and earth-moving machinery, a dredging bucket opening at the bottom, consisting of two similar pieces hinged together at the top (also called the clamshell bucket); a machine equipped with such a bucket.

(4) In printing, a platen press.

(5) Of, pertaining to or noting an object that opens and closes like a clamshell; the opening and closing actions of this object (ie anything resembling the bivalve shell of a clam).

(6) In anatomy, another name for eyelid (technical use only).

(7) In aviation, (1) an aircraft cockpit canopy hinged at the front and rear or (2) the hinged door of a cargo aircraft.

(8) In slang, the mouth (US archaic).

(9) In architecture, an amphitheater, especially an outdoor amphitheater; the semi-circular acoustic backdrop behind and above the performers (a use based (unusually) on the appearance of the shell in only its open state).

(10) In manufacturing, to deform a die in a shape resembling the shell of a clam, as a result of uneven extrusion pressure.

1490–1500: the construct was clam + shell.  Clam was from the Middle English clam (pincers, vice, clamp), from the Old English clamm (bond, fetter, grip, grasp), from the Proto-Germanic klamjaną (press, squeeze together).  Shell was from the Middle English schelle, from the Old English sċiell, from the Proto-West Germanic skallju, from the Proto-Germanic skaljō, from the primitive Indo-European skelh & kelh (to split, cleave).  It was related to the West Frisian skyl (peel, rind), the Dutch schil (peel, skin, rink), the Low German Schell (shell, scale), the Irish scelec (pebble), the Latin silex (pebble, flint) & siliqua (pod) and the Old Church Slavonic сколика (skolika) (shell).  Although sharing a source, the adjective clammy is otherwise unrelated, being from the Middle English clam (in the literally descriptive sense of “viscous, sticky, slimy”) & clammen (“to smear, bedaub”), from the Old English clǣman (to smear, bedaub) and related to the German klamm (clammy) & klemmen (to be stuck, stick).  Clamshell is a noun, the present participle is clamshelling and the past participle clamshelled; the noun plural is clamshells.

Lindsay Lohan with T-Mobile flip-phone Sidekick II, T-Mobile Sidekick II party, The Grove, Los Angeles, August 2004.

In (mostly archaic) US slang, a clam was one dollar (used usually in the plural) and it’s though the origin of this was an allusion to the wampum (a traditional shell bead of the Eastern Woodlands tribes of Native Americans.  It includes white shell beads hand-fashioned from the North Atlantic channeled whelk shell and white and purple beads made from the quahog or Western North Atlantic hard-shelled clam.).  Clams are of some note in the strange history of the Church of Scientology, a tax-exempt operation created by L Ron Hubbard (1911–1986) who constructed its ethos from an amalgam of his science fiction and fantasy stories, combined with pseudo-scientific explanations about the human condition.  His idea (a central tenet of Scientology) that human “thetans” (souls) previously inhabited clams he expanded upon in Scientology: A History of Man (1961) (first published as What to Audit (1952)), explaining that interactions between jellyfish and cave walls were responsible for the emergence of “a shell as in the clam” and that the clam itself suffered from a split personality when he described as a “double-hinge problem” in which “…one hinge wishes to stay open, the other tries to close, thus conflict occurs".  That does of course explain much about the problems of man and, more prosaically, because the clam’s hinges would become the Clam “hinges of the human jaw”, the Clam's method of issuing spores to reproduce is why we suffer toothache.  Who knew?

Trendsetter: The influential clamshell and some of its many imitators.

What engineers and designers liked once to call the “clam shell form factor” was shortened inevitability to “clamshell” but for portable computers and cellular (mobile) phones neither term caught on, laptop soon the ubiquitous choice and phone users preferred the punchier flip-phone.  Laptop endured as the generic description of all such devices and the distinction manufacturers applied to models technically classed as notebooks and netbooks escaped most, any clamshell computer since first they appeared in the early 1980s most often referred to as a laptop.  The flip-phone was a turn of the century fad and actually a good example of packaging efficiency, especially for those who carried their phones in handbags although men, most of whom had only pockets, were never as enthusiastic.  As it was the sleek iPhone and the smartphones which followed in its wake killed off most flips although there was the occasional retro-themed revival.  However, advances in materials had by 2020 made folding screens both durable and economical to produce in volume so these have become the latest variation to use the clam shell, offering all the packaging advantages of old with the benefit of being able to offer a flip screen in a thin form factor, thus appealing also to men, few of whom have been convinced by the utility of that other turn of the century fad: the man bag.

1983 Ferrari 512BBi.  All versions of the BB (1973-1984) used the clamshell design front & rear.

In automotive design, clamshells are used for both front and rear sections of the bodywork, some cars using both.  It was a popular idea on racing machinery like the Ford GT40 or the Porsche 917 because the method of construction used meant the panels carried little load, providing just coverage and aerodynamic optimization.  Some road cars also adopted the idea including Triumph’s Spitfire (and the GT6 derivative) and Jaguar’s E-Type (XK-E) and there were real advantages in accessibility for servicing and that’s probably why the bulky Jaguar V12 enjoyed a better reputation among mechanics when under the clamshell than it did in the tighter confines of the XJ or XJ-S.  Few mass-market vehicles used the idea and the Triumph Herald and Vitesse (which provided the platforms for the Spitfire & GT6) was one of the few but it was unusual in being built on a separate chassis after most of the industry had switched to unitary construction.

Rationale

Rationale (pronounced rash-uh-nal)

(1) The fundamental reason or reasons serving to account for something.

(2) A statement of reasons.

(3) A reasoned exposition of principles, especially one defining the fundamental reasons for a course of action or belief; a justification for action.

(4) A liturgical vestment worn by some Christian bishops of various denominations (now rare), the origin of which is the breastplate worn by Israelite high priests (a translation of λογεῖον (logeîon) or λόγιον (logion) (oracle) in the Septuagint version of Exodus 28)).  The French spelling (rational) of the Latin ratiōnāle was used in Biblical translations.

(5) In engineering, a design rationale is the explicit documentation of the reasons behind decisions made when designing a system; it was once used of what now would be described as a set of parameters.

1650-1660: From the Late Latin ratiōnāle (exposition of principles), nominative singular neuter of ratiōnālis (rational, of reason).  After some early inventiveness, the modern sense "fundamental reason, the rational basis or motive of anything" became standardised during the (1680s).  In the nature of such things, many rationales are constructed ex post facto.  Rationale is a noun; the noun plural is rationales or rationalia.

Prince Metternich & Dr Rudd: illustrating rationale & rational

Portrait of Prince Metternich (1822), miniature on card by Friedrich Lieder (1780-1859).

Rationale and rational are sometimes confused.  A rationale is a process variously of explanation, reason or justification of something that need not be at all rational (although many fashioned ex post facto are re-formulated thus).  To be rational, something must make sense and be capable of being understood by the orthodox, accepted methods of the time.  That something may subsequently be shown to be irrational does not mean it did not at some time appear rational; one can construct a rationale for even something irrational.  To construct a post-Napoleonic Europe, Prince Metternich (Prince Klemens of Metternich-Winneburg zu Beilstein (1773–1859); foreign minister of the Austrian Empire 1809-1848 & chancellor 1821-1848) built a rationale for the Congress of Vienna (1814-1815) that was well understood.  It was vision of a Europe, divided between the great powers, in which was maintained a perpetual balance of power which would ensure peace.  That in the two centuries since, the Congress has attached much criticism, largely for imposing a stultifying air of reaction on the continent, does not render the structure irrational nor detract from Metternich’s rationale.  Some historians have come to regard the congress more fondly and while it’s not true the consequence was a century of peace in Europe, it created a framework which meant a good number of decades in that time were notably less blood-soaked than what came before and certainly what followed.

Dr Rudd at the ceremony to be conferred DPhil, University of Oxford, September, 2022.

By 2009, Kevin Rudd ((b 1957); Prime Minister of Australia 2007-2010 & June-September 2013), having realised being prime-minister was a squandering of intellectual talent, embarked on a re-design of relationships in the Asia-Pacific, structured in a way to suit what was self-evidently obvious: he should assume regional leadership.  These things do happen when folk get carried away.  Not discouraged by the restrained enthusiasm for his good idea, Mr Rudd penned one of his wordy rationales which, to him, must have sounded rational but less impressed was just about everybody else in the region including his own cabinet and it’s difficult to recall any hint of interest from other countries.  Mr Rudd quibbled a bit, claiming his use of the word community was just diplomatic shorthand and he wasn’t suggesting anything like what the EU ever was or had become but just better way of discussing problems.  Anyway, it for a while gave him a chance to use phrases like “ongoing and continuing discussions” and “regional and sub-regional architecture” so there was that.  By 2010 the idea had been allowed quietly to die and he had more pressing problems.

Attaining the premiership was Rudd’s mistake.  Had he never achieved to position he’d probably be spoken of as “the best prime-minister Australia never had” but instead he’s among those (and of late there have been a few) remembered as the Roman historian Tacitus (circa 56–circa 120) in the first volume of his Histories (circa 100) wrote of Galba (3 BC–AD 69; Roman Emperor 68-69): "...omnium consensu capax imperii nisi imperasset" (everyone would have agreed he was qualified for governing if he had not held the office).  His background was as a senior public servant who provided advice to others so they could make decisions and he enjoyed a solid career which was clearly well-suited to his skills.  Unfortunately, when occupying the highest political office in the land, he proved indecisive and too often inclined to refer to committees matters which he should have insisted came to cabinet with the necessary documents.  His other character flaw was he seemed unable to understand there was a difference between “leadership” and “command”, unable to realise there was a difference between the structured hierarchy of the public service and the swirling clatter of politics.  His career in The Lodge (the prime-minister’s official residence in Canberra) can be recalled as the Italian historian and politician Francesco Guicciardini (1483–1540) noted of Pope Clement VII (1478–1534; pope 1523-1534): “…knowledgeable and effective as a  subordinate, he fell victim when in charged to timidity, perplexity and habitual irresolution.”  With that, the Italian writer Piero Vettori (1499–1585) concurred, writing: “From a great and renowned cardinal, he was transformed into a little and despised pope”, a sentiment familiar in the phrase repeated in militaries around the world (outstanding major; average colonel; lousy general) to describe that truism in organizational behaviour: “Everyone gets promoted to their own level of incompetence”.

That aphorism was from The Peter Principle (1970), written by Raymond Hull (1919–1985) and based on the research of Laurence Peter (1919–1990), the idea being someone who proves successful in one role will be promoted and if competent there, they will be promoted again.  However, should they fail, within the hierarchy, that is the point of their incompetence, the implication being that the tendency is, as time passes, more and more positions within a corporation will be filled by the incompetent.  The exceptions of course are (1) those competent souls who for whatever reason decline promotion and (2) the habitually successful who will in theory continue to be promoted until they reach the top and, if they prove competent there, this results in the paradox of the typical corporation being run by someone competent but staffed substantially by the incompetent.  In politics, reaching the top means becoming prime-minister, president or some similar office and as Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955) described it: "...if he trips he must be sustained. If he makes mistakes they must be covered. If he sleeps he must not wantonly be disturbed. If he is no good he must be poleaxed.  In one of the more amusing recent episodes in politics, the Australian Labor Party (ALP) decided Dr Rudd had been promoted to the relevant point and poleaxed him, a back-stabbing which remains one of the best organized and executed seen in years.  Subsequently, the party concluded his replacement was even more of a dud and restored Dr Rudd to the job, a second coming which lasted but a few months but that was long enough for him to revenge himself upon the hatchet men responsible for his downfall so there was that.       

Still, after his political career (which can be thought a success because he did did reach the top of the “greasy pole” and the delivered the ALP a handsome election victory although their gratitude was short-lived (a general tendency in democracies noted (sometimes gleefully) by many political scientists)) he has been busy, even if the secretary-generalship of the United Nations (UN) (an office which is an irresistible lure for a certain type) proved elusive.  Recently he became Dr Rudd, awarded Doctorate of Philosophy (DPhil) by the University of Oxford.  His 420 page thesis, written over four years, explores the world view of 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) and the relationship of his ideology to both the direction taken by the CCP and the links with the thoughts (and their consequences) of Chairman Mao (Mao Zedong 1893–1976; chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 1949-1976).

Dr Rudd says his thesis argues “…there has been a significant change in China’s ideological worldview under Xi Jinping compared with previous ideological orthodoxies under Deng Xiaoping, Jiang Zemin and Hu Jintao [and summarises] Xi’s worldview as a new form of ‘Marxist-Leninist Nationalism’”.  Dr Rudd says he preferred “Marxist Nationalism” because “the term contains within it three core propositions”: (1) “Xi’s Leninism has taken both the party and Chinese politics in general to the left” (and he defines “left” for these purposes as “…the reassertion of the power of the party over all public policy as well as elevating the position of the individual leader against the rest of collective leadership”), (2) “Xi’s notion of Marxism has similarly taken the centre of gravity of Chinese economic thought to the left” ("left" in this aspect defined as “…a new priority for party-state intervention in the economy, state-owned enterprises over the private sector and a new ideology of greater income equality”) and (3) “Xi has also taken Chinese nationalism to the right (“right” here meaning “a new assertion of Chinese national power as reflected in a new array of nationalist ‘banner terms’ that are now used in the party’s wider ideological discourse.”)  Dr Rudd views these three forces as “…part of a wider reification of the overall role of ideology under Xi Jinping. This has been seen in the fresh application of Marxist Leninist concepts of dialectical materialism, historical materialism, the primary stage of socialism, contradiction and struggle across the range of China’s current domestic and international challenges. The role of nationalism has also been enhanced within Xi’s new ideological framework. This hybrid form of Marxist Nationalist ideology is also being increasingly codified within the unfolding canon of Xi Jinping thought.” 

“Finally, the thesis argues there is a high degree of correlation between these ideological changes on the one hand and changes in the real world of Chinese politics, economic policy and a more assertive foreign policy on the other - including a different approach to Chinese multilateral policy as observed by diplomatic practitioners at the UN in New York.  The thesis concludes these changes in Xi Jinping’s ideological worldview and its impact on Chinese politics and public policy is best explained by a theoretical framework that integrates Authoritarian Resilience Theory, the realist and constructivist insights of the English School of International Relations Theory, and Foreign Policy Analysis.”  Clearly, Dr Rudd thinks the CCP has come a long way since comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) casually dismissed Maoist theory as “ideologically primitive”.

Since March 2023, Dr Rudd has served as Australian Ambassador to the United States, the announcement of the appointment attracting some speculation there may be a secret protocol to the contract, providing for him to report to the prime-minister rather than the foreign minister.  It was mischievous speculation and there has been little but praise for the solid work he has been doing in the Washington embassy.  Dr Rudd’s role attracted headlines in March 2022 when a interview with Donald Trump (b 1946; US president 2017-2021) was broadcast in which the former president was acquainted (apparently for the first time) with some uncomplimentary assessments Dr Rudd had made of him including describing him “the most destructive president in history” and “a traitor to the West”.

Having doubtless heard and ignored worse over the years, Mr Trump seemed little concerned but did respond in his usual style, observing he didn’t know much about Dr Rudd except he’d heard he was “a little bit nasty” and “not the brightest bulb”, adding “he’d not be there long” if hostile to a second Trump presidency.  Trumpologists analysing these thoughts suggested the mildness of the reaction indicated the matter was unlikely to be pursued were he to return to the Oval Office, noting his habit of tending to ignore or forget about anything except actual threats to his immediate self-interest.  After taking office in 2017, when asked if he would pursue the legal action he’d during the campaign threatened against Bill (b 1946; US president 1993-2001) & crooked Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013) (mostly on the basis of crooked Hillary’s crooked crookedness), he quickly brushed it off saying: “No, they’re good people” and moving on.  It’s thought Dr Rudd won't end up in the diplomatic deep-freeze, the most severe version of which is for a host nation to declare a diplomat "persona non grata" (the construct being the Latin persōna (person) + nōn (not) + grāta (from grātus (acceptable)), the consequence of which is an expulsion from the territory and the worst fate he may suffer is not receiving an invitation to a round of golf (something unlikely much to upset him).  Others however should be worried, in a second Trump White House, there will be vengeance.

Like "diplomatic toothache" and "null & void", the phrase "persona non gratia" has become part of general language, the utility being in few words describing what would otherwise take many more.  Impressionistically, it would seem "troubled starlets" are more than most declared "persona non gratia".