hassium

Photo of a long, metal tube with various electronic devices attached

The linear particle accelerator at the Gesellschaft für Schwerionenforschung in Darmstadt, Germany where hassium was discovered

6 October 2023

Hassium, element 108, was first synthesized in 1984 at the Gesellschaft für Schwerionenforschung (Institute for Heavy Ion Research) in Darmstadt, Germany. The discoverers proposed the name after Hassia, the modern Latin name for the state of Hesse in which Darmstadt is located. The name was proposed at a September 1992 meeting of the International Union of Pure and Applied Chemistry (IUPAC). From Chemical and Engineering News of 14 September 1992:

Names for the three heaviest known elements—atomic numbers 107, 108, and 109—were formally proposed last week during a ceremony held at the nuclear research facility in Darmstadt, Germany, where they were discovered between 1981 and 1984.

In the competitive and disputatious world of heavy-element discovery, these three elements are among the least controversial. But their naming has raised some eyebrows nonetheless.

Element 107 was named nielsbohrium (Ns), after Danish physicist Niels Bohr, who pioneered modern atomic theory. Element 108 was dubbed hassium (Hs), after Hassia, the Latin name for the German state of Hesse, where Darmstadt is located. And meitnerium (Mt) was the moniker given to element 109, after Austrian physicist Lise Meitner, one of the originators of the idea of nuclear fission.

The chemical symbol for hassium is Hs.

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Sources:

Dagani, Ron. “Naming Heavy Elements: 107 to 109 Attract Least Controversy.” Chemical and Engineering News, 70.37, 14 September 1992, 4–5 at 4. DOI: 10.1021/cen-v070n037.p004.

Miśkowiec, Pawel. “Name Game: The Naming History of the Chemical Elements—Part 3—Rivalry of Scientists in the Twentieth Century.” Foundations of Chemistry, 12 November 2022. DOI: 10.1007/s10698-022-09452-9.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, March 2012, s.v. hassium, n.

Photo credit: Alexander Blecher, 2015. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.

balling the jack

Black-and-white photo of a woman and man dancing on stage

Judy Garland and Gene Kelly performing a tame (and very white) version of Balling the Jack in the 1942 film For Me and My Gal

4 October 2023

The verb phrase to ball the jack has an uncertain origin. It is commonly said to have its origin is in railroad jargon, but any such claim has to be prefaced by perhaps or possibly. The evidence of the phrase’s early use, albeit far from dipositive, suggests that an origin in American Black slang referring to sexually suggestive dance movements is also possible.

The phrase has two primary meanings, which both date to the early twentieth century. The two senses are recorded within a few years of each other, and both undoubtedly had currency in oral discourse before being written down, so it’s impossible to tell which came first. The first sense is to move quickly, later extended to mean to work hard. The second, first seen in Black slang, is to dance or move one’s body in a sexually suggestive fashion.

The best guess as to the phrase’s origin is that it comes from railroad jargon that dates to at least 1905: highball (signal a locomotive to proceed) + jack (locomotive). But the first recorded uses of ball the jack in a railroad context come a few years after that phrase is already established, but not so long after that it could simply have gone unrecorded in print. And it’s possible that the two senses have two distinct origins, although ones that undoubtedly influenced one another.

The earliest uses of ball the jack that I have found come in a pair of articles in Florida’s Tampa Tribune in September 1911. Both articles put the phrase in the mouth of the same man and the context is of speed in loading cargo, specifically rock ore, onto ships. The first is from 24 September:

Meanwhile, Mr. Giles is repairing little odds and ends about the elevator, rearranging certain details and so on. When the fall season starts up Mr. Giles says he will “be ready to ball the jack” with phosphate tramps.

The second comes three days later on the 27th:

Heavy rains are seriously interfering with the loading of ships. Almost every boat in port is being thrown behind by the weather. The Spanish Steamship Madrileno, for instance, was slated to clear today, but the rain yesterday afternoon delayed it a day. Tomorrow, however, Seaboard Foreman Giles says “she will ball the jack.”

The dance sense first appears a little less than a year later in a song title. Early uses of this sense are primarily found in Black newspapers. The first is in the Indianapolis Freeman of 15 June 1912 in a description of an entertainment act:

The Original String Beans,

Known to us generally as May and May, was, as usual, a riot. Mr. May is becoming more of a legitimate comedian than he was in the days of yore. Mrs. May looks the same as when we last saw her—young and pretty. Their act is a singing and talking one, but good all the way through. They have several new songs, all of which are hits—“Ball the Jack Rage,” “All Night Long” and others.

There were several songs of the era that used ball the jack in their titles. Another is found in Georgia’s Savannah Tribune, another Black paper, of 23 August 1913:

Sept. 22nd, Monday, “Ball the Jack Short” by Pa Pa Hawkie and Little Ed at Masonic Temple. Admission 25 and 35 cents.

Perhaps the most famous tune of that title is the 1913 Ballin’ the Jack by Black musicians and vaudeville entertainers Jim Burris (lyrics) and Chris Smith (music). The chorus of that song goes:

First you put your two knees close up tight,
Then you sway ’em to the left,
Then you sway ’em to the right,
Step around the floor kind of nice and light,
Then you twis’ around and twis’ around with all your might,
Stretch your lovin’ arms straight out in space
Then you do the Eagle Rock style and grace
Swing your foot way ’round then bring it back,
Now that’s what I call “Ballin’ the Jack,”
“Ballin’ the Jack.”

And we see the phrase used in a description of a movie featuring an all-Black cast that appeared in the New York Age on 16 October 1913. The article is urging a boycott of the film’s production company for producing the film which is loaded with racist stereotypes. Exactly what ball the jack means here isn’t clear, but given the term’s usage elsewhere, it probably means some type of suggestive dance or movement:

The “all colored” picture, to which exceptions are taken bears the title of “Slim, the Cowpuncher.” Overlooking without comment such an inappropriate name for a picture supposed to deal with Negro life, [I] shall tell about the film, especially the second half of the reel, in which a number of colored persons are seen wandering aimlessly about. The subjects shown are of the lazy, indolent type of Negro, who proceed to “ball the jack,” drink gin, shoot dice and steal watermelons. Colored theatregoers who have had the misfortune to see this picture refer to it in disgust. The regard it as an insult to the race.

(The word which I interpret to be “I” is obscured in the digital scan of the paper. This may be a scan error, but it looks like the editors have scratched out a typo in the original, a single letter that is not “I.”)

And the first clear use of the phrase in prose to mean a sexually suggestive dance is in the Chicago Defender of 8 November 1913:

One evening this week the writer was taken to the fourth floor of a flat building on State street. This flat was kept by a woman known as “Mrs.,” but not married. Ordered a round of drinks. Several women in the flat “visiting.” Four bottles Edelweiss served with two whiskys. Paid 75 cents. Half hour later we made our departure. Was informed “not to forget the place” and “when you come again bring some more friends.” [Left] and went on second floor. This lady had a piano. Hilarity at its height; two women full doing a dance they called “balling the Jack” and other disrespectful capers. Bought a round for the crowd and left.

A pair of articles in the Indianapolis Freeman of 20 December 1913 decry entertainers who ball the jack and the producers and theater managers who permit it:

The actor who swears too much is a nuisance. Some theaters don’t allow it all. But when it comes to smutty slang managers should not allow it: actors should be watched and chided and the limit the law regarded. Stories that suggest ill repute are especially offensive. It is quite the same with suggestive dances. The shivering bodice, twitching of the shoulders, centralized emotion and balling the jack are all sufficient reason for the revoking of any manager’s license.

And the second of the pair:

The majority of managers of today allow the actors too much liberty: for instance, I have seen the so-called comedian undertake to tell what he considers a funny joke or story. He does not get a laugh. He does not attempt to tell another, but immediately commences to “Ball the Jack,” which I consider the most vulgar movements I have ever seen attempted  in public, but seemingly the managers of some of the houses stand for it and the public use their own discretion, but some managers don’t think they have a good show unless the audience makes a lot of noise and “Ball the Jack” is a noisy producer in some of the State street houses, but should Ball the Jack be accepted the same in the better houses as Salome, Texas Tommy and Tango, then I will be willing to offer an apology to all the Ball the Jackers.

And a few years later we see balling the jack making its way onto white dance floors. Puzzled by the meaning of the phrase, a reader wrote into Cincinnati’s Post, a white newspaper, of 7 August 1916 asking that question:

Dance Figure

Puzzled: What does the expression, “balling the Jack,” mean?—it refers to a figure in dancing, in which the feet are kept solid on the floor, close together, and the knees moved in a rotary movement.

As for the speed meaning, that picks up steam with World War I. At the end of the decade, we see a number of newspaper articles recording the use of ball the jack by doughboys. We see it used in the context of troops supposedly eager to go over there in the Miami Herald of 18 November 1917:

Every one here is getting impatient to “ball the jack,” for France, now that some of our “Sammies,” have lost their lives in the fight for democracy; and the 31st division or the “Dixie Flyer,” as we have nicknamed it, will undoubtedly make themselves felt when they reach the first line of trenches. They are a fine looking body of men, and the people of “Dixie” may well be proud of this division of fighting men.

There is this account of life in the trenches found in the Atlanta Journal of 29 September 1918:

Well, anyway, about 4 a.m. Sunday morning I was suddenly awakened by the noise of many guns and discovered, much to my consternation, that it was a barrage, either going over, from our guns, or coming over from Fritz’s cannon. I didn’t wait to find out, but, grabbing my shoes, balled the jack to the dugout, where nearly all the rest of the company had already arrived.

And this one from Kansas’s Emporia Gazette about post-war troops working in a sawmill in France and preparing to come home:

Yesterday the night and day crew tried to make a record run for the A.E.F. They made something of a 160,000-foot run (twenty hours), in a 20,000 capacity mill for ten hours. To see the boys “ball the jack,” believe me, the sawdust and lumber flew. They have an order for big timber, for bridges.

We see ball the jack used in reference to automobiles in this account of court testimony about a car accident in the 24 November 1920 edition of North Carolina’s Winston-Salem Journal:

Mr. Peddycord, another witness for the State, was called upon by the solicitor to estimate the speed Jeffreys was making, but the best he could guess was that "he was balling the jack." Whether or not this was a speed of ten miles per hour or sixty miles per hour could not be determined.

We’ve seen the speed sense of ball the jack used in the context of loading cargo ships, soldiers in wartime, lumber mills, and automobiles. The first known use of the phrase in the context of railroads appears in the midst of these in 1916. This is only five years after the phrase is first recorded, so the date doesn’t rule out an origin in railroad jargon, but it makes it less likely. This use comes in a 26 January 1916 notice from the Order of Railroad Telegraphers, a union:

I think that should well be explained before Congress that we have more on our hands at train time than at any other time of the day, even without the mail, but with the mail a man cannot do himself justice in trying to do all his other work and then have to lug a batch of mail half hour or longer, right when has to get to ball the jack on his other duties, but still everything has to be done, and right then.

There is this poem, presumably composed by schoolchildren that associates ball the jack with a railroad, but which could just refer to the lamb’s attempts to squirm free, resembling a suggestive dance. From Alexandria, Louisiana’s Weekly Town Talk of 2 September 1916:

The visitors were very much amused at a small “poem” that they found on one of the blackboards, and the writer will digress long enough to reproduce it:

“Mary had a little lamb,
She tied it on the track,
And every time the whistle blew
The lamb would ball the jack.”

There is this refers to a train moving at high speed in the Fort Worth Star-Telegram of 21 June 1920:

Knoxville Rotarians greeted the special at the depot. From there on the special “balled the jack” in an effort to make up time. Sunday morning found the special bowling the green field, along at the foothills of the famed Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia.

And this article from the Atlanta Journal of 3 January 1923 about a locomotive engineer retiring after fifty-four years of service that clearly establishes the term as part of railroad jargon but does not indicate how far back it goes:

He chartered a car and an engine, and the boss put me on it with orders to ball the jack, and we had a clear track and no stops to make, and we balled the jack.

What does all this tell us? The early citations of the ball the jack’s use don’t give a hint as to the underlying metaphor. An extension of the railroad term highball is certainly possible, but the existing evidence is insufficient to confirm it. We can’t even say for certain that the two senses, speed and sexually suggestive movement, have the same origin, but if one were to bet on it, one would probably say they do. Still, it’s a fascinating phrase, if only because the two senses highlight the racial division in American society as it existed in the opening decades of the twentieth century.

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Sources:

“Amusement Column.” Savannah Tribune (Georgia), 23 August 1913, 5/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Boosters Made Pleasant Trip.” Weekly Town Talk (Alexandria, Louisiana), 2 September 1916, 2/6. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Burris, Jim and Chris Smith. “Ballin’ the Jack.” New York: Jos. W. Stern, 1913. New York Public Library Digital Collections.

Byrne, W.G. “Texas Rotary Delegation Goes into Convention Unpledged.” Fort Worth Star-Telegram (Texas), 21 June 1920, 1/4. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Gossip of the Stage.” Freeman (Indianapolis), 15 June 1912, 5/2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, n.d., s.v. ball the jack, v.

“John M’Waters Daddy of All Engineers, Greeted by Officials and Cameramen as He Completes 54 Years at Throttle.” Atlanta Journal (Georgia), 3 January 1923, 8/1. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“In Camp and Field.” Emporia Gazette (Kansas), 4 January 1919, 1/4. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Lights and Shadows in Police Court.” Winston-Salem Journal (North Carolina), 24 November 1920, 10/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Little Bo Peep. “The Buffet Flats.” Chicago Defender, 8 November 1913, 4/7. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

“Mrs. Evans’ Answers.” Post (Cincinnati, Ohio), 7 August 1916, 7/4. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2008, s.v. ball, v.2.; September 2014, s.v. highball, v.

“Prospects Bright for Big October Movement.” Tampa Tribune (Florida), 24 September 1911, 7/5. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Russell, Sylvester. “Annual Stage Review.” Freeman (Indianapolis), 20 December 1913, 12/1–2.

St. John, Rex E. “Notes of Company M.” Miami Herald (Florida), 18 November 1917, 21/4. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Smith, W.H. “Actors and Managers of Today.” Freeman (Indianapolis), 20 December 1913, 14/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Taylor, Carl. “Letters from Our Boys Over There.” Atlanta Journal (Georgia), 29 September 1918, 9/2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“To All Members Who Are Required to Carry United States Mail” (26 January 1916). The Railroad Telegrapher, September 1918, 34.9, 1162. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Walton, Lester A. “A Time for Action.” New York Age, 16 October 1913, 6/1. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Waterfront Gossip.” Tampa Morning Tribune (Florida), 27 September 1911, 11/7. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Photo credit: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, For Me and My Gal, 1942. Fair use of a single, low-resolution still from the film to illustrate the topic under discussion.

the coldest winter ... San Francisco

Photo of San Francisco’s skyline with a layer of fog covering the city

San Francisco, seen from Twin Peaks, with the fog of the marine layer rolling in

2 October 2023

The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco.

—Mark Twain

Open up just about any guidebook or web site about San Francisco and you’ll find this quote. The trouble is, Twain never said it, or at least it doesn’t appear in any of his published works or extant letters and papers. The quote is sometimes attributed to other writers and other cities, but the clear favorite is Twain and San Francisco. (Twain is a “quote magnet,” with hundreds of quotations by others falsely attributed to him.)

But Twain did write about San Francisco’s climate, and his conclusions were completely at odds with this alleged quote. From his 1872 Roughing It:

The climate of San Francisco is mild and singularly equable. The thermometer stands at about seventy degrees the year round. It hardly changes at all. You sleep under one or two light blankets in Summer and Winter, and never use a mosquito bar. Nobody ever wears Summer clothing. You wear black broadcloth—if you have it—in August and January, just the same. It is no colder, and no warmer, in one month than the other. You do not use overcoats and you do not use fans. It is as pleasant a climate as could well be contrived, take it all around, and is doubtless the most unvarying in the whole world.

While San Francisco does get a bit chillier in than the surrounding counties, particularly when the marine layer of fog covers the city—visitors to the city are advised to pack a sweater no matter the month—it never gets really cold in summer or in winter. Twain was right; the climate of the Bay Area is delightful year-round.

Twain did, however, say something similar about Paris. In an 1880 letter he wrote:

For this long time I have been intending to congratulate you fervently upon your translation to——to——anywhere——for anywhere is better than Paris. Paris the cold, Paris the drizzly, Paris the rainy, Paris the Damnable. More than a hundred years ago somebody asked Quin, “Did you ever see such a winter in all your life before?” “Yes,” said he, “Last summer.” I judge he spent his summer in Paris.

But here, it is Twain who is paraphrasing someone else, in this case actor James Quin (1693–1766). Quin’s quip, which doesn’t refer to a specific location, was evidently in circulation in Twain’s day. We even see it in a 1789 letter by English politician Horace Walpole, son of Robert Walpole, who had served as prime minister:

But St. Swithin [i.e., 15 July] played the devil so, that we could not stir out of doors, and had fires to chase the watery spirits. Quin, being once asked if he had ever seen so bad a winter, replied, “Yes, just such an [sic] one last summer!”—and here is its youngest brother!

The current phrasing, naming a specific city, came into being at the turn of the twentieth century, only it was in relation to Duluth, Minnesota, not San Francisco or Paris. From Duluth’s News-Tribune of 17 June 1900:

One of these days somebody will tell that mouldy chestnut about the finest winter he ever saw being the summer he spent in Duluth, and one of these husky commercial travelers, who have been here and know all about our climate, will smite him with an uppercut and break his slanderous jaw. The truth will come out in time.

But even here, the use of mouldy chestnut indicates that by this date the attribution to Duluth was an unoriginal and tired one. And it was widespread. Here is one from Lexington, Kentucky’s Morning Herald of 17 June 1901 that tells of R. Q. Grant who worked for the state weather bureau:

Another assignment was to Duluth, Minn., where he learned to appreciate rapid changes in temperature. He says the coldest winter he ever experienced was the summer he spent in Duluth.

And San Francisco, Paris, and Duluth are not alone. The quip has been attributed to a number of cities over the years. The phrase is what linguists have dubbed a snowclone, that is a formulaic, cliché in which a familiar idiom is modified to fit new circumstances. A classic example is X is the new Y, where the two variables can be substituted, as in blue is the new black.

For a fuller history of this and other dubious quotations, see the Quote Investigator.

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Sources:

“Interesting Experiences. Morning Herald (Lexington, Kentucky), 17 June 1901, 6/2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

O’Toole, Garson. “The Coldest Winter I Ever Spent Was a Summer in San Francisco.” Quote Investigator (blog), 30 November 2011.

Sunday News-Tribune (Duluth, Minnesota), 17 June 1900, 12/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Twain, Mark (pseud. Samuel Clemens). Letter to Lucius Fairchild, 28 April 1880. Mark Twain Project.

———. Roughing It. Hartford, Connecticut: American Publishing, 1872, 410. HathiTrust Digital Library.

Walpole, Horace. Letter to Miss Berry, 31 July 1789. The Letters of Horace Walpole, vol. 6 of 6. London: Samuel Bentley, 1840, 333–34. Google Books.

Photo credit: Brocken Inaglory, 2006. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

hafnium / celtium

A multi-faceted, silvery chunk of metal

1 × 2 × 3 cm chunk of hafnium

29 September 2023

Hafnium is a lustrous, silvery metal found in many zirconium ores. It has atomic number 72 and the symbol Hf. Its primary use is in the control rods of nuclear reactors, but it is also used in the manufacture of microprocessors.

The existence of hafnium was predicted in 1871 by Mendeleev’s periodic table, but the element was not discovered until Dirk Coster and George de Hevesy of Copenhagen’s Universitets Institut for Teoretisk Fysik identified it in 1922. Its existence was announced by Niels Bohr, Coster and Hevesy’s supervisor in the lab, in his 11 December 1922 Nobel lecture:

In these circumstances Dr. Coster and Prof. Hevesy, who are both for the time working in Copenhagen, took up a short time ago the problem of testing a preparation of zircon-bearing minerals by X-ray spectroscopic analysis. These investigators have been able to establish the existence in the minerals investigated of appreciable quantities of an element with atomic number 72, the chemical properties of which show a great similarity to those of zirconium and a decided difference from those of the rare-earths.

But the name hafnium was not proposed until Coster and Hevesy did so a few weeks later in a 20 January 1923 letter in the journal Nature:

For the new element we propose the name Hafnium (Hafniae = Copenhagen).

Hafnia is a modern Latin name for Copenhagen, a combination of the Danish havn (harbor) + the Latin suffix -ium.

The search for Mendeleev’s predicted element #72 kicked off a rather fierce debate in chemical circles, with many scientists scrambling to be the first to identify it. In 1911, Georges Urbain claimed to have identified the missing element, which he named celtium:

During repeated fractionation of the nitrates in the isolation of lutecium from gadolinite earths, a few drops of a mother liquor were obtained that did not crystallise. This contained a new oxide belonging to the rare earths and characterised by a magnetic susceptibility three or four times less than that of lutecia. The name celtium is given to the corresponding element, and the symbol Ct assigned to it.

Urbain’s supposed discovery was eventually proven incorrect, but not after considerable debate and in-fighting. This particular debate over the discovery of an element was especially significant because it marked a shift in methodology. Urbain had used traditional chemical methods in his search for the element, while Coster and Hevesy had used the new technique of x-ray spectroscopy, and their discovery marked a shift in elemental research away from chemistry and toward physics. Hafnium turned out to be the second-to-last stable element to be discovered.

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Sources:

Bohr, Niels. “The Structure of the Atom” (Nobel lecture), 11 December 1922, 42. Nobelprize.org.

Coster, D. and G. Hevesy. “On the Missing Element of Atomic Number 72” (2 January 1923). Nature, 111, 20 January 1923, 79/2. DOI: 10.1038/111079a0.

Fernelius, W. Conard. “Hafnium.” Journal of Chemical Education, 59.3, 1 March 1982, 242. DOI: 10.1021/ed059p242.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, hafnium, n.; third edition, March 2022, celtium, n.

Scerri, Eric. A Tale of Seven Scientists and a New Philosophy of Science. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2016, 208–209. ProQuest Ebook Central.

Urbain, Georges. “A New Element Accompanying Lutecium and Scandium in Gadolinite Earths: Celtium.” Journal of the Chemical Society, 100.2, 1911, 115. Archive.org.

Photo credit: Chemical Elements: A Virtual Museum, 2009. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License.

geek

Photo of a woman in a knit cap and “Bad Wolf” (Dr. Who) t-shirt, holding a joystick and with an Apple computer on her lap. Next to her is a stereo that includes speakers, mixing board, Apple Mac minicomputer, and modular synthesizer.

27 September 2023

Geek is a general term of opprobrium that has, over the centuries, developed some specialized senses. And while it is generally negative, in some contexts it has been reclaimed as a proud marker of identity.

The word dates to the sixteenth century when it had the sense of a fool or simpleton. It was generally spelled geck, with variations being common. We see it Alexander Barclay’s 1530 Ecloges:

And he is a fole / a sot and a geke also
Whiche choseth a place / vnto the same to go
And where dyuers ways / lead thether dyrectly
He chosed the worst / and moost of Jeopardy

Shakespeare uses the word in two of his plays. In Twelfth Night, composed c.1601 and first published in the 1623 First Folio, the character of Malvolio, a servant, uses it in speaking to Olivia, his mistress:

Why haue you suffer’d me to be imprison’d,
Kept in a darke house, visited by the Priest,
And made the most notorious gecke and gull
That ere inuention plaid on? Tell me why?

And in Cymbelene, which was first staged no later than 1611 and again first published in the First Folio, the ghost of Sicilius Leonatus uses the word in speaking to Posthumus, his son:

Why did you suffer Iachimo, slight thing of Italy, To taint his nobler hart & brain, with needlesse ielousy, And to become the geeke and scorne o’th’others vilany?

This general sense of a worthless or despised individual persisted through the nineteenth century. And in the latter half of that century geek starts appearing in American slang. The Oxford English Dictionary treats the British geck and the American geek as distinct words, presumably because of the difference in pronunciation, with geek being a variant on the older word. Geck being pronounced /ɡɛk/, and geek being pronounced /ɡik/. In recent decades, the American pronunciation of geek has recrossed the Atlantic to colonize the mother country.

In the early twentieth century, the American term developed a specific meaning in the carnival or circus world, that of a performer who would eat live animals or do other repellant or painful things on stage—or more usually feign doing so. The earliest use of this specialized sense that I’m aware of is in an advertisement in the entertainment newspaper Billboard of 18 May 1918:

WANTED FOR THE GREAT WORTHAM CIRCUS SIDE SHOW

Strong Freak or Attraction for a single Pit or Platform Show, either on salary or per cent. No salary too high or no attraction too strong. Ten big fairs to get the money at. I want a real Geek, man or woman, for my Snake Show.

A 1931 American Speech glossary of circus and carnival slang gives a putative origin for this particular sense:

geek, n. A freak, usually a fake, who is one of the attractions in a pit-show. The word is reputed to have originated with a man named Wagner of Charleston, W. Va., whose hideous snake-eating act made him famous. Old timers still remember his ballyhoo, part of which ran:

“Come and see Esau
Sittin’ on a see-saw
Eatin’ ’em raw!”

Wagner’s act certainly helped popularize this sense of the word, but whether or not he was the origin is anyone’s guess.

Note, that geek’s general use to refer to someone deserving of opprobrium continued to be the more common sense of the word; the carnival sense did not replace it. And another specialized sense, more common than the carnival sense at the time but less well known today, is that of a weak man, especially one prone to various ailments or even hypochondria. Here is an example from a newspaper article on hemorrhoids that appeared in the Colorado Springs Gazette of 2 January 1920:

When the inflammation subsides, as it does in a few days, as a rule, the pile still remains, of course, altho [sic] many a poor geek at this time gives a testimonial to the effect that whatever treatment he used has “cured” his piles—and by the time his next attack comes the testimonial is embalmed in indelible printer’s ink.

This sub-sense of a weak and sickly man continued well into the 1950s, often in the phrase poor geek. And it is probably from this sub-sense that the sense of an overly bookish, non-athletically inclined student developed. Both the Oxford English Dictionary and Green’s Dictionary of Slang list the first use of this studious sense as being by writer Jack Kerouac in a 1 October 1957 letter to Allen Ginsberg:

Unbelievable number of events almost impossible to remember, including earlier big Viking Press hotel room with thousands of screaming interviewers and Road roll original 100 miles of ms. rolled out on carpet, bottles of Old Granddad, big articles in Sat. Review, in World Telly, everyfuckingwhere, everybody mad, Brooklyn College wanted me to lecture to eager students and big geek questions to answer.

But as one can see from the context, the meaning of Kerouac’s geek isn’t clear. Additionally, his use here would be a very early example. The use of geek to mean a studious student would not become common until the 1980s. Kerouac could have meant questions from studious Brooklyn College students, or he could have just meant that he had to answer a lot of foolish questions from all sorts of people.

Early use of the studious sense was often in the slang of Black youth, before it transferred over to university slang in general. For instance, we have this entry in a glossary of Black teen slang in Edith Folb’s 1980 Runnin’ Down Some Lines:

geek 1. Weird, unusual, or different person. 2. Studious person.

And with the advent of the personal computer in the early 1980s, the studious sense of geek became attached to the world of high-tech. A user posted the following to the Usenet group net.misc on 16 February 1983:

I eschew the use of “foo” “bar” and other dill-beak geek dull unimaginative temporary filenames!

And Eric Raymond’s 1991 New Hacker’s Dictionary included this entry:

computer geek, n. One who eats (computer) bugs for a living. One who fulfills all the dreariest negative stereotypes about hackers: an asocial, malodorous, pasty-faced monomaniac with all the personality of a cheese grater. Cannot be used by outsiders without implied insult to all hackers; compare black-on-black usage of ‘n[——]r’. A computer geek may be either a fundamentally clueless individual or a proto-hacker in larval stage. Also called turbo nerd, turbo geek.

Despite Raymond’s allusion to the carnival sense of geek, there is no reason to think that the tech (or any other) sense of geek derives from the carnival one. Rather the various specialized senses all developed independently from the general term of opprobrium.

As seen in these last two quotations, the tech sense started out as a negative one. But by the late 1990s geek would be reclaimed and used proudly by computer engineers, coders, and other technical specialists.

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Sources:

Advertisement. The Billboard, 18 May 1918, 29. ProQuest Magazine.

Barclay, Alexander. Ecloges. London: P. Treveris, 1530, sig. Ciii-v. Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Brady, William. “Health Talks.” Colorado Springs Gazette, 2 January 1920, 4/6. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Folb, Edith A. Runnin’ Down Some Lines: The Language and Culture of Black Teenagers. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard UP, 1980, 239. Archive.org.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2023, s.v. geek, n.1.

Kerouac, Jack. Selected Letters: 1957–1969. Ann Charters, ed. New York: Viking, 1999, 66.

Maurer, David W. “A Glossary of Circus and Carnival Slang.” American Speech, 6.5, June 1931, 327–337 at 331. JSTOR.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. geck, n.1.; third edition, March 2003, s.v. geek, n.

Raymond, Eric S. The New Hacker’s Dictionary. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1991, 102. Archive.org.

Shakespeare, William. Cymbelene. In Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. London: Isaac Jaggard and Edward Blount, 1623, 5.4, 393–93. Folger Shakespeare Library.

———. Twelfth Night. In Mr. William Shakespeares Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies. London: Isaac Jaggard and Edward Blount, 1623, 5.1, 275/1. Folger Shakespeare Library.

Photo credit: Charles Hutchins, 2007. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.