rain check

Photo of groundskeepers pulling a tarp over a baseball infield during a rain storm

Rain delay at a Chicago Cubs game, 18 August 2015

4 December 2023

A rain check is a promise, originally and often in the form of a written ticket, to provide at a later date goods and services that have been paid for. The first rain checks were issued at baseball games that were halted in mid-game because of rain. (The rules of baseball state that a game is not official until the visiting team has made 15 outs and the home team is either ahead or has also made 15 outs. Games stopped, for any reason, before that are not considered valid.)

The first record of rain checks being issued dates to 21 June 1883 when the St. Louis Brown Stockings (now the St. Louis Cardinals) made it a policy to issue rain checks to fans who paid for a game that was rained out. From the St. Louis Post-Dispatch of that date:

Christ. Von der Ahe, the president of the St. Louis base-ball club, was at down town headquarters this morning, and had a word to say about the action of the club on yesterday, in refusing to refund money or tickets at the gate after the game was called: “The clubs of the American association,” said President Von der Ahe, “have a rule which entitles the visiting team to its guarantee the moment the game is called. The moment the game is called, too, the salary of the umpire and all employes [sic] becomes due. This was the reason that all the clubs of the American have adopted the rule of refunding no money after the game is called. Several times this year games have been stopped after the first inning in the association cities without any money being refunded. At Philadelphia nearly 10,000 people in one game paid toll to see one inning played and made no demand for the return of the money, for the reason the notice was up, as at our park, ‘No money refunded after the game is called.’ At Louisville our club in one game played one inning and then rain spoiled the sport. We got our guarantee, but there was no demand at the gate for the return of money or tickets by those who had paid admission. Since yesterday, however, I have come to the conclusion that the rule is a poor one, and from this time forward it will not be enforced by the St. Louis club. While we will be compelled to pay the guarantee to the visiting club and all employes after the game is called, we will give rain-checks in every game where less than five innings are played. In other words, the St. Louis club will not make its patrons pay for what they don’t see, as is the case in all other association cities. The system to be inaugurated is to give everyone buying a ticket, on days where rain is apprehended, a rain-check which will admit them to the game on the following fair day. Where it looks fair, with no prospects of rain, no checks will be given; but should rain come up, rain-checks will be furnished to every one who has paid admission, on application at the box-office.”

The earliest use of rain check in a non-baseball context that I have found is from a few years later. The following appeared in Baton Rouge’s Daily Capitolian-Advocate of 13 July 1887. That paper credits the Detroit Free Press for penning the piece, but I have been unable to find it in that paper:

A reporter dropped into a prominent hotel to have his boots polished. The weather was decidedly threatening at the time, and as he left the chair, he said:

“It is almost certain to rain, and I shall lose my elegant ten cent shine.”

“Oh, we’ll fix that all right,” said the frescoer. “I’ll give you a rain check, and if you lose your shine come back this afternoon and I’ll give you another.”—Detroit Free Press.

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Sources:

Daily Capitolian-Advocate (Baton Rouge, Louisiana), 13 July 1887, 3/4. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Dickson, Paul. The Dickson Baseball Dictionary, third edition, 2009, s.v. rain check, 686–87.

“No Game, No Money.” St. Louis Post-Dispatch (St. Louis, Missouri), 21 June 1883, 8/3. Newspapers.com.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2008, s.v. rain check, n.

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

iron

Photo of molten metal being poured from a crucible

Iron being smelted

1 December 2023

Iron is a hard, magnetic, silvery-gray metal with atomic number 26 and the symbol Fe, which is from the Latin ferrum. Iron has, of course, been known since antiquity.

The word iron has cognates in the other West Germanic languages and in Gothic. Similar forms exist in the Celtic languages, such as the Irish and Scottish Gaelic iarann. The Celtic words may be cognate with the Germanic, but more likely the West Germanic words are prehistoric borrowings from the Celts. The North Germanic words, such as the Swedish järn and the Danish jern are probably borrowings from Early Irish.

In Old English, the word existed in three main forms. The oldest of these is isern, which became isen in the West Saxon dialect and iren in Mercian. We seen the older form in the copy of the Old English translation of Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People contained in Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Kk.3.18, fol. 8v:

Hit hafað eac þis land sealtseaþas; & hit hafaþ hat wæter, & hat baðo ælcere yldo & had ðurh todælede stowe gescræpe. Swylce hit is eac berende on wecga orum ares & isernes, leades & seolfres.

(This land, it also has salt springs; & it has hot water, & and hot baths in various places suitable for all ages & sexes. Moreover, it is also producing in quantity ores of copper & iron, lead & silver.)

Another manuscript containing this work, Cambridge, Corpus Christi College Library MS 41, uses the form irenes, from which the modern form iron descends. Both manuscripts were copied in the eleventh century.

In antiquity and in the Middle Ages, seven of the elemental metals were each associated with a god and with a planet, with iron associated with Ares/Mars. We see this association in a variety of alchemical writings, including Chaucer’s The Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale:

I wol yow telle, as was me taught also,
The foure spirites and the bodies sevene,
By ordre, as ofte I herde my lord hem nevene.

The firste spirit quyksilver called is,
The seconde orpyment, the thridde, ywis,
Sal armonyak, and the ferthe brymstoon.
The bodyes sevene eek, lo, hem heere anoon:
Sol gold is, and Luna silver we threpe,
Mars iren, Mercurie quyksilver we clepe,
Saturnus leed, and Juppiter is tyn,
And Venus coper, by my fader kyn!

(I will tell you, as it was taught also to me,
The four spirits and the seven metals,
In the order as I often heard my lord name them.

The first spirit is called quicksilver,
The second orpiment, the third, indeed,
Sal ammoniac, and the fourth brimstone.
The seven metals also, lo, hear them now:
The Sun is gold, and the Moon we assert silver,
Mars iron, Mercury we call quicksilver,
Saturn lead, and Jupiter is tin,
And Venus copper, by my father’s kin!)

Our understanding of iron as an element, in the present-day definition of that word, dates to the late eighteenth century.

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Sources:

Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, vol. 1 of 4. Thomas Miller, ed. Early English Text Society O.S. 95. London: Oxford UP, 1890, 1.1, 26. HathiTrust Digital Library.

Bede’s Ecclesiastical History of the English People, vol. 3 of 4. Thomas Miller, ed. Early English Text Society O.S. 110. London: Oxford UP, 1890, 12. HathiTrust Digital Library.

Cambridge, Cambridge University Library, MS Kk.3.18, fol. 8v, second half of eleventh century,

Chaucer, Geoffrey. “The Canon’s Yeoman’s Tale.” The Canterbury Tales. In Larry D. Benson, ed. The Riverside Chaucer, 8.819–29, 273. Also, with minor variation in wording, at Harvard’s Geoffrey Chaucer Website.

Dictionary of Old English: A to I, 2018, s.v. isen, isern, iren, n. and isen, isern, iren, adj.

“Genesis A.” In Daniel Anlezark, ed. Old Testament Narratives. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library 7. Cambridge: Harvard UP, 2011, 80, lines 1082–89

Miśkowiec, Pawel. “Name Game: The Naming History of the Chemical Elements—Part 1—From Antiquity till the End of 18th Century.” Foundations of Chemistry. 1 November 2022. DOI: 10.1007/s10698-022-09448-5.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, September 2013, s.v. iron, n.

Parker Library on the Web. Cambridge, Corpus Christi College, MS 041: Old English Bede, 30 of 504, p. 22. Stanford University Libraries.

Photo credit: P. Sakthy, 2003. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

war crime / war criminal

Black-and-white photograph of eight men sitting in the dock at trial. Behind them stand four US military policemen.

Nazi defendants in the dock at the Nuremburg Trials, 1946. Left to right, front row: Hermann Göring, Rudolf Hess, Joachim von Ribbentrop, and Wilhelm Keitel; second row: Karl Dönitz, Erich Raeder, Baldur von Schirach, and Fritz Sauckel.

30 November 2023

The ideas of a war crime, that is a violation of the generally accepted rules of warfare, and that of a war criminal, one who violates those rules, are modern concepts, only starting to coalesce at the end of the nineteenth century. Within the framework of international law, war crimes include, but are not limited to, the killing of prisoners of war, deliberate targeting of civilians, bombing civilian targets, the taking of hostages, and the use of chemical or biological weapons. In general, non-legal use, the terms can be more expansive, taking in horrific acts committed during wartime that may not fall within the legal definitions set forth in various treaties.

The term war crime first appears in a somewhat different definition, that of a violation of the a nation’s military rules and laws (what in the US military today constitute the Uniform Code of Military Justice). The term first appears in the context of an attempt by some in the US Congress to reduce the number of such offenses that were punishable by death. From the St. Louis Republic of 29 October 1892:

Suggestion is made by the report that the articles of war authorizing capital punishment might, to some extent, be modified even as to time of war, but that the death penalty should be reserved for the soldier in the time of war who deserts to or in the immediate presence of an enemy. Desertion, however, of a less degree should not be punishable with death as in a time of war. The entire abolition of the death penalty for war crimes, as proposed in a bill now pending in Congress, the report thinks impracticable.

We see the beginnings of the present-day definition in the case of Dr. Ricardo Ruiz, whose arrest and death were among the events that led to the Spanish-American War of 1898. Ruiz was a Cuban-born, naturalized US citizen and dentist who was arrested by Spanish authorities in Cuba on 4 February 1897 and charged with the derailment and robbery of a passenger train. He was held incommunicado and died in jail some two weeks later. There was evidence that had been tortured. From the Boston Herald of 8 June 1897:

Dr. Ruiz’s case is not even as strong as some of the other cases in [sic] behalf of American citizens in Cuba. He was charged with a crime not regarded as a war crime, but, nevertheless, it furnishes ample provocation for a vigorous demand for redress on behalf of widow, and also some apology for the violation of the treaty.

The phrase war crime appears in a newspaper sub-headline in the Wisconsin Weekly Advocate of 10 April 1902. Here the relevant case is that of crimes committed by British officers during the Boer War. The events of this case were dramatized in the 1980 film Breaker Morant. From the Wisconsin Weekly Advocate:

Alleges War Crime.

Liverpool, April 8.—A former trooper of the Bushveldt Carbineers, who has returned here, is quoted as saying that the convicted Australian officers belonging to that corps, since disbanded, murdered from thirty-five to forty persons. As an instance of their cold-bloodedness, the trooper relates how three Dutch children, 2 and 12 years of age, respectively, and their little sister, arrived at the Carabineers' camp to surrender, in order to be given food. The girl and one of the boys were wounded. The uninjured boy took his little brother on his back and was carrying him off when a second shot killed both boys. The girl died shortly afterward.

War crime and war criminal were first given formal legal definition in L.F.L. Oppenheim’s 1906 International Law: A Treatise. Oppenheim, considered to be “the father of modern international law,” was a German-born jurist residing in England:

§ 252. However, in spite of the uniform qualification of these acts as war crimes, four different kinds of war crimes must be distinguished on account of the essentially different character of the acts. Violations of recognised rules regarding warfare committed by members of the armed forces belong to the first kind; all hostilities in arms committed by individuals who are not members of the enemy armed forces constitute a second kind; espionage and war treason belong to the third; and all marauding acts belong to the fourth kind.

§ 253. Violations of rules regarding warfare are war crimes only when committed without an order of the belligerent Government concerned. If members of the armed forces commit violations by order of their Government, they are not war criminals and cannot be punished by the enemy; the latter can, however, resort to reprisals. In case members of forces commit violations ordered by their commanders, the members cannot be punished, for the commanders are alone responsible, and the latter may, therefore, be punished as war criminals on their capture by the enemy.

Since World War II, Oppenheim’s idea that a soldier is not a war criminal if they were simply following orders has been rejected. The defense that they were “just following orders” is not a valid one. And this rejection even predates Oppenheim’s treatise in that the Morant and the other officers of the Bushveldt Carbineers attempted to use it as a defense at their court martial and were unsuccessful.

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Sources:

“General Acquitted” (8 April 1902). Wisconsin Weekly Advocate (Milwaukee), 10 April 1902, 2/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Oppenheim, Lassa Francis Lawrence. International Law: A Treatise, vol. 2 of 2. London: Longmans Green, 1906, 2:264–65. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. war crime, n., war criminal, n.

“Spain Must Settle It” (8 June 1897). Boston Herald (Massachusetts), 9 June 1897, 1/3. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

“Suggestions as to Military Punishment.” St. Louis Republic (Missouri), 29 October 1892, 7/1. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Photo credit: Office of the U.S. Chief of Counsel for the Prosecution of Axis Criminality, 1946. US National Archives, Record Group 238: National Archives Collection of World War II War Crimes Records, Series: Photographs relating to Major Nuremberg Trials, NAID: 540128. Public domain image.

cinch / lead-pipe cinch

Photo of a horse jumping showing the belt running underneath its belly that holds the saddle in place

A cinch with a belly guard to protect the belly from the horse’s fore hooves during a jump

29 November 2023

A cinch is an Americanism meaning an easy task or, in the context of gambling, a sure thing. The formal etymology is quite straightforward, if not immediately obvious; the word is a borrowing from the Mexican Spanish cincha (strap, band). There is also the phrase lead-pipe cinch, which is an intensified version of the base word, but what lead pipes have to do with easy tasks or sure things is a mystery.

Cinch first appears in the 1860s as a very literal borrowing from the Spanish. The original English sense, one that is still current today, is the belt that runs underneath a horse’s belly and holds the saddle in place. The first use that I’m aware of is in the journal of naturalist John Keast Lord, who on 27 April 1860 had this to say about horsemanship in California:

The breaking-in is a very simple affair: while the animal is down the eyes are bandaged, and a powerful Spanish bit placed in the mouth. This accomplished, he is allowed to get up, and the saddle is firmly “synched.” The saddles commonly used in California differs [sic] very little from those used in Mexico.

Mark Twain, writing home to his mother from the island of Maui on 4 May 1866, used the present-day spelling:

I got the same leg hurt last week; I said I hadn’t got hold of spirited horse since I had been on the island, and one of the proprietors loaned me a big vicious colt; he was altogether too spirited; I went to tighten the cinch before mounting him, when he let out with his left leg (?) and kicked me across a ten-acre lot.

And in a speech given in San Francisco on 2 October 1866 about his stay in the Hawaiian Islands, Twain used cinch as verb meaning to tighten:

They are wild, free riders, and perfectly at home in the saddle—they call it a saddle, a little vile English spoon of thing with a girth that never is tight enough to touch the horse and sometimes without any girth at all. With their loose ideas, they never cinch a Californian’s horse tight enough to suit him.

But very quickly, cinch developed a slang sense meaning to cheat, to tightly control the outcome of some transaction. To be cinched was to be the victim of such a scam, to be squeezed like a horse’s belly by a cinch. From a description of San Francisco slang by Samuel Williams that appeared in Scribner’s Monthly in July 1875:

When stocks are active they are said to be “booming;” a panic in the market is expressed by the term “more mud;” a man who is hurt in a mining transaction is “cinched;” a weak man is said to have “no sand in him;” a lying excuse is denounced as “too thin.”

And such scams were called cinch games. From Carson City, Nevada’s Morning Appeal of 24 June 1877:

Of a wretched, mean trick-game nventedi [sic] for the purpose of the deliberate robbery of the unwary and gullable [sic], the Reno Journal of June 22 says:

Yesterday morning at 7 A.M., one-armed Saulsbury and Jim Walker enticed John Broullette, a French boy who had money, over to the V. & T. bridge, and by certain blandishments got him to bet $35 on a knife trick. They said he lost the bet and then pocketed the money, and walked to Huffaker’s—the boy following them, asking for his money every few steps. They got on the freight train and came back to Reno. The boy stepped into a buggy and got here about as soon as they did, and swore out a warrant and the officers arrested them, but the knife could not be found, they having made away with it. The trick is to bet that the greeny cannot open the blade before fifty is counted. A catch is slipped over the spring which makes opening an impossibility. The case will probably come up to-day, when the prisoners will have an opportunity to explain it. These “cinch” games are getting entirely too frequent, and all law-abiding citizens demand that the sharpers be severely punished.

Complicating the search for nineteenth-century uses of cinch is a very different use. Cinch was also the name of a trick-taking card game developed in the 1880s. The name of the game, which was invented in Colorado, is probably taken from the slang sense meaning to tightly secure the tricks. We see the card game named in the April 1886 issue of Overland Monthly:

The town on a Sunday evening presents a marked contrast—saloons crowded; music, dancing and gambling; faro, licensed by the territory of Arizona, in full blast; Mexican games with Mexican cards; and the all-absorbing poker—poker in all its various forms and attractions, from the small calibre of a freezeout game to that in which each chip stands for a gold piece, and rises with a geometrical ratio after the ante; reckless playing, and drunken playing, with an occasional cinch game; miners, professionals, laborers, business men, all in the throng, and representatives of each in the play.

We can see that the slang sense of cinch developed along a logical, if not immediately obvious path from the literal use to mean a belt and then to tighten or secure and on to mean a sure or easily accomplished thing.

But where does lead-pipe cinch come from? That one is anybody’s guess, and the written record, as we currently know it, offers few clues.

The earliest use of lead-pipe cinch that I’m aware of is from Camden, New Jersey’s Evening Telegram of 5 November 1887. It, like most of the earliest uses of the phrase, is in the context of horseracing:

Jimmy McLaughlin has a sure thing, and “air tight” and a “lead pipe” cinch on the premier jockeyship now. It was the hardest fight he ever had, and was literally a victory snatched from the jaws of defeat.

Another early use is an article in the Boston Globe with the dateline 28 July 1888:

Jockey Freeman came in for a great ovation every time he returned to the stand after a race. He won two races and finished second in another. The hardest hit the talent received was over the Alabama stakes. They considered Lucky Baldwin’s great filly Los Angeles a “lead pipe cinch,” and put their money on at any odds. Thanks to Jimmy McLaughlin’s riding the stakes went to the Dwyer brothers’ treasury by Bella B.’s victory.

And by the end of that decade, lead-pipe cinch was being used outside the context of horseracing. From an advertisement for a comedy show that appeared in Chicago’s Daily Inter Ocean of 11 November 1889:

CHICAGO OPERA HOUSE—Fireproof.
David Henderson……………….manager

CHICAGO ALSO SAYS “IT IS A LEAD PIPE CINCH.”

RUSSELL’S COMEDIANS
in the
CITY DIRECTORY

A Veritable Surprise in Farce Comedy.
3 Hours of the Most Hilarious Fun with the Greatest Company of Farce Comedians Ever Organized.

Every Evening, Wednesday and Saturday Matinees.

COME * EARLY * AND * GET * SEATS.

And the New-York Tribune of 16 December 1889 uses the phrase in the context of political corruption:

Statements are made showing that Senators were bought for $1,000 each and the Representatives averaged about $500. The money was transferred in a unique manner. The briber and the bribed would sit down to a game of poker. A “lead pipe cinch” was nothing compared to the sure thing that the legislator had in the game.

On their face, these early uses offer little in the way of evidence for how lead pipes became associated with cinches. But that very first citation offers a clue to one possible explanation in its use of air tight. An air-tight cinch makes sense, particular in the context of a horse’s tack. One not only wants the belt to be tight, so there is no air gap between it and the horse, but one also wants to tighten the cinch immediately after the horse has exhaled. Otherwise, the cinch will become loose as the horse breathes. The phrase air-tight cinch, both literal and metaphorical, is common in the closing decades of the nineteenth century. Lead-pipe cinch may have developed as a mishearing, either accidental or intentional and jocular, of air-tight cinch.

For instance, we see this piece written by Lewis Anderson in 1891 for the New York Advertiser and reprinted in newspapers across the country that makes use of a number of such non-sensical types of cinches:

The tout regained consciousness and muttered: “The track will be heavy to-morrow, and I’ve got a copper-riveted, lead-pipe, copyrighted, air-tight cinch. Firenzi in the mud—she swims in it—she can make the pace so hot that the track will be dry before she does the first quarter.

This explanation is far from a certainty. It is speculation with only the faintest bit of evidence behind it. But it is better than other explanations that have been proffered over the years. These include using a lead pipe to twist and tighten the cinch around a horse, or even to knock the wind out of the horse before tightening the cinch (one might want to force the horse to exhale before cinching the saddle, but one would not use a lead pipe, an object unlikely to be found in a stable,  to do it, not one wants the horse in good riding condition). Another has to do with plumbers tightening pipes. All the other explanations I have heard lack evidence or are absurd on their face.

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Sources:

Advertisement. Daily Inter Ocean (Chicago), 11 November 1889, 8/7. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Anderson, Louis. “I’m After the Starter.” Commercial Gazette (Cincinnati, Ohio), 3 October 1891, 12/7. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, n.d., s.v. cinch, n.1, lead, n., cinch, v.

“His Last Race” (28 July 1888). Boston Globe, 29 July 1888, 6/1. Newspapers.com.

“Legislators Bribed in Missouri.” New-York Tribune, 16 December 1889, 3/5. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Lord, John Keast. Journal entry, 27 April 1860. The Naturalist in Vancouver Island and British Columbia, vol. 1 of 2. London: Richard Bentley, 1866, 234. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Morning Appeal (Carson City, Nevada), 23 June 1877, 3/2. Library of Congress: Chronicling America.

“On the Trail of Geronimo.” Overland Monthly, 7.40, April 1886, 349/2. ProQuest Magazines.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. cinch, n., cinch, v., lead-pipe, n.

“Sporting Brevities.” Evening Telegram (Camden, New Jersey), 5 November 1887, 1/3. Library of Congress: Chronicling America.

Twain, Mark. Letter, 4 May 1966. Mark Twain’s Letters, vol. 1 of 2, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1917, 105. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

———. “The Sandwich Islands” (2 October 1866). Mark Twain’s Speeches, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1923, 13. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Williams, Samuel. “The City of the Golden Gate.” Scribner’s Monthly, July 1875, 266–85 at 277/1. Gale Primary Sources: American Historical Periodicals.

Image credit: Ger1axg. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

free lunch (no such thing as) / TANSTAAFL

Black-and-white lithograph of three mice eating a large, round cheese that has been left out on a table next to a glass and a bottle of wine

“A Free Lunch,” Currier & Ives, 1872

27 November 2023

At least two different legions of fans misassign credit for the coinage of the phrase there ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. The first are science fiction aficionados who falsely credit Robert Heinlein for coining the phrase and its acronymic child, TANSTAAFL. The second are devotees of economist Milton Friedman, who published a 1975 collection of essays using the phrase as its title. Neither Heinlein nor Friedman originated the catchphrase or its acronym, although both undoubtedly helped popularize them.

Instead, the phrase arose out of debates between capitalists and socialists in America at the turn of the twentieth century.

The literal free lunch is the practice of saloons offering free food to attract customers. The marketing ploy took hold and became ubiquitous in the United States in the mid nineteenth century. The earliest reference I have found to an establishment offering a “free lunch” appears in an ad in the Illinois State Register on 3 February 1840 (and on the same page is a summary of a speech by Abraham Lincoln given in the Illinois House of Representatives, a fact that is irrelevant to the history of the phrase, but is an example of the tidbits one turns up when doing research of this nature):

N. B.—Free Lunch set every day, at 11 o’clock, A. M, Hot Coffee at all hours.

By the century’s end, free lunch had entered the realms of politics and economics, becoming equated with socialism and the labor movement. There is this piece on labor negotiations between the New York Tribune and Typographical Union Local #6 that appeared in the Yonkers Herald on 26 July 1892. It uses free lunch ranter to describe a pro-union politician:

The action of a political party, which action is inseparable from this discussion, clearly shows that somebody has been trying to make fools of organized workingmen. Chauncy M. Depew, president of that corporation which is so friendly (?) to labor organizations, and a leader in Mr. Reid’s party, says: “Mr. Reid is the labor candidate. His nomination was practically made by the Typographical union.” This is only the mouthing of a free lunch ranter and clearly misrepresents the attitude of No. 6; but the union put itself in a position to be made the byword and boast of political shysters and capitalistic clowns.

Later than year, we start see precursors to the catchphrase appearing. There is this one that questions whether there is such as thing as a free lunch. But here the meaning is quite literal, referring to the presence or absence of the saloonkeepers’ practice, and not questioning whether or not the food is truly provided at no cost. Originally printed in the San Francisco Examiner on 25 September 1897, the piece was reprinted widely across the United States in the following weeks:

With bread selling at three loaves for a dollar at Dawson City, the question whether there is such a thing as a free-lunch route up there becomes one of almost international importance.

Months later we see the exact phrasing there is no such thing as a free lunch in Illinois’s Rockford Daily Register-Gazette of 24 December 1897. Here the phrase is occupying a middle ground between the literal sense of gratis bar food and the metaphorical economic sense. Mr. Pricket is literally referring to the food coming at no cost to the customer, but he is couching the literal observation in the context of a larger economic argument:

Edward L. Pricket of Edwardsville, Ills., late United States consul to Kehl, Germany, was here recently on his way home. He spoke freely and in an interesting manner of his experiences abroad. He said: “There is no such thing as a free lunch in all Europe. In fact nothing is free there. Even in Germany you have pay for your pretzels, and they do not even give a match gratuitously. I went to Europe a free trader. I return a protectionist.”

And there is this use of the phrase in the Washington Herald of 2 November 1909, which is entirely figurative:

Mr. Tillman’s idea that free lunch is good enough for anybody—or even Presidents—may appear sound to some people, but, as a matter of fact, there is no such thing as a free lunch. Somebody has to pay for it.

The phrase, with is no replaced by ain’t no, is used as the punchline of an economist’s joke in Texas’s El Paso Herald Post of 27 June 1938. The piece was originally anonymous, but the writer was later identified as columnist Walter Morrow. The joke tells of a king who asks his economic advisors to summarize the wisdom of their field for him. Economist after economist fails at the task, unable to do so without using volumes of texts and charts. The king has them summarily executed, one after another. Finally, only one economist is left, who says:

“Your majesty, I have reduced this subject of economics to a single sentence, so brief and so easily remembered that it was not necessary to put it on paper. Yet will I wager my head that you will find my text a true one, and not to be disputed.”

“Speak on,” cried the king, and the palace guards leveled their crossbows. But the old economist rose fearlessly to his feet, stood face to face with the king, and said:

“Sire, in eight words I will reveal to you all the wisdom that I have distilled through all these years from all the writings of all the economists who once practiced their science in you kingdom. Here is my text:

“There ain’t no such thing as free lunch.”

Morrow may or may not have originated the joke, but he was the first to put it in print.

The phrase also appears in a book review published in the Columbia Law Review of September 1945. By this date the catchphrase has clearly become a buzzword of the political right:

Dr. Skilton apparently expects and welcomes more intrusion of government both to regulate mortgage loans and provide money for them. […] One can obviate that by government loans at arbitrarily lows rates, but this simply means the taxpayers are asked to subsidize one group in the population. Dr. Skilton might recall this profound economic truth, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.” Government has nothing to give anybody. What it gives to one man it must take from another.

Economic satire is also the origin of the phrase’s acronym, TANSTAAFL. The acronym first appears, as far as I can tell, in a 35-page, 1949 satirical, anti-Communist pamphlet titled TANSTAAFL: A Plan for A New Economic World Order, written by a Pierre Dos Utt and published by Cairo Publications of Canton, Ohio. Both the writer and publisher are fictional entities. The pamphlet using obfuscatory equations and charts as “evidence,” proposes what it says is the optimal world political and economic order, an order that in many ways resembles the Soviet Union under Stalin or Orwell’s Big Brother. The pamphlet concludes with a version of Morrow’s economics joke:

The name “TANSTAAFL” is derived from the ancient language of the Babylonians It is the subject of an old Sumerian fable. The story runs something like this:

In the days of Nebuchadrezzar a great depression settled over the valley of the Euphrates very much like the one our country experienced back in 1932.

[…]

Quaking with fear the little bald-headed man fell face down upon the floor, and sobbed:

“Most venerable King, Protector of all Babylonia, Wisest of all men—I have but one piece of advice to give. In my humble opinion,

There Ain’t No Such Thing As A Free Lunch”

Science fiction writer Robert Heinlein doesn’t enter into the history of the phrase until some seventeen years later, with the serialized publication of his novel The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress in the magazine Worlds of IF in February 1966. The novel depicts a libertarian political revolution in a lunar colony. Heinlein, an ardent libertarian, undoubtedly had encountered the phrase and its acronym elsewhere and incorporated them into his book:

“Gospodin,” he said presently, “you used an odd word earlier—odd to me, I mean.”

“Call me ‘Mannie’ now that kids are gone. What word?”

“It was when you insisted that the, uh, young lady, Tish—that Tish must pay too. ‘Tone-stapple,’ or something like it.”

“Oh, ‘tanstaafl.’ Means ‘There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.’ And isn’t,” I added, pointing to a FREE LUNCH sign across room, “or these drinks would cost half as much.”

Friedman enters the picture a decade later with his book of that title.

So that’s how a marketing ploy by nineteenth century saloonkeepers became an anti-socialist catchphrase.

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Sources:

Dos Utt, Pierre. TANSTAAFL: A Plan for a New Economic World Order. Canton, Ohio: Cairo Publications, 1949.

Felts, David V. “Second Thoughts.” Decatur Herald (Illinois), 23 September 1949, 6/3. Newspapers.com.

Hanna John. “Government and the Mortgage Debtor (1929 to 1939) by Robert H. Skilton” (review). Columbia Law Review, 45.5, September 1945, 803–05 at 805. JSTOR.

Heinlein, Robert A. “The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.” Worlds of IF, February 1966, 108–09. Archive.org.

“Little Too Radical.” Rockford Daily Register-Gazette (Illinois), 24 December 1897, 11/2. Readex: America’s Historical Newspapers.

Morrow, Walter. “Economics in Eight Words.” El Paso Herald Post (Texas), 27 June 1938, 4/1. Newspaper Archive.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2008, s.v. free lunch, n.

San Francisco Examiner, 25 September 1897, 6/2. Newspapers.com.

Shapiro, Fred R. The New Yale Book of Quotations. New Haven: Yale UP, 2021, 176, 368, 576.

“Springfield Exchange Coffee-House,” Illinois State Register (Springfield), 3 February 1840, 3/1. Newspapers.com.

“The Trib and Big Six.” Yonkers Herald (New York), 26 July 1892, 3/3–4. Newspapers.com.

Washington Herald (Washington, DC), 2 November 1909, 6. Library of Congress: Chronicling America.

Image credit: Currier & Ives, 1872. Library of Congress. Public domain image.