virus / viral

Black-and-white photo of fuzzy ovals

Influenza viruses under an electron microscope

14 March 2025

[15 March edit: corrected Proto-Indo-European roots]

Virus is a word that has evolved alongside the evolution in medical knowledge; before the twentieth century a virus was something quite different from the microorganisms we assign the name to today, and even more recently the word has broken the bounds of biology and infected the realm of silicon and circuits.

Virus is from Latin, where the word means poison, venom, or a bodily discharge such as pus or semen. In classical Latin it only referred to animal semen but was extended to human semen in medieval Latin. Because of this last meaning, it’s tempting to associate the word with vir, meaning man and the source of the English word virile, but it appears as if the root of virus is quite different, and there are apparently no Latin uses of virus to refer to human semen. The Latin vir comes from the Proto Indo-European root *uiH-ró-, associated with masculinity and warriors and giving rise to other words such as violence and virtue, while virus comes from the PIE root *ueis-, associated with poison.)

The word makes its English debut toward the end of the fourteenth century. It appears in John Trevisa’s translation of Bartholomæus Anglicus’s De proprietatibus rerum (On the Properites of Things) where, citing Isidore of Seville's Etymologiae, it associates virus, in the human semen sense, with the Latin vir, man:

Among the genitals on hatte þe pyntyl, veretrum in latyn, for it is a man his owne membre oþir for it is shamefast membre oþir for virus come ouȝt þerof. For propirliche to speke, þe humour þat comeþ out of mankynde hatte virus. So seiþ Isidre.

(Among the genitals, the penis is called veretrum in Latin, for it a man’s own member, first because it is a shameful member, second because virus comes out of it. To speak correctly, the humor that comes out of mankind is called virus. So says Isidore.)

Around the same time, virus appears in the sense of pus or discharge from a wound in a translation of Lanfranc of Milan’s treatise on surgery:

If þe vlcus be virulent, þat is to seie venemi [. . .] If þe virus be wiþoute heete & þe membre haue noon heete, waische it wiþ watir.

(If the ulcer is virulent, that is to say with venom [. . .] If the virus is without heat and the limb has no heat, wash it with water.)

A couple of centuries later the Latin sense of virus as poison entered English usage. This use appears in a figurative sense in the 1599 publication of Master Broughton’s Letters:

In an epistle to the Lord Treasurer, you will put his Graces fame in print: in your letters to D. Stoll. you will set his Graces fame past cure: in priuate letters to himselfe, belching out vnsauourie menaces of that, which here you haue disgorged. Wherein you haue spent all the vires and power you haue for the defence of a vaine paradox, and spit out all the virus and poyson you could conceiue, in the abuse of his reuerend person.

And the virus-as-poison sense can still be found in current usage, as this 1988 citation from the Chronicle-Telegram of Elyria, Ohio shows:

Farmers cut the legs off woolen stockings to wear on wrists and forearms, for the virus of a snake bite would be absorbed by the woolen yarn, minimizing the danger of infection.

The modern biological sense of virus as a microscopic pathogen appears in 1900. From the Journal of Comparative Pathology and Therapeutics of that year:

Thanks to the researches of Löffler, we also know that the virus of foot-and-mouth disease passes through a Berkefeld filter when it is suspended in a watery liquid, but it is arrested by such a filter from an albuminous liquid, and, presumably on account of its small size, it has not yet been made visible to the human eye.

As this citation shows, viruses were originally distinguished from bacteria and other microorganisms by their size. Filters could trap bacteria, but viruses were small enough to pass through them. As a result, many very small microorganisms were originally classified as viruses, although we wouldn’t do so today. Today, a virus is a DNA or RNA molecule surrounded by a protein coat that can only exhibit biological functions inside a host cell. Alexander Nelson’s 1946 Principles of Agricultural Botany exhibits this modern understanding of what a virus is:

Some viruses have been isolated from the host, and all have proved to be some form of nucleic acid; they are of the nature of nucleo-proteins.

And even more recently, a new type of virus has been envisioned, the computer virus, appearing first in fictional accounts of future technologies. Science fiction often invents technologies that only later become a reality. Jules Verne anticipated the submarine and scuba gear in his 1869 Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, and H. G. Wells wrote about atomic bombs in 1914. Computer viruses are another technology that first appears in fiction. The first known reference to a computer virus is in David Gerrold’s novel 1972 novel When Harlie Was One. Gerrold specifically modeled the concept on pathogenic biological viruses:

“Do you remember the VIRUS program?”

“Vaguely. Wasn’t it some kind of computer disease or malfunction?”

“Disease is closer. There was a science-fiction writer once who wrote a story about it—but the thing had been around a long time before that. It was a program that—well, you know what a virus is, don’t you? It’s pure DNA, a piece of renegade genetic information. It infects a normal cell and forces it to produce more viruses—viral DNA chains—instead of its normal protein. Well, the VIRUS program does the same thing.”

“Huh?”

Handley raised both hands, as if to erase his last paragraph. “Let me put it another way. You have a computer with an auto-dial phone link. You put the VIRUS program into it and it starts dialing phone numbers at random until it connects to another computer with an auto-dial. The VIRUS program then injects itself into the new computer. Or rather, it reprograms the new computer with a VIRUS program of its own and erases itself from the first computer. The second machine then begins to dial phone numbers at random until it connects with a third machine. You get the picture?”

[. . .]

“You could set the VIRUS program to alter information in another computer, falsify it according to your direction, or just scramble it at random, if you wanted to sabotage some other company.”

Gerrold’s VIRUS was a specific program with that name (he also envisioned an anti-virus program called VACCINE), but it wasn’t long before other writers had picked up the idea. John Brunner’s 1975 science fiction classic The Shockwave Rider features computer viruses and coins the use of worm in relation to such programs:

If I’d had to tackle the job, back when they first tied the home-phone service into the net, I’d have written the worm as an explosive scrambler, probably about half a million bits long, with a backup virus facility and a last-ditch infinitely replicating tail.

And from the June 1982 issue (#158) of the comic Uncanny X-Men:

We simply design an open-ended virus program to erase any and all references to the X-Men and plug it into a central federal data bank. From there, it’ll infect the entire system in no time.

But by the time that X-Men comic hit the newsstands, the first real computer virus was already in existence. A ninth-grader in Mt. Lebanon, Pennsylvania wrote the “Elk Cloner” virus in 1981, that spread among Apple II computers via infected floppy disks. By modern standards, Elk Cloner was pretty harmless, although it was persistent and was still being spotted a decade later. It wasn’t until 1984 that computer scientists started publishing papers using the term virus.

The adjective viral makes its debut in 1948, originally restricted to characterizations of the biological entity. But like the move to computers, the adjective has infected another domain, that of marketing. Viral marketing appears in 1989, referring to word-of-mouth advertising. From the magazine PC User of 27 September 1989:

At Ernst & Whinney, when Macgregor initially put Macintosh SEs up against a set of Compaqs, the staff almost unanimously voted with their feet as long waiting lists developed for use of the Macintoshes. The Compaqs were all but idle. John Bownes of City Bank confirmed this. “It's viral marketing. You get one or two in and they spread throughout the company.”

The advent of public access to the internet meant that viral marketing itself could go viral. From the New York Times of 30 August 2001:

Many of the new games are viral, meaning that they permit players to spread the games by e-mail to friends.

And from a 2004 essay by Andrew Boyd that uses go viral to refer to the initial efforts of the political group MoveOn.org:

MoveOn itself was founded well before the war, or even Bush’s presidency, as an effort during Bill Clinton’s impeachment to push Congress to censure the president and “move on.” Their petition also went viral, gathering half a million signatures in a few weeks. After that, the group used its list to raise money for progressive Democrats. By the time Bush was threatening war, MoveOn had become a well-oiled machine.

So virus and viral have gone from poisonous slime to internet meme in just six centuries.

Discuss this post


Sources:

American Heritage Dictionary of Indo-European Roots, third edition, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2011, s.v. weis-. wiro-.

Bartholomæus Anglicus. On the Properties of Things (De proprietatibus rerum) (before 13998), vol. 1 of 3. John Trevisa, trans. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975, Book 5, Chap. 48, 1.261.

Boyd, Andrew. “How a Twenty-Year-Old Revolutionized the Internet.” In Adrienne Maree Brown and William Upski Wimsatt. How to Get Stupid White Men Out of Office. Brooklyn: Soft Skull Press, 2004, 167–72 at 168

Brunner, John. The Shockwave Rider. New York: Harper & Row, 1975, 176. Archive.org.

Carrigan, Tim. “New Apples Tempt Business.” PC User, 27 September 1989. Quoted at Wordspy.com.

Davis, Connie. “Murray Ridge Road Once Swamped with Forests.” Chronicle-Telegram (Elyria, Ohio), 13 September 1988, A-11/3. NewspaperArchive.com.

Etymological Dictionary of Latin Online, 2010, s.v. vir, virus. Brill: Indo-European Etymological Dictionaries Online.

von Fleischhacker, Robert, ed. Lanfrank’s “Science of Cirugie.” Early English Text Society. London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner, 1894, 80. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Gerrold, David. When Harlie Was One. New York: Ballantine, 1972. Archive.org.

Latham, Ronald E., David R. Howlett, and Richard K. Ashdowne. Dictionary of Medieval Latin form British Sources. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2013, s.v. virus, n.

Lewis, Charlton T. and Charles Short, A Latin Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1879, s.v. virus, n. Brepols: Database of Latin Dictionaries.

M’Fadyean, J. “African Horse-Sickness.” Journal of Comparative Pathology and Therapeutics, 13.1, 31 March 1900, 1–20 at 16. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Mallory, J. P. and D. Q. Adams. The Oxford Introduction to Proto-Indo-European and the Proto-Indo-European World. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2006, 261, 263.

Marriot, Michael. “Playing with Consumers.” New York Times, 30 August 2001, G1/3. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

Master Brovghtons Letters. London: John Wolfe, 1599, 14. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Middle English Dictionary, 8 February 2025, s.v. virus, n.

Nelson, Alexander. Principles of Agricultural Botany. London: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1946, 464. Archive.org.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, June 2008, s.v. virus, n.; 2005, viral, adj.

Photo credit: Cynthia Goldsmith, 2005. US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain image.

slim

Pencil sketch of a seated man in military uniform

A slim customer: General Edmund Allenby, c. 1917.

12 March 2025

The most common use of slim is as an adjective meaning slender or thin, but that is not the only use of the word, and its earliest known appearance in English is as a noun meaning a tall person. It’s a sixteenth-century borrowing from Dutch. In English, slim, meaning slender, almost always has a positive connotation, although in Dutch it can be negative as well.

There is also a slang sense of slim meaning sly or clever, with a connotation of untrustworthiness. One famous use of the slang term is in the 1962 David Lean film Lawrence of Arabia in which American journalist Jackson Bentley (played by Arthur Kennedy) has this exchange with Prince Faisal (Alec Guinness). The conversation is supposed to represent speech from c. 1916:

Faisal: Do you know General Allenby?

Bentley: Watch out for Allenby. He's a slim customer.

Faisal: Excuse me?

Bentley: A clever man.

Faisal: Slim customer. It's very good . . . I'll certainly watch out for him.

But this and the other senses of slim are much older than this movie or the era it is set in.

The earliest use of slim in English, in the sense of a tall person, that I’m aware of is in a definition of the Latin longurio in Thomas Cooper’s 1548 Latin–English dictionary:

Longurio, longurionis, masc. gen. Homo prælongus. A long slimme. Varro apud Nonium.

The adjectival use of the word appears in the mid seventeenth century. In his 1630 poem An Epitome of the Worlds Woe, George Duchante uses slim to mean small, slight, or thin, but in reference fortune or luck, not to a person:

Vnto his mother Altine wrote a letter,
That she might beare his banishment the better.
(Mother said he) I n’ere gaue credit to,
Or trusted Fortunes slimme and subtle show
Although ’twixt me and her did often grow,
Great friendlinesse ’'twas fild with fraud I know.

Three years later, William Harvey’s medical text Anatomical Exercitations uses the adjective in reference to people:

And therefore amongst grown persons, the long slimme Fellows, (whose Thighs, but especially their Shanks, are longer then [sic] ordinary) can stand, walk, run, or vault longer, and at more ease, then square, and well trussed men.

But this sense was by no means confined to medical contexts. George Thornley’s 1657 translation of Longus’s Daphnis and Chloe uses the adjective:

How is it possible for one to catch him? he's small and slim, and so will slip and steal away. And how should one escape, and get away from by flight?

And the slang untrustworthy sense also appears in the mid seventeenth century. Here is an example from Elizabeth Fools Warning, a 1659 poem advising women to not marry older men:

His promises then did please me well,
I loved to go fine I must you tell,
Oh! I was fowly cheated by this old slim,
And on a Palmsunday was married to him
Unknown unto my kindred all
On slippery yce I then did fall.

Again, the noun precedes the adjective in the record, although not by much. We see slim used to mean sly and untrustworthy in a 1664 anti-Catholic polemic by Henry More:

Onely I cannot let go this seasonable opportunity of triumphing in her behalf, in that she is so throughly [sic] reformed from that notorious, though subtle and slim, piece of Antichristianism, I mean that Self-ended Policy in those Doctrines and Practices which are so many in the Church of Rome and so profitable, and yet Our Heaven-directed Reformation has perfectly refined us and cleansed us from them all.

All these senses seem to be in continuous use through to the present. But in the 1980s a grimmer sense of slim made its appearance, that is in slim disease, an African-English coinage for what would become known as AIDS. The term makes its published appearance in the medical journal The Lancet from 19 October 1985:

Most patients present with fever, an itchy maculopapular rash, general malaise, prolonged diarrhoea, occasional respiratory symptoms, and oral candidiasis, but the most dominant feature is extreme wasting and weight loss. Hence the syndrome is known locally as slim disease.


Sources:

Cooper, Thomas. Thesaurus linguæ Romanæ and Britannicæ. London: Thomas Berthelet for Henry Wykes, 1565, s.v. longurio, sig. BBbb 6v. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO). [The OED cites a 1548 edition.]

Duchante, George. An Epitome of the Worlds Woe. London: Thomas Cotes and Richard Cotes, 1630, n.p. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, n.d., s.v. slim, adj.

Harvey, William. Anatomical Exercitations. London: James Young for Octavian Pulleyn, 1653, 330. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Liberman, Anatoly. Word Origins . . . and How We Know Them. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2005, 199–200.

Longus. Daphnis and Chloe. George Thornley, trans. London: John Garfield, 1657, 61–62. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

More, Henry. A Modest Enquiry into the Mystery of Iniquity. London: J. Flesher for W. Morden, 1664, 475. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. slim, adj.; Additions Series, 1993, s.v. slim, n.

Serwadda, D., et al. “Slim Disease: A New Disease in Uganda and Its Association with HTLV-III Infection.” Lancet, 19 October 1985, 849–52 at 849. Elsevier: Science Direct.

With, Elizabeth. Elizabeth Fools Warning. London: Francis Coles, 1659, 4. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Image credit: Unknown artist, c. 1917. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain image.

polite

Two men in 18th-C dress glaring at each other; one says, “You be D_m’d,” the other, “Vous etes un Bete” (You are a beast)

“Politeness,” James Gillray, hand-colored etching, c. 1779

10 March 2025

[Edit, 11 March: cleaned up translation of the Trevisa quote and fixed some typos and poorly worded passages]

It is quite common for a word with a specific and literal meaning to develop figurative or metaphorical meanings that are related to the literal one. And sometimes we can see this same change across multiple languages. Such is the case with polite. The Latin verb polire means to smooth, to polish, and its past participle, politus, and adverbial form, polite, came in that language to mean cultured or refined, a metaphorical polish.

The word first is first recorded in English as a surname—a Robertus Polyte is listed in the records of the reign of Henry III for the year 1263.  The adjective polite appears in English in the late-fourteenth century. The original meaning in English was a literal one of “smooth, polished.” John Trevisa’s 1397 translation of Bartholommaeus Anglicus’s De Proprietatibus Rerum (On the Properties of Things), sort of an early encyclopedia, says this about the stone beryl:

Berill is a stoon of Ynde yliche in grene colour to Smaragde but it is wiþ palenesse, and polit and schape among þe Yndes in sixe-cornerd schap þat dymnesse of colour may be excited by þe reboundyng of þe corners. And oþerwise yschape it haþ no bright schynyng.

(Beryl is a stone from India alike in its green color to emerald, but is marked by its paleness; polited [polished], and shaped in the Indies into a six-cornered shape such that the dimness of color may be excited by the reflections of the corners. And otherwise shaped it has no brilliance.)

Both the Oxford English Dictionary and the Middle English Dictionary classify Trevisa’s use of polit here as an adjective, but it is clearly fulfilling a playing role in the sentence, in apposition to paleness; we would use politeness here if writing this today. Trevisa is translating from Bartholomæus’s Latin, which may account for the OED saying the word is a direct borrowing from Latin, rather than via French, which is correct in this particular case but may not be true generally. Certainly, literate folks of the period would have been familiar with both the Latin and Old French.

Over time, polite began to be used in reference to language. Robert Henryson writes in the prologue to his translation of Aesop’s Fables, c. 1480:

Thocht fenyeit Faabillis of auld Poetrie,
Be nocht all groundit upon treuth, yt than
Thair polite termes of sweit Rethorie,
Ar richt plesand unto the eir of man.

(I think the fictitious fables of old poetry are not all grounded upon truth, but their polite terms of sweet rhetoric are right pleasant to the ear of man.)

And as with Latin, polite in English developed into a general sense of refined, cultured, elegant. Ben Jonson’s 1601 play The Fountaine of Selfe-Love has these lines:

Amor[phus]. Succinctly spoken: I doe vale to both your thanks, and kisse them; but primarily to yours, Most ingenious, acute, and polite Lady.

Phi[lautia]. Gods my life, how he do's all to be qualifie her! Ingenious, Acute, and Polite? as if there were not others in place, as Ingenious, Acute, and Polite, as she.

Hed[on]. Yes, but you must know Lady, he cannot speake out of a Dictionary method.

This sense survives today chiefly in the phrase polite society. Finally, the sense of courteous or well-mannered developed in the mid-eighteenth century.

We see the same development of meanings in French, where the word poli appears around the year 1160 with the meaning of smooth, shiny. By the late-twelfth century the word was being applied to words and diction, meaning careful, well-chosen, and it acquired the meaning of cultured in the late-sixteenth century and well-mannered in the late-seventeenth. And a similar pattern occurs at about the same time in Spanish and Italian. Interestingly in Occitan, a Romance language spoken in southern France and parts of Spain and Italy, the pattern is reversed, at least in the record. In Old Occitan the word polit was first applied metaphorically to well-chosen words in the mid-twelfth century, and the literal meaning of smooth, polished did not develop until the fourteenth century.

So we have a semantic change that occurs in Latin, then centuries later the same pattern repeats itself in a number of languages that borrowed or inherited the word with its original meaning.

Discuss this post


Sources:

Bartholomæus Anglicus. On the Properties of Things (De proprietatibus rerum), vol 2 of 3. John Trevisa, trans, M. C Seymour, ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975, 16.20, 837.

Close Rolls of the Reign of Henry III, vol. 12 (1261–64). London: Stationary Office, 1936, 260. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Henryson, Robert. “Prologue” to The Moral Fables of Æsop in Scottish Metre. In The Poems and Fables of Robert Henryson. David Laing, ed. Edinburgh, 1865, lines 1–4, 101. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Jonson, Ben. The Fountaine of Selfe-Loue. Or Cynthia’s Reuels. London, R. Read for Walter Burre, 1601, 4.3, sig G4r. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Middle English Dictionary, 8 February 2025, s.v. polit(e, adj.

Oxford English Dictionary, third edition, September 2006, s.v. polite, adj. & n.

Image credit: James Gillray, c. 1779. Metropolitan Museum of Art. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain image.

tariff

Headshot of a man (Ben Stein) standing before a blackboard with economic terms written on it

Still from the 1986 film Ferris Bueller’s Day Off of Ben Stein lecturing extremely bored students about the 1930 Hawley-Smoot Tariff

8 March 2025

A tariff is a tax on imported or exported goods, or more precisely, it is a schedule of such tax rates for various types of goods. The word is also used more generally to mean a fee or charge. It was borrowed into English from the Italian tariffa in the late sixteenth century. The Italian word, in turn, comes from the Arabic تَعْرِفَة (ta’rif), meaning notification. As such, it clearly comes out of the lingua franca of cross-Mediterranean trade of the period.

But tariff first appears in an English context in the sense of a table or schedule more generally. That is in Garrard and Hitchcock’s 1591 Arte of Warre, where the authors use it to mean a table of the soldiers in a unit (in present-day U.S. Army jargon a Table of Organization and Equipment or TO&E). In this book it is clear that the word had not yet been fully anglicized as it is in italics and a synonym, table, also provided. Many English military terms were borrowed from Continental languages in the Early Modern period, so the Italian source isn’t surprising:

So that helping your memorie with certain Tablei or Tariffas made of purpose to know the numbers of the souldiers that are to enter into ranke, and what number of rankes will performe the iust square, you can neuer erre, but vpon any sodaine, set in battell any number of souldiers whatsoeuer.

The following year we see the word used in the context of taxation, but here it seems to refer to general taxes, not those on imports or exports. It is in a 3 October 1592 letter from English diplomat Henry Wooton to Edward la Zouche, 11th Baron Zouche. (Digression: Zouche was one of the commissioners at the trial of Mary, Queen of Scots and was the lone vote against her death sentence.) Again, tariff is not fully anglicized; it is highlighted and is in the context of taxes on Italian cities:

The book that I put to be copied for your Honour is not yet ended, nor the tariffa of all the towns in the Grand Duke’s territories, in my hands; for which I have tarried eight days in Florence longer than my determination.

And the word appears in John Florio’s 1598 Italian-English dictionary, A Worlde of Wordes:

Tariffa, arithmetike or casting of accounts.

All these early examples are of an Italian word being used in an English-language text. But by the end of the seventeenth century the word had been fully anglicized and the specific sense of a schedule of taxes on imports and exports was in place. We seen this with the word’s appearance in the 1699 slang dictionary, A New Dictionary of the Canting Crew:

Tariff, a Book of Rates or Customs; also another of the Current Coin.


Sources:

B.E. A New Dictionary of the Terms Ancient and Modern of the Canting Crew, London: For W. Hawes, P. Gilbourne, and W. Davis, 1699, sig. L8r. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Florio, John. A Worlde of Wordes. London: Arnold Hatfield for Edward Blount, 1598, 413/1. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Garrard, William and R. Hitchcock. The Arte of Warre. London: John Charlewood and William Howe for Roger Warde, 1591, 224. ProQuest: Early English Books Online (EEBO).

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. tariff, n.

Wotton, Henry. Letter to Edward la Zouche, 11th Baron Zouche, 3 October 1592.  In Logan Pearsall Smith, ed. The Life and Letters of Sir Henry Wotton, vol. 1 of 2. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1907, 288–89. Archive.org.

Image credit: Paramount Pictures, 1986. Fair use of a single, low-resolution still from a motion picture to illustrate the topic under discussion.

Mandela Effect

Headshot of South African President Nelson Mandela, a gray-haired, Black man in a suit and tie

Nelson Mandela, 1994

7 March 2025

The Mandela Effect is the phenomenon of many people sharing the same false memory. The classic examples, which are cited in nearly every description of the phenomenon, are memories of watching news reports of the death of Nelson Mandela in the 1980s, long before the South African leader’s actual death in 2013, and that the children’s book and television characters were originally spelled Berenstein Bears rather than the actual name, Berenstain Bears.

The fact that many people share such false memories has led some to believe that the phenomenon is evidence for the existence of a parallel universe (or universes) that we only get glimpses of. False memories are extremely common, and while shared false memories may raise eyebrows, prosaic explanations for them are available with no need to resort to the paranormal. For instance, many of those who remember Mandela dying in the 1980s may be conflating Mandela with anti-apartheid activist Steve Biko, who died in 1977 while in the custody of South African police. And because the spelling -stein is more common that -stain, people naturally read -stein when they see -stain. (The 2010 US Census lists 128 instances of Berenstein and 17,916 for Bernstein, while Berenstain and Bernstain appear less than 100 times. The Census does not call out names that appear less than 100 times.)

The earliest example of the phrase Mandela Effect that I have been able find is in the blog The Wood Between Worlds on 23 June 2012, written by Reece:

Plenty of people have brought up the Mandela Effect. Depending on your take on things, this is when huge groups of people all have similar false memories. Alternately, this is when some people shift to a different timeline and notice that their transplanted memories no longer accord with official history. The name comes from an apparently widespread belief that Nelson Mandela died in the 80’s, which resulted in massive riots throughout Africa.

The Berenstein/Berenstain confusion is included on their list of common memories. Also included are things like a portrait of Henry VIII eating a turkey leg, or New Zealand once being located north of Australia.

Reece also claims to have originated the parallel universe explanation (they were taking a class on quantum field theory when they discovered that the name was actually Berenstain), although their parallel universe explanation was just idle musing not an actual belief.

Various online blogs and websites picked up on Reece’s use, and Mandela Effect appears with some frequency on the internet in subsequent years.

The earliest example of the name that I have found in legacy media is a 17 August 2015 article in Toronto’s Globe and Mail newspaper:

Most of the articles claimed that there are several such widely held historical false memories. They refer to something supposedly called the Mandela Effect: This theory has it that many people believe that Nelson Mandela died in prison in the 1980s. There are conspiracy-theory websites claiming that if so many people have such a false memory, then this un-fact could also have existed in a parallel universe that we somehow got a glimpse of.

Some news articles credit a Fiona Broome, a “paranormal researcher,” with coining the phrase and inventing the parallel universe theory, but there is no evidence that she originated either one.

Discuss this post

Sources:

Reece. “On the Berenstein Bears Switcheroo.” The Wood Between Worlds (blog), 23 June 2014.

Smith, Russell. “A Case of Schrodinger’s Nostalgia.” Globe and Mail (Toronto), 17 August 2015, L3/1–2. ProQuest Historical Newspapers.

US Census Bureau. “Frequently Occurring Surnames from the 2010 Census—File B: Surnames Occurring 100 or More Times.” Census.gov. Page last revised on 8 October 2021.

Photo credit: John Mathew Smith, 1994. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.