Romy, Meta, omicron – it’s a classics comeback

The recent explosion of ancient Latin and Greek names suggests classical languages are far from dead

By Harry Mount in the Daily Telegraph

Something strange is happening and it’s all Greek to me. First came Meta, the new name for Facebook. Then the omicron strain of Covid (pictured above). Now Boris Johnson and his wife, Carrie, have given their newborn daughter the Latin name Romy, which is short for Rosemary – from “ros marinus”, meaning “dew of the sea”. Her second name, Iris, was the name of the Greek messenger goddess and personification of the rainbow (pictured above right in George Hayter's Venus supported by Iris, complaining to Mars (Copyright Chatsworth House).

Over the past few weeks, there has been an explosion of Greek – and Latin – terms in the headlines. The biggest – and most worrying – classical development is in the spread of omicron.

Like the previous strains, such as beta and delta, it was named after a letter of the Greek alphabet. It’s pronounced with a short “o” and literally means “little o” in ancient Greek. The last letter in the Greek alphabet, omega – said with a long “o” – means “big o” in ancient Greek. How long before we’re dealing with the omega strain of the virus? Coronavirus is itself a hybrid Latin word – from “corona”, meaning crown, and “virus”, originally meaning venom.

The business world has gone Greek, too. On October 28, Facebook changed its company name to Meta, with CEO Mark Zuckerberg declaring: “Today we are seen as a social media company, but in our DNA we are a company that builds technology to connect people, and the metaverse is the next frontier just like social networking was when we got started.”

Zuckerberg has taken Meta some way from its origins. In ancient Greek, “meta” was a powerful little preposition and prefix, meaning everything from “with” to “beside”, “after”, “among”, “self” and “adjacent”.

In its modern use, meta is a hybrid of “beyond”, “about” and “alternative”. So the metaverse is an alternative way of looking at life through Facebook-tinted spectacles.

The renaming of the social media platform is a typical example of the “classics-washing” many businesses now seem to favour. While “greenwashing” gives companies a veneer of virtuosity when they proclaim their eco-credentials, “classics-washing” lends an air of age and distinction.

Fund managers are particularly keen on classical names. Just look at Artemis (“the Profit-Hunter”), Omnia Fund and Troy Asset Management.

And it has been going on for decades. In 1910, a German car company was renamed Audi – Latin for “listen”. In 1890, a bread company – Smith’s Patent Process Germ Flour – was renamed Hovis, from the Latin “hominis vis”, meaning “strength of man”.

Latin is also making a comeback in fashion circles. At the Mexico Grand Prix in November, Lewis Hamilton wore a green Gucci outfit with the words “sine amore nihil” – “without love, nothing”.

And the classical influence on fashion has been visible for a long time. Katie Walker, a Latin scholar and the designer behind the Vedette fashion brand, says: “Versions of the Greek goddess dress – reimagined by the creative Titans Vionnet (in the 1920s), Halston (in the 1970s) and now the Lebanese designer Rabih Kayrouz – have remained popular for 100 years.” While the Greco-Roman (or “gladiator”) sandal has been popular with Picasso, Brigitte Bardot and Kate Moss.

In fact, classical references are so deeply embedded in our culture that we often forget they are there. Two of the world’s three most valuable fashion brands – Hermès and Nike – take their names from ancient Greek deities. And who now remembers that Status Quo, those rock gods, called themselves after a Latin expression – “status quo ante” – meaning “the status before”?

The Gucci T-shirt worn by Hamilton is just the latest example of this ancient tomb-raiding tendency among the rich and famous.

Celebrities started going crazy for Latin tattoos 20 years ago. On David Beckham’s left forearm, he has the tricky expression, “Ut amem et foveam” – “That I may love and cherish” – a correct use of the subjunctive. On his right forearm, he has the number of the football shirt he wore (seven) in Roman numerals, accompanied by the words “Perfectio in spiritu” – “Perfection in Spirit”.

On her stomach, Angelina Jolie has a tattoo reading, “Quod me nutrit me destruit” – “What nourishes me destroys me.”

With all this in mind, last week I set up Latin Rules, the first ever Latin and Greek branding agency, with two classicist friends I met at Westminster School, including Walker. Ours is the first business to offer Latin and Greek translations for mottoes, jokes, invitations, speeches, clothes design and branding.

The third founder is Justin Warshaw QC, a family lawyer who still finds Latin useful today in his work. “The law is a goldmine of great Latin tags. Legal Latin was apparently abolished by Lord Woolf in 1999, acting ‘pro bono publico’,” he says. “Thankfully the judgment was ‘interim’ and, ‘mutatis mutandis’, major reforms have been avoided. The ‘forum’ is still ‘conveniens’, the ‘locus’ is still ‘in quo’, ‘amicus curiae’ is still briefed, ‘habeas corpus’ invoked, a judge can be ‘functus’, legitimate reductions remain ‘pro tanto’, the ‘Carta’ remains ‘Magna’, the guilty has ‘mens rea’ for his ‘actus reus’ and adjournments can still be ‘sine die’.”

Latin isn’t a dead language then. It’s still very much alive and kicking – and thanks to a new spate of classics-washing looks to be sticking around, not consigned to the history books. As our new company motto says: the only way forwards is backwards.

Harry Mount is author of Amo, Amas, Amat and All That (Short Books)

• latinrules.co.uk

How to become a Latin – and Greek – lover

By Harry Mount in the Daily Telegraph

It helps if, like the Prime Minister’s new baby daughter, you’ve got a Latin name, or can give your newborn one (perhaps even the pet dog). But if it’s too late for all that, you might want to start dropping a few Latin or Greek expressions into your everyday speech. It’s vital, though, to get them right. Never say “the hoi polloi”, for example. “Hoi polloi” means “the many” in ancient Greek. So the hoi polloi is a repetition, meaning “the the many”.

Do start crying “Mirabile dictu!” – “Wonderful to say” – when somebody comes up with a terrific expression. Or, if they say something miserable about the state of the world, mournfully mutter, “O tempora, o mores.” That’s a quote from the great orator Cicero, meaning, “Oh the times! Oh the customs!”

Don’t feel intimidated by Latin and Greek. You may not realise it but you already use a lot of classical words in the original, like these ones:

Ad nauseam – endlessly (literally “until sickness”)

Carpe diem – seize the day (from Horace’s Odes)

Etc – an abbreviation of et cetera, meaning “and the other things”

Post mortem – after death

You also know a lot of Greek, even if you think you don’t know one iota – the Greek letter of the alphabet, meaning an ‘i’. The Arian controversy in the fourth century AD was all about the use of a single iota. Supporters of the theologian Arius argued that God the Son and God the Father were homoiousios – Greek for “similar”. Their opponents said the two were homoousios – Greek for “the same”. Which is of course where we get the word ‘homosexuality’ from. The difference between the two words depended on the addition of a single iota. Thus the phrase, “an iota of difference”, to signify the tiniest of distinctions.

And once you’ve learnt all this, you can cry, just like Archimedes in his bath, “Eureka” – Greek for “I’ve got it!”