Roman words

candidate

I’m sure you know what a candidate is – someone who’s being considered for a job, position, award, honour, and so on. It doesn’t always have to be a person either, for example, ‘that wall is a prime candidate for a fresh coat of paint’ (said no-one ever, but you get the idea). But, why are these people (and walls) called candidates?

As usual, we need to take a quick trip back to ancient Rome for the answer. ‘Candidate’ comes from the Latin word candidatus, which literally means ‘clothed in white’. That’s because in ancient Rome, men running for public office (and it was only men, sadly – women were legally barred from holding public office, voting or joining the Roman Senate) wore a special bright-white toga called a ‘toga candida’. This brilliant white wool was supposed to symbolise purity, honesty and transparency of intention. Hmmm. The toga's name came from the Latin verb candere, meaning ‘to shine’ or ‘to be glowing white’ – that’s also where we get words like ‘candid’ and ‘candle’ from.

Someone wearing this white toga was referred to as a candidatus AKA ‘a white-robed person’. Over time, we stopped using the term to describe the clothing and started using it to refer to the person seeking office themselves. ‘Candidate’ entered Early Modern English in the 17th century straight from the Latin, eventually broadening to mean anyone applying for a position, award or political office.

(Slightly unpleasant aside – if you’ve ever had thrush, you might know that the fungus that causes it is called ‘candida’. That also comes straight from candidus, due to the fact that it grows in creamy-white colonies. Yuck. Thrush’s full Latin name is Candida albicans, with albicans coming from the Latin albicō meaning ‘to become white’. So that means our fungus is effectively called ‘whitey white’. I do love an etymology tautology.)

trivia

You know what trivia is – information that’s usually quite interesting and perhaps not that widely known, but probably not that important. Also a thing that you have to have ready when you’re female and you tell a man you’re interested in something, and he immediately asks you to prove it (actual conversations with male friends: ‘I’m a big Star Wars fan.’ ‘Really? How many forms of communication is C-3PO fluent in*?’ And: ‘I love watching tennis.’ ‘Yes? How many French Opens has Nadal won**?’)

The word ‘trivia’ comes from Latin and is the plural form of ‘trivium’ (but don’t ever use the singular version because you’ll sound like a dick), which means ‘place where three roads meet’. In ancient Rome, ‘trivium’ was used to refer to the three subjects of the beginners’ liberal arts course at university, which were: grammar (my fave), rhetoric (the study and practice of persuasive public speaking) and logic (a branch of philosophy focusing on valid and sound reasoning). While these might not seem that trivial to us, the fact that ‘trivium’ was the name for the beginners’ class is probably why it’s since evolved to refer to less important information.

I asked my robot overlord, ChatGPT, to tell me some trivia, and here’s what it said:

  • Honey never spoils. Archaeologists have found pots of honey in ancient Egyptian tombs that are over 3,000 years old and still perfectly edible.

  • The shortest war in history occurred between Britain and Zanzibar in 1896. It lasted only 38 minutes.

  • The world’s oldest known recipe is for beer. It dates back to ancient Sumeria around 1800 BCE.

  • The Eiffel Tower in Paris was originally intended to be a temporary structure, built for the 1889 World’s Fair. It was almost dismantled afterward but was saved because of its value as a radio transmission tower.

  • The average person spends around six months of their lifetime waiting at red traffic lights.

  • The national animal of Scotland is the unicorn.

  • The world’s largest flower is the Rafflesia arnoldii, which can grow up to three feet in diameter and weigh up to 24 pounds. It’s also known for its distinctive smell, often likened to that of rotting flesh.

  • Astronauts’ height can change in space. Without the force of gravity compressing their spines, they can grow up to 2 inches taller while spending extended periods in space.

*It’s six million. Which I did know.

** It’s 14. Which I didn’t know. But I do now, and I’m ready for you, men.