Thanks to Mary Jane F.
A Norwegian faced with the need to keep related paper documents together designed and patented his version of the paper clip in 1899. It proved to be one loop too short of the ideal shape! Johan Vaaler (1866-1910) had a background in electronics and mathematics and worked in an “invention office” in Norway. His need to maintain voluminous paper records led him to devise a paper clip. For the prior several hundred years, a ribbon slipped through linear slots cut in the same location in each page was used to bind related paper documents. For a very short time before the paper clip, some used a straight pin to attach paper documents to each other. An American physician had invented the straight pin to hold cloth together for tailoring.
Vaaler initially obtained a patent for his invention in Germany and a few years later in the United States; Norway did not have patent laws at the time. Vaaler neither improved nor marketed his invention. Unknowingly to Vaaler, Gem Manufacturing Limited in the United Kingdom, had produced and marketed but not patented a paper clip. Theirs was a “double-U” slide-on paper clip. Subsequently, it was called, generically, the “Gem paper clip”, no matter the manufacturer. (Figs.1 and 2a) It was superior to Vaaler’s original single loop clip (Fig 2b). Other companies have developed other shapes and sizes for the paper clip. (Fig. 2c) This odd sequence of events reflected the limited communications among nations on such topics and the ease of patenting at that time. Vaaler’s patents gave him some priority and the idea was very likely his own since the Gem paper clip, apparently, was neither known nor present in Norway at the time of his work.
Figure 1. The “Gem” double loop clip.
Although Vaaler neither improved nor marketed his original paper clip, the Norwegians took pride in his recognition as the inventor of this simple, but very useful, device. At the time of the German occupation of Norway during World War II, the Norwegians used various symbols of resistance. These included the more obvious buttons with the likeness or initials of their King, Haakon VII, who was in exile. Arrest would follow such overt acts. As a substitute, they wore paper clips on their shirt or jacket as a symbol of Norwegian solidarity against their Nazi occupiers.
King Haakon, a Norse name he assumed after he was crowned, was much beloved and respected by Norwegians. He had been Prince Carl in Denmark. When Norway negotiated their separation from a union with Sweden under the reign of the King Oscar II of Sweden. Prince Carl was elected King of Norway by popular referendum: a unique method to choose a King. After the referendum, in 1905, he was given the crown in a ceremony of the Norwegian Storting, its legislature.
In 1940, the Germans invaded Norway, virtually unopposed by a weaker Norwegian military. The Nazis needed to secure Norwegian ports from which Swedish steel was shipped, assuring the Third Reich a supply to underpin its war machine and depriving access to the allies. King Haakon, refusing to be a German puppet, escaped to England through Sweden. From that haven, he led and encouraged his people through radio broadcasts and other means during the war. Norwegians used the paper clip on one’s lapel or shirt, a patented Norwegian innovation, as a symbol of resistance during the Nazi occupation.
Today a 7-meter tall paper clip monument honors Johan Vaaler, although the statue depicts the Gem paperclip, not Vaaler’s specific design (Figure 3). The statue was originally placed outside a commercial college in Sandvika, near Oslo. It was later moved to the BSN student houses in another site.
| Joyce Vance Sep 20 |
On Thursday, E. Jean Carroll started it: Paper Clip Protest.
“Comely Reader! I suggest we all start wearing the paper clip. Subtler than a red hat, more powerful as a CONNECTION,” she wrote, explaining they were also worn during World War II as a sign of resistance against the Nazis.
Norwegian teachers and students wore paper clips to signal their opposition to Nazi occupation. They attached them to their lapels and wore them as jewelry, a symbol of solidarity binding them together as paper clips did with papers. It was a quiet act of defiance, expressing that Norwegians remained united against Nazi rule.
Friday, when I signed on to tape the #SistersInLaw Podcast, Jill Wine Banks had a clip delicately attached to the collar of her shirt. It made me smile. In that moment, I knew E. Jean was onto something. Our defiance can and must be loud and public at this point. But the quiet symbol of solidarity on someone’s collar when you walk into a crowded room? Genius. And much better than a red hat.
You probably have a paper clip in your desk or junk drawer that you can put on straight away. You can be a subtle signal of support for people who need that right now. You can be a conservation starter. Jill tells me she’s having special paper clips made for the occasion—very fitting for a woman known for wearing pins—and has promised to send me one.
Small efforts can bear fruit when we’re all in on them. I’m going to find a paper clip before I head out to the farmers’ market.
We’re in this together,
Joyce