I’ve spent some time recently revisiting the Voynich Manuscript’s labelese, as well as its Pisces zodiac roundel page, and thinking about how that might relate to February. However, making all of these parallel strands “land” at the same time has proved difficult: even if the zodiac labels are some kind of cisiojanus “syllable soup”, we still have many practical problems linking everything together into one solid decryption.

Still, having now spent some time putting February’s “Bri pur bla sus” saint’s days and festivals under the microscope, it’s becoming apparent that many of these Christian saints were martyred virgins: and so perhaps the whole notion of oddly-angelic naked nymphs isn’t as far away from the subject matter as you might at first think.

Moreover, having thought about the really important feast days associated with men, I’m coming round to the idea that perhaps these may be connected to the few “male nymphs”. I’m thinking specifically about whether the beardy breastless nymph below might be connected with February 22nd, Cathedra Petri [the Feast of St Peter’s Seat].

So I’m now coming round to wonder: if the (relatively few) male nymphs in the zodiac section are broadly linked to specifically male feast days, might we be able to use them to reconstruct the nymph numbering? (i.e. which nymph is linked with which day.)

But before launching into that, I thought it would be good to see what people had previously posted on this general topic.

Notes on Nymph Numbering

D’Imperio mentions (3.3.3) that Peterson noted that some of the nymphs might be male: but doesn’t seem to mention trying to reconstruct the correct order of the nymphs.

Going through the voynich.net archives reveals various observations:

  • Rene Z [15 Aug 1997]: “The nymphs were drawn from the inside ring outwards, with the text added either immediately or afterwards. I think there are two possibilities for the order: either starting near 00:00 and going clockwise or starting near 09:00 and going against the clock, this from observing where the nymphs are more cramped together (especially the inner circle of Sagittarius).”
  • Rene Z [15 Aug 1997] “There is one nymph in Gemini without a label. I would favour the idea that this was a simple oversight. There is also one nymph without a star somewhere…”
  • John Grove [05 Oct 1997]: “In the June and December pages, the first nymph outside the circle has a ‘carpet’ under her feet. If you read the calendar from the inside out (as I have had a tendancy to do), these two nymphs occur 5 (for June) and 4 (for December) — days? — before the end of the zodiac month.”
  • Rene Z [1 Oct 1998]: “In the zodiac section, the standing nymphs all have their right hands either pointing backwards or placed on their hips.”
  • Rene Z [18 Jan 1999]: “About 1 out of 6 of the standing nymphs have their hand pointing behind them, not on the hip. But for nine-pointed stars this fraction is zero. I checked that the probability of this is 0.02 if this was just due to chance.”

One thread also suggested looking here at a woodcut in: Paul Heitz (Hg.), Einblattdrucke des 15. Jh., Bd. 18: Richard Schmidbauer, Einzel-Formschnitte des 15. Jh. in der Staats-, Kreis- und Stadtbibliothek Augsburg, Straßburg 1909, Taf. 9. Wilhelm Ludwig Schreiber, Handbuch der Holz- und Metallschnitte des XV. Jh., Leipzig 1925-1930, Nr. 1883a. However, Google Books didn’t seem to have a copy of this, alas.

I also found a VoynichViews blog post that highlighted a specific Sagittarius nymph holding her star downwards.

Please feel free to point me towards any posts that specifically discuss issues around determining / reconstructing the correct order of the Voynich zodiac nymphs, because (for example) I had no luck finding anything on voynich.ninja.

However, most of the interesting thoughts on the (old) list were in a single 1999 post by Jorge Stolfi: he wondered if he could discern any visual clues that signalled which was the first nymph of each zodiac page. So I decided to copy the whole post here as a section in its own right…

Jorge Stolfi’s thoughts [21 Jan 1999]

(Here’s what Jorge Stolfi posted on the subject of nymph numbering back in 1999):

Yesterday I thought that those nymphs might mark the starting point
for reading each ring of stars. Now that I have looked at those cases
with some care I am not so sure. Anyway, here are the cases that I
could see:

70v2 Pisces

 There is one nymph with both arms raised at 00:15 in
 the inner band.

 I would say that this is the most likely starting point for
 the inner star sequence, which runs clockwise (agreeing with
 the text). Thus I think that the inner parade begins with
 Miss Otalar (stretched arm), and ends with Miss Otaral
 (facing clockwise)

 This is another anomaly of Pisces, since in the
 other diagrams the starting point seems to be around 10:30. I
 suppose tha the last nymph at 11:30 was reversed so that it
 would face the "honor spot" at noon.

 The starting point of the outer band is not so obvious. I
 would say it is near the top, too, but it could be before,
 after, or in the middle of the four "baby" nymphs.

f70v1 Aries “dark”

 Here all nymphs have the right hand on the hip; several have
 the left hand down too. My guess for the starting point is at
 10:30 in both bands, i.e. Miss Otalchy (the Tar Am Dy) and
 Miss Okoly. Note that they (and only they) are holding their
 high enough to intrude into the surrounding text ring.
 Moreover Miss Okoly is wearing a striped sleeve (or
 whatever).

 Note again that the label at 06:00 is not obviously
 associated with any star, so it must be attached to one of
 the nymphs. I would say that, going clockwise, each label is
 associated with the preceding nymph.

f71r Aries light

 Here all nymphs have the same pose: right arm
 on the hip, left arm up and holding the star.
 The stars have no tails, except for the outer 04:30
 one that has a very short one.

 The starting point for each text ring is clearly marked by
 the "notched square" device, which occurs in other cosmo
 diagrams, presumably with the same function.

 As I argued in my previous message, this is the zodiac page
 with the most "primitive" style.

f71v Taurus “light”

 Here too all nymphs have the same pose. I see no obvious
 "start" marker for the nymphs, except perhaps for the
 decorated dustbin of Miss Otalody, the inner nymph at 00:00.

 However the outer text ring has a wider gap at 10:30 (the
 "standard" starting place), with a centered dot which may be
 the last vestige of the notched square symbol.

 To my eyes, the style of this page is only a bit less primitive than that
 of f71r.

f72r1 Taurus “dark”

 The outer nymph at 02:30 has her right arm stretched back and
 down; all the others have the right hand on the hip or inside
 the dustbins.

 There are no obviosu start markers that I can see, but the
 reproduction I have is unreadable around 03:00. There is
 anextra wide gap in the inner parade around 10:30, but that
 may be a consequence of the "cigarette hole" and its visual
 pun. Other plausible candidates are the nymphs at 00:00, Miss
 Otchoshy and Miss Oaiin Ar-Ary.

 I would say that the figures on the outer band of this
 diagram are the first attempts by the artist at drawing
 full-body naked women.

f72r2 Gemini

 My copy is almost illegible. I can see on the outer band one
 naked nymph at 10:30, Miss Okar-Aldy, with the right arm
 stretched out. That seems to be the "standard" starting
 position in several other diagrams.

 Most of the other nymphs have the right hand on the hip. Some
 have the right arm back and down, bent or straight, but it is
 questionable whether this pose is significantly different
 from hand-on-hip. The extreme case is the figure at 06:30 on
 the outer band, Miss (or Master?) Otarar (dressed, standing
 on an horizontal tube); the first of four dressed figures.
 Miss Ofchdamy, the first of the five "extra" nymphs at the top,
 may be another significant exception, but her
 forearm is not visible on my copy.

f72r3 Cancer

The outer nymph at 11:00, miss Otchy(?)-Daiin, has the right
arm stretched back and down at 45 degrees. She may well be the
leader of that band; there is a wide gap between her and the 
preceding nymph at 09:30.

I cannot see any other nymph with stretched right arm, but 
half of the nymphs are just faint blurs on my copy. 

f72v3 Leo

I see two ladies with the right arm stretched back and down at
45 degrees, bot on the inner band: Miss Oky at 11:30,
and Miss Oteeod(?) at 06:15.  

There is no obvious starting point, but the diagram is 
cut by multiple creases between 07:00 and 10:30, which seems
a natural place to start.

f72v2 Virgo

This seems to be a very complicated month astronomically 8-)
There are many nymphs in new and strange poses, and even a freak
reappearance of the dustbin (shallow, with "cutaway" edge).

I can see several nymphs with the right arm stretched back and
down at 45 degrees.  In the outer band there are Opaiin at 08:30,
and Ofchdy-Sh. at 05:00.  In the inner band we have four consecutive
nymphs starting at 05:00 (Cheosy, Ofcheey, Yteedy, On-Aiin).

However we also have a nymph at 00:15, Miss Oeedy, with *both*
arms stretched back, and hands clasped behind her.  Three 
nymphs (outer Oeedey and Oeeo-Daiin at 10:30-10:45, inner
Oka*** at 10:30) are grasping their stars with both hands;
and inner Okeeom at 01:30 is almost doing the same.

f72v1 Libra

Miss Oteoly at 10:30 on the outer band (the "standard" starting
place), has the right arm stretched back and down. But so do
Miss Okeeoly at 01:00 and Miss Okal at 11:00.

In the inner band the nymphs are holding their right hand in
various positions near the hip; none seems to have a clearly
"stretched-out" arm. The one that comes closest is Miss Oko**y
at 03:30, but she is bending down to avoid the "cigarette
hole", and the hand position my be accidental. In any case
that hole would be a natural starting place for the inner band.

f73r Scorpio

Outer Misses Dolshey and Opaiin at 08:00-09:00 have outstretched
right arms. The latter is more exhuberant and holds a bigger
star.  09:00 could be a starting place in this case.

Ladies Shekal, Okeedy and Okedal at 05:00-06:30 outer band, 
have stretchde arms.  They cannot be all starting points...

In the ineer band, the stretched-arm ladies are Miss Chek and
Miss Kar (not their real names, I am sure 8-) Miss Kar, by the
way, is the one who was involved in the cigarette hole affair
with Taurus girl, as reported bove.

Outside the diagram, at the top, there are Miss Chockhy and 
Miss Yteeody; the latter may a full stop, hardly a start marker...

f73v Sagittarus

I see only three ladies with stretched arms here. In the outer
band we have Miss Ykeody at 02:00 and Miss Okeody at 10:00; the
latter may well be the band leader. In the inner band I see only
Miss Otal at 03:00.

As previously mentioned, I’ve been grinding my way through the Cisiojanus entries for February (mainly from the Usuarium website). However, it turns out that there is far less variation than I supposed. For example, “Ig” (on the 1st February) appears in only a single missal (FR Noyon 1541, Missale Noviomense). And even though St Walburga is listed in some volkskalenders, I haven’t seen “Wal” appear in an single Cisiojanus mnemonic for February 25th. And finally, many of what I first thought were variants are actually nothing more than transcription errors.

Anyway, here’s my current list for February circa 1400-1450:

1Bri / IgSt Brigid of Ireland (v)
2Pur*Purificatio Mariae
3BlaSt Blaise (Blasius)
4Sus
5AgSt Agatha (v)
6Ath / At / DorSt Dorothea (v)
7Fe
8BruBruno of Querfurt, Archbishop in Prussia
9O / ApSt Apollonia (v)
10ScoSt Scholastica (v)
11Las / La
12Ti / Sti
13Ca
14Val / VaSt Valentine (yes, that St Valentine)
15Ent / Lent
16Lu / In / JuSt Juliana of Nicomedia
17Li / Ly
18ConSt Concordia
19Iun / Jun
20Ge
21Tu[n]c
22Pet / Pe*Cathedra Petri (St Peter’s Chair)
23Ru[m] / Tru[m]*[vigilia]
24Mat / Ma*St Matthias, Apostle
25ThiSt Walburga (v)  
26Am
27In
28De / Te

Note that the four starred days are the ones I’ve seen written in red on some (but not all) calendars: most have only one or two red days.

My original plan was to compare these mnemonic syllables with the labels for the Voynich Manuscript’s f70v2. However, this simply doesn’t seem to go anywhere. I’ve tried to line up ot/ok in labels with male saints vs female saints, or with virgin martyrs, but nothing seems to match.

I’ve also looked for (more traditional Art History) subject matches (e.g. St. Apollonia is associated with toothache, St Brigid with protection, blacksmithing, livestock, dairy, etc) in the “nymph” drawings, but so far have found zilch. [The outer ring ‘nymph’ at around 4 o’clock appears to have a beard and no breasts so I’d guess is male, but might he be St Peter? It’s not a very convincing argument, I cannot deny it.]

I’ve also been thinking about this with reference to the Volkskalender B family of manuscripts I discussed here many years ago. For example, BSB Cgm 28, or St Gallen Cod. Sang. 760, or Zurich Ms C. 54 [which has a Cisiojanus column], Pal. Germ. 291, and so on. But this too feels like it’s a busted flush: computus aside (calculating Easter), there’s really not a lot to work with there, calendar-wise.

What’s Left?

My “Attack the Fish!” post mentioned Fribourg Ms L. 309, which inspired commenter Peter Moesli to look beyond the calendar page in that manuscript. He found a health tip for February there: “Beware of the cold and do not wash your head or cut your hair“.

All I feel I currently have left is wondering whether this health tip is broadly the type of ‘secret’ we should be looking for as a possible text match for the rings of the zodiac pages. The Pisces page, for example, has three circular rings, which would amount to roughly 5/6 lines of text. So if these rings are where the actual ‘payload’ is located, it’s surely not a very big payload.

Bah.

In a comment to my last post, I remarked that I suspect the labels on the pages with the zodiac roundels might be verbosely-enciphered syllables of a cisiojanus mnemonic. As an example of how this might work, I expanded out “cisiojanus epi sibi vendicat”: unfortunately, this was for January, and January was (circa 1400-1450) associated with Aquarius, which – along with Capricorn – is one of the two zodiac signs that were (probably) removed from the Voynich Manuscript, alas.

Consequently I need to pick a different target. Hence my plan is to Attack The Fish! (i.e. Pisces, f70v2)

So, what I’ll be doing over the next few days / weeks (though I sincerely hope not months) is exploring the world of Cisiojanus through a fishy February lens. This will involve understanding the saints, syllables, languages, traditions etc. For example, February 1st celebrates St Brigide v. [“v.” = virginis], February 2nd is Purificatio Marie (this is Candlemas, celebrated 40 days after Christmas, which is the day Mary went to the Temple in Jerusalem to be purified, following Jewish law), 5th is for St Agatha, 9th for St Appolonia, and so on.

For anyone wanting to come along for the ride, here’s a link to February from (arguably) the nearest example of an astronomical calendar we have, i.e. the “Astronomical medical calendar in German (Studio of Diebolt Lauber at Hagenau, about 1430 – 1450)“. I haven’t yet read Rosy Schilling’s work on this, but I plan to do this very shortly. Similarly, here’s a cisiojanus column in a volkskalender February from Fribourg MS L. 309, another nice manuscript I’ve previously linked to here. There will be more, many more!

Just so you know, it’s easy to Google web pages with February cisiojanus manuscripts. This is because they typically start “bri pur blasus…” or “bri pur bla sus”. One exceptional source for liturgical calendar stuff is the Usuarium (here’s its page for February), which I hadn’t seen before today.

One of the enduring mysteries of the Voynich Manuscript’s enigmatic “Voynichese” script is that it varies. Not content with having two full-blown ‘languages’/’dialects’ (known as Currier A and Currier B), the way Voynichese ‘behaves’ on a glyph-level, word-level, line-level, paragraph-level, page-level and even section-level varies in many, many other ways (e.g. LAAFU etc).

This pervasive variability is an easy spanner to throw in the works of the kind of ‘simple [universal] explanation’ that gets periodically churned up for Voynichese – you know, mirrored High German, etc. No natural language structure could explain this variability – languages are stubbornly historical and offer students challenges on many levels, for sure, but Voynichese is just something else.

One of the many Voynichese variations is “labelese”: these are short words or phrases that appear to be attached to labels on complicated diagrams (normally with astronomical or zodiacal content, as per the dominant interpretation). Complicating the issue is that labelese can be juxtaposed with non-labelese, such as with this image from the “Aries” (f71r) page:

Here you can see some normal-looking (continuous) Voynichese (on the curved lines of text), together with some shorter labels (in EVA: okldam, oteoaldy, and oteolar). And you might possibly speculate from this that the continuous-looking Voynichese might be normal Voynichese language, and that the labelese might be some kind of simplified subset of Voynichese.

The reason for suspecting a subset is that you almost never see labelese words starting with (EVA) qo- (which is a hugely popular pattern in Currier B – so almost no qok- words or qot- words). And you often see l- initial words in some Currier B (particularly in Q13), which we can see here (but never in Currier A).

But… look again at the image. The outer band of text here runs “okeeedy oky eey okeodar okeoky oteody oto otol oteeyar“. And the inner band of text runs “ockhchy oteesaey lcheotey okarody shs“. The way that so many of these words (both in the labels and the continuous curved text) start with ok- / ot- is more than a bit suspicious, hein?

In fact, you might go so far as to suggest that labelese’s ok- words seem to broadly correspond to (say) Q20’s qok- words (I think that the labelese ok-/ot- ratio is about the same as the Q20 qok-/qot- ratio, but I haven’t checked).

In Q20, y- initial words tend to be the first words in a line (suggesting that there is some clever bastard trickery going on with line-initial glyphs), but in labelese we see very few. Perhaps labelese might be trying to disguise where each individual set of labels start?

So my thought for today is simply this: might ok- be a kind of labelese-specific null? In which case the original text might have been continuous text, which was then divided into small label-sized chunks and had an ok- prepended to most of them.

I’ve just had some nice emails from Belgian writer Dirk Huylebrouck, whose article on the mysterious cryptograms in Moustier church is (today) appearing in popular Belgian science magazine EOS. Dirk’s article has some great photographs, and even includes some insights from codebreaker Jarl van Eycke (whom readers here may know as jarlve and/or from the deservedly famous Zodiac decryption). It’s a nice piece of work, well illustrated and well laid out, one which I heartily recommend to all my Belgian readers.

And here’s the article…

And even better, here’s a PDF of Dirk’s English translation of his own article. Modestly, he asked whether I would prefer to edit it a little: but it’s actually a very clear and entertaining read just as it is, and all that my well-meaning edits would probably achieve would be to lose both his voice and the article’s charm.

Dirk also suggested that I might like to include images of his photos of Moustier’s twin altars here, simply because there are so few of these on the Internet. I am of course more than happy to oblige (click on this for a decent-sized resolution, both images are (c) 2022 Dirk Huylebrouck):

Finally, the interesting bit…

If I have even a small criticism, it would be that the article gives perhaps a little too much space to Rudy Cambier’s Nostradamus-based Moustier theory (which I covered here back in 2013). But in the end you can’t deny it’s a Belgian theory, so I guess Dirk had plenty of reason to indulge it just a little for EOS. 😉

Of course, even though his article captures much of the spirit of the Moustier cryptograms, Dirk is such an eminently sensible chap that he doesn’t hazard his own (inevitably doomed) guess as to what is going on. To be fair, Jarl’s crypto insights – for example, that there are far fewer letters repeated on each line of carved text than you might generally expect – do seem to run directly counter to just about any natural language hypothesis you might have about any possible underlying text. So perhaps there are fewer sustainable (supposedly) “common-sense” readings here than you might otherwise think.

The article also highlight’s Philippe Connart’s suggestion of a possible link with 10th century lettering found at the abbey of Saint-Amand-les-Eaux (40km away). All the same, that does make me wonder whether what we are looking at in Moustier might be an (imperfect) copy of a much older carving, which itself had become worn and illegible over time, leaving us at least “twice removed” from the original.

Dirk’s collaborator Evelyn Bastien (who translated his article into French) felt compelled to add the following open question: “Even if it’s an ‘exercise’, wasn’t it just as easy to engrave a simple prayer, rather than incoherent letters?” This was in response to a theory I once proposed that the ragged nature of the Moustier lettershapes suggested that it might just have been some kind of mason’s practice. And Evelyn’s point is sensible and well-made, because that theory implies a double mysterynot only did someone carve mysterious letters, but also someone else erected those same mysterious letters in their church.

But to be fair, that double mystery is what sits right at the heart of the Moustier enigma: for the challenge to our minds isn’t just that someone made the cryptograms at all, it’s also that a church community then valued them sufficiently to celebrate its own faith right alongside those cryptograms.

In the end, it’s entirely true that all attempts so far to resolve one of this linked pair of durable mysteries have thrown little (or indeed no) light on the other one. But maybe EOS’ readers will prove to have some interesting ideas that have so far evaded us all… here’s hoping!

If Voynichese isn’t meaningless (and good luck to those who believe it is, that’s a fight you’ll have to fight without me), what language(s) is/are its plaintext written in?

Thinking about this recently, what struck me was how unsystematic (and unsatisfactory) most Voynich language presentations are. For example, discussions of Currier A and Currier B (the two major Voynichese language ‘styles’) typically seem to start too far along, by assuming what the relationship between A and B is before they even begin. So… how about we discuss what that relationship is, and what evidence we have?

Big questions about Currier A and Currier B

The specific differences between Currier A and B form a topic I’ve gone over many times, such as in this 2013 post and more recently in this 2019 post. And the idea that somehow the A ‘system’ evolved into/from the B ‘system’ is something that many researchers have discussed, e.g. Tim Rayhel [Glen Claston] had very strong views on this. Similarly, Rene Zandbergen has perhaps worked hardest to establish that there’s more of a technical spectrum between A and B. Rene has also noted that in some ways B seems to be a more verbose version of A: yet at the same time it is abundantly true that the two also behave in sharply different ways.

So I thought it might help to ask the most important questions about A and B in a more systematic way:

  • Did A precede B, or did B precede A?
  • Are A and B encoding/enciphering two different plaintext languages, or a single plaintext language?
  • Do A pages exhibit internal evolution? If so, can we order A pages according to that evolution?
  • Do B pages exhibit internal evolution? If so, can we order B pages according to that evolution?
  • Might the differences between groups of A pages simply be down to their different topics / contents?
  • Might the differences between groups of B pages simply be down to their different topics / contents?
  • Even though Q13 is Currier B, do language differences separate Q13A pages from Q13B pages?
  • Even though Q20 is Currier B, do language differences separate Q20A pages from Q20B pages?
  • If A and B encipher different languages, was the enciphering system designed primarily for A or for B?
  • If A and B encipher a single language, are all the differences just down to scribal choice?
  • In A and B pages, is there any way to tell whether or not the first letter of a line is real or fake?

To try to explore these difficult (yet fundamental) questions, I’ll now look at a couple of specific behaviours that sharply differ between A and B, to see what those differences seem to tell us about these questions.

The two different daiin behaviours

If you pick out a normal-looking A page (say, f21v, which has a small amount of text accompanying a herbal drawing), you’ll see not only lots of “daiin” instances (six on f21v, two of which are a “daiin daiin” adjacent pair), but also odaiin, chodaiin, todaiin, cholchaiin, sheaiin and kchochaiin. These -aiin instances are located all over the page, as you would expect of words in a normal text.

But if you then go to a normal-looking B page (say, f103v, which is far more text-heavy than f21v) we see eight instances of daiin, six of which are on the left-hand edge (and none of which is on the first line of a paragraph).

Personally, I find these two different behaviours (one text-like, the other LAAFU-like) very hard to reconcile with the oft-floated idea that A and B are two sides of a single coin. This B-behaviour seems to imply that “aiin” (which, as Currier pointed out, is a common B word) is being modified with a “d-” line-initial prefix on B pages, thus making “daiin” an even rarer word in B pages than it might at first appear.

Or maybe there’s some other exotic LAAFU explanation I haven’t yet grasped here. (But I don’t think so.)

The two different -ed- behaviours

Rene Zandbergen’s observation that -ed- is rare in A pages (particularly Herbal A pages) but extremely common in B pages is also very hard to square with the idea that A and B are basically the same thing. I’d certainly agree that in early Herbal A pages, the two instances in the Takahashi transcription (f8r and f11r) both seem like scribal errors in the original rather than systematic -ed- examples.

Things get a little more complicated as you look further in to other A pages: f27v, f51r and f52r look like they have genuine -ed- instances (though the one on f56r looks like to me a scribal slip), while f65v has four -ed- instances. The astronomy section (A) has many more -ed- instances, as does the zodiac section (A), though the pharma section (A) is closer to the density of the Herbal A section.

So, if you were to use the ed-density to try to trace out the evolution of the A pages, I suspect you’d probably conclude that the order they were constructed in was: Herbal A, Pharma A, Astro A, Zodiac A. And then you’d probably conclude that the B pages (which have extraordinarily heavy ed-density throughout) were written after the A pages.

Evolution of a system

To my eyes, the changing way that -ed- appears in the A pages suggests that what we are glimpsing here is the evolution of a system, where new features are gradually introduced and diffused into practice. I further believe that this also implies the A pages were constructed before the B pages. Yet the huge step change in -ed- usage between A and B pages suggests to me that something quite different is going on in B pages.

Similarly, the vastly different ways that daiin appears in A and B pages (position-independent in A, position-dependent in B) also suggests to me that something very different is going on in B pages.

So, what is going on in B pages? Though this margin is far too small for me to come to a definitive conclusion, it currently seems to me to be in some way a combination of things. While the system itself definitely seems to have step-changed from A to B (which I think the daiin A/B behaviour argues for), I can’t yet rule out the possibility that this change in system may well have been driven by a change in plaintext language in B pages.

If you know of any Voynichese behaviours that you think help to illuminate, illustrate, or answer any questions on the list above, please leave a comment below, thanks!

Even at the best of times, cipher mysteries are unruly little buggers to work with: never mind being surrounded by a Churchillian “bodyguard of lies”, some seem to have whole brigades of apologists, treasure hunters, theorists, cultural appropriators, postmodernists, alt-historians, Redditors, YouTube opinionators, and the rest. It can often feel as though the bare truth of these artifacts are lost below swirls of (essentially useless) commentary.

Yet more recently, I have been getting the feeling that whole swathes of longstanding cipher mysteries are close to toppling. While nobody should need reminding of the recent marvellous crack of the Zodiac Killer cipher, the forensic analysis of the Somerton Man’s remains that began earlier this year (2021) must surely be getting close to producing real results – and there’s similarly no good reason why DNA shouldn’t also soon solve the mystery of Henri Debosnys’ concealed identity. Behind the scenes, various other famous cipher mysteries also now seem to be moving forward towards their long, slow conclusions (but more on those as they happen).

And so for much of this year, the combination of these two factors – the deafening online commentariat & the impending closure of famous cipher mysteries – has given the whole area a fin-de-siecle vibe. Might, putting the splendidly enraging Voynich Manuscript to one side, my Cipher Mysteries research programme now be close to over?

A New Japanese Cipher Mystery

However, the big news of the week is that I now have two gigantic new cipher mysteries to work on.

The first of these is (to probably nobody’s surprise) the 1947 Roswell Incident, despite the likelihood that many CM readers still have their doubts that this will turn out to have been the kind of cipher mystery I suspect.

Of course, Francis Bacon wrote (and this was a favourite of Tim Rayhel, as I recall):

If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.

In short, the presence of doubt (and please be clear that I have plenty of doubts myself) shouldn’t mean investigative paralysis: even if we have unclear / unsure evidence and unreliable / compromised witnesses, we must continue to make the best judgment calls we can, while still ploughing on forward relentlessly. And it seems that there’s still plenty of ploughing to be done here.

My second new cipher mystery relates to a large and complicated set of documents that was first openly disclosed in Japan only in 2019, and remains very poorly understood. Future blog posts here should make it clear what is going on, but I want to make sure I post good quality images, as well as place those images within their proper historical context.

It’s likely that getting hold of scans (and then annotating them and making them properly available for everyone to see) will take a little bit of time, so I’m very open to collaborating with any Japanese-speaking historians with an interest in code-breaking (even though I studied Japanese at night school many years ago, this is out of my range).

Please email me (nickpelling at nickpelling dot com etc) if you’re interested in contributing, thanks!

If you’re a little late to the party, a “cipher mystery” is a piece of old writing that we unexpectedly can’t make sense of. But the tricky thing is this: as with many historical objects, an early opinion on a cipher mystery given with sufficient gravitas or authority can hugely skew people’s subsequent perception of not only what it is they’re looking at, but also the entire category of thing it is at all.

Viewed through this kind of lens, I want to discuss the idea that the 1947 Roswell Incident was primarily a cipher mystery.

Influential Opinions on Famous Cipher Mysteries

When you look at long-standing (i.e. still unsolved) cipher mysteries, it’s easy to see how early influential opinions have not only steered subsequent research, but also caused many researchers to only consider certain ways of looking at a puzzling artifact.

For the Voynich Manuscript, the story (reported in a 1665 letter) attributing it to Roger Bacon seems to have completely taken over its eponymous owner Wilfrid Voynich’s mind. The notion that Bacon was its author continued to be argued for throughout the 20th century, with a 2005 book (“The Friar and the Cipher”) by Lawrence and Nancy Goldstone being effectively its last hurrah. Yet we have both scientific (radiocarbon dating) and Art History dating evidence (its zodiac roundel illustrations) placing its construction no earlier than 1420, more than a century after Bacon’s death: so whatever ‘the Voynich’ actually is, it’s certainly not Roger Bacon’s baby in any useful sense.

Similarly, the Beale Papers – relating a tangled story about buried treasure – were first brought to public attention via an 1885 pamphlet containing three ciphers (only one of which was solved). Yet it now seems that even though the three Beale Ciphers are likely genuine, the story wrapped around those ciphers was almost entirely spurious. Despite that, it seems that 95% of the Beale research you’ll ever see is to do with the (fake) pamphlet rather than the (probably real) ciphers.

And again, the attribution of a particular pigpen-alphabet cryptogram to the French pirate Olivier “La Buse” Levasseur by the – normally stone cold sober – French maritime historian and archivist Charles de la Ronciere seems to have cemented a perceived link between the two that nobody can split asunder. The key problem is that it requires extraordinary mental gymnastics to construct any kind of mapping between its “two pigeon hearts”-style love-potion recipe plaintext and the Golden Age of Piracy. Yet there seems to be a stream of treasure hunters willing to attempt those contortions, all getting the same inevitably disappointing results.

My point here isn’t so much about cipher theories (please don’t start me on them) but about how early authoritative-sounding opinions on cipher mysteries can sharply narrow the subsequent discourse. I find it hard to see how Wilfrid Voynich’s advocacy of Roger Bacon, the Beale Pamphlet’s made-up frontier history, and de la Ronciere’s footnote-free “Le Flibustier Mysterieux” did anything except get in the way of understanding these three difficult objects.

Of course, in the field of historical research, this is an old story: as a general rule, if you find an area of History dominated by a single framework or founding notion first proposed by a single early voice, it’s often a sign that there’s huge room for modern improvement (if not outright revolution).

But was this also the case for the 1947 Roswell Incident?

Initial Reports: An Alien Alphabet?

Reading through the testimony given (e.g. in Berlitz and Moore’s (1980) “The Roswell Incident”) to do with the initial Roswell incident, there seems little doubt that the “beams” did have some kind of unusual (and unreadable) writing on them. (There’s a big collection of quotations on the subject here.):

  • Maj. Jesse Marcel: “There was all kinds of stuff – small beams about three eighths or a half inch square with some sort of hieroglyphics on them that nobody could decipher. […] It had little numbers with symbols that we had to call hieroglyphics because I could not understand them. They could not be read, they were just like symbols, something that meant something, and they were not all the same, but the same general pattern, I would say. They were pink and purple. They looked like they were painted on.”
  • Jesse Marcel Jr: “Imprinted along the edge of some of the beam remnants there were hieroglyphic-type characters.”
  • Jesse Marcel Jr: “…there were fragments of what appeared to be I-beams. On the inner surface of the I-beam, there appeared to be a type of writing. This writing was a purple-violet hue, and it had an embossed appearance. The figures were composed of curved geometric shapes. It had no resemblance to Russian, Japanese or any other foreign language. It resembled hieroglyphics, but it had no animal-like characters.”
  • Jesse Marcel Jr: “I do recall one symbol for sure that was on the beam and that was like a truncated pyramid with a ball on top of it. It was the only symbol I can know for sure was on this beam. The rest of it, you know, was just various geometric designs.”
  • Mac Brazel’s son: “But Dad did say one time that there were what he called “figures” on some of the pieces he found. He often referred to the petroglyphs the ancient Indians drew on rocks around here as “figures” too, and I think that’s what he meant to compare them with.”
  • Floyd Proctor: “He said whatever the junk was, it had designs on it that reminded him of Chinese and Japanese designs. […] He said the designs looked like the kind of stuff you would find on firecracker wrappers… some sort of figures all done up in pastels, but not writing like we would do it.”
  • Mac Brazel’s elder sister, Lorraine Ferguson: “Whatever he found it was all in pieces and some of it had some kind of unusual writing on it – Mac said it was like the kind of stuff you find all over Japanese or Chinese firecrackers; not really writing, just wiggles and such. Of course, he couldn’t read it and neither could anybody else as far as I ever heard.”
  • Mac Brazel’s daughter, Bessie Brazel Schreiber: “Some of these pieces had something like numbers and lettering on them, but there were no words that we were able to make out. […] It looked like numbers mostly, at least I assumed them to be numbers. They were written out like you would write numbers in columns to do an addition problem. But they didn’t look like the numbers we use at all. What gave me the idea they were numbers, I guess, was the way they were all ranged out in columns.”
  • Walt Whitmore, Jr.: “Some of this material had a sort of writing on it which looked like numbers that had been either added or multiplied.”
  • Lt. Jack Trowbridge: “It was aluminum in appearance.  There were fragments of aircraft skin, or whatever the thing was, and also some girders with pictures of hieroglyphic-like things on it.  I took them to be owls (?), but who knows?
  • 1st Lt. Robert Shirkey: “I could see the hieroglyphs clearly, the signs were in relief and stood out.” […] “…sticking up in one corner of the box carried by Major Marcel was a small ‘I-beam’ with hieroglyphic-like markings on the inner flange, in some kind of weird color, not black, not purple, but a close approximation of the two.”

If you put all the above reports together, there seems little doubt that beams with columns of a pastelly-weathered-pink-lavender-purple alien-looking alphabet was one of the key features of the debris found specifically at Roswell.

My point here is that had a load of odd debris without any writing on been found, I don’t think that the whole thing would have been treated as a (capital-I) “Incident“. That is, I think the mysterious ‘alien’ writing was the key feature that turned this from an unknown military-looking device crashing into scrubland outside Roswell into something that was much more intriguing.

And this is why I think the Roswell Incident can sensibly be looked at – when you look at the initial reports – as a cipher mystery.

Note that this isn’t to downplay the (separate) testimony to do with flexible, superstrong metal sheets etc found at the same time. Rather, it’s to point out that from the point of view of what Mac Brazel found at Roswell, what set it apart from other similar events was the mysterious writing on the beam fragments.

Irving Newton on Jesse Marcel

Warrant Officer Irving Newton’s testimony changed over the years in regard to Major Jesse Marcel’s behaviour at the time.

  • 1979: “I was later told that the major from Roswell had identified the stuff as a flying saucer, but that the general [Ramey] had been suspicious of this identification from the beginning…”
  • 1994: “…while I was examining the debris, Major Marcel was picking up pieces of the target sticks and trying to convince me that some notations on the sticks were alien writings. There were figures on the sticks, lavender or pink in color, appeared to be weather faded markings, with no rhyme or reason (sic). He did not convince me that these were alien writings.”
  • 1995: “I remember Marcel chased me all around that room. He kept saying thinks like, ‘Look at how tough the metal is,’ ‘Look at the strange markings on it.’ He wouldn’t have made such a big effort to convince me the thing was extraterrestrial if he thought we were looking at a weather balloon.”
  • 1997: “While we were in the office, he kept following me around with those sticks, those sticks had some hieroglyphic-looking things on there. He said ‘Have you ever see this?’ Well, I had never seen that, I had never seen that on any target that I had seen before; but it was on there. But this strongly indicated to me that he was trying to convince me that he had picked up this flying disc and this was an alien source and that I hadn’t seen that; but all the rest I had seen.”

Regardless, I think it is fairly certain that the first person to consider that the writing found on the beams might be an alien-like alphabet was Major Jesse Marcel (or perhaps his wife Viaud, as per the account in Linda Corley’s book). Though to be fair to Marcel, he seems to have formed his opinion based not only on the strangeness of the writing, but also on the physical strangeness of the materials recovered at the Roswell site.

All the same, it seems that we can trace the idea that Roswell may well have been an alien “Incident” right back to Jesse Marcel’s initial response. Had he not formed that hypothesis and discussed it, would Roswell have been a “thing” at all?

(Again, I’m talking specifically about Roswell here, and not about the claims of a crashed flying saucer at Corona etc.)

Images of the Roswell Writing

Probably the best known image is the one mocked up for the Roswell UFO Museum, based (as I understand it) on a drawing made by Jesse Marcel Jr:

Another one (this time drawn and signed by Major Jesse Marcel) appears on p.42 of Linda Corley’s book “For the Sake of my Country”, where the strokes appear more like this (note that this doesn’t seem to be on the Internet):

/ \ / - ( )

If there are other images of the Roswell Writing out there, I haven’t been able to find them. Please let me know if you stumble upon any others!

Efforts to Decrypt the Roswell Writing

Had this been where the record stopped, we would have very little to go on. The suggestion that the whole Roswell Incident was no more than a downed Project Mogul balloon (designed to listen for Russian atomic bomb tests) that perhaps got hit by lightning in a huge storm is plausible, though still somewhat icky.

If the military knew that what was collected from the debris field was solely fragments from a Project Mogul balloon, this whole line of investigation would surely have stopped dead here. Yet, in Linda Corley’s interview with Jesse Marcel, he said: “They tried to decipher that stuff. But as far as I know, they never did.”

So this is where things start to get murky, because there are other – though admittedly not many – testimonies relating to what the US Military subsequently did to try to decrypt the Roswell writing.

  • Brigadier General Steven Lovekin (talking about a meeting in 1959): “Colonel Hollobard [perhaps Hollogard or Holabird?] brought out a piece of what appeared to be metallic — it was a metallic piece of — it looked like a yardstick. It had deciphering–it had encryption on it. He did describe them as being symbols of instruction. And that’s as far as he would go. But he did infer that the instructions, whatever they might have been, were something that was important enough for the military to keep working on [on] a constant basis.”
  • “It seemed giant-like when I saw it because it was the first time I had ever seen anything like this before. And all eyes were just peeled on that particular thing. And when he told us what it was, it was frightening, it was eery there. You could have heard a pin drop in the room when it was first mentioned.”
  • “He said it had been taken from one of the craft that had crashed in New Mexico. It had been taken from a box of materials that the military was working on. They didn’t use the word reverse engineering at that time, but it was something similar to the reverse engineering they felt like they needed to work on and that it was going to take years to this.”
  • Steve Lytle: “Not all the analysis was done by men assigned to Wright Field. Some of the analysis was made by scientists outside the base.” [Steve Lytle reported that his father, during his long career, had worked with Robert Oppenheimer on a number of occasions and projects. Lytle’s father was a mathematician and, according to Lytle, had been given one of the I-beams recovered at the Roswell site, with an eye to deciphering the symbols.]

But that’s the end of it. As far as I know, what I present here is as much as the (probably) tens of thousands of books on UFOs out there have on decrypting the Roswell Writing. If there’s more… I’m all ears.

What’s Missing From This Picture?

Apart from Jesse Marcel himself (“They tried to decipher that stuff“), we only appear to have two sources that talk about actually trying to decrypt the Roswell Writing, and no report (fleeting or otherwise) whatsoever. (As I understand it, all the copies of the report on 1948 Project Sign were destroyed.)

But if what these two sources say is even partially true, the Roswell Writing must have had some kind of military designation attached to it. So what was its codeword? And in which ‘Indiana Jones warehouse’ are all the collected beams stored?

All the same, what is so scary about the evidence that not one photographic image of this writing has seen the light of day in more than seventy years?

Personally, I have no interest in stories about crashed flying saucers and X-Files-style “grays”, etc – basically, there’s no shortage of people out there who “want to believe”, and I have no desire to be added to that list.

But as for a 1947 cipher mystery that seems in some way to have spawned the whole modern UFO era, count me in on that, 100%. I want to see the primary evidence, and I want to see it now!

Though not remotely a Ufologist myself, I’ve just watched “Roswell: First Witness” on the Blaze Freeview channel (top tip: record these and 32x fast forward through the loooong ad breaks and the almost-as-long recaps, otherwise it’ll take you all day), which threw up a couple of interesting cipher-related tidbits I thought I’d share with you.

1. Jesse A. Marcel’s Alien Alphabet

Though Jesse Marcel was neither the first to reach the Roswell debris site in July 1947 (that was actually W.W. “Mac” Brazel) nor the second (that was probably Timothy D. Proctor), he was certainly one of the first five witnesses. But I can quite see how “Roswell: Fourth Witness” probably didn’t have the required punch.

In the programme, one woman (Linda Corley) brought out a piece of paper apparently signed by Marcel, which she said Marcel had drawn to depict the alien lettering he had seen on a piece of wood-like (but not actually wood) beam-like debris. The signs reportedly resembled a series of simple curves and strokes:

( ) – / \

She then went away and looked these up, finding as a match our old friends Tironian notes. (Romans in Space! Am I the only person who remembers “The Tomorrow People: A Rift In Time” (1974) episode? Probably.) At which point Marcel allegedly span round 180 degrees and strongly asked her never to mention the lettering again etc.

To be fair, I’d say these simple curves and slashes resemble a minimalist tachygraphic alphabet, i.e. an alphabet pared down for speed and clarity rather than for expressiveness. Which is quite interesting in itself, though without necessarily being Tironian.

My question here is this: are there any UFO books out there that claim to give more examples of writing or markings in this same alphabet? I’ve never seen this mentioned anywhere else, but given that my personal library contains not even a single book on UFOs, that’s perhaps not hugely surprising.

2. Jesse A. Marcel’s Journal / Diary / Memorandum Book

Arguably the central focus of the TV programme is a notebook owned by Marcel’s descendants. Though this is mostly full of normal cursive writing, at one point in mid-1947 this halts and gets replaced by lots of curious mixed-case block-letter quotations (many now dated and sexist, *sigh*). Here are a couple screen-grabbed from the programme:

The question then arose as to whether these might have been using some kind of Baconian biliteral cipher. To try to answer this, the film-makers gave scans of the diary to Professor Craig Bauer, a mathematician who Cipher Mysteries readers will hopefully remember for his “Unsolved” (a chunky recent book on unsolved historical ciphers, with a particular authorial focus on Americana) rather than for the somewhat lame (and now totally disproven) speculations he contributed to a high(ish)-profile TV documentary series on the Zodiac Killer Ciphers.

Bauer (and presumably grad student Jack Anderson) then went away and wrote biliteral cipher decryption code to try to work out what was going on. The kinds of Baconian letter-form pairs they found looked like this:

Unfortunately their decryption attempts didn’t come up with anything worthwhile, i.e. their results were inconclusive.

However, from my own unsolved historical cipher perspective, it seems to me that Bauer et al. properly failed to test the statistical validity of their hypothesis before launching into writing code to exhaustively search the biliteral space. In other words, they didn’t look before they leaped. For example, if the ratio of each biliteral A:B letter-pair is 4:1 or worse, and moreover many of the capital forms appear word-initial (as you’d expect), something has probably already gone badly wrong with your assumptions before you even started.

In my experience, hand ciphers are primarily not about mathematics but about steganography – distracting the eye so the core of the actual cipher trundles past unnoticed. Hence you need to be sure you have cracked a cipher’s steganographic wrapper properly before you start writing any code, and I’m not sure that this preliminary sanity-checking stage happened here to the degree it should have.

Even so, though I’d be extraordinarily surprised if these quotations were concealing a message written in biliteral cipher, that’s not at all to say that they might not be concealing a message in a quite different way.

Has anyone got scans of the “Memorandum” book? I wouldn’t mind casting an independent eye on this section, see if there’s anything there to be found.

A month ago, I exchanged a series of emails with a nice – though somewhat retiring – correspondent, who suggested that I might consider whether the Somerton Man was in fact Charles Gazzam Hurd. Here’s Hurd and his son (Charles Gazzam Hurd Jr):

The Disappeared

The last we know of Hurd’s life (from The Doe Network) is as follows:

  • On 18th Feb 1937, Hurd left his workplace at 15 William Street, Manhattan (he was a manager of a real estate and mortgage department) at a normal time
  • He had dinner at a restaurant / night club on East 54th Street
  • He cashed a small cheque and left
  • He crashed his Ford convertible coupe “into a pillar of an elevated railway structure at 3rd Avenue and 37th Street”
  • He (apparently) suffered only minor injuries, drove off but then disappeared forever

At the time this happened, he was separated from his (wealthy) wife Marie Louise Schrieber, and was living at the Kenmore Hall Hotel on 23rd Street and Lexington Avenue. She remarried within a year of Hurd’s death.

His son Charles Gazzam Hurd Jr (born 1930, died 2015) seems to have been a thoroughly lovely bloke: “one time he orchestrated an epic Halloween prank involving a séance, the ghost of Benedict Arnold, and a couple of hydrocarbon fireballs that sent several 11-year-old girls into hysterics; an event that surely would have sparked an outcry on social media today.” Rock’n’roll!

Also: Hurd’s granddaughter Amy Hurd Fetchko has been doing a lot of her own digging, and there’s a nice podcast interview with her that covers much of what she has found, triggered by her father writing his memoirs. Did CGH Jr – as he believed he remembered – watch Tarzan with his father four months after his father’s death? Or had his father committed suicide in despair (as part of her family believes)? All very mysterious.

The Theories

It’s not widely known that there’s an (actually fairly sizeable) Internet community of people who try to identify John & Jane Does, often by connecting the few facts associated with a given person (height, build, hair colour, clothing, age) with those of other individuals who have disappeared. Indeed, a few of the more successful instances have ‘broken out’ into mass media (articles, books, TV, and probably even films).

On Reddit’s r/UnresolvedMysteries, plenty of people weigh in (a) that Hurd was probably a drunk driver, and (b) given that the East River was a mere three blocks away from where he was last, therefore (c) the most likely place you’ll find both him and his car (which disappeared at the same time) is the bottom of the river. Drunk driving, depression, head injury, concussion, impulsive suicide… all these are possible and in play (not at all unreasonably, it has to be said). (Websleuths don’t hugely disagree with this.)

Amy Hurd Fetchko also suggests that her grandfather – who she says was definitely a gambler – might possibly have got into money trouble with the Mob, and as a result either got killed or just changed his name and started afresh somewhere else. (She wonders whether the restaurant / night club where he had eaten might have been a Mob joint, etc.)

Alternatively, you won’t have far to look in the broader group of (what one might call) ‘The Disappeared‘ to find middle-aged men who dropped out of their life to start a new life with a second (often bigamous) wife. So it’s not entirely surprising to find that a number of amateur investigators have proposed that Hurd might have – by some random path – have ended up dead on Somerton Beach on 1948, i.e. that he might have started afresh in Australia but ended up as the Somerton Man.

A good source on this theory is a set of (nine) pages on Unexplained Mysteries. As you’d expect, it all pivots on ear shapes and so on. But… all the same, it just feels wrong to me. Dredge the East River, save us all the hassle, OK?

(Now The Real Post Begins)

OK, even though I’ve assembled all the information on Charles Gazzam Hurd in one place above, the stuff that actually interests me here isn’t Hurd himself, but rather the swirl of stuff around ‘The Disappeared’. For me, a much better question would be about why so many people are interested in identifying John / Jane Does.

Is this about closure, doing good, being helpful, connecting to (often long dead) people in a disconnected modern world? Is it about becoming interested in something, and then repeatedly scratching some kind of previously-unnoticed research itch that never quite scabs over? Is it about just finding an online community that you can settle into, safe in the knowledge that there really aren’t any terribly bad theories? Or is it about being nosy, opinionated, mouthing off, bickering, forum fighting, disagreeing, and occasionally trolling relatives and descendants?

Or some wobbly mix of all four?

Regardless, one thing that unites almost all of these cold cases is that there is very rarely any money to be made. Unlike the Zodiac Killer (where just about everybody involved seems to have written one or more awful books, along with a fair few of the fake letters trolling the police in the 1970s), there’s no huge glory to be had in identifying nameless victims. So in many ways, ‘Doe-hunting’ is – on the face of it – a fairly harmless pursuit.

For those who try to do this in a sensible way – i.e. by going to archives and primary sources where possible, and taking a resolutely evidence-centred approach – there’s nothing much you could say is wrong with what they’re doing. What happened happened, and nothing you can do now can unhappen it, right? It’s just trying to help, right?

Sort of, yes: but also sort of no. While it’s certainly nice to help identify people who have died mysteriously without a trace, people have no alienable Human Right to be Identified in the Unlikely Event of Their Mysterious Death. And given that these searches tend to be very long-term, they consume a lot of the searcher’s life, often yielding little or nothing of significant value in return. So, putting all the “The Journey is the Destination” blather to one side, there is a personal cost to the living to be considered here: the John / Jane Doe themselves have nothing much to benefit either – after all, it’s a bit late for closure for them.

And before you channel your inner Moe and say “Think of the family! Think of the family!“: in many, many cases the family simply have no idea at all. Someone just lost touch, and for countless years they stayed lost… until the Online Cold Case Enthusiasts gleefully poked their Internet noses in, typically offering a decades-later hallucinogenic mix of sort-of-hope and victim details gleaned from scratchy old police reports.

In my opinion, the real reason people get involved tends to be something quite different: typically (I suspect) more to do with finding kinship in an online community than with an overdeveloped sense of morality or desire for natural justice. Finding Charles Gazzam Hurd’s family tree more interesting than your own family tree is all very well, but a dispassionate observer probably couldn’t help but wonder whether this does sort of hint at an awkward modern dissociation from your own basic reality, hmmm?

Blame Davina & Co? Why not!

This is also a pastime that familial DNA is rapidly transforming, making it just about as redundant as redundant can be. Why trawl through thousands of pages of scrawly old archives for years (or even decades) for a half-glimpse at something that may or may not be connected, when GEDmatch can move you closer to a rock solid answer inside a day?

Maybe it’s wrong to blame Davina and her TV buddies for making this so gosh-darn visible. All the same, it’s hard not to look at both the serried ranks of DNA-themed documentaries – national treasures (Piss-)Ant & Dec, dahlin’ Stacey Dooley, Bloodline Detectives, etc etc – and the rise in interest in DNA police cold-casery and see some kind of correlation there, right?

And as more and more people upload their DNA to databases, there seems little doubt in my mind not only that database results will become more and supportive, but also that the ever-improving familial-searching tools wrapped around them will automate more and more of the research processes involved.

At the same time, my understanding is that we’re simultaneously about to be hit by a rapid influx of AI-powered tools able to read old handwritten documents. Hence it seems highly likely to me that it won’t be too long before we see companies making this accessible at scale, where their “Google for genealogy”-style offerings pull together and automate a lot of the genealogical grunt work. (And let’s face it, most online family trees you’re likely to see are full of over-optimistic junk unsupported by any genuine evidence. So there’s a great deal to improve on here.)

So, even though we’re just about at the point where a load of researchers are getting actually quite good at genealogy and cold case research, we might also be at the start of a period where all that stuff becomes heavily automated and commoditised. And what then of online cold case forums? Computer says yes, computer says no: but either way, the computer says it.

Looking ahead, then, I expect DNA tools will obliterate not just individual cold cases but in time also the whole idea of cold cases. Similarly, I expect AI will obliterate genealogy (and why on earth haven’t LDS tried this, you’d have thought they’d be at the front of the queue?). I give it 10-15 years before they’re both as passé as wax cylinder recordings.

What Then of Cipher Mysteries?

So what then about the Somerton Man, and the Adirondack Enigma, and so forth? Yes, where cipher mysteries form just one strand of any cold case that is more of a WhoWasIt than a WhoDunnIt, I indeed think it’s a pretty safe bet that the plucky DNA genealogists will (eventually) get on board and figure out the person’s real identity.

In the case of the Zodiac Killer, police cold case teams (and the swarm of TV documentary teams kissing their poh-lice butts) must now surely be slowly grinding their way through the mass of Zodiac envelopes, stamps and other evidential gubbins looking for DNA hits. At the very least, you’d have thought – as I’m told happened not so long ago with the Cheri Jo Bates cold case – they’d have figured out which nutters sent taunting letters to the LAPD (hint: most of these probably weren’t sent by Zodiac). To be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if 75% of those were actually sent by idiot Zodiacologists, but that’s perhaps going to be an unpopular opinion for a while yet.

However, the one thing that we’re still a loooong way from is using technology to crack top-end cipher mysteries. For example, while Hauer and Kondrak’s 2021 paper (on the Dorabella Cipher) accepted that Keith Massey’s observations were extremely strong, the authors still just waltzed past them regardless, despite their obvious inconsistency with, say, everything that they had hypothesized, written, and concluded. All of which made what would have otherwise been a basically good paper end up a bit too ‘baity’ for my taste.

So there you have the actual start of the art: known-system ciphers we can now crack in no time, but cipher mysteries? There’s no sea turtle that can hold its breath long enough for cipher mysteries to reveal their secrets. But in the end, perhaps that’s a good thing, right? 😉