Taking The Metric Fifth

By The Metric Maven

Bulldog Edition

Last year I attended a post-Thanksgiving social function. One of the hosts was busy in the kitchen creating some manner of confection with bourbon in it.  I was suddenly sought out as the resident measurement person and this conversation occurred:

Host: “How much is a fifth of whiskey?”

MM: “There is no such thing anymore, it’s 750 mL. I believe it used to be one-fifth of a gallon.”

The Host clearly saw my answer as completely unsatisfactory, apparently very difficult to believe, and asked to borrow a smart-phone so he could look on the internet. After some conversation with others and my directly asking, he indicated I was right. It just seemed like too much liquor to put into the recipe.

The fifth is a surprisingly strange volume—even for US Ye Olde English Units. The fifth was equal to 1/5 of a US gallon which is equal to 4/5 of a quart which is also equal to 25 3/5 fluid ounces which is 757 mL.

Whenever my friend Lapin is confronted with something he said in the past which after some reflection appears incoherent, he generally states: “I don’t know, I must have been drunk at the time.” The spirits industry apparently wasn’t when they chose the fifth. According to Amy Richards Krumich, who for a short time wrote a metric blog called Penny Wise and Pound Foolish, the origin of The Fifth is thus:

That size [750 mL] was chosen [by Europe and the US] because it contained approximately the same volume as the “American Fifth” (a fifth of a gallon) whether it was wine or hard spirits. The fifth had been invented by the spirits industry many years before to avoid being taxed, since taxes were assessed for quarts or larger volumes of wine or spirits.

So the quantity was invented to avoid liquor taxes? That seems likely.

One of the strangest occurrences in the 1970s, was that one industry apparently didn’t get the memo that the metric system in the US is very, very, very voluntary. It was the hard liquor and wine industry. This is an amazing singularity, and is offered constantly as an example that we are “going metric soon” because the alcohol manufacturers have done so. Unfortunately US metrication is always a Friedman Unit away, but well-meaning metric enthusiasts cite it as evidence of current change. In his 2004 book The United States of Europe T.R. Reid states on page 5:

Because the united Europe is the world’s largest trade market, it is the “Eurocrats” in Brussels, more and more, who make the business regulations that that govern global industry. There’s a reason why the quintessential American whiskey, Kentucky bourbon is sold today in 75 cl bottles. It’s not because American consumers suddenly demanded to sip their sour mash by the centiliter

Later on page 233:

No matter how efficient and and logical metrics might be, we still prefer our inches and feet, ounces and pounds, yards and miles. But American food and drink labels today are going metric. You can’t buy a “fifth” (that is, a fifth of a gallon) of American Whiskey anymore; all liquors are sold by the centiliter today, because that’s how the European market demands it. Instead of a “fifth” the standard bottle now is 70 or 75 centiliters, which turns out to be a few sips short of a fifth of a gallon. It is because of the European regulatory influence that Americans routinely buy 2-liter bottles of Coca-Cola….”

T.R. Reid like other US citizens knows about as much about the metric system as most Americans do about cricket. Centiliters! Seriously? Milliliters are what are used in enlightened metric countries—like Australia. The Eurocrats in Brussels forced the US into metric booze?–and two liter bottles of soda?

Here is what Wikipedia states about the “Metric Fifth”:

During the 1970s, there was a push for metrication of U.S. government standards. In 1975, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, in cooperation with the Distilled Spirits Council of the United States, proposed six metric-standard bottle sizes to take effect in January 1979 and these standards were incorporated into Title 27 of the Code of Federal Regulations.[7][8] These sizes are 50, 100, 200, 375 (355 for cans), 500 (until June 1989), 750, 1000, and 1750 mL.

The mystery is that this change occurred at all. The actual change for liquor occurred in 1979, at the height of the “US faux-metric-conversion.” It is my understanding that the European Union was founded in 1993. So Brussels “forced” 750 mL bottles of Whiskey on the US approximately 14 years before the EU was founded? The two-liter bottle was introduced by Pepsi in 1970—and seemingly has zero to do with any proclamations from Brussels at the end of the 1960s—unless those are some supernaturally powerful Eurocrats!

In recent years I’ve been pleased to see bottles of soda which are 500 mL and 1 liter, but I’ve also seen pints, quarts and numerous variations of Ye Olde English proliferate with them. It seems very likely this mixture of odd sizes is somehow used to “profit from the yardstick.” If they were all in metric, and in milliliters, there would be no wiggle room. You would see the difference between a 300, 350 and 355 mL can of anything immediately and easily compute the price per mL. Market Darwinism embraces the proliferation of measurement units, as it has throughout history.

There are many aphorisms about the metric system in the US that I believe cause complacency. One statement is “We’re over 50% metric in the US.” I’ve never been able to trace down any reference, or any study upon which this assertion could “hold water.” The fact that booze is sold in metric, and that we have two-liter bottles is also offered as contemporary evidence of change—every decade since the change occurred. This is change which actually occurred over 35 years ago for liquor and 44 years ago for two-liter bottles. It’s time to face up to the fact that metric usage in the US is stagnant, and waiting for metrication to magically happen without government intervention is a fools errand. Asserting stagnation is actually alteration only causes procrastination. Waiting doesn’t produce change, nor does quaffing a metric drink of alcohol move us one millimeter closer to a metric US. A person who asserts otherwise?—-“must have been drunk at the time.”

Related essay:

The Singular Beverage Experience


If you liked this essay and wish to support the work of The Metric Maven, please visit his Patreon Page and contribute. Also purchase his books about the metric system:

The first book is titled: Our Crumbling Invisible Infrastructure. It is a succinct set of essays  that explain why the absence of the metric system in the US is detrimental to our personal heath and our economy. These essays are separately available for free on my website,  but the book has them all in one place in print. The book may be purchased from Amazon here.


The second book is titled The Dimensions of the Cosmos. It takes the metric prefixes from yotta to Yocto and uses each metric prefix to describe a metric world. The book has a considerable number of color images to compliment the prose. It has been receiving good reviews. I think would be a great reference for US science teachers. It has a considerable number of scientific factoids and anecdotes that I believe would be of considerable educational use. It is available from Amazon here.


The third book is called Death By A Thousand Cuts, A Secret History of the Metric System in The United States. This monograph explains how we have been unable to legally deal with weights and measures in the United States from George Washington, to our current day. This book is also available on Amazon here.

Eponymous Measurement Units and Planet George

— NASA

By The Metric Maven

The first planet discovered using a telescope was Uranus. There have been many sophomoric jokes made at the expense of this planet’s name—but I would never argue that its name be changed.  The name Uranus was not in fact, the original name proposed for this celestial body. Its discoverer, William Herschel (1738-1822), named it George. The official Latin euphemism for this title was Georgium Sidus, or George’s Star for King George III. This might strike a contemporary person as the scientific equivalent of A Boy Named Sue.  A planet named after a person?—that’s all messed up. The names had been chosen, up to that point, in a manner which eschewed modern, or even real persons, by using the names of classical gods. George is immediately seen as not comporting with this nomenclature.

What strikes me is that the metric system also began this way by using names which were as decanted from humans as possible. The meter, the liter, the gram, and such were all words designed to be as neutral as possible. This began to fork when derived units appeared. Both the cgs and mks systems began to use the names of famous scientists for the names of derived units, but not always. The cgs system used erg (which derives from a Greek word meaning “work”). I like the name erg, it is derived from a word descriptive of what it is trying to represent, while SI adopted the name joule after the English physicist James Prescott Joule (1818-1889) who did pioneering work on energy.

In my view, naming a measurement unit after a person opened a Pandora’s box, much like allowing a newly discovered planet to be named George would have been in astronomy. Eponymous measurement units interjected a potential political, nationalistic and geocentric aspect to the metric system which in my view has not served it well. Clearly, the choices could easily become (and in my view have been) scientific popularity contests, where the idea of measurement unit names, which compactly describe units, was abandoned. In its place was the idea of further “honoring” persons, who are already immortalized in the history of engineering and science, by using the names of measurement units. This choice would immediately lead to political pressure, which could indirectly lead to unit proliferation. After all, we would want to include everyone—right? It becomes Celsius vs Fahrenheit vs Kelvin and the question of who “objectively” did more to further that unit’s development (or should it be the first who did work on it?).  Is it Gauss (cgs) or Tesla (SI)? that contributed the most to (electro)magnetism—I will keep to myself which of these two clearly did more in my view. I will however comment that people who appear of paramount importance to their contemporary history, when judged years later are sometimes no longer seen as towering, or even very important, when closely examined in hindsight. It would be best not to create eponymous measurement units in the first place.

One person I have in mind which exemplifies this is William Henry Preece (1834-1913). Preece rose through the ranks of industry with very little education, and had almost no theoretical insight into the nature of electricity. He saw electricity as similar to water flowing through a pipe. He would never master AC circuit theory, let alone have any understanding of Maxwell’s equations. Even when it was clear that his view of electricity was wrong, he steadfastly refused to budge. He dismissed theory with disdain. He also had all the political connections to make him a formidable adversary—independent of his meager knowledge.[1]

Preece reviled Oliver Heaviside (1850-1925) who was an amazing autodidact. Heaviside would recast Maxwell’s equations into the vector form which is used by engineers and scientists to this day. Heaviside coined the terms inductance, and impedance, admittance and conductance, permeability and reluctance. These are all used in modern electrical engineering. He invented transmission line theory. Despite Heaviside’s towering contributions to electrical engineering, it was Preece who had a unit named for him. A preece is 1013 ohm-meters. I’ve never actually seen this unit used, but he managed to get one named for him non-the-less. It is a perfect example of why measurement units should not be named after people.

Another issue is that a choice of words with the least number of syllables would probably be of utility. Why is it ok to take the name Volta and reduce it to volt, but not take Ampere and change it to amp?  (A professor once chastised a student in a class for this by asking if he worked at a garage?—the unit is an ampere!). Why doesn’t George Westinghouse get his own electrical unit?—too many syllables?

Recently I viewed a clip from a British game show which asked a panel “what is the metric unit for weight.” There was much fumbling, and the presenter had to finally tell them it was a newton. Get it?—Isaac Newton is English—and the British contestants didn’t know the measurement unit for weight was named after the great English scientist. That a measurement unit is coupled with a nationality is almost anthropomorphizing it. Until 1948 temperature could be centigrade, after that it became the eponymous Celsius. In another essay I point out I would have it reintroduced as milligrade. Taking the name of a measurement unit, which has some manner of neutrality, and then re-naming it after Celsius is a disservice to metrology, engineering and science.

One metric measurement unit name that appears to suffer from its lack of a descriptive name is the pascal. When a person in the US hears PSI its immediately translated to pounds per square inch. Every American thinks they know what that means. The very name seems to explain itself. 1000 PSI—wow!—that’s a lot! One PSI—not so much. Because we have not embraced the metric system, and better educated ourselves, most Americans think a kilogram is a force, and a pound could be a mass.  So if you tell them something has a pressure of 6895 Pascals—wow!—that sounds big!—but it’s 1 PSI or 6.895 kilopascals. A US citizen would be confused as as to where the kilograms had gone and how they had become kilopascals. When I recently explained to a technician working on pressure lines, which he was connecting to a “foreign” machine, that a pascal is a newton per square meter—there was an immediate recognition on his face. Should the pascal ever have been defined? Perhaps it could have been left as newtons/square meter?—NSM?  In the cgs system there is the gal for a unit of acceleration, but in SI it’s meters/second squared. The gal is said to be short for galileo, but should it ever have been named and defined? People can envision what a meter per second per second might be, and hiding it inside of an eponym disperses clarity. In the case of a unit like a volt, its base units are: m2·kg·s-3·A-1 which I believe very, very few people can visualize, and a name of some type makes sense. It’s too bad it’s an eponym.

There are frivolous units like the barn, which should long ago have been abandoned, but like the continued use of cgs in the US, people who are used to our polytheistic units see no problem just adding more ways to redundantly describe the world. (FYI cgs and SI are incompatible systems)

In 19th century attacks on the metric system, one will often see the complaint that the units have too many syllables. Most of the examples are cherry-picked, but I believe it should have been a consideration in naming metric units. In cgs the force unit is a dyne (single syllable) and in SI it is a newton (two-syllables). The descriptions should be as simple as possible and no simpler. The names of measurement units should not be based on “honoring” already celebrated scientists, nor uncelebrated ones. The angstrom is a good example of an eponymous unit which only kludges up the metric system and makes it less straightforward. Thankfully nanometers are commonly used these days to describe wavelengths of light. But will those who are from Sweden feel slighted?—and continue to use it in a patriotic protest?  Nanometer tells you directly in words what the value of the unit magnitude is in relation to its base, the Angstrom does not. It should have never been coined for a scientific unit.

I expect the probability is small that the metric unit naming issues I’ve related will ever be addressed by international standards committees. In fact it is likely far, far more remote than that of the US becoming a metric nation like Australia. But that does not mean I will not write about it, and implore that this not be done in the future. Spacecraft will continue to be launched. Continue to use spacecraft names to honor scientists—not measurement units. The first rule of getting out of holes is that when you’re stuck in one, you should first stop digging. Add no more eponymous units.

[1] Oliver Heaviside: Sage in Solitude Paul J. Nahin, IEEE Press 1988


If you liked this essay and wish to support the work of The Metric Maven, please visit his Patreon Page and contribute. Also purchase his books about the metric system:

The first book is titled: Our Crumbling Invisible Infrastructure. It is a succinct set of essays  that explain why the absence of the metric system in the US is detrimental to our personal heath and our economy. These essays are separately available for free on my website,  but the book has them all in one place in print. The book may be purchased from Amazon here.


The second book is titled The Dimensions of the Cosmos. It takes the metric prefixes from yotta to Yocto and uses each metric prefix to describe a metric world. The book has a considerable number of color images to compliment the prose. It has been receiving good reviews. I think would be a great reference for US science teachers. It has a considerable number of scientific factoids and anecdotes that I believe would be of considerable educational use. It is available from Amazon here.


The third book is called Death By A Thousand Cuts, A Secret History of the Metric System in The United States. This monograph explains how we have been unable to legally deal with weights and measures in the United States from George Washington, to our current day. This book is also available on Amazon here.