History is littered with famous power nappers, with Aristotle, Einstein and Winston Churchill all having embraced daytime snoozes of varying duration, while Homer’s Odyssey references polyphasic sleeping in separate chunks.
During the second world war, Churchill would nap for at least an hour in the early afternoon, writing in his war memoirs: “Nature had not intended mankind to work from eight in the morning until midnight without the refreshment of blessed oblivion which, even if it only lasts 20 minutes, is sufficient to renew all the vital forces.”
Salvador Dalí, in his 50 Secrets of Magic Craftsmanship for aspiring painters, outlined tips for the one-second micro-nap, including sitting upright, key in hand and upturned plate beneath. Once asleep, the key will drop and the ensuing clang ensures instant revival. Albert Einstein deployed a similar technique, using a spoon or pencil instead of a key.
Aristotle also extolled the virtues of this hypnagogic napping – the semi-lucid state between sleep and wake – for inspiration, declaring: “For often, when one is asleep, there is something in consciousness which declares that what then presents itself is but a dream.”
Leonardo da Vinci, who functioned on two hours of sleep a day while painting the Mona Lisa, followed a form of polyphasic sleep schedule called the Uberman sleep cycle, which involves 20-minute naps every four hours.
John F Kennedy took a daily post-lunch nap with his wife, Jackie, with doors closed, phone calls barred and no paperwork delivered. His head of household staff, JB West, recounted: “Nobody went upstairs, for any reason.”
Bill Clinton, who appeared to nod off during Joe Biden’s first presidential address, once said: “On the days when I’m a little short of sleep, I try to work it out so that I can sneak off and just lie down for 15 minutes, a half an hour, and it really makes all the difference in the world.”
Ronald Reagan, however, seemed ashamed of his habit, with his wife, Nancy, denying rumours of his daily naps, afraid he would be branded lazy.
Margaret Thatcher, who got by on four hours’ sleep a night, was not immune to the lure of the catnap, with National Archives documents suggesting she indulged in the back of her official car. Officials were so concerned she could suffer an injury if her Daimler was forced to brake while she nodded off that they arranged for a custom-built headrest to be fitted.
What happens behind the doors of Buckingham Palace remains confidential. But the Queen was once caught dozing on the job during a lecture on medicine and magnets in Düsseldorf in 2004. Perhaps it was the soporific subject matter, or maybe the secret to Her Majesty’s long reign is the power nap.
