The thirty-sixth angel is assigned work and productivity. It is a fair marker of how thoroughly the vocabulary of the seventy-two has been rewritten for a contemporary readership.
The trajectory can be followed. In the earliest layer there are no offices at all; there is a technique for deriving names. In Reuchlin the names are angels, and the interest is theological and philological. In Agrippa they take their place within a philosophy of correspondence. In Lenain, in 1823, they acquire practical domains, governed hours and talismanic characters, in the idiom of French occultism, protection, favour, deliverance, victory over enemies. In twentieth-century popularisation those domains soften toward emotional and personal categories. In the current English-language literature they arrive as productivity, self-improvement, resilience, manifestation and leadership.
Each stage is legible as a translation of the previous one into the concerns of its own readers, and each preserves the structure while replacing the content.
There is a reason this matters beyond pedantry. The stability of the sequence, seventy-two names, fixed order, fixed degrees, gives the system an appearance of unchanging antiquity that the actual content contradicts. The bones are old. Almost everything hung on them has been replaced at least twice.
A reader encountering an attribute that sounds distinctly modern is not encountering a corruption. They are encountering the newest layer of a system that has always been rewritten, by people who understood themselves to be transmitting it faithfully. The useful response is to date it rather than to correct it, and to be clear which layer any given claim belongs to.