Throughout human history naming has been one of the most basic powers a human being could seize. We see it in religious literature where we are told “So out of the ground the LORD God formed every beast of the field and every bird of the air, and brought them to the man to see what he would call them; and whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name.”1 We see it as we watch children learn about the world around them as they grasp intuitively that in order to have their desires fulfilled they will need to name the objects they want.
Politics shows us very clearly that being able to name gives one control over the debate. After all, how many people who classify themselves as “pro-life” also support the death penalty and, by definition, negate their stance as being “pro-life?” BushCo. is famous for appearing to change tactics while only changing language (Did Rumsfeld really try to change it from the “war on terrorism” to the “struggle against violent extremism” or did we just imagine that?)2.
Economists Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner maintain that names migrate through society based on socio-economic status3 and that a child’s name can affect his or her success in later in life. Not, they say, based on the name itself but more because parents in socio-economic circumstances that provide fewer opportunities to their children are more likely to choose certain names than parents in circumstances with more opportunities for education.3 To put it more bluntly: poor parents choose names that sound poor while rich parents choose names that society regards as unusual but upscale until they filter down through the rest of the socio-economic scale and fall out of favor.
Having gone to high school in an environment where there were at least three guys named Michael (always called Mike) in each of my six daily classes, not to mention the minimum two Katherines (Kate, Kat, or Katie), and being graced with a given name that does not lend itself to nicknaming I’ve always wondered how powerful it must make someone feel to be able to choose her name.
Online identities, like the one under which I write this blog, offer people the opportunity to create an identity for themselves that matches their self perceptions. Of course, unlike offline nicknames, online identities also offer people the chance to hide and create a smoke screen, to pretend to be something they really aren’t.
Which leads me to the question, why is it that some people attract nicknames and others don’t? Is it a function of the people with whom someone socializes? Is it a function of personality? Or is it just luck that some people end up with the opportunity to choose their own names?
No answers, just questions to ponder as life changes and the world reforms yet again.
Notes:
- Book of Genesis [Revised Standard Version], Chapter 2, Verse 19, Internet Ancient History Sourcebook, Fordham University
- New name for ‘war on terror’, Matthew Davis, July 27, 2005, BBC News
- “Trading Up: Where do baby names come from?“, Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, April 12, 2005, Slate.com
- “A Roshanda by Any Other Name: How do babies with super-black names fare?“, Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner, April 11, 2005, Slate.com
I always nicknames were given to those bubbly, cuddly sort of people (i.e. not me)and that giving one’s self a nickname was a bit of desperate sort of attention seeking.
As far as online names,mine is merely what small children muddle my given name up as (don’t ask it’s far too nonsensical frilly feminine for me to reveal it in a public comment)….I always assumed yours was either a peanuts reference or the small town in upstate new york (though the festival was held in bethel I think)
That chapter on names in freakonomics bothered me, because there is a blatant piece of urban myth (oranjello and lemonjello) stuck in with the research.