The writer is a science commentator
Some people covet a rare species of blind Slovenian cave beetle — not because they are enchanted by entomology but because they long for a specimen of Anophthalmus hitleri, better known as the Hitler beetle. The bug, named in the 1930s in homage to the then German Führer, is sought after by Nazi memorabilia hunters and therefore under threat. But it is also a prominent example in the ongoing scientific debate about whether species bearing offensive names should be given new ones. There are even calls for eponyms — the practice of naming animals and plants after real or fictional people — to be dropped completely.
We should certainly look favourably on attempts to modernise a nomenclature that often honours the dishonourable. Science should not stand apart from the wider cultural discussion, which has seen statues of slave traders removed from public spaces and the names of eugenicists taken off university buildings. As societies progress and attitudes shift, the language and labels of science must not be regarded as untouchable.
The history of zoology and botany has been particularly linked to colonialism, as naturalists sought to collect, categorise and classify the flora, fauna and even the people of newly conquered lands. Names coined in earlier centuries — whether informal terms or the official Latin binomial genus-species names — speak of power and patronage.
The genus of flowering shrub Hibbertia, for example, is found mostly in Australia but named after George Hibbert, an English botany enthusiast condemned during his life for pro-slavery, anti-abolition views. As one recent paper in Nature Ecology and Evolution put it, those commemorated “were almost universally white, male upper-class Europeans”.
Names can be contentious for other reasons. The official name of the quinine tree is Rauvolfia caffra — the latter word shares its origin with a derogatory term regarded as hate speech in South Africa. In December 2021, a team of scientists from the country argued that all species names of similar origin should be replaced.
Such requests, to create synonyms, have not prospered. Rules for naming animals rest with the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature, which simply advises that those chosen should not cause offence and permits naming rights to be auctioned. The equivalent authority for botany is the International Association for Plant Taxonomy. While the IAPT has stayed quiet, the ICZN recently rejected calls to change offensive names on the grounds that its “commitment to a stable and universal nomenclature remains the priority”. Allowing amendments, the commission added, would open a Pandora’s box.
Professor Anjali Goswami, a paleontologist at London’s Natural History Museum, disagrees. She has named multiple species, including a shark and a dinosaur and is president of the Linnean Society of London, named after the Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus who invented the current Latin naming system. The society has been a forum for active debate on the topic (Linnaeus, who racially classified humans, has himself been in the spotlight) but does not hold an official position.
Goswami’s personal view, however, is that amending names is not onerous, already happens when new scientific information comes to light and can be tracked. Replacing offensive monikers, she says, would make biology a more welcoming discipline: “Yes, there are pragmatic issues, such as who decides what needs to be changed . . . but in my opinion they are not insurmountable.” Addressing the issue won’t detract from conservation, she argues, but instead send a much-needed signal that science is global and inclusive.
Other groups are already rethinking popular names. The American Fisheries Society renamed the jewfish the Goliath grouper, and junked squawfish in favour of pikeminnow. The American Ornithological Society is reviewing bird names linked to Confederate generals, having renamed McCown’s longspur the “thick-billed longspur” after George Floyd’s murder.
Dropping eponyms completely would be a mistake. It’s a finder’s perk; besides, nature would be duller without Dermophis donaldtrumpi, a worm-like amphibian, and the Taylor Swift millipede Nannaria swiftae. Retaining eponyms also offers a chance to rebalance history by honouring individuals from underrepresented communities.
But keeping eponyms should not mean that racist and other offensive names get a free pass in perpetuity. Societies and sensibilities change. The lexicon of life can surely adapt, too.