The art of naming

312 Pages·2018·14.167 MB·English

by  Ohl, Michael

The Art of Naming

The Art of Naming
Michael Ohl
translated by Elisabeth Lauffer
The MIT Press
Cambridge, Massachusetts
London, England
This translation © 2018 Massachusetts Institute of Technology
Originally published as Die Kunst der Benennung by Matthes & Seitz Berlin: © Matthes
& Seitz Berlin Verlagsgesellschaft mbH, Berlin 2015. All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any
electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information
storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book was set in ITC Stone by Toppan Best-set Premedia Limited. Printed and
bound in the United States of America.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Ohl, Michael, author.
Title: The art of naming / Michael Ohl ; translated by Elisabeth Lauffer.
Other titles: Kunst der Benennung. English
Description: Cambridge, MA : The MIT Press, [2018] | Originally published as
Die Kunst der Benennung. 1. Aufl. Berlin : Matthes et Seitz, 2015. | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017036352 | ISBN 9780262037761 (hardcover : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Biology--Nomenclature. | Biology--Classification.
Classification: LCC QH83 .O3513 2018 | DDC 578.01/2--dc23 LC record available
at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017036352
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Contents
Prologue: The Beauty of Names vii
Acknowledgments xi
Note on the Images xv
1 Hitler and the Fledermaus 1
2 How Species Get Their Names 37
3 Words, Proper Names, Individuals 73
4 Types and the Materiality of Names 97
5 The Curio Collection of Animal Names 129
6 “I Shall Name This Beetle After My Beloved Wife …” 151
7 “A New Species a Day” 183
8 Who Counts the Species, Names the Names? 211
9 Naming Nothing 243
Epilogue: On Labeling 273
Notes 275
References 281
Index of Author Names 293

Prologue: The Beauty of Names
P r o l o g u e
P r o l o g u e
Nature is complicated. All of our efforts to experience and understand its
elements and phenomena are channeled through words, whether spo-
ken or written. In no instance is this more evident than in natural history
collections. Drawers upon drawers, cabinets upon cabinets of butterflies,
insects, fish, and worms—large and small, colorful and plain, unremarkable
and exotic—fill the great halls. Natural history museums, each a microcosm
of the world, house millions of creatures, but none of the individuals stands
for itself alone. Each one has a name, which is usually provided in the
form of a label. It is through its name that the individual is bestowed with
meaning, and it is through its naming that it becomes part of our percep-
tion of nature. Names perform the function of verbal tags that can apply to
any imaginable biological entity. Species, which serve as the most impor-
tant unit of generalization in the natural sciences, thus command the most
space in this regard. The standardized and distinct linguistic designation of
species follows right on the heels of scientific discovery: one can only name
what has been discovered and recognized.
But beyond the sciences, we also name the diversity of organisms in
our world, in order to speak about them. Many common names, or even
components of names, originate in the distant past of our language, and we
must rely on historical linguistics to reconstruct their meaning. Given their
largely organic emergence and usage, along with a continuous dynamic of
change, vernacular names—compared with scientific labels—are not a suit-
able standard for the uniform naming of biological species.
Why not? Because there are so many of them. Too many to surrender
to the whims of everyday speech. Approximately 1.5 million species have
been identified, cataloged, and named, but an additional three, five, ten, or
even 100 million are still waiting to be found. And named.
viii Prologue
For this reason, organisms are given scientific names that can be used
around the world. Scientific names can seem foreign within everyday
speech because they’re typically formed with classical linguistic elements
following classical linguistic rules. Scientific naming seems to exist at a
distance from the public sphere, perhaps even constituting its own her-
metic world of specialists. Yet species names are everywhere. They’re on
the endangered species list. They’re displayed on potted plant markers in
every garden shop, like Petunia, Iris, and Chrysanthemum. They can even
be found in children’s books, because what dinosaur-obsessed kid doesn’t
know about Tyrannosaurus rex, Triceratops, or Velociraptor?
Indeed, this is where most people will first experience the delight of sci-
entific names. As though they were secret incantations, these names grant
access to the world of those extinct behemoths. Mental images of prehis-
toric landscapes take shape at the sound of their names, and we feel we
are among the initiated, the entrusted, the knowing. For those who know
its name, it becomes possible to experience and possess Spinosaurus, that
fearsome predator of the Cretaceous Period. It is here that insiders break
from the wannabes, those in the know from the amateurs. Thus, the formal
name not only reveals the scene of an organism living in its own world, it
ushers us into the world of science. A species name conveys authority and
knowledge, structuring the living world according to science. A scientific
name is, therefore, the culminating point of a range of impressions and
connotations, knowledge and interpretations.
Yet scientific names are even more than that. For all their alienness, they
are linguistic beauties. Once one has learned to recognize and formulate
their component parts, there is no end to the kaleidoscope of words and
delightful puzzles they present. Working with names, one enters a complex
area of systematic biology and linguistics. The imaginative invention of
scientific names for newly discovered species is an especially joyful ritual.
The intrinsic satisfaction in naming arises not least from the fact that a
name is for eternity—or at least for as long as humans continue speaking
about nature.
Thus, the ideas presented in this book are outlined. Scientific naming
is relevant and important, it’s ubiquitous, it’s easier to understand and use
than one may think, and it’s fun. Because subjective and emotional stakes
invariably play a part in naming, the art of naming should be told through
the example of the artists—that is to say, the taxonomists for whom the