Hail to the Champion: the winner of the 2008 Baby Name Pool

May 13th 2009

Hundreds fought, but only one would emerge the Baby Naming Champion.

Meet  Dara S., who rose to the top by predicting the rise of Marley and Piper.  Dara is a 28-year-old lawyer from Montana, and she based her picks on naming trends she sees in her own community. She credits her Montana setting for keeping her up-to-the-minute: "Montana seems to be slightly ahead of the baby naming trend curve, for better or worse, so names seem to be popular here or fall out of fashion a little earlier than the rest of the country."

"I tried to pick names that I thought would have some national familiarity (Piper Palin and Marley and Me, for instance), that were 'hot' locally, and that fit in with naming trends.  For instance I had seen lots of Marleys, and that seemed to fit with Miley being so popular last year," Dara explained.

Our runner-up Jessa scored with a balanced ballot led by Isla on the rising side and the top set of falling predictions: Hannah, Emily and Samantha.

Congratulations, Dara and Jessa!

A few extra notes on the Pool...

- Want a sign of just how hard this contest is? Check this out: the negative scores ran higher than the positive.  If you judged the zeitgeist wrong and guessed that Miley was a one-year wonder, or that the dog Marley would turn parents off that name for girls, you could end up underwater. As it turns out, eight different entrants would have topped the winning score if they’d reversed their rising and falling predictions.

- You might recall that this year I decided to put it on the line and offer my own Pool ballot. So now, the moment of truth.

The winning score was 97. My score was…ahem…104. Guess I’ve earned my job for one more year?

 

Thanks again to everyone who joined in. See you next year!

 

In Memoriam: the departed names of 2008

May 11th 2009

Each year at this time, we pause a moment to reflect on the long-familiar names that dropped out of the top 1000 for the first time. Some 2008 notables:

 

Brad. A top-1000 standby since 1942, Brad was one of the signature names of the 1960's and '70s. Now, you can’t help but notice that it rhymes with Dad. (Celebrity watchers, note that Brad Pitt has had absolutely no discernible impact on this name's popularity arc.)

Karl. Karl was one of the true stalwarts, a name that had made the top 1000 every year on record (since 1880). This year marked the end of that run, as Karl – like Brad – suffered for its 3-to-1 consonant-vowel ratio.

Carrie. Are you surprised to learn that Carrie, too, had been on a 127-year run? In fact, the name's heyday was in the 1800s, with a second wind in the 1970s.

Toni. Toni's been around since the '20s, and held up across cultural moments from Toni Tennille to Toni Braxton. No feminine form of Anthony makes the charts this year.

Annette. The image of Frankie and Annette’s endless '60s beach parties makes this name feel date-stamped, but in fact it had a long, multigenerational run.

Brandy. Yes, the '80s are really over.

Susana. OK, this is a head-scratcher. As of this year, no spelling of this classic name cracks the top 1000. Yet I constantly talk to parents who love the name, especially spelled Susannah. If you're hunting for that elusive Sasquatch of names – a name that everybody knows, everybody likes, and nobody uses – you've just found it.

 

On Barack and Caylee: names and the news

May 10th 2009

In December, I described calls I'd received from journalists eager to report on the huge wave of babies named in honor of new president Barack Obama. I had to break it to them that I wasn't aware of any such wave; as far as I knew, Barack remained a rare name. What's more, that was pretty much to be expected. Hero naming for new presidents used to be routine, but in post-Watergate American we generally wait until a president is out of office -- and preferably dead -- before committing our children's names to the cause.

Some of the reporters had trouble accepting this. The flood of new baby Baracks was an awesome story idea, and they were on deadline. They asked me to put out a call to my readers to find little Baracks. I did; nobody answered. Around the country, more journalists scrounged for examples. One dad scored a major newspaper profile by pretending to have named his son after the president. Another family was featured on television for choosing Barack for their son...as a second middle name. In fact, if you followed the news accounts, you'd be excused for thinking that the wave of little Obama namesakes had actually happened.

And now, the Social Security Administration has compounded that impression with its lead story on the 2008 name popularity data. Barack has flown thousands of spots up the popularity ranks...all the way to #2409!

Everybody, do you realize just how insignificant that change is?

For perspective, more babies would be affected by a move from, say, #99 to #98. Tons of minor reality tv stars had a bigger impact. Our president's name still isn't within shouting distance of the popularity of names like Hezekiah or Abdiel. Or to put it in political terms, even Tripp outpaced Barack by a mile.

Today, as I peruse the many headlines about the "stunning rise" of the name Barack, I can't help but think about the opportunities lost. Because when you only search within the narrow beam of your own preconceptions, you miss the chance to truly discover anything. If you'd let the data take the lead, you might find that names did tell some revealing stories about American society in 2008. For instance, you might notice the name Caylee.

Caylee Anthony was a Florida toddler who was tragically killed in June, 2008. The child was initially reported as missing; later, her mother was charged with murder. Caylee was the fifth-fastest rising name in America, ahead of Miley. Previously unranked, Caylee is now #519 among all girls' names, many times as popular as Barack.

This is not an anomaly. When the death of an attractive young woman or girl generates extended media coverage, the victim's name reliably soars in usage. The name Laci, off the charts for a decade, rose all the way to #438 in 2003 after the murder of Laci Peterson. Similarly, the name Natalee was one of the fastest risers of 2005 due to the disappearance of teenager Natalee Holloway.

At first glance, this might seem to be another instance of the "hurricane name effect": the publicity surrounding a terrible storm can make its name rise in popularity, despite the associations of death and destruction. It's the ultimate example of the old saw that any publicity is good publicity, as long as they spell your name right.

But there's a significant difference with the crime victim names. A hurricane, or even a celebrity, will only  boost a name if it's the right name. If the name is fresh and stylish, the idea will inspire parents. If not, all the publicity in the world doesn't help. The crime victims, in contrast, inspire namesakes even when their names had already gone out of style. The graph of Laci illustrates the phenomenon. This year, Caylee created new momentum for a familiar name that, accross its many spellings, had leveled off. It takes an extreme name like Jon-Benet to keep namesakes away.

This pattern suggests that much more than a mere publicity effect is at work. The victim names behave more like personal homages. And for those who might think of the intense public interest in the cases as simply "morbid curiosity," the naming pattern reveals a more profound kind of emotional involvement. Parents take baby name decisions very seriously, and they won't name a child after just anybody.

I'm a baby namer, not a sociologist, so I'll only draw my conclusions as far as the names take me. But I'll end with a contrast to contemplate. In the 21st Century, American parents are less likely than ever before to name a child after themselves, or after their own parents. They're less likely than ever to choose a name to honor a new leader, or a military hero. But they will choose names to honor a particular kind of crime victim. Look at the difference in baby-name impact between a Laci Peterson and a Pat Tillman, and come up with conclusions of your own.