Can Baby Names Explain the Mechanisms behind Cultural and Linguistic Change?

by Alexandra Petrulevich

Alma, Freja, Alice, Olivia, Elsa, and Noa, Valter, William, Lukas, Hugo – these are the five most popular female resp. male first names given to Swedish babies in 2024. Following trends in new-born namegiving has been a special onomastic branch in the Nordics for decades now, in Sweden at least from 1998 when Statistics Sweden started publishing name statistics (which they no longer do).[1] What can these names tell us about language and more importantly linguistic change?

Three-generation rule

Of course, following trends in frequency distributions of top names over time means we are already observing linguistic change in name stocks. These onomasticon fluctuations have of course to do with parents’ preferences for certain names, which in itself is a cultural habit susceptible to change. An established mechanism for this type of change is the so-called three-generation rule, i.e. it is the third generation’s, the babies’ great-grandparents’ names that are “recycled” and thus chosen for new-borns – rather than any of the names associated with the parent or grandparent generation.

Baby Names and Cultural and Linguistic Change

However, baby names exemplify more than just changes in personal name stocks in social sciences, more specifically, in statistics, and in biology. Baby names represent population-wide large authentic linguistic datasets that allow researchers to follow cultural incl. linguistic change in real time. This specific circumstance makes baby names ideal for data-driven modelling of such change. The main explanatory framework applied to baby names-based models by statisticians, mathematicians and biologists is the so-called neutral theory of evolution. This theory postulates two possible paths of evolutionary change, a deterministic path and a random or drift path. In the former case, evolution or cultural and linguistic change favours some specific e.g. novel variants, while in the latter drift or random selection underpins and explains such change. Several studies show that authentic baby names datasets exhibit a power law distribution of variants. See e.g. frequency distributions of 1000 most popular American (a) male and (b) female names for three decades of the twentieth century in Figure 1, and frequency distributions of Norwegian boy names with the threshold value 4, i.e. names with less than four bearers were not considered, 1880–2010 in Figure 2.

Figure 1. Frequency distributions of 1000 most popular American (a) male and (b) female names for 1900–1909 (triangles), 1950–1959 (diamonds in a), 1940–1949 (diamonds in b), and 1980–1989 (circles). From: (1), Hahn & Bentley 2003: Figure 1
Figure 2. Frequency distributions of Norwegian boy names with the threshold value 4 1880–2010. From: (2), Kessler, Maruvka, Ouren & Shnerb 2012: Figure 3

Interestingly, although the explanatory framework and the distribution features of underlying data is to a large degree identical in the surveyed studies, the resulting conclusions can be described as strikingly different. One of the cornerstone papers in the field (1) postulates drift as the main mechanism of cultural change. Ten years later, this conclusion is questioned by (2) that advocates for a deterministic explanation. Why is this so?

Data-driven Modelling Has a Data Issue

At least one most likely explanation of these incompatible conclusions has to do with the data the studies are based on, more precisely with the issue of data completeness. As (3) shows, rare variants have an important role in the overall distribution and modelling picture of baby names. This means that different results are acquired depending on whether rare variants are included into the modelling dataset or not. Both of the studies mentioned in previous section build their models on incomplete data. In (3), researchers see an anti-novelty bias, i.e. a deterministic picture, rather than random selection in the distribution in the complete baby name dataset from South Australia.

However, the data issue in studies of cultural and linguistic change seems to be even more substantial than data completeness alone. The surveyed studies do not seem to take any data quality or linguistic parameters into consideration. It is for instance impossible to understand if the name statistics taken from a third source represent so-called raw data or if they have been manipulated or enriched or clustered in any way by the responsible authority, e.g. social security services or tax agencies or the like. Given the importance of completeness for the modelling outcome, it is of course paramount to only use complete and carefully curated datasets. Another related issue concerns so called unique variants. What is a unique name or a unique variant? Does a unique spelling variant of a very common name constitute a unique variant? Will the results be different if several levels of linguistic resolution such as name formation and spelling are introduced?

New Project at Uppsala University

These are all important questions to answer before data-driven modelling of cultural and linguistic change based on baby names datasets can provide us with reliable results. These are also some of the questions the recently Uppsala University funded project Swedish Baby Names for Data-driven Modelling of Cultural Change will answer in its pilot study. One of the project’s innovations is the ambition to deep-dive into the onomastic and linguistic aspects of the underlying datasets. For the first time, onomastics and (historical) linguistics can be seen as the motor in a data-driven study of cultural and linguistic change. More on the results next time!

Key references

(1) Hahn MW, Bentley RA Drift as a mechanism for cultural change: an example from baby names. Proc. Biol. Soc. 270, S120–S123 (2003)

(2) Kessler DA, Maruvka YE, Ouren J, Shnerb NM. You name it – how memory and delay govern first name dynamics. PLoS ONE 7, e38790. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0038790 (2012)

(3) O’Dwyer JP, Kandler A. Inferring processes of cultural transmission: the critical role of rare variants in distinguishing neutrality from novelty biases. Phil. Trans. R. Soc. B 372: 20160426. (2017) http://dx.doi.org/10.1098/rstb.2016.0426


[1] The Swedish Tax Agency took over name statistics from 2024.

“Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose”

by Emily Lethbridge (Árni Magnússon Institute for Icelandic Studies, Reykjavík)

“Peace (1946)”, “Love (1980)”, “Love and Peace (2002)”. These — plus another forty or so — are rose cultivars on display in the Rose Garden at the United Nations Headquarters in New York. With a couple of exceptions, the roses were not yet in flower when I was there in early May, attending the biennial meeting of the United Nations Group of Experts on Geographical Names, though a more recent social media post from the UN showed the garden in full and glorious bloom. The scent must be phenomenal.

Screenshot of UN LinkedIn page with images of the Rose Garden in bloom.

As I wound my way around the flower beds in a short break I noticed and became increasingly intrigued by the roses’ names, as marked on small signs that also give the date that the roses were given prizes in the annual All-America Rose Selections (AARS) awards. I photographed each label and typed the information up once home, thinking the collection of rose names might be a fun dataset to look at more closely. What kinds of questions might be asked of a collection of names such as this? What kinds of insights might critical analysis of this category of proper names give us more generally regarding the functions that they fill in social contexts and in particular spaces? The symbolic relevance of rose-names such as “Peace” and “Love” on the UN site was clear but the messages conveyed by other rose-names were rather more perplexing.

The UN Rose Garden (photo: Emily Lethbridge 2025)
Rosa ‘Peace’ label (photo: Emily Lethbridge 2025)

Here’s the list of names I compiled, arranged in alphabetical order and with the dates of their AARS awards:

About Face 2005 Love 1980 
All That Jazz 1992 Marmalade Skies 2001 
Artistry 1997 Mardi Gras 2008 
Betty Boop 1999 Memorial Day 2004 
Bonica 1987 Mister Lincoln 1965 
Carefree Spirit 2009 Moondance 2007 
Cherry Parfait 2003 Olympiad 1984 
Color Magic 1978 Opening Night 1988 
Crimson Bouquet 2000 Peace 1946 
Day Breaker 2004 Pink Home Run 2011 
Dick Clark 2011 Pink Promise 2009 
Double Delight 1977 Scentimental 1997 
Dr Kurt Waldheim Secret 1994 
Dreams Come True 2008 St Patrick 1996 
Easy Does It 2010 Strike it Rich 2007 
Elle 2005 Summer Nights 2012 
Falling in Love 2008 Sunshine Daydream 2012 
Gemini 2000 Sweet Surrender 1983 
Honey Perfume 2004 Tahitian Sunset 2006 
Hot Cocoa 2003 Touch of Class 1986 
Julia Child 2006 Voodoo 1986 
Knock Out 2000 Wild Blue Yonder 2006 
Love & Peace 2002  

It’s possible to assign these names on a rough basis to various categories or types. Many names relate to the rose’s appearance: petal colour is suggested directly or implied by association via names such as ‘Cherry Parfait’ (the cultivar has cherry pink and cream petals), ‘Color Magic’ (salmon fading to blush pink), ‘Crimson Bouquet’ (bright red), ‘Day Breaker’ (apricot and pink), ‘Gemini’ (double- or twin-coloured coral and cream); ‘Hot Cocoa’ (chocolate orange), ‘Marmalade Skies’ (tangerine orange), ‘Moondance’ (creamy white), ‘Pink Home Run’ (strong pink), ‘Pink Promise’ (light pink), ‘Strike it Rich’ (deep golden yellow), ‘Sunshine Daydream’ (yellow), ‘Tahitian Sunset’ (apricot and pink) and ‘Wild Blue Yonder’ (magenta purple). Rosa ‘Double Delight’ is a two-tone cultivar with a cream centre and pink outer petals. 

As I searched for information about Rosa ‘St Patrick’, I learned that the name apparently has its origins in the flower’s colourings: “The bloom color of St. Patrick is variable, and ranges from a pure yellow, to a golden yellow, pale yellow, and is often tinged with green, hence the name” (source).  Other distinguishable characteristics of roses include form and scent, the latter indicated in the names ‘Honey Perfume’ and ‘Scentsational’ (a nice pun), and maybe ‘Knock Out’, ‘Sweet Surrender’ and ‘Summer Nights’.

Some names suggest the psychological or emotional effect the rose might have, or they hint at a certain atmosphere or mood that the flower might conjure up. Examples are ‘About Face’ (a rose that one turns one’s head to look at?), ‘All that Jazz’ (bright and bold?), ‘Bonica’ (Catalan for ‘beautiful’),‘Carefree Spirit’, ‘Dreams Come True’, ‘Easy Does It’, ‘Falling in Love’ (a pink bloom), ‘Knock Out’, ‘Secret’, ‘Opening Night’ (a rose that’s a show-stopper?), ‘Sweet Surrender’, and ‘Voodoo’ (a rose that exerts a spell?)). Names such as ‘Peace’, ‘Love’ and ‘Dreams Come True’ might be understood aspirational, again evoking a certain mood or with some kind of symbolic import.  

Rosa ‘Julia Child’ label (photo: Emily Lethbridge 2025)

Another category of names that can be identified in the list above is that of commemorative names. Names such as ‘Mardi Gras’, ‘Memorial Day’ and ‘Olympiad’ refer to particular days or festivals: ‘Olympiad’ is a cultivar selected in 1984 as the rose of the Olympics held that year, and described as a ‘champion’.

Other names commemorate or memorialize people, whether historical or fictional. ‘Betty Boop’, ‘Dick Clark’, ‘Dr Kurt Waldheim’, ‘Julia Child’, ‘Mister Lincoln’ and ‘St Patrick’ all fit in this category, though their claims to fame vary: 

  • Betty Boop refers to the cartoon character originally created in the United States in the 1930s;  
  • Dick Clark (1929–2012) was a well-known radio and TV personality in America;
  • Kurt Waldheim (1918–2007) was an Austrian politician and diplomat who served as Secretary-General of the UN between 1972 and 1981. From 1986 to 1992 he was President of Austria; it was during this time that accusations and investigations regarding Waldheim’s participation in Nazi crimes led to him being barred from entry into the United States and regarded as a diplomatic persona non grata by most countries around the world. The rose cultivar’s label was the only one in the UN garden without an AARS award but it was registered by German rose-breeder Reimer Kordes in 1974 (source);  
  • Julia Child (1912–2004) was an American chef whose kitchen was known across the United States from the early 1960s onwards, thanks to her hugely popular TV cooking shows;  
  • Abraham Lincoln (1809–1865) was the 16th President of the United States, leading the Union against the Confederacy in the American Civil War and issuing the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863;   
  • St Patrick was a fifth-century Briton who became a key figure in the early Christian church; the ‘Apostle of Ireland’ is a global emblem of Ireland and on the 17th March every year his feast is celebrated (sometimes riotously) around the world.  

The significance of each of these figures (and their commemoration in a rose cultivar name) is, of course, culturally contingent. Betty Boop, Dick Clark and Julia Child are probably not widely known beyond the United States, for example; globally, perhaps only St Patrick is a recognizable name.

Descriptions of these roses on online websites suggest a strong link between commemorative names and marketing strategies. Rosa ‘Betty Boop’ is, for example, “A spunky, sparkly, and stylish rose to match it’s [sic] namesake, Betty Boop delivers an eye catching combination of cherry red 3” blooms with ivory yellow centers. The naturally rounded plant carries all its long-lived flowers atop clean glossy green leaves and dark red new foliage. Destined to capture your heart. Reblooms quickly without deadheading or shaping” (source).

Rosa ‘Dick Clark’ is advertised in the following way: “Dick Clark, the entertainer, was as timeless and loved as this rose. His black-red buds spiral open to showy swirls of cream edged with vibrant, cherry red. Under the intense sun, these classically-formed and cinnamon-spiced fragrant flowers begin to blush a stunning burgundy color.  Dick Clark is a continual bloomer on a tall, bushy, upright plant with large, glossy, dark green foliage. He is sure to be as loved in your garden as his namesake was in Americana television” (source).  

Of Rosa ‘Julia Child’, it is said that “This yellow rose couldn’t be more enticing if it smelled like hot, buttered popcorn. Or perhaps more fitting, Bernaise sauce on a tasty filet mignon. Named for the woman who brought French cuisine to the kitchens of America, Julia Child combines intoxication aroma with a delicious presentation of uplifting color” (source).

Curiously, Rosa ‘Dr Waldheim’ does not seem to be amongst the 37,000 + rose cultivars listed in the American Rose Society’s Modern Rose Database: has this cultivar become a rosa non grata? The UN’s biography of Kurt Waldheim makes no mention of the war-crimes-related controversy that surrounded his career post-UN (source): whether the continued presence of Rosa ‘Dr Waldheim’ in the rose garden is an oversight or a statement of one or another kind is unclear. The ambiguity, however, serves to illustrates the point that names of all kinds are never ‘mere’ labels: they are culturally, socially and politically loaded — if some are more and others less so, at any given time and in any given place.

If the dataset were larger, considering it on a chronological basis could open up other possibilities for analysis, enabling us to see whether, or the extent to which, rose cultivar names might reflect or relate to wider social issues and trends, possibly on different geographical scales (national/international). Though the present dataset is too small a sample to get far with this (and most names are probably the combined result of the interests and imaginations of individual rose-breeders with an eye to commercial promotion) it is nonetheless moving that the oldest rose in the collection is called ‘Peace’ (the date on the label is 1946).

In May 1945, WWII ended in Europe; the UN came into existence on the 24th October 1945, after its newly-written Charter had been ratified (source). The ‘Peace’ rose (a hybrid tea rose) was bred in France by Francis Meilland in the 1930s. It originally bore the name ‘Madame A. Meilland’: a name that must have commemorated Francis’s mother, who died of cancer in 1932 (his father was called Antoine, thus Madame A[ntoine] Meilland = Mrs Claudia Meilland, née Dubreuil). Francis sent cuttings out of the country in 1939 shortly before Germany invaded France and one cutting was propagated by a horticultural company in the United States. This company happened to introduce the rose commercially onto the American market under the name ‘Peace’ on the very day that Berlin fell to the Allied Forces, the 29th April 1945 (source). The following year, 1946, Rosa ‘Peace’ won the All-America Rose Selections award: in another twist of name-related fate, this was apparently on the same day that Japan surrendered and World War II ended on the Pacific Front (source).

In 2005, the 60th birthday of Rosa ‘Peace’, it was said that “The name ‘Peace’ seems to have outlasted all the others. The timing of its launch was perfect and it struck such a chord that within nine years some 30 million ‘Peace’ rose bushes were flowering around the world. But it wasn’t because of sentiment alone. ‘Peace’ truly was a superlative rose, superior by far to the roses before it in terms of vigour, hardiness, and the long lasting ability of its blooms. The colour was also magnificent, a pale, golden yellow deepening to red along the petal edges … Its contribution to the rose world has been immeasurable. Because of its vigour and dependability, ‘Peace’ has been used in breeding programmes across the world … Indeed it is probably safe to say that most of our modern roses are descended in some way from ‘Peace’ … ‘Peace’ also breathed new life into the gardening world, which sorely needed reviving after the war. The huge amount of publicity it received internationally made people excited about growing roses again” (source). It’s terribly sad that in 2025, as the Rosa ‘Peace’ cultivar celebrates its 80th birthday, war rages in many places around the world and the UN itself is fighting financial collapse. The rose remains a symbol of hope, nonetheless.

Rosa ‘Elle’ (photo: Emily Lethbridge 2025)