Exploring how scientists classify and name everything from species to stars
What's in a name? According to Shakespeare's Juliet, rather little—she famously declared that "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." But scientists throughout history would strongly disagree. From the heated debates over planetary names to the precise rules governing every species on Earth, the process of scientific naming represents a fascinating intersection of tradition, discovery, and sometimes outright controversy.
When William Herschel discovered Uranus in 1781, he wanted to name it Georgium Sidus (George's Star) after King George III 1 . Fortunately, astronomers rejected this idea in favor of myological consistency—Uranus, as the father of Saturn in mythology, maintained the celestial family tree.
This single example illustrates the complex considerations behind what we call things—considerations that extend far beyond simple identification to encompass history, culture, and our evolving understanding of the natural world.
Before standardized naming systems emerged, scientific communication suffered from Babel-like confusion. In the biological sciences, one person might refer to a particular tree as a white oak, while another person down the road might call the same tree a rounded oak, and a third might use the term white oak for a completely different tree altogether 2 .
Lack of standardization made it nearly impossible for scientists to share knowledge accurately across regions and languages.
Carl Linnaeus developed the system of binomial nomenclature that scientists use today 2 , assigning unique two-part names to each organism.
The problem extended beyond biology. Celestial objects, geological formations, and chemical compounds all suffered from inconsistent naming practices. The solution arrived in the 18th century through the work of Carl Linnaeus, a Swedish naturalist who revolutionized scientific communication.
At the heart of biological classification lies binomial nomenclature—a formal system of naming species using two parts . The first part indicates the genus (a grouping of related species), while the second part specifies the particular species within that genus.
This system provides crucial information about relationships between organisms. Species within the same genus are more closely related evolutionarily than those in different genera. The two-part structure offers both identification and classification in a concise format—what one researcher describes as "economy" of information .
Scientific naming follows strict international codes governed by bodies like the International Astronomical Union (for celestial objects) and the International Commission on Zoological Nomenclature (for animals) 1 2 . These organizations maintain consistency through precise rules:
These rules prevent confusion and ensure that each name is unique and universally recognizable across languages and national boundaries.
Scientific names might appear permanent, but they often change as our understanding evolves. These changes typically occur for one of two reasons 6 :
The rule of priority means that if a species has been named multiple times, the first correctly published name must be used. Later names become synonyms.
New information, particularly from genetic analysis, often reveals that previous classification based on physical characteristics was incorrect.
A classic example of naming volatility involves the beloved dinosaur Brontosaurus 2 . First discovered in the 1870s, it was later determined to be the same as Apatosaurus, discovered earlier—so Brontosaurus was discarded as a name. However, in 2015, a comprehensive analysis of 81 skeletons suggested there were enough differences to justify resurrecting Brontosaurus as a valid name 2 .
| Reason for Change | Description | Example |
|---|---|---|
| Priority of publication | Earlier published name discovered | Tyrannosaurus rex nearly changed to Manospondylus gigas 2 |
| Genetic analysis | DNA evidence reveals different relationships | Gilia plants reclassified to Aliciella and other genera 6 |
| New specimens | Better preserved specimens provide more data | Numerous dinosaur species now considered juvenile forms of others |
| Taxonomic revision | Re-evaluation of characteristics | Pluto's reclassification from planet to dwarf planet |
In the late 1990s, botanist J. Mark Porter conducted a groundbreaking study that would demonstrate the power of genetic analysis to rewrite taxonomic classifications 6 . His work focused on the Polemoniaceae family (phlox family), specifically plants that had been lumped into the catch-all genus Gilia.
Porter gathered specimens from various herbaria, including Gilia pinnatifida collected by Thomas Nuttall in the 1830s 6 .
Genetic material was carefully isolated from tissue samples without damaging the preserved specimens.
Specific genetic markers (primarily chloroplast DNA and ribosomal DNA regions) were amplified and sequenced.
Computer algorithms analyzed genetic similarities and differences to reconstruct evolutionary relationships.
The genetic results were compared with physical characteristics to confirm findings.
Porter's genetic analysis revealed that plants classified under Gilia actually belonged to several distinct evolutionary lineages 6 . The genus wasn't a natural grouping but rather an artificial convenience that had persisted due to superficial similarities between unrelated plants.
One significant finding was that Gilia pinnatifida was more closely related to plants in the abandoned genus Aliciella than to other Gilia species. This discovery led to the resurrection of Aliciella and the reclassification of the plant as Aliciella pinnatifida 6 .
| Original Classification | Revised Classification | Basis for Change |
|---|---|---|
| Gilia pinnatifida | Aliciella pinnatifida | Genetic divergence from core Gilia species |
| Gilia capitata | Remain in Gilia | Genetic similarity to Gilia type species |
| Gilia brandegeei | Ipomopsis brandegeei | Closer relation to Ipomopsis genus |
| Gilia micrantha | Allophyllum micranthum | Distinct genetic lineage warranting new genus |
This study exemplifies how molecular evidence has transformed taxonomy from a field based primarily on visible similarities to one grounded in evolutionary relationships revealed by genetics. The implications extend beyond academic interest—accurate classification is crucial for conservation efforts, understanding biodiversity, and tracking evolutionary history.
The digital revolution has transformed scientific naming practices, addressing challenges but also introducing new complexities. Mass digitization of museum collections has made type specimens accessible to researchers worldwide, facilitating the comparison needed to determine if a specimen represents a new species or a already described one 6 .
However, the pace of discovery has accelerated dramatically. In ichthyology alone, researchers describe approximately 340 new fish species each year, adding to the more than 60,000 already named species 5 . This rapid expansion creates challenges in maintaining accurate, current records across the global scientific community.
| Organism Group | Species Described Yearly | Total Known Species | Authority |
|---|---|---|---|
| Fishes | ~340 | >60,000 | Catalog of Fishes 5 |
| Plants | ~2,000 | ~390,000 | Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew |
| Insects | ~8,000 | >1,000,000 | Entomological Society of America |
| Bacteria | ~500 | ~15,000 | International Journal of Systematic and Evolutionary Microbiology |
Digital databases like the Catalog of Fishes—painstakingly compiled by William N. Eschmeyer over 25 years—have become indispensable resources 5 . These databases not only track names but also provide critical information about type specimens, original descriptions, and taxonomic history. They represent dynamic tools that constantly evolve as new information emerges.
"You might think that deciding on names would be a dry, humdrum activity... But it has often been contentious" 1 . Scientific identities and professional legacies are sometimes tied to naming decisions, ensuring that the field remains as much about people as about precision.
Essential resources for tracking species names and taxonomic history across global scientific communities.
Taxonomists and other biologists rely on specialized tools and resources to navigate the complex landscape of scientific naming:
Physical reference specimens preserved in museum collections that serve as the definitive example of a species 5 .
Online repositories like the Catalog of Fishes 5 that maintain updated taxonomic information.
Official rulebooks including the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature .
Technology that enables comparison of genetic material between specimens 6 .
Digital access to historical publications essential for establishing naming priority.
Database software used by museums to track specimen information 6 .
These tools collectively support the meticulous work of identifying, classifying, and naming Earth's biodiversity—work that continues to reveal how much we have yet to discover about our planet's biological richness.
The science of naming represents far more than simply assigning labels to objects and organisms. It is a dynamic process that reflects our evolving understanding of the natural world and our place within it. From the mythological inspirations behind planetary names to the precise genetic analyses that reshape biological classifications, naming practices weave together tradition, discovery, and collaboration.
As our tools become more sophisticated—from DNA sequencing to global digital databases—our ability to classify and name with accuracy improves dramatically. Yet the human elements of creativity, disagreement, and cultural influence remain embedded in the process. The name Uranus persists despite endless schoolyard jokes, just as Brontosaurus maintains its place in our hearts if not always in our textbooks.
In the end, scientific naming represents our ongoing attempt to impose order on nature's magnificent complexity—not to diminish its wonder, but to deepen our understanding of the connections that bind all things, from the smallest bacterium to the farthest planet. The names themselves tell this story of discovery, each one a chapter in humanity's ever-unfolding dialogue with the natural world.