15 July 2009

By Ken Schmaltz, Marketing Director, Twist Marketing

Recently, two new types of dinosaur were discovered. One, the first new dinosaur species discovered in Australia in 28 years, was bigger, faster and meaner than Velociraptor. Its name is unpronounceable—Australovenator—but you can call it by its nickname, Banjo. The other had a bite four times stronger than T. rex and was the fiercest creature ever to swim the oceans. Its name is Predator X. If you were a kid, which would you want to play with?

I ask this because, with two sons, dinosaurs are big in my house. And I can picture them playing with a toy Predator X while Australovelenator sat on a shelf collecting dust.

Marketers, and palaeontologists eager to get their discoveries a casting call for the next Jurassic Park, would do well to consult my boys when they’re naming new products, companies or dinosaurs. Half an hour of watching them play would provide invaluable insight into the value of a well chosen name.

So, what would I call a new dinosaur?

Best are descriptive names that give you an idea of what the dinosaur is all about. Take Velociraptor or “fast thief.” This dinosaur has gained fame and glory despite the fact it was the size of a turkey, and not just because it would rip you to shreds just for fun. It sounds cool. Not Carcharondontosaurus. It sounds like a meat-eater with braces. It was as big as T. rex and had shark-like teeth—hence the name “great white shark lizard”—but who wants to be the kid playing with the nerd of the dinosaur world?

My second choice would be a suggestive name that coyly alludes to the dinosaur’s qualities. That’s what’s made Tyrannosaurus rex the perennial kids’ favorite. “Tyrant Lizard.” The boss. Top of the carcass heap. In an arm wrestle, I’d actually bet on him to beat Aladar, the iguanodon in Disney’s Dinosaur, even though T. rex had stubby little arms compared to the Iguanodon’s long front legs with thumb spikes that could impale T. rex before he could open his mouth.

My last choice would be an arbitrary name, one that has no apparent connection to the dinosaur itself. Consider Albertosaurus. A relative of T. rex, this carnivore was on top of a very scared food chain. Too bad it had the misfortune of being found in Alberta, after which it was named. Who cares where they dug it up? When I play with a toy dinosaur, I want to be transported to the time of the dinosaurs, not the land where dinosaur juice is pumped out of the ground. If there’s ever a movie where a grumpy Albertosaurus is released from a melting glacier by global warming, I’ll stay home and rent Godzilla vs. Mothra.

Which brings me back to product and company names. Descriptives may not be as catchy as Google or Apple, but they take little explaining and, when done well, can be truly engaging. The same is true for suggestive names, with the added benefit that you can be a little more creative. Arbitrary names are so...arbitrary. They take up too much time explaining. True, when an arbitrary name succeeds, they are memorable. But anyone remember a little software company called Purple Yogi? Didn’t think so. And for every Google, there are a thousand Purple Yogis. Or Edmontosauri, Edmontonias…

The Twist: Your product and company name should tell people what you do, not leave them wondering if you can solve their problems. A bad name can make a great product average, and a good name can at least get customers to toy with the idea of buying a bad product.