Of Romeo, Pepsi & names that work

Deepshikha Ghosh

New Delhi: When doing a Google search few people would be aware that the search engine that has become a way of life with Internet users was born with the name “Backrub”, or that which can check back links! It may also not be commonly known that the most recognised word in the world — OK — came from the misspelt “Ol Korrect”, and should have been “AC” in the grammatical order. Shakespeare got it wrong, say authors Steve Rivkin and Fraser Sutherland as they trace the journey of popular brand names and their impact on human society in “The Making of a Name — The Inside Story of the Brands We Buy”, published by Oxford.

Contrary to the bard’s famous line, a rose by any other name — say “skunk cabbage”, suggest the authors — would not smell as sweet. And would that most tragic of romances inspire such pathos through successive generations had Juliet exclaimed “O Raffeo! Raffeo!” instead of Romeo? Brands, or names that sell products competing for buyers’ attention, have over the decades become trademarks of culture and lifestyle. The average supermarket carries approximately 45,000 items, most of which have their own names and mark everything we use or wear.

Describing brand names as enduring culture markers, the authors rummage through the shelves to explain the birth and lifetimes of names that are a part of our lexicon and some that have taken a life of their own. “As brand names mirrored and echoed a long whirlwind of innovation that lasted two centuries, distinct styles emerged,” explains noted writer Jack Trout in the foreword. The reader learns that the most popular of global names came out of logic, imagination, stating the obvious, philosophy and individual quirks. A foreign sounding word can be quite fictitious, like the “Haagen-Dazs” ice cream. The company is based in Pennsylvania and its manufacturer Reuben Mattus grew up in Bronx. But he opted for an exotic sounding name.

Pepsi has nothing to do with “pepping up” its drinkers. The drink in fact got its name from “Pepsin”, an enzyme that aids digestion by breaking down proteins in the stomach. Similarly, Prozac, the most successful anti-depressant in recent years, does not derive its name from any chemical formula. “Pro”, meaning something positive, links to “z”, evoking speed, and ends with a plosive (a sound that makes us pause for emphasis). The name feels like it would work. Revelations like these catch the browser unawares. As interesting as the success tales are the naming disasters, some obvious ones only narrowly avoided. Energy firm Enron, for instance, nearly called itself “Enteron” until callers pointed out that Enteron was the medical term for the tract that digests food and disposes of waste. The change was hastily made. Despite the unchallenged global presence of some brands, the book explores how local, regional or national context is vital for any product. Thus the cola giants might face competition in Iraq from the French-owned Mecca Cola and the Britain-based Quibla Cola, which positions itself as the drink for people of conscience.