What’s in a Name?

In Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Juliet opines that the fact of Romeo’s being a Montague (sworn enemy of her family, the Capulets) means nothing at all. After all, “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose/By any other name would smell as sweet.” Well, Juliet, not even close.
The truth seems to be that names markedly alter our perceptions.
In experiments in which smells are given positive names—say, “banana bread,” “black licorice,” or “orange peel”—sniffers perceive them as much pleasanter than when the same smells are given negative names, such as “moldy vegetables,” “insect repellant,” and “dead animal.” A rose dubbed “hospital disinfectant,” in other words, might not smell particularly sweet to us at all.
Even our own proper names can come back to bite us. If you were christened DeShawn, LaToya, Precious, or Jamal, for example, you’re much less likely to be tapped for a job interview than the identically credentialed Brendan, Brad, Emily, or Claire.
 Names also matter when it comes to food.
During World War II, the Department of Defense enlisted a cadre of psychologists and anthropologists—among them Margaret Mead—to convince the American public to eat unpopular organ meats (hearts, kidneys, brains, stomachs, and intestines) and other avoided animal parts, such as cows’ heads, chickens’ feet, and pigs’ ears. One ploy was to simply change the name: while people balked at brains, most were willing to accept “variety meats.” When it comes to food, we’re also suckers for adjectives. Studies show that customers at restaurants and cafeterias are more likely to order food and find it tasty if it comes with a descriptor. continue