In 1927, popular carmaker Studebaker introduced its newest model: the Dictator. The company advertised it as a “fine car” that would “dictate the standards” for other automobiles. Given the course of world history in the proceeding decade, it might be the worst name for a car ever selected. That ignominious position was later challenged by vehicles like the Mitsubishi Carisma, the Dodge Dart Swinger, and the much-maligned AMC Gremlin.
Such choices can invite a question: How do carmakers settle on car names?
The Art of Branding
The issue was recently tackled by Kristin Shaw of Popular Science, who spoke with a number of auto industry experts within the U.S. arms of Honda and Hyundai. Naming often comes down to a few things: availability, theme, and messaging. The Honda Prologue, for example, was so named because it represents a new beginning for the company in terms of electric vehicle options. Its Passport is marketed as a rugged off-road vehicle, with the name giving it the needed travel connotations.
Names can also carry subtext. When Honda released its Civic in 1972, it was referencing the car’s purpose in cities and among citizens. The Accord, which debuted in 1976, was named because Honda wanted to broadcast a desire for accord between people, society, and cars through technology.
Hyundai draws on an emotional connection drivers may have with regional locations: The company markets cars with names like Santa Fe, Palisade, Tucson, and Kona. Companies may also opt for acronyms: Toyota’s RAV4 stands for Recreational Active Vehicle with four-wheel drive. And others avoid the name game altogether by offering model series, like BMW.
Toyota, meanwhile, seems to prefer words that can evoke a transformative driving experience. Camry comes from the Japanese word kanmuri, or crown; Corolla is the word for the petals around a flower; Celica is Spanish for celestial.
The Customer Knows Best
Sometimes, companies simply rely on common consumer product branding strategies like consulting with marketing firms or conducting focus group surveys. A sprawling list is later narrowed based on trademark and legal clearances. These names can materialize based on gut marketing instincts: Toyota’s Lexus was named because it has connotations of luxury and technology. It’s not a word you’ll locate in the dictionary. (Though you can find lexis, a language vocabulary.)
All of this is actually quite harder than it seems. With a century of car production behind automakers, coming up with a name that hasn’t been used is tricky—so is choosing a name that can translate into different markets. Audi’s TT Coupe may sound classy to the American ear, but to the French, it sounds a lot like tête est coupé—or a decapitated car.
Occasionally, companies can sabotage themselves in search of a distinctive brand identity. The Chevy Volt was a 2011 hybrid; the Chevy Bolt was an all-electric released a few years later. Consumers were understandably confused.
Meanwhile, with the Studebaker Dictator, common sense eventually prevailed. It was renamed the Studebaker Commander in 1937.