We love to romanticize the past. We read historical fiction, imagine ancient warriors with noble names, and think, “Wow, they really thought deeply about naming their kids back then.”
No, they didn’t. They were just as susceptible to tacky, status-seeking naming fads as modern parents naming their kids “Jaden” or “McKenzie.”
Take the Ming Dynasty. You might imagine the emperor’s elite guard was filled with warriors who had profound, unique names. But if you actually look at the military rosters from the late 1500s, you get slapped in the face by the sheer volume of one massively trendy name: Cheng’en.
It literally translates to “Receiving Grace” or “Bearing Imperial Favor.”
Let’s look at the actual records. During the Jiajing and Wanli eras, practically everyone who was anyone decided this was the exact name their baby boy needed. We aren’t talking about a few guys. We’re talking about an absolute epidemic.
In a single military roster, you can’t throw a stone without hitting a Cheng’en. There’s a Centurion Li Cheng’en. Then there’s another Centurion Xu Cheng’en. Wait, there’s also a Deputy Centurion Lu Cheng’en. Oh, and a ten-year-old Centurion Liu Cheng’en. And another Centurion Liu Cheng’en. And another Li Cheng’en.
When you give your kid a trendy name, you aren’t breaking the mold. You are just signaling to the world that you know exactly what the current power structure wants to hear.
And it wasn’t just the lower ranks trying to suck up. This trend permeated the absolute highest levels of the military elite. The commander of the Imperial Bodyguard? An Cheng’en. Another commander? Hai Cheng’en. Another? Bai Cheng’en. The deputy commanders? Pei Cheng’en and Wang Cheng’en. The list goes on. And on. If you yelled “Cheng’en!” in a crowded 16th-century barracks, half the garrison would turn around.
Even non-Han officers joined the bandwagon. A commander of Jurchen descent? Tian Cheng’en. A commander of Mongolian descent? Song Cheng’en. They all wanted to make absolutely sure the emperor knew they were receiving that grace.
History doesn’t give a name gravitas; conformity gives it gravitas. The most “elegant” historical names are usually just the most successful cliches of their era.
But wait, maybe Cheng’en was just an outlier? No. The mid-Ming Dynasty had its own version. During the Hongzhi and Zhengde eras, every single person of slight status suddenly decided that giving their kid a single-character name featuring the word “Jian” (meaning mirror or to reflect) was the absolute height of sophistication. It was the 1500s equivalent of naming every kid “Hunter” or “River.”
Why do we do this? Because we want it both ways. We want a name that sounds distinct and aristocratic, but we also want a name that signals loyalty and belonging to the current power structure. You want a promotion under the Ming emperors? You name your kid Cheng’en. You want to show your neighbors you’re up on the latest neo-Confucian trends? You name your kid Jian.
Our desire for individuality is almost always defeated by our desperate need to belong to the dominant tribe.
So the next time you read a historical epic and the protagonist has a profound, noble-sounding name, realize that to the author’s contemporaries, that name was the equivalent of “Jaden.” It wasn’t a mark of deep heritage. It was a neon sign flashing: “I just did what the 16th-century baby name book told me to do.”
The gravitas of our ancestors is a myth. They were trend-chasing, status-seeking conformists, exactly like us.
FAQ
Q: Were historical names really that common, or is this just survivorship bias?
A: It's not survivorship bias; it's documented conformity. Military rosters from the Ming Dynasty show dozens of high-ranking officials sharing the exact same name, proving that status-seeking naming trends are as old as bureaucracy itself.
Q: What does this mean for how we view history?
A: It shatters the illusion of historical gravitas. It reminds us that our ancestors weren't profound philosophers making calculated decisions; they were everyday people trying to climb the social ladder using the trendy buzzwords of their day.
Q: Is trying to give a child a unique name pointless?
A: Yes. The moment a name becomes popular because it sounds "unique," it instantly becomes a conformity signal. True individuality in naming is practically impossible because human nature is hardwired to mimic the tribe.