Just as nature abhors a vacuum, humans can’t stand things not having names.
As soon as naturalists spy a never-before-seen creature or explorers stumble upon a new land, they set about christening their discoveries. This undeniable urge has led to some, shall we say, issues over the naming of exoplanets, the worlds beyond our solar system.
For the past 22 years, ever since finding the first exoplanets, researchers have generally preferred alphanumeric scientific designations blessed by the International Astronomical Union (IAU) — we’re talking exoplanetary handles like UScoCTIO 108b and TrES-3b. But now that scientists are finding thousands of new worlds, the populace is rising up to demand more prosaic names.
The ruckus over popular exoplanetary names finally reached a boiling point last year. The startup company Uwingu (meaning “sky” in Swahili), composed of several prominent astronomers — and IAU members — publicly thumbed its nose at the IAU. It held a contest to name the closest exoplanet, designated (by the IAU, of course) as Alpha Centauri Bb. The contest doubled as a fundraiser for space exploration, research and education, charging $4.99 for name nominations and 99 cents for votes, and yielded such names as Rakhat and Caleo.
The IAU denounced the contest as a “name-selling campaign,” saying such projects “have no bearing on the official naming process.” Uwingu bristled and responded with fightin’ words: “The IAU has no purview — informal or official — to control popular naming of bodies in the sky or features on them.”
