Since humanity first gazed at the night sky and distinguished the fixed stars from the wanderers, we have felt an irresistible urge to name these celestial bodies. The naming of asteroids, those smaller denizens of our solar system, charts a fascinating journey from ancient reverence to modern recognition, reflecting our evolving culture, science, and even our sense of humor. These rocky or metallic objects, mostly found orbiting the Sun between Mars and Jupiter, were once just faint points of light, but each name attached to them tells a story.
Echoes of Antiquity: The First Named Wanderers
The story of asteroid naming begins in the very early 19th century. On January 1, 1801, Giuseppe Piazzi at the Palermo Observatory spotted the first, and largest, asteroid: Ceres. Following a tradition established for planets, he named it after a Roman deity, specifically the goddess of agriculture. This set an immediate precedent. When the next three were discovered shortly thereafter – Pallas (1802), Juno (1804), and Vesta (1807) – they too received names drawn from classical mythology, all powerful goddesses from the Greek and Roman pantheons. Pallas Athene was the Greek goddess of wisdom, Juno the Roman queen of the gods, and Vesta the Roman goddess of hearth and home.
This initial adherence to feminine mythological figures seemed fitting for these new, somewhat demure celestial bodies, distinct from the grand, masculine names of most planets known at the time. Sir William Herschel, who coined the term “asteroid” meaning “star-like,” noted their point-like appearance in telescopes, unlike planets which showed discs. The choice of names from myth and legend imbued these new discoveries with a sense of grandeur and connected them to a long history of sky-watching and storytelling. However, the supply of prominent goddesses was, naturally, finite.
Expanding the Celestial Roster
For several decades after the first four, no new asteroids were found. But as telescopic technology improved in the mid-1800s, discoveries began to pick up pace. Astronomers soon found themselves running out of A-list goddesses. The naming conventions had to adapt. The pool was broadened to include minor goddesses, nymphs, and other female figures from classical mythology. For instance, (5) Astraea was named for a Greek goddess of justice, and (6) Hebe for the Greek goddess of youth.
Eventually, the strict adherence to female names was relaxed. The discovery of (433) Eros in 1898, an asteroid notable for its Earth-approaching orbit, marked a significant shift as it was given a male mythological name, the Greek god of love. This opened the door for heroes and other male figures. Another notable early male name was (719) Albert, named after Baron Albert von Rothschild, a benefactor of the Vienna Observatory, though this was an exception leaning towards honoring people rather than pure mythology. The asteroid (944) Hidalgo, discovered in 1920 and named after the Mexican revolutionary Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, was one of the first to explicitly honor a historical, non-mythological male figure, though with a distinct connection to the discoverer’s region or interests.
The Photographic Revolution and a Naming Deluge
The late 19th century brought a technological game-changer to astronomy: photography. Max Wolf at Heidelberg Observatory pioneered the use of astrophotography to find asteroids from 1891 onwards. By taking long-exposure photographs, asteroids would appear as streaks against the backdrop of fixed stars. This method dramatically increased the discovery rate. Suddenly, astronomers weren’t just finding a few new asteroids per year; they were finding dozens, then hundreds. This “vermin of the skies,” as some exasperated astronomers called them due to their tendency to clutter photographic plates, all needed tracking and, eventually, names.
The sheer volume of new objects necessitated a more organized system. Initially, discoverers had considerable freedom, but as the numbers swelled, the potential for confusion and duplication grew. This led to the gradual formalization of the naming process. The International Astronomical Union (IAU), founded in 1919, eventually took on the official role of overseeing the nomenclature of all celestial bodies, including asteroids, or minor planets as they are also known. Before an asteroid gets a name, it first receives a provisional designation based on its discovery date (e.g., 1999 RQ36), and then, once its orbit is well-determined, a permanent number.
From Gods to Groundbreaking Individuals: A New Era of Names
As the 20th century progressed, the unwritten rule of purely mythological names eroded further. While classical names were still common, astronomers began to propose names of their colleagues, mentors, spouses, and even places of significance. This shift reflected a desire to honor individuals who had contributed to science or to create more personal connections with these distant objects. (1000) Piazzia, for example, honored Giuseppe Piazzi, the discoverer of Ceres. (522) Helga was named for the niece of a German astronomer.
This diversification was not immediate or without discussion, but the increasing number of discoveries made it almost inevitable. The old mythological wells were running dry, and the new names offered a way to celebrate human achievement and connection in a tangible, if remote, way. The cosmos was becoming a canvas for human history and relationships, not just ancient myths. The criteria broadened, mirroring a world increasingly interconnected and appreciative of diverse contributions beyond the battlefield or the temple.
Once an asteroid receives its permanent number from the Minor Planet Center, its discoverer is invited to suggest a name. This suggestion is then reviewed by the IAU’s Working Group Small Body Nomenclature (WGSBN). The WGSBN ensures names are unique, generally non-offensive, adhere to established guidelines, and are not overly commercial. Only after their approval is the name made official and published in the Minor Planet Circulars.
The Modern Lexicon: Crafting Asteroid Identities
Today, the naming of asteroids is a well-defined process managed by the IAU’s Working Group Small Body Nomenclature (WGSBN), formerly known as the Committee on Small Body Nomenclature (CSBN). After an asteroid’s orbit is securely determined and it receives a permanent number, the discoverer (or discovering team) has the privilege of proposing a name. This proposal is then submitted to the WGSBN for approval.
Guiding Principles for Celestial Monikers
The WGSBN has a set of guidelines to ensure that asteroid names are appropriate and useful. While not overly restrictive, they aim to maintain a certain dignity and order in the celestial catalog. Key guidelines include:
- Names should preferably be a single word, though multi-word names run together (e.g., Jamesbond) are common.
- They should be pronounceable in some language.
- Names must not be offensive or have overly political, military, or religious significance (especially for events or figures from the last 100 years for political/military contexts).
- They should not be too similar to existing asteroid or natural satellite names to avoid confusion.
- Names of pets are generally discouraged, unless the pet itself has achieved some independent fame (a very rare occurrence).
- Commercial names or names that are primarily advertising are not allowed.
- There are length recommendations, typically no more than 16 characters.
These rules ensure that the naming process, while allowing for creativity, doesn’t descend into chaos or triviality. Special categories of asteroids, like Trojans (which share Jupiter’s orbit) or Apollo asteroids (Earth-crossers), often have their own thematic naming conventions (e.g., Trojan asteroids are named after heroes of the Trojan War).
A Celestial Hall of Fame: Honoring Humanity
One of the most wonderful aspects of modern asteroid naming is the opportunity to honor individuals from all walks of life who have made significant contributions or captured the public imagination. The skies are now dotted with names that form a diverse tapestry of human endeavor. Scientists, writers, artists, musicians, educators, humanitarians, and even influential fictional characters have found their place among the stars.
This practice turns the asteroid belt into a unique kind of hall of fame. It is a way for the scientific community, and indeed humanity, to pay lasting tribute. These are not just random rocks; they become celestial memorials, carrying names that inspire or remind us of particular achievements or cultural moments.
Examples Across Disciplines
The range of honorees is truly vast and reflects a global culture. Consider these few examples:
- Scientists: (2001) Einstein for Albert Einstein, (5020) Asimov for Isaac Asimov (also a writer), (3062) Wren for Christopher Wren (architect and astronomer).
- Artists and Musicians: (1815) Beethoven for Ludwig van Beethoven, (4147) Lennon and (4148) McCartney for John Lennon and Paul McCartney of The Beatles, (3834) Zappafrank for Frank Zappa.
- Writers: (2985) Shakespeare for William Shakespeare, (7902) Hanff for Helene Hanff, (8379) Straczynski for J. Michael Straczynski.
- Fictional Characters and Creators: (2309) Mrspock (from Star Trek), (9007) Jamesbond (for the iconic spy), (12818) Tomhanks (actor), (46610) Besixdouze (referencing planet B-612 from “The Little Prince”).
- Explorers and Humanitarians: (8291) Bingham for Hiram Bingham III, credited with popularizing Machu Picchu.
Each name carries a story, a legacy. Flying through the asteroid belt, if one could, would be like navigating a library of human achievement and imagination. These names help to personalize the cosmos, making it feel a little closer and more connected to our terrestrial experiences.
Whimsy Among the Stars: The Lighter Side of Naming
While many names are serious tributes, the IAU guidelines also allow for a delightful degree of whimsy and creativity. Astronomers, after all, are human, and sometimes they just want to have a bit of fun. This has led to some truly memorable and often amusing asteroid names, provided they don’t violate the core principles of being offensive or overly commercial.
Examples of these more playful names abound: (2037) Tripaxeptalis (tri-pax-ept-alis, or 3 times 697, the discoverer’s observatory number for asteroid Pax), (2675) Tolkien (for J.R.R. Tolkien), (6042) Cheshirecat (from Alice in Wonderland), (9949) Brontosaurus (though paleontologists later decided Brontosaurus wasn’t a distinct genus, the asteroid name stuck!), (13579) Allodd, and (24680) Alleven. There’s also (4321) Zero, (6543) Senna, and (8765) Limosa. Sometimes names are in-jokes, puns, or simply expressions of joy. Asteroid (25924) Douglasadams honors the author of “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to The Galaxy,” a fitting tribute to a master of cosmic humor.
The Discoverer’s Prerogative
The privilege of suggesting a name for a newly numbered asteroid traditionally falls to its discoverer or the principal investigator of the discovery survey. This is a cherished tradition in astronomy, offering a personal touch to the scientific process. Discoverers often choose names that are deeply meaningful to them: they might honor a mentor, a family member, a beloved pet (though this is now harder to get approved unless the pet is famous), a place of personal significance, or someone they admire.
This personal connection imbues the naming process with a human element. It’s not just about cataloging objects; it’s about weaving a personal narrative into the grand tapestry of the cosmos. This right is usually valid for ten years after the asteroid is numbered. If the discoverer does not propose a name within that time, the privilege may pass to others, or the WGSBN might select a name, particularly for asteroids with unusual or scientifically important properties.
An Ever-Expanding Dictionary of the Cosmos
With hundreds of thousands of asteroids numbered and many millions more suspected to exist, the task of naming is far from over. Each new name adds another entry to our ever-expanding celestial dictionary. These names are more than just labels; they are markers of our curiosity, our history, our heroes, and our humor. They transform cold, distant rocks into points of connection, reflecting what we value and what we wish to remember.
The journey of asteroid naming, from the goddesses of antiquity to the scientists, artists, and even fictional characters of today, mirrors our own journey of exploration and understanding. As we continue to scan the skies and uncover more of these small worlds, the list of names will grow, creating an even richer and more diverse monument to human culture scattered amongst the planets. It’s a testament to our enduring desire to leave our mark, to name the unknown, and in doing so, to make the vast universe feel a little more like home.
