The Internet Movie Database, a subsidiary of Amazon.com, recently acquired a film distribution company called Withoutabox. Amazon.com has a digital movie download service called Unbox. These names just make too cute a pair for The Name Inspector to ignore, and bring up some grammatical issues that he expects will delight and amuse you. OK, he hopes they won’t bore you to desperate tears. Please bear with him.

Let’s start with the basics. In The Name Inspector’s typology of names, Withoutabox is a phrase name. A prepositional phrase, more specifically. Without is the preposition, and a box is a noun phrase that serves as its object.

To think about the meanings of a phrase name, you need to consider not only the meanings of the words in the phrase and how they go together, but also the ways that the phrase as a whole might be used in a sentence. This is especially true of prepositional phrases, because the main function of a preposition is to make it clear how its noun phrase object fits into a larger context.

Semantically speaking, the function of without is to indicate absence–in this case, of a box. Grammatically, without can connect that absence-of-a-box meaning to a larger context in two main ways: as an adverbial (a modifier of a verb or verb phrase), or as a postnominal modifier (a modifier of a noun that occurs after the noun). An example of the adverbial use of without a box is “Distribute your movies without a box”, where it modifies the distributing. An example of the postnominal modifier use is “This is a movie without a box”, where it modifies the movie.

In this context the two interpretations amount to more or less the same thing. As the website states, “Withoutabox declares all members of the film community to be free from restrictive distribution channels”. One aspect of this freedom is the fact that members do not have to put a film or tape or disc into a box and load it on a truck in order to get it in front of viewers. So the name Withoutabox works mainly through metonymy: it focuses on a small, literally descriptive detail–the idea or image of a movie that’s not in a box–and uses it to stand for a much larger scenario–a distribution system that’s not constrained by physical distance and scarcity.

Withoutabox has a hint of metaphorical meaning, too. The name is reminiscent of the phrase outside the box, that tired cliché that many of us–especially business types–drag out when we want to encourage innovative thinking. (Nothing is deeper inside the box than the phrase outside the box.)

The Name Inspector doesn’t know for certain how this cliché got started. There’s the obvious use of a centrality metaphor for normalcy, with normal being in the middle, as in middle of the road, and abnormal being out there, marginal, edgy, on the fringes, etc. There’s also a related containment metaphor, in which being inside the container is conforming to group behavior, and being outside is being different. But The Name Inspector read somewhere that the phrase think outside the box actually relates to an old brain teaser involving a square made out of nine dots drawn on a piece of paper. The idea is that you’re supposed to draw lines through all the dots by making only four lines and not lifting your pen from the paper.

Remember, think outside the box!

Though Withoutabox is kind of a long name, it has a fast, familiar pronunciation, similar to that expression of confident certainty without a doubt, that’s encouraged by the spaceless orthography.

Unbox

The name Unbox is deceptively simple. It seems to be shorter version of Withoutabox, providing a straightforward description of one aspect of downloadable movies in order to highlight the benefits of digital distribution.

But wait a minute. The prefix un- usually attaches to a verb (undo, unwind, etc.) or an adjective (unkind, unacceptable, etc.) to make a syntactically similar word with the opposite meaning. The most natural way to interpret Unbox is as a verb meaning ‘to take out of a box’ (comparable to the verb uncage ‘to take or let out of a cage’).

A verb prefixed with un- usually denotes the reversal of the action denoted by the unprefixed verb. You can wrap something and unwrap it, tie something and untie it, and so forth. So the verbs that un- attaches to denote actions with results that can be reversed.

In this context, however, unbox is being used, at least on the most literal level, in reference to something that has never been in a box–namely, a downloadable digital movie. So the name Unbox is less direct than it first appears: it evokes an imaginary scenario of taking something out of a box in order to emphasize the absence of a box and all that implies. If the name were Unboxed, this wouldn’t be the case. The past participle unboxed can simply describe something that you might expect to be in a box but isn’t. With adjectives and past participles (that is, adjectives made out of verbs), un- basically means ‘not’ (uncool, undisclosed, unanticipated, etc.). Something can be unguarded even though you can’t unguard it. But Unbox requires us to imagine an act of unboxing. We might think of this name as more of a philosophical exhortation than a physical description. Free yourself from the tyranny of the box!

So even the meaning of an unassuming name like Unbox requires you to use your imagination a little bit.

Tags: victrola, coffee, cafe, coffeehouse, sign, signs, capitol-hill, capitolhill, seattle

Microsoft recently unveiled Surface, a tabletop computer with an amazing multi-touch interface. There’s no keyboard or mouse–you interact with Surface through its display, which is touch-sensitive and can respond to simultaneous touches from multiple fingers or people. That means you can “grab” objects and move them around, re-size photos by stretching them out with your fingers, and do other things that seem kind of like magic.

These multi-touch interfaces are really exciting. Jeff Han, a consulting research scientist in NYU’s Department of Computer Science, gave a jaw-dropping demo of his multi-touch technology that The Name Inspector caught at ETech 2006. Here’s a video for a similar demo at TED 2006. Judging from the videos on Microsoft’s website, Surface is a simpler, consumer-oriented implementation of the same idea, with the added capability of interacting with devices, like cellphones and digital music players, that are placed on top of it.

The name Surface is about as generic as you can get without actually naming a product category. The other Microsoft brand name that it most resembles is Word. Each of these names is based on a noun that literally refers to something associated with the product in question–both names use metonymy. However, while Word is a relatively concrete reference to an aspect of language (about as concrete as you can get where language is concerned), Surface has a very abstract, schematic meaning.

The word surface is an intrinsically relational noun–we seldom talk about a surface unless we specify what it is a surface of (a planet, the cerebral cortex, etc.). One of the interesting things about the name Surface is that it takes this relational meaning and makes it stand on its own–now we can talk about owning a Surface, without specifying what it is the surface of. Because the name is a reification of an abstract spatial concept, it suggests the gray area between the real and the virtual. This is perfect for the product, which allows people to interact with virtual objects on the screen as if they were physically present: touching them, moving them, spreading them out, etc.

Of course, it would be a mistake to link this technology directly to the idea of a tabletop computer. Microsoft envisions a future of surface computing in which the technology will be found on lots of things besides tabletops–including even “the hallway mirror”. So this name is an attempt to define a new category and to own it.

The word surface has a some other positive features. It contains the word surf, making a pretty explicit connection to the web (something Microsoft has been especially interested in doing lately). It also has appropriate sound symbolism for a multi-touch interface. All its consonants are voiceless fricatives, which have a hissing sound that suggests movement with light friction.

The word surface is not an unalloyed asset, however. Its big downside is its conventional metaphorical connection to the ideas of superficiality and potentially deceptive appearances. When we scratch the surface of a topic, we investigate or discuss it in the sketchiest of terms, without engaging with most of what there is to know about it. When we say that something seems one way on the surface, there’s a strong implication that it’s different deep inside.

Metaphorically speaking, however, a system’s user interface is its surface. The suitability of the word in this context trumps the possible negative associations. The Name Inspector would be happy to delve into the world of surface computing, and can’t wait until Surface–or some other competing product–is available at a consumer-friendly price.

Tags: surface, the name surface, microsoft surface, the name microsoft surface, microsoft word, multi-touch, touch-sensitive, tabletop computer

On Monday The Name Inspector hosted a Biznik workshop and everyone discussed the name of the popular photo-sharing site Flickr. It’s an interesting case study in selecting a real word to serve as a business name.

The word flicker clearly evokes scenarios associated with light and photography. One person said it reminded her of movie projectors and old movies. Someone else thought of the light that flickers on a camera before the flash to prevent red eye. Another person imagined a bunch of flashbulbs going off at once, like what you see near the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Another thought of flames.

Everyone agreed that the associations with light are strong and appropriate. There were, however, some less positive reactions. Several people, The Name Inspector included, took issue with the unreliability associated with the word flicker. Lights tend to flicker when there’s a bad electrical connection or when the power is about to go out. Dying flames flicker. This association might tend to undermine confidence in a web application–those things are, let’s be frank, prone to have some technical problems from time to time. On the other hand, the dynamic quality of flickering light can be a positive, and the association with flame suggests warmth and soft, beautiful light.

Of course, no discussion of the name Flickr would be complete without some mention of that missing e. Misspelled names often seem cheesy, as if they should appear in those late-night TV commercials that flash 1-800 numbers on the screen. Think of Krazy Glue, for example. Flickr does not completely escape that fate. Right now it may still have a certain cutting-edge sheen, but that’s unlikely to last with all the imitators it’s inspired: WishListr, Zooomr, Gabbr, Frappr, Flagr, etc. See even more over at Brand Dialogue.

It seems only fair to say a few words in defense of the misspelling, though. Of course, it’s an understandable response to the extreme difficulty and/or expense of getting a real word as a domain name. Instead of forking over the big bucks to someone who happened to register a word but has nothing better to do with it than serve up a bunch of random ads (which The Name Inspector is by no means encouraging you to click on), why not come up with a creative work-around? This particular misspelling works pretty well, because the er in flicker just stands for a syllabic r sound, which makes the e superfluous from a phonetic point of view. Leaving it out doesn’t make the name difficult to pronounce, and is reminiscent of the abbreviated spelling used in text messaging, which might even make it a little hip.

There was a pretty strong consensus in our group that Flickr offers such a fun and useful service that the potential weaknesses of the name pale in comparison to the strengths. People just like Flickr, and that makes them very forgiving.

Tags: flickr, the name flickr, photos, photo-sharing, misspelling, wishlistr, zooomr, gabbr, frappr, flagr, copycats, copycat names

The name Skype combines the familiar and the peculiar. Though there’s that unmistakable word sky in there, the end of the name is a bit of a mystery. On the Skype forum, an employee reveals that the name was derived from the expression sky peer-to-peer, which was shortened to Skyper and then to Skype. So this is a kind of a blend, but a rather unusual one.

What makes Skype unusual? First, while sky peer-to-peer is an extremely descriptive name for a peer-to-peer telephony service that works worldwide, the -pe portion of Skype is almost impossible to associate with peer-to-peer unless you’re told to. So Skype is really more like a tweak of the word sky. When looked at that way, the name is still unusual because the addition of a single consonant to the end of a word (The Name Inspector is talking about the pronunciation here, not the spelling) is a very uncommon naming strategy. No tweaked word names on the TechCrunch index list or the alternative search engine list are derived that way.

For that reason, some people might interpret Skype as a more conventional blend of sky with something that rhymes with Skype, like hype–or pipe, ripe, type, wipe. etc. Of these, pipe is the most positive association that’s at all relevant. But why the word sky? Well, aside from the general positive associations (sunshine, heaven, height=excellence/goodness, etc.), it seems to be a metonymic reference to communication signals as they exist in the popular imagination–flying around in the air. Since this is internet telephony we’re talking about, however, it seems just as likely that the signals would be flying around in cables of various kinds.

Another notable thing about Skype is its historical origin. Like many common English words that begin with sk- (e.g. skill, skin, skirt), sky has its roots in Old Norse. Maybe that’s one reason the Scandinavian founders chose this word for their company name. This distinctly Germanic provenance actually makes Skype stand out a little in the crowd of tech names, which tend, like scientific terms, to be derived at least partly from Latin or Greek. It gives Skype a basic and old quality, which is enhanced by the fact that the name is a single strong syllable.

The simplicity of the name Skype is its greatest asset. It makes the technology seem like a basic necessity that no one should do without, like a desk, a plate, a sink, or some other everyday item with a one-syllable name. It’s almost as if someone discovered a short and useful but long-forgotten English word and reclaimed it. That’s really quite a naming achievement.

Tags: skype, the name skype, skyper, sky peer-to-peer, sky, telephony, internet telephony, VoIP, etymology, Germanic, Old Norse

Tinfinger is intended to be to the Who’s Who what Wikipedia was to the
Encyclopedia Britannica. Its main function is a search engine of
biographical information on famous and semi-famous public figures. It
also has news aggregation features similar to Techmeme, based around
people’s names instead of hyperlink hierarchies.

The name Tinfinger is a portmanteau, of course. Tin is the Vietnamese
word for news, and finger is the name of a Unix command
<http://kb.iu.edu/data/aasp.html> to find out information about a
person. (One of the founders is originally from Vietnam via England, the
other an Aussie.) Tin also has other meanings, especially when used as a
prefix to denote falseness, e.g. “tin god”, referencing the superficial
cult of celebrity. The site’s mascot is a little black robot called Ned
whose backstory is as a put-upon slave to his human masters, so the
site’s name also references the robotic nature of the news aggregation
features which work through the fingers of mythical robot employees.
Finally, the name also recalls the Bond film character Goldfinger,
giving an extra pop culture nuance.

Is it possible to have though too much about a name?

This is one of the geekiest and most thought-out startup names that The Name Inspector has come across. The elaborate backstory with the robot workers is pretty entertaining. It’s odd that a search engine focusing on people has a non-human mascot, but it makes a kind of twisted sense.

Something really interesting about this name is that it works on different levels for different audiences. The metonymic (or, more specifically, synechdochic) reference to robots and the allusion to the Bond movie/character are widely accessible to the English-speaking world. Then there are inside jokes for geeks and speakers of Vietnamese. They’re almost like verbal Easter eggs. On this level the name is enigmatic to many people, but they don’t know it. It’s crypto-enigmatic.

The name Tinfinger is self-deprecating almost to the point of being risky. This comes of course from the association the word tin has with cheapness and falseness. If you imagine singing the theme song to the James Bond film Goldfinger saying Tinfinger instead, you can’t help but notice how much self-mocking there is in this name. But if presented with the right humor, this kind of over-the-top modesty can be disarming. The design of the Tinfinger logo hits just the right note with its construction-paper-cutout-style letters and its little cartoon robot. Is it The Name Inspector’s imagination, or are those supposed to be robot and human skin tones in that logo?

In the typology of names, Tinfinger counts as a compound rather than a portmanteau (blend), because it consists of two whole words rather than word parts. The sound is natural and easy, and gets a little poetry from the near-rhyme of the first two syllables. In the orthography this is reflected in the repetition of in, and enhanced by the similarity of the letters T and f.

The name Tinfinger conjures up an entertaining vision that helps us imagine how the underlying search technology works. The Name Inspector can’t wait to see what those robots can do with their tinny little fingers.

Tags: Tinfinger, the name Tinfinger, search, people search, robots

As a denizen of the Emerald City, the Name Inspector has been intrigued by the meteoric rise of the online real estate service Zillow, and has speculated on the origins of their name. Those speculations, though enjoyable, have turned out to be pointless, because it says right there on their website how they came up with the name. Zillow is a blend (or, to be old-fashioned and French about it, a portmanteau) of zillions (as in “zillions of data points”) and pillow (a metonymic reference to home–where you rest your head).

Because blend names are based on real words, they often have a familiar ring to them. They can be especially seamless and elegant when, as in this name, they overlap through rhyming syllables.

Zillow adds an unusual first letter and sound z to an unusual and especially mellow-sounding word ending -illow. The only common two-syllable words that the Name Inspector can think of right now that share that ending are pillow, willow, and billow. Willow regularly shows up on lists of the most beautiful-sounding English words. Two qualities that make it beautiful are its symmetry (beginning and ending with w) and its high sonority (that is, its lack of sounds that obstruct the flow of air through the vocal tract). Both qualities are diminished when the z replaces the w, but the name still sounds pretty good. The Z is distinctive, but the company goes overboard applying it to other names for specific services: Zillow alone says “cool”, but Zindex and Zestimate tagging along say “zzz”.

Because both zill- and -illow are unusual word-halves and don’t evoke many competing meanings, Zillow brings to mind zillion and pillow surprisingly well. Even if you don’t get the “right” association for -illow, you’re bound to get an appropriate one: willow suggests yards or gardens, and billow suggests sailboats and, by association, wealth. Not bad.

Tags: Zillow, the name Zillow, Zindex, Zestimate, real estate