Danish Child-naming policy

[Harold F. Schiffman]

>>From the New York Times, October 8, 2004

COPENHAGEN JOURNAL
Jens and Vita, but Molli? Danes Favor Common Names
By LIZETTE ALVAREZ

COPENHAGEN - If Denmark somehow morphed into the celebrity epicenter of
the universe, there would be no place for the baby-naming eccentricities
of the world's megastars. Apple Paltrow Martin would be rejected as a
fruit, Jett Travolta as a plane (and misspelled as well), Brooklyn Beckham
as a place, and Rumer Willis, as, well, Danish name investigators would
not even know where to begin with that one.

"Cuba is also a problem,'' said Michael Lerche Nielsen, assistant
professor for the Department of Name Research at Copenhagen University. "I
have to decide: Is this a typical boy or girl name? And that's the problem
with geographical names." In Denmark, a country that embraces rules with
the same gusto that Italy defies them, choosing a first and last name for
a child is a serious, multitiered affair, governed by law and subject to
the approval of the Ministry of Ecclesiastical Affairs and the Ministry of
Family and Consumer Affairs.

At its heart, the Law on Personal Names is designed to protect Denmark's
innocents - the children who are undeservedly, some would say cruelly,
burdened by preposterous or silly names. It is the state's view that
children should not suffer ridicule and abuse because of their parents'
lapses in judgment or their misguided attempts to be hip. Denmark, like
much of Scandinavia, prizes sameness, not uniqueness, just as it values
usefulness, not frivolousness. "You shouldn't stand out from anyone else
here; you shouldn't think you are better than anyone else," said Lan Tan,
a 27, Danish woman of Singaporean and Malaysian descent who is trying to
win approval for her daughter's name, Frida Mei Tan-Farndsen. "It's very
Scandinavian."

While other Scandinavian countries have similar laws, Denmark's is the
strictest. So strict that the Danish Ministry of Justice is proposing to
relax the law to reflect today's Denmark, a place where common-law
marriage is accepted, immigration is growing, and divorce is routine. The
measure, which would add names to the official list, is scheduled for
debate in Parliament in November. "The government, from a historical point
of view, feels a responsibility towards its weak citizens," said Rasmus
Larsen, chief adviser at the Ministry for Ecclesiastical Affairs,
discussing the law. "It doesn't want to see people put in a situation
where they can't defend themselves. We do the same in traffic; we have
people wear seat belts."

People expecting children can choose a pre-approved name from a government
list of 7,000 mostly Western European and English names - 3,000 for boys,
4,000 for girls. A few ethnic names, like Ali and Hassan, have recently
been added. But those wishing to deviate from the official list must seek
permission at their local parish church, where all newborns' names are
registered. A request for an unapproved name triggers a review at
Copenhagen University's Names Investigation Department and at the Ministry
of Ecclesiastical Affairs, which has the ultimate authority. The law only
applies if one of the parents is Danish. Many parents do not realize how
difficult it can be to get a name approved by the government. About 1,100
names are reviewed every year, and 15 percent to 20 percent are rejected,
mostly for odd spellings. Compound surnames, like Tan-Farnsden, also pose
a problem.

Parents who try to be creative by naming their child Jakobp or Bebop or
Ashleiy (three recent applications) are typically stunned when they are
rejected. In some cases, a baby may go without an officially approved name
for weeks, even months, making for irate, already sleep-deprived, parents.
Greg Nagan, 39, and Trine Kammer, 32, thought it would be cute to name
their daughter Molli Malou. To their surprise, Malou was not a problem,
but Molli with an I, which they thought sounded Danish, had to be reviewed
by the government. The church told Ms. Kammer she needed to state in a
letter the reason for choosing Molli. She did so, and said she told the
clerk, "Here's your stupid letter: The reason for naming her Molli is
because we like it."

"Isn't this silly?" Ms. Kammer said. "We love to make everything a rule
here. They love to bureaucratize." The century-old law was initially
designed to bring order to surnames.  Before the law, surnames changed
with every generation: Peter Hansen would name his son Hans Petersen. Then
Hans Petersen would name his son Peter Hansen. And on it went, wreaking
bureaucratic havoc. The law ended that.  It also made it difficult for
people to change their last names, a move that was designed to appease the
noble class, which feared widespread name-poaching by arrivistes, Mr.
Nielsen said.

Then in the 1960's, a furor erupted over the first name Tessa, which
resembled tisse, which means to urinate in Danish. Distressed over the
lack of direction in the law, the Danish government expanded the statute
to grapple with first names. Now the law is as long as an average-size
book. It falls mostly to Mr. Nielsen, at Copenhagen University, to apply
the law and review new names, on a case-by-case basis. In a nutshell, he
said, Danish law stipulates that boys and girls must have different names,
first names cannot also be last names, and bizarre names are O.K. so long
as they are "common."

"Let's say 25 different people" worldwide, he said, a number that was
chosen arbitrarily. How does Mr. Nielsen make that determination? He
searches the Internet. Generally, geographic names are rejected because
they seldom denote gender. Cairo, if it is approved at all, may be
approved for a boy, but then could not be used for a girl. Jordan is a
recent exception to the one-gender rule.

In some cases, Mr. Nielsen says, he believes he is performing a vital
public service. He advised the Ministry that Anus and Pluto be rejected,
for example. He also vetoed Monkey. "That's not a personal name, " Mr.
Nielsen explained. "It's an animal. I have to protect the children from
ridicule." Leica, however, has been approved, as has Benji, Jiminico and
Fee. "People's names have become part of their identities now," Mr.
Nielsen said. "And people change their names the way you change your
clothes or your apartment. It has become more common."

And what about Molli Malou?

Approved, by government decree, just recently.


http://www.nytimes.com/2004/10/08/international/europe/08names.html