In 1927, popular carmaker Studebaker introduced its newest model: the Dictator (pictured). The company advertised it as a car that would “dictate the standards” for other automobiles. It might just be the worst name for a car ever selected. Then again, we can’t forget the Mitsubishi Carisma, the Dodge Dart Swinger, and the much-maligned AMC Gremlin. So, how do carmakers settle on names for their vehicles? Naming often comes down to a few things: availability, theme, and messaging. The Honda Prologue, for example, was so named because it represents a new beginning for the company in terms of electric vehicle options. Its Passport is marketed as a rugged off-road vehicle, with the name giving it the needed travel connotations. When Honda released its Civic in 1972, it was referencing the car’s purpose in cities and among citizens. The Accord, which debuted in 1976, was named because Honda wanted to broadcast a desire for accord between people, society, and cars through technology. Toyota, meanwhile, seems to prefer words that can evoke a transformative driving experience. Camry comes from the Japanese word "kanmuri" — meaning "crown"; Corolla is the word for the petals around a flower; Celica is Spanish for celestial. Sometimes, companies simply rely on common consumer product branding strategies like consulting with marketing firms or conducting focus group surveys. Occasionally, companies can sabotage themselves in search of a distinctive brand identity. The Chevy Volt was a 2011 hybrid; the Chevy Bolt was an all-electric released a few years later. Consumers were understandably confused. Meanwhile, with the Studebaker Dictator, common sense eventually prevailed. It was renamed the Studebaker Commander in 1937.
