Without getting further into the discussion of whether
it's appropriate to name birds (or plants, or mountains, or towns ...)
after people, let me add just a few (mostly tongue-in-cheek)
observations about what happens if bird names change.
I
wondered which ornithologists would get hosed the worst by bird
nomenclature changes, ie, whose name disappears from the most species.
William Swainson's name is on nearly 10 species or subspecies, though
only a few in N.A. Alexander Wilson and John Cassin lose out on at
least five each. (As an aside, per Wikipedia, Wilson died of "chronic
poverty", and Cassin of arsenic poisoning due to handling too many
preserved skins. Clearly ornithology was a tough gig back in those
days.)
I am totally fine with MacGillivray's Warbler changing to something that I can spell correctly consistently.
Along
the same lines, if we don't change Steller's Jay to Crested Conifer
Jay, please make it Stellar Jay so that the majority of the Internet
will be able to spell it right with no further work needed.
If
shooting at birds is a major disqualifier for having them named after
you, presumably gentle ladies such as Lucy, Grace, Anna, and Virginia
are OK to keep "their" warblers and hummingbirds?
And
should we really name birds after jobs, like the "prothonotary", which
was apparently a Byzantine court recorder? I personally think the
alternate name, "Golden Swamp Warbler", rocks.
The
odonates community did a great job when assigning official common names
to dragonflies, handing out descriptive and mellifluous monikers such
as "sundragons" and "boghaunters". Fortunately, "long ass butterfly"
didn't make the cut. Perhaps bird nomenclaturists can do similarly
well.
-Peter Ruprecht, Superior (who, based on my inability to call Marsh Hawks anything more contemporary, will probably keep referring to "Audubon's Warbler" for several more decades after it gets renamed ...)