Preserving my name for posterity

In this column http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a3_385.html we learn from Cecil that the “International Star Registry” is basically a scam.

But instead of a star, what if I wanted a species of plant or animal named after myself? This idea occurred to me as I was doing some research on catfish and stumbled across this page: http://www.planetcatfish.com/cotm/1997-12.htm. Apparently a Brazilian fish exporter had species of catfish named after himself (Corydoras schwartzi), his wife (C. robinae), and his son (C. adolfoi).

Is there a service that pimps out scientists [ahem, I meant to write, “matches interested private donors with deserving scientific researchers”] that would allow me to have my name attached to a newly described species?

What are the protocols for naming a new species?

In general, the first person to discover or describe a new species gets to name it. There are some guidelines; for instance, it ought to sound Latin or Greek. Not that it actally has to be Latin or Greek, mind you, it just has sound like it.

That said, if you want something named after you, your best course of action is to start hanging out with biologists whom you think might be likely to discover new species. Then, when he comes into the bar one day saying he’s found a new variety of speckled moth, and is looking for something to name it, suggest to him that he might call it Mothis chukhungensis.

Hmm, after looking around the Planet Catfish site some more, I came across this little gem:

Sounds to me like asking for a species to be named after you is something of a diplomatic art. I might suggest Mothis chukhungensis, but it might end up M. crassus

No “service” per se, but you have the right idea. For centuries scientists have curried favor with rich donors by naming species after them.

The describer of a newly discovered species has the right to name it, as long as it is done according to the rather detailed rules of the International Committee on Zoological Nomenclature (or of the corresponding body for plants). They can give it a descriptive name, or they can name it after the discoverer, or their mother, paramour (potentially embarassing if you break up), or dog. It is, however, considered very bad form to name it after yourself (although I do not think this is technically invalid.) If the naming is not done according to the rules, the name becomes invalid, and someone else may get to name it.

Many benefactors, patrons, and donors have been immortalized in this way. Historically, this has been a rather informal process. However, recently the naming of a new species of bird - the Choco Vireo, Vireo mastersi, of Colombia - was auctioned off in return for a donation to protect its habitat. I believe the “Yungas Tyrannulet” may still be up for grabs - the last time I checked, the asking price was 10,000 euros.

Your cheapest option is probably to buy a few beers for an insect taxonomist. Some of those guys name so many species they run out of names.

Incidently, Gary Larsen of “The Far Side” has had an owl feather louse named after him.

Some years ago, my uncle, Eugene E. Good was on a research trip in Alaska when he happened upon a previously undocumented leaf hopper. The tiny creature is now known as (genus name) Goodii.

“…and the grasshopper says to the bartender, that’s silly! Why would anyone name a drink Arnie?”

–Nott, who never would have named a drink “Jump Up And Kiss Me”