Ashok Ogra
The names Sandy, Katrina, Emily etc all conjure up the images of hurricanes/typhoons/storms. But have you ever wondered why media refers to most hurricanes and typhoons as “SHE?” Is it something to do partly because of old naval tradition of sailors often dedicating vessels to goddesses or protective female figures? Ships were viewed as nurturing yet unpredictable-a metaphor easily (and perhaps problematically) extended to storms. Or has the practice to do something with the mid-20th century practice of stereotyping women as “unpredictable” and “temperamental,” and that is what hurricanes turn out to be?
No wonder, satirists have added their own twist-quipping that hurricanes are called “she” because they arrive with no warning, leaving you to sort out the mess. Some even joke that “meteorologists name hurricanes, warn about hurricanes, and then seem just as surprised as the rest of us when they actually show up.” Or, in the words of one sharp observer: “Like hurricanes christened with women’s names, some dangers wear a smile before they strike.”
Interestingly, before the 20th century, hurricanes weren’t given personal names at all. They were identified by the places they struck or the saints’ feast days they coincided with. For example, the San Mateo Hurricane of 1565 was named so because it made landfall on September 22, the day after St. Matthew’s feast. Similarly, Puerto Rico was hit by Hurricane Santa Ana in 1825 and San Felipe in 1876. The Great Galveston Hurricane of 1900, which killed as many as 12,000 people, was simply referred to by its location. The San Felipe hurricane was remembered by its date on the religious calendar.
The United States followed this convention until the early 1900s when an eccentric Australian meteorologist named Clement Wragge began the practice of giving cyclones personal names. Wragge, known for his flamboyant personality, sometimes named storms after women, mythological figures, and-famously-politicians he disliked. His actions were partly scientific and partly mischievous.
It was during the mid-20th century when meteorologists for the first time started assigning exclusively female names to hurricanes. During World War II, American meteorologists stationed in the Pacific assumed that assigning women’s names to storms made communication quicker and more effective over radios, especially when multiple storms were active at once. It was simpler and clearer than relying on cumbersome coordinates or dates.
In 1953, the National Weather Service formalized the system in the Atlantic, adopting alphabetical lists of female names for hurricanes. But the fact remains that the decision to name hurricanes exclusively after women was not just about communication clarity-it also reflected the gender attitudes of the last century. Archival reports from the era suggest that some weathermen intentionally chose women’s names-often those of ex-wives or ex-girlfriends-to personify storms as vengeful or temperamental.
It was wrongly believed that storms wouldn’t be taken seriously unless their names conjured images of feminine fury. The storms were described in broadcast reports using sexist clichés: hurricanes “teased coastal towns,” “flirted with Florida,” or “lashed out” like an angry woman scorned. The Washington Post editorial published in 1968 raised huge controversy when it argued that male-named hurricanes lacked the “romance” or “urgency” of female-named storms-a statement loaded with the same gender biases that had fueled the system in the first place.
By the 1970s, feminist activists had had enough. One of the most vocal opponents of the practice was Roxcy Bolton, a trailblazing Florida feminist who founded the nation’s first rape treatment center. Bolton famously suggested that if storms were going to be personified, they should be called “HIM-ICANES” too. “Women,” she said, “deeply resent being arbitrarily associated with disaster.”
Her advocacy, along with pressure from other women’s groups, eventually forced a change. In 1979, the National Weather Service revised the system to include male names. The lists alternated between male and female names in alphabetical order-a pattern that continues today.
Meanwhile, researchers lacking scientific rationale argued that when a hurricane was named “Katrina” or “Emily,” the public-especially men-underestimated its severity, leading to fewer precautions being taken. As one writer put it: “…the gentlest names can hide the fiercest storms.”
When storms bore male names like “Ike” or “Andrew,” the response was more serious and immediate. This fatal gap between perception and reality highlights how deeply gender stereotypes affect human behavior-even in life-or-death scenarios. Or, as another observer succinctly put it: “She wore the name of a flower, but her winds uprooted forests.”
Today, the World Meteorological Organization (WMO) manages the official hurricane naming lists. There are six rotating lists for the Atlantic region, each containing 21 names in alphabetical order (letters like Q, U, X, Y, and Z are skipped for practical reasons). After six years, the lists repeat-unless a storm is so devastating that its name is retired permanently, like Katrina or Harvey.
Names are selected to be short, distinct, and culturally relevant, allowing for easy pronunciation across different countries and languages. The current system is international and collaborative, a far cry from the earlier, more ad-hoc-and often biased-methods.
Typhoons in much of East Asia are named based on an international list managed by the Typhoon Committee. Each of the 14 member countries (including China, Philippines, Japan, Thailand, etc.) contributes names–often cultural words, animals, and flowers. Names are used sequentially, regardless of year. Examples include Wipha, Mangkhut, Haishen, Noul, Lingling, etc.
The India Meteorological Department (IMD) manages naming for the entire North Indian Ocean. Thirteen countries, including India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, and Pakistan, submit lists of cyclone names. The names are chosen to reflect regional languages and cultures, ensuring inclusivity and reducing confusion. From the Bhola Cyclone of 1970 that ravaged Bangladesh to the 1999 Super Cyclone that devastated the Odisha coast and the Cyclone Nargis in 2008 that lashed Myanmar,the Indian Ocean has witnessed some of the deadliest storms in recorded history.
The history of naming storms is filled with contradictions and cultural quirks. From ancient sailors invoking gods and saints, to Australian meteorologists mocking politicians, to American weathermen using names of their ex-wives-the practice has always reflected human anxieties and prejudices as much as scientific necessity.
While today’s system is fairer and more systematic, the legacy of those earlier, stormy biases lingers in language, media, and sometimes even in disaster preparedness. But calling a hurricane “she” still shows up in jokes and news stories. Few plead that if a storm is going to make a mess, it might as well do it with a little drama!
Be prepared-when the next hurricane forms over the Atlantic or the Bay of Bengal, the name it carries will have passed through a complex national and international process designed to be fair, inclusive, and easily understood. But behind that name lies a history of storms-not just of wind and water, but of culture, prejudice, and change. Regardless of what names they carry, hurricanes will continue to arrive with the same force- reminding one of Mark Twain:”you can’t reason with a hurricane.”.
(The author works for reputed Apeejay Education, New Delhi)
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