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In the plant world, botanists prefer discussing species using their Latin names. That’s partially because many plant species, among the 3,500 that grow in Illinois alone, have been given various monikers.

For example, Rudbeckia hirta has been called black-eyed Susan, brown-eyed Susan, yellow daisy, and brown Betty, among others. The colloquial names are fun, but can be confusing, because there’s also a plant called brown-eyed Susan, which is different from the black-eyed Susan.

Hirta is Latin for hairy, and the plant’s stems do feel rough to the touch. Brown-eyed Susan’s Latin name is Rudbeckia triloba, referring to the lower leaves of the plant, which have three lobes.

For further proof that using Latin names makes more sense, at least for plants, consider the sneezeweed. Blooming in late summer and early fall, the native plant doesn’t make you sneeze. Its common name may refer to the possible use of its dried leaves to make snuff that causes sneezing when inhaled.

Its Latin name, Helenium autumnale, is so much more charming. Autumnale refers to the time at which it blooms. The genus name Helenium comes from a legend that the flowers grew where Greek mythological queen Helen of Troy shed tears on the ground.

Sneezeweed is more compact than the black-eyed Susan with shorter, toothed yellow petals and a yellow central disk.  It grows in moist areas such as along pond and marsh edges. We have some growing in a wet area in our front yard. They’re not as common as the black-eyed Susan, which grows in much more varied habitats, including in many parts of our property.

Sneezeweed does not make you sneeze. Its Latin name, Helenium autumnale, is more appropriate, referring to its autumn flowering time. (Steven D. Bailey/For the Lake County News-Sun)
Sneezeweed does not make you sneeze. Its Latin name, Helenium autumnale, is more appropriate, referring to its autumn flowering time. (Steven D. Bailey/For the Lake County News-Sun)

Though plants have many common names, bird species only have one strict and standardized common name, which makes for easier identification and reference.  Ornithologists all know that an American robin is one particular species, even if some folks call it robin redbreast.

Still, the Latin names of birds sound more regal. The yellow-headed blackbird’s Latin name is Xanthocephalus xanthocephalus. Xantho means yellow, and cephalus refers to the head.  This species is endangered in Illinois. It deserves a proper Latin name.

The American robin’s Latin name is rather banal: Turdus migratorius. Turdus does not mean turd, but rather thrush in Latin. Turdus migratorius means a thrush that migrates, but other thrush species besides robins also migrate.

If you remember from science class, the 18th century Swedish scientist Carl Linnaeus created what he called binomial nomenclature, a system to name specific organisms. He gave each species two Latin-type words. The first referred to the family to which a species belonged, and the second delineated exactly which species.

Before then, plants and animals had long descriptive phrases. For example, a single plant species was called “Plantago foliis ovato-lanceolatus pubescentibus, spica cylindrica, scapo terete,” loosely translated to mean “a plantain with hairy egg- to lance-shaped leaves, a cylindrical flower spike and a round, smooth leafless stem.”

Today, it’s simply Plantago media, thanks to Linnaeus. The common name is hoary plantain, and it’s native to central Europe.

If you’re a geeky amateur naturalist like I am, you may enjoy rolling the Latin names of species off your tongue. Liquidambar styraciflua is just so fun to say. The common name is sweetgum. Its Latin name comes from two words meaning fragrant liquid, and the tree does exude an aromatic resin.

Over the years, scientists have changed some common and Latin names of certain organisms.  Linnaeus named the northern cardinal Loxia cardinalis in 1758; its name changed in the early 1800s to Cardinalis virginianus, and it wasn’t until 1983 that it was changed to its current Latin name, Cardinalis cardinalis.

Today, Latin and common names of organisms, including plants and birds, are often changed based on DNA studies, a technique pioneered circa 1975.

Most recently, genetic studies prompted ornithologists to change the common name of yellow warbler to northern yellow warbler and the Latin name from Setophaga petechial to Setophaga aestiva. Aestiva means summer and distinguishes this species, which breeds in the U.S., including Illinois, and migrates south for winter, from another species, the mangrove yellow warbler.

It lives year-round in coastal scrublands in Mexico, Central America, and South America. Now the northern yellow warbler and mangrove yellow warbler are two different species with different scientific names.

The same thing is happening in the plant world. For example, the herb rosemary, which was Rosmarinus officinalis, was recently changed to Salvia rosmarinus. The decision was based on new molecular studies.

A contingent of botanists and ornithologists is also working to change Latin and common monikers of plants and birds if the species was named after a person, especially if that person was proven to be unethical. (More on that later.)

There’s one Latin name of an organism that will likely always remain the same: Homo sapiens. It’s the Latin name Linnaeus created for human beings in 1758. I leave you to ponder its translation: “wise man.”

Sheryl DeVore has worked as a full-time and freelance reporter, editor, and photographer for the baiduhai and its subsidiaries. She’s the author of several books on nature and the environment, and co-author of a coming book on “Birds of the Midwest,” to be published by Timber Press in 2027. Send story ideas and thoughts to [email protected].