As Hurricane Humberto Intensifies And Imelda Grows, How Do Storms Get Their Names?

With Hurricane season in full effect, and Hurricane Humberto rapidly gaining strength over the Atlantic, have you ever wondered: How do tropical storms acquire their names—and how do those names reflect evolving conventions, culture, and global cooperation?

Humberto has emerged as a Category 5, and one of the most active systems in the 2025 Atlantic hurricane season. While developer models currently suggest that Humberto will remain over open water, its effects are already being felt through dangerous surf, rip currents, and higher seas in island chains such as the Leeward Islands, Virgin Islands, Puerto Rico, and Bermuda. Simultaneously, another tropical disturbance is brewing near Hispaniola and the Bahamas, likely becoming tropical storm Imelda. This dual-storm environment raises challenges in forecasting, as projected tracks may interact (potentially via a rare Fujiwhara effect), further complicating their paths.

While Humberto and Imelda are classic names with roots in Spanish and German culture, they are not popular names in the United States. Which had me wonder, how are storms named in the first place?

A Historical & Practical Perspective On Storm Naming

Naming tropical storms and hurricanes is grounded in both history and public safety.

Before formal naming conventions existed, storms were often identified by their location, date, or a nearby landmark. In the Caribbean, hurricanes were historically named after the saint’s feast day on which they occurred—e.g. San Felipe, San Francisco.

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the Queensland meteorologist Clement Wragge began assigning personal namesto weather systems, a practice that laid the groundwork for more systematic naming.

In the Atlantic, formal naming began in 1950 using the Joint Army/Navy Phonetic Alphabet (Able, Baker, Charlie, etc.). By 1953, female names were adopted, and in 1979, male and female names alternated. Today, storms are named by regional institutions under guidelines of the World Meteorological Organization (WMO). In the Atlantic, the U.S. National Hurricane Center (NHC) assigns names once a tropical or subtropical system reaches sustained winds of 39 mph (tropical storm strength).

The Atlantic uses six rotating name lists (one per year), each containing 21 names (skipping Q, U, X, Y, Z) and alternating gender. These lists rotate every six years. What names are up next in the Atlantic basin? Be on the looked out for Jerry, Karen, Lorenzo, Melissa, Nestor, Olga, or Pablo. If a storm is particularly deadly or costly, its name may be retired and replaced through a process overseen by the WMO committee. Five retired names are Andrew, Katrina, Sandy, Irma andHarvey.

Naming has three advantages:

• It facilitates clear communication (e.g. “Hurricane Humberto” is easier to convey than a technical code).
• It reduces confusion, especially when multiple storms are active in a region.
• It helps media, emergency management, and the public coordinate warnings, coverage, and preparedness efforts.

Storm naming conventions differ across regions. In the Western Pacific, names come from a rotating list of submissions by member countries in the ESCAP/WMO Typhoon Committee. These names often reflect local languages, cultural references, flora, fauna, and regional heritage.

In the South Atlantic basin (which less frequently produces storms), Brazil and regional agencies maintain naming lists with Portuguese or indigenous names (e.g. Kurumí).

Another example is the Philippine Atmospheric, Geophysical and Astronomical Services Administration (PAGASA). PAGASA assigns local names to cyclones entering or forming within its area of responsibility, even if they already have international names, which lends clarity in national communications.

These international naming practices embed local identity and linguistic diversity in storm tracking, underscoring that tropical cyclones are global phenomena that transcend political, cultural, and geographic boundaries.

Communication And Equity

The act of naming a storm shapes perceptions of hazard, public attention, and memory. However, it also raises a deeper question: how to ensure that names—and by extension, narratives—don’t favor dominant languages, regions, or institutions at the expense of vulnerable populations that are less frequently represented in naming systems. Historically marginalized regions or countries would benefit from having stronger input in naming committees, so their languages, cultural touchstones, and priorities are recognized when storms threaten their shores.

The naming conventions we sometimes take for granted are in fact the result of centuries of evolution, institutional collaboration, and cultural negotiation. As we monitor Humberto’s path and brace for Imelda, remember each name carries weight—and the future of naming will be most robust when it is inclusive, transparent, and globally grounded.