How to Make Scientific Names and Name a New Species

Naming a new species follows a surprisingly rigid set of rules rooted in a system more than 250 years old: you propose a two-part Latin or Latinized name, designate a physical reference specimen, publish a formal description that distinguishes the organism from everything already known, and register the name with the appropriate international body. The process varies depending on whether you are dealing with an animal, a plant, a fungus, or a bacterium, because each group operates under its own code of nomenclature. But the underlying logic is the same across all of life, and the details of how names are constructed, validated, and sometimes changed are worth knowing for anyone curious about how biodiversity gets catalogued.

How a Species Gets Recognized as New

Before you can name anything, you need evidence that the organism in question is genuinely distinct from every species already described. This is harder than it sounds. Modern taxonomy relies on what researchers call integrative taxonomy, which means pulling together multiple independent lines of evidence rather than relying on appearance alone. A team might combine detailed physical measurements under light microscopy and scanning electron microscopy with DNA sequence data from several genetic markers to draw species boundaries.

A study on tardigrades, for instance, used morphological and morphometric analysis alongside four molecular markers to identify four previously unrecognized species hiding within what had been treated as a single widespread group.1European Journal of Taxonomy. Integrative taxonomy reveals four new species in the superdiverse genus Macrobiotus (Tardigrada: Eutardigrada: Macrobiotidae) Similarly, a study of Balkan caddisflies used a dataset spanning six genetic loci to confirm that a geographically isolated population represented a genuine new species, not just a local variant.2PubMed Central. Integrative taxonomy by molecular species delimitation: multi-locus data corroborate a new species of Balkan Drusinae micro-endemics The point of stacking evidence this way is to avoid two common mistakes: splitting one variable species into several, or lumping genuinely distinct species together because they look similar.

DNA Barcoding and Cryptic Species

One of the biggest shifts in species discovery over the past two decades has been the rise of DNA barcoding. The idea is simple: sequence a short, standardized stretch of DNA from an organism and compare it against a reference library. When the molecular divergence between two populations is larger than expected, it flags the possibility that what looks like one species under a microscope is actually two or more “cryptic” species, organisms distinct at the genetic level but nearly identical in appearance.

A large-scale barcoding project on the genus Triplophysa, a group of freshwater loaches from the Qinghai-Tibet Plateau, examined over 1,600 specimens using both morphology and DNA barcodes. The researchers identified 22 species in total, including two that had never been described before and two additional cryptic species that could not be separated by physical features alone.3PubMed Central. DNA barcoding reveals cryptic diversity in the underestimated genus Triplophysa Cypriniformes Cobitidae Nemacheilinae from the northeastern Qinghai Tibet Plateau DNA barcoding has become a standard tool for uncovering hidden lineages across plants, animals, and fungi, and when paired with ecological and morphological data it strengthens the case for recognizing a new species.4Gene Reports. DNA barcoding in plants for species identification: Insights from single locus markers to chloroplast genome sequencing

Barcoding alone, though, is not enough to formally name a new species. It can tell you that something is likely different, but the formal act of naming still requires a physical description, a type specimen, and a published paper. Think of barcoding as the search tool and the formal description as the legal document.

The Rules for a Valid Name

Scientific nomenclature is governed by separate international codes depending on the group of organisms. Animals fall under the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature (ICZN). Plants, algae, and fungi follow the International Code of Nomenclature for algae, fungi, and plants (ICNafp), which has introduced provisions specific to fungi in a dedicated chapter.5PubMed Central. How to publish a new fungal species, or name, version 3.0 Prokaryotes (bacteria and archaea) operate under the International Code of Nomenclature of Prokaryotes. The codes differ in their details, but they share core principles.

For animals, a new species name is considered “available” (the zoological term for valid) only when four requirements are met: the name must be Latin or Latinized and clearly indicated as new; a holotype, the single physical specimen that anchors the name, must be designated; the publication must include a description or diagnosis that distinguishes the species from related ones; and the work must be published in a way that ensures multiple identical copies are available, whether freely or by purchase.6Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society. How to describe a new species in zoology and avoid mistakes Miss any one of those steps and the name is not valid under the code, no matter how solid the underlying science may be.

For plants and fungi, the requirements are broadly parallel but not identical. A Latin diagnosis was required for plant names until 2012, when the code was amended to also accept diagnoses in English. Fungi now have additional requirements, including mandatory registration in a recognized repository before or at the time of publication. For prokaryotes, a name becomes validly published only when it appears in, or is listed in, the International Journal of Systematic and Evolutionary Microbiology, the field’s official register.

The Holotype and Why It Matters

Every new species name must be tied to a specific physical specimen called the holotype. This is the single individual that serves as the permanent reference point for the name. If future researchers disagree about whether a given population belongs to species X or species Y, the holotype is the arbiter: whatever species that specimen belongs to is the one that carries that name.

Holotypes are deposited in museum collections or herbaria, where they are maintained indefinitely. The idea is that any scientist, decades or centuries later, can examine the actual specimen the name was based on. For organisms that are difficult to preserve as physical specimens, like certain soft-bodied marine invertebrates, high-resolution photographs, micro-CT scans, or preserved tissue samples may supplement the holotype, but a physical specimen remains the norm. Losing or destroying a holotype does not automatically invalidate the name, but it creates real problems for future taxonomists trying to resolve borderline cases.

In addition to the holotype, researchers typically designate paratypes, additional specimens from the same collecting event or population that help illustrate the range of variation within the species. Paratypes do not have the same legal weight as the holotype, but they are invaluable for understanding what the species actually looks like across different ages, sizes, or sexes.

How to Construct the Name Itself

Scientific names follow the binomial system: a genus name (capitalized) followed by a specific epithet (lowercase), both conventionally italicized. The genus name is a Latin or Latinized noun. The specific epithet can take one of several grammatical forms, and the choice matters because it affects the word’s ending. Under the rules for prokaryotes, for example, the epithet must be either an adjective that agrees in gender with the genus name, a noun in the nominative case used in apposition, or a noun in the genitive case.7FEMS Microbiology Reviews. How to name a prokaryote?: Etymological considerations, proposals and practical advice in prokaryote nomenclature The same broad framework applies across zoology and botany as well.

In practice, specific epithets tend to fall into a few common categories:

  • Descriptive: referring to a physical feature. Ruber (red), longipes (long-footed), gracilis (slender).
  • Geographic: referring to the place of collection. Africanus, himalayensis, amazonicus.
  • Eponymous: honoring a person. A species named after someone called Smith would become smithi (masculine) or smithae (feminine), using the Latin genitive.
  • Ecological or behavioral: referring to a habitat or habit. Aquaticus (aquatic), nocturnus (nocturnal).

Regardless of the word’s origin, it must be Latinized. You can coin a name from any language, but it gets forced into Latin grammatical dress. An epithet derived from a Swahili word, a Japanese place name, or an Aboriginal term is perfectly acceptable as long as it receives a Latin ending and follows the code’s formation rules. An etymology section in the published description explains the meaning and derivation of the name, which helps future researchers understand what the author intended.

Registering the Name

Depending on the group of organisms, newly proposed names may need to be formally registered in an official database. For animals, ZooBank is the official register of the ICZN. For plants, the International Plant Names Index (IPNI) serves as the primary registry. Fungi have two parallel systems: Index Fungorum and MycoBank. These registries have been working toward automated, pre-publication pipelines so that a name can be registered during the manuscript submission process and linked directly to the published paper.8PubMed Central. A common registration-to-publication automated pipeline for nomenclatural acts for higher plants (International Plant Names Index, IPNI), fungi (Index Fungorum, MycoBank) and animals (ZooBank) Registration systems have long been in place for fungi, prokaryotes, and animals, and more recently for algae and plants as well.9Biodiversity Information Science and Standards. Demonstration of the New IPNI (International Plant Names Index) Registration System

Registration is not just bureaucratic housekeeping. It creates a time-stamped, publicly searchable record that helps settle priority disputes (when two teams independently describe the same species, the name published first wins) and prevents duplicate names from slipping through. For fungi, registration is now mandatory for a name to be validly published; for animals, it became required for electronic-only publications starting in 2012.

The Politics and Ethics of Naming

Naming a species is one of the few acts in science where you get to leave a permanent mark on the record of life, and that power comes with baggage. Eponymous names, those honoring a person, have drawn increasing scrutiny. Compilations of species named after people show a strong pattern: most honorees are white men from wealthy nations in the Northern Hemisphere.10PubMed Central. Naming the menagerie: creativity, culture and consequences in the formation of scientific names The zoological code currently recommends, but does not require, that authors avoid names that are inappropriate or that might cause offense.

In recent years, there have been proposals to rename species whose epithets honor people with troubling historical legacies, but the nomenclatural codes strongly resist retroactive changes to established names. The principle of priority, where the first validly published name stands, is a cornerstone of all the codes. Changing a name because of its cultural associations rather than a taxonomic finding would undermine the stability that the system was built to provide. This tension remains unresolved: the codes were designed to be culturally neutral catalogs, and using them as instruments of social justice creates complications their framers did not anticipate.

Some researchers and institutions have sidestepped the debate entirely by auctioning naming rights to raise conservation funds. One program mentioned in the literature has arranged the naming of about 190 species and received roughly €650,000 in corresponding donations.10PubMed Central. Naming the menagerie: creativity, culture and consequences in the formation of scientific names Others have turned to public votes. A recently described European cave shrimp, Spelaeocaris electa, received its epithet through community participation, with “electa” (chosen) reflecting the democratic process behind the name.11PubMed Central. Revealing European cave shrimp diversity: a new species of Spelaeocaris (Decapoda, Atyidae) named through public participation

When Names Change

Although stability is a core goal of nomenclature, names do change, and those changes have real consequences. A species might be moved from one genus to another as phylogenetic understanding improves, which alters the first half of its binomial. Two species thought to be distinct might be merged into one, making the junior name a synonym. Or a species thought to be a single entity gets split into several, creating new names. In prokaryote taxonomy, renaming existing species is sometimes necessary when advances in systematics reveal that earlier classifications were wrong.

These shifts are not just academic bookkeeping. A study examining the intersection of taxonomy and wildlife law in China found that revised species names had created real enforcement problems. Twenty-five threatened species, including eighteen mammals, had names in Chinese law that no longer matched current taxonomy. Two newly discovered primate species had not yet been added to the legal framework at all. And six mammalian species were known by different synonyms in Chinese law versus international CITES agreements, complicating cross-border policing of the illegal wildlife trade.12Conservation Letters. Revised Taxonomic Binomials Jeopardize Protective Wildlife Legislation When a name changes in the scientific literature but not in the statute books, a poacher can exploit the gap.

The Debate Over Indigenous Names in Formal Nomenclature

A separate but related conversation involves proposals to give indigenous vernacular names priority within the formal nomenclatural system. In principle, many species had indigenous names long before European naturalists encountered them, and some researchers have argued that these names deserve formal recognition. In practice, folding indigenous names into the code creates serious complications. A discussion centered on the New Zealand flora concluded that doing so would require extensive changes to the international code, result in widespread instability across existing names, and paradoxically subject indigenous names to the rigid grammatical and priority rules of botanical nomenclature, stripping them of the cultural contexts that make them meaningful in the first place.

The distinction that defenders of the current system draw is between formal scientific nomenclature, which is a global indexing tool designed for universal communication, and vernacular names, which carry cultural, ecological, and spiritual meaning within specific communities. These are complementary systems, and forcing one into the framework of the other risks damaging both. That said, nothing prevents taxonomists from deriving specific epithets from indigenous words, and many do. The code does not require Latin roots for epithets, only Latin endings.

Who Actually Gets to Name Species

Taxonomy has an unusual relationship with amateur participation. Unlike most scientific fields, where contributing to the literature requires an institutional affiliation and advanced training, taxonomy has a long tradition of skilled non-professionals making significant contributions. Since the late twentieth century, the growth of online databases, digital photography, and social media platforms where people can share images and help each other with identifications has given amateur naturalists new tools to contribute to biodiversity knowledge. Skilled amateurs provide identification photographs, sometimes participate in targeted searches for rare species organized by professional taxonomists, and occasionally author or co-author species descriptions themselves.

The formal requirements for naming a species do not include holding a PhD or working at a university. Anyone who follows the relevant code, produces a valid description and diagnosis, designates a holotype deposited in a recognized collection, and publishes the work in a qualifying venue can name a species. In entomology, amateur contributions to species descriptions have been especially significant, partly because insects are so diverse that professional taxonomists alone cannot keep pace with the undescribed backlog. The bottleneck is not credentials but access to comparative collections, molecular lab facilities, and the specialized literature needed to confirm that your specimen does not match anything already described.

Common Mistakes and How to Avoid Them

The most frequent pitfall for first-time species describers is not the science but the paperwork. Forgetting to explicitly state that a name is new, failing to designate a holotype, publishing in a venue that does not meet the code’s distribution requirements, or getting the Latin grammar wrong can all render a name unavailable. In zoology, detailed guidance has been published specifically to help authors avoid these procedural errors.6Zoological Journal of the Linnean Society. How to describe a new species in zoology and avoid mistakes In mycology, a dedicated step-by-step guide walks fungal taxonomists through the current requirements, which have changed substantially with recent code editions.5PubMed Central. How to publish a new fungal species, or name, version 3.0

Another common issue is inadequate comparison with existing species. Describing something as new without thoroughly examining the type specimens or original descriptions of closely related species is a recipe for creating a junior synonym, a name that turns out to refer to something already described. Museum visits, loans of type material, and increasingly digital access to high-resolution specimen images are all part of due diligence. The best species descriptions are those where the author can convincingly show not just what the new species looks like, but precisely how it differs from every plausible alternative.

A subtler trap involves the relationship between molecular and morphological evidence. A DNA barcode that diverges sharply from known species is suggestive, but if you cannot point to any physical or ecological feature that distinguishes the organism, reviewers and the broader community will often push back. Integrative taxonomy, combining molecular data with morphology, ecology, and geography, remains the gold standard for making a convincing case.13Systematic Entomology. Integrative taxonomy, or iterative taxonomy? The field is still debating how much molecular evidence alone should count, but in practice, the species descriptions that hold up best over time are those supported by multiple independent data sources.