You’d think companies would want their products’ names to be memorable, catchy and descriptive: Windex, Duracell, KitchenAid. So why has Big Pharma been doing the exact opposite for the past few years? I just saw an ad for a drug whose consumer-facing product name is—hand to God—“Bimzelx.” Are they just fucking with us? —Don Draper
Before I answer your question, Don, I want to stress that all the pharmaceutical trade names mentioned in this column—no matter how much they might resemble a Scrabble hand that would make you trade in your tiles and lose a turn—are real. Sronyx! Xeljanz! Bloxiverz! Just typing them makes me want to reassure everyone I’m not having a stroke.
To make things even more confusing, there are two kinds of drug names—the trade name (see above) and the generic name. The generic name for Xeljanz, for example, is tofacitinib. This may sound like another “screw you” from the drug’s makers, but the “-citinib” suffix actually has meaning, indicating (to an adept few, anyway) that the drug blocks a pathway or enzyme. Generic names are often made up of such building blocks, providing some justification for words like “clopidigrel” and “aducanumab.”
The trade names, however, really are meaningless. That’s partly by design—Food and Drug Administration rules prohibit names that appear to denote superiority or promise results, so no contraceptives named “Bestradiol” or cures for piles called “Neverrhoids” (even though that would obviously be an amazing name).
The rules don’t stop there! Trade names must also be unique and not easily confused with any of the 20,000 other FDA-approved prescription drugs. They can’t be too similar to the generic name, or to the name of the drug class they belong to. There are so many rules, in fact, and so many grounds upon which a name can be disqualified, that drug companies submit dozens or even hundreds of names at a time, hoping at least one will pass muster.
There are also commercial concerns. Is the domain name available? Does the name clash with an existing trademark in any of the target markets? Does the name have the generous helping of q’s, x’s and z’s that focus groups identify as “science-y”? Given all this, even a terrible name has to count as a win. If it’s terrible enough to be memorable, even better. To paraphrase an old campaign: “With a name like Migranal, it HAS to be good!”
Questions? Send them to dr.know@wweek.com.