Why Scientists Should Not Name Diseases Based On Location
This article was originally published in May 2021 and has been updated for inclusion in the Fall 2024 issue of Microcosm.
When the world should have been banding together to fight a pandemic, stereotypes drove people apart.
As COVID-19 began to circle the globe, so did the term "Chinavirus," perpetuating derogatory attitudes against the country, its customs and its people. While associating the disease with its suspected origin in Wuhan may have been necessary for initial surveillance, the derisive misnomer soon fueled and increased . A hashtag appeared on social media among those of Asian heritage: "#IAmNotAVirus." Following news reports of tragic hate crimes, the in January 2021 condemning COVID-19-based racism, stating the rhetoric "defied the best practices and guidelines of public health officials" and "stoked unfounded fears and perpetuated stigma." These were the very things the official names SARS-CoV-2 and COVID-19 were designed to avoid.
Disease names often incorporate geography, referencing places of discovery or suspected origin, areas of high risk or major outbreak sites. While identifying a disease by location may seem harmless—maybe even helpful—these types of names can tarnish cultures and communities, particularly if those connections are inaccurate. This is true in many cases: , and though Valley Fever (coccidioidomycosis) refers to a 1930s outbreak in the San Joaquin Valley of California, the . To minimize such misinformation and its socioeconomic impact on communities, advocating for more generic, descriptive terminology. However, in the era of social media, "viral" names created outside the scientific community tend to stick.
How Viruses and Diseases Are Named
, a microbiology professor at the University of Iowa who studies coronaviruses, served on the (ICTV) subcommittee responsible for naming the virus that caused the COVID-19 pandemic. The SARS-CoV-2 virus was named solely due to its genetic similarity to the virus that causes Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS), Perlman said, explaining that referencing the genetic makeup helps researchers develop diagnostics and tests. The ICTV is independent from the International Classification of Diseases, which serves to standardize health records among care providers, researchers and medical insurance companies. WHO manages ICD following guidelines developed with the and the . The selected public-facing disease name, Coronavirus Disease, refers to its symptoms and its year of discovery, while attempting to disassociate from the public fear and stigma associated with the SARS outbreak in Asia in 2003.
Perlman also served on the ICTV when Middle East Respiratory Syndrome (MERS) was named in 2011. The term was never meant to be pejorative, but did raise some questions among the committee, according to Perlman. At the time, the name made sense, he said, as the disease had only been reported in that area. However, those who were infected with MERS were reluctant to seek treatment, and Perlman suspects this was likely because of guilt and stigma. "There is a long history of naming diseases after places, but no one would do that today—if there’s a risk (of alienating a culture), why would you do it?"
What are the consequences of this type of naming? Associating a location with a disease or pathogen puts the onus on the country or government to "do more." Local economies, especially those dependent on tourism, can be devastated once associated with a disease, as was the case with the pig farming community in Kampung Sungai Nipah, Malaysia. Devastating rural farmers, the "Nipah" virus and Singapore placed a ban on pig imports from Malaysia—which is still in effect despite the absence of the virus from the area since 1999. In addition, the way diseases are named can invite miscommunication about transmission and prevention. For instance, pigs merely served as a passthrough host for the Nipah virus; the true reservoir is bats.
A History of Name-Shaming
Cepheid Vice President of Scientific Affairs , has published multiple articles on "," covering periods of time before and after the 2015 WHO guidelines. The COVID-19 related racism is somewhat of an anomaly, he said, perhaps a manifestation of the political climate and the U.S. relationship with WHO at the time. "Unfortunately, people [politicized] these names...in an attempt to put the blame on others and say it's someone else's fault instead of focusing on the important issues, such as addressing a pandemic," he said, emphasizing the preference for names based on physical structure or genetic makeup rather than geography. However, the COVID-19 pandemic is not the first time this politicization of disease has occurred.
Perhaps the best-known disease misnomer is the "Spanish flu," which despite its name, . The pandemic struck the world in the midst of an international war (World War I), during which many other European countries were subject to news blackouts that censored stories about the flu to keep morale high. As a neutral country with free media, Spain was the first to report on the outbreak, causing many to falsely believe the flu had originated there. (Interestingly, the flu was called “French flu” in Spain.) Similarly, the term "German measles" arose from inconsistent terminology following its initial description by its German discoverers as R枚theln (red). The corresponding virus (now called rubella) has no relation to Germany, nor the actual measles virus. Despite this, the U.S. renamed the disease "" to stoke anti-German sentiment and strengthen U.S. patriotism during World War I.
Conversely, there are incidences in which disease names have been selected specifically to avoid placing stigma on a given community. Taking lessons from the , scientists named to mitigate its impact on the village where it was discovered. Likewise, when a hantavirus with 50% mortality was described in rodents in the Four Corners region of the U.S., politicians reportedly voiced opposition to a name that would associate their state with the virus. As a compromise, ," which translates to “no name.”
Suggestions for Future Nomenclature
Loeffelholz thinks there is little, if any, benefit to naming diseases after places, especially in today’s interconnected world where microbes defy borders. "Global travel has exploded in ease and amount; for many of these diseases the place of origination is in fact irrelevant," he said. Changing climate conditions are of ticks, mosquitoes and other vectors, bringing tropical diseases to areas in which they have not historically been found. "We really need to focus away [from] using geographic origins in the nomenclature and choose names for viruses that are more relevant to their physical structure or the disease they cause," he said.
The challenge is to develop naming systems and terminology that are accurate, and easy-to-understand and communicate, especially in cases like the COVID-19 pandemic where new data and variants emerge at a rapid pace. Meeting the challenge is critical, though. The way scientists speak about their topics of study has far-reaching consequences, and addressing misconceptions and gaps in knowledge is imperative for promoting global health while minimizing stigma and misinformation.
The spread of misinformation can have real and harmful effects on public health. How can you learn to recognize misinformation—and help to combat it?
