Amongst the lies we tell ourselves, the childhood rhyme of “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me,” figures fairly highly in the deception stakes. In adulthood this proverb is usually reinforced by the misplaced mantra, “It never did me any harm.” Granted, not all narratives are necessarily harmful, but where do nicknames fit within the lexicon of language?
Children’s nicknames can be cruel
Aged around 10, the humiliation, horror, and hysteria I felt when other kids mocked my protruding teeth and a gap that seemed, to me, to be wider than the Grand Canyon, was excruciating. Emotionally I wanted to curl up and hide, and physically the contortion of my lips in order to cover the tombstones was painful. I vividly remember being selected to play football with the stinging endorsement of “We’ll have Goofy.”
The later intervention of braces, which made me resemble “Jaws” from the James Bond films The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker, corrected the gap and reduced the overhanging bite, eliminating the jibes – although perhaps my 6’2” bulking frame (at around the age of 16) may have contributed to my former tormentors’ fear that I may actually strike back.
Work nicknames may be hurtful as well
Joining the police – as an innocent 19-year-old – reignited the issue when everyone around me appeared to have a nickname. My baptism was immediate. Whilst at training school Kirke was tamely altered to “Kirkey,” or, on a good day, “Captain.” Yet, when I ventured into the cut and thrust of the real world of operational policing, there was a sharp transition. “Alber” (as in Albuquerque, New Mexico) was positively mild, although in the words of The Automatic, “What’s that coming over the hill? Is it a monster? Is it a monster?”
Following a raid on a local property, a substantial hoard of pornography was seized. On returning to my room in single quarters above the police station there was a pile of magazines against my door. My adolescent curiosity got the better of me and I picked one up. The explicitly gay publication was called Zipper and before I could compute the “why,” the gravity of the setup became obvious as several male members of my shift who had been hiding nearby revealed themselves – a gotcha moment that proclaimed my new tag, the title of the same journal. Funnily enough, as I embarked upon the promotion ladder, this reference completely ebbed away and once I hit the dizzy heights of Inspector I was simply “Sir.”
In later life, when I began to lose my hair, I took the seemingly drastic action of shaving it all off. Rarely have I been called “Baldy” or similar since this epiphany. The notion of nicknames evaporated from my psyche until many decades later when a particular social media post caught my eye and made me literally laugh out loud; reflection followed.
A football player’s nickname made me think again
Being a Notts County fan is feral ground for banter, especially from our local rivals Mansfield Town and Chesterfield; however, the narrative that set the grey matter alight was an endorsement of our newly signed goalkeeper from a Derby County fan where our new number 1 had previously plied his trade. Apparently, the Rams fans had nicknamed him “Dracula” on account of the fact he couldn’t handle crosses. This slapstick sentiment was – in my opinion – classic football mockery and, after his debut in the opening match of the season at Newport County, not without accuracy. Later, putting aside his gaffe, I wondered what effect being compared to this lethal agent of the night would have on anybody’s performance?
I opened up my enquiry to friends on social media and was unsurprised at the reach of nicknames where examples were provided in both domestic and work environments, although my limited research tended to amplify the notion that the emergency services and armed forces appeared to lead the way. Indeed, my friend Frankie trotted off a list of 30-odd labels that had been attached to colleagues in the Navy. My one-time supervisor disclosed that his nicknames included “Klondike” and “Farter.” I will leave you to join the dots to establish his real name.
A colleague of short stature I once worked with was relentlessly referred to as the malicious word bestowed upon him by the queen of a local crime family. When I asked him recently how he felt all these years later. I was surprised that he said it hadn’t bothered him, although he disclosed that some people still didn’t know his first name. I confess I still have flashbacks to the school playing field and so wish I had stood up for myself then.
Are nicknames always hurtful or can they be endearments?
I sought to delve deeper into the concept of whether nicknames were affectionate or coercive and was reassured to discover that I’m not the only person to ponder this conundrum.
Research undertaken by Donna Starks and Kerry Taylor-Leech at La Trobe University and University of Southern Queensland highlighted how nicknames serve as tools for self and group identification, often reflecting personal traits and fostering ingroup cohesion. Nicknames are common in families, sports teams, and peer groups, reinforcing social bonds through shared language and identity markers. Equally, in field studies of Nigerian street children by Ezekiel Opeyemi Olajimbiti, nicknames were shown to reinforce clique affiliation and solidarity, acting as symbolic resources for social cohesion and resilience.
Complimentary investigation by Oksana Nikolenko in 2023 concluded that nicknames can be semantically linked to basic emotions like pride and joy. Those function as emotionally evaluative carriers, expressing approval and admiration, and influencing behaviour through positive reinforcement. Linked academic analysis found that some nicknames were associated with attributes like cheerfulness and popularity, suggesting a link between nickname use and positive emotional perception. A powerful conjecture reached in the NeuroLaunch Editorial (2024) underlined how nicknames contribute to identity formation, acting as self-fulfilling prophecies. A nickname like “Champ” can inspire achievement, while affectionate diminutives foster a sense of being seen and valued; but for every yang there exists a yin.
Elisabeth Camp, in her paper “Nicknames as Tools for Managing Face,” was damning by asserting that nicknames can also be used to manage “face” or social status, subtly enforcing group norms or hierarchies. For example, nicknames like “Shrimpy” or “Four Eyes” might reinforce perceived inferiority or difference. Oksana Nikolenko also countered the supposed social positives by addressing the arena of emotional manipulation. Some nicknames carry emotionally evaluative weight-expressing disapproval, mockery, or even public condemnation which can influence behaviour and self-perception. The worrying impact on children affirmed that nicknames can affect a child’s self-esteem – positively if they feel accepted, but negatively if the nickname is derogatory or isolating.
Where do I stand on nicknames?
So where do I stand at the conclusion of this meander? I believe that nicknames are neither inherently affectionate, nor coercive since they are context dependent. When used with care and mutual understanding, they foster intimacy and belonging. But when imposed or weaponised, they can subtly coerce, stigmatise, or exclude. I guess the only way to establish their value or otherwise is to simply ask the recipient how it makes them feel, but don’t take their response on face value, as peer pressure and the need to fit in can be overwhelming. If the tag relates to a physical characteristic or behavioural trait, ask yourself: would you be proud or comfortable to have yourself categorised this way in front of the rest of the world? If not, then the use of the nickname is almost certainly bullying.
© Ian Kirke 2025
