We give hurricanes names to make them easier to track, but the tradition has a turbulent past.

For centuries, major storms were remembered by the places they struck or the saints' feast days they disrupted—like the San Felipe hurricane of 1876.

Then came Clement Wragge, a flamboyant Australian meteorologist in the late 1800s, who began systematically naming cyclones. And he didn’t hold back. Wragge chose names ranging from mythological figures like Medusa and Zoroaster to real women—and even politicians he disliked. His naming style was less scientific and more theatrical. He once labeled storms with the names of bureaucrats who annoyed him, saying they were full of “wind and destruction.”

Though his methods didn’t catch on immediately, Wragge’s flair laid the groundwork for today’s system.

By the 1950s, the U.S. Weather Bureau began using female names exclusively—a decision that drew criticism. In 1979, male names were added to the mix. Today, hurricane names alternate by gender and follow an alphabetical list set by the World Meteorological Organization.

Storm names aren’t just for drama. They help scientists and the public communicate clearly in crisis. And when a storm is especially deadly or costly, its name is retired forever.