# なぜあだ名をつけるのか? - Show: ペーパードライブ【読書・哲学】 - Published: 2026-10-06 - Canonical: https://podc.club/en/episode/1806987009_909c800c4b72.html - Audio: https://pdst.fm/e/pscrb.fm/rss/p/traffic.megaphone.fm/TBS4640722014.mp3 - Source: Edited from a machine transcript of the first 30 minutes of the episode. Not an official summary. Why do nicknames exist, and why does it feel so off when someone proposes their own? Hosts Nagai Rei, Nishikawa Ayano, and Oshima Yasuyuki spend thirty concrete-example-packed minutes unpacking the asymmetry at the heart of naming—names are given, but what you're called is decided by others—and trace how that asymmetry produces nicknames that can signal intimacy, inflict harm, or serve as outright resistance. ## What this episode answers ### Why does it feel "cringe" when someone proposes their own nickname? Proposing your own nickname robs the other person of the freedom to imagine what they'd call you—that pre-emption is the source of the "cringe." Handing over a ready-made nickname on top of your name and surname means presenting three labels at once, leaving nothing for the other person to discover. ### Nicknames can express affection or weaken someone—where does that difference come from? The pivot is whether the nicknamed person knows about it and whether their trait is perceived positively by those using it. The same nickname read as affectionate when the person is aware of it can become belittling when deployed only behind their back—Oshima called the extreme case of calling a teacher by their subject name "full-on bullying." ### What is Nagai Rei's reason for asking participants in philosophical dialogue for "a name only for this space"? A role-laden label like "Nagai-sensei" carries the full weight of everyday identity, so a different name lets participants shed that role; more importantly, for people who have experienced oppression, abuse, or withdrawal from society, choosing their own name in that space can be their very first act of self-determination. ### Where does the rush of excitement from giving someone a nickname come from? Naming someone transforms something about them, and when it clicks perfectly the surge of omnipotence overlaps with the joy of a first creative act—Nagai traces the feeling to the moment she gave a classmate named Nana-chan the nickname "Seven" and the whole class erupted. ### Why do nicknames decrease as people become adults? Each community transition—middle school to high school, university to working life—tends to reset whatever nicknames existed before; adults who keep introducing their own nicknames are, Nagai argues, defending against having a new "curse" imposed on them by naming themselves first. ## Article ## Why Self-Given Nicknames Feel "Cringe" Nagai Rei (長井玲), Nishikawa Ayano (西川彩乃), and Oshima Yasuyuki (大島康幸) open the episode by pushing back against a common radio convention: hosts who, from episode one, propose a name for their listeners. Nishikawa is blunt—if listeners had organically coined a name after years of episodes that would be understandable, but suggesting one on the very first show is "cheap." She goes further, calling any staff member who pitches the idea low-ability. Nagai offers the theoretical frame: "A name is something given to you. But what you're called is decided by others." When someone says "Please call me ___," they pre-empt the moment the other person was going to imagine, freely, what to call them. Oshima describes it as handing over not just a name and a surname but a pre-packaged nickname too—three labels at once. The contrast comes from Barbie and her husband Tutan. When the two first met and simultaneously slipped into nicknames for each other—she became Katan, he became Tutan—the hosts found it completely natural. The key, they agreed, was symmetry: both stepped into the intimate register at the same moment and on equal footing. ## The Two Faces of Nicknames—Intimacy and Weakening Nicknames can work in diametrically opposite directions. A convenience store clerk who privately calls a regular customer "Chikama" (dried fish snack) is both finding small pleasure in a monotonous job and, simultaneously, placing that person under a kind of control. Oshima acknowledges the relief from boredom while flagging the problem of keeping the name entirely behind the customer's back. By contrast, a high-school classmate called "YJ" (Young Jump) because he bought the weekly manga magazine every week and lent it to the class felt no discomfort—his trait was recognized affectionately and he knew about it. The pivot point, the hosts conclude, is whether the person knows the nickname exists and whether the trait being highlighted is viewed positively. At the far extreme, calling a teacher by the name of the subject they teach weakens an already low-profile figure still further—Oshima calls it "full-on bullying." Yet a column by Kiyota of Momoyama Shoji (桃山商事) describes the mirror image: women who give a secret nickname to a harasser as an act of quiet resistance. There the same weakening function becomes a deliberate tool of pushback, showing that naming can be a weapon for the powerless as much as the powerful. ## Nagai Rei's Philosophical Dialogue and "Names Only for This Space" When Nagai facilitates philosophical dialogue sessions she asks participants not for "a name you'd like to be called" but for "a name only for this space." Two reasons: a label like "Nagai-sensei" carries the full weight of one's usual role, and she wants people free of that; and for participants who have experienced oppression, abuse, or withdrawal from society, choosing their own name may be their very first act of self-determination. The names that arise tend to be purely accidental—"Carwash" because someone washed their car that morning, "Sneakers" because they want a new pair. Nagai distinguishes these one-off names from traditional nicknames: they celebrate contingency rather than capturing something essential about the person. She also notes that for people who feel discomfort with their gender identity the act of re-naming through a nickname can function as an important ritual. ## Nicknaming as a Creative Act and Its Inheritance Nagai recalls giving a classmate named Nana-chan the nickname "Seven"—the class lit up instantly. She describes the rush as close to a first creative experience: naming someone transforms something about them, and when it clicks the feeling of omnipotence mirrors the joy of making something new. The hosts read Ariyoshi Hiroyuki's (有吉弘行) celebrated nickname work and the scene in Spirited Away (千と千尋の神隠し) where Yubaba (ユバーバ) strips Chihiro of her name and renames her "Sen" through the same lens—naming is simultaneously an act of power and of creation. There is also an episode about someone who kept mispronouncing "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind" (風の谷のナウシカ) as "Taushika" (タウシカ) and was called that ever after—even by people who never learned the origin. Common surname-based nicknames follow a parallel logic nationwide: Watanabe becomes Nabe or Nabeyan, Yamaguchi becomes Yama-chan or Gucchi. Nicknaming has a self-generating momentum that carries it far beyond its starting point. ## Why Nicknames Fade in Adulthood All three hosts agree that the transitions from middle school to high school and from university to working life are the turning points. Each new community tends to reset whatever nicknames existed before. Oshima's comedy duo Chomechome Club (チョメチョメクラブ) earned him the nickname Chome-jima (チョメ島), coined by Ota-san (太田さん) of Bakusho Mondai (爆笑問題); it has stuck inside the Titan (タイタン) talent agency but in any context where no one knows the duo it simply isn't used—and that, the hosts say, is as it should be. Adults who keep introducing their own nicknames are, Nagai argues, caught in the "curse" of a nickname once received and unable to let it go: by naming themselves first they try to prevent a new label from being imposed. She compares the psychology to people who proactively tell others when to drop formal speech with them—both are rooted in a fear of being defined by someone else. ## Takeaways - What you're called belongs to the caller's freedom, and proposing your own nickname pre-empts their imaginative play—that asymmetry is the entire source of the "cringe." - Whether the nicknamed person knows about it and whether their trait is viewed positively determines whether a nickname expresses affection or inflicts harm; the same nickname can mean opposite things depending on context. - Nicknaming is both a creative act and an exercise of power; nicknames migrate and get inherited across communities, and they fade in adulthood because each new community brings a reset.