Alan

It came to England in 1066 tucked into the Norman invasion, carried by Breton soldiers whose name traced back to Celtic roots most likely meaning "rock" or, in more poetic readings, "little harmony." Alan settled in as a reliable medieval given name, made the Atlantic crossing in the luggage of emigrants, and reached its American peak in the mid-twentieth century when it had a steady, likable set of faces: Alan Ladd on the movie screen, Alan Shepard in a space capsule, Alan Alda in a Korean War field hospital on Sunday-night television.

Since then Alan has cooled into what naming observers call the comfortable classic category — not fashionable, not outdated, simply present and dependable, doing what reliable names do for long stretches of time. It currently sits at rank 167, a number that means there will always be one more Alan somewhere in the school, but never so many that anyone has to use last initials. That steady middling position is a kind of durability that flashier names rarely achieve.

Two syllables, both of them open and unguarded, the stress sitting naturally on the first. It pairs cleanly with surnames that begin with consonants and with middle names like James or Beckham or Callum that share its no-nonsense economy. The boy named Alan tends to be quietly competent at a surprising number of things, moderately known for none of them, and genuinely easy to be around. He will remember your birthday without writing it down anywhere, and he will never once make that fact into a personality trait.