Nike used to be known as Blue Ribbon Sports. What's now Sara Lee

Hear the words of James Surowiecki, who speaks of names, of symbols, and of the fragile alchemy that turns identity into destiny: “Nike used to be known as Blue Ribbon Sports. What’s now Sara Lee used to be Consolidated Foods. And Exxon was once Standard Oil Company of New Jersey. These were name changes that worked. But for all the ones that do, there are ten or twenty that don’t.” In these lines lies not merely a lesson about companies, but about transformation, about the mysterious power of names, and about the peril of seeking rebirth without wisdom.

When Surowiecki recalls the old title Blue Ribbon Sports, he is calling us to remember that greatness often wears humble beginnings. The name “Nike,” drawn from the winged goddess of victory, ignited the imagination in a way that “Blue Ribbon Sports” could not. Here we see that a name is not just a label but a vision, a vessel carrying the spirit of what a thing aspires to be. Yet, as he warns, not every attempt to rename, to reinvent, succeeds—many sink into obscurity, forgotten, because the name chosen could not carry the weight of meaning.

The story of Exxon likewise shows us the power of transformation. Once known as Standard Oil Company of New Jersey, the name bore the heavy legacy of monopoly and controversy. By shedding the old title, the company sought renewal, a fresh mantle for a new era. And indeed, “Exxon,” though strange at first, came to embody power and endurance in the global economy. Thus, the wise understand: sometimes a new name is not only useful, but necessary for survival, a cloak to step into the future unburdened by the past.

Yet Surowiecki cautions us: for every change that shines, there are many that falter. Why? Because a name is not magic in itself. It must be chosen with care, aligned with truth, and resonant with the spirit of those it represents. To rename without wisdom is like planting a seed in barren soil—no matter how bright its shell, it will not grow. A failed name change is not just a failed word; it is a failed vision, a sign that the heart of the endeavor did not match the banner it tried to raise.

Consider the ancient tale of Octavian, who upon rising to supreme power in Rome took for himself the name Augustus. In that single word, he redefined his legacy, moving from the shadow of Julius Caesar into the light of divine majesty. His new name meant “the revered one,” and it gave him authority not only in arms but in spirit. This is the same wisdom Surowiecki describes: the right name can summon greatness, but the wrong one withers in silence.

The deeper meaning of his words is this: identity is not static, but it must be anchored. To change without thought is folly, but to evolve with vision can be the key to survival. Whether for companies, for nations, or for individuals, the name is a declaration of purpose. It is a banner that others will follow or ignore. Therefore, when one seeks to reforge their identity, they must ask: Does this new name carry truth? Does it awaken the imagination? Does it give life to the destiny I seek?

The lesson for us is clear. If you seek to transform your life, your work, or your craft, do not mistake novelty for wisdom. Change for its own sake is vanity, but change aligned with purpose is power. Just as Nike called upon the spirit of victory, so must you call upon words, symbols, and actions that resonate with your true path.

The practical action is this: before renaming, reshaping, or reinventing anything in your life—pause, reflect, and ask what vision you are truly serving. Do not chase what is fashionable or hollow, but choose what is enduring, meaningful, and strong. For in this way, you will not be one of the ten or twenty failures Surowiecki warns of, but one of the few who succeed—those whose names, and whose legacies, endure through the ages.