Has anyone seen a Quarrion lately? How about a Swamp pheasant, or Scrub turkey? Or Buln-buln or Storm bird? How about a Soldier parrot?
You probably have, but just don’t realise it. These are all localised names for birds from the Downs and south-western Queensland. A Quarrion is a Cockatiel, a Scrub pheasant a Pheasant coucal, a Scrub turkey an Australian brush turkey, Buln-buln a Mallee ringneck parrot. A Storm bird could be a Pacific koel or a Channel-billed cuckoo. And if you’ve seen a Soldier parrot phone me right away because that’s a Paradise parrot!
As modern communication networks, and especially the internet, have brought the world closer together – people from different regions in Australia are able to talk far more easily to each other – and what may be called a Grass parrot in one area can be completely different to a Grass parrot in another area. Common names were never meant to be unambiguous and specific, that’s the role of scientific names, but the need for the common names to be standardised has grown exponentially in the last twenty years. To that end every bird in Australia now has one official common name across the country, so as to avoid confusion.
Though necessary this is in some ways quite sad as there really was some character in local names. Perhaps the best example of this is Apostlebirds (so named because they occur in groups of twelve). They are highly gregarious, social and talkative – which has caused them to be known by other names: Happy family, Happy jack, Lousy jack, Grey jumper, Squark and the unforgettable CWA bird.
Local names though can cause confusion even in the area they are used. The afore mentioned Storm bird is a great case in point – to some people in our area it is the Channel-billed cuckoo, to others it is Pacific koel. Both of these birds are called Storm birds because they arrive from Papua New Guinea in September and October just as storm season starts – as if they’ve brought the storms with them. But the confusion can also extend across national borders. Our Black-necked stork was previously known as the Jabiru – but that was changed to avoid confusion with the Jabiru in central and southern America – which actually had the name first!
Sometimes different sub-species of the one species can be given a different or altered common name – for instance the Forest red-tailed black cockatoos in south-western Western Australia. These birds have some significant differences to the other Red-tailed black cockatoos and may well end up being classified as their own species. In the case of Port Lincoln and Twenty-eight parrots the differences are superficial and minor (a slight plumage variation) but enough to have them classified as different species at one stage. Genetic studies have confirmed they are in fact one species (now called Australian ringnecks) but the names for the different sub-species are still in common usage.
The aviculture trade as well has caused a lot of common names to be invented to describe different colour mutations of the one species – these names however carry no scientific weight, but they have certainly led some people to believe different looking birds of the one species are different species, when in fact they aren’t.
Names can also carry history with them – for instance the formerly named Major Mitchell cockatoo. This is perhaps Australia’s most beautiful bird but it was named after Major Thomas Mitchell who commanded the massacre of at least seven aboriginal people in 1836. Should such a beautiful bird be named after someone who did that? I don’t think so, and now that bird bears the rather boring but apt moniker Pink cockatoo.
However, if you change too many names you lose our history as well. So only in the most egregious cases I think the names should be changed. So we still should have our Gould’s petrel, Gouldian finches, Lewin’s honeyeater and Lewin’s rail. These names celebrate ornithologist John Gould (1804-1881) and natural history artist John Lewin (1770-1819). Both of whom were enormously important in early Australian ornithology.
Recognising indigenous names for birds is important too, but using them nationally is fraught with problems, as that is not how indigenous languages work. Indigenous languages, names and stories are essentially an encyclopedia of how to survive on the land of that particular first nation. If you take that knowledge and apply it elsewhere it is virtually meaningless, and also disrespectful to the indigenous people of that area and their language and customs. Not all birds of course will be found in all first nations areas either, but those that are found in different areas can have completely different names – and one shouldn’t be imposed on the other. Perhaps the best known example of this is with kangaroos – that name is used across the nation and world now, but it is a derivation of the word gungurru and comes from just one area and people – the Guugu Yimithirr people of what is now Cooktown. It is completely wrong to think that is the Aboriginal word for kangaroos. Knowing indigenous names is very worthwhile, but the word should never be separated from its location and history.
All of this confusion is meant to be solved by scientific names – they are the authoritative unambiguous name for each species – but then who can pronounce them! They are not immutable either, and as further research overturns previous assumptions in how some birds are related, then their scientific names must also be changed. Usually in regard to the genus.
When talking about anything – especially birds – it’s vital to be clear about what you’re talking about. When communicating in person any confusion can be easily cleared up with follow up questions – this is not always so easy in print or online, which is where so much of our communication happens now. The standardisation in common and scientific names is an attempt to facilitate that. However, having said all of that – they’ll always be Scrub turkeys to me!
This article first appeared in the Crows Post in December 2025