Chinese names in English often carry historical baggage due to dialectal variations and romanization systems, which can trip up even the most careful translators. However, beyond the technicalities, a more pressing question arises: How should Chinese names be pronounced when placed in an English context?
Let us start with the order of names. In English, the given name comes before the surname. For years, many Chinese speakers have flipped their names to fit this Western convention when writing in English. For instance, Zhang San (張三) becomes San Zhang, which might leave English speakers thinking “San” is the surname and “Zhang” is the given name. That inversion feels awkward to the speaker and the listener.
Interestingly, English media often respect the Chinese tradition of placing the surname first. Whether referring to leaders or ordinary citizens, they consistently maintain the “surname-first” order. So why do we, as Chinese speakers, bend over backward to conform to a foreign convention when the world is already accommodating ours? It is time to embrace our naming tradition with confidence.
Then comes the tricky part: pronunciation. Many Chinese names are butchered in English, often sounding like a bad karaoke rendition. While it is understandable that non-native speakers struggle with tones and phonetics, we native speakers should strive to pronounce our names authentically, even in an English context.
The gold standard is to pronounce names in clear, standard Mandarin. For example, Zhang San should sound like “張三.” If tones are too challenging for English speakers, dropping them while retaining the basic pronunciation (for example, “張散” for Zhang San) is acceptable. However, completely anglicizing Chinese names — such as pronouncing Zhang San as “Jang San(d)” — feels like a cultural betrayal. After all, our names are part of our identity.
Of course, if someone has an English name, all bets are off. They are free to follow English naming conventions without judgement.
The same principles apply to Chinese place names, but with an added layer of historical complexity. Take for example “Soochow University,” the English name for Dongwu University (東吳大學), founded in Suzhou in 1900. “Soochow” is an old romanization of “Suzhou” (蘇州). When I pronounced it as “蘇州” in an English recording, a professor said it should be pronounced “Zhao” (超) to preserve its historical roots.
Similarly, “Taipei” (台北) is derived from the Wade-Giles romanization system, which originally included an apostrophe to indicate aspiration (T’aipei). Over time, the apostrophe was dropped, but should we still pronounce it as “台北” or anglicize it to “Tie-pay”?
The professor likened my approach to tearing down ancient buildings and replacing them with modern structures, saying it erases historical charm. However, “Soochow” and “Taipei” are merely romanized representations of Mandarin pronunciations. Pronouncing them as “蘇州” and “台北” aligns with their linguistic origins, not their spelling.
Some Chinese place names in English carry deep historical roots. “Cathay,” an archaic term for China, derives from the Khitan people. “China” traces back to Sanskrit. “Peking” (北京) reflects an older Mandarin pronunciation, while “Hong Kong” (香港) is firmly rooted in Cantonese. Those names have become entrenched in English and should be pronounced as they are.
For modern place names, I recommend sticking to standard Mandarin pronunciations: “Taipei” should ideally sound like “台北,” although dropping the tones to make it “胎貝” is a reasonable compromise. Fully anglicizing it to “Tie-pay” should be the last resort.
Ultimately, how we pronounce Chinese names and places in English reflects our cultural confidence. While it is understandable that non-native speakers might struggle, we should hold ourselves to a higher standard. After all, our names and places are more than just words — they are a part of who we are.
So, the next time you hear someone mispronounce “Zhang San” or “Taipei,” gently correct them. Remember, cultural pride starts with how we say our own names.
Hugo Tseng holds a doctorate in linguistics, and is a lexicographer and former chair of the Soochow University English Department.
The gutting of Voice of America (VOA) and Radio Free Asia (RFA) by US President Donald Trump’s administration poses a serious threat to the global voice of freedom, particularly for those living under authoritarian regimes such as China. The US — hailed as the model of liberal democracy — has the moral responsibility to uphold the values it champions. In undermining these institutions, the US risks diminishing its “soft power,” a pivotal pillar of its global influence. VOA Tibetan and RFA Tibetan played an enormous role in promoting the strong image of the US in and outside Tibet. On VOA Tibetan,
There is much evidence that the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) is sending soldiers from the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) to support Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — and is learning lessons for a future war against Taiwan. Until now, the CCP has claimed that they have not sent PLA personnel to support Russian aggression. On 18 April, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelinskiy announced that the CCP is supplying war supplies such as gunpowder, artillery, and weapons subcomponents to Russia. When Zelinskiy announced on 9 April that the Ukrainian Army had captured two Chinese nationals fighting with Russians on the front line with details
On a quiet lane in Taipei’s central Daan District (大安), an otherwise unremarkable high-rise is marked by a police guard and a tawdry A4 printout from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs indicating an “embassy area.” Keen observers would see the emblem of the Holy See, one of Taiwan’s 12 so-called “diplomatic allies.” Unlike Taipei’s other embassies and quasi-consulates, no national flag flies there, nor is there a plaque indicating what country’s embassy this is. Visitors hoping to sign a condolence book for the late Pope Francis would instead have to visit the Italian Trade Office, adjacent to Taipei 101. The death of
By now, most of Taiwan has heard Taipei Mayor Chiang Wan-an’s (蔣萬安) threats to initiate a vote of no confidence against the Cabinet. His rationale is that the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP)-led government’s investigation into alleged signature forgery in the Chinese Nationalist Party’s (KMT) recall campaign constitutes “political persecution.” I sincerely hope he goes through with it. The opposition currently holds a majority in the Legislative Yuan, so the initiation of a no-confidence motion and its passage should be entirely within reach. If Chiang truly believes that the government is overreaching, abusing its power and targeting political opponents — then