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.
I came to Taiwan to pursue my degree thinking that Taiwanese are “friendly,” but I was welcomed by Taiwanese classmates laughing at my friend’s name, Maria (瑪莉亞). At the time, I could not understand why they were mocking the name of Jesus’ mother. Later, I learned that “Maria” had become a stereotype — a shorthand for Filipino migrant workers. That was because many Filipino women in Taiwan, especially those who became house helpers, happen to have that name. With the rapidly increasing number of foreigners coming to Taiwan to work or study, more Taiwanese are interacting, socializing and forming relationships with
Whether in terms of market commonality or resource similarity, South Korea’s Samsung Electronics Co is the biggest competitor of Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Co (TSMC). The two companies have agreed to set up factories in the US and are also recipients of subsidies from the US CHIPS and Science Act, which was signed into law by former US president Joe Biden. However, changes in the market competitiveness of the two companies clearly reveal the context behind TSMC’s investments in the US. As US semiconductor giant Intel Corp has faced continuous delays developing its advanced processes, the world’s two major wafer foundries, TSMC and
Earlier signs suggest that US President Donald Trump’s policy on Taiwan is set to move in a more resolute direction, as his administration begins to take a tougher approach toward America’s main challenger at the global level, China. Despite its deepening economic woes, China continues to flex its muscles, including conducting provocative military drills off Taiwan, Australia and Vietnam recently. A recent Trump-signed memorandum on America’s investment policy was more about the China threat than about anything else. Singling out the People’s Republic of China (PRC) as a foreign adversary directing investments in American companies to obtain cutting-edge technologies, it said
The recent termination of Tibetan-language broadcasts by Voice of America (VOA) and Radio Free Asia (RFA) is a significant setback for Tibetans both in Tibet and across the global diaspora. The broadcasts have long served as a vital lifeline, providing uncensored news, cultural preservation and a sense of connection for a community often isolated by geopolitical realities. For Tibetans living under Chinese rule, access to independent information is severely restricted. The Chinese government tightly controls media and censors content that challenges its narrative. VOA and RFA broadcasts have been among the few sources of uncensored news available to Tibetans, offering insights
RSS