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Did you know that the collective noun for pandas is an embarrassment?  So, when you see more than one of them you can say “Oh, look – it’s an embarrassment of pandas”.  Lions get a pride.  Owls get a parliament. And hippos get a thunder.  Meanwhile, pandas get an embarrassment.  (Image Credit)

While there is no doubt that the antics of any family member can leave relatives slack-jawed in bewildered puzzlement, a question must be asked here. Is it fair to condemn a whole species because of the actions of just a few?  At Ark in Space, we think not.  It is time that this gross injustice was exposed, overturned and ended.  Today we begin the search for a new, worthier collective noun for Ailuropoda melanoleuca, otherwise know as the Giant Panda.  You will be able to vote for your current favorite or suggest your own at the end of this article.

And yet. Before we move on, let’s take a moment to acknowledge that yes, pandas in general are somewhat prone to doing things that could be considered embarrassing.  They love climbing, but they aren’t very good at it.  They like rolling down slopes, even if the slope is, in fact, an abyss. They get stuck in awkward places where it might be assumed a panda of average size could not fit.  There is so much evidence stacked against them that panda fail compilations are all over the internet. Here’s just one of them…

So perhaps it is no surprise that when a panda is encountered, it often looks… embarrassed.

They are, after all, clumsy.

 

They do, after all, often get stuck at peculiar angles.

 

And when they do, they’re not really sure what to do about it.

 

So the remainers argue.  The name is correct, so they say, because it captures the awkward, clumsy charm of the panda perfectly.  We would argue this is not the case.  To begin with. the name doesn't reflect their charm; it implies shame. It mocks rather than celebrates. Pandas may be uncoordinated, but they are also iconic, peaceful, and frankly endearing. They deserve a collective noun that honours their uniqueness, not one that invites ridicule.

Let’s argue the case for a change.  First of all, these collective nouns are not fixed.  There is no Academy for Collective Nouns that decides and enforces the “official terms”.  While we can see that the floodgates might open (crows would be queuing up, for sure), surely a special case can be made for the panda?

Collective nouns have their origin in the Middle Ages, in the Book of Saint Albans, which was a kind of handbook for gentlemen on the subject of hunting, heraldry and angling.  It was published in 1486 and at least part of it was written by a woman, Juliana Berners (this was highly unusual for the time).  Although not known for sure, many attribute the authorship of the book in its entirety to her.  There is an appendix in the book,  Compaynys of beestys and fowlys, which is the first attempt in the English language to produce a list of collective nouns for animals (as well, oddly, for professions, such as “a sentence of judges”.  Many of these were meant humorously and it is  suspected that Berners made quite a few of them up as she wrote.

Pandas are not on that list.  It is unlikely that Berners had heard of the species, let alone seen a living specimen.  The collective noun for pandas seems to have taken root at the end of the twentieth century – and the internet is most likely to blame.

Of course, the blatantly obvious question is - do pandas feel embarrassment themselves when they do something a little silly? If they do, then perhaps we should leave well alone. However, until a panda writes a memoir or gives a TED Talk, we have to accept that any sense of embarrassment we attribute to them is entirely our own. It's classic anthropomorphism: projecting human feelings onto animals for our own amusement or understanding. And while that can be charming, it shouldn’t justify saddling an entire species with a collective noun that leans more toward mockery than admiration. 

As an aside, yes, we understand that collective nouns are essentially anthropomorphic, but that doesn’t mean they can’t evolve. If we’re going to assign human traits to animals, let’s at least choose ones that reflect admiration, respect, or playful affection. Language is always changing, and there’s no reason a creature as iconic as the panda should be stuck with a label that sounds more like a punchline than a tribute.

There are some alternatives.  First of all, there is a cupboard of pandas.  You may ask why.  Perhaps it came about to describe the clumsiness of the animal.  It’s anyone’s guess, really.

Next there is a bamboo of pandas, reflecting their food source.  Although it is a term that is both cute and playful, it doesn’t really tie in with the way other collective nouns have been created, which do not include the food an animal eats, rather a noun (sometimes an abstract one, such as a convocation of eagles) that reflects or suggest the perceived character, behavior, or symbolism of the animal they describe.  So, a bamboo of pandas doesn’t really work, despite their fondness for their primary food source.

A sleuth of pandas is sometimes occasionally used.   This is y extension from "a sleuth of bears" - since pandas are technically bears. This is more accurate than some of the alternatives, but less widely used.  And rightly so – the panda deserves a collective noun of its own.

Very occasionally used is “a cuddle of pandas”.  Now, while this may seem on the right track, is it really?  They look cuddly, what with their big round faces and soft fur (although it is a lot coarser and thicker than it looks).  And baby pandas are ridiculously cute.  They look like living teddy bears, for goodness sake.

Yet, in the wild, pandas are solitary and territorial.  They can become aggressive towards another panda if it unwittingly wanders into its territory.  This is true especially when it comes to food or during mating season.  Moreover, despite having an image of docility, pandas have very strong jaws and sharp teeth, not to mention strong limbs.  They can swat and bite if they feel threatened.  So, perhaps not a “cuddle” – and as for us, they tolerate us in captivity.  In the wild, pandas are very wary of people and on the whole want absolutely nothing to do with us at all.

Here are three suggestions.  We would like to hear from you in the comments, too, as you will come up with some great ideas.  If you could, please explain why you feel your chosen noun should be the one to replace “embarrassment”.

A Tumble of Pandas

This could reflect the panda’s clumsy nature - their proclivity to  fall, roll and generally goof around.  While this could be the perfect collective noun, we are a little concerned that this may prolong unfair stereotypes of panda gawkiness.

A Lounge of Pandas

Pandas spend an awful lot of time eating, resting and generally avoiding any effort whatsoever.  We could learn a thing or two from them, in this respect, so a collective noun that encapsulates their laissez-fair attitude to the world going on around them would be appropriate.

A Duality of Pandas

A somewhat poetic idea that even opposites (in this case their black and white markings) can exist peacefully — like yin and yang.

 

Do you have any (better) ideas? Surely, somewhere out there is the person who will come up with, on behalf of pandas everywhere, the perfect collective noun that epitomizes this wonderful species. Alternatively, vote in our poll below (no sign in needed, no data collected!).