Bill would allow state to record accurate names
To some people, “Lucía” and “Lucia” might seem like the same name. But take away the accent mark, one of several symbols used to indicate correct pronunciation (known as diacritics) and you have a different name altogether — in spelling, origin and pronunciation.
For people whose names don’t contain diacritics or punctuation, this might seem like an inconsequential nuance, a typographical error at best. But for millions of people across the country, these marks are the difference between true self-identification and losing a piece of their identity.
California, one of the most racially and ethnically diverse states in the country, doesn’t allow diacritics to be included in state vital records. That needs to change.
The 1986 passage of Proposition 63 made English the official state language and prohibited diacritics in vital records, such as birth, death and marriage certificates. For example, the 2023 Office of Vital Records Birth and Death Registration Handbook states that forms are “to be completed using the 26 alphabetical characters of the English language” and that “diacritical marks — any of various marks added to a letter to indicate its pronunciation or to distinguish it in some way” are unacceptable. So someone who names their child Lucía can’t have that reflected on a birth certificate — the child’s name will officially be Lucia. It’s the equivalent of parents choosing the name “Sean” for their child to honor the family’s Irish heritage but being told by the government that only “Shaun” is acceptable.
Notably, hyphens and apostrophes are exempt from this restriction, so if your surname is O’Malley, your birth certificate will reflect that accurately. But if your surname is Núñez, you’re out of luck.
These restrictions are not just happening in California. The Minnesota Department of Health, for example, states in its Instructions to Register Your Child’s Birth that names submitted for a birth certificate may include no more than three words (a first, middle, and last name), no more than 50 characters for each of the three names and only “letters from the Modern English alphabet,” with spaces, apostrophes and hyphens being the only additional elements permitted. Despite these restrictions, the document advises applicants they can give their child “any name you choose” and instructs applicants to “provide accurate information.”
How applicants are supposed to do this, given the state’s restrictions, is left for them to guess.
It’s a similar story at the federal level. The U.S. State Department’s policy on name usage for passport applications provides that the reviewing official must cross out any diacritics on an application “even if they appear on the applicant’s evidence of citizenship/nationality or ID” because the government’s computer system does not support them. Officials are told to do this despite the policy’s statement that one of its objectives is “to reflect the applicant’s actual name usage.”
Such restrictions have effects beyond causing frustration. Names don’t just serve as a way for people to identify themselves and be identified by others. Rather, names (for oneself or one’s child) are often a deeply personal and expressive decision that can have roots in religious or cultural practices. A limitation on diacritics in governmental records denies individuals the ability to engage in this expression.
Fortunately, in California, there has been a movement to change things for the better.
AB2156, introduced by Assembly Member Blanca Pacheco, D-Downey (Los Angeles County), in February, would require the State Registrar of Vital Statistics, starting Jan. 1, 2027, to record names with diacritics, such as accents, tildes, graves, umlauts and cedillas on birth and death certificates, and marriage licenses and certificates. It would also allow the correction of existing documents with names that have not been accurately recorded because of the absence of a diacritic.
The primary objection to this effort appears not to be that such a change would be impermissible but that it would be expensive. When a similar bill was introduced in the previous legislative session, California state agencies estimated that about $2.5 million in funding would be required over two years to update state computer systems, with additional costs at the local level. Such concerns are understandable. But it’s also important to consider the costs of not making this change. Besides creating inaccuracies in government records, the status quo signals who matters and who doesn’t. By not recognizing some names simply because of how they are spelled, the state is essentially telling some residents that they don’t have the right to choose their own names.
California is but one example of how the design of a government records system can have the same effect as an official naming policy. Decisions about what characters or words a system will accept communicate what names will be officially recognized. Respect for individuals requires a different approach. Systems should adapt to how we choose to name ourselves, not the other way around.