Spike

Most baby names turn up dressed for a christening. Spike turns up in a leather jacket.

It is about as English and as no-nonsense as a name gets, borrowed straight from the everyday word for a sharp point or a great big nail. There is no misty ancient court behind it and no tangled etymology to squint at: it means precisely what it says, and it says it with attitude. As a name it started life as a nickname, the sort you earned for spiky hair, a spikier temper, or simply for refusing to answer to anything softer.

What Spike lacks in official chart positions it more than makes up for in sheer character. You will not find it perched high on the national popularity lists, and honestly that is half the appeal: it is the name equivalent of calling your kid after the interesting one in the band. It is short, it is loud, and it never once needs a nickname, because it is basically already one.

And the company it keeps is a joy. There is Spike Milligan, the gleefully anarchic comedian who built a whole career out of refusing to grow up, and Spike Lee, the American film director with an opinion on absolutely everything and the talent to back it up. Add Spike Jonze to the roll call and you have a little club of Spikes with one trait in common: not one of them ever did anything quietly.

Naturally it arrives with a certain vibe. Spike is a playground name, a rockstar name, a name for a child you rather suspect will have strong feelings about their haircut by the age of four. It sits happily among the other punchy, no-frills picks: your Rockys, your Busters, your Jetts. Soft and delicate it is not, and that is entirely the point.

So, is Spike the one? Probably only if you are a little bit brave, a little bit contrary, and secretly delighted by the thought of shouting it across a crowded supermarket. That is the joy and the agony of choosing a baby name: some are safe as houses, and others, like this one, quietly dare you to be interesting. A sharp choice, if you have the nerve for it.