SOMEWHERE between the menopause and birdsong on morning radio last week, a rummage in the stories-not-about-Brexit bucket turned up the topic of names.

It seems there’s a trend in the US to give children a “placeholder” name at birth, allowing them to change this to one they prefer when they’re old enough to choose. No doubt it won’t be long before this flotsam floats across the Pond and is washed up on these shores.

John Duffy, a Chicago psychologist, told the New York Times he has noticed a rise in children with placeholder names and has worked with children who have been allowed and encouraged to change their names to ones that they feel represent them better.

“I think it is an artefact of parents, very consciously, allowing their kids as much control over their identity as possible,” said Duffy. “Parents have told me that they feel presumptuous naming their child, not knowing for certain what he or she may want.”

Carole Lieberman, a child psychiatrist and parenting expert in California, also has concerns. She said: “These parents are rebelling against tradition just for the thrill of it without realising how much they are harming their kids. Children who have a placeholder name or no name would feel like they have no identity and would surely suffer psychological problems.”

She suggests a better choice is for people to legally change their name when they’re more mature.

Of course, this option has always been available, but, having missed the hyped-up lifestyle-choice boat, it has not become fashionable.

But what’s really in a name? Admittedly, it must be miserable being lumbered with a name you dislike. I went through a phase of wishing I’d been named anything but Roxanne around the time when That Police Song was released. Forty years on and still complete strangers feel an uncontrollable urge to sing it when they meet me. I’m kinda getting used to it now.

My biggest moniker challenge has been fitting my name into forms, thanks to the addition of Elizabeth in the middle. I feel for Sixtus Dominic Boniface Christopher Rees-Mogg. My masterstroke was to find a husband with a four-letter surname. I now laugh in the face of forms.

Back in Beverly Hills, the debate rages on. Clinical psychologist Tiffany Towers (surely a name lovingly crafted by the bearer) said she understands why parents may want to allow their children to choose or change their names.

She suggests it can be either an attempt to empower their children or to avoid the pressure of assigning a name to their offspring, adding that perhaps parents don’t want to feel responsible for their child being bullied for having a weird name, or they fear that their child will resent them for their name.

Oh, please. Everyone knows there is no such thing as a parental get-out clause and our kids will ultimately blame us for everything anyway.

I shudder to think what name our son would have opted for, given the choice. It would, at various points, have swung between a Pokemon character, a dinosaur and a football player.

Then again, Pikachu Diplodocus Drogba does have a certain ring.