Apollo, Hermes, Ares, Minerva. The world of real estate is haunted by the ancient gods, their names becoming some of the best-known brands in the industry.
In December, another Olympian entered the mythos, courtesy of Federated Hermes’ build-to-rent platform. The company had been operating BTR assets for some four years, says Will Gibby, director of fund management, but the team now wanted that division to have its own brand.
Several names were considered, reflecting ESG and various aspirations and values. “There was, however, one factor above all, and that was that it all started with what a home means,” Gibby says. “Stability. In the end, with that in mind, we landed on the name Hestia, after the Greek goddess.”
Hermes is itself named after one of the most recognised Greek gods, the winged messenger and son of Zeus, the lord of orators and merchants. Hestia, meanwhile, is the goddess of the hearth and home. Not the palace, but the simple dwelling. The earthiness and, well, homeliness of Hestia also appealed to Gibby. “Hestia is not aspirational like many of our competitors. It is about homes that provide a stable foundation upon which people can then achieve their potential.”
To Jeremy Miller, head of the StickyBranding consultancy and author of Brand New Name, such names are a great choice. “These names have always been popular,” he says. “You look at that body of literature, it’s got immense stories, characters.”
Google your gods
The companies that first started plundering the classical world in the 1960s and 70s found a treasure trove of name recognition and unearned gravitas. Of course, Greek gods being Greek gods, there are quite a few negative connotations once you dig a little deeper. Take Hermes, for example. It’s a popular name, adopted not only by the BT pension scheme but also the parcel delivery firm and the fancy scarf people.
But he is also Hermes Dolios, the Greek pantheon’s trickster god, putting him up there with Loki and Anansi. Any student of the classics will tell you he is utterly untrustworthy. In fact, literally shifty. His Roman counterpart is Mercury, after all. To Homer and Hesiod, he was the Master of Thieves, of whom he is the protector and patron. To Euripides he was The Deceiver.
Which is perhaps not such a great association for Federated Hermes, which is entrusted with managing $645bn (£470bn) of assets and advising on $1.75tn.
Oddly, there is almost no mythology about Hestia. She has no adventures, no wild affairs. She produced no offspring, helped no heroes and Zeus never once tried to seduce her. But actually, Miller argues, no one really cares. “How many people actually know that Hestia is a goddess? Or that Ares is the god of war? If you did know it, did you have to Google it?”
In reality, the name is just the start of a process. Miller compares it to a vessel gradually filled with content until, hopefully, the company becomes more recognisable than the god it nicked the brand name from. Like Nike. When you think of Nike do you think winged goddess of victory or trainers?
But there is nonetheless something remarkably sticky about the gods. There are literally hundreds, and perhaps thousands, of property firms named after the Olympians alone.
Zeus Living is the Airbnb-backed titan of short-term rentals, while Hera is a property management firm in Essex. The mighty Poseidon is a UK-based, family owned investor/developer. Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom, now builds RV parks in the US, advises on international sales from the UK and manages properties in southern California.
Apollo manages $48bn of real estate assets, while his sister Artemis has purchased some $8bn worth. The warlike Ares now manages $34bn of property debt. The goddess of love, Aphrodite, lends her name to a property investor in north London, as well as several US realtors with high self-worth. Demeter, the goddess of the spring, now lives in Tampa, Florida, although her UK counterpart is sadly dormant. Even Dionysus gets a look in, both as a small propco and a lettings agency in Plymouth.
Heroes are well-represented too, with Achilles, Hercules and Perseus all lending their name, but not so much for Bellerophon or Jason.
Even the villains get a name-check, with Medusa, Gorgon, Chimera and Medea all lending their names to the industry.
The Romans get almost as much love. Juno, launched in 2019, is “reimagining America’s cities for tomorrow”. As well as being a private landlord based in Kent and a firm of conveyancing lawyers. Mars has real estate namesakes in the Netherlands and Egypt, as well as a string of companies offering to sell you a smallholding on Earth’s next-door neighbour. Vulcan Real Estate is big in Seattle, while Minerva, for a time, was one of the most high-profile developers in the UK. Until she was bought for a bargain price by none other than Ares. And Pluto Finance is the leading provider of resi development finance in the UK.
“You could call your brand Hades and the chances are that if you are a kick-ass real estate firm, it will work for you,” says Miller. “It has recognition.” Of course, there is a Hades Properties, a minnow based in Bedford and linked to Dionysus Holdings. The UK one, that is, not the three based in the US. Or the two in Australia. Or the one in Dubai.
Sorry, you’ll have to spell that
The only Olympian who doesn’t appear to be popular as a brand name for property is Hephaestus. There were a couple of UK companies named after him, but neither have been active in the past five years. Why? He was the god of real estate after all. “Yeah, good luck with that,” deadpans Miller. And he’s right.
Because Hephaestus gives the best clue to why these names might not be such a good bit of branding after all. “Nobody can spell them,” says Miller. “The ones that aren’t taken already, nobody can spell them and nobody knows who they are.”
All the good gods, then, have already been taken. “We are experiencing, for the first time in history, a naming drought,” says Miller. Last year was a record year for new companies – 800,000 in the US and 80,000 in the UK alone. And all of them need names, websites, Twitter handles… “We have co-opted and trademarked not just the pantheon of Greek and Roman mythology but the Oxford English Dictionary.”
And it doesn’t matter anymore that you are the only one in the UK. “Before the internet you could have a Zeus Property in London and a Zeus Real Estate in New York and they would never talk to each other, compete with each or really be aware of each other,” says Miller. “But the fact that we have social media, Google and websites means that these companies are essentially in the same marketplace. Naming is a freaking nightmare. Every time you find something that is great, you discover it is already taken.”
We have co-opted and trademarked not just the pantheon of Greek and Roman mythology but the Oxford English Dictionary
And there may be another problem. According to Miller, we have hit Peak God. In fact, we hit it some time ago.
“The challenge for real estate brands today is Greek and Roman mythology is so picked over, so done,” he says. “You are almost in the realm, if not fully in the realm, of cliché when you choose one of these names.”
An anecdote springs to mind. When asked why he had given his start-up a certain name, one property professional told EG: “There were no Roman or Greek gods left to take and I couldn’t find an interesting type of tree.”
But maybe there is room for just one more god of real estate.
“Hermes, Hestia…” Miller mulls. “There’s a good link there and they’ve got a naming system going on. There is real potential for another Greek H name there…”
Maybe for Federated Hermes’ alternative energy assets – Helios, perhaps? Oh, no. Already taken.
Thank the gods you aren’t an ancient Roman
Before a Roman could complete a property deal – and they loved a good property deal – there were offerings to be made. The gods would need their due. Mercury, the god of deals, naturally, but also Juno, the goddess of money, and Pluto, the lord of wealth. And Terra, the goddess of land, of course, as well as Terminus, the god of boundaries. Oh, and Concordia, or no deal could be done, Eunomia, to sanctify the contracts, and Abundatia, to ensure the deal was prosperous. And one mustn’t forget the gods of the doors, keys, hinges, cement, roof tiles and plumbing (the goddess Cloacina, since you ask). All must be suitably pacified and their priests paid. Maybe chuck in a few prayers to Felicitas while you are at it…
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