What's in a name?

Much is made about the names—or lack thereof—for the railroads of the 21st century. Typically, the biggest target is Burlington Northern Santa Fe, err... I mean, BNSF Railway. Somewhere along the line, the full name fell out of favor and was replaced simply by initials. In doing so, the railroad left behind years of tradition brought to it by merger partners Burlington Northern (itself a combination of older names) and Santa Fe Railway.
 
Santa Fe, of course, had the famous warbonnet paint scheme, and a tradition of passenger service excellence that was deeply embedded in popular culture, thanks to Fred Harvey and the photos of movies stars boarding its trains. Burlington Northern, meanwhile, could claim the distinction of being a Vancouver-to-Gulf Coast railroad long before Canadian National made it to New Orleans. BN made money by the fistful off Powder River Basin coal traffic, and was a merger success at a time when others (such as Penn Central) were floundering.  
 
When it comes to names, railroaders hardly acknowledge their new employers’ identities, either out of tradition or practicality. You'll still hear yardmasters talk about delivering interchange to "the Chessie" or "the Southern" rather than CSX or Norfolk Southern. Tracks retain names from three or four uses prior. The "Icehouse Lead" hasn't seen a reefer in 30 years, much less an ice-cooled one, but the name still sticks.
 
Tradition in railroading is, often, unbreakable, and may even color the reality of the past. Railfans look back fondly at decades past. There were burbling Alcos on the main lines, cabooses on every train, and friendly tower operators and station agents. And yet the railroads were in a dark, dark place. Customers fled for trucks, losses mounted, and infrastructure crumbled, literally under the quaint trains of yore.
 
Today, traffic is setting records, the rails are safer than they’ve ever been, and railroads are pouring billions—with a “B”—into their physical plant. If there ever were a time to break from tradition, it would be now.
 
But railfans will still be the first to speak up and say the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe stood for something. And yet, the railroad forsook two of the three cities in its name, even storied Santa Fe, N.M., itself. So then the name must stand for the ideal of what service should be, and not exactly what it spells out. If so, why can’t “BNSF Railway” stand for the same ideals? As it turns out, it does. In a 2012 television commercial, BNSF touts itself as "the engine that connects us."
 
A few weeks ago I attended the Midwest Association of Rail Shippers' winter meeting in suburban Chicago. (Twice a year, railroad and industry officials in the region meet to discuss news and trends and better understand each other’s perspective.) As the presentations went on, a curious thing happened: I became aware of the futility of BNSF's rebranding efforts.
 
None of the participants, neither shippers nor other railroads, said "BNSF Railway" once. There was talk of the “the Burlington,” "the BN," or simply "Burlington Northern," but not of the present company. What's more, not one spoke of "the Santa Fe" colloquially, either. Not in presentations, not in conversations on breaks. Not even in the old Santa Fe’s hometown. (Maybe 15 years of using the "BNI" ticker symbol has something to do with it.)
 
The railfan community makes much of the need to resurrect the "Santa Fe brand." But why? Even the captains of industry don’t see the need for it, and they are the only one to who brand really matters, the ones paying for the service.
 
Maybe, just maybe, it's time for everyone to move on.