Updated October 11, 2026

Illustration: Quartz
The same two names have topped the U.S. rankings for years running — Liam for boys, Olivia for girls — and neither shows signs of slipping. That durability is the defining trait of the most popular baby names in the U.S. right now. The coined names and respelled variants that crowded the rankings in the 2000s have given way to short, familiar names that are easy to spell out loud. Once a name of that kind reaches number one, it tends to hold the spot.
The rankings come from the Social Security Administration, which builds its annual list from the first name on every Social Security card application filed for a child born in the U.S. that year. These are not survey results, sample estimates or projections drawn from a subset of hospitals. The count is close to complete, which is why the SSA list serves as the reference point for anyone tracking how American naming habits change.
Those habits are worth watching beyond the obvious audience of expecting parents. Name data doubles as a record of cultural change. Nature-derived names like Luna and Willow keep climbing. Early 20th-century names that sat unused for three generations are back in circulation. Names stamped with a particular decade are fading, and the line between boys' and girls' names keeps eroding. Demographers read the lists to date birth cohorts. Marketers and product namers check them to see which sounds register as current.
What follows is a look at the names sitting at or near the top of U.S. birth records, along with the categories pushing newer names upward. Some entries are long-settled leaders that have barely moved in a decade. Others are trend groups — vintage revivals, single-syllable boys' names, surnames used as first names — that point to where the next wave of top-10 names will come from. All of it traces back to a single source: what American parents actually wrote on the form.
Liam leads the boys' list for another year

Illustration: Quartz
Liam has been the most popular boys' name in the U.S. since 2017, when it displaced Noah at the top of the Social Security Administration's annual rankings. It has held first place every year since.
The name is a shortened form of the Irish Uilliam, which is itself the Irish form of William. For much of the 20th century it worked as a nickname rather than a legal given name, and many American men known as Liam were registered at birth as William. That has changed. Parents now write Liam on the birth certificate with no longer version behind it — part of a wider pattern in which short forms such as Jack, Max, and Theo have moved onto official documents as names in their own right.
Its structure explains much of the appeal. Four letters, one syllable, a single accepted spelling, and a pronunciation that does not shift across regions or accents. The respelled names that filled the rankings in the late 1990s and early 2000s worked the opposite way, letting one sound be written several different ways. The current top of the boys' list rewards names that a teacher, a pharmacist, or a stranger on the phone can spell on the first attempt.
Liam's reach extends well beyond the U.S. It has ranked among the leading boys' names in Canada, Australia, and Ireland in recent years, which suggests the appeal is not tied to one American cultural moment. Names that peak because of a single film, athlete, or television character tend to climb quickly and fall just as quickly. Liam did neither. It moved up gradually through the 2000s, reached the top 10 in the early 2010s, and has stayed at number one since without the volatility that follows a sharp, media-driven spike.
William itself has remained in the top 10 in recent years, so the Irish short form and the full-length original now sit in the same tier of the list rather than functioning as alternatives to each other.
Olivia holds the top spot for girls

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Olivia has led the Social Security Administration's girls' list since 2019, when it passed Emma for the number one spot. It arrived there through a long, steady climb rather than a sudden jump.
The name comes from the Latin word for olive, and its spread through English is usually credited to Shakespeare, who used it for a central character in "Twelfth Night." That four-century paper trail keeps Olivia from sounding attached to any single decade, which is part of why it has aged well.
Olivia also belongs to a group of girls' names ending in an open "a" sound — Amelia, Sophia, Mia, Ava, and Isabella among them. Several of those sit in the top 10 at the same time, which points to a phonetic preference rather than enthusiasm for one name. The cluster has risen and held together instead of its members trading places sharply from year to year.
How Olivia climbed is as telling as where it landed. Names that spike after a film role, a hit song, or a celebrity birth usually fall at about the speed they rose, because the appeal rests on one trigger that fades. Olivia gained ground across the 2000s and 2010s in every region of the country rather than concentrating in one, and that kind of broad growth tends to produce a longer run at the top.
Its reach extends well past the U.S. Olivia has ranked at or near the top of the girls' list in England and Wales for years, and it performs strongly in Australia, Canada, and New Zealand. The name also gives parents Liv or Livvy as short forms without any awkward clipping, while the full version reads the same on a kindergarten name tag and a business card. That combination of flexibility and formality is rare among names that reach number one.
Noah remains a top boys' choice

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Noah sits just behind Liam on the Social Security Administration's boys' list, and it held the number one spot itself from 2013 through 2016 before Liam took over in 2017. Few boys' names have stayed in the top tier that long without a single cultural moment behind them.
Much of the reach comes from the name's origins. Noah appears in Jewish, Christian, and Islamic tradition, which gives it recognition across households with very different religious backgrounds and households with none at all. That breadth also shows up abroad: Noah ranks high in France, Spain, and Germany, where it reads as familiar rather than borrowed from an American list.
The climb was gradual rather than sudden. Noah sat well outside the upper ranks through the 1980s, moved up steadily across the 1990s and 2000s, and reached number one roughly two decades later. Names that travel that far usually either fall back quickly or settle in. Noah settled in. A name that becomes widely familiar without attaching itself to a celebrity child, a television character, or a news event has little to fall out of.
Noah also carries no decade stamp. Hearing it offers no clue whether the person is five or 35, unlike Brandon or Tyler, which place a birth year inside a narrow window. Parents treat that neutrality as insurance. A name that will not sound dated on a résumé in 2050 is a safer bet than one riding a current wave.
The structure helps as well. Noah runs two syllables and four letters, with no competing spelling in wide use. Variant spellings split other names across several entries in the rankings — Aiden, Aidan, and Ayden are each counted separately — while Noah's total reflects a single spelling. That consolidation keeps it visibly high even in years when the number of babies given the name dips. The spelling also travels without adjustment across English, French, and Spanish.
Emma continues as a top girls' name

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Emma has ranked among the top girls' names in the U.S. for well over a decade. That stretch includes a multi-year run at number one before Olivia moved ahead. Its place in the Social Security Administration's current rankings has barely shifted, making it one of the steadiest entries on the list.
The name is Germanic in origin, built from roots meaning whole or universal, and it entered English use centuries before its modern revival. It functioned for a long period as a short form of longer Germanic names beginning with Erm- or Irm- before standing on its own. Its strongest literary anchor is Jane Austen's 1815 novel Emma, adapted repeatedly for film and television, which keeps the name in circulation across generations of readers and viewers. That continuous presence separates Emma from names tied to a single recent character or celebrity, which tend to spike and then fade within a few years.
Emma also sits in a sound category American parents have favored since the early 2000s: two syllables, soft consonants, an open vowel at the end. Ava, Mia, and Ella follow the same pattern, and all four have occupied the upper reaches of the girls' list during the same period. Parents appear to be choosing a sound profile as much as any one name's associations.
Its reach extends past the U.S. Emma has ranked among the leading girls' names in Germany, France, and Sweden at points over the past 15 years. The spelling needs no adjustment in any of those countries, and the pronunciation stays close enough across languages that the name survives the crossing intact. The U.S. climb itself began in the 1990s and took more than a decade to reach number one — a gradual build rather than a sudden jump.
That portability carries more weight now than it did a generation ago. Parents thinking about how a name will work in an international classroom or workplace tend to favor options that require no explanation. Emma clears that bar, which helps account for its long run near the top of the U.S. rankings.
Oliver holds steady near the top for boys

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Oliver has ranked among the most-used boys' names in the U.S. since the early 2010s, settling into the upper tier of Social Security Administration rankings rather than peaking and fading the way fast-climbing names often do.
The name reached that position in Britain first. Oliver led the boys' charts in England and Wales for several years during the 2010s, ahead of its comparable standing in American data. That order repeats across many names. British preferences tend to surface in U.S. rankings a few years later, carried by television, film, and the steady traffic of U.K. culture into American homes.
Etymology gives Oliver a pairing advantage. The name is commonly linked to the Latin word for olive tree, a plant tied historically to peace, which places it in the same family as Olivia. An alternative line of descent runs through the Old Norse name Áleifr, later reshaped by French spelling. Either reading leaves parents treating Oliver and Olivia as a matched set, one reason the two have climbed along roughly parallel lines.
Literary history keeps Oliver recognizable without fixing it to a single era. Charles Dickens began publishing "Oliver Twist" in serial form in 1837, and the title character has stayed in circulation through stage musicals and film adaptations in the generations since. The name never became shorthand for that one character, which is part of why it reads as neutral rather than borrowed.
The practical draw is a formal name with a ready-made short form. Oliver fits a diploma and a soccer roster equally well, and it shortens to Ollie without the nickname feeling forced. Parents today often look for that two-register quality — the same trait that lets Theodore become Theo and Henry become Harry. A name that moves easily between settings tends to hold its rank longer than one locked into a single tone.
Charlotte remains a leading choice for girls

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Charlotte sits in the top five of the Social Security Administration's girls' list, a position it reached after a steep climb in the mid-2010s and has held since.
The name is the French feminine form of Charles, formed as a diminutive in the same way Juliette derives from Jules. That lineage ties it to Caroline, which has kept a place in the U.S. top 100 for years, though Caroline has never approached Charlotte's current rank.
Royal visibility helped. Princess Charlotte was born in May 2015, and U.S. usage of the name registered an uptick in the years that followed. The effect is easy to overstate. Charlotte had already reached the top 10 before that birth, which suggests the royal arrival sped up a climb already underway rather than starting one. Royal names tend to work that way — they amplify a choice parents were warming to instead of introducing an unfamiliar one.
Charlotte also fits the current preference for longer, formal girls' names over the clipped or respelled options common in the 1990s. Parents get a full-length name for official documents and two short forms for daily use: Lottie, which sounds old-fashioned, and Charlie, which sounds casual and works for either gender. One name covers several registers.
The word carries other associations familiar to American parents. Charlotte, North Carolina, takes its name from Queen Charlotte, consort of King George III. Charlotte Brontë gives it a literary anchor, and E.B. White's 1952 children's novel "Charlotte's Web" attached the name to a sympathetic character for generations of U.S. readers. None of these alone moves the rankings, but together they make the name feel known rather than novel.
Close to a decade of steady placement near the top suggests Charlotte has crossed out of trend territory. It now behaves more like Elizabeth — a name that holds a reliable share of births across generations instead of spiking and fading.
Nature-inspired names keep climbing the charts

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Luna, Willow, and Hazel have each climbed substantially in the Social Security Administration's rankings over the past decade, with Luna reaching the top 10 for girls. Names taken straight from the natural world now make up one of the clearest growth areas in current U.S. naming data.
Luna is the Latin word for moon, and it arrives without family-lineage or saint-name obligations attached. Its pull is pictorial rather than ancestral, and that is the thread running through the entire group. A parent choosing Luna is choosing an image, not honoring a grandparent or continuing a religious tradition.
Willow takes its name from a tree associated with bending instead of breaking, and that association comes built into the word. Its soft consonants and two-syllable shape sit comfortably beside the vowel-heavy girls' names already crowding the upper ranks, which gives it an easy fit with the current sound profile of the list.
Hazel occupies two categories at once. It names a tree, a nut, and an eye color, and it was also a top-25 girls' name in the U.S. during the first two decades of the 20th century. That double identity extends its reach to parents drawn to botanical names and to parents drawn to names their great-grandmothers would recognize.
The boys' side follows the same logic on a smaller scale. River has gained ground in SSA records without approaching the volume its counterparts reach on the girls' list, and no nature name sits near the boys' top 10. The category still skews heavily toward girls in U.S. practice, even as the underlying idea spreads.
What sets this group apart from other rising categories is where the names come from. They were not inherited from earlier generations of Americans and later rediscovered. They were lifted from plants, weather, landscape, and sky, which leaves parents with a nearly open-ended supply. Ivy, Juniper, Sage, Aspen, and Wren all work from the same template, and fresh entries surface in the data year after year.
Vintage names are returning to the top tier

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Three names that fell out of use during the mid-20th century — Henry, Theodore, and Eleanor — now sit in the upper reaches of the Social Security Administration rankings. Henry holds a place in or near the top 10 for boys, and Theodore has made one of the steepest climbs of the past 15 years.
Generational distance drives these returns. A name that saturates one birth cohort reads as dated to the parents of the next, and dated again a generation after that. Once roughly a century has passed, the association sits far enough back that the name feels inherited rather than secondhand. Henry was heavily used among boys born in the late 1800s and early 1900s, faded through the middle decades of the 20th century, and has risen steadily since the early 2000s.
Theodore follows the same arc with an added advantage. The full form carries the weight of a 19th-century given name, while the short form Theo sounds current on its own, letting parents decide how old-fashioned the name feels on any given day. Eleanor works the same way for girls, carrying historical substance through figures such as Eleanor Roosevelt while shortening to Nell or Ellie. Evelyn and Violet have traveled comparable routes back up the girls' list.
These revivals share one trait: no recent cultural fingerprint. Names that peaked within living memory — Jennifer, Jason, Ashley, Brian — still signal a specific decade, and that association keeps them off most shortlists for now. A name has to be old enough that it does not call to mind a classmate or a co-worker.
That timing test explains why the current crop of revivals skews toward the 1900s and 1910s, and why names that dominated the 1950s and 1960s have yet to follow. Arthur and Frances come from the same earlier era and remain well outside the top tier for now.
Short, single-syllable names gain ground for boys

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Levi, Jack, and Finn have all gained ground among U.S. boys over the past decade, part of a broader preference for names that fit into one or two syllables. Levi now sits inside the top 20 on the Social Security Administration's boys' list, a level it never reached at any point in the 20th century.
The appeal is partly practical. A short name cannot be shortened further. What goes on the birth certificate is what the child uses at school, at work, and everywhere else. Jack shows how that works. It began as a medieval English pet form of John, then broke away from it entirely. It now stands as a complete given name with no formal version waiting behind it.
Levi's climb follows the wider return of Old Testament names, though it arrived later than the names that opened that door. Levi appears in the Torah as the third son of Jacob and the ancestor of the priestly tribe. The name carried into American usage through 19th-century Jewish and Protestant families alike. Levi Strauss, the Bavarian-born founder of the denim company, was among the Americans who bore it. For much of the 20th century the name read as old-fashioned. Parents now hear it as compact and current.
Finn comes from a different tradition. It traces to Irish mythology and the hero Fionn mac Cumhaill. It also works as a short form of Finnegan, Finley, and Finbar, which gives it several routes onto the list. Its rise in the U.S. has been steady rather than sudden.
Brevity showed up on the girls' side first. Mia reached the girls' top 10 by the end of the 2000s, and Ivy has since worked its way into the top 100. What separates the boys' version is that it runs alongside the opposite pattern. Long, formal names such as Alexander and Benjamin hold their ground near the top. Both patterns are growing at once, rather than one displacing the other.
Unisex names continue gaining broader acceptance

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Avery, Rowan, and Emerson all appear in meaningful numbers on both the boys' and girls' sides of the Social Security Administration list. Avery ranks far higher for girls than for boys, yet stays in regular use for both. Names that once signaled a child's sex on sight increasingly signal nothing of the kind.
Much of this category entered American naming through the same route: family surnames repurposed as first names. Avery began as an English surname, Emerson traces back to a patronymic meaning son of Emery, and Mackenzie comes from a Scottish clan name. Surnames were never assigned by sex, so they moved into the first-name pool without the gender coding attached to a name like Margaret or Edward. That absence of coding is what makes them portable.
Rowan carries the least lopsided split of the three. The name is tied to the rowan tree and has deep roots in Irish and Scottish naming, and it registers on both the boys' and girls' rankings rather than sitting almost entirely on one side. Emerson follows a narrower version of the same pattern, holding a place on each list.
What separates this shift from the other movements reshaping the rankings is that it is structural rather than cyclical. Vintage names return because enough time has passed for an old name to feel new again, and that pendulum eventually swings back. Gender-neutral naming reflects a change in what a name is expected to communicate at all. Sound and meaning now carry more weight than the older convention that a first name should announce a child's sex before anyone meets them.
The traffic tends to move in one direction. A name that gains ground among girls rarely recovers the share it once held among boys, which is why Ashley, Leslie, and Shannon now read as female to most American ears. Each spent part of the 19th or 20th century in male use before the balance tipped. Whether Rowan and Emerson hold their current split or follow the same route is the open question in this part of the list.
