Boeing’s commercial jets are instantly recognizable by their naming pattern: the iconic 7X7 series. From the 707 that ushered in the jet age to the much-hyped future 797, Boeing’s naming conventions have become part of aviation lore. But how exactly are these names chosen, and what do the numbers and suffixes signify? This detailed analysis explores the historical evolution of Boeing’s naming system, the logic behind designators like “MAX”, “-8”, “ER” and “LR”, and how names serve both technical and marketing functions. We’ll also compare Boeing’s approach with Airbus, Embraer, and others, and examine the branding challenges Boeing faces in the modern era.
Historical Evolution of Boeing’s Naming Conventions
Boeing’s naming convention for jetliners took shape in the 1950s with its first successful commercial jet, the 707 . Prior to that, Boeing had used disparate model numbers (e.g. the Model 314 “Clipper” or Model 377 “Stratocruiser”), often accompanied by fanciful names. In the mid-20th century, as Boeing diversified into missiles, transports, and jetliners, it adopted an internal numbering system that reserved the 700-series for commercial jets . Thus when Boeing developed its jet airliner prototype in 1954 (the 367-80 “Dash 80”), the production model was designated 707, kicking off the 7X7 series.
Why 707 and not 700? The oft-cited reason is pure marketing: Boeing found that “707” simply rolled off the tongue better than “700” . The pattern of having 7 at the beginning and end of the model number was thus set – a distinctive identity for Boeing jets . The first 7 denotes Boeing’s jetliner series, the middle number is the model sequence, and the last 7 was chosen largely because it sounded good . As a result, Boeing’s subsequent airliners were numbered 717, 727, 737, 747, and so on, each retaining the 7-7 format. This format became a strong brand in itself, to the point that Boeing stuck with it for decades .
Not every number came in order. After the 707, Boeing’s next jetliner was the 727 (the middle “2” indicating it was the second model). The 717 designation was initially unused in the commercial line – Boeing skipped it in the 1950s, assigning “717” internally to a military variant of the 707 (the KC-135 tanker) . It wasn’t until much later that the 717 entered service as a commercial jet: after Boeing’s 1997 merger with McDonnell Douglas, Boeing renamed the MD-95 to Boeing 717 to fit it into the 7X7 family . Another anomaly was the Boeing 720, a shortened 707 derivative developed for shorter runways. Boeing originally planned to market it as “707-020” or even “717-020”, but eventually chose the distinct 720 label . Essentially a minor variant, the 720 broke the naming pattern but was close kin to the 707.
Through the 1960s and 70s, Boeing rolled out the 737 (third in the series, for short-haul flights) and the 747 (the fourth, a giant “Jumbo Jet”). The 747 in 1969 proved the marketing power of the 7X7 name – “747” became synonymous with the world’s first widebody and even entered pop culture as the “Queen of the Skies.” In the 1980s, Boeing introduced two new models nearly in tandem: the 757 and 767. These were the fifth and sixth generations (note the middle digits 5 and 6) . Although launched together in 1982 for different market segments (757 as a narrow-body and 767 as a wide-body), Boeing kept the sequence logical. By the 1990s, Boeing’s seventh generation came with the 777 – a number considered lucky by many and one that Boeing marketers surely appreciated for its distinctive triple-7 appearance. The 777 was indeed a sales success, and its name “Triple Seven” became a casual moniker among aviation enthusiasts.
In 2003, Boeing broke with pure numbering during development of its next jet by calling it the 7E7 (where “E” stood for Efficient or was sometimes said to mean Explorer). This was a project name used to emphasize it as a next-generation concept. However, once the plane officially launched, Boeing reverted to the classic system and named it the 787 . The 787’s number was the eighth in sequence – and notably Boeing timed its rollout on 7/8/2007 (8 July 2007) in a nod to the “7-8-7” date format. The 787 “Dreamliner” would carry Boeing’s 7X7 naming into the 21st century. As of today, all model designations from 707 through 787 have been used, leaving 797 as the only remaining 7X7 number not yet assigned to a product . Aviation watchers widely assume any new Boeing jet (such as a future middle-market aircraft) will be dubbed 797, completing the series. Boeing itself hasn’t confirmed that, but it faces pressure to maintain the familiar naming heritage in whatever comes next.
What the 7-7-7 Digits Really Mean
At first glance, Boeing’s model numbers are just incremental — yet each digit can tell a story. In the “7X7” format, the first 7 signifies Boeing commercial jet (as opposed to models in the 300s or 400s which historically were missiles or other projects) . The X (middle digit) is essentially the sequence number of the design. For example, a middle “4” means the 747 was Boeing’s fourth jetliner design . A middle “8” in 787 indicates the eighth design (even though one of the earlier numbers, 717, was retroactively applied). The last 7, as mentioned, was chosen for style and consistency – it doesn’t denote a version or variant, it’s part of the core model identity.
Thus “747” breaks down as: 7 = Boeing jet, 4 = fourth design, 7 = decorative/branding digit . Similarly “737” means Boeing jet (7), third design (3), plus the branding 7. Boeing insiders from the 1950s have recounted that had other digits sounded catchier, we might have had a different scheme – but the double-7 bookends stuck because it resonated with customers and the public .
Once a base model (707, 727, 737, etc.) is established, Boeing identifies specific variants and customer-specific builds with additional numbers or letters. Historically, Boeing used a three-digit suffix after a dash to designate the variant and the customer. For example, the 747-100, -200, -300, -400 were successive variants of the 747. These would often be written as “747-***” followed by two more digits indicating the airline customer. Up through 2016, Boeing employed a system of customer codes: each airline had a unique two-digit (or letter+digit) code that would be appended to the model designation for aircraft delivered to that airline . For instance, Qantas’s code was 38, so a 747-400 for Qantas would be listed as 747-438 . In that designation, -400 denotes the variant (747-400 series) and 38 identifies the customer (Qantas) . A Southwest Airlines 737-700 would similarly be a 737-7H4 (H4 being Southwest’s code) . Importantly, the customer code was fixed to the frame – even if the plane was sold to another airline later, the original code remained in the model nomenclature . This system allowed Boeing (and aviation geeks) to know the original customer of an aircraft at a glance, but it added complexity for the public. Airbus, notably, never used customer codes; instead, Airbus embeds engine codes in its model suffix (more on that later) .
In 2016 Boeing abolished customer codes for new aircraft, simplifying designations to just the model and variant . The change effectively started with the 787 Dreamliner: all 787s are just 787-8, -9 or -10 regardless of who buys them . A United 787-9 and an ANA 787-9 are both officially “787-9” with no customer differentiator. This practice continued with the 737 MAX and 777X families, which use generic variant numbers (e.g. 737-8, 777-9) globally . The retirement of customer codes reflects the modern need for clearer public-facing names; an ordinary traveler can more easily recognize “787-9” than decipher that “787-96” or “787-9B” might mean a specific airline’s order.
Beyond the base 7X7 model and numeric variant, Boeing often appends letters to indicate special variants or performance attributes. Common examples include “ER” and “LR”:
ER (Extended Range): Signifies a longer-range model than the baseline. For instance, the 777-300ER has extra range and other upgrades over a standard 777-300 . Similarly, 767-300ER and 777-200ER are longer-range evolutions of those models . LR (Long Range): Denotes the ultimate long-range version. Boeing used this for the 777-200LR, which was an ultra-long-haul model dubbed the “Worldliner” (able to connect almost any two airports). LR is also seen on 747-200B variants called “747-200B(SUD) LR” etc., but 777-200LR is the classic example . In Airbus parlance, “LR” is used on A321LR, and “ULR” (Ultra Long Range) on the A350-900ULR, showing a similar concept of range-boosted subtypes . F (Freighter): Designates a pure cargo model. A 747-8F is a factory-built freighter version of the 747-8, with a hinged nose door and strengthened floor . Boeing’s freighters have always used F, e.g. 767-300F, 777F. C (Convertible) and M (Combi): These letters have been used for planes that can carry both cargo and passengers. C generally means a convertible passenger/cargo that can be reconfigured (for example, some 737-700C models can swap between roles). M (from “Mixed” or “Combi”) indicates fixed combination – a partitioned cabin for passengers in front and freight in the rear. Boeing 747-400M and 757-200M were offered as combis for airlines that needed flexibility . Earlier, 707-320C also used C for a convertible cargo model . D or SR: Used for high-density short-range versions. The 747-400D was a Domestic model for Japan with extra seating and no winglets , and 747SR was an earlier short-range 747 for Japanese domestic routes. These had structural modifications for high cycle use. “D” stood simply for Domestic . BCF / BDSF (Converted Freighters): These suffixes appear when a passenger plane is converted to a freighter post-production. BCF means Boeing Converted Freighter (typically a Boeing-sanctioned conversion program). For example, a 737-800BCF is a 737-800 modified to carry freight . BDSF refers to conversions done by Israel’s IAI Bedek division (Bedek Special Freighter) . These labels help differentiate converted cargo planes from factory-new freighters (F). Another suffix SF (Special Freighter) is sometimes used similarly, as in 757-200SF . X: While not a suffix on delivered aircraft, “X” has been used in project names (e.g. 777X for the new 777 generation). It denotes “eXperimental” or next iteration. We’ll discuss 777X further below.
In summary, Boeing’s naming system packs information: the model series (7X7) gives the jet family, numeric dash variants tell you the specific version length or generation, and any letters reveal special capabilities or configurations . For decades this was aimed more at airlines and aviation professionals than at passengers. A traveler didn’t need to know if their flight was on a 737-8H4 or 737-85C – airlines would just call it a “737-800.” But with some recent naming choices, Boeing has blurred the lines between technical designation and marketing name, as we’ll see next.
Marketing Names vs Technical Designations
Marketing plays a huge role in aircraft naming today. Boeing and Airbus both use evocative names or alphanumeric tweaks to make new models more marketable, even if internally the model numbers remain dry. A clear example is the Boeing 787, which was publicly nicknamed the “Dreamliner”. Boeing launched a public competition in 2003 to name the 7E7, and “Dreamliner” won out of 500,000 votes (beating other suggestions like Global Cruiser and eLiner) . The Dreamliner name was then heavily used in Boeing’s marketing for the 787. Technically, an airline’s manuals or the FAA type certificate might simply say “Boeing 787-8”, but brochures, safety cards, and news articles often say “787 Dreamliner.” This dual nomenclature serves Boeing well: the number is the formal model, while Dreamliner evokes an image and feeling. It’s worth noting Boeing hadn’t given an airliner a catchy name in a long time – the 747 was never officially called “Jumbo Jet” by Boeing (that was a media nickname), and the 777 carried no official nickname. The 787’s Dreamliner moniker marked Boeing’s return to using positive branding names for aircraft.
Following the 787, Boeing adopted a similar approach for the latest 737 generation. Rather than calling it 737-800 “Next Generation” or some incremental tag, Boeing branded the re-engined 737 family as the “737 MAX.” This is somewhat unusual because “MAX” is inserted into the name for marketing, whereas the actual models are still numbered as 737-7, 737-8, 737-9, 737-10 in official documents . In practice, Boeing and airlines advertise these jets as “737 MAX 8” or “737 MAX 9”. Here, “MAX” implies maximum efficiency, performance and improvement – a nod to the new engines and upgrades over the previous 737NG (Next Generation) models. Marketing-wise, it gave Boeing a simple, catchy brand to compete with Airbus’s “A320neo” (neo meaning New Engine Option). Indeed, “MAX” serves the same purpose as Airbus’s “neo” – an easy label to denote the new variant without listing all the model numbers. As one aviation explainer noted, referring to the broad series by a name like MAX or Dreamliner is “far easier” for marketing and discussion without diving into variant specifics . So Boeing can speak of “the 737 MAX family” collectively, just as Airbus speaks of “A320neo family,” and laypeople understand it’s the latest model.
It’s important to see the distinction: marketing names are not always used in regulatory designations, but they become common parlance. For instance, the 737-8 (the variant itself) is marketed as 737 MAX 8 . The 777X is Boeing’s project name for the 2020s generation 777 – the planes will be formally 777-8 and 777-9, but “777X” is the banner Boeing uses in promotions . Similarly, “Next-Generation 737” was a marketing term for the 737-600/700/800/900 series introduced in the late 1990s; Boeing advertised those as the 737NG to highlight improvements, even though the aircraft were certified just as 737-700, -800, etc. Airbus, on its side, uses “neo” as part of the model name (e.g. A321neo), which has even slipped into official usage with suffix “N” (A321-271N, where N indicates neo engine version). And Airbus’s A220 (formerly Bombardier’s C Series) carries a new number to align with Airbus branding. In short, both OEMs recognize that a memorable name or consistent scheme helps sell planes.
Boeing has occasionally tried unique names beyond just numbers and “MAX.” One example was the 747-8 Intercontinental, which was the marketing name for the passenger 747-8 variant (to distinguish it from the 747-8 Freighter). Boeing used “Intercontinental” harkening back to the 707-320B Intercontinental, implying globe-spanning range. However, that name never really caught on in common use – airlines and media still usually said “747-8I” or just “747-8.” By contrast, Dreamliner became universally associated with the 787. Thus, a good marketing name can enhance an aircraft’s brand, but if it doesn’t resonate it might be dropped in practice.
One potential downside of a strong marketing name is what happens when that name is tarnished – which Boeing learned with the 737 MAX, as we discuss next.
The Rise and Fallout of the “MAX” Brand
When Boeing chose “MAX” for the 737’s 4th generation in 2011, it was intended to convey superiority: the max performance, max efficiency 737. For several years, the MAX name served Boeing well – the 737 MAX 8 became the fastest-selling airplane in Boeing’s history, racking up thousands of orders . Airlines were keen to advertise the fuel savings and modern features of their new 737 MAX jets, often highlighting the name MAX in press releases.
However, after the 737 MAX’s grounding in 2019 due to two fatal crashes, the name took on a very negative connotation. Public confidence in the 737 MAX was shaken. In the court of public opinion, “MAX” became associated with a flawed design, even though the underlying aircraft would be made safe again. This posed a branding crisis: some industry observers and even prominent figures wondered if Boeing would ditch the MAX name to escape the stigma . U.S. President Donald Trump tweeted that Boeing should “fix… & REBRAND the plane with a new name” because no product had ever “suffered like this one” . More significantly, major customers voiced their concerns. The influential leasing company head Steven Udvar-Hazy publicly urged Boeing in early 2020 to “get rid of that word MAX”, calling it a “bad name for an aircraft” that had been damaged by the crashes . Udvar-Hazy noted that there was no reference to “MAX” in the formal model designation submitted to regulators – it’s purely a marketing term – so Boeing could simply revert to using the numeric variants (737-8, 737-10) in marketing . He believed dropping “MAX” would help alleviate passenger trepidation , especially in markets where flyers are more superstitious or aware of the name’s history.
Boeing’s response at the time was cautious. The company indicated it was open to ideas but not inclined to do a full rename . Renaming an aircraft already in service would be a significant undertaking – not to mention, airlines had fleets of MAX jets and training materials labeled as such. A Boeing executive told Reuters that a full rebranding was unlikely and that the focus was on fixing the aircraft and rebuilding trust . Indeed, Boeing’s priority was to get the 737 MAX flying safely again; a name change would not address the technical issues and could even be seen as cosmetic or misleading if not handled transparently .
What did happen quietly is that Boeing and airlines de-emphasized the MAX name for a while. In official documents like airworthiness directives and in Boeing’s communications with regulators, the planes were referred to by their technical designations (e.g. “Boeing 737-8”). Some airlines’ booking systems and safety cards started listing the aircraft as “737-8” or “737-8200” (for the high-density version) instead of 737 MAX . Notably, Ryanair – a key 737 MAX customer – avoids the term MAX in customer-facing contexts, calling its 197-seat 737-8 variant the “737-8200 Gamechanger”. In Ryanair’s eyes, this emphasizes the improvements (more seats, lower fuel per seat) while omitting “MAX” entirely. Their CEO Michael O’Leary referred to these jets simply as “new technology Gamechanger aircraft” upon delivery . The word “MAX” was conspicuously absent. This shows an airline proactively rebranding the product for its own marketing and perhaps to ease acceptance.
Other airlines took a more low-key approach: for example, American Airlines initially listed the MAX flights as 737-8 in schedules post-grounding. Over time, as the MAX safely returned to service worldwide in 2020–2021, the furor over the name has subsided and many airlines have re-embraced “MAX” (since that’s how most people know the plane). Boeing ultimately did not change the official name – the 737 MAX family remains the 737 MAX. However, the episode underscored how a marketing name can backfire. Brand equity can turn to liability if a product encounters serious problems. Boeing had pitched “MAX” as meaning maximum value; detractors joked it came to mean “Max risk” or “Max chaos.”
From a strategic standpoint, Boeing had to weigh if abandoning the name would help or hurt. Renaming could confuse the flying public (“Is this a different plane or the same MAX fixed?”) and might look like Boeing was trying to hide its past mistakes . Keeping the name meant Boeing had to rehabilitate it through proven safety. As of 2025, it appears the company stuck with the name and is slowly rebuilding trust in the 737 MAX brand through safe operation. In travel forums, you’ll still see aircraft listed both as “737 MAX 8” and “737-8” interchangeably. Over time, the technical model number may win out and “MAX” might recede as just one chapter in the 737’s long story.
Passenger vs Freighter: How Boeing Labels Different Roles
Boeing produces many of its jet models in both passenger (airliner) and freighter versions, and the naming distinguishes between them clearly with suffixes. As mentioned, the letter “F” is the hallmark of a dedicated freighter. A 777F is a factory-built 777 Freighter, analogous to a 777-200LR in structure but optimized for cargo. The 747-8F is the freighter variant of the 747-8, whereas the passenger variant carries no letter (or occasionally “I” for Intercontinental in marketing) . So if you see a model ending in F, it’s carrying goods, not passengers.
Boeing also often uses “ERF” to indicate an Extended Range Freighter. For example, the 747-400ERF was a longer-range 747-400 freighter, and 767-300ERF is sometimes used to denote the cargo version with extended range . These ERF models marry the range upgrades of ER passenger versions with the freighter platform, giving airlines more payload or range capability for cargo ops .
For converted freighters, Boeing adds “BCF” as discussed (Boeing Converted Freighter) . So a 737-800BCF started life as a passenger 737-800 and was later converted. The designation “SF” (Special Freighter) is also used historically (e.g., 747-200SF), but in recent programs Boeing prefers BCF unless a conversion is done by a specific third party who might use their own acronym (like IAI’s BDSF) .
On the passenger side, most Boeing jets carry no special letter – a 737-800 is understood to be a passenger plane. One exception was the “C” for Convertible passenger/cargo as used on some 707s and 727s . Another is “M” for Combi, which appears in models like 747-400M. Those combis were mostly for niche markets (e.g., KLM and Air France flew 747 combis that could carry freight on the main deck behind passenger seating). Boeing has largely moved away from offering combi jets due to regulatory changes (fire suppression rules), so these suffixes are less common on modern aircraft.
It’s also worth noting that Boeing’s model numbering sometimes changes when a military derivative is made, but that usually involves an entirely different designation (e.g., the 737-based P-8 Poseidon maritime patrol aircraft or the 747-derived VC-25 used as Air Force One). In the commercial realm, a Boeing jet’s name will plainly indicate its role: if it’s flying passengers, it’s typically just the number (and perhaps variant); if it’s carrying cargo, an F or related suffix flags that.
Airline and Customer Reactions to Naming
Airlines historically did not influence Boeing’s choice of model numbers – those were set by Boeing’s product strategy. However, airlines and lessors do react to those names and sometimes subtly shape how the planes are referred to in public. We saw how Ryanair preferred “Gamechanger” over MAX for its PR. In the past, airlines have occasionally requested certain branding: for instance, when Boeing was pitching the 747-8 in the mid-2000s, launch customer Lufthansa was reportedly pleased it wasn’t called “747-500” or “600” (which were earlier unrealized proposals). Going with 747-8 linked it to the 787’s technology (with the “8” suggesting 787 synergy) and signaled a new generation . In fact, Boeing explicitly chose “-8” for the 747’s new variant to connect it with the 787-8 (which was then in development), hoping to transfer some of the Dreamliner’s innovative cachet to the venerable Jumbo . Airline feedback in that case likely favored a more novel branding for the refreshed 747.
The reception of names like “Dreamliner” has been broadly positive – many airlines embraced it, even painting “Dreamliner” on the nose of their 787s or using it in marketing. For example, ANA, JAL, Air India, and others included the Dreamliner logo or name on their 787s, underscoring that a good Boeing name can become part of an airline’s own brand image for a plane. On the other hand, no airline ever painted “MAX” in big letters on the side of their 737s – it was always a family descriptor rather than a proud nickname like Dreamliner.
When Boeing formally dropped customer codes in 2016, airlines didn’t object – that change mainly affected internal record-keeping and plane spotters’ databases. If anything, it simplified fleets for large carriers who no longer needed their unique code in the model string. An airline like British Airways could see its new 787-10 delivered simply as “787-10” rather than “787-108” or such (BA’s old code was 36 for Boeing widebodies). The industry had shifted to prefer generic model designations for simplicity, a move welcomed by both airlines and manufacturers for reducing complexity .
Another interesting reaction was to the potential “797” name. Boeing has long hinted at a new “NMA” (New Midsize Airplane) to sit between the 737 and 787. The aviation community preemptively calls it the 797, and there is clear enthusiasm for that name. Airlines like Delta and United have openly discussed the need for a 757/767 replacement (which the media tags as 797) – essentially validating that whenever Boeing builds it, **797 is the expected name . No airline has suggested Boeing call it anything else; the 7X7 naming is so entrenched that customers almost assume the next one is 797. If Boeing tried a different scheme, it might meet resistance simply because 797 has brand capital as “the next Boeing” in people’s minds.
In sum, airlines generally adopt Boeing’s names in stride. They appreciate easy-to-market labels (who wouldn’t rather advertise the 787 Dreamliner than “the Boeing Model 978?”). When names become problematic (as with MAX), airlines will adjust their own communications to maintain customer confidence, but behind the scenes the model name remains the same. Leasing companies and large customers do have sway – as seen when Air Lease’s Udvar-Hazy pushed Boeing on the MAX naming . Such voices likely influenced Boeing to lean more on “737-8” in the short term. So while airlines don’t pick Boeing’s model numbers, their acceptance and usage of those names is a key part of the story.
Boeing vs. Airbus (and Others): Naming Systems Compared
Boeing’s transatlantic rival Airbus developed its own distinct naming convention, almost a mirror image approach: Airbus uses the A3XX format. The “A” simply stands for Airbus, and the 3 as the first digit has been a quirk since their first plane, the A300 . The number 300 in A300 originally referred to a targeted 300-seat capacity for that aircraft . Airbus maintained the “A3–” prefix for subsequent models, but the following digits are sequential (not tied to capacity in any strict sense after the A300). So the A310 was a derivative of the A300 (keeping ‘3’ prefix but now 10, perhaps seen as a sub-series), then came the single-aisle A320 family, then the long-range A330 and four-engine A340 in the 1990s. Airbus skipped some numbers – notably there was no A350 until the 2000s, and no A360 or A370 at all. Instead, Airbus jumped to A380 for its double-decker superjumbo .
The choice of A380 had symbolic reasoning: Airbus selected “8” because the digit 8 is auspicious in many Asian cultures and also visually resembles the cross-section of the twin decks . They wanted their largest plane to carry a special number, and since 8 connotes prosperity (e.g. the Beijing Olympics opened on 8/8/08 at 8pm), it was a marketing nod to airlines in Asia, a crucial market for the big jet . The leap from A340/A350 straight to A380 also emphasized that this plane was an “out-of-sequence” flagship, the biggest of all – in effect, the high number implied its superlative size (the A380 would be the world’s largest airliner). So Airbus too isn’t shy about using numbers for messaging. There has been speculation that Airbus chose A350 (instead of A360) for the plane that eventually succeeded the A340, possibly leaving room for A360/370 that never came – but more likely Airbus just liked the ring of A350. Airbus’s future single-aisle might be named A220 family (they already co-opted A220 for the Bombardier C Series), or they could go to A320++ etc., but it’s possible they’ll eventually use A390, A350neo, or other schemes. As of now, Airbus sticks to the A3XX pattern for all commercial jets.
Airbus variant numbering works differently from Boeing’s old customer code system. Traditionally, Airbus variants are indicated by a dash followed by three digits: the first digit often denotes the variant length or series, and the next two denote the engine manufacturer and version. For example, an A320-232 would be an A320-200 series with a certain engine (the 3 might indicate IAE V2500 engines, whereas 2 might indicate a specific variant of that engine). An A330-343 would be an A330-300 with Rolls-Royce Trent 700 engines (engine code 3). This system is quite technical and usually only seen in manuals or detailed databases; airlines simply advertise the base model (A330-300). Airbus does not encode customer identity into the model number. Recently, with the A320neo family, Airbus uses a suffix letter “N” (e.g. A321-271N) to indicate a neo with a specific engine (PW1100G in that case), or “NX” informally for A321neo with Airbus Cabin Flex configuration. They also have started using abbreviations like ACF (for Airbus Cabin Flex) in some contexts, but generally the public-facing name remains A321neo, A330neo, etc. Airbus also attaches LR or XLR for the long-range variants of A321neo (A321XLR for Extra Long Range, which is a marketing name that became standard usage).
Other manufacturers have their own styles:
Embraer (Brazil) historically used the EMB-XXX system (e.g. EMB-120 Brasilia turboprop, EMB-145 regional jet). For its E-Jets, Embraer simplified to E170, E190 etc., roughly correlating to aircraft size (E190 ~ 100 seats, E170 ~ 70 seats). The second generation got a marketing tag “E2”, so we have E190-E2 and E195-E2 officially. Embraer E2 jets keep the same basic numbers but add E2 to denote the new engines and avionics – akin to “MAX” or “neo” conceptually. Bombardier’s CRJ series (now under Mitsubishi’s wing) used CRJ-700, CRJ-900 which clearly indicate passenger capacity roughly (70-seat, 90-seat class), and similarly Q400 turboprop (the “Q” stood for “Quiet” in the Dash-8 Q400). ATR turboprops use -42 and -72 to denote the models (reflecting ~42 and ~72 seats). Comac of China names its jets with the C9XX format: the C919 is roughly a 190-seater, and the number 9 is considered lucky in China too (for longevity). They also have the ARJ21 (Advanced Regional Jet for the 21st century). These are new players with naming that mixes numbers and letters meaningful to them. Soviet/Russian manufacturers followed their own logic: Tupolev Tu-154, Ilyushin Il-96, etc., often just sequential model numbers or military design bureau indices, with no obvious pattern to outsiders. In the West, those aren’t as familiar, so our focus stays on Boeing vs Airbus where naming is part of brand identity.
The key difference between Boeing and Airbus naming is that Boeing’s is centered on a consistent 7-7 branding, while Airbus anchors everything with “A” but otherwise uses more straightforward numbering (which sometimes jumps to fit marketing goals). Both use suffixes for variants (ER/LR, F, etc.), but Airbus tends to emphasize engine choice in the detailed model suffix where Boeing emphasized customer in the past . Marketing names like MAX and neo fill similar roles for updated variants. Interestingly, Airbus never had to rename a plane in crisis – though the A320neo had some early engine problems, the “neo” name was never tarnished like “MAX” was.
The Future: Will We See a 797, and What Comes After?
As Boeing looks ahead to new aircraft programs, one big question is what naming convention will follow. The 797 is on the lips of aviation enthusiasts as the next expected Boeing jetliner name . If Boeing launches a New Midsize Airplane in the late 2020s, it almost surely would be called the 797 – completing the 7X7 series. Boeing has even used the term “797” in some internal documents or future outlooks (albeit informally), and airline CEOs have referenced “797” when prodding Boeing to build a 757 replacement . So there’s strong momentum for 797. Using it would capitalize on 70 years of brand heritage that began with the 707. It signals “this is a Boeing jetliner” in a way few other naming schemes could.
However, what happens after 797? Boeing will have run out of 7X7 numbers. It faces a strategic naming dilemma for the first time in its jetliner history. Several paths are possible:
Go to 8X8? Some have speculated Boeing might start an 8X8 series after 797, initiating a new sequence (e.g., 808, 818…). But “808” doesn’t have the same ring, and the number 8 is strongly associated with Airbus A380 and Boeing’s own 787. Also, Boeing may not want to abandon the 7-at-start motif. Four-digit models or alphanumeric? Boeing could consider a radical shift, perhaps naming aircraft by a descriptive label or a combination of letters and numbers (akin to car models or military aircraft). For example, they could call a future hybrid-electric regional jet something like “Boeing HB-1” or use a name like “Skyliner” with a number. This would be a huge break and could confuse customers accustomed to 7X7. Boeing’s identity is so tied to those digits that a total change carries risk. Reuse or recycle numbers? Unlikely – reusing a past number (like calling a new plane “707-II”) would conflict with historical references and certification nomenclature. Commercial aircraft names typically aren’t recycled (fighters and cars get away with it more often, but not airliners). Keep the 7 and add a new pattern: One tongue-in-cheek suggestion is that Boeing might continue with 7’s but add another digit – though a “7X7X” (like 7978?) would be odd. More plausible is maintaining the Boeing 7 as a prefix but not necessarily as 7X7. Boeing could do something like 7-87 for a new series, but that’s essentially the same as current. Sub-brand names: Boeing could lean more into names like Dreamliner, creating distinct families with names. For instance, they could brand a future single-aisle as the Boeing “Astroliner” or some coined term. But it would need an accompanying model number for formal purposes anyway.
A strong consideration is that Boeing’s next airplane (whatever it is) will appear in an aviation landscape obsessed with technology (carbon fiber, hybrid-electric, autonomy) and environmental sustainability. Boeing may want the name to reflect a leap. The 7X7 scheme, while venerable, doesn’t inherently convey green credentials or high-tech innovation to a layperson anymore – it’s just a number. Perhaps Boeing could combine approaches: e.g. 797 with a nickname like “EcoLiner” if it were a very fuel-efficient design. That might satisfy tradition (797) and marketing needs (eco-friendly image).
We also have to remember Boeing has other product lines: in space and defense, Boeing uses names like CST-100 Starliner (a capsule) – notably “Starliner” echoes “Dreamliner,” showing Boeing’s branding penchant. For a future commercial plane, Boeing might indeed give it an inspiring name regardless of number.
One challenge Boeing faces is avoiding confusion. If they were to, say, call a new model “Boeing 2025” or something non-7×7, would people realize it’s a Boeing jetliner? They could risk losing the instant recognition that a “Boeing 7-something” provides. Airbus will surely continue with A3XX or A220/320/350 sequences for the foreseeable future, keeping a consistent identity. Boeing departing from the 7X7 could be seen as the end of an era – perhaps not ideal from a heritage standpoint, but it might mark a new chapter if Boeing wants to signal a dramatic technological break. For example, if a future airliner is a blended-wing body or hydrogen-powered, Boeing might decide it’s so new that it deserves a new naming paradigm (imagine something like Boeing H1 for a hydrogen craft). Still, that is speculative. History shows Boeing is proud of its lineage; even after the MAX crisis, they kept the name and continued the 7-series.
In all likelihood, the next new Boeing will be called 797, and after that Boeing will find a creative way to name subsequent models that still leverage the brand value of “Boeing.” The company might use the opportunity of an all-new clean-sheet design (expected no earlier than the mid-2030s, given current plans) to start a fresh numbering series or a new naming convention entirely.
Modern Challenges in Aircraft Naming
Choosing a name for an airliner today involves balancing tradition, technical accuracy, and marketing – all under much public scrutiny. Some key challenges include:
Global Market and Cultures: Air travel is global, so names or numbers must be vetted for unintended meanings. Boeing’s numeric system generally avoids these pitfalls (numbers are neutral, though as noted certain numbers carry cultural weight – Boeing embraced 8’s luck with the 787 rollout and Airbus with the A380 ). Using words can be trickier; they need to resonate positively and not offend in any major language. “Dreamliner” worked universally. By contrast, carmakers have had naming mishaps (the Chevy Nova sold poorly in Spanish-speaking countries because “no va” means “doesn’t go”). Aviation tries to avoid such gaffes by sticking to either numbers or fairly benign words. Social Media and Public Perception: In the 1960s, if a plane had issues, the name might not be widely known outside aviation circles. Today, a name like “MAX” can trend for the wrong reasons. Companies must consider how a name will play out in the age of Twitter and instant news. A single incident can indelibly link to the name – e.g., “MAX” in headlines for months. This puts pressure on picking names that won’t be easy targets. One might argue Boeing will be more cautious about flashy names in the future unless they are very confident in the product. However, bland designations won’t excite airlines or the flying public. It’s a tough balance. Differentiating Upgrades vs New Models: With airlines pushing for continuous improvements, manufacturers often create upgraded versions rather than all-new planes. Naming these can be a challenge. Airbus’s solution was “neo” (and previously adding suffix letters like A330-200 vs -300). Boeing went with “MAX” for the 737 upgrade and “777X” for the 777 upgrade. In both cases, Boeing essentially kept the base family name and added a tag. This strategy can cause confusion if not managed – e.g., some thought 737 MAX was an entirely different aircraft from 737NG, when in fact it’s a heavily modified derivative on the same type certificate. Communication is key so that airlines, regulators, and passengers understand what a name signifies. Going forward, Boeing will need to clearly delineate whether a new aircraft is a new generation or a minor update. If a future 787 refresh happened, would they call it “787neo” or “787 MAX”? Unlikely; they might choose a new suffix or simply call it a new variant (787-11?). Each choice has implications on perceived novelty and certification. Regulatory and Safety Considerations: Names can’t mislead about an aircraft’s lineage. Boeing encountered criticism for keeping the 737 type name the same through successive generations, which allowed pilots to carry over one type rating. Some argued this might have contributed indirectly to the MAX issues (as radically new systems were fit into an old type family to maintain commonality). While the name itself isn’t to blame, it highlighted that marketing a plane as just another 737 (the MAX) versus truly branding it as a new aircraft could influence design and training decisions. Boeing will need to align its naming with how new a design really is. If it’s a clean-sheet, call it new; if it’s not, don’t oversell it as revolutionary with a new name when it’s an evolution – or vice versa. Environmental Branding: As sustainability becomes crucial, we may see names reflecting “green” tech. Airbus already names its study projects with eco terms (e.g., ZEROe for zero-emission concepts). If Boeing builds a hydrogen or electric aircraft, a number alone might not suffice to garner public enthusiasm or political goodwill. Expect potential eco-labels or colors in naming to signal green innovation. Competition Pressure: Boeing and Airbus often announce names in reaction to each other. Airbus’s A350 was initially going to be an A330 derivative; when they made it a new design, the name changed from A330-200Lite to A350, and later to A350 XWB (Xtra Wide Body) for a while in marketing. Boeing’s response to the A321XLR might require them to tweak 737 MAX messaging (“MAX 10 ER” perhaps if they add fuel tanks). So naming can be a competitive tool. Each company must ensure their naming conventions allow flexibility to respond to the other’s moves without confusing airlines. This competitive naming has to stay within the bounds of their established systems (Boeing likely won’t suddenly call a 737 variant the “737-10XLR”, but it might call it 737-10ER or similar to match Airbus’s XLR narrative).
In conclusion, Boeing’s way of naming planes – the 7X7 sequence enriched with carefully chosen suffixes and the occasional evocative moniker – has proven remarkably successful, creating an indelible brand family. The names carry technical information yet are simple enough for the public to identify and even cherish. Both Boeing and its customers have leveraged these names in marketing the air travel experience. As Boeing nears the end of the 7-series with a potential 797, it faces the dual challenge of innovating its naming approach while retaining the legacy that made “707 through 787” such a cohesive set. The modern aviation landscape – with rapid news cycles, intense scrutiny, and evolving technology – will demand that whatever naming strategy comes next, it remains clear, authentic, and adaptable. Boeing will certainly be hoping that the name of its next airplane becomes associated not with crisis, but with a new era of aviation leadership.
Disclaimer: This article is based on the facts and information available at the time of writing. We strive for accuracy in describing aviation history and conventions, using verified sources from manufacturers and authorities. If any details are found to be missing or not fully accurate, we apologize. If you are the rightful owner of any images used and wish them to be removed, please contact us.
