connor

Introduction (engaging hook about Connor)

I have a soft spot for names that feel sturdy in the mouth—names with consonants you can lean on, names that sound as though they’ve already lived a life before a child ever wears them. Connor is one of those. It arrives with a confident C, a steady middle, and a clean ending, the sort of name that can belong equally to a toddler dragging a blanket down the hallway or an adult signing a mortgage without anyone raising an eyebrow. In my years teaching historical linguistics and onomastics (the study of names), I’ve watched “Connor” cycle through nurseries, classrooms, and graduation programs with a kind of quiet persistence.

What makes Connor especially interesting to me is that it’s a name with an Irish Gaelic past and an Anglicized present, carrying more than one plausible meaning and more than one story about how it came to be. When parents tell me they’re considering Connor, they often say it “just feels right”—friendly but not flimsy, traditional but not antique, common enough to be familiar yet still personal. That instinct is not wrong. Names have social lives, and Connor has had a long one.

In this post, I’ll walk you through what Connor means, where it comes from, and how it has moved through history—from legendary kings in early Irish narrative to modern public figures like Connor McDavid and Connor Franta. I’ll also talk about popularity, nicknames, and the very human question at the end of every etymology lecture: So—should you choose it?

What Does Connor Mean? (meaning, etymology)

The name Connor is typically explained with two main meanings in modern baby-name sources:

• •“Lover of hounds”
• •Alternatively, “high desire/will”

Both glosses point back to Gaelic roots, and both are attempts to render into English a name that comes from a different sound system and a different cultural imagination.

The “lover of hounds” interpretation

The “lover of hounds” meaning is commonly connected to the Old Irish element _cú_ (later Irish _cú_), meaning “hound” (often with heroic connotations—think hunting dogs and war dogs rather than lapdogs). In early Irish literature, the hound is a charged animal, associated with nobility, protection, and prowess. When you see Irish names like Cú Chulainn (the famed hero whose name is often interpreted as “Hound of Culann”), you’re in that same semantic neighborhood.

The “lover of hounds” gloss often assumes a second element akin to affection or fondness. Many popular explanations present Connor as if it were transparently “hound + lover.” As a professor, I’ll gently add a caution: folk etymologies—simple, story-friendly breakdowns—can be appealing even when the historical morphology is messy. Still, the association with _cú_ is not arbitrary; it reflects a longstanding tendency to interpret this name family through the lens of hounds and heroic culture.

The “high desire/will” interpretation

The alternative meaning—“high desire” or “high will”—is another traditional gloss that circulates widely. In scholarly discussions of Gaelic personal names, we often see attempts to derive names from elements meaning “desire,” “will,” “aid,” “strength,” or “wisdom,” depending on the exact historical form being reconstructed. With Connor, this gloss is frequently tied to older Gaelic forms such as _Conchobhar_ (modern Irish often spelled Conchobhar; historically also seen as Conchobar/Conchobor in scholarly editions), from which Connor is frequently considered an Anglicized descendant.

If you’re sensing that this is less than perfectly tidy, you’re right—and that’s part of what I love about etymology. Names are not museum specimens; they are living artifacts, reshaped by pronunciation, spelling conventions, and cultural contact. The coexistence of these meanings—hound-love on one hand, high will/desire on the other—captures how Connor has been heard, re-heard, and re-explained across centuries.

A note on spelling and Anglicization

Connor, as we encounter it in English today, is explicitly noted in your provided data as Irish (Anglicized from Gaelic). That’s crucial. Anglicization is not merely “translation”; it is the adaptation of Gaelic names into English spelling and phonological expectations—sometimes smoothing consonant clusters, sometimes altering vowels, sometimes compressing longer traditional forms into something easier for English speakers to handle.

If you want a scholarly anchor for this broader process, I often point students toward works like Patrick Hanks, Richard Coates, and Peter McClure’s The Oxford Dictionary of Family Names in Britain and Ireland (2016) for how Gaelic elements travel into English contexts, and toward standard references such as The Oxford Companion to Irish History (Oxford University Press) for cultural-historical framing. For early Irish name-forms and literary attestations, editions and studies of the Ulster Cycle are a natural entry point.

Origin and History (where the name comes from)

Connor is, at its root, an Irish name—specifically, an English-friendly form associated with Gaelic antecedents. In the classroom, I describe this as a name that has moved through at least three overlapping histories:

1. A Gaelic naming tradition with its own phonetics and orthography 2. Medieval and early modern recording practices (scribes, Latinized forms, regional spellings) 3. Modern Anglophone usage, where Connor becomes a stable, widely recognized given name

The most famous traditional Gaelic form linked with Connor is Conchobar (also spelled Conchobhar in modern Irish orthography). This form appears in early Irish narrative and is deeply embedded in legendary history. When such names travel into English, they often emerge in shorter or more phonetically transparent shapes—hence Connor.

A personal anecdote: the first time I taught a seminar on name-contact in the British Isles, a student from Belfast stayed after class and said, “My dad insists our surname and given names are always being misheard.” That comment has stuck with me. Connor’s history is full of being heard through other ears—Gaelic through English, local through official, oral through written. The result is a name that feels straightforward now, but rests on centuries of linguistic negotiation.

Your provided data also notes that the name has been popular across different eras. That phrasing matters: Connor is not a one-season fashion. It has had recurring visibility, which suggests it functions as what we might call a durable traditional-modern hybrid—a name that can be revived without seeming resurrected.

Famous Historical Figures Named Connor

When we talk about “historical figures” named Connor, we need to be honest about categories: some are historical in the documentary sense; others are historical in the cultural sense—legendary figures who shaped identity and story, even if we cannot treat them as straightforward biographical subjects. Your data gives us one of each, and together they show Connor’s reach from mythic narrative to titled aristocracy.

Conchobar mac Nessa (legendary; Ulster Cycle; traditionally set around the 1st century BCE/CE)

Conchobar mac Nessa is a central figure in the Ulster Cycle, the corpus of early Irish heroic tales whose traditional setting is often placed around the 1st century BCE/CE. He is portrayed as king of Ulster, surrounded by warriors, rivalries, feasts, oaths, and the moral intensity that makes heroic literature feel both distant and strangely immediate.

Even if you’ve never read the Ulster Cycle, you may have absorbed its atmosphere indirectly: the heroic code, the sharp-edged honor culture, the sense that names are never merely labels but reputations. Conchobar’s name—so closely linked in popular understanding to Connor—anchors the modern name in a narrative world where leadership and consequence are constant themes.

As an etymologist, I find it moving that parents today may choose Connor simply because it sounds kind and capable, while the name’s deep background includes a king who embodies the complex authority of early Irish storytelling. It’s a reminder that we don’t need to “use” all a name’s history to be touched by it; sometimes history simply gives a name its gravitational pull.

Connor (Conchobar) O’Brien (1760–1833) — Irish peer: 2nd Marquess of Thomond

Your data also lists Connor (Conchobar) O’Brien (1760–1833), identified as an Irish peer and 2nd Marquess of Thomond. Here we see something linguistically revealing: the pairing Connor (Conchobar) suggests a bilingual or bicultural naming reality—an Anglicized form alongside a Gaelic form, or at least an explicit recognition that the English “Connor” corresponds to the Gaelic traditional name.

I often tell my students to look for parentheses in historical records; parentheses are where cultures meet. In that small typographical gesture—Connor (Conchobar)—we glimpse the social pressures and identities of Ireland in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, when names could signal lineage, allegiance, and the complicated dance between Irish tradition and British administrative norms.

So in historical terms, Connor is not merely “a nice Irish name.” It is a name that has been borne by figures positioned within story-soaked kingship and within documented aristocratic hierarchy—two different kinds of power, two different kinds of memory.

Celebrity Namesakes

Modern name life is shaped as much by celebrity and media as by family trees. Connor benefits from having public namesakes who feel contemporary and varied—people whose achievements are legible to a wide audience, and who bring the name into everyday conversation.

Connor McDavid — Ice hockey player (Captain of the Edmonton Oilers)

Connor McDavid is one of the most recognizable Connors in the world of sports, known as an elite ice hockey player and Captain of the Edmonton Oilers. Even if you don’t follow hockey, you’ve likely seen his name in headlines, highlight reels, or conversations about leadership and performance under pressure.

From an onomastic perspective, this kind of figure does something subtle: he makes Connor feel energetic and current, not merely traditional. Parents sometimes worry that a historically rooted name will feel “too old.” A namesake like McDavid helps anchor Connor in the present tense.

Connor Franta — YouTuber/author/entrepreneur (Online video creator and former member of Our2ndLife)

On a very different stage, Connor Franta represents the name in digital media and contemporary entrepreneurship. He is identified in your data as a YouTuber/author/entrepreneur, an online video creator and a former member of Our2ndLife.

I find this pairing—McDavid and Franta—particularly interesting because it shows Connor’s flexibility. One Connor is associated with athletic leadership in a traditional team sport; another with online community-building and creative business. The name doesn’t “belong” to one archetype. It travels well across social worlds, which is one reason it continues to be chosen.

Popularity Trends

Your data states simply (and accurately) that Connor has been popular across different eras. As someone who studies naming cycles, I read that as a sign of a name that is stable but not static. Connor is not confined to one decade’s style. It can feel at home among classic names and among modern, brisk, two-syllable favorites.

In my experience, Connor’s popularity is reinforced by several features:

• •Pronounceability: It’s easy for many English speakers to say on sight.
• •Spelling stability: “Connor” is the dominant spelling in many Anglophone contexts.
• •Cultural depth without obscurity: It has Irish roots, but it doesn’t require constant explanation.
• •Versatility across ages: It works for a baby, a teenager, an adult professional.

One small caution I offer parents is practical rather than linguistic: in eras of popularity, you may encounter multiple Connors in a classroom or sports team. Some families don’t mind; others prefer a rarer choice. If you love Connor but want distinctiveness, you might lean more heavily on a nickname, a middle name, or a family surname as a second given name.

Nicknames and Variations

Nicknames are where names become intimate. They’re the linguistic equivalent of sleeves rolled up. Your provided list for Connor is wonderfully broad:

• •Con
• •Connie
• •Conny
• •Con-Man
• •C

A few observations from my own teaching and parenting-adjacent circles:

• •Con is clipped and confident, though it can feel blunt; it suits a teen who wants something simple.
• •Connie and Conny soften the name—warmer, more playful, sometimes more childlike. I’ve known adult Connies who wear it with charm and ease, but it does read more informal in many English-speaking settings.
• •Con-Man is mischievous—often affectionate within a family, but worth thinking about socially because “con man” in English also means a swindler. In the right household it’s hilarious; outside it can be misread.
• •C is minimalist and modern, the kind of nickname that appears in text messages and on sports jerseys.

As for “variations,” your data focuses on Connor itself and its Gaelic relationship. If you’re drawn to the deeper Irish form, you may encounter Conchobar/Conchobhar in literary or Irish-language contexts. I mention it here not to complicate your choice, but to show that Connor has a longer formal shadow behind it—useful if you enjoy names with a scholarly backstory.

Is Connor Right for Your Baby?

This is the section where I set down my professor’s pen for a moment and speak as a person who has watched names become children. Choosing a name is one of the first acts of care we perform in language. It’s also one of the first gifts we give that a child must carry into rooms we’ll never enter.

Connor is right for your baby if you want a name that is:

• •Rooted: It’s Irish in origin, Anglicized from Gaelic, and connected to long-standing name traditions.
• •Meaningful without being heavy-handed: Whether you prefer “lover of hounds” or “high desire/will,” the meanings feel vivid yet not overly sentimental.
• •Socially versatile: It fits both a creative online world (Connor Franta) and a high-performance leadership arena (Connor McDavid).
• •Nickname-friendly: From Con to Connie to C, it offers multiple registers of intimacy and style.

Connor might be less ideal if you strongly prefer a name that is extremely rare, or if you dislike the possibility of repeated classmates sharing it during popular periods. And if you are sensitive to teasing potential, you might steer friends and family away from Con-Man unless you’re confident it will be received in the playful spirit intended.

My personal opinion, after years of tracing names back through manuscripts and forward through birth announcements, is that Connor has earned its longevity. It is familiar without being dull, historically rich without being difficult, and strong without being harsh. It also has that elusive quality I can’t footnote: it sounds like someone you can trust.

If you choose Connor, you’re not just choosing a fashionable label. You’re choosing a name that has moved from Gaelic tradition into modern global usage, carrying with it echoes of legendary kings, documented peers, and contemporary figures carving their own paths. And one day, if your child asks what their name means, you’ll be able to say—truthfully—that it speaks of devotion and desire, of loyalty and will. That’s a fine inheritance.

In the end, I recommend Connor to parents who want a name with backbone and warmth—a name that can grow up alongside a child, and still feel like home when they’re grown.