When discussing Villeneuve’s Dune 2, Christopher Nolan recently joked about the many names of Paul Atreides:

It’s a fair question for those unfamiliar with Dune. But for fans, each name is more than just a label - it’s a window into who is speaking and what they believe.

While it might seem confusing from the outside, if you spend a bit of time in the world of Dune, you’ll come to realize that all those names carry additional layers of meaning. Subtext that no longer needs to be made explicit, making the world so much more immersive.

To give you an example, if a shadowy figure would call after Paul saying “Usul, I have an urgent message” you got some great context clues about whether this person is friend or foe. Usul is Paul’s internal name, known only by his own at Sietch Tabr and used only in private. His external name is Paul Muad’Dib and even his own tribesmen would call him that in public.

Similar to how you might call a loved one by a pet name in private, but would use their given name when others are around.

If someone calls him the Kwisatz Haderach, they’re most probably a Bene Gesserit.

If someone addresses him as Mahdi, they’re invoking his status as a religious figure, believing him to be the Fremen messiah.

And then there’s everyone’s favorite the Voice from the Outer World, prophesized to make Dune a green paradise.

Each name carries a story, a perspective, and a layer of subtext.

And this narrative depth isn’t unique to Dune. From The Lord of the Rings to Game of Thrones and the Wheel of Time, from Fallout: New Vegas to the Witcher games, there are plenty of fictional worlds that use this method as part of their world building.

It’s an elegant system - until it’s mishandled.

Just imagine a Christian priest saying “praise Allah” instead of “praise the Lord” - pretty jarring, right? That’s how weird it is when the likes of Natalya Corrino say Shai-Hulud.

Maybe the HBO writers tried to do some innocent-looking fan service, I don’t know. But they either don’t understand the source material or don’t care about it enough to uphold its integrity.

Here are three glaring examples from episode 3.

——————— SPOILERS for episode 3 of Dune: Prophecy below ———————

About ten minutes into the episode, a scene features a group of Reverend Mothers discussing everyone’s favorite zealous bearded man, Desmond Hart:

First of all, who are these “they” who would say such things? But even if we let this piece of plot convenience slip and go along with the premise, why would the Reverend Mothers refer to the sandworm by its Fremen name?

(And don’t even get me started on Sister Mikaela and whoever decided that she’d be more effective on Salusa Secundus rather than on Arrakis.)

Using the term “Maker” might be plausible for a Fremen character, but it feels wildly out of place here.

The writers seem to conflate religious reverence for the sandworm with universal terminology, which undermines the carefully defined linguistic boundaries of the Dune universe.

Everyone knows that the Sisterhood is operating from the shadows, manipulating political currents, establishing legends and religions for their own purposes.

So it’s particularly painful to see Sister Dorothea drink the kool aid and literally preach to what looks like a choir, reading from what has to be the Orange Catholic Bible.

While Dorothea’s opposition to thinking machines is canon, her zeal was never rooted in supernatural faith. The Bene Gesserit are pragmatists.

Preaching undermines their core philosophy and reduces their complexity to caricature.

Sister Avila is my absolute favorite, dropping truth bombs and stopping drama all across the surface of Wallach IX. But then the writers decided for her to say the following:

In terms of world building, this raises significant issues. Spice teas, even Spice beers are a thing on Arrakis - where almost everything has Spice. But other than that, it’s the most valuable substance in the known universe.

The idea that the early Bene Gesserit would casually brew it into tea strains credibility. Even ten thousand years later, when Spice is the economic foundation of the Imperium, it still remains a scarce and precious resource.

The young Sisterhood depicted in the series would likely guard whatever Spice they got their hands on, not waste it on tea.

Throughout the many flashbacks of the episode we see conversations between Valya and other acolytes - everyone wants to become a Sister, while Valya struggles to let go of her Harkonnen identity.

But then a scene later, even before they took their vows and got accepted, they’re already called Sisters by actual members of the Sisterhood.

I know, this is a minor detail and it’s splitting hairs, but there’s a difference between a full Reverend Mother and a Sister. One went through the agony and the other didn’t; one has access to Other Memory and all her powers while the other relies only on her own memories and training.

Similarly, I’d think there should be a difference between actual members of the organization and young women who are yet to be accepted and are yet to be trained.

So when you have members call non-members Sisters, it just erodes your world-building.

Having said all this, I’d like to make it clear: I’m enjoying the series. The production quality is high, and it’s a way better offering than many recent sci-fi attempts.

But Dune demands complexity - respecting the intricacies of its world doesn’t alienate newcomers; it makes the universe more immersive for everyone.