This is why it makes sense that Dell’s eponymous company just announced an overhaul of the naming schema for its computers, replacing fairly distinctive brands (Inspiron, XPS, Latitude, Precision, OptiPlex) with branding architecture that has all the sparkling originality of a tape measure. The old names, hailing back to the ’90s, will be phased out. In their place will be three more intuitive options: Dell, Dell Pro, and Dell Pro Max.

If you’ve got a nagging feeling this seems familiar, it may be because Apple has long used this tack (iPhone, iPhone Pro, iPhone Pro Max, etc.). But while Dell’s move is derivative, adopting this language also leverages the fact that others have already trained consumers to understand what these descriptors mean. If there’s already a Big Mac, one hardly needs to explain what a Big King is. If there’s already a Disney+, everyone is well broken-in for Paramount+.

People love to hate a new name. Paramount+, for one, was greeted with some eye rolls; on its face, it admits to not being the main character. And critics have similarly come for Dell. The naming scheme is “Apple-y and bland.” It’s an attempt to make currently uncool “PCs cool again.” Yet Nike had Max shoes back in the 1980s. Using pro to mean professional dates back to the 1850s. Many companies have used these qualifiers.

Just how telegraphic a brand name should be is, in part, related to how complicated the sector and shopping experience are. Using an original and evocative name can be a powerful tool of differentiation, yielding engagement and memorability for consumers. A bold move may well make sense if you’re naming a new startup in a crowded space (as when the branding firm I work for developed Asana circa 2008) or selling certain products (see: skincare company Drunk Elephant or canned water maker Liquid Death). But for individual lines of tech products from a big player today?

In a realm where consumers are facing a firehose of confusing specs and debilitating hyperchoice—as well as feeling anxiety about trust—more straightforward product names can be the answer. This is especially true if the master brand already has a lot of equity. If the 40-year-old Dell brand has always really been the selling point, why not lean into it and focus the marketing attention there? And if the brand’s spirit has always been more about performance and value than creativity, why not reflect that?

In explaining the change, company executives nodded to the “immense confusion” and “overload” among customers and a resultant desire to simplify things. “What we want to do is make it easy for our customer to find the right  PC,” VP Kevin Terwilliger said in a video interview. “But then also find the right peripheral, the right headset, the right display, and even the right services and  support.” If you’re spending less time orienting buyers around brand names, there is, arguably, more time for customizing and selling.

This is not to all say that Dell has eliminated the possibility for confusion. Just look at Terwilliger’s list of options that consumers must still consider: peripherals, headsets, displays, services. All the inputting and outputting can be off-putting. Plus, the revamp doesn’t just include three names but nine—because each new tier comes in three versions: Base, Premium, and Plus.

The execution is imperfect and criticisms can be made. Might longtime, loyal users be confused or annoyed as brands rise and set? Could a consumer mistakenly think a Dell Premium is more powerful than a Dell Pro Base? Could the third tier have just been Max rather than Pro Max? Is there some overall potential for descriptor salad here, especially given that the products come with various screen sizes and more models will likely be added in years to come?

The answer to all is yes. And the company is giving up smaller equity around each sub-brand by putting all the chips on Dell. But in streamlining and clarifying the decision process for shoppers, the overhaul is as sensible as it is uninspired.