We Must Reverse the Name “Scouting America”
back to “Boy Scouts of America”

I oppose renaming the Boy Scouts of America to “Scouting America.” To modernize our branding is to wipe it out. The new name confuses our mission, alienates our members, and signals institutional shame. Boys no longer feel protected. Girls no longer feel inspired. Volunteers no longer know what they’re defending. Parents no longer trust what we’ve become.

This isn’t reinvention, it’s retreat. A legacy once built on clarity, challenge, and character is now branding its uncertainty.

1. The boys don’t like it. It’s no longer a safe space for them.

For generations, boys relied on the Boy Scouts of America as a rare sanctuary. One of the only places where healthy masculinity could be explored without judgment or shame. Stripping the word “boy” from our name erodes that trust. It signals to them: this space is no longer yours.

This change lands in a broader cultural moment where masculinity is often labeled “toxic” from kindergarten through college. Apart from athletic teams (which don’t speak to most boys), the BSA was the last place where they could lead, grow, and struggle in their own skin.

Now, the name tells a different story. And so does the structure. Girls mature faster; the youth leadership of mixed-gender troops trends heavily female. That’s not their fault. But it deepens the unease. For boys, it’s another setting where they’re outpaced, overshadowed, and misunderstood.

Even the 2025 National Annual Meeting acknowledged this tension. A dedicated session explored the challenges boys face today, and the BSA’s duty to protect and support them. Girls deserve full access to true Scouting. But to honor that duty to both sexes, they both need space. Not dilution.

2. The girls don’t like it. They signed up for “Boy Scouts of America”, not a watered-down brand. The name change signals the very spirit they came for is slipping away.

Girls joined the BSA chasing its reputation for rugged adventure, skill mastery, and genuine leadership experience. The switch to “Scouting America” reads as a dilution of everything that once made the program bold. Yes, they appreciate being welcomed. But interview after interview reveals disappointment: the new name suggests that challenge and identity are fading, not strengthening.

3. It suggests we’re making the program easier. And we are.

A generic, catch-all name like “Scouting America” often signals lowered standards. We have indeed lowered them.

Changes to advancement requirements and merit badge criteria confirm the trend toward allowing faster advancement in an increasingly indoor (classroom) environment. See Race to First Class and Eagle Mill.

Some programs have completely disappeared. For example:

• Kodiak Challenge (phased out 2021)
• BSA Lifeguard (previously called Scout Lifeguard) (phased out 2023)
• Powder Horn (phased out 2024)

4. It signals we’re embarrassed by our legacy. That we were never a good place to help kids grow.

It gives the impression we’re ashamed of our hundred-year tradition of character development.

Worse, it suggests we’re trying to bury our sexual abuse history when healing requires transparency.

The result? We don’t appear safer. We appear duplicitous.

5. It has been interpreted in the press as yet another left-wing radical program change. Significant, as our membership has always leaned conservative.

BSA policies that are seen to conflict with biblical standards have resulted in widespread issues with maintaining church sponsors for many years now. The name change is being seen as a “last straw”.

Church sponsors have departed over inclusion policies (transgender Scouts and girls in traditional boys’ units), resulting in significant membership drops in councils historically chartered by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS), United Methodist (UMC), Lutheran Church–Missouri Synod (LCMS), and Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) congregations.

• LDS completely stopped sponsoring BSA troops in 2019. They were the largest single sponsoring organization.
• The UMC alone dropped from over 10,000 chartered units in 2020 to about 6,600 by mid-2022, following a shift to affiliation agreements amid broader denominational tensions.
• LCMS and PCA councils saw similar contractions.

Across councils, maintaining faith‐based sponsorship has become an exercise in jumping through ever-evolving hoops. Leaders report they’ve had to draft opt-out agreements, establish “traditional” unit models, coordinate merit badge changes, and address other such issues.

Collectively, they reveal a shift from partnership to placation. These stopgap measures have bought time in some areas. But they also underscore how much strain national policy shifts have placed on local relationships.

As faith-based sponsors have pulled out, councils have scrambled to fill the void. Sometimes failing, watching units shutter as a result.

But the deeper loss is quieter. Countless conservative parents and longtime Scouters are simply walking away. No protests. No headlines. Just quiet heartbreak and resolve. If their church no longer trusts the BSA, what reason do they have to stay? And if their local unit is backed by an organization that celebrates values contrary to Scripture (as they understand it), how can they, in good conscience, place their children under its care?

These aren’t just sponsorship gaps. They’re moral fault lines. Each departure speaks to something deeper: a conviction that the program they loved is no longer consistent with their ethical principles.

For many, the name change wasn’t a rebrand: It was a rupture. The final signal that the BSA has abandoned its spiritual compass.

6. Endorsed by the left. Ignored on the ground.

On the other hand, renaming to Scouting America drew enthusiastic praise from progressive organizations and commentators. Editorials described it as overdue. Advocacy groups hailed it as inclusive. Social media declared it a win.

But schools, although dominated by progressives, did not reopen their doors.

Access remains blocked or diminished. Scheduling recruitment events grows harder. Flyers face new restrictions or quiet rejection. The affirmation, however well-meaning, did not translate into restored trust or institutional support. It spoke to their values, but did not motivate those holding the keys.

7. It’s a rebrand in name only. The public still calls us “Boy Scouts”, just like they did after the last name change.

Brand recognition remains stubbornly loyal to the term “Boy Scouts”. Councils, families, and even media outlets continue to use the old name (or the initials BSA) in everyday conversation, social posts, and local press. The new logos and letterheads haven’t shifted sentiment.

When a Scout in uniform was asked what organization she belonged to, she answered “Scouting America”. The questioner remained confused until she clarified: “Boy Scouts”.

The brand identity of “Boy Scouts of America” should be a legacy strength. Instead, we’ve labeled it a liability.

8. We tried this already in the ’70s. It vanished without a ripple.

In the early 1970s, there was a similar rebranding effort: “Scouting USA”. Remarkably similar to “Scouting America”. Thankfully, it quietly faded into obscurity.

9. The initials “SA” already mean something else in youth services. Sexual Abuse. That’s not a shadow any Scouter wants trailing behind.

Within weeks of announcing the launch of “Scouting America”, councils were told to avoid the abbreviation “SA” altogether. Why? Because in case management and law enforcement, those letters stand for Sexual Abuse. Rather than rethink the new name, National tried to scrub the initials from view. So we were told to continue to use “BSA” as our abbreviation.

10. Rebrand did not actually accomplish its objective.

Patches, pins, and program titles still use “BSA”. Thus, the rebrand failed to accomplish its primary objective: to remove the term “boy”.

Conclusion

We’ve stopped pretending the old values still guide us. The renaming has made it plain: this is not the program we inherited.

It’s a flop. A disaster. Ineffective. Displeases our constituencies. Brings attention to our mistakes. Signals our shame. Dismisses our history. It will go down as one of the worst debacles in the history of branding.

The sooner we reverse it, the better. It did not turn the BSA around in terms of numbers. It is tanking. (Admittedly, evidence of decreased membership on the national level is absent, as the usual April release of data for 2024 is lacking.) The only win is the adulation of progressive culture warriors. Who rarely send their children to us.