Clones, names and why they matter
Why two 12-inch cuttings that look almost the same can be priced worlds apart, where names like TBM and SS02 come from, and the two ways a name can mislead you.
9 min read6 sections
Two , roughly the same length, roughly the same thickness. One is thirty dollars and one is ninety. The difference is that the second has a name, and the name is a claim about which exact plant it was cut from. Here is what those names mean, where they come from, and the two ways they go wrong.
A clone is one plant, cut up
A is a single original plant plus every piece ever taken off it. Cut a column in half and you have not made two plants — you have made two pieces of one. , strain and clone all get used for that idea in this hobby, and a is the same thing when somebody set out deliberately to create it.
Why it matters more here than in roses or apples is that these cacti cannot pollinate themselves. A flower needs from a genetically different plant. Two cuttings of one clone are the same plant however far apart you grow them, so they will never set seed together — and even if they could, seed does not copy a clone. Every seedling is a new individual with its own look. That is why the currency of this hobby is cuttings rather than seed packets.
Figure
Two ways to make more of it
One of these carries the name with it and the other cannot. That is the whole reason cultivar names exist, and it is easier to see than to say.
Cut it up
one plant, three times
Rib count, spine habit and proportions all come across unchanged, because there is no new genetics involved. This is the only route a cultivar name can travel.
Sow its seed
three new plants
These cacti are not self-fertile, so every seed has two parents and comes out its own plant. One of these three has a stripe neither of its siblings got.
There is a neat test hiding in that: if you suspect two of your plants are the same clone, try to them. Fruit means they are seed-grown siblings.
The plant most beginners already own makes the point. Every — the ordinary San Pedro sold in garden centres across North America — traces back to one seedling, so a whole continent's supply is branches of a single plant.
Where the names come from
There is no registry and no committee. Names come from wherever the plant did.
- The person who found or kept the mother plant.
- A place. LMA is La Mirada, the town, plus Angelo, the man who grew it. Otlé is Old Town Lake Elsinore.
- A field-collection code: a collector's initials followed by a number.
- Whatever happened that day. One clone is called Modelo because a beer was handed over along with the cutting.
- Cacto Híbrido is simply Spanish for hybrid cactus, written down by the Spanish-speaking grower it came from.
- Bruce's Dragon spent years circulating with no name at all. The mother stand was cut down, somebody rescued the pile of cuttings from the driveway, and the name and the value both arrived afterwards.
Crosses are written mother × father, the mother being the plant that carried the fruit. after a name means open pollinated: the mother is known, the pollen father is not, because insects got there first. means no ID, and it is a legitimate budget tier rather than an insult — unnamed plants sell for around a third less.
The etiquette growers state out loud is short. Only name something you grew from seed. Do not rename a clone that is already circulating. And if you think the name you received is wrong, do not pass it on — but do write down what you were told.
Failure one: one clone, two different-looking plants
Grow two pieces of one clone in different places and the photographs can look like different species.
Strong sun gives longer spines, slower blockier growth, a yellower cast, and it bleaches the blue bloom off the . Dappled shade gives shorter spines, a slimmer greener column that swells faster after a watering, and it keeps the bloom. Same genetics both times.
Figure
What a name can and cannot promise
Two pairs. The first is one clone grown two ways. The second is two different plants sold under one name. Telling those apart is the whole skill.
One clone, under glass
same genetics
Slimmer, darker, areoles far apart, spines it never bothered to make.
The same clone, outdoors
same genetics
Fatter, blue with bloom, areoles crowded, spines long. Nothing here is a different plant.
Sold under one name
three broad ribs
No standing central spine. Rib count and spine habit are structural — no amount of sun moves them.
Also sold under it
four narrower ribs
A long central out of every areole. Two different plants wearing one label.
Grown in full sun
short · fat · pale · tight areoles
Grown under shade
tall · slim · dark · areoles apart
On its own roots
slower · true to habit
Grafted
faster · fatter · union visible
Sun against shade
Two cuttings of one clone. Longer spines and a yellower cast on the sun-grown piece, more blue bloom on the shaded one.
Own roots against grafted
One clone again. Some clones grow fast and almost normal-looking on a graft and slow and lumpy on their own roots.
Sun against shade
Two cuttings of one clone. Longer spines and a yellower cast on the sun-grown piece, more blue bloom on the shaded one.
Own roots against grafted
One clone again. Some clones grow fast and almost normal-looking on a graft and slow and lumpy on their own roots.
shifts it further than most people expect. A very small piece put on strong will push pups bigger than itself; the same piece rooted pushes pups smaller than itself.
And time shifts it again. Monstrose clones swing between normal and strange growth over their lives, and plenty of them look perfectly ordinary for a year or two before they get weird. A young plant that looks plain has not necessarily lost anything.
First year
reads as normal
The year after
ribs break up · knobs · lumps
Interactive
The same clone, grown two ways
Set each side to a different life and look at the difference. Nothing about the plant has changed between them — only where it stood and what it was growing on.
Left
Longer spines, a blockier and yellower column, and the blue bloom bleached off it. Slower in height than the shaded one, and tougher.
Right
Shorter spines, a slimmer greener column, and strong blue farina that full sun would have bleached away. Quicker to swell after a watering.
Both of these are the same clone.
Left: Full sun. Longer spines, a blockier and yellower column, and the blue bloom bleached off it. Slower in height than the shaded one, and tougher. Right: Dappled shade. Shorter spines, a slimmer greener column, and strong blue farina that full sun would have bleached away. Quicker to swell after a watering. Both of these are the same clone.
Failure two: one name, two different plants
The other direction is worse, because there is nothing to see.
- Rimac is documented as a label covering several genetically distinct plants held by different collectors. It is a river valley in Peru, not a cultivar.
- One abbreviation can mean two things: TBMC gets used for both TBM clone C and TBM cristata.
- Two names can turn out to be one plant, and the community argues about which ones.
- A name may not even be the right genus. One circulating clone is believed by the grower who keeps it to be a monstrose Mammillaria rather than a Trichocereus at all.
- Misidentification happens at commercial scale too — one grower lists seed sold as peruvianus that grew out as scopulicola.
- Much of the reference material these names lean on was compiled automatically from old forum threads, and no editor has ever checked it.
So the same clone name from two sellers is not a guarantee of the same plant. It is a guarantee of the same label.
What a name is actually worth
Scarcity and propagation speed, mostly. A clone that pups slowly stays expensive because supply cannot catch up with it. The long form of monstrose is the standard example: it carries very few , and an areole is the only place a new branch can start, so there is almost nothing to cut.
Watch the community sale posts for a while and the pattern is hard to miss: hold size constant and the most sought-after names still ask several times what the easiest-to-find ones do, while a plant with no name at all sits below both. The name, and not only the size, is doing the work.
Treat anyone's confident figure for what a clone "is worth" with suspicion, though. Most names change hands only a handful of times in a season, so a number for one clone is usually built on very few sales, and a figure offered without saying how many sales sit behind it is a feeling rather than a fact.
No identity
no tag · no history
A named clone
tag · written record
What we do about it
- We record the name exactly as the plant came to us, with where it came from and when.
- We say whether a plant is on its own roots or grafted, because that changes both how it grows and how it looks.
- We flag on the clone's own page when a name is contested, covers more than one plant, or is spelled differently elsewhere in the market.
The unglamorous half of that is labelling. On a plastic tag, pencil beats marker — graphite does not fade and does not wash off in the sun. On a cutting, write the name onto the part that will end up buried, where the writing survives for years.
Pencil
still readable
Marker, one summer on
faded to nothing
Quick check
Did any of that land?
Question 1: You own two cuttings of the same named clone. Can you cross them to get seed of that clone?
Question 2: Two sellers both list a clone called Rimac. Are you buying the same plant?
Question 3: The same clone looks completely different in two photographs. What are the two likeliest reasons?