Academi Cools

(Spanish version)

O tempora, o mores! The academic world simply not what it used to be! One might almost think the end is nigh indeed. Maybe, Reader, you think I’m merely referring to the recent spate of politicians who were found to have plagiarized their doctoral theses (like the German ex Minister, Karl-Theodor Maria Nikolaus Johann Jacob Philipp Franz Joseph Sylvester Freiherr von und zu Guttenberg). No, sadly we’ve been introduced to all different kinds of “wannabe” pretenders to our select club, but they represent only the tip of the iceberg … and, besides, their precipitous downfalls warn others of the risks inherent in trying to join this sacred brotherhood. The problem is much worse, much bigger, with graver consequences! Shame, disgrace, derision, ridicule and mockery… One works with intensity for years to carve out a place in the Ivory Tower from which to teach (preferably to teach the kind of difficult and impractical subjects that few people understand). You publish (like a man possessed) in journals that take years to review your work, in a rigorous, ethical and painful (and —why not say it? —exclusive and lucrative) peer-review process. You attend a kaleidoscope of conferences where little by little you meet people like yourself, a group of superior, unique, special, superhero types who have come through the academy’s —and indeed the world’s —most important initiation: earning a doctorate. You follow all the rules to be accepted into that sacred brotherhood where only a few select may enter. For example this magical writing rule revealed to me by the co-director of my doctoral thesis: “In your academic papers adhere to the 2 B’s rule … Be Boring!”

Somehow, you get past a fear-inducing, archaic, indolent, and exasperatingly punctilious review panel. A thesis committee that seeks to justify each comma and period, to hack at the tree of meaning with countless objections and comments until finally —if God and the authorities permit it —they bestow upon you membership in the exclusive club of doctors! You then become the kind of person who —as the mother of Randy Pausch (a distinguished club member, may he rest in peace) said —“is a doctor, but not the kind that helps people.” Having come to that point and having crossed that threshold you feel a disturbance in the force; something invades you, making you feel that you are clearly a cut above the rest. In some countries you can even put “Doctor” on your passport!