Authority's Place

My dear Michael:

I fear that despite my liberal sprinkling of the world "socially" or in "social situations" throughout my original post, my example of "Dr. X." grabbed your attention and undermined the thrust of my argument. I apologize for the slip shod nature of this example and will clarify my position.

No one, dear Michael, is more sympathetic to your plight within the academy than I, and I fervently support your position. Students should address you as "Professor" or "Doctor" within the walls of the academy. That is a professional situation, in which the use of the title correct and the use of a professor's given name is not, and I assure you I never presumed to call a Professor by his or her first name, but always referenced them by a proper title.

My position, and if I may be so bold as to presume Miss Manners' position, dear sir, do not apply to the realm of the professional. They apply to the realm of the social. While your students should be required to call you "Doctor", I should not. Were I to meet you socially, having not met you before, it would be incorrect for you to introduce yourself to me as "Dr C". Rather as I extend my hand and say I am Miss X, you should, as shake my hand, introduce yourself as "Mr. C." This is because, to put it bluntly, outside the scope of the academy, you have no authority besides that of your character. To quote the poet Burns, "the rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that." In American society, were I a ditch digger and you an academic, within our generations we are still social equals. For you to presume authority over me solely by virtue of your education would be most offensive and quite wrong.

This is what happened with the egregious Dr. X. It was quite correct for students at the high school to call him Dr. X. That is the proper deference due to authority within the academy, but what was quite incorrect was that he introduced himself as "Dr. X" in social situations. This was most improper, and this is what opened him to the overall ridicule of the community when they found out the nature of his doctorate. A valuable lessons actually, for for his temerity in introducing himself as "Dr. X", he received not the respect he craved, but rather ridicule. The field of Manners is indeed a bloody one.

Your suggestion that Miss Manners' etiquette was acquired in the post 1960's era leaves me reeling for the fainting couch and calling for the smelling salts. To suggest that I acquired my knowledge of etiquette from post 1960's manners is offensive, but forgivable, but to cast such aspersions upon Miss Manners, a lady of refined Victorian manners who is also your elder, is truly the frozen limit. When she says that the title "Dr" is only to be used socially by medical professionals, she is referring to a line of etiquette that extends far back beyond the 1940's. If you had given a close reading to the passage you cite from your etiquette book, I think you would find that it refers to professional usage and not social. I suspect that if you read further within what is certain to be a delightful text, you would find it agrees with us on the use of such a title in social situations.

Certainly your charming quote from dear Mr. Molnar does. It is precisely because "we cannot tell merit from the lack of it in normal social relations" that when we meet as people of the same generation, we meet as equals, because in the context of my life your function, rank, role, and representivity as a Ph. D. has no standing. Were you outside of my generation, your representivity as my elder, or mine as yours, would have standing. Were you President of the United States, your rank would have standing. Were you a medical doctor, your role would have standing, because you might in fact be able to perform an emergency tracheotomy on me should that be necessary. But just as it is completely inconsequential to our social interaction that I am a lawyer, it is completely inconsequential to our social interaction that you have a Ph.D., hard earned and well deserved though it was.


Sincerely,

Jennifer