Not that kind of doctor

My PhD does not get me much respect outside the workplace. The acronym supposedly means Doctor of Philosophy, but I've never taken a philosophy course in my life, so this feels wrong. We've all heard the 'Piled higher and deeper' explanation, but I always liked the interpretation of a Finnish colleague who transcribed it as 'Doctor of Photocopying', which I suppose must now be adapted to 'PDF hoarding Doctor.' The stereotype, of course, is that PhDs are clueless about the broader world, their brains having been vacuumed into a dark, narrow tunnel from which they rarely escape. The leading newspaper chain in Canada adopted the editorial policy many years ago that PhDs were not 'Dr.', but just 'Mr.'  Even professors, who in some countries are exalted as 'Prof. Dr.', or even 'Herr Prof. Dr.', are reduced to 'Mr.' by journalists who do not have university degrees.

When I first got my PhD, I was surprised by the hostility of friends and family who assumed my ego was about to inflate like a hot air balloon. They considered it necessary to constantly puncture my self esteem before I floated into the academic stratosphere, where I would gaze down condescendingly at the rest of mankind.

From the beginning, I did not use the 'Doctor' label much out in the real world. Some perverse stubbornness makes me use the title when interacting with others who use the same word as a social or intellectual stratifier, such as MDs (medical doctors), DVMs (vets) and DMDs (dentists), who mostly have fewer years of schooling than I do. The receptionists at my dentist went along with it for awhile, calling me Doctor for a year or two. They never quite believed I was a real doctor, possibly because I never wore a tie or stethoscope. Eventually, they started using just my first name, not even bothering to call me Mister. I don't mind, really, although at the end of this month l will be introduced to a new MD who will do unspeakable things to my body. His web reviews suggest an arrogant, imperial personality, certain to introduce himself as Doctor if he bothers to introduce himself at all. I'm sure I will introduce myself as Doctor in return.

I immersed myself in universities for nine years to get my PhD, but it still feels odd when people outside my field call me Doctor. It's a symbol of something, an accomplishment, the development of expertise that really is unique, but it is not something I did because I wanted the title. It was a side effect, not the reason, a signpost hammered in along the road, now far far behind me. After awhile, people stopped caring about the letters after my name, whether they be PhD or CSP (Clown Science Practitioner). What is important, now,  is how well I do the job, not whether I have the academic credentials to make you laugh.