Most problems need to be addressed at some point, yet this is one I have somehow side-stepped for years. And I must admit that, of all the problems I have experienced in my life, this is one of the least serious.
It has to do with the management of three little letters. No, not the IRS. Nor the FBI. Nor RIP. Not anything as serious as all that.
The letters in question are PhD. And if you have acquired one of these, what do you do?
Getting a PhD
Doing a doctorate is probably one of the more joyless experiences on which we embark voluntarily during the course of our lives. You do it because it is there, a qualification which will make you more, er, qualified for the work you want to do, usually an academic post.
Actually, I didn’t do a PhD for this reason. Doing it was free (at the time, a perk of being a university wife), and although I wasn’t quite sure where I was going, I thought it might help in some vague way.
And I liked the idea that if anyone phoned our house and asked for Dr. Richardson, I could say, “Which one?” This was long before mobile phones got the caller to the right person first time.
(Neither of these are particularly good reasons to do a PhD, but they didn’t make it any easier to do the work. Indeed, for complicated reasons, I had two concurrent supervisors who together put me through a lot of hoops. And once I had the qualification, when people phoned, I found it a bit embarrassing to ask, “Which one?”)
When you start a PhD, you probably don’t know how joyless it will be. I certainly didn’t.
But leaving aside the coursework (which wasn’t part of the deal in my time – mid 1970s UK), you spend all your time learning more and more about less and less. You are ‘deep into the weeds’, to use the current cliché, and you are there alone. With luck, you find it fascinating, but not everyone does.
It takes so long, it is hard not to get a bit fed up along the way. No one else is interested, although your supervisor may pretend to be, as needed. Your family and friends are very quickly bored with the subject and will begin to yawn at the first suggestion that you are about to launch into a discussion of some finer points.
But finally, and I do mean finally, you finish the darn thing, hand it in, get tested on it and are told you have been successful. You have a PhD. Congratulations all round.
Those Three Pesky Letters
But what do you do with it? Do you rush about and change every place where your name is listed, such as your driving licence or your Visa card? I have a feeling that is what people do now.
Perhaps surprisingly, it isn’t what I did then. My husband was an academic and he said that since everyone had a PhD, it was rather infra-dig to make much of it. And not wanting to be seen as flash, I didn’t make a big deal. My friends and family knew I had passed the hurdle, but that was about that.
I decided I didn’t want to move into academia. What I had been doing was social research (both beforehand and during the period of study) and I continued to do so, but I didn’t suddenly sign myself with the word ‘Dr’ nor put PhD after my name. I was known to the relevant authorities to be a reliable and thoughtful researcher, and I really didn’t think they would consider me any better if I added my new qualification.
I did keep an eye on what other people did and had some surprises. Some people who published books put their name on the cover (of course, we all do that), followed by PhD, i.e., Mary Smith, PhD. Some people went further and showed their qualification at both ends: Dr Mary Smith, PhD. Definitely overkill. I published books and never mentioned the qualification. I didn’t think it made my books any better.
But some 10 years later, I revisited the issue and thought here I am with a PhD and not even telling anyone – and perhaps that is a bit silly. So, I changed my professional name to Dr. Ann Richardson on official letters or when meeting people for work. Nothing much changed as a result.
I never changed my Visa card or my passport or anything else to do with me as a person. I remain Mrs. Ann Richardson. Who cares?
But I will admit it comes in handy when I want to write to anyone in authority with a complaint. I am definitely Dr. Richardson in such circumstances. I have no idea if it helps, but I did recently get a quick response to a letter to my local Council, whereas a neighbour did not.
Honorary PhD
And what does one do with an Honorary PhD? By some freak of fate, I was awarded one of these years ago by Mt Holyoke College, although I never learned why. So, I officially have a Doctorate in Humane Letters (a wonderful title which sounds both kindly and literate at the same time). This is shown on my CV (resume) as D.HL (Hon).
I have never ever used it anywhere, although I did write about receiving it in my recent book. It will go down in the historical listing of ‘things no one ever knew’.
I don’t know what other people do. I have no reason to be looking at many CVs of important or semi-important people. If they are self-important, I could make a good guess.
Is a PhD Worth the Trouble?
Of course it is. If you need the qualification. It is essential.
And in my case, I would say it was, too, but for completely different reasons. It gave a huge boost to my confidence. It wasn’t being called ‘Doctor Richardson’ – it was the fact of having climbed that mountain and learned a lot along the way.
One supervisor said, “You will never be daunted at the prospect of writing a book.” And he was right. I never am.
And I can always throw in those letters if the situation warrants it.
I earned them.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
Do you have a degree? Where do you write it and for what occasions? What did it take for you to earn it?
