Academics using 'Dr' - wankerish?

[RevoltingPeasant]

On the day I got my PhD, the first thing my mum said to me when I rang to say I'd passed was, 'Oh, I do hope you won't call yourself Dr, it's so pretentious...

...and congratulations!'

Anywho, I never get called Dr except on my office door and in rejection letters from journals. But I think most academics do use it in civilian life. I kinda want to. Does this make me a smug git, especially because my subject specialism is in something entirely useless to humanity literature?

Hm. No mention of cow urine or sheep shit in mine. I might have to change the topic to make it a bit more interesting.

Marfisa I did a genuine LOL at your link.

My Appendix A alone was another 150,000 words of pain.

there's alcohol in mine! And flowers!

notpodd is the real Dr Love!

damn, I've not nearly subtle enough - you got me.

there's a been missing from my last post. sorry. Tired.

Tired but lovely.

Wottinger: Ah, I do see what you mean. (I confess I have only skimmed the thread rather than reading every post; there are so many!)

"Mrs" does irk me, actually, because I find it thoughtless (and in my case it's wrong! I don't share my husband's surname). So I can imagine correcting a "Mrs" to "Dr". I wouldn't bother correcting a "Ms" to "Dr", though.

So I suppose that correcting one's title to Dr isn't always pretentious; you're right. I think it's a matter of context and of personal preference rather than being a hard-and-fast rule. If a teacher or staff member at my child's school calls me Mrs Marfisa, I don't say correct them; not making them feel uncomfortable is more important to me than making an issue of the stupid "Mrs". But if a random salesperson on the phone calls me Mrs Marfisa, I often correct them to "Dr" or "Ms". Come to think of it, I usually correct them to "Ms" instead of "Dr", not because I feel awkward about the "Dr" but because I want them to realise that they shouldn't make assumptions about surnames and marital status.

What I really want to know is the topic of RevoltingPeasant's thesis!

I mean, whether there are revolting peasants in it, and whether they are being revolting or carrying out a revolt or both.

The Effects of Strutted Bracing on the Agricultural Capacity of 15th Century Peasantry in South-West Rutland.

(whispers) I think they're revolting on account of some uppity wimmin demanding to be called Dr Marfisa.....

Actually, I might write that.

Do I need to say 'tis a joke?

There is a man at my current place of work who insists on calling me 'Dr Mrs LineRunner,' whilst knowing that I'm not married but divorced.

I forgot about that.

He's a bit of a wanker.

LineRunner, that's not wankerISH, that's outright wank.

I could quite enjoy telling him that he is the actual definition of wank.

He's a Freemason. Just thought I'd add that. They call each other 'Brother.'

How very egalitarian of him, and them!

I really have to stop procrastinating on my marking now; I am having too much fun on this thread.

Line it wasn't nearly that interesting. It was on some shit no one besides me has ever read eighteenth-century literature and how women are perceived as intellectual beings in it.

And now that I have put everyone to sleep.... good night all

My mother used to do something horribly pretentious and cringeworthy. From time to time she'd proudly mention dad being an MA(Oxon). Of course didn't mention he'd upgraded from B to M for a tenner (Oxford chemists oddly get MA not BSc, the M because its 4 years as standard, the A for god knows what reason. Dads generation was anomalous, they kicked most of them out into the army after 3 years with a B, but later allowed them to upgrade).

It was on eighteenth-century literature and how women are perceived as intellectual beings in it.

Goodness - did they manage to be perceived as intellectal back then without having to beat men around the head with their thesis? How things have regressed!

I thought the MA for a tenner was an urban myth. At my university you had to get pissed for an extra year and write some gobshite about the Funerary Rites of the Rural Hinterland of 19th Century Barnard Castle.

Happy days.

No myth, but AFAIK it was a special dispensation for those who'd fought for King and Country in WWII instead of being allowed their research year amid the dreaming spires.

I thought he shouldn't have bothered because I liked the furry B hood better than the red silk on the M hood when he dressed up for speech day (teacher, obv)