Can society remain intellectually free when credence is given only to the thoughts of those with titles to legitimize their claim on a subject? Perhaps the greatest rejection of the value of accumulated titles was the presidential election of 2016, which saw Americans choose simple businessman Donald Trump over former First Lady of Arkansas, former First Lady of the United States, former Senator from New York, and former Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton. In The Wall Street Journal, John Masko explains that Americans have not always been obsessed with their titles. And perhaps there is hope for the future. He writes:
In 1923, following his father’s presidential inauguration, 15-year-old Calvin Coolidge Jr. received a letter from a teenage boy applauding him for becoming “First Boy in the land.” Calvin Jr. declined the title. He explained that he hadn’t earned it, and it was better suited to “some boy who had distinguished himself through his own actions.” In the 1920s such a sentiment was a typical expression of a young striver’s humility. A century later, it’s hard to imagine hearing it from any teen, or even an adult.
I first noticed what I call titular inflation when I was in college and my classmates’ email signatures begin to lengthen. Freshman year, students stated their name, school and year. By senior year, they included “B.A./B.S. candidate,” a list of every menial position in a student club and, often, an inspirational quote. Teachers’ signatures likewise inflated into miniature CVs—professional-society memberships, fellowships, their assistant editorship of an obscure journal and their most recent book (with Amazon link). But I noticed that the professors we respected the most for their acuity, character and kindness had the shortest signatures—sometimes only their initials.
We’ve reached peak title inflation. “Associates” or “assistants” have been promoted to “coordinator.” “Physicians’ assistants” have become “advanced practice providers.” Inverting the Book of Matthew’s injunction not to “sound a trumpet before thee” by touting our accomplishments, we now carry a whole brass band called LinkedIn, where we hoard endorsements and certifications and seek to be first to congratulate others for theirs.
In this environment, I found it refreshing to receive an email from a freshman at the small liberal-arts college where I teach, signed with the student’s name and then the phrase “Holder of No Specific Titles.” It was pointedly amusing, but in a way that also brought a palpable sense of relief. Thank God. A student who’s just a student. A latter-day Calvin Jr.
The dark side of America’s title obsession is that it has preoccupied us with acquiring the signals of knowledge—titles, citations and epaulettes—rather than the actual knowledge to back them up. It has robbed us of the joy of simply being a student. Socrates famously professed that he knew only that he knew nothing. Surely he would have qualified for a cushy government post had he sought an off-ramp from the life of a poor street epistemologist. But that would have meant subordinating his intellectual freedom to society’s expectations of government ministers. It likely would have meant no “Phaedo,” no “Symposium,” no “Republic.” Far better to reject the title and retain the radical freedom of the intellectually unfettered.
In the spirit of our nation of strivers, I offer my student’s email signature to my fellow Americans as an example of humility. Even if I don’t put it in writing, I imagine that all my correspondence ends: “John Masko, Holder of No Specific Titles.” I recommend you do the same.
Action Line: You don’t have to be the holder of a specific title to make it in America. Hard work can put you over the top with something as simple as “businessman” on your card. In fact, you don’t even need a card. Look at someone like Ronald Read or the other inductees in Your Survival Guy’s Save til It Hurts Hall of Fame. They didn’t need fancy jobs or diplomas to amass fortunes through the hard work and frugality that have made America great. Click here to subscribe to my free monthly Survive & Thrive letter.
