One of my new responsibilities has been to help develop a small, young, and promising college of human sciences, including professionalizing policies and procedures.
Last week during an online forum for new students, I was shocked at how nearly everyone in the college — new and old faculty, full- and part-time, and even administrative staff — was being referred to as professor.
I just had to call their attention to this “professor-ization,” which is not professionalization. In fact, when I brought up the matter, several faculty did admit they were also uncomfortable with the way they were referred to. That included a young physician who will be teaching with us part-time. She was called Professor as well and said she would have preferred Doctor but would not dare to be asked to be called Professor, at least not at this stage where she “only” has an M.D. and a pre-med degree in psychology. Even two undergraduate degrees, she said, does not mean you can be called Professor.
To better understand what’s involved with becoming a professor, let me first explain the academic track and titles. New graduates enter and start as instructors, with several steps involved (Instructor 1, 2, 3, etc.). A growing number of schools now require at least a master’s degree to become an instructor but in the Philippines, a bachelor’s degree is usually sufficient.
An instructor cannot be called a professor and is expected to start working for a master’s degree. That, together with at least five years of teaching in UP, plus at least one publication in a peer-reviewed journal and being active in department and university activities will entitle you to apply for tenure or permanent status, and an Assistant Professor position.
Once you are an Assistant Professor, you are expected to start working on a Ph.D., while teaching, doing research, and producing more journal articles, which can allow you to crawl (yes, crawl!) up the academic ranks, step by step, toward an Associate Professor and eventually becoming a full Professor. Departments vary on what it takes to become a full Professor but involves more years of teaching, more studying (including post-doctoral work), and research outputs.
Do you see now why the title is seen almost as a proprietary right and why, during the student assembly I attended, I was going, “Professor? Weh?” (I haven’t forgotten that I owe readers another column on weh, that all-around expression of incredulity, surprise, and more … usually accompanied by one eyebrow raised to the sky.)
The rules do vary from one country to another, and from one university to another. One trend is clear: Arbitrary use of the term might suggest the educational institution is not serious about standards.
Even the more lax ones, like many in the US, will say Professor is for the full professor, while the Associate and Assistant Professors can be referred only as professors, no capital letters!
The stricter universities reserve the title only for those who are full Professors. In European universities, there might even be a formal ceremony marking one’s entry into the ranks, including delivering a special lecture.
My close friends know I don’t like formalities but I feel we need to defend the title because of the very hard work that goes into becoming a professor.
There is a cultural element to all this. We love titles in the Philippines. Many foreigners are surprised at how Engineer, Attorney, Architect, and many more are used as titles, which is not the case in many other countries.
Foreigners smile, too, with our “Sir” and “Ma’am” attached to the first name, an attempt to soften the formality. That, incidentally, will probably change as more trans and non-binary individuals call for banishing the gender-fixed terms.
I am notoriously informal. I hardly get called Professor or Prof, which, incidentally, some Professors do not like. When I was first appointed chancellor at UP Diliman, students came up with the term “Chansy” within the first month of my term if I remember right. I loved the new title, which has become almost a second nickname. Even now, with my term as chancellor over, I still get called Chansy all the time.
Meanwhile at the new college I’m handling, some bolder students have called me “Cher,” from Teacher, which I also like and I wouldn’t be surprised if that becomes Cher Chansy one of these days. In French, that means dear Chansy. Better than Prof.