Doktor! Doktor!

The law students are apparently throwing some hissy fit and demanding guarantees that the reform of their degree will not entail the dropping of the “Dr” nomenclature for the law course graduates. Such big deal this “Call me a Dr” business. Or is it? It is quite indicative that the law students were much less vociferous whenever the requirements for entry into the law course were diluted over the last decade or so. The law faculty seems to have unfortunately become some kind of petri dish to test the GIGO principle: first we dilute entry requirements until even the illiterate can get in, then we apply that sad unwritten rule that the vast majority of students present on the first opening day will eventually graduate (by hook or by crook).

Sure they will “suffer”. Sure there will be moments when the whole Civil Code will appear to them in nightmares and beat them around the head with worse effects than an Actio De in Rem Verso. Without the need to generalise too much though it was already obvious in the early noughties that the levels of aspirant lawyers were spiralling dismally downwards. The most evident flaws were a failure to grasp basic logic and language (and of course the logic of language). Bereft of these two most basic of tools that should arm the interpreter of laws we get an army of players of the system who will take advantage of a weakened faculty, live out six years with an Erasmus or two in between and graduate with the final “bonus” of getting to be called Dott.

The Robert Musumecis (he did tell me personally that he did not bother going to lectures for his law degree… “kemm nistudja in-notes) of this world are not to blame though. The system developed as it did independently of their aspirations for a doctoral title. Frankly I find the whole Dott thing mildly embarrassing. First of all Malta’s LL.D. award is rather unique. In the anglo-saxon system LL.D.’s are awarded for lifetime achievements in the field or as Wikipedia puts it:

In the UK, the degree of Doctor of Laws is a higher doctorate, ranking above the Ph.D., awarded upon submission of a portfolio of advanced research. It is also often awarded honoris causa to public figures (typically those associated with politics or the law) whom the university wishes to honour. In most British universities, the degree is styled “Doctor of Laws” and abbreviated LL. D., however some universities award instead the degree of Doctor of Civil Law, abbreviated DCL.

So already you are being bestowed with a title that ill describes your academic achievements until graduation. Add to that that the actual use of the “Dr.” title is universally acknowledged as being reserved for Ph.D. graduates. The Maltese graduate gets to be called doctor without ever having pursued the studies of a real doctorate. I recall pleading with the Chef de Mission of a Maltese government delegation for EU Accession negotiations not to introduce me – a newly graduate junior lawyer – as Doctor Zammit to the foreign colleagues at a conference. It was less humility than the fear of giving the impression of being the legal equivalent of Mozart – drafting doctoral thesis while eating egg soldiers at the age of 4.

I am still surprised to this day when the HSBC call center (fully informed clerks with your dossier at hand) still calls me Doctor Zammit (followed by “kif nista’ nghinek hi”). It does feel ridiculous. It’s not that I don’t have a sense of pride in the profession that I chose to pursue for the earning of my daily bread. It’s actually because I am proud in what being a law graduate should really mean that I get irked by these ridiculous obsessions with such ill-conceived nomenclature.

The legal profession naturally carries a reputation of sorts. Such a reputation is, objectively speaking, very unfortunate and imprecise. The role of the law and its interpreters is very important in civil society and for a very long time purveyors of the profession were among the most respected, well-read and upstanding individuals of the community. Being a lawyer meant as I mentioned earlier that you carried a love of knowledge, of society and its organisation and of the classical foundations of education. The last thing on your mind should be what people are calling you. You should be much more concerned as to earning your respect through your work.

People. Yes. The denigration of the lawyer’s profession has peaked over the past few years. Even in the hallowed halls of popular representation the natural predisposition of lawyers to political service (in Cicero style) has given way to other professional representations – including the johnny come lately economists. The media will not miss a beat in beating on the lawyers. Truth be told some colleagues might not have been the best advertisement to the profession of St. Yves’ protected but one rotten apple does not make the whole basket rot. At least not immediately.

People and “dott”. I’m not impressed when I hear people address colleagues of mine as “Dott” these days. Most times there is a sense of mockery almost built into the word as it is pronounced. Yes, the Dott business too has become a strong symbol of the dilution of the respect quotas of the profession. There was a time when we would jokingly sing during graduation ceremonies the ditty “Lil tal-Ligi tghidlu Dott, lil tal-B.Comm tghidlu Mr.”. At the time I thought it was more the kind of sfottò that befits the camaraderie of graduation ceremonies. Apparently the buscading graduates of tomorrow find the Dott appendage indispensable.

Time would be much better spent working on improving the quality of the profession than on worrying what people call them, and in any case I guess that the latter would mean a list that is never ending and quite colourful.

As for the rest…. suum cuique.