Honour and pride

Graduation in Canterbury Cathedral

Philosophers have almost universally been dismissive of worldly status and recognition. Rightly so. Fame is a fickle master, quick to forget those he once flattered. Class is permanent but popularity more commonly temporary. Far better to pursue what is truly good and not worry too much whether the world rewards you for it.

Considerations such as these made me hesitate when I was invited to accept an honorary degree from the University of Kent. The offer came as a complete surprise. I had never really thought about what kind of person receives such things but I assumed I wouldn’t be one of them. 

I was concerned that accepting the degree would pander too much to my vanity, allowing me to feel more important than I really am. I’m also somewhat ambivalent about the whole idea of honorary degrees. It seems at the very least disingenuous when someone goes by the title “Dr” when their degree is honorary. It’s disrespectful to those who have studied several years to earn the right to have letters after their name.

However, I didn’t have to think too long and hard to overcome my doubts. None of the downsides of the honour was unavoidable. One sense of being “honoured” is being privileged and so refusing it would be as much a display of ingratitude as modesty. I also thought of my late parents and how I am still the only person on either side of my family to have graduated from university. In making others the right kind of proud you don’t need to commit the sin of pride yourself. 

I was also heartened by the fact that there does not appear to be any general correlation between refusing to accept honours and personal virtue. There is a well-known public intellectual who makes great play of never accepting any prizes or honours. He is also one of the most arrogant people I’ve ever had the misfortune to cross paths with. He is not so much high-minded as so sure of his own genius that he regards the opinions of others are irrelevant. 

The Aristotelian and Confucian idea of the mean comes into play here. While it is wrong to place too much importance on what others think of you, not to care at all suggests haughtiness and insularity. Both philosophers believed that while it was wrong to pursue honour for its own sake, we should be pleased when excellence and honourable behaviour are recognised and such. Hence Confucius said to “practise wonders, in order to be mentioned with honour in future ages: – this is what I do not do.” Yet he also said that “The superior man dislikes the thought of his name not being mentioned after his death.” Similarly, Aristotle wrote that “magnanimous people are concerned with honour, because it is honour above all that they claim as their due, and deservedly.”

So I think it is possible to accept honours granted in the right spirit. But one more thing about the degree bothered me. In a society where success is measured very much by fame and fortune, what kind of message does it send to the graduands when all the people receiving honorary degrees have achieved some kind of recognition? Does it not reinforce the idea that recognition is the measure of success?

To counter this, I used the short response to the oration at my ceremony to talk about how success comes in many forms. I retold a favourite anecdote of mine about an article I wrote which followed up on seven men who were in bands that nearly made the big time, but fell at the final hurdle. What was it like to come so close to fame and miss out? I talked to them all and the answer was heartening. Yes, they all (but one) would have liked to have made it big. But they had all managed to carry on making music or being creative in some other way. The ability to keep doing what they most valued was more important than getting rich and famous doing it. 

The punchline is that my article never got published. Yet it remains one of my most satisfying assignments. My work has enabled me to pursue what I find interesting and valuable and this particular example was more interesting than most. The fact that I got to do it matters more than the fact that it never got published.

I’m not claiming to be immune to vanity. Since I’m talking about the honorary degree now and shared a photo of it on social media, you might suspect I am motivated by more than just the desires to keep people up to dates with what I’m doing, thank those who were generous to me and write about what I find interesting. But whatever is true of me, I think that when people are fortunate enough to be honoured for what they have done, they are not necessarily narcissists for accepting the compliment.

 

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