By Farooq A. Kperogi In times past, when the world hadn’t become as intricately integrated as it has now become thanks to the inexor...
By Farooq A. Kperogi
In times past, when the world hadn’t
become as intricately integrated as it has now become thanks to the inexorable
march of globalization, it was easy to understand what the other person meant
when they communicated in the lingo of the academia, especially if you shared
the same English dialect with them. No longer. American and British English
have become so meshed over the years that terms whose significations we had
taken for granted have now been suffused with different meanings and usage
conventions.
For instance, when someone addresses
herself as a “professor of geography” at a university, what should we
understand her as saying? Should we understand her as saying that she has
reached the highest possible point attainable in the hierarchy of university
teaching and research? Or is she an entry-level assistant professor,
“lecturer,” or even a graduate teaching assistant who just wants to say that
she teaches geography at a university?
The first sense is chiefly British
while the second is decidedly American. But, increasingly, the American usage
is being adopted in British universities. In what follows, I have identified
the vernaculars of the academe in the two dominant dialects of the English
language while laying bare the ways in which these vernaculars sometimes
interweave in fascinating ways. I use the term vernacular NOT in the way it’s
generally understood in Nigeria, that is, native Nigerian languages in contradistinction to
the English language; I use it to mean the everyday speech codes of particular groups of
people.
Terms
for university teaching ranks
In American English, “professor” is
a generic term for anybody who teaches in a university (Brits prefer the
preposition “at” in reference to universities and other kinds of schools). That
is why the term “professoriate” refers to the university teaching profession
collectively. In British English, however, “professor” is a title used
exclusively for people who have reached the pinnacle of university teaching and
research, what Americans call “full professor.”
But the American usage of
“professor” is more faithful to the Latin etymology of the term which,
according to the Online Etymology Dictionary, literally means a
“person who professes to be an expert in some art or science….” In the Romance
languages ( that is, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian, Italian, etc.),
which are the surviving linguistic children of Latin, professor is used to
denote teacher at any level of education.
While the generic term for a
university teacher in the British system is “lecturer,” in the American system
lecturer means something slightly different. There are two dominant senses of
the term in America. The first is a public speaker at certain universities. The
second sense is an inferior-rank university teacher who either does not possess
a Ph.D. or who has a Ph.D. but doesn’t have a tenure-track job. (I will explain
what “tenure-track” means shortly).
Lecturers are despised and
looked down upon with contempt in the American academe. They are overworked and
underpaid, only teach undergraduates, are not expected to be researchers, and
are often abandoned to vegetate on the fringes of academic departments in
American universities.
In the American system, fresh Ph.D.’s
start their careers as Assistant Professors. These positions may be
tenure-track or non-tenure-track. A tenure-track appointment is basically an
appointment that promises life-employment to an aspiring academic, usually
within six to seven years from the start of employment. In research-intensive
schools, the conditions for tenure is at least a peer-reviewed book published
by a reputable academic publishing house, a couple of referred academic journal
articles in reputable journals, some evidence of teaching excellence, and
service to the university and the community.
In teaching-heavy schools where the
focus is on undergraduate education, to earn tenure you have to show evidence
of teaching excellence, have a couple of peer-reviewed journal articles, some
academic conference presentations, and service to the university. When an
assistant professor meets the requirements for tenure, she will be promoted to
the rank of “associate professor,” and then finally to “full professor.”
Academic positions in the less
prestigious non-tenure-track option are “lecturer,” “visiting professor,” and
“adjunct professor.” An adjunct professor is a type of university teacher we
would call a “part-time lecturer” in the British system. Some people are
“adjuncts” by choice, perhaps because they have full-time jobs elsewhere and
can’t take a full-time employment in the university; many, however, take the
position because they can’t find tenure-track jobs.
Lecturers, on the other hand, are employed usually on a two-year contract that is subject to periodic review and renewal. The condition for the renewal of the contract is evidence of teaching effectiveness. There is no expectation of research productivity. The highest rank you can attain in the lecturer track is "senior lecturer," which is completely different from the British understanding of the term, as I will show shortly. In other words, lecturers never get to be "full professors."
Lecturers, on the other hand, are employed usually on a two-year contract that is subject to periodic review and renewal. The condition for the renewal of the contract is evidence of teaching effectiveness. There is no expectation of research productivity. The highest rank you can attain in the lecturer track is "senior lecturer," which is completely different from the British understanding of the term, as I will show shortly. In other words, lecturers never get to be "full professors."
In the American system, lecturers
are paid less, teach more courses, and have far less privileges and benefits
than tenure-track or tenured professors. They have no guarantee of life-time
employment; they can be fired from their jobs at any time for any reason. In
most departments, they are excluded from departmental meetings. They are similar
in some respects to “visiting” professors (i.e., visiting assistant professor,
visiting associate professor and visiting professor), except that a visiting
professorship is usually a terminal, non-renewable appointment that lasts no
longer than two years.
Lecturers, adjuncts, and
visiting professors are the intellectual slave laborers of the American
academe. Don’t call an American academic a “lecturer” if you’re not sure that’s
really their designation. Use the more generic “professor” if unsure.
Comparing
academic titles in the British and American systems
Now, it’s really difficult to match
the academic titles across the American and British systems. But it is
customary to state that “senior lecturer” in the British system is equivalent
to “assistant professor” in the American system, “reader” (which is rarely used
these days) in the British system is the equivalent of the American “associate
professor,” and “professor” in the British system is the equivalent of “full
professor” in the American system.
In reality, however, this is a false
equivalence, as I will soon show. But it’s interesting that most people who
attain the rank of “reader” in the British system prefer to be addressed as
“associate professor”; however, “senior lecturers” in the British system don’t
call themselves “assistant professors.” My sense is that the term “associate
professor” is popular in non-American contexts because it indicates that the
person associated with the title is only a step away from being a professor in
the British sense of the term, while the term “assistant professor” may give
the impression that the bearer of the title is merely an assistant to a
professor, which he is not.
In the British system, fresh Ph.D.’s
with no publication (especially in the humanities and in the social sciences)
begin their careers as Lecturer II, move up to Lecturer I, to Senior Lecturer,
Reader, and finally to Professor. (People with a master’s degree start their
university teaching careers as “assistant lecturers” and those with a
bachelor’s degree start as “graduate assistants.”)
That’s a far longer route than
the American system. But, then, the American system is way more rigorous than
the British system. The American system is structured in such a way that many
Ph.D. candidates leave their programs with substantial conference paper and
publication record--often enough to earn the position of "Senior
Lecturer" in the British system. Plus, the publish-or-perish (some say
it’s actually publish-and-perish) environment of the American academia makes
American academics way more productive than their counterparts in the British
system.
There also exists an interesting
terminological difference in the way university workers are collectively
addressed. In the British system, university teachers are collectively called
“academic staff.” That is why the name of the trade union for Nigerian
university teachers is Academic Staff Union of Universities.
But in American English the
collective term for university teachers is “faculty,” which in British English
means a division of a university that houses cognate subject areas, such as
“Faculty of Arts,” “Faculty of Science,” etc. “Professors” and “faculty” are
interchangeable terms in American English. That’s why the American equivalent
of the Nigerian Academic Staff Union of Universities is called the Association
of American University Professors, which is open to all people who teach in the
university—be they lecturers, adjuncts, visiting professors, tenure-track or tenured
professors.
In the American system, the term
“staff” is used only for people who don’t teach or research in the university,
what we call “non-academic staff” in the British system. So where the British
would say “academic and non-academic staff” Americans would say “faculty and
staff.”
Lastly, the American academe has
some professional titles that, to my knowledge, are absent in the British
system. For instance, there is in the American system what is called “professor
of the practice,” or “clinical professor,” which refers to people who are
awarded a professorial title because of their extensive immersion in and
knowledge of a field, although they may not have more than a bachelor’s degree.
The practice is intended to draw people with extensive industry experience to
the academe and to bridge the gap between the "town" and the “gown.”
This is especially common in such vocational and skill-based courses as
journalism, engineering, business, etc.
This is unnecessary in the (old)
British system because people can attain the highest rank in their academic
careers with just a bachelor's degree. Wole Soyinka, Chinua Achebe, JP Clark,
etc. became professors (or, if you will, "full professors") without
having Ph.D.’s. The National Universities Commission has, however, now made it
impossible for anybody without a Ph.D. to proceed beyond the rank of
"Senior Lecturer."
Americans also have what they call
“research professors” who are hired only to conduct research; they don’t teach
any courses.
Comparing
everyday university terms
Then there is a whole world of
difference in the vocabulary for everyday university activities. For instance,
what we call “question papers” in British English are better known as “tests”
in American English. When I first came here, I had occasion to instruct my students
to not write on their "question papers" because I wanted to use the
same papers for another class. The students all looked blankly at me.
I initially thought they had
problems with my Nigerian accent. So I not only enunciated it clearly and
slowly, I also wrote it on the board. But they still said, “What’s that?” And
when I pointed to their “question papers,” they exclaimed, “Oh, you mean we
should not write on the test?” Write on the test? Test is an abstract noun. How
the hell do you literally write on an idea? Anyway, I have since stopped
calling question papers by their name; they are “tests.”
Again, American professors don’t
“mark scripts”; they “grade papers.” And they don’t award or reduce students’
“marks”; they give or “take off” students’ “grades” or “points.” And there is
this whole concept of “curve” or “curving” in the American academe that I don’t
think has an equivalent in the Nigerian British-derived system.
Sometime in the early part of my
stay here, about half of my students got really low scores in my first test. On
the day I handed out their test grades, one female student stood up and asked
if I would give her a “curve.”
I wondered silently what in Heaven’s
name she meant by a “curve.” But I knew that the girl knew enough to know that
only God could bring curves to her skinny, almost masculine, physique at that
stage of her life. So she couldn’t possibly mean that she wanted me to do
something about her lack of bodily endowments. Besides, there were also men in
the class who should have no business with "curves" but who wanted a
“curve” from me. So I asked, “What curve”?
Seeing my confusion—and its obvious
implication, because I must have been unconsciously examining the lady’s body
to observe the absence of curves on her!—somebody volunteered to change the
structure of the sentence to, “Will you curve the grades?” It was then I got a
hint that they were probably asking if I would add extra “points” across the
board to move the class average up.
I couldn’t relate to it because it
was a strange concept for me. In Nigeria, my teachers never gave me grades that
I didn’t work for. Second, I just couldn’t associate the word “curve” with the
arbitrary increase in the grades of students to raise the class average—perhaps
because of my weak quantitative reasoning abilities. I don’t draw graphs; I
only draw word pictures. A recent
article I read from a retired, frustrated British academic called
this “scaling.” So the Brits now have the American equivalent of
"curving." I am not sure this practice-- and the corresponding
terminology-- has percolated to Nigeria yet.
Again, "certificate" is
not a generic word for paper qualifications, as it is in British English; when
the word is used in an educational context in America, it usually implies a
document certifying the completion of a short, crash course. “Diploma” is the
generic word for all manner of certificates—secondary school certificate, bachelor’s,
master’s, and doctoral degrees, etc.; it does not mean a sub-degree
qualification, as it does in British English. And “college” is the generic word
for university, although it technically means an institution that only awards
four-year bachelor’s degrees. When somebody is described as “college-educated,”
it often means he or she has at least a bachelor’s degree. “College professor”
is also the generic term for what in British English we would call “university
lecturer.” In British English, college can mean high school.
And then you have this fascinating
semantic and lexical inversion of the names for the lengthy research papers
students write at the end of their degree programs. In British English, people
write “dissertations” at the end of their bachelor’s and master’s degree
programs and “thesis” at the end of their Ph.D. study. In America, people write
“honor’s thesis” at the end of their bachelor’s degree programs, a “thesis” at
the end of their master’s programs, and a “dissertation” at the end of their
Ph.D. programs.
Another expression in the American
academic community that intrigues me greatly is “commencement exercise.” When I
was first invited to a “commencement” at the end of my first semester at an
American university I wondered what the hell anybody would be commencing at the
end of a semester. I thought “commencement” was the American equivalent of the
British “matriculation,” and couldn’t understand why students would be
matriculating at the end of a semester.
I later learned that “commencement”
is actually the American equivalent of the British “convocation” while
“orientation” is the American equivalent of the British “matriculation.” My
friends told me that the logic behind the word commencement is that it is when
people graduate that they really "commence" the journey to the
"real world." I later found out, though, that some American
universities use “convocation” in the same way that it is used in British
English.
Finally, Americans reserve the term “thesis”
only for the final research projects that bachelor's and master's students
write and use "dissertation" for the treatise that Ph.D. students
write. In British English, on the other hand, “dissertation” is used only for the
final research projects that undergraduates write (which Americans call “honors
thesis” or “senior thesis”) and “thesis” for the capstone research by master’s
and Ph.D. students
Whatever the case, the vernaculars of the academe in the
British and American systems present fascinating examples of the vitality and
diversity of the English language.
Related Articles:
1. A Comparison of Nigerian, American and British English
2. Why is "Sentiment" Such a Bad Word in Nigeria?
3. Ambassador Aminchi's Impossible Grammatical Logic
4. 10 Most Annoying Nigerian Media English Expressions
5. Sambawa and "Peasant Attitude to Governance"
6. Adverbial and Adjectival Abuse in Nigerian English
7. In Defense of "Flashing" and Other Nigerianisms
8. Weird Words We're Wedded to in Nigerian English
9. American English or British English?
10. Hypercorrection in Nigerian English
11. Nigerianisms, Americanisms, Briticisms and Communication Breakdown
12. Top 10 Irritating Errors in American English
13. Nigerian Editors Killing Macebuh Twice with Bad Grammar
14. On "Metaphors" and "Puns" in Nigerian English
15. Common Errors of Pluralization in Nigerian English
16. Q & A About Common Grammatical Problems
17. Semantic Change and the Politics of English Pronunciation
2. Why is "Sentiment" Such a Bad Word in Nigeria?
3. Ambassador Aminchi's Impossible Grammatical Logic
4. 10 Most Annoying Nigerian Media English Expressions
5. Sambawa and "Peasant Attitude to Governance"
6. Adverbial and Adjectival Abuse in Nigerian English
7. In Defense of "Flashing" and Other Nigerianisms
8. Weird Words We're Wedded to in Nigerian English
9. American English or British English?
10. Hypercorrection in Nigerian English
11. Nigerianisms, Americanisms, Briticisms and Communication Breakdown
12. Top 10 Irritating Errors in American English
13. Nigerian Editors Killing Macebuh Twice with Bad Grammar
14. On "Metaphors" and "Puns" in Nigerian English
15. Common Errors of Pluralization in Nigerian English
16. Q & A About Common Grammatical Problems
17. Semantic Change and the Politics of English Pronunciation
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