Beneath the Surface By Dakuku Peterside
There was a time when the title “Doctor” carried quiet authority. It did not need a loud introduction or ceremonial exaggeration. It signified years of intellectual discipline: research, argument, failure, revision, peer scrutiny and, finally, an original contribution to knowledge. To earn it was not merely to acquire a prefix; it was to pass through a demanding formation of the mind. That is why the growing abuse of honorary doctorates is not a harmless social fashion. It is a symptom of a wider values crisis—one in which appearance increasingly displaces achievement, patronage imitates merit, and ceremony is mistaken for substance.
Properly understood, the honorary doctorate is not a form of academic achievement, but rather a symbolic recognition. It differs from an earned doctorate in that it is awarded to individuals who have made extraordinary contributions to society, regardless of their academic background. For example, a statesman who defended human freedom, an inventor who transformed daily life, an artist who expanded cultural imagination, a reformer who changed institutions, or a philanthropist whose work altered human possibilities may deserve such recognition. In these rare cases, the university is not claiming that the recipient completed doctoral coursework or defended a thesis. Rather, it acknowledges that a life of exceptional public impact constitutes a distinct form of knowledge.
The crisis begins when this distinction collapses.
When honorary doctorates are handed out casually or conferred on the powerful without clear standards, they lose meaning. Used as tools for fundraising and political courtship, they stop honouring excellence. Instead, they start to reveal institutional weakness. What should be rare becomes routine. What should be solemn becomes theatrical. The gown, the citation, and the applause remain, but meaning quietly disappears.
Nigeria offers a particularly revealing stage for this problem because titles already occupy an outsized place in public life. Here, titles often travel ahead of the character. Chief, Alhaji, Professor, Engineer, Doctor—these markers can open doors, silence questions, and more. In such a culture, the casual distribution of honorary doctorates does more than flatter egos; it feeds the dangerous illusion that distinction can be conferred without discipline and that prestige can be acquired without performance.
The damage goes far beyond academic etiquette. It weakens public trust. When citizens see honorary degrees bestowed on politicians, donors and public figures whose contributions are unclear or whose reputations are contested, they begin to suspect that universities are no different from the patronage systems they ought to challenge. This is a grave loss. The university should be one of society’s last sanctuaries of truth. It should be where claims are tested, evidence is demanded, excellence is earned, and authority is interrogated. Once it enters the marketplace of flattery, it diminishes its own moral power.
The misuse of “Dr” by honorary degree recipients deepens the problem. The issue is not vanity alone; vanity is present, but the deeper issue is misrepresentation. In public life, most people do not distinguish between an earned and an honorary doctorate. A person introduced as “Dr” is assumed to have advanced academic training. The title implies expertise. It can boost credibility in politics, business, media, public policy, and professional circles. When an honorary recipient uses the prefix without qualification, confusion follows.
The Federal Government’s recent decision to prohibit honorary doctorate recipients from prefixing “Dr” to their names deserves firm and unequivocal support. It is not an act of academic snobbery; it is a necessary defence of truth in public life. The policy rightly insists that honorary degrees may be acknowledged as post-nominal distinctions but not presented as earned academic qualifications.
Nigeria is also not acting in isolation. Across Africa, regulators are beginning to confront the same distortion. Ghana’s Tertiary Education Commission has directed holders of honorary doctorate and professorial titles to stop using them publicly, warning that misuse undermines academic credibility and may attract sanctions. Ethiopia has similarly barred honorary doctorate holders from using “Doctor” outside the awarding institution and has restricted serving political actors from receiving such honours. In South Africa, the Council on Higher Education has developed a Good Practice Guide to restore rigour, clarity, and consistency in the award of honorary degrees and professorships, including the use of associated titles.
These examples show that Nigeria’s policy is part of a wider continental correction: academic titles must not become costumes for status-seeking; they must remain markers of earned discipline, verified competence and institutional integrity.
There is also an injustice that is too often ignored. Every unearned title casually worn diminishes the symbolic value of titles earned through sacrifice. It mocks the young scholar balancing teaching duties with doctoral research. It reduces the likelihood that the lecturer will publish under difficult conditions. It insults the scientist working in an underfunded laboratory, the policy researcher collecting data in insecure communities, the historian buried in archives, and the public intellectual whose authority has been built slowly through evidence and discipline. When the same title is worn by those who have merely received ceremonial recognition, the line between achievement and flattery is blurred.
Universities must accept responsibility for this anomaly. Outsiders cannot cheapen what institutions do not allow. If honorary doctorates are overused, it is because councils, senates, and committees have surrendered to pressure, politics, money, or convenience. Some institutions now treat honorary degrees as public relations tools. They attract donations, reward political patrons, flatter influential figures, or buy visibility. The gain may seem useful, especially during underfunding, but the long-term cost is severe. A university that sells prestige eventually sees that prestige is its most valuable asset.
Restoring credibility requires more than a complaint. It requires reform.
First, honorary doctorates must return to rarity. Scarcity is part of honour. A university should not confer such degrees as though distributing souvenirs at a banquet. There should be strict annual limits, and exceptions should be almost impossible to obtain. The fewer the awards, the more serious each one must be.
Second, the criteria must be public, specific, and defensible. “Distinguished service” is too vague in societies shaped by patronage. Distinguished in what field? Measured by what evidence? Over what period? With what independent verification? Wealth, political office, or popularity alone should never qualify anyone. Even generous philanthropy must be examined. The honour should recognise real social transformation, not indebtedness.
Third, the selection process must be free from political and financial pressure. Universities should disclose broad reasons for awards and any potential conflicts of interest. If a major donor is honoured, the public must know the degree is not just a decorated receipt. If a serving politician is recognised, the justification must be even higher. Institutions must be careful when honouring those in public office, as recognition can easily turn into lobbying.
Fourth, recipients should be told not to use “Dr” as a public title. They may state they received an honorary doctorate from a named institution. That is enough honour. A ceremonial award should not become a tool for personal rebranding. Universities should make this clear in award letters, citations, and announcements. Media, government protocol offices, and professional bodies should stop reinforcing confusion by referring to honorary recipients as “earned doctorates.”
Fifth, regulatory authorities must move beyond polite guidance. The National Universities Commission and relevant academic bodies should establish enforceable standards for honorary awards, including caps, disclosure rules, eligibility requirements, sanctions for abuse, and mechanisms for revocation when honours are tainted by improper influence. Professional associations should apply similar discipline to fellowships and honorary titles.
Prestige survives, but regulation alone cannot cure a moral disorder. The deeper challenge is cultural. Societies get the title culture they tolerate. As long as citizens worship titles without questioning substance, institutions will keep producing them. If the media keep amplifying every new “Dr” without clarification, confusion will deepen. If political actors keep collecting ceremonial honours, the academy will stay vulnerable to capture.
The goal is not to abolish honorary doctorates. It is to rescue them. A truly deserved honorary doctorate can still be beautiful. It can remind society that knowledge is not limited to classrooms. Some lives become textbooks of courage, service, and imagination. But this beauty depends on restraint. The more casually honours are given, the less honourable they become. At stake is more than academic protocol. The abuse of honorary doctorates reflects a national habit of rewarding appearance over achievement. It is closely related to inflated résumés, purchased awards, empty ceremonies, and institutions confusing proximity to power with excellence. To confront this, we must ask a deeper question: what kind of society do we want to become? Do we want distinction to be earned or arranged? Do we want institutions to defend truth or flatter influence? The doctorate must mean something again. The professoriate must mean something. Fellowships must matter. Academic titles should not be status ornaments; they should mark disciplined contribution. To restore their worth, universities must regain the courage to say no—to donors, politicians, celebrities, trustees, friends, and benefactors.
Their highest asset is not money, access or applause. It is credibility. Once credibility is squandered, no honorary citation can restore it. But if institutions choose rigour over pretense, restraint over proliferation and merit over patronage, the doctorate can regain its dignity. And perhaps, in defending the sanctity of one title, society may begin the larger work of defending truth itself.
•Dr Dakuku Peterside is the author of Leading in a Storm and Beneath the Surface.