über-respectable
Daily Telegraphから。タイトルに重きを置くのはドイツも同じですね（いや、日本よりも激しいかも）。学位（博士）をとったとき、調子に乗ってロンドンからの帰国便の予約時に「Dr.」と書いたまでは良かったのですが、その便で病人が出てフライトアテンダントがわたしのところにやって来たことを思い出しました。über-respectableのüberは英語のsuperやbeyond相当します。そこから、なぜか英語にも持ち込まれ「超〜」という意味で用いられることがあります。（UG）
Trust him he's a doctor... and a professor... and an engineer
Life in Germany often reminds me of early 1990s Hythe in Kent, where my grandmother used to admonish us to “say hello to the man behind the counter” in every shop she took us into and call everyone not in her immediate friendship circle by their second name. Germans, too, set great store by exchanging greetings with one another, and still make liberal use of the surnames of those they are not familiar with.
And while I’m all for a little more everyday civility than is usual in south London, the German concern with the pettier side of manners is sometimes infuriating – especially the obsession with forms of address, where politeness quickly descends into obsequiousness. It’s not just matters of simple courtesy like calling your Ärztin “Dr Yilmaz” while she’s got her torch in your ear or saying “Herr Polizist” to the man asking you to produce identification with his left hand on his gun holster; no, it’s far more complex.
Secretaries at companies spend hours scratching their heads and searching Google to find out if the person they are writing to is a Diplom-Ingenieur (engineer) so that they can address him as “Herr Dipl.-Ing. Brückenbauer”, while housewives of a nervous disposition ring up utilities companies to find out if the person coming round to check their flues is a simple Schornsteinfeger (chimney sweep) or needs to be addressed as Herr Meister-Schornsteinfeger.
While most people in big cities have become far more relaxed about this kind of thing, the titles-tendency is still rife in small university towns, where anyone with letters before their name can expect to be called by them – and often given privileged treatment into the bargain. The result is that academic titles are not worn lightly as badges of learning, but flashed at every possible occasion for a variety of rarely unselfish reasons.
If a young man with PhD is applying for the lease on a flat, for example, he’ll make sure to put “Dr Eugen Schinkler” on the letting agent’s questionnaire. When he then gets the flat (as he is now sure to), he’ll slap “Dr Schinkler” on the letterbox – and next to the intercom buzzer for good measure. You’ll hear him at the baker’s down the road, ordering fresh rolls for Sunday morning under the name “Herr Doktor Schinkler”, and you’ll look on astonished as the girl at the counter immediately straightens her back and beams at the suddenly über-respectable academic doyen who has decided to grace this lowly suburban bread vendor with his presence.
