Graduation Ceremonies 2015
Academic Oration
18 November 2015
Dr Jean-Paul De Lucca
Centre for the Liberal Arts and Sciences
“Put your bonnet to his right use; 'tis for the head.”
– Shakespeare, Hamlet (Act 5, Scene 2)
Graduations are about hats, and about putting them to good use.
Trenchers will soon be placed on the new graduates’ heads. The symbolism of this act is
described in the Latin formula that precedes the placing of the cap on the head of the first
new graduate from each course. It recalls the ancient practice of crowning champions with
the laurels of victory. Today you are all winners, and all of us gathered here join you in
celebrating your achievement. Congratulations!
This evening’s ceremony is not just a matter of pomp and circumstance. It has something to
it that C.S. Lewis would describe as “the proper pleasure of ritual” – which, he says, should
not be spoilt by “doing ceremonial things unceremoniously” (A Preface to Paradise Lost, p.
16). The significance of today’s celebration goes beyond the obvious fact that you will be
walking out of this hall with a rather precious piece of paper in hand and a couple of letters
after your name, which are no doubt useful to pursue further studies and embark on your
careers. The gestures, words and robes used in the ceremonial are intended to help us
understand the meaning of graduating. So the simple question I propose to you is: What
might it mean to be a graduate of the University of Malta?
A word that is used not once, but four times, during the graduation ceremonial might point
towards an answer. Addressing the graduands, the Registrar will announce that the
University authorities have decided to declare them worthy (digna) of graduating. The Dean
or Director will use the same word when presenting the candidates to the Rector. During
the robing, the Rector will begin by exhorting the graduand to “take the symbols of your
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dignity, and understand what they mean according to the customs of the past”. The robing
then ends with the symbolic gesture of the Rector embracing the graduand and
congratulating him/her for the dignity (dignitas) obtained.
The classical idea of dignity denoted authority and privilege, in virtue of which one was
deemed worthy of respect. By this account, being a graduate would mean that you have
acquired a degree of knowledge that enables you to carry out certain functions or take
certain decisions with some authority. This hard-earned privilege gives you a certain status
that commands respect. The classical idea of dignity was tied to possessing something, such
as a title or a degree. Over the centuries, however, the meaning of the word shifted from a
focus on ‘having’ to one of ‘being’. In a broad sense, it has come to mean that every person
is worthy of respect as a human being irrespective of one’s status and possessions. It also
implies a sense of responsibility and rising up to the occasion.
Being a graduate, as opposed to simply having a degree, means, I think, that the proof of
what you are worth is not in the certificate you hold but in what you do with it. Dignity is
not about having a possession but about knowing that you are worthy of it. Seen in this way,
this evening’s ceremony marks something more than a crowning at the end of a relatively
short and successful journey. It celebrates the opening up of possibilities for you to prove
your worth. You can do this, I would suggest, in at least three ways: by being creative, being
thoughtfully engaged, and being good.
Creativity has become somewhat of a cliché tied to production, innovation and competition
in economy-driven contexts. Creativity is of course linked to making and transforming, as
the Greek word poiesis suggests. ‘To create’, however, means ‘to grow’. If you want to be
creative, grow - always. I understand growth in two complementary ways. First, grow as a
person: keep learning, broadening your knowledge and drawing inspiration from your own
experiences and those of others. Second, grow as many metaphorical plants as you can. I
claim no expertise in matters of gardening, but it does not take much to know that growing
a plant requires dedication and care. Care about what you do and about the people you are
in contact with. In whatever you do, big or small, scatter good seeds through your ideas, and
through your actions dedicate yourselves to bringing about positive changes. This is the
creative responsibility of a worthy graduate who is an agent of change.
The philosopher of education John Dewey (in The Educational Balance, Efficiency and
Thinking) suggested that teachers should be thoughtfully engaged in getting students to
‘artistically’ tackle the challenges of reality. All of us can look back at our experiences and
remember instances in which those who taught us managed to do this splendidly. This
attitude is worth emulating, and not only by teachers. Two of the major risks our societies
face are thoughtlessness (in the form of banalising or trivialising what matters) and
disengagement. The effects of the inability to listen genuinely and articulate intelligently – in
other words, the inability to dialogue – cannot be underestimated. Graduating should mean
that you have reached a degree or level of ability to engage thoughtfully and intelligently.
Never underrate or waste your potential to contribute meaningfully to discussions and
processes that might otherwise be trivial in content. This is where your worth is put to test.
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In whatever you will be doing, rise to the occasion, in the belief that society might be better
off with your contribution, however small it may be.
Whether you got a first or a third class might not matter much in a few years’ time. Rather,
what will matter is how good you are at what you do. Put to full use the knowledge and
skills you have acquired in a professional way. After emphasising for decades the need for
narrow and exclusively specialised training – as opposed to education in a broader and
deeper sense – professions and employers are now becoming increasingly aware of the
value of breadth, flexibility and good attitudes. The so-called ‘soft skills’ linked to one’s
personality, which had long been taken for granted, are now seen as critical requirements
for success. The same applies to standards of professional ethics, such as integrity,
conscientiousness, judiciousness, fairness, rectitude, reliability, diligence and honesty.
Cicero famously asked: “Where is there dignity unless there is goodness [honestas]?” (Ad
Atticum, VII, 11, 1). I translate ‘honestas’ as ‘goodness’ for it encapsulates the virtues I have
just mentioned. One’s true worth (dignity), then, lies not only in possessing qualifications
and excelling in what one does, but also in being good. Sometimes it is easy to turn cynical
or sceptical about such values, especially when those who are neither particularly virtuous
nor remarkably good at what they do make it anyway. But as I said before, dignity is
knowing that you are worthy of something.
Being creative, being thoughtfully engaged and being good are possible ways of being a
worthy university graduate. They are also core values of a university worthy of its name.
By its very nature, a university is a creative space, where minds are nourished to grow and
bear fruit, as the motto of our own University suggests. This growth is achieved through
research, study and discussion. Through its researchers and graduates the university
contributes to the growth of our society. Universities are not there to meet short-term and
often myopic demands. They exist to contribute, creatively and critically, to shaping a vision
of society, and to trace the paths and develop the means to achieve that vision.
The physiognomy of the university is changing rapidly to include virtual campuses and adapt
to the flexibility required by a more heterogeneous cohort of students. In doing so,
however, it cannot afford to lose its meaning: since its origins the very word ‘university’
denoted its fundamental character as a ‘community of teachers and students’ (universitas
magistorum et scholarium). Whether virtual or physical, the university remains by definition
a community of learning. Such a community has never existed in isolation: it has always
strived to excel through cooperation and exchange, not least with other similar
communities.
Narrowly applying the economic logic of global competition to universities could prove
catastrophic. Universities are fundamentally cooperative. This is why so many of our
graduates have studied at other universities and our own University welcomes an everincreasing number of exchange students. Many academics are involved in international
networks and we participate in research projects together with colleagues from other
institutions. Every year our University hosts researchers and visiting lecturers from all over
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the world, and our own researchers and lecturers share their work across the globe. We do
not establish monopolies, we pool in resources. This is how we grow.
By vocation, a university promotes thoughtful engagement. One of the greatest thinkers of
the 20th century, Hannah Arendt, argued exquisitely that intolerance and evil stem from
thoughtlessness. Prejudice, thoughtlessness and disengagement only play into the hands of
those who spread evil, hate and violence. The mission of a university is to be an antithesis
and an antidote to this. I believe it is no coincidence that we have often been reminded in
inauguration speeches that intolerance and prejudice have no place here. A university
worthy of its name is a place of encounter where differences are not feared. Thoughts and
ideas form the basis of engagement through discussion and research, which is the hallmark
of a university.
A university that is not actively and consistently engaged in high-calibre research is little
more than a degree-churning enterprise, perhaps a lucrative one, but a university only in
name. An engaged university also opens its doors to those for whom tertiary education
might not be an automatic option, as well as to those graduates who seek new and flexible
opportunities for further personal and professional development. Creativity, research and
outreach make for a good university.
Notwithstanding any and all of its shortcomings, and those of its individual members, our
alma mater is one to be proud of. With an outstanding past behind it, the University of
Malta has undergone many positive changes that enable it to look forward to a bright
future. Over the last ten years, it has grown under the leadership of Professor Juanito
Camilleri. These graduation ceremonies will be his last as Rector and so allow me, on your
behalf and on behalf of many other graduates and colleagues, to extend to him a vote of
thanks for his vision and hard work.
A beer-drinking song that was popular in the medieval equivalent of modern-day buscades
is nowadays a solemn sounding piece often performed during graduation ceremonies; it is
commonly known as Gaudeamus igitur (‘Let us be happy’). This evening you are all
graduating and this is cause for happiness and celebration. I hope that when you are no
longer wearing your hat you will still remember what it means, and be worthy of your
degree by putting it to the right use.
You will always have your ups and downs, as university life has surely taught you, but allow
me to share with you the words of the French essayist and philosopher Michel de
Montaigne: “The most explicit mark of wisdom is constant happiness [esjouissance]”
(Essays, I, 26). This, according to him, is what the pursuit of learning is all about. In whatever
you do, seek to learn and be happy, and be happy with what you learn and do. Gaudete
igitur!
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