Dissertation Genericization
Learned Vol. 8, Issue 23
Let me ask you this - is a TikTok still a tiktok when it’s posted on Instagram? Does it have to go live on TikTok first for it to be a tiktok or can it still be a tiktok when it’s recorded in the Instagram app? In other words, has tiktok, lowercase noun, become genericized? You know, like bandaid and kleenex and google. All brands that used to be proper nouns with capital letters and everything, but are now just easy alternatives to the more complicated yet banal terms bandage, tissue, and web search.
Ok. Maybe TikTok is a bad example. After all, just because I heard it that way one time does not make it a trend. So how about Stanley? I don’t have a Stanley. I got a Yeti. ‘Cause I’m badass like that. Doesn’t change the fact that should I forget my Yeti at home, my co-workers will ask why I don’t have my Stanley despite them all having been told repeatedly that my “stainless steel travel tumbler” is a freaking Yeti. It’s the little things that let us know we’re loved, or so they tell me.
Anyway, one more example for you, and this one is truthier than the others - a while back, my family went to a mall.1 One of the things we were shopping for was a “stainless steel travel tumbler” because I did not yet have a Yeti. Or a Stanley. So as we’re walking, I saw a storefront with a number of thermoses on display. Turned out, the reason for the display is because it was an actual Thermos™ store. It’s a branded term. Or it was at one point and is, apparently, in the midst of a brand revival.2 Who knew? Not me and I’ve studied this bullshit formally!
A few years ago, I did my master’s dissertation on the genericization of brand names.3 What I found was that if a brand name (or product’s name) is shorter and catchier or if the brand name differentiates a product from a more generic name. Ironic, I know. But, for concrete examples of both, think of Post-its. The generic term is “repositionable note.” That is neither short nor catchy. Further, “repositionable note” covers a lot of ground. Is it magnetic? Tape-backed? Velcro? Gotcha.4
In the years since I finished my dissertation,5 the genericization of brands has continued much as it always has. And while, sure, my examples of Stanley and TikTok might only be at the initial stages of genericization, plenty of others aren’t. Think of Zoom, Roomba, and Uber. All three brands show signs of becoming the default term used regardless of the actual product.
But that brings me back to dissertation. A dissertation, in the modern, academic sense, is basically a synonym for thesis, itself a synonym for a glorified, overstuffed term paper+. Only, you know how it is here at Learned, we know there are no true synonyms in English and that anytime you have a place where you can swap one word for another, you trade nuance for simplicity.
See, the problem is that dissertations have become such a standard part of the educational package that they’ve been downgraded from their original meaning. It’s almost like they’ve become a generic6 tool rather than a focussed discourse driver.
What I mean is, dissertation comes to English from Latin dissertātiō. It was borrowed into academic English in the 17th century and has basically sat unchallenged as the means of proving you have contributed meaningfully to your field and thus you should be awarded an MA or a Ph.D.7 But the verb disserere means to discuss, not set in stone and then hide in a library where no one will ever read it. I may be exaggerating that last part a bit. But not by much.
Because, unfortunately, that’s the fate of a hell of a lot of dissertations at all levels of education. What a waste.
Take my own dissertation. I like it. I worked my ass off getting it done. And it did the job I needed it to do8 but since then, it hasn’t really done much of anything.9 It certainly hasn’t led to any discussions; it feels like the modern dissertation is at odds with the intent of the academics who borrowed it into English in the first place.
If a dissertation is not going to lead, contribute to, or otherwise provoke a discussion, then you might as well stick it in a white box next to the flavored grape drink, diet cola, and hypertext web search.
Stay curious,
Joel
To buy things we don’t really need for really great prices! Yeah capitalism!
Think of brands like Kodak - they don’t really exist anymore except as a way for new companies to cash in on the feelings us old heads associate with the brand name.
I got a B+ thankyouverymuch.
Velcro is also a brand name. For “hook and loop fasteners.”
Bitter? Me? Noooo.
That’s called tying it all together, amigo.
You good little creature, you.
B freaking plus, y’all.
Not for lack of trying, believe me but it turns out most people really aren’t all that interested in hearing about the slow genericization of popular brand names. And now you know the real reason I keep writing this newsletter. I have to have someone to talk to. Thank you so much for reading.