The Epidemic

Khem Raj Gautam

Norway

I am profoundly moved to announce a groundbreaking development in my household. My ten-year-old child has finally mastered the perilous art of wiping their own butt. Yes, you read that correctly. No parental intervention, no step-by-step guidance, no heroic assistance. Just pure, unadulterated autonomy—a milestone in personal hygiene, cognitive coordination, and emotional independence. Clearly, such an achievement warrants public acknowledgment, applause, and perhaps even a commemorative Facebook post.

After all, it is arguably a far more deserving celebration than publicly honoring a college lecturer —often without a PhD or any measurable research record —for their “research contributions” by naming them a full professor. Sometimes the individual even adopts the grand title themselves. My daughter’s achievement is at least as impressive as that of the “jumping doctor,” recently honored for a Swiss-quality doctorate, hailed as a monumental contribution to societal health. These acts of celebrating mediocrity and outright fakeness have become a clear trend in our community.

“Honor Me, I’ll Honor You” Loop 

The prevalence is so absurd that it makes me genuinely sick. I have read Certificate of Appreciation letters awarded by an organization to its own founder, supposedly celebrating excellence in literary contribution. The text, riddled with errors, is so appalling that it raises the question of whether the honoree should actually be ashamed. The reality? The person being praised can’t write two proper sentences.

We have immersed ourselves in a never-ending loop of “honor me and I will honor you.” Organization A praises Organization B for outstanding achievements in journalism, and Organization B promptly publishes an article celebrating the recognition. The practice is no different from “follow me and I will follow you back” on Instagram. We have become part of a meme-like social media culture, and the funniest part is that the participants rarely even realize it.

Even when everything is staged, the cycle continues. People who are “honored” forget that the recognition was essentially meaningless and begin to believe they truly achieved something. The lecturer, who granted a fake title of professor, now genuinely thinks he is a scholar. The writer with second-grade level Nepali skills suddenly believes they have made a significant contribution to literature. The women’s rights activist—who reportedly has three wives in three different countries—takes pride in their “tremendous work” on women’s empowerment. Titles are bestowed, articles published, pride inflated, and the participants, entirely unaware, congratulate themselves on accomplishments that may not exist.

Ceremonies Galore, Substance Nowhere 

The trend is impossible to miss. Our society now boasts more ceremonies than substance: more awards than books, more certificates than actual work, and more degree presentations than years spent in school. Social media feeds overflow with announcements of recognition, yet the achievements behind them are almost always meaningless. Cleaning ladies are celebrated as Chief Maintenance Officers, and office boys are crowned Chief Strategy Managers. Of course, it is not inherently wrong to celebrate every part of society, but when everything is elevated to grandiose titles, the line between genuine accomplishment and meaningless recognition disappears.

The funniest part is that everything today is measured by the number of likes on social media. The more likes, the greater the achievement—and we are starting to believe it.

But what does this say about us? We have come a long way—from new immigrants in entry-level jobs to homeowners, professionals, and entrepreneurs. We have built a reputation on hard work, ambition, and visible achievement. And yet, some of us are now indulging in the very culture I am lampooning. We are awarding meaningless titles, celebrating appearances over substance, and turning recognition into a game of social media applause.

If we continue down this path, we risk turning our own success into a parody. Young people may start to believe that likes, ceremonies, and fancy titles matter more than actual skill, effort, or knowledge. Genuine accomplishments get lost in the flood of hollow accolades.

Focus on the Real Achievement 

Where are we headed? The hope is that we reclaim our focus on real achievement—to become a group recognized for knowledge, skills, and tangible contributions. Our eventual aim should be to rise as an elite, respected force within the mainstream, where excellence is not a performance for the camera but a measurable force that inspires and commands recognition. I have been advocating the same for quite some time now.

Actual achievement takes time. Quality work cannot be rushed or measured by applause, likes, or ceremonies. Our effort should go into doing the work itself, not chasing recognition. Real achievers exist among us—the engineer who quietly master’s his craft, the teacher shaping the next generation of mathematicians, the professor leading a university department, the federal government worker designing critical policies, and the artisan who innovates without seeking the spotlight. We don’t need to drag them into the limelight, nor should we dilute their contributions by celebrating mediocrity. Let their work speak for itself, and let our community learn to value substance over spectacle.

The Butt of the Matter 

You might dismiss me, of course. Sometimes, I’m not even sure of my own right to speak. Who am I to declare that an unearned professorship is wrong, or that traded applause is meaningless? Perhaps my ten-year-old’s small, private triumph isn’t more valuable than a lifetime of community politicking.

This culture of inflated titles and self-congratulation isn’t just a local trend; it’s the American way, perhaps now a global epidemic. Maybe it’s my European mind that can’t comprehend the American practice of self-celebration. The Nobel Peace Prize, an award administered by Norwegians, given for true global contribution, is the zenith—rarely sought, never demanded. Yet, an American President can claim such an honor for the asking. And perhaps the Nobel Committee will simply surrender to the American style in the end—after all, why fight it?

Perhaps I’m simply out of step, an immigrant clinging to an antiquated belief in measurable merit. Maybe I’m just slow to grasp this new standard, where image is the only achievement and authenticity is the only thing truly frowned upon.

All I know is that when the applause fades and the fancy titles vanish, you still have to wipe your own butt. And that, my friends, is an achievement worth celebrating.

[The post expresses the writer’s views – Editor]