The Dark Pentad

There was a time when academic institutions would award honorary degrees to individuals who had accomplished great things in the world. The practice was quite advantageous for both parties; it allowed the university to benefit by associating with an individual of great merit, while the individual gained the status associated with the backing of a university. But then the practice took a darker turn: in AES 845, the architect and attempted visionary Hans Flugelsson undertook a nationwide project to irrigate his desert homeland of Joran, but made several fatal errors in his calculations. The results were unfortunate, to say the least, and Flugelsson became the recipient of immense ridicule from the international community. In the midst of this uproar, the University of Shaster attempted a publicity stunt by awarding Flugelsson a degree in "Imagineering."

The immense positive response to this move led other universities to follow suit whenever public works programs went awry. The emerging popularity of "dark degrees" was bolstered by the addition of thanatology in 849 for academics whose work led to a large number of deaths and dysthetics in 851 for artists whose work was just terrible. These became known as the "Dark Triad" until economics was introduced in AES 891, for obvious reasons. This led to some confusion over what to name these dishonorary degrees, a conversation that would not resolve until the first misosophy degree was awarded in 915 for egregious violations of scholarly norms.

Today, Pentad degrees are most often awarded in-house as the result of some internal investigation of wrongdoing. While it's not uncommon for academics to accuse each other for political reasons, Pentad degrees are usually conferred only in extreme situations. (There are exceptions, of course.) Receiving a Pentad degree is typically a deathblow to one's career. Knowing this, academics have developed complicated social customs built around mitigating the threat of possible accusations. For example, should a shared research project provoke a Pentad hearing, the second-to-last author on the paper is typically summoned instead of the senior author, thus protecting the careers of established academics. The scapegoat slot is naturally, therefore, filled by adjunct professors.

Despite the extreme stigma surrounding the Dark Pentad, however, they are each a functioning academic field. Just like a legitimate academic field, they have journals, conferences, and even advanced degree programs. Mainstream conferences try not to acknowledge Pentad academics, but it is common practice to block out time for "alternate perspectives," which is tacitly understood to be reserved for Pentad pariahs and naive professors who are about to spend the rest of their careers ignorant of why no one wants to co-author any papers with them.

Being the academic equivalent of a leper can be trying at times, but it does have its benefits. Just as nobody wants to share a room with a leper, for example, no regular academic wants to share an office with a Pentad. So, if you're a Pentad who wants an office, all you really have to do is walk into someone's office and start working there, and they'll quickly make themselves scarce to avoid any association with you. I work at a correspondence university, so we don't even own any buildings — yeah, yeah, the main campus still exists in the Incendian homeland, stuff it — and yet I've never been lacking for an office, even when I'm only visiting another university for the weekend. I was the de facto chair of a department for a week just because I hijacked the former chair's office and started using his official stamp for fun.

Citations: Incendia