Academic robes are a staple insignia of academic hierarchy in the Netherlands, just like in England. In Germany, however, the gown is becoming more popular, after years of absence. What does this say about hierarchy in our neighbouring countries?

In 1967, two students from Hamburg brought about a radical change in Germany’s academic dress code. Just as a group of professors, all dressed in traditional black gowns, exited the auditorium of the University of Hamburg, the students unfurled a banner reading: “Unter den Talaren – Muff von 1000 Jahren,” or ‘Under the gowns – the dust of a thousand years’.

The picture went viral (at least by 1967-standards). The slogan, which rhymes in German, became one of the most recognisable catchphrases of the German student protest movement. It spread like wildfire across the country’s academic councils.

What followed were discussions surrounding academic dress at virtually all German universities. By the end of the 60s, the academic gowns were gone. At least until recently.

In recent years, however, this trend has quietly reversed. In Cologne, for instance, the gown is staging a comeback – more on that later.

Symbolism

If academic gowns are a symbol in Germany, they carry a thousand different meanings, varying greatly depending on whom you ask – and at what point in time. What has remained stable throughout German university history however, is that the gowns tend to come and go. And everyone who has walked the re- or de-gowned halls of its academic institutions seems to have an opinion about them.

‘Having a revival of those gowns nowadays is a bit embarrassing, if you ask me,’ says Hendrik Kempt, sitting in his office at RWTH Aachen University, just across the Dutch border. In Aachen, academic gowns haven’t quite made their comeback yet, and according to Kempt, a postdoc in the Philosophical faculty, that’s a status quo that could remain. ‘I don’t think gowns are inherently problematic, but you have to consider the historical traditions they represent if you choose to bring them back. Those traditions are at least somewhat problematic.’

90s comeback

Like the students of the 1967 movement, Kempt views the academic gown as a symbol of elitism. It also carries connotations of the Third Reich (the “thousand years” in the popular anti-gown slogan was, after all, a comment on the not entirely successful denazification in German higher education following the war). While the history of German academic gowns preceded the Nazis, they were also one of the few things the regime had approved of when it came to the traditionally left-leaning university culture.

After the gowns had eventually fallen victim to the war effort’s fabric collection in Germany. This prompted some protests from professors who were now asked to pay for them. The traditional garments were first reintroduced in the 1950s, only to be abolished again by the end of the 1960s. Since then, German universities have mostly remained gown-free. At least until the 1990s, when the gowns celebrated their comeback at some universities, including the University of Cologne – less than a hundred kilometres away from Aachen.

Americanisation

‘What happened in Cologne was quite surprising’, says Kempt. A left-leaning university in one of the more left-leaning cities in Germany and a return to academic conservatism? What seemed like an unlikely match, appears to be a more nuanced, non conservative development upon closer examination. the dean of the Philosophical faculty wore the gown again in 1997 for the first time since its retirement in the late 60s, he paired it with blue jeans and an open shirt.

‘The gown culture is inspired by American traditions’

According to Kempt, it might not necessarily be the gown that makes the conservatism, but its context: ‘When I earned my doctorate in Aachen, the rector wore a huge golden medallion. Just because there aren’t gowns involved doesn’t mean there aren’t those symbols of hierarchy. In contrast, in the United States, where I was a guest researcher for some time, everyone wears a gown. There, the garment feels far less exclusive than in some other academic cultures.’

The gown culture in Cologne seems, at least in part, to have been inspired by American traditions. There, alumni of all faculties can now pose for graduation pictures with an American-style gown and cap in front of a photo wall. The university provides the gown and cap on loan, and you can book the session online – all free of charge.

Hierarchy

For Kempt’s colleague Camilla Colombo, hierarchy has a clearer connection to academic dress code. ‘I studied in the United Kingdom, a country deeply class-conscious. Which university you attend and who you are is very important there. Formal luncheons and dinners in the UK, especially at Oxford or Cambridge, are another level of formalities’, she explains. ‘I was once invited to a luncheon at the University of Oxford, where you weren’t even welcome without a gown. I had to rent one just for that lunch.’

When she earned her master’s degree at the London School of Economics, Colombo was directed to a specific gown rental shop. ‘There was one shop in Central London with an effective monopoly on gown rentals. They already knew which colour I needed and what size I should wear. In Italy, we don’t have this tradition at all. There, only professors will wear gowns, and only on special occasions. But even then, it’s more like academic dress-up, without any grandeur. It doesn’t mean anything.’

To wear or not to wear

Colombo’s PhD graduation from her London university, by contrast, was entirely informal: ‘I got my graduation certificate in the mail. Sometimes, I regret not going to the formal ceremony. Maybe it was my last occasion to wear a gown, but I simply don’t care for these kinds of rituals.’

However, what it eventually boils down to, according to the researcher, is also a bit of personal preference: ‘’If you enjoy celebrating in a beautiful gown, go for it. But don’t feel guilty if you’d rather skip the cap and tassel altogether.’