Frits Vaandrager got his from his grandfather, Jasper Krommendijk had a picture printed on the inside, and Corette Wierenga has yet to buy nice black shoes to go with it. Three professors and their gowns.

Corette Wierenga, Professor Neurobiology: ‘Wearing jeans underneath looks silly’

‘One of the advantages of the gown is that you never have to think about what to wear at a ceremony. When I was an associate professor, I put a lot more energy into figuring out the right outfit. I feel rather easily discouraged when I have to dress for special occasions. When I became a professor two years ago, that problem was solved.

I usually wear something dark underneath it. Jeans just don’t look good. Now all I need is a nicer pair of black shoes. I now wear my gown with the same shoes I wear to concerts. I had a purple inner lining sewn into it because I like the colour purple. When I put on my gown, I immediately get a festive feeling. I am glad that PhD supervisors who are not professors are also allowed to wear gowns these days, because it makes the whole ceremony look much nicer and calmer. It also makes it clearer for the audience.

As far as I am concerned, there is nothing elitist about a gown. It is like the white coat at a doctor’s office or the gown of a lawyer or a minister. It simply shows what your role is. You are a scholar. And at PhD defences, I think it is also a tribute to the person who is defending their PhD. They have given it all they had, and we are all celebrating their success. I sometimes attend PhD defences abroad where no gowns are worn, like in France or in Germany. Then you just step into a regular room… there is nothing festive about it at all.

In the US, the PhD defence is even less impressive; there is no ceremony. I find that disrespectful towards PhD candidates. At my own inaugural lecture in 2023, we took a family picture. My father, Professor Emeritus at Erasmus University, was wearing his own gown. My children wore the children’s gowns that the university has hanging in the auditorium. It was so nice!’

Jasper Krommendijk, Professor of Human Rights: ‘I wear a gown with mixed feelings’

‘It was the first question I got from the gown maker when I was appointed professor last year: what do you want to do with the lining? On his phone, he showed me the various options.

I eventually came up with the idea of having a photograph from 1948 with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights printed on it. Not that famous photograph with Eleanor Roosevelt, but one with a group of children looking at the Declaration.

That photograph is less known. For me, it also symbolises my personal mission to communicate the idea of human rights to a new generation. I also give guest classes in primary schools.

The current political climate only makes that task more pressing. The new government is tampering with the foundations of the rule of law. Their wanton attempts to pass policies that simply cannot be carried out legally puts the rule of law under pressure. You saw this, for example, with their plan to apply state emergency law to asylum policy.

‘Is the gown essential in academia? I wouldn’t go that far’

I have mixed feelings about wearing a gown. On the one hand, I appreciate the tradition. It gives cachet to a PhD defence or inaugural lecture, for example. If you take away all the rites and traditions there, what is left?

On the other hand, it does perpetuate the hierarchy. Sometimes I sit in the corona wondering: Why am I even here? It is only because of my rank. If so, I would rather be in the room with the audience. At least then people won’t notice if you look disinterested or your mind wanders off.

I also wear a gown when I act as deputy judge. For the independent judiciary, a gown is essential. In wearing it, you communicate: I judge objectively, and I judge indiscriminately. In a sense, the professor’s gown has a similar function.

It grants authority – we are not just some random people claiming stuff out of personal conviction. But is it also essential within academia? I wouldn’t want to go that far.’

Frits Vaandrager, Professor of Computing Science: ‘I think of my grandfather when wearing my gown’

‘When I became a professor in 1995, my grandfather gave me a gown as a gift. We had a special bond. My parents were very atechnical. Even hammering a nail into a wall was a challenge. So when Grandpa Arie came to stay, he did all the chores around the house. I used to run after him all the time as a kid and I found it fascinating to see what he could do.

I think I inherited my talent for science from him. We also had many shared interests, such as music. Grandpa came from a working-class family, his father had died young, so he needed to earn money and he went to work as a factory metal worker. If he’d lived today, he would surely have gone to university.

My grandfather thought it was great that I became a professor and he offered to pay for my gown. It makes wearing the gown fun and special – I am proud to be a professor and there is a story behind it.

‘I once wore the gown to a children’s party; I dressed up as a witch.’

I think wearing a gown is a beautiful tradition. But I also find it humbling. The Netherlands is increasingly becoming a class society between people who did and did not study. Radboud University was originally founded on the basis of an emancipation ideal. That challenge is still relevant today, although of course it is no longer just about uplifting the Catholic population, but about other groups that are less represented.

Incidentally, the gown also comes in handy at other times than academic ceremonies, I have noticed. I once wore it at a children’s party for one of my daughters – I went dressed as a witch. And I also wore it for the Sinterklaas celebration at the department, some years back.

In 1996, a year after becoming a professor, I held my inaugural lecture. Already my grandfather couldn’t attend. He was very old by then, although he lived for years afterwards. Every time I put on my gown, I take a moment to think of him.’