Firstly, I am not a prostitute. I say this because I have a very close friend who likes to joke that I am. He’s also been known to wave money in my face and call it “hooker” money because of what I do to supplement my income. Oh, how he laughs when I am faced with another deadline and am starting to feel the pressure.
When I cancel our dates to hang out, he blames it on this single thing I do to ensure my rent is paid and there’s food on my table. Even when I don a new dress and shoes, he looks me up and down, and asks me, “how many people had to lie and cheat” in order for me to look so fabulous.
Getting paid is the most fantastic thing. The money is great, considering how bizarre the work is. Prior to the 10th of every month, a notification arrives on my shiny new iPhone, for which I have just purchased yet another fanciful case, telling me that my money has arrived. The rent gets paid. Sushi is purchased. Cocktails. Dresses. Movie tickets. Uber rides. Shoes. Savings. A trip to Hawaii this Christmas. The work may be unethical, but it allows me to live exactly how I wish to.
“This one particularly well-paid element of my working portfolio is not as glamorous as being an escort, nor is it as dangerous as being a drug dealer (though I think I’d be rather good at both).”
My favorite response to telling someone about this shady aspect of my life was watching their jaw drop. I am not, aesthetically, what you might see for this position. I am little. My long blonde hair falling in ruffled curls to the space below my chest. I wear make up, and dresses, and high heels just to go to the shop. Bright red or pink lipstick is essential for any outing. When I sit next to my good friend with the hooker money, that is exactly what I look like. To the unknowing observer, I am a prostitute or an escort or a Russian-bought wife. As soon as the observer is informed, I am a force to be reckoned with.
This one particularly well-paid element of my working portfolio is not as glamorous as being an escort, nor is it as dangerous as being a drug dealer (though I think I’d be rather good at both). Neither is it as grimy or dirty as many of the most unethical jobs within our species. Despite these facts, my unethical job is still met with one of two responses: disdain or surprise. I truly believe what I do helps others.
Can you guess what I am, yet?
Yeah, I didn’t think so. I’ve been cryptic as shit up until now, but it’s back to fun and sweary Kay!
My Unethical Job is… ghost-writing PhDs.
I can literally feel your blank stare from here. Let me explain to you in the most layman’s way possible, because I am scared I’ll bore you to sleep if I go into any depth.
What is ghost-writing?
Ghost writing is essentially writing a piece of work someone else will claim as their own. For example, most major soccer players, celebrities, and politicians, don’t have the time, or discipline to sit down and write their own autobiography (also, most of them can’t read…), so they’ll hire someone like me to write it for them. I get paid a stupid amount of money, but receive none of the credit.
What do you mean, writing PhDs?
Most of you will know what a PhD is. For those of you who might not, a PhD is the furthest one can go in academia (ie: university). Once completed, a PhD allows the student to become a doctor of their study. My specializations are human sciences, like psychologies, sociologies, etc. At the end of a PhD, most students have fine-toned their area of interest, and have to undertake a load of intensive research. That research then becomes raw data. The data is compared to hundreds of other studies that share similar elements of the subject area. From there, the data is interpreted, compared to other studies, discussed in a world-wide context, and then published as a full document. This is known as a doctoral dissertation.
Summary
When someone undertakes a dissertation, the university expects them to do every single piece of the work themselves. Most PhD students are hired by their university throughout their study, which can take as long as a decade to complete. These people are then, often, hired by the university as a professor, lecturer, an expert in their field. In reality, these people lack the discipline and skills required to write their own final dissertation. They are seen as the paradigm of their subject, and yet they failed to complete the work themselves. This is why it might be seen as unethical.
So why do I do it?
Because it’s awesome. I may be prostituting out my abilities for research, writing, and comprehension, but it’s so satisfying. When I finish a literature review, and send it in to my project manager, I feel a true sense of completion. I have achieved something. From there, I know that at least a portion of my own knowledge and work will help the planet as a whole. Most dissertations are published in academic journals, which means that the work actually goes to help the people it’s intended to. How cool is that?
So, at this point, I should probably be a doctor of science about ten times over. In reality, I’m a badly dressed freelance writer, working from home, with three cats and two dogs. I’ll never be awarded for the work that I have done, but I would quite happily keep doing it forever.
Kay Smythe, The British Bitch in America.
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