The business card
A small rectangle, a very large omission.
At a conference, a stranger hands over a card with a title printed in confident type. For thirty seconds it is useful: now there is a name, a role, a way to continue a conversation. Later, another person says the title sounded important. Yet the card never claimed to describe the person’s patience with an elderly neighbour, their terrible singing voice, their generosity on a difficult Tuesday, or their capacity for mistakes. The rectangle does its limited job and goes quiet.
A title can be a coordination device, not an assertion that professional status is the whole human being.