THE UNIVERSITY OFCHICAGO 9 RECORDFebruary 21 , 1 974 An Official Publication Volume VIII Number 1CONTENTS3 THE 54TH ANNUAL BOARD OF TRUSTEES' DINNER FOR THE FACULTY14 REPORT OF THE REVIEW COMMITTEE OF THE DEPARTMENT OFMEDICINE22 CRIME IN UNIVERSITY COMMUNITIES, THIRD REPORT26 TO THE ENTERING STUDENTS28 OMBUDSMAN APPOINTED FOR 1973-74 TERM29 THE COLLEGE AND THE UNIVERSITY IN A PREFIGURATIVE AGE32 SUMMARY OF THE 345TH CONVOCATION32 THE COLLEGE: CONTINUITY AND CONFUSION35 KNOWING IN CEREMONY39 SUMMARY OF THE 346TH CONVOCATION39 RITES OF PASSAGE41 SUMMARY OF THE 347TH CONVOCATIONTHE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOFOUNDED BY JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER© 191 A by The University of Chicago. All rights reserved.THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO RECORDTHE 54th ANNUALBOARD OF TRUSTEES' DINNER FOR THE FACULTYRemarks by MILTON FRIEDMANJanuary 9, 1974To economists the world over, "Chicago" designatesnot a city, not even a University, but a " school.' ' Theterm is used sometimes as an epithet, sometimes asan accolade, but always with a fairly definite —though by no means single-valued — meaning. Indiscussions of economic policy, "Chicago" standsfor belief in the efficacy of the free market as ameans of organizing resources, for scepticism 'aboutgovernment intervention into economic affairs, andfor emphasis on the quantity of money as a key factor in producing inflation. In discussions of economic science, "Chicago" stands for an approachthat takes seriously the use of economic theory as atool for analyzing a startlingly wide range of concrete problems, rather than as an abstract mathematical structure of great beauty but little power;for an approach that insists on the empirical testingof theoretical generalizations and that rejects alikefacts without theory and theory without facts.These denotations of the Chicago school of economics are of long standing. They have prevailed fordecades, with only minor though not negligiblechanges in meaning despite a complete change inthe persons regarded as the "leaders" of the school.My personal experience with the Chicago school ofeconomics began more than 40 years ago, as a graduate student, when Frank Knight, Jacob Viner, andHenry Simons were the acknowledged leaders of theChicago school. Today, the Chicago school has aneven broader base than it did then, numberingamong its leaders not only some of us at the University but also economists at other institutions, someof whom have never been formally connected withthe University. But all are students — direct or indirect — of Knight, Viner, and Simons, and, at a stilllonger remove, of Adam Smith — who but for theaccident of having been born in the wrong centuryand the wrong country would undoubtedly have been a Distinguished Service Professor at The University of Chicago.The mixture of irritation and pleasure that I haveexperienced at being alternately damned andapplauded — and always, as I felt, misunderstood —as a member of the Chicago school has led me to become something of a collector of intellectual schools.One impression that I have formed from my casualcollection is that The University of Chicago is a particularly fertile breeding ground for "schools" —though it clearly has no monopoly.Already in 1903, William James greeted a book byJohn Dewey and several of his associates, Studies inLogical Theory, as "the signal of the birth of a'Chicago school' of pragmatic philosophy."1 Unfortunately, Dewey resigned his professorship atChicago shortly thereafter, so that this Chicagoschool may not have had a long life.In sociology, Albion Small — the initial head of theDepartment— laid the basis for the famous Chicagoschool of sociology led by W.I. Thomas, RobertPark, and Ernest Burgess — a school that reignedfrom 1920 to perhaps 1950. Morris Janowitzdescribes the central thrust of the Chicago school ofsociology as consisting of emphasis "on empiricaldata and the need for integrating data into whatthey believed to be an appropriate theoretical framework"2 — a description that applies equally to oneaspect of the Chicago school of economics.In political science, "the Chicago school ... ledby Charles E. Merriam and . . . Harold D. Lass-well," has been described as "diverse in its interestsbut united in its aim to explore new methods of1. International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Vol.4, p. 155.2. Foreword to Robert E. L. Faris, Chicago Sociology,1920-1932 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970).3studying political and administrative behavior"3 —again a description that could apply to economicsand sociology.Chicago pioneered in the social sciences and fostered active cooperation among them — most concretely by constructing a single social sciencebuilding to house them all, so it is perhaps not surprising that "schools" should have flourished in thesocial sciences and should have had much in common. Witness the quotation from Lord Kelvincarved in stone on the Social Science Building:"When you cannot measure, your knowledge ismeagre and unsatisfactory" — a quotation whichFrank Knight one day contemplated at length andthen muttered: "And if you cannot measure it,measure it anyhow."However, schools have flourished at Chicago notonly in the social sciences, but elsewhere as well.In English, a Chicago school of criticism was initiated and led by Ronald Crane. In theology, thelarger part of a history of The University of ChicagoDivinity School by Charles H. Arnold is devoted totracing the 60-year history of the "Chicago School ofTheology." Members of this audience can, I amsure, add to that list, and I shall appreciate it verymuch if they do. Indeed, one reason I chose thistopic for tonight's talk is in order to add to mycollection in the most painless and efficient way.There are, of course, Cambridge schools and Oxford schools and Viennese schools and Harvardschools and I have made no exhaustive survey ofthem all. So I cannot claim to have demonstratedthat Chicago is exceptionally fertile as a producer of"schools." But I shall assume for the present thatmy impression to that effect is correct and turn tothe main question I want to discuss: Why? Whathas there been about The University of Chicago thathas given rise to schools?When I asked one friend this question, his offhand remark was that perhaps Chicago's geographical isolation had led people at Chicago to becomeinbred and to develop homogeneous, if offbeat,views.This answer, while a very natural one, misconceives the nature of schools and is besides demonstrably wrong as a description of fact. A "school"may be, but need not be, a "cult." None of the socialscience schools I have mentioned was a "cult." Allof them were rather pioneer attempts to open upnew directions of research and analysis, new ways oflooking at phenomena. All of them numberedamong their members persons working on a widevariety of topics and holding diverse views. All of3. International Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences, Vol.8, p. 366. them affected the course of scientific research intheir disciplines and have been in considerablemeasure absorbed in those disciplines. Rather thanbeing "crank" outsiders, their leaders were recognized and honored by their professional brethren,serving as presidents of their professional associations and editors of professional journals.But while a "school" need not be a "cult,"neither, to go to the other extreme, is it simply adesignation of excellence. To take another examplefrom the social sciences, anthropology has alwaysbeen an excellent department at Chicago, widelyrecognized as one of the best in the world. It has hadmany outstanding and famous members, yetapparently there has never been a Chicago school ofanthropology, in the sense of a distinctive approachpursued by a number of leading scholars and propagated by their students;If Chicago's geographical location had an effect —as I shall argue later that it did — it was not by encouraging narrowness, homogeneity, and inbreeding. The fact is that none of the departments everconsisted primarily of members of the corresponding schools. In his discussion of the Chicago schoolof sociology, Morris Janowitz notes that "AlbionSmall . . . was eclectic in his interests and tastes,"and that "there was a continual effort to have allaspects of sociology actively represented." RobertE.L. Faris, in his book on Chicago Sociology, statesthat "probably the most important factor in thegrowth at Chicago was the intelligent perception bySmall, accepted enthusiastically by his colleaguesand successors, of the inhibiting consequences ofdoctrines, schools of thought, and authoritativeleaders. . . . This openness to influences from othertraditions was also reflected in the decision to bringOgburn to Chicago from Columbia, thus enrichingthe local sociological content with the research-method emphasis that had been developing atColumbia. In that period [1920s and 1930s] noChicago-trained sociologist was brought into thedepartment at Columbia or Yale. Brown firstappointed a very young instructor from Chicago... in 1931 .... Mid-century approached beforeHarvard ventured to bring in a representative of theChicago sociology" — and I may add that Harvardhas still not ventured to bring in a full-fledged representative of the Chicago school of economics,though it has, in recent years, hired a number ofChicago Ph.D.s.4In political science, every biographical referenceto Charles E. Merriam that I have seen has stressed -his eclecticism, his tolerance of diversity, his concernsolely for quality. And a political science depart-4. Quotations from Faris, op. cit., pp. ix, 128, 130.4ment that in our days has simultaneously includedHans Morgenthau, David Easton, and Leo Straussamong its leading members can hardly be describedas narrow and inbred.In economics — where I am personally most awareof the charge of narrowness and parochialism — thesituation is similar. The first head of the Department of Economics was James Laurence Laughlin —whose portrait hangs in Social Sciences 122 and whowas characterized by a historian of the Chicagoschool of economics as "one of the most conservativeeconomists in the country."5 Laughlin was a leading"hard- money" man of his time, vigorously opposingthe free-silver movement that reached its climax withWilliam Jennings Bryan's famous "Cross of Gold"speech in 1896. (Incidentally, to display one of myfew bits of local lore, that speech was given, andBryan subsequently nominated for the Presidency,in the neighborhood of The University of Chicago,roughly at what later became known as "sin corner"— 63rd and Cottage Grove. In 1896, there were openfields there, and the El provided convenient transportation, so the Democratic National Conventionwas held in large tents pitched for the purpose.) Toreturn to Laughlin, he publicly debated in Chicagowith William H. Harvey, whose pamphlet entitled"Coin's Financial School" provided the most influential intellectual justification for the free-silvermovement.In these ways, Laughlin would be regarded bymany as sharing some of the characteristics of thepresent Chicago school, though I hasten to add thatin other respects, he differed drastically. In particular, he was a firm opponent of the quantity theory ofmoney — largely because it had been used by thefree-silver advocates to justify their proposals — andas long ago as 1910, he analyzed inflation as arisingfrom the monopolistic practices of trade unions andlarge enterprises rather than from increases in thequantity of money — a decidedly non-Chicago position.Despite his own strong views and active participation in political controversy, Laughlin sought outquality and diversity in the men he appointed to thefaculty. As A.W. Coats remarks: "Laughlin was, indeed, a rigid thinker, an uncompromising andsometimes unfair polemicist, and an extreme conservative. Nevertheless, during his 24 years atChicago his department became a leading centerand breeding ground of economic heterodoxy. . . .Laughlin was an unrelenting individualist whogenuinely respected the independence of his col-5. A. W. Coats, "The Origins of the 'Chicago School(s)'?"Journal of Political Economy, Vol. LXXI (October 1963),pp. 487-493; quotation from p. 489. leagues, and he was as outspoken in his resistance toHarper's encroachments upon his departmental independence as he was toward the encroachments ofgovernment upon individual freedom."6At the very outset, Laughlin brought with himfrom Cornell to The University of Chicago ThorsteinVeblen, whom Laughlin liked "precisely becauseVeblen was different in his background, in his pointof view, and even in his personal characteristics."Veblen served as the first managing editor of theJournal of Political Economy and remained on thefaculty until 1906, even though "Laughlin on occasion had difficulty in getting Veblen' s contractrenewed and in securing advances for him."7 Similarly, one of the students of Robert Hoxie, whojoined the faculty in 1906, wrote: "generally speaking, Hoxie and Laughlin were as far apart as Westand East, but it speaks worlds for Laughlin' s tolerance that he brought Hoxie to, and kept him in hisDepartment."8 Laughlin appointed such diversepersons as Wesley C. Mitchell, Alvin Johnson, Walton Hamilton, and John Maurice Clark — all moreover not after they had become famous but whenthey were in the early stages of their careers. Scientific excellence, not conformity, was clearly hismajor criterion. Of course, we have never been ableto monopolize excellence — each of these fourfamous scholars served most of their careers at otherinstitutions.Laughlin' s example has been followed to this day.When I was a student at Chicago, Paul Douglas,hardly a full-fledged member of the Chicago schoolin the policy sense, was a leading member of the department. The disputes between Douglas andKnight and between Knight and Viner formed animportant part of our education. The departmentincluded also Harry Alvin Millis, Simeon Leland,and John U. Nef, to mention only some of the outstanding non-Chicago Chicagoans. Subsequently,the department appointed Oskar Lange, a proclaimed Socialist, later Poland's representative tothe U.N., and still later a member of Poland'sCommunist government — but also an outstandingeconomic scholar.In 1964, during the Johnson-Goldwater presidential elections, my friend and colleague GeorgeStigler remarked that Chicago was one of the fewmajor universities, if not the only one, that withoutdifficulty could staff a highly qualified Council ofEconomic Advisers for both Johnson and Gold-6. Ibid., p. 491.7, Alfred Bornemann, /. Laurence Laughlin (Washington:American Council on Foreign Affairs, 1940), p. 28.8. Ibid., p. 29.5water. Many another university could have staffed(and did) a Johnson Council. Two or three otherscould have staffed a Goldwater Council. But onlyChicago — and less easily, Columbia — could readilyhave staffed both.To cite one other statistic. The American Economic Association awards a John Bates Clark medalevery second year to the economist under 40 "adjudged to have made a significant contribution toeconomic thought and knowledge." Since itsinception, 13 medals have been awarded. Nine of the13 recipients were either teaching at Chicago whenthey received the award, or had taught at Chicagobefore receiving the award. Of the remaining four,two had studied at Chicago, and the remaining twohad received offers from Chicago.Clearly, Chicago has not been an enclave outsidethe professional mainstream. On the contrary, Ibelieve that no other major university has consistently had so wide a spectrum of views representedon its economic faculty as has Chicago. Chicago isnoted for free market and anti-Keynesian views, notbecause they are the only ones represented atChicago, but because Chicago is one of the fewuniversities at which they are strongly and effectivelyrepresented, albeit, even here, by only a minority ofthe Department.Not isolation and uniformity, but tolerance fordiversity, stress on scientific quality as the decisivecriterion for appointments, and success in identifying and attracting future leaders of theirprofession — these are the sources of the Chicagoproclivity to generate "schools." But what in turnaccounts for these characteristics? This is a topic fora specialist in the sociology of knowledge, not for amere economist. Yet perhaps my personal involvement will excuse my presumption in venturing tosuggest a possible answer.Part of the explanation for Chicago's proclivity togenerate schools was suggested to me by EdwardShils — who is a specialist in the sociology of knowledge. The University of Chicago, he pointed out, wasthe first major university, with the possibleexception of Johns Hopkins, that was not established primarily as either a finishing school for thechildren of the upper classes, or as a seminary fortraining clerics. From the very beginning, Chicagowas established as a center of learning, devoted toadvancing and transmitting knowledge. Harper'svision led to the assembling at The University ofChicago of an exceptionally able and dedicatedfaculty — and for our purposes, the critical feature isthat they were dedicated not to training gentlemenfor gentlemanly pursuits, not to spreading particular religious or ethical or social doctrines, but to theobjective pursuit of knowledge — to science in the broadest sense. It is crucial also that Harper chosethem not only for their ability but also for their personal force and demonstrated executive ability.The group of extraordinarily able men couldwrite on a tabula rasa. There was no deadwood to beeliminated, no vested interests to be rooted out, intellectual or personal. The result was to establishfrom the outset a tradition of which we all remainthe beneficiaries, these eight decades later, a tradition of objective scholarship for its own sake, ofstress on the intellectual quality of people, with littleregard for their personal idiosyncracies or politicalviews, and above all, of tolerance and respect fordiversity.To complete Shils' explanation, I believe that thistradition was able to flourish and to be successful atThe University of Chicago largely because of ourgeographic location. Had the University been established in or near New York City under precisely thesame auspices and the same initial personnel, Ibelieve that the results would have been very different.I have been led to this view largely by personalexperience. In 1964 — to the disgust and dismay ofmost of my academic friends — I served as aneconomic adviser to Barry Goldwater during hisquest for the Presidency. That year also, I was aVisiting Professor at Columbia University. The twotogether gave me a rare entree into the New Yorkintellectual community. I talked to and argued withgroups from academia, from the media, from thefinancial community, from the foundation world,from you name it. I was appalled at what I found.There was an unbelievable degree of intellectualhomogeneity, of acceptance of a standard set ofviews complete with cliche answers to every objection, of smug self-satisfaction at belonging to anin-group. The closest similar experience I have everhad was at Cambridge, England, and even that wasa distant second.The homogeneity and provincialism of the NewYork intellectual community made them pushoversin discussions about Goldwater' s views. They hadcliche answers but only to their self- created straw-men. To exaggerate only slightly, they had nevertalked to anyone who really believed, and hadthought deeply about, views drastically differentfrom their own. As a result, when they heard realarguments instead of caricatures, they had noanswers, only amazement that such views could beexpressed by someone who had the externalcharacteristics of being a member of the intellectualcommunity, and that such views could be defendedwith apparent cogency. Never have I been more impressed with the advice I once received: "Youcannot be sure that you are right unless you under-6stand the arguments against your views better thanyour opponents do."To come back to our present topic, this kind ofintellectual homogeneity is destructive of tolerance.It is no accident that in the New York — or moregenerally, the Eastern — environment, divergentviews take the form of cults not schools. One of thegreat economists of all time, Ludwig von Mises, whorecently died at an advanced age, was barely tolerated for years in a peripheral academic position atNew York University. He was never accepted asbeing in the intellectual mainstream, even though hehad a far greater influence than all but a handful ofthe more prestigious professors of economics atColumbia, Yale, Princeton, or Harvard. Mises haddisciples but few students because of the overpowering and stultifying intellectual atmosphere of NewYork.The great good fortune of our University was thatit was not established on the East Coast. If it hadbeen, it would very likely have become like all theother Eastern universities. May Johns Hopkins notbe a case in point? A university that was unable toachieve its initial promise except in the area ofmedicine.Fortunately, we were established in Chicago, anew, raw city, bursting with energy, far less sophisticated than New York, but for that very reason farmore tolerant of diversity, of heterodox ideas. NewYork looked East, to the Old World. It sought aboveall to be recognized by that world and thereforeimitated it and was hostile to any influences thatmight cause the Old World to look down its nose atthe New.Chicago, like other cities this side of the Appalachians, looked West, to the frontiers — thoughneedless to say it had its share of mindless fawningon Europe, as witness Colonel McCormick's love-hate affair with England. But this did not preventChicago from being characterized by diversity inevery dimension, by a willingness to experiment, tojudge'people by their performance rather than theirorigins, to judge ideas by their consequences rather than their antecedents.To return to my personal experience. I could holdthe views I did at Chicago, and even be an adviser toGoldwater, without losing the respect of either townor gown, but rather while still being accepted as aresponsible member in good standing of the intellectual community. Had my career been in NewYork, and had I held the same views, I suspect thatthat would not have been possible. I would havebeen regarded as a "kook" and no doubt wouldhave begun to act like one even earlier than I did.If this amateur exercise in the sociology of knowledge has any validity, it has important implicationsfor our University. First and foremost, if we are topreserve our heritage, we must continue to insistthat intellectual quality and intellectual qualityalone be the basis of appointments to the faculty —not political or social views, not personal attractiveness or sex or race, not grantsmanship, not evenpotential contribution to a balanced faculty.Balance and diversity have been and will continue tobe valuable by-products of an undeviating emphasison quality alone. They are not objectives to besought directly.Second, as we face severe financial pressure in thecoming years, it is well to recall that the schools thatdeveloped at Chicago owed far more to a handful ofgeniuses than to the lavish expenditure of funds.The availability of funds certainly helped. But farmore crucial was the success of the faculty in seeking out the young scholars who had within them thecapacity to strike out in new directions and the willingness of the administration to back the faculty'sjudgment. These remain the key to success in surmounting our present problems. And identificationof potential geniuses remains the one element thatonly the faculty can provide. Trustees, alumni, andother friends of the University can prepare the seedbed for excellence; only we can furnish the seeds.Milton Friedman is the Paul Snowden Russell Distinguished Service Professor of Economics.1THE 54th ANNUAL BOARD OF TRUSTEES'DINNER FOR THE FACULTYRemarks by BEN W. HEINEMANJanuary 9, 1974This annual dinner is a source of great joy to all ofthe Trustees, both as a small indication of the highregard in which the faculty is held, and for the enjoyment of seeing you, whom we do not see oftenenough. It is much anticipated by the Trustees as anopportunity for renewing old friendships and making young ones.Tonight, I would like to talk about some trends inhigher education, their possible effects on an eliteuniversity, and the role of the Trustee in all of this.If this seems like asking you to eat a seven coursedinner, to be followed immediately by two others,have no fear. I may oversimplify, but I will not overstay.In examining some of these trends, I would startwith the trend toward a new set of social prioritiesfrom those of the sixties. I think most observerswould agree that higher education has dropped to amuch lower position than it then held. Health careand environment, to name but two, are being givenfar higher relative priorities. This conclusion is, Ithink, inevitable from an examination of state andfederal budgets.In addition, it seems clear that the federal government's policy is to reduce dollars for categoricalprograms which aid institutions, and particularlyresearch programs, and to give financial support tostudents who may then attend institutions of theirchoice. Thus, students will receive aid even if theyattend proprietary, technical, or trade schools.I make no detailed reference to revenue sharing,which seems to me to reinforce this general trend.The impact of severe social changes on the highereducation attendance rates is clearly shown by anumber of demographic indicators that are the dailygrist of every marketing man.The proportion of all males 18 to 19 years of agewho are in college has dropped to the level it was in1962, down to 37.6 percent from its 1969 high of 44percent. This trend is only partly due to the endingof the draft, since it started at least two years earlier.The nation's birthrate is at its lowest point in history. It is presently at or slightly below zero growth.The number of 5-year-olds dropped 15 percentbetween 1960 and 1970. These are of course thecollege freshmen of 1982 and beyond. The Census Bureau estimates a sharp drop in the absolutenumber of college-age youth after 1982, approaching the upward trend in the 1960s.These factors, among others, strongly suggest aninstitutional competition in the years ahead forstudents at the collegiate level, unknown up to thepresent time. One observer has described the forthcoming competition as "rapacious." It also suggeststhe possibility of both public and private collegiateinstitutions closing their doors in fairly significantnumbers. Others will be significantly reduced insize.Another major trend of importance is an increasing tendency for those who desire skill or careertraining to attend proprietary and industrial schoolsrather than traditional colleges or universities. IBM,General Electric, and other corporations now offerbachelor's degrees, and Arthur D. Little, a well-known management consulting firm, has just beenauthorized by Massachusetts to offer a master'sdegree in management. While data is scarce, theredoes seem to be a definite shift toward occupationaland career training and away from liberaleducation.There is a clear surplus in present doctorates,particularly in the humanities. There are manypossible conclusions to be drawn from this andadditional demographic data. Not all are consistent,nor would many of us think that these trends arenecessarily in the best interests of a democraticsociety that increasingly depends upon an informedand educated citizenry.Are there any implications from all of this for thefuture of the elite universities of the United States?First, how might we describe an elite university?It is, of course, one that attracts a student body ofexceptional capacity. It is necessary to give thesestudents a high quality education, not only for thedevelopment of science and technology, but also forthe attainment of a more humane, just and civilizedsociety.A British scholar recently wrote: "All civilizedcountries . . . depend upon a thin, clear stream ofexcellence to provide new ideas, new techniques,and the statesmanlike treatment of complex socialand political problems." In a later paper he saidthat the education of the innovators in intellectual8life, and the pace setters in cultural and moral standards, requires "sustained dialectic with a masterwhose own intellectual and cultural achievementsare distinguished."The elite university is therefore an intellectualcommunity; it is intellectual in its orientation, withone of its major purposes being to carry thought"from the uncritical acceptance of orthodoxy tocreative dissent over the values and standards ofsociety." Necessarily such an institution will beheavily engaged in research and will have a highproportion of doctoral students.I have already commented on some of the factorsof social change that are becoming visible on theeducational horizon. It is easy to think that thesefactors are temporary; that changes in administrations will reverse these factors; that in any eventtheir impact will be on the lesser colleges and theuniversities, not on the superior ones. There is, Ithink, no way that an elite university can insulateitself from the basic changes of its society. Or perhaps I should say that to preserve its basic valuesintact will require adaptations, reordering of priorities, and some sacrifice of what has been traditionalbut may be unessential. Even this will requiremaximum commitment by the entire universitycommunity, including the Trustees. For one mustaccept the fact that despite its apparent durability agreat university is a fragile organization. If researchand students are at the heart of an elite university,we must recognize an inevitable failure of publicunderstanding about the vital nature of fundamental research.And where there is lack of understanding inperiods of financial stringency, there is lack ofsupport.And this brings me to the role of the Trustees.A few weeks ago, I was lunching in New York withan old friend who is presently the President of anacademic institution. He told me that he hadrecently attended a dinner at an eastern collegehonoring a distinguished member of the facultyupon his retirement. The Chairman of the college'sBoard of Trustees was the principal speaker.Naturally he extolled the honored guest and thefaculty as well. His praise of both was extensive andno doubt well deserved.When the distinguished guest of honor rose torespond, he said that both individually and onbehalf of the faculty he was grateful for all thosekinjd words, But, he said, he really didn't know whatall the fuss was about. "After all," he continued,"both the faculty and I are paid to be good, whereasthe Trustees are good for nothing."I would like to think, and I certainly hope thatyou will think, that the Trustees are, in fact, good for nothing; nothing, that is, in the way of pay,although we are all well paid by our pride in yourmany accomplishments and in those of the University.But what is the role of the Trustees? What arethey good for? What is the myth and what thereality? My list of major responsibilities is a shortone. They are five in number, and general in content. Here they are.The first, the primary, and the most vital responsibility of the Trustees, to which there is no closesecond, is the periodic selection of the President ofthe University. This is scarcely a full-time occupation, since in the last 45 years there have been butfour Presidents or Chancellors, call them what wemay. Although the search committee is joint withthe faculty, the responsibility is inescapably that ofthe Trustees. How wisely and how well that responsibility is periodically discharged will determinemore than any one thing the fate of the University.And while this is true for any university, it is mosttrue for the elite private university.The second most essential duty of the Trustees,once having selected the President wisely and well, isto support him internally, and through him the University community for whose needs and aspirationshe speaks. This is a continuing responsibility.Without this support, the best of Presidents will fail,and when he fails, the University fails. Even withthis support in times of great change there is noassurance that he will succeed.On my list, the third duty and responsibility is toprotect the University and the basic rights of itsfaculty and students to think and speak freely,against attack from the external world, regardless ofthe individual Trustee's personal views about whatis thought or spoken. Fortunately the exercise of thisresponsibility is seldom called for, particularly byTrustees of a private, as distinguished from a state,university. But the possibility is always there. It hasalways been a source of pride and strength of thisUniversity that an earlier generation of Trusteesrose magnificently to that challenge in the 1930s,1940s, and 1950s.Since the Board of Trustees is self-perpetuating, afourth major responsibility is the selection ofyounger or newer Trustees who understand or arewilling to learn the traditions of a great university,and who are prepared to carry them on.And finally, there is money. While money will notnecessarily make a university great, lack of necessary money may reduce the stature of one that,through leadership, research, and scholarship, hasbecome great. There is no doubt that while theUniversity requires the assistance of every elementof its various constituencies, the Trustees have the9ultimate responsibility for authorizing and spearheading the efforts to obtain the funds necessary toretain and obtain faculty of its traditional quality,and provide the services, amenities, and facilitiesessential to the life of a great and internationaluniversity.Though I have placed seeing to the provision offunds last among a Trustee's primary duties, it isnot because the university can survive without it as amajor center for teaching and research, not becauseit is not essential to the task, but because, withoutthe full and effective discharge of the other dutiesthat I have listed, there is little hope for the successful discharge of the last.These are my views of the principal responsibili-Remarks by EDWARD H. LEVIJanuary 9, 1974Beginning with the 1969 Trustees' Dinner, I havecommitted five talks upon these occasions. Someaspects of these talks are notations upon the intervening period.The talk given early in January, the academic year1968-69, acknowledged the achievement of the firststage of the capital drive. That first stage, begun in1965, reached the goal of $160 million in 1968. Istated it was a measure of our appreciation, as wellas our necessity and trust, that we had already spenta good deal of the money.A considerable portion of the funds had been setaside to support the ongoing budget of the University. They were being used up. The fruits of the drivehad brought or were bringing us the restoration ofCobb Hall, the Joseph Regenstein Library, theAlbert Pick Hall for International Studies, theCochrane-Woods Art Center with the David andAlfred Smart Gallery, and, although we did notknow it then, the Cummings Life Science Center.Some substantial endowment had been obtained.The success of that first stage campaign had to beseen in the context of a long march, begun in 1954,to restore the academic quality of the University fol- ties of the Trustees. I admit to some degree ofpessimism. I see decided trends toward an egali-tarianism in higher education that I view as essentially opposed to the needs of society for eliteinstitutions. I see inadequate research funds tospread excellence over the number of universitiesthat have been the traditional centers with a resultant increase in depressing mediocrity. But I have nodoubt that if the Trustees of The University ofChicago are as good for nothing, as this faculty is forpay, the future and the quality of this University aresecure.Ben W. Heineman is president of Northwest Industries, Inc., Chicago.lowing a period of severe retrenchment. The question was the survival in strength and independenceof a major private University. Now, I said, "underPresident Beadle the University had come to asgreat an academic strength as it has ever had. Because of this very strength, the present years arecrucial. We are accustomed to crucial years." Imeant we should protect, develop, and build uponthis academic quality. I believe we have. But withrespect to material resources I knew also we hadonly reached an intermediate level with a moregigantic effort still ahead of us. In order to sustainthe forward momentum of the University, and to acquire the supporting endowment to maintain it, wewould have to commence the second and largerstage of the capital fund-raising drive. This was allin the plan. Because it was in the plan, I knew oneday we would have to go again through that periodof doubt which precedes all such enormous undertakings until energy is renewed and commitmentwas again organized. That was the way it was in1954 with the drive under the leadership of EdwardRyerson and Glen Lloyd. That was the way it was in1965 under the leadership of Glen Lloyd, FairfaxCone, and Gaylord Donnelley. Professional fund-THE 54th ANNUALBOARD OF TRUSTEES' DINNER FOR THE FACULTY10raisers consulted before the inception of the 1965drive had taken a dim view of that venture. Perhapsthey thought, as has often been said, that too manyof our alumni — more than one third — were scholarsand teachers. But the first stage campaign hadreached its goal. Our gratitude was deep for thosewho produced this result. We stood in awe, I said, oftheir own generosity, their ingenuity and persuasiveness, their selflessness and vision.But in my talk I did not emphasize the futureproblems of money raising. Etiquette was againstthis. Further, I was intent upon carrying forward aconception of the University which I thought wasour strength. My effort was to set a background fora renewed shared inquiry into the problems and directions of the University. I mentioned that theelected student councils might be of help in such areview. Later the Educational Review Commission,the Economic Study Commission, the interdisciplinary faculty essay committees undertook this sharedreview.The 1969 Trustees' Dinner was cheerfully followed in about a week by a manifestation of whatwas generally known as student unrest.Thinking of the cycle of apparent new events andnew awareness, in 1970 I found comfort in recitingfrom Gertrude Stein's lectures at the University.Miss Stein began her lectures with the thought thatsuch periods of awareness, and perhaps of crisis,came in one-hundred year intervals. So the CivilWar came about one hundred years after the movement which led to the War of Independence, and Inoted 1970 was about one hundred years after theconclusion of the Civil War. I questioned theuniqueness of our time, pointing out that there wasa striking resemblance between the rebellion andromanticism in manners and feelings of some of ouryouth movements and those of the stormers andstrivers in eighteenth-century Germany. I remarkedupon the possible consequence of bringing a lawsuitin fourteenth-century England where an old reportrecorded that 200 armed men retaliated against thelawsuit by breaking into the establishment of theplaintiff at midnight, dragging the bailiff of themanor "out of his bed naked." I recalled thatSamuel Johnson, in writing about London, poeticized: "Prepare for death, if here at night you roam,and sign your will before you sup from home." Thethen recent Democratic convention caused me toremember nineteenth-century England's "massacre" of Peterloo. Arthur Mann later told meGertrude Stein was wrong in her theory of hundred-year cycles, and Jimmy Cate said I should stay awayfrom fourteenth-century documents which I didn'tunderstand.But we did think we had a new period and a new awareness. Even though, I thought, only ignorancecan make a century an entirely new thing, oursociety was in grave danger. It was torn with factionalism, a sense of unfairness and questions ofeffective social justice. I suppose the implicit question was whether a contribution to the solution ofthese issues still could be made through learningand discovery. In view of what I thought was thegrowing acceptance of destructive ideas about education, I mentioned that this University in the pasthad valued its independence more than its popularity. It had achieved more of one than of the other. Ithad dared to have its contributions be countercyclical.Nineteen seventy- one came and with it the policyof careful budget constraints or no growth. Naturally that year I began with the statement that theexperiment of the (Rockefeller) Chapel with voluntary attendance had been tried. I was sure its successhad not been great. I understand that when I didthis Robert Ingersoll was heard to ask: "What in theworld has gotten him off on this kick?" I went on todiscuss problems of student dishonesty, nutritiousfood, and impure women. Then I announced it wasmy duty, although not a pleasant one, to state thefact that the budget for the coming year wouldpermit few, if any, promotions, and that there mustbe cases of merit where, because of the budget situation, promotion would not be possible. The University needed large additions to its funds, buildings,books, and apparatus, and most of all it neededadditional endowments. I said I knew there weremen in the City of Chicago who are today contemplating large and magnificent gifts to the University.I asked if I might plead with them not to postponethe time of their giving. All of these remarks, withthe exception of the word "Rockefeller" before"Chapel" were quotations from Harper. They camefrom the period in the wake of the financial panic of1893 and the depression of 1897. Yet those weretimes when the University made enormous strides inits quality.Chancellor Kimpton, in 1954, remarked he recognized it had been an old pattern at the University forone administration to expand and the next toretrench. He had principally in mind, I surmise, thelong period of what was called consolidation afterthe death of Harper. No doubt he also had in mindthe seminality of the Hutchins era. The Universityhad been over-extended under Harper. But its creation depended upon acts of faith. In no other waycould this heartland have been given the not doubtful glory of an institution which approached the goalof "the greatest seat of learning in the modernworld." I have often wondered whether the laterconsolidation period has not been unfairly treated11by the University historians. In many ways it carriedout the Harper mandate. If academic rankingmeans anything — and it should not be overemphasized — at the end of that period the University wasstill first among all the graduate universities in theUnited States. Nevertheless, I suppose the devastating criticism which can be made of this Universityduring the last portion of the first quarter of thiscentury is that in tailoring the academic programs tomeet the financial resources, it also substituted thecomfort of a temporary financial stability for theanxiety and concern which should have been moregreatly shared among faculty, Trustees, andfriends — all of which are necessary ingredients for afoundation for the future.In 1972, 1 confessed to the visions I had been having of a figure I believed to be St. Simeon Styliteswho, as you know, had climbed on a pedestal 60 feethigh and spent the last 30 years of his life there,casting himself on his knees in prayers in an endlessseries of rhythmic movements while, nevertheless,preaching sermons, performing miracles, and engaging in politics. Above him and below werecrowds and queer shapes and bands of people instrange garb, or no garb, robbing and stealing andoccasionally burning each other up. I will notimpose the apocalyptic vision upon you again. Ofcourse I was thinking of the individual scholar andof the University in the trouble of our times,necessarily deeply concerned with the fate of mankind, caught between the spring and the downfall,yet attempting to make our contributions in certainprescribed ways. The University's contribution wasto be made through the advancement of knowledgeand understanding. In that climate, this seemed astrange fixation. We were witnessing — we stillare — corrosive movements careless about our cultural heritage, which always needs to be rediscovered, and careless about the intellectual disciplines. In the name of diversity, these movementstreated universities as fungible. They down-gradedthe best. They were doubtful about excellence. Attimes they regard the pursuit of learning either assolely an economic enterprise or, as I said last year,in discussing one such attack, as ventures in therapeutic busyness or in existential pain or pleasure. Ofcourse education must always change; it is part ofthe process itself. But the proposals for reform madeit easier to have none.As I think of many of these proposals for reform, Ithink now, as I did in 1972, of the oddity that theprotagonists often offer as solutions the very practices which they condemn. If the trouble is thatclasses are too large and impersonal, then have largeclasses and teaching devices. If the difficulty is thatprofessors only have an allegiance to their discipline, and feel no special responsibility to make a university, then viewing the educational enterprises as onesystem, why not shuffle the professors aroundamong many institutions so that the attachment toany particular one is unimportant? If the complaintis that professors don't teach enough, then useteaching assistants. One is led to remember JamesThurber's story of "The Bear Who Let It Alone.""In the woods of the Far West there once lived abrown bear who could take it or let it alone. Hewould go into a bar where they sold mead, a fermented drink made of honey, and he would havejust two drinks. Then he would put some money onthe bar and say, 'See what the bears in the backroom will have,' and he would go home. But finallyhe took to drinking by himself most of the day. Hewould reel home at night, kick over the umbrellastand, knock down the bridge lamps, and ram hiselbows through the windows. Then he wouldcollapse on the floor and lie there until he went tosleep. His wife was greatly distressed and his children were very frightened."At length the bear saw the error of his ways andbegan to reform. In the end he became a famous teetotaller and a persistent temperance lecturer. Hewould tell everybody that came to his house aboutthe awful effects of drink, and he would boast abouthow strong and well he had become since he gave uptouching the stuff. To demonstrate this, he wouldstand on his head and on his hands and he wouldturn cartwheels in the house, kicking over the umbrella stand, knocking down the bridge lamps, andramming his elbows through the windows. Then hewould lie down on the floor, tired by his healthfulexercise, and go to sleep. His wife was greatly distressed and his children were very frightened."Today we are in the midst of a veritable blizzardof advice which, apparently, is going to increase.Whitehead, in 1927, speaking to the AmericanAssociation of the Collegiate Schools of Business,took occasion to warn that "universities cannot bedealt with according to the rules and policies whichapply to the familiar business corporation." I thinkthe modern counterpart to this advice is somewhatdifferent. A university, like a business corporation,cannot be well run according to the rules andpolicies of floating experts, whatever their background, where they have no knowledge of thestrengths and opportunities of the particular institution and no staying commitment to it. It must be alot of fun to do this, but I think it is somewhat dangerous. Of course we are somewhat to blame forthis. The universities have trained these people andoften encouraged the development and misuse oftypical models. The last issue of The Chronicle ofHigher Education reports the publication this12month by the Carnegie Commission on Higher Education of a study of American college presidents.The Chronicle reports that the researchers foundthat the "typical president was conservative, conventional, white, male, and Protestant." I canhardly wait.The Commission on Higher Education has certainly added to the blizzard. While the Commissionsays its reports have had a great effect, perhaps it isthe public relations style into which so many of themare cast, or the mock specificity of their generalities,reminiscent of reports or some legislation of theLyndon Johnson era, which gives an impression oflightweightedness. If I read him correctly, Sir EricAshby has said these reports could not be profoundbecause they are political. Somehow, when I think ofthe Commission's inexhaustible emmission of reports which float across the horizon, I have theimpression of a blizzard of feathers. One group offeathers is sent up after another in what the Commission calls "selective timing." It makes one thinkof the experience of the village of Chelm.The villagers of Chelm, having a burnt-out bathhouse and no money, sent out three dignitaries, undoubtedly members of a commission, who collectedalms from the wide world. The dignitaries, afraid ofhighwaymen, turned the alms into expensive feathers, intending to float the feathers home in thewind. But after being tossed into the wind, the feathers disappeared. So the villagers, learning of this,tore up their featherbed s to send out other feathersin the air as a sort of welcoming committee to guidetheir fellow feathers home. Unfortunately this is whythe village of Chelm not only has no bathhouse butno featherbeds.The story, if it is relevant — and of course it isn't —suggests that the consequences of the CarnegieCommission on Higher Education may not be desirable. I very much hope I am wrong. The Commission is in favor of added funds for higher education,with the emphasis on government funds. This seemsto have been its main purpose. I surmise this ventureled it into a series of trade-offs in order to put together a package which it thought would win maximum support. In the package there is something forevery kind of institution, and support for almostevery imaginable program. In trying to sell thepackage the Commission employs a technique ofrecording, as though inevitable, various trends, suchas increasing government control, and it repeatsvarious customary criticisms, certainly because itbelieves them, but also, I suspect, because it thoughtthey would help persuade legislators and the influential public. In arguing for increased funds, itwrote in a way certain to be misunderstood — and itwas — of economies which could be accomplished. A recurrent theme, often later modified, is the resistance of faculty to change. The report uses languagewith which we are familiar, such as the tradition ofnot raising controversial problems. For this reasonit comes out foursquare in favor of activist, forward-looking presidents, as against consensual administrators who want to hold onto their jobs. The reportis equally bold in being in favor of inspired teaching.It accuses universities and faculties of looking backwith longing, lacking in new vision and aspiration. Itthreatens the universities with change imposed fromthe outside. It toys with a comparison between therailroad industry and higher education. Thisattractive picture has been picked up recently byanother pundit, Fred Hechinger, in a column whichhe wrote for The New York Times entitled "CampusAdrift." Mr. Hechinger wants us to come up withsome new magic formula, or take the consequences.But one must remember "The Bear Who Let ItAlone." The Commission is most eloquent in looking backward and seems possessed by certainevents. "In recent times," it writes, "students andfaculty members in unprecedented numbers haveengaged, in political activity, some of it illegal,against dominant policies and institutions in thesurrounding society. Campuses have been tornapart; relations with external groups seriouslydamaged . . . higher education has not yet made upits collective mind about how it should and will conduct itself vis-a-vis the political arena, and it remains to be seen whether it will want to make up itsmind and be able to do so; the public at large hasnot yet renewed its full faith in higher education —once bitten it is still shy ..." The Commission frequently refers to these events and their possiblerecurrence. It scolds the universities, but it seems tosavor the horror of those events. So it describes thepresent situation as an "eerie quietude." Faculty,the Commission claims, look back to the ParadiseLost of a golden age. So does the Commission, whenthe kind of governmental arrangements it wantedwere on the track, before disorder and politicalevents spoiled it all. The Commission faults highereducation for not having had a wide-spread discussion of basic purposes for a century. In no serioussense can one find this discussion in the Commission's report.Nor is this all. The Commission's report is full ofassurance as to the right doctrines and requiredarrangements for faculty and student governanceand state supervision of coordination. I could notimagine how individual members of the Commission, for whom I have great respect, could come tothese conclusions. Then I noticed that the kind ofindividual institutions to which this appeared to refer were called individual campuses. At best each13was one campus among many in great state systems.For purposes of governance, the individual privateuniversity had disappeared. But we still think thatnot only the survival but the independence of privateuniversities are important to our society.So the intervening five years have gone, whereveryears go. These are difficult times. We have hadthem before.One theme runs through these notations. It is theextraordinary power which this University has because of its shared sense of- purpose, the interrelationships among us, and the standard of excellenceNovember 28, 1973IntroductionThe rapid rate of change in social, economic, andscientific factors which directly affect academicmedical centers has necessitated adaptations, innovations, and compromises which have taxed thehuman and financial resources of the medicalcenters and their parent universities, often to theedge of despair. Departments of medicine, becauseof their central role in teaching and service and theirattendant large size are frequently the donors andrecipients of the buffetings which are characteristicof the time. The University of Chicago, its School ofMedicine, and its Department of Medicine mayhave been more protected than most institutionsfrom external influences because of its large endowment and its strong tradition of emphasis onresearch, but it would appear that now the University's medical enterprise is also experiencing theproblems common to all others.In this context, the external Review Committee ofthe Department of Medicine has attempted to assessthe programs of the Department and to suggest alternative resolutions of some outstanding issues onthe basis of experience gained in other institutions.At the outset the Committee wishes to express itsappreciation and admiration for the candor and cooperation of all those with whom it met. In the current national climate of secretiveness and devious- you have maintained. Of course the disciplinesdivide us somewhat. We have, as I implied last year,the Cassowary, Crocodile, Snake, and Hammerheadclans. But we have achieved a unity — a combinedeffort — not often equaled. So we have not forgotten,but renewed our aspirations. We have kept our direction. We have deepened our remembrance of thepast and furthered our work of discovery. Moreover,we have not lost sight of the primacy of the individual mind in the search for understanding. We thinkthat search remains important.Edward H. Levi is President of the University.ness, the openness, objectivity, and intelligence ofthe administrative officers, faculty, students, andhouse officers was refreshing, instructive, and stimulating.Review ProcessThe credibility of the evaluation which will be summarized in succeeding sections will rest in parton how the review was conducted. During two-and-a- half days, the Committee met and discussed issueswith the following individuals and groups:a. The President and Provost.b. The Dean of the School of Medicine, DeputyDean, Associate Dean, Associate Deans for theBasic Sciences and the Clinical Sciences, and theChief of Staff of the Hospital.c. The Chairman of the Department of Medicine,the Secretary of the Department, and the BusinessAdministrator.d. Each and every Section Chief of the Department of Medicine and the Director of the CancerCenter.e. Seven department chairmen (Biochemistry,Pharmacology and Physiology, Pathology, Surgery,Obstetrics and Gynecology, Pediatrics, and Psychiatry).f. Medical students representative of the second,third, and fourth years.g. House officers representative of interns, residents, and fellows.REPORT OF THE REVIEW COMMITTEE OF THEDEPARTMENT OF MEDICINE14h. The entire faculty of the Section on GeneralMedicine.i. Ten assistant professors in the Department ofMedicine.j. The Committee on Community Hospital Relationships.k. The Chief of the Medical Service at MichaelReese Hospital and four sub-specialty chiefs at thatinstitution.In addition, the physical facilities of theDepartment of Medicine at the Billings Hospitaland at Michael Reese were seen and the libraries atBillings and Regenstein were visited.Historical BackgroundThe organization of the Department of Medicineinto a series of subspecialty sections with allocationof specific inpatient facilities had a profound influence on the development of American medicine.Together with the emphasis on research, The University of Chicago pioneered the development ofsubspecialties in the discipline of Internal Medicinewhich saw its major growth in the two decades following World War II. Nationally recognized for itsleadership role in this evolution of academic medicine, particular acknowledgment was accorded tothe clinical achievements of the GastroenterologySection and to the research contributions of theHematology and Endocrine and Infectious DiseaseSections.Through the emphasis of outstanding strengths inthe subspecialty areas, the Billings Hospital wasprincipally a referral, consultation, and tertiary carecenter. An incidental and natural consequence ofthe strong Section organization was the modest toalmost inconsequential leadership role of previousDepartment Chairmen. In effect, the Chairmanshipwas more akin to a secretariat than a position ofleadership. As a result, there was no unified policyto guide departmental development or to define therelationships of the Department of Medicine withinthe School of Medicine, the University, and with thelarger community outside.It is in this setting that the effects of demographicchanges in South Chicago, societal expectations formedical care, and student and house officer aspirations should be recognized and the responses of theDepartment of Medicine weighed.Current Programs of the Department of MedicineThe Review Committee attempted to assess thethree traditional functions of an academic clinicaldepartment with regard to quantity and quality aswell as their appropriateness to the latter part of thetwentieth century. /. Teaching. The Department has a large commitment to teaching at the undergraduate college student level, in all four years of medical studenteducation, in a large house officer program, and forphysicians in practice.1. The Committee had no opportunity to explorethe role of the Department in College student education.2. The Departmental contributions to medicalstudent education are in the main well received andappreciated. Particularly favored were the ClinicalOrientation Program for the first-year students, aninnovation in the curriculum, and the reorganizedClinical Pathophysiology. Serious criticism waslevelled at the teaching in Physiology, a significantpart of which is given by the Department of Medicine, because it was considered to be poorly organized, not internally cohesive, and often slacklyprepared. The teaching of Infectious Disease inMicrobiology was appreciated. The major clinicalclerkship takes place in the third year and is wellreceived by the students. Their experience on theGeneral Medicine Section received particular accolades. In the fourth year, the students indicate alarge preference for clinical electives in the Department of Medicine as opposed to other clinicaldepartments.It was the belief of the Review Committee that themedical students teaching commitment of the Department was excessive for its size in light of theother departmental responsibilities. It was not, however, possible to document this on a comparativebasis with other medical school departments; and, ifthis statistical evidence is not available in the Dean'sOffice, it is recommended that a study be carriedout in order to allocate the fiscal and manpowerresources more equitably. For example, on the basisof anecdotal evidence, the Department of Pathology,with approximately one- half the number of facultycarries only about one-sixth of the teaching load ofthat of the Department of Medicine suggesting thateither a decrease in teaching responsibilities for theDepartment of Medicine or an increase in staff isindicated.3. House officer training, in large part due to thestrengthening of the General Medicine Section, iswell received. There is good objective evidence thatthe recently introduced departmental programshave improved the quality of the internes attractedto The University of Chicago. This is of moreimportance than merely the general aspiration of aninstitution to achieve excellence, because the housestaff plays a major role in medical student teachingand its competence is therefore highly significant tothe undergraduate educational program. Theresidents are well satisfied with the clinical experience in the specialty sections and applaud the15training they receive both as generalists and specialists. Both the interne and resident group cited manyinstances of inadequate hospital administrativesupport for their work.The Review Committee members recognized thehigh quality of the house officer training program inMedicine at The University of Chicago and, in contrast to a few years ago, commend it to students attheir own institutions. Although dissatisfaction withhospital administration is traditional with a housestaff, the Committee has the impression that thecriticisms expressed by the University internes andresidents are at least partially valid and suggests,therefore, that the channels of communication withthe Hospital Administration and Administrativeresponsiveness be reexamined.4. Continuing Education. The programs of physician education at the Methodist Hospital (Gary,Indiana), South Chicago Community Hospital, andWoodlawn Hospital have been developed withinrecent years and with variable success. On the basisof available evidence, the Gary, Indiana, programhas its major impact now in the outreach activity ofthe Cancer Center. At the South Chicago Community Hospital, the School of Medicine programshave been well received and the attitudes of thepracticing physicians toward the University havebecome supportive.The Review Committee believes that all universitymedical centers have a responsibility to continuingeducation. They must include teaching along withresearch in medical education. The University,however, cannot assume the fiscal responsibility forthese programs which must be supported at thelocal level and/or through external grants. Inaddition to meeting an educational responsibility,the outreach programs are of particular importanceto the maintenance of the Billings Hospital as areferral center. This cannot be overemphasized because neglect of the referral pathways could spellfiscal disaster in the years ahead.The initiative taken by the Department of Medicine in continuing education is laudable and deserves further administrative support.77. Research. Neither time nor the qualifications ofthe members of the Review Committee permitted acritical comprehensive evaluation of the extensiveresearch programs in progress in the Department ofMedicine. On the basis of the annual reports of theSections, a recent Departmental bibliography, andthe published summary of research in the Divisionof Biological Sciences, together with the perceptionsof the Review Committee of the faculty's nationalreputations, the investigative work of the Sectionswas categorized as follows:1. Well above the national standard of depart ments of medicine: Endocrinology, Cardiology,Gastroenterology, Hematology, and Oncology.2. Within the national norm: Rheumatology.3. Not distinguished: Infectious Diseases, Nephrology, Chest, Neurology, Dermatology.4. Developing: General Medicine.The Review Committee recognized that a numberof the Sections were small in size and had beenrecently constituted or reconstituted which couldaccount for their sub- optimal research contributions. All Sections suffered from heavy teaching andservice obligations which compromised time andeffort for research.The departmental members believe that researchcreativity is the principal if not sole criterion foracademic advancement. The younger faculty particularly resent this conception (or, possibly, misconception), since each must conduct research as well ascarry an equal teaching and service load with hispeers regardless of his interests or talents. If the perception of the junior faculty is correct, and this isinstitutional policy, the Review Committee stronglyrecommends that academic recognition be accordedto the scholarly clinician as well as the scientificresearcher so that a more rational distribution ofeffort can be achieved. Departments of medicineneed both types of faculty to meet current demands.III. Clinical Service. The time commitment of thefaculty to in-patient and out-patient care is verylarge and growing. Nationally recognized for theirclinical excellence, in the opinion of the ReviewCommittee, are the Sections of Gastroenterology,Endocrinology, and Hematology-Oncology. TheRenal, Chest, and Infectious Diseases Sectionsrequire strengthening. The Cardiology Section hasbeen placed at a great disadvantage on the nationalscene for service because the absence of an adequatecardiac catherization laboratory, first promised in1963 and still not completed, does not make itcompetitive in terms of training and ability to renderclinical service.Special attention was devoted to the NeurologySection because of its desire to attain departmentalstatus. Although the Review Committee recognizedthe advantages of joining the adult and pediatricneurologists which would be assured by the creationof a department, this alone did not appear to be asufficient justification. If the establishment of a department was the occasion for a more extensivereorganization of the Neurology Section with therecruitment of outside leadership in immuno-neurology, virology, motor disorders, etc., coupledwith effective integration of basic neurosciences andthe Brain Research group, then more favorable consideration might be in order. This, however, did notseem to be the plan envisaged now.16The General Medical Service as it is now organized and operated is an innovation and a personalachievement of the Department Chairman. As thesubspecialty sections once pioneered the nationaldevelopment of this pattern, so the General MedicalService in the present departmental setting seemslikely to establish a model which will be followedelsewhere. The in- and out-patient General MedicalService provides a much needed facility for the community, offering comprehensive medical care for thecommon and often critical problems such as drugoverdosage, acute myocardial infarction, sepsis,liver disease, massive hemorrhage, and so on. It provides the appropriate and much needed experiencefor the training of primary care physicians, and ithas attracted young and skilled clinician-teachers tothe Department. In the Review Committee s opinion, it merits high marks.IV. Departmental Leadership. The Review Committee is of the opinion that Dr. Tarlov has done aremarkable job in a very difficult assignment. Becoming Chairman as a relatively young man, withonly a modest national reputation, in a Departmentdominated by Section Chiefs, he has demonstratedqualities of leadership which have given the Department defined direction and objectives. Throughbitter experience, he has shown progressive growthin administrative ability and has gained the sometimes grudging support of Section Chiefs and thewholehearted backing of the junior faculty. He hasimproved the teaching and patient care in the Department and has recruited good faculty. He isfavorably recognized by other departmental chairmen and has given leadership in institutionaloutreach programs.There are many problems yet to be solved, butwith strong support from Administration the ReviewCommittee believes that Dr. Tarlov has the capacity,initiative, and imagination to move the Departmentforward.V. Michael Reese. The affiliation with MichaelReese has been in effect since 1967 but presentsunresolved issues of particular concern to theDepartment of Medicine. Dr. Tarlov played an important role in the recruiting of Dr. Louis Sherwoodas Chief of Medicine. It has been his hope that astrong medical service at Michael Reese wouldsupplement and complement the education andservice functions of the Department of Medicine.This was to be achieved in several areas: (a) by theassignment of medical students to Michael Reese fortheir basic medical clerkships as well as instructionin physical diagnosis and medical electives; (b) byadding strength to the Department through collaborative teaching, research, and possibly service between a number of the subspecialty sections;(c) by avoiding the duplication of costly technicalpersonnel and facilities in such areas as calciummetabolism and renal dialysis which would be basedprimarily at Michael Reese while at the same timeconserving resources which would permit strengthening of specific sections at the University; (d) byproviding students and house staff with opportunities to see other models of medical care in the formof entrepreneurial practice and pre-paid groupplans.The Review Committee is strongly supportive ofthe affiliation of the Department of Medicine withthe Medical Service at Michael Reese. The justifications which have been cited appear reasonable andentirely consistent with the general practice of mostmajor university medical centers. Few schools of thestature and scope of The University of Chicago havefunctioned with only one teaching hospital. Mostschools have the benefit of a Veterans Administration Hospital as well as an affiliated but non-university teaching hospital. Further, it is noteworthy thatthe full time Chief of Medicine at Michael Reese,Dr. Louis Sherwood, is extremely well qualifiedacademically and hence is certain to be able to recruit colleagues valuable to him and the University'sprogram. This conclusion does not imply that thereare no significant problems in the affiliation andthese will be analyzed in the succeeding section.VI. Problems of the Department of Medicine asPerceived by the Review Committee1. Uncertainty of Medical School direction.In the absence of a clearly enunciated policy orprogram with regard to the direction of the Schoolof Medicine in the next decade, the Department ofMedicine suffers from internal uncertainties as towhere to assign priorities. Is the School and itsteaching hospital to remain a contained unitdevoted to research and teaching and providingclinical service only to the extent that this is contributory to the two objectives? To ask the question,the Review Committee believes, is immediately torecognize that it is only rhetorical. No universitymedical school can long remain viable without becoming extensively involved in societal demands andneeds. This, we believe, is merely stating a fact; itdoes not necessarily imply that this is best for theinstitution, but it cannot be avoided.To document this in extenso would be inappropriate, but we would cite the dependence of medicalschools on federal research dollars which areincreasingly channelled to categorical diseasesrequiring interdisciplinary collaboration, service tothe community, and continuing education, viz., theCancer Center; to the federal support of medicaleducation with the attendant assignment to medical17schools of the responsibility for physician distribution and increased attention to primary care; to thefiscal viability of the university teaching hospitalwhich is dependent upon public moneys for patientcare and also dependent upon patient referrals fromoutlying areas by physicians whose quid pro quo iscontinuing education; and finally by the demands ofmedical students, house officers, and junior facultywho are motivated to meet societal needs.If this position is realistic then it should beespoused by the University leadership and thefaculty. Moreover, the responsibilities and consequences of this position must be clearly understoodthroughout the University. The programs of theDepartment of Medicine in primary care, continuing education, and other outreach activities thenwould be seen as supportive of institutional policy.If, on the other hand, the institution rejects theconcept and can function largely as a traditionalresearch enterprise, then many of the programs ofthe Department of Medicine are not contributorybut, in fact, dilute the emphasis on research.2. Solvency. Neither the University nor the Department of Medicine can undertake new programswithout generating new income to support them.The Department of Medicine has recognized this inits continuing education program which is adequately funded by the recipient institutions. Clinicaldepartments also have the capacity to generateincome from practice and the large amount of clinical service provided by the Department shouldrealize substantially greater funds than it does atpresent. The Review Committee has not examinedthe business administration of the Hospital, butexperience shows that a more compulsive and effective job of billing and collection is achieved when theresponsibility is vested at the Department ratherthan Hospital level. This would be particularly trueif a system is developed for return of a significantportion of the net income to the Department for itsuse in developing new programs and in providing forother academic needs. More importantly, this wouldallow a necessary degree of fiscal flexibility to theDepartment. At the present time, all budgetarydecisions are made at the Dean's office leaving theChairman few, if any, alternatives.3. Academic appointments. There appears tohave been misunderstanding and confusion withregard to academic appointments at the MichaelReese Hospital. There are at least three issues involved: (1) quality control; (2) tenure; (3) faculty prerogatives.The Review Committee offers these suggestions:Quality Control. All appointments and promotions must be initiated by the DepartmentChairman and reviewed by a Departmental Personnel Committee which has the responsibility of evaluating credentials and gaining external opinions. When the Department approves, this is forwarded to a Medical School Personnel Committeewith appropriate documentation and the MedicalSchool Committee conducts an independent review.On approval, the recommendation is forwarded tothe Dean who, after consideration, sends theaccumulated documentation to the Provost with hisrecommendation.Tenure. If tenure is at issue, the professionallifetime salary must be guaranteed formally by theMichael Reese Hospital. Alternatively, if the University statutes permit, a qualified form of tenuremight be granted in which the salary was explicitlystated to be contingent upon Michael Reese funds.Faculty prerogatives. It is our understanding thatthe principal issue here is voting and Council representation. Since, in our view, an increase in the sizeof the medical faculty is inevitable, and if this isrecognized by the University family as a necessity fora major university medical school, then statutorychanges might be made to effect a proportionatereduction in the voting strength of the faculty of theSchool of Medicine. Since the problem is common tomost universities in our country, many models couldbe examined to determine that most adaptable toThe University of Chicago.4. Department of Medicine faculty salaries.There appears to be general recognition that thesalaries at all academic ranks are low and notnationally competitive. As suggested in an earliersection, the Review Committee believes that the Department could realize a larger income from patientcare with improved business methods allowing animmediate across-the-board increment in salaryfollowed by further merit increases where indicated.It is the Review Committee's impression that thelow salaries have played a significant role in recentlosses of junior faculty in particular. If it is agreedthat income from clinical service may be used tosupplement salaries, Dr. Tarlov has already prepared an excellent data base as well as administrative procedure to implement such a program.5. Department size. As has been emphasized inearlier sections, the heavy commitments of the Department in teaching, research, and service areexcessive and threaten effective performance. Sincemost of these functions are important andnecessary, in the Review Committee's opinion, itrecommends a substantial increase in the departmental membership. It is our understanding thatthe University has great flexibility in its appointments and therefore by no means all of the additionsneed be to the full-time faculty or on a tenure track.In whatever rank or capacity, however, the Department must assume responsibility for funding, fromfunds generated through grants, gifts, or patient18care.6. Interdepartmental communication. On thebasis of discussions with seven Department Chairmen in the Basic and Clinical Sciences it wasapparent that interdepartmental barriers to research were virtually non-existent. Teaching andservice programs, on the other hand, were illunderstood and apparently no ready mechanismexisted for department chairmen to share information, to solve common problems, and to aid in thedevelopment of institutional policy.If this perception of the Review Committee isaccurate, we would suggest that the appropriateforum be established by the Dean's Office to facilitate a full exchange of information on budgetaryproblems, relative teaching loads, service issues, andother intra- and extra-mural programs.7. Administrative relationships and administrative support. The lack of fiscal flexibility at the departmental level has been mentioned. In addition, acommunication gap appears to exist between thedepartment and the various Deans. The channels ofcommunication are on the one hand restrictive, withgreat delegation on the part of the Dean to theDeputy Deans, while at the same time being excessively permissive, to the extent of encouraging"end runs" to the Provost on the part of a fewfavored faculty. This modus operandi all too oftenleaves the Chairman in an administrative vacuum,and delays action on important issues. The Committee recommends that the Channels of communication between the Dean, Deputy Deans, Chief ofStaff, and the Chairman be redefined. Moreover,provided Departmental earnings permit, the Chairman should be permitted sufficient fiscal flexibilityto bolster existing programs or to develop new ones,according to the priorities set by the faculty of hisDepartment.Summary1. Under the present Chairman, the Department ofMedicine is beginning to function as a unit withdefined "objectives in teaching and service.2. The administrative, teaching, and leadershipqualities of the Chairman are of a high order and hemerits the support of his colleagues in the Department and the Administration.3. The quality of research and patient care variesamong the several Sections and some requirestrengthening to attain the excellence of others.4. The General Medical Section is an innovativedevelopment in the Department which is quite outstanding and contributes importantly to the teaching and patient care.5. All Sections are overcommitted in teachingand service so that the research effort is difficult topreserve or is compromised. 6. The medical student, house officer, and continuing education programs are, in the main, excellent and well received. The large commitment of theDepartment to the Physiology teaching should bereviewed and improved.7. The Michael Reese affiliation offers a valuableresource to the Department of Medicine in teachingand patient care and should be encouraged, although problems in achieving better coordinationhave been identified, they can be resolved.8. The outreach and continuing education programs fulfill an obligation of the University toimprove the quality of medical practice and alsoencourage the use of the Billings Hospital as a referral center.Recommendations1. Increase the fiscal responsibility and autonomyof the Department of Medicine by assigning to it thefunction of billing and collecting for patient serviceand allocating to it a major portion of the netincome.2. Increase the salaries of the Departmentalfaculty substantively, primarily through incomegenerated from patient care.3. Permit an increase in Departmental sizethrough the appointment of part-time and nontenure faculty without University voting privilegesand without increase in fiscal responsibility of theUniversity.4. Develop precise guidelines for the appointment of faculty at Michael Reese and assure qualitycontrol through Departmental and School of Medicine review prior to final examination by the Provost.5. Develop precise guidelines for the funding ofMichael Reese faculty so that the University doesnot become financially encumbered.6. Develop institutional policy to guide the Department of Medicine and other clinical departments in community programs.7. Improve communications among and betweenthe basic science and clinical departments so thatthere is mutual understanding and support for programs.8. Improve communications of the Departmentalfaculty and its Chairman with the Central Administration of the School of Medicine and the University.Daniel Federman, M.D., Stanford UniversityAlfred Gellhorn, M.D. (Chairman), The Universityof PennsylvaniaRobert G. Petersdorf, M.D., University of Washington, Seattle.Helen M. Ranney, M.D., University of California,San Diego19Comments on the ReportTo: President Edward H. LeviDecember 17, 1973I have just read the Gellhorn Committee Report onthe Department of Medicine, which has been circulated to the Department by Dr. Tarlov. I do notknow whether your long service and experience asan administrative officer of the University, as Deanof the Law School, Provost, and President haveinured you to such reports. I would guess not, buteven if I knew you took them in stride with equanimity, I would be compelled to write to you in response to this one, for I found it extremely offensiveand saddening.I will confess a certain perverse and petty comfortfrom the generally awkward diction of thedocument, the incorrect spelling of your name in thecovering letter, and the grammatical defects, which,on pages 14 and 15 of the Report [see pages 17 and18], lead to incoherence. Evidently, the "transcontinental revisions and polishing," which were so"time-consuming," were insufficient.I wish to respond especially, of course, but notexclusively, to the treatment of the Section of Neurology. Although it is stated in the Report that"special attention was directed to the NeurologySection because of its desire to attain departmentalstatus," the analysis and assessment of the Sectionof Neurology was, in fact, superficial and uninformed. The Committee interviewed seven otherdepartment chairmen in addition to Dr. Tarlov; theentire faculty of the Section of General Medicine;residents and fellows; the Chief of Medicine atMichael Reese; four subspecialty chiefs at MichaelReese; and the physical facilities at Michael Reese.The survey of the Section of Neurology, however,included an interview of only three of the sixmembers of the neurology faculty. The neurologyresidents, who spend three years in training in ourSection, were not interviewed, nor were the graduatestudents who receive their training in the laboratories of the Section of Neurology. The physicalfacilities of the Section of Neurology were notvisited.I find the phrase and the idea, "leadership inmotor disorders," as a suggested goal for our section, naive, as any neurologist would. As for neuro-immunology and virology, which, it is stated in theReport, we do not plan or seek to establish, it isprecisely these areas that we would try vigorously todevelop, given the opportunity. Similarly, theReport states that we do not plan "effective integration of the basic neurosciences," when the fact isthat we have been engaged in such integration ofbasic and clinical neurology for many years, to a greater extent than the great majority of otherneurological training centers. We are known andhighly respected for this among neurologists of thiscountry, but not, unfortunately, by Chairmen of Departments of Medicine, not even by the group whodevoted "special attention" to our Section. Dr.Robert Cutler, for example, holds joint appointments in the Department of Physiology and Pharmacology, and in the Department of Medicine, as amember of the Section of Neurology. For years,many graduate students in pharmacology, as well asresidents in neurology have been trained in hislaboratory. Dr. Robert Moore has likewise providedbasic training in neuro- anatomical and neurochemical transmitter research for our residents and forgraduate students in basic science departments.Drs. Nicholas Lenn and Nicholas Vick have beenactively involved in the training of elective medicalstudents and our postdoctoral trainees in ultra-structural research in the nervous system. All ofthese activities have been carried out by clinicianswho are also basic scientists, and each teacher-student interaction has resulted in a significantcontribution to knowledge in basic neurobiology.Neuropathology, another of the basic disciplinesrelated to clinical neurology, is covered, so far as thetraining of neurology residents is concerned, entirelyby our Section of Neurology, unlike the situation inmost other training centers, and our Section isnationally recognized for truly outstanding competence in this endeavor. What is all of this if it isnot integration of basic and medical neurology? Is itreally so that the panoply of a term like "Institute"is required in order that people and work of substance are recognized?Furthermore, at the undergraduate level, Dr.Cutler has played a leading role in the NeurobiologyCourse for freshman medical students for fouryears, not only as a faculty participant for part of it,but in organizing the course as a whole. One of thepredecessors of this course, the old freshman coursein neuroanatomy, was taught for several years forthe entire class by Dr. Moore, usually single-handed. At present Dr. Moore gives a course inneurobiology at the college level.The Section of Neurology at The University ofChicago consists of six faculty, of whom Drs. RobertMoore, Robert Cutler, and I may be regarded as thesenior members, and Drs. Ruthmary Duel, NicholasLenn, and Nicholas Vick, as the junior members. Allthree senior members have well-established nationalstature as scholars and investigators in the neurosciences, and each of the junior members of the staffis well on the way to similar stature. To say, as theCommittee has in its Report, that the Section ofNeurology is "not distinguished" in research, isdownright irresponsible and wrong, and I regard20that designation as an unspeakable affront.The Section of Dermatology, headed by Dr. AllanLorincz, is also listed among the "not distinguished." I do not know the reasons for this. I donot know the present status of the volume and thequality of the research productivity of that Sectionas a whole. But its inclusion in the list of undistinguished sections leads me to question the proprietyof such a simple ranking format. I believe there is nodermatologist who excels Dr. Lorincz in scholarship,research, clinical skill, and teaching ability, and ifhe were the only person in the Section, I would rankit as distinguished in all areas.Several of the Sections of the Department werecited for clinical excellence, but the Section of Neurology was not among them. This is indeed anotheraffront. No member of the faculty of theDepartment of Medicine does as much clinical workas each of the members of the Section of Neurology,and this clinical activity is of the highest quality. Weare, in fact, a highly regarded referral center forneurology. Whatever the other merits of an "outreach program" may be, the Section of Neurologydoes not require one for the establishment or themaintenance of its stature as a referral center.Nothing is said in the Report about the clinicalteaching functions of the Section of Neurology,another omission that makes the Committee's claimto the devotion of special attention to our Sectionabsurd. The briefest way I can remedy this for ourteaching of undergraduates is to point out that formany years a greater proportion of the graduates ofour medical school than of any other in the countryhave entered the field of neurology. As for ourresidency training program, our trainees are alwaysin demand for academic posts everywhere in thecountry. A U. of C. Trained Neurologist is a name-brand product. Ninety percent of all of our traineesduring the past 25 years have gone into and remained in academic positions. No other trainingcenter has approached this achievement.Speaking more generally, there is something elseabout the Report that excites a species of sorrow andembarrassment more than wrath, and that is thepartisan and opinionated tone that the distinguished physicians making up the Gellhorn Committee have seen fit to adopt. We are given the senseof a courageous, embattled chairman undergoing"bitter experience," and gaining the "grudgingsupport" of section chiefs. I have known Dr. Tarlovfor a long time, I admire his qualities, and he and Ihave always gotten on well, but I wonder about theappropriateness and the reason for the Committee'srepeated emphasis of his courage and honesty.There are, so far I am aware, no cowards or crooksin the Department of Medicine. The report informsus that for the first time we have a Chairmanship that is more than a mere Secretariat, a Chairmanship that is capable of unifying the Department anddefining its goals and directions. This is not altogether accurate. There have been, in fact, strongchairmen prior to Dr. Tarlov, and among them weresome who did harm as well as good by reason oftheir cocksureness about everybody's directions andgoals. There is a difference between wisdom andrestraint on the one hand, and weakness on theother.Why is it that in the ranking of the Sections, therubric "developing" is set aside for the Section ofGeneral Medicine ("a personal achievement of theDepartment Chairman"), while the Chest and Infectious Disease Sections are dispensed with in the"not distinguished" category? How is one to interpret this except as another instance of disingenuouspartisanship? The irony is especially sharp, for itwas during the strong leadership of a previous chairman that a truly distinguished Section of PulmonaryDisease disassembled itself and departed.Some three and a half pages of the 23-pageReport are devoted to the Michael Reese Hospital,while the. Section of Neurology is covered disdainfully in half a page. I would guess that the timespent by the Committee visiting at the MichaelReese Hospital was some four or five times thatgiven to the Section of Neurology. The Committeesubmits its opinion, in agreement with Dr. Tarlov,that the affiliation with Michael Reese Hospital isdesirable for the Department of Medicine. I remaincompletely unconvinced that this is so.The Committee stated that the reason for its having special attention to the Section of Neurology wasthat Section's wish for departmental status. I didnot ask for special attention to Neurology at all, forthat or any other reason. It was evidently Dr. Tarlovwho informed the Committee of our recently, and asyet informally expressed wish for departmentalstatus. I wonder if it is possible that the partisanspirit was so strong that we may have come off farbetter in the Report had the Committee not knownof this. I voice this as a speculation, a plausible one,but not as an accusation, for there are other reasonsfor a woefully incomplete grasp of neurology byinternists.It is true that the professional and scientific linksbetween neurology and internal medicine arestronger than the relation of neurology with anyother branch of medicine or surgery. But the scopeof these two specialities of medicine has expanded toan extent such that Chairmen of Departments ofMedicine who can encompass the intellectual andwork habits of neurologists are now regarded byneurologists as curiosities. There are few internistswho can judge Divisions, Sections, and Departmentsof Neurology, just as there are few neurologists who21can judge Departments of Medicine, and there wereno neurologists on the Gellhorn Committee. I, myself, have come to this view only recently. For a longtime, I defended and espoused the position ofNeurology as a subspecialty in Departments ofMedicine, against the arguments to the contrarywhich have long been made by directors of trainingprograms in neurology at other medical schools. Forthe reasons evident in this letter, and for manyothers, I have come firmly to agree with my counterparts elsewhere, 60 percent of whom now head programs that have departmental status. The Report ofthe Gellhorn Committee proves their point.There is still another aspect of this Report thatsaddens me in a more immediate and personal way.Whatever purpose will be served by its appearancein a University publication, one certain effect of itwill be to undermine unjustly and irresponsibly themorale, the efforts, and the reputations of my residents and my colleagues in the Section of Neurology.Sidney Schulman, M.D.Section of NeurologyTo: President Edward H. LeviJanuary 21, 1974Publication of the evaluation of the Department ofMedicine by the Gellhorn Committee could lead tosome misconstructions by our colleagues elsewhereBy WALTER L. WALKERSeptember 17, 1973Since last year's report on crime in university communities,1 I have become more intimately involvedwith the security problems that affect this University. Since the beginning of the Winter Quarter of1973, the Director of Security has reported to myoffice. This new perspective has allowed me to more1. Walter L. Walker, "Crime in University Communities,"The University of Chicago Record, October 31, 1972,Volume VI, Number 6* Page 97. in the University. A survey of a large departmentsuch as ours involves an over- all evaluation andjudgment concerning the performance of segmentsof the department, subspecialty sections in our case.It is to the opinions expressed with respect to certainof these sections that we wish to address ourselves.National recognition of such units has quantitative as well as qualitative aspects. The resources ofthe University in terms of funds for faculty appointments and laboratory facilities are obviously insufficient at this time for us to afford recognizeddistinction in every section. Yet, at the same time, itis vital that our Department have able representation in every subspecialty area. We do! Withoutexception those sections singled out for strengthening are small and have, at this time, limited opportunities for growth.A special comment should be made with respectto neurology at our University, a group of six facultymembers which includes three members in the Department of Medicine and three in the Departmentof Pediatrics. It seems obvious to us that the visitingcommittee must have considered those in Medicinealone; for it is widely appreciated that the collectivestrength of the medical and pediatrics faculty (thepediatricians do have secondary appointments inmedicine) is well above the national mean.Harry A. Fozzard, M.D., Department of MedicineRichard L. Landau, M.D., Department of MedicineArthur Rubenstein, M.D., Department of Medicinefully appreciate the nature and the circumstancesthat surround the crimes reported in the Universitycommunity. This new perspective has convinced meof the validity of the comparisons with selectedcommunities surrounding other universities that Ihave made in previous reports. 2In addition, I have been collecting a clipping fileof crime articles dealing with university communi-2. Walter L. Walker, "Crime in University Communities,"The University of Chicago Record, December 17, 1971,Volume V, Number 8, Page 147.CRIME IN UNIVERSITY COMMUNITIES,THIRD REPORT22ties across the nation. These articles have not beensystematically collected from all possible sources,but they do tend to illustrate both the scope and thewidespread nature of the problem.The truth of the matter is that university communities across the nation have experienced a growing consciousness of crime. This consciousness isreflected in the large number of articles in campus,local, and national publications having to do withcampus-related crimes. Quotations from some ofthese articles should communicate the atmosphereassociated with the problem coast to coast.Crime in the areas surrounding The University ofChicago has been a concern of the University, community organizations, and individual citizens, for along time. Efforts to reduce crime in our communityhave been initiated by each of the above-citedparticipants. My report of last year cited some of themore obvious examples of efforts to effectively dealwith what has been characterized as "the crimeproblem." These efforts are continuing and othersare being initiated to further enhance the desirability of the community.The Chicago Police Department continues toprovide a high level of professional service to thiscommunity. On several occasions during the pastyear, their actions have resulted in the quick apprehension of violators. The University's own securitydepartment also has been instrumental in the successful fight against lawbreakers that is reflected inthe statistics on reported crime. It has a 24- hourpatrol service seven days a week. Its existence alongwith the efforts of the Chicago Police Departmentmeans that the University community has an extraordinary level of police protection. This protection isfurther augmented by the free mini-bus service inthe evenings and the over 100 security phones (whiteboxes) which facilitate communication betweenpedestrians and the security dispatcher's desk. Thecontinued efforts of law enforcement agencies,citizens, community organizations, and communityinstitutions, have combined to produce the realitythat Hy&e Park-Kenwood is not a "soft-touch" forpotential criminals.In 1972, the 21st Police District in which the University is located experienced 5,031 index crimes(burglary, auto thefts, murder, thefts from autos,robbery, or assault). In 1965, we experienced 5,495.In 1971, we experienced 5,340 crimes of this nature.The 1972 figure represents a decrease of 5.8 percentfrom 1971. The 1972 figure represents a decrease ofover 8 percent from 1965. The table on page 24 indicates what several other communities that containmajor universities have experienced.For three years this report has omitted data forthe police districts surrounding Columbia Univer sity, Temple University, and the University ofPennsylvania because of the difficulties involved insecuring data from specific police districts in majorcities.While the 21st Police District in Chicago is comparable in size to the communities in the table,readers might be interested in statistics for the HydePark-Kenwood community (47th Street to 61stStreet, Cottage Grove to Lake Michigan). In 1971,there were 3 homicides, 37 rapes, 7 serious assaults(includes only shootings), 397 robberies, 733 burglaries, 270 purse snatchings, 668 thefts from autos,and 737 thefts of autos for a total of 2,846 indexcrimes. In 1972 comparable figures showed an overall decrease of 17.3 percent. We experienced 9homicides, 33 rapes, 3 serious assaults (includes onlyshootings), 385 robberies, 742 burglaries, 166 pursesnatchings, 421 thefts from autos, and 595 thefts ofautos.Following last year's report, there were two lettersin Chicago Rap that alleged that this Report was anattempt by the University to minimize the crime picture around the University. On the contrary, theUniversity has initiated new security measures in thedormitories and has announced the policy of firmness against those students in the dormitory whocompromise the safety of their house mates by rendering the safety measures inoperable. This policy offirmness could ultimately result in the eviction ofthose who have demonstrated their unwillingness tocooperate. This Report is an attempt to educate themembers of this community about the realities of"the crime problem."By taking steps to illustrate the scope of campus-related crimes across the country, this Report seeksto combat the reactions of some that our situationwith respect to crime is unique. I hope to combat thefeeling held by some that our problem is uniquebecause this community is surrounded by blackpoor people. The statistics reported in the tablewould seem to suggest that either neighborhoodcrime is not a unique characteristic of universitycommunities that contain black poor people or thateach of the communities in this Report contain largenumbers of black poor people. The second alternative is probably not true of Racine, Wisconsin;Tacoma, Washington; Providence, Rhode Island;Evansville, Indiana; Ann Arbor, Michigan; Cham-paign-Urbana, Illinois; Evanston, Illinois; Madison,Wisconsin; South Bend, Indiana; Berkeley, California; New Haven, Connecticut; or Cambridge,Massachusetts. The last three named communitiesdo contain fairly large black subcommunities. Theproportion of blacks in each of these communities,however, does not even begin to approach the magnitude of the 35 percent black population of Hyde23:ent EASE EASE) -72 oof^f^3of^LO p (N ^ th lo r^ oqiO^(ShO^(S o <N CO th co co 00CN tH tH tH Hv— ' "^-^ "^ ^-^ S"^ >— ? S»^ "W >— 'W X m ^^ 5 gXw ^QW(S H ^" SO ^ O VO ^" H I/) ^O ^ lO SO HCO <N Tj- <^- LO so so tQMOiOfShlOovoV'i/jhi/) so1 (N ^f o d sd nz S £ft s <^* « ^2 u ?Hz/«-» VPERCENT INCREASE DECREASE 1970-71 cs^c»soo^^oqoqc^cJ^ppi/)pdiodc6(Nvoririiodt^vdodT^vdt— 1 i-HtHtH fS| M H H^_^wXW ftQWH ot^oooofOTfo^Mt^q^^h-iosoTj-t>rot^<^ro<NrOTroOLOvot>Qvoco h th p t> o^ r*^ p so i> ^ oq o^ p co* § £*"""* -T2 _jX p^ U^l>t^00^^t^U0rOsO^THLOsO^^sO^fOo u f—t£PERCENT INCREASE (DECREASE) 1965-70 rOsOsOsOMOOHvqoqiOsOh;vOsO(Sodni/J^O^ONfit^vdd^rOHroodh(NOhOOmOOOO^(NO^(NHHH(N(NHH(SH i-HtHtHC/3 g <^rO(NTHsoroO(NrOTHt^OTHvOsowS OMOTrH^^vo^i^^ootooHo^rH i/)h«sOM/)00Tr(S«/)Hi/)vOHvOr0« rHuQZI/) iOTHi/)U0i^i/)sO(NQHt^00Mr0(N^d $ ^ iO oo rr t^ ^ul°'N^0^'^ril/lc<lcllz i/T CO (N fO th (N rH t-T CO i/f lo <N tHzO r^H0 P< ^ £ OOvO^O^OOOOOtOOfOHfSOOtHCNOOOOOOOsOO^hOOvOppt^co^io^pppoo^t^r^cNiOrHri 2 ^p *-* w d d so co io i> d d d a^ od K on t" iooo^HTH(NcooLOLor^co<^r^LOONeu u ,-H ,-H ^H i-H rH i-H t— 1 i— 1 i— 1 rH t— 1OPh.* HoHu ° 2 ~ • £ SiS U S ^ 13 ~ U g D 2 d fl *• * j? «3 3m£££Su<:fit2&&Htf W>tj ao C/JQ< s<L> otf Es <ffit-l Uine O^ O<2 X!oa ViP 73o<u T3.a VsC (No3 C/3o3aVa 5/5"B oJ3£ <8. 'ao3 oo oe c0> rW43 H«+x>» o,£> a><N tit^-On •431-1 C/3T3 >— iGo3 0tH ct^-o>T~l *oR §(^ 000m 0so j=o> ^sc« O <uV4•^ »^c3 >> ccj>> W5 »-Jd>^3 drl o d a<4H V3'i h£€8 i ?^ is<U £ u1-1 >CO i)1 CCJo bo MX5u 2 P3X 9 0*0) ts On3 oj ^=1 -Ma w 03 <UCA ^5 .fr'S1"5 "3o w faa °^C/5Qd> cs.21i ft> >-> S2 "3^ >> O. w ej(N D b C/Jgi oo •8 -523 0a «« e« «.£o w #£Park- Kenwood.What is important in this instance is to identifythe unusual fears that prevail in a white personbecause he shares a geographical area with largenumbers of black people. People's perceptions ofdanger make for special problems in a communitywhere large numbers of inhabitants are studentswho have not lived in racially integrated areas previously and where there is a determination amongall the residents to maintain an integrated neighborhood.There is evidence that crime on or near universitycampuses is a problem that is national in scope andis largely unrelated to the races of the victims,criminals, or residents of the surrounding area. Acomparison of the total index crimes in 1972 forMadison, Wisconsin (5,864); Berkeley, California(6,946); or South Bend, Indiana (5,750) with the 21stPolice District of the City of Chicago (5,031) wouldseem to support my conclusion.An examination of some quotes from a few of thearticles I have collected over the year may contributean additional dimension to the national scope andseverity of the problem.Student Stabbed to Death on Michigan StateCampus"A student returning from a party was stabbed todeath before dawn at Michigan State Universitypolice reported."Martin Brown, 20, of Midland, Michigan, wasfound fatally wounded near the statue of a SpartanWarrior known among students as Sparty in thecenter of the MSU campus."Brown lived long enough to tell Department ofPublic Safety Officers that he was attacked by twomen, officers said. The student was taken to Sparrow Hospital in Lansing where he died. Police wereunable to determine a motive for the slaying." ' We're looking for witnesses now,' said Department of Public Safety Sergeant Harold Henderson.'We think there must have been some witnesses.That's a heavily traveled area at that time of themorning on a weekend.'"Brown was stabbed about 1:30 a.m."(Chicago Sun-Times, March 12, 1973)On Post Campus, Friends of Slain Coed Ask"Why?""College students are not strangers to death — not ina time of drug abuse, not a few years after KentState. But the campus murder of Patricia Sullivanhas shaken her friends at C. W. Post College in a waythey never imagined." 'Not serene Patty,' said Patricia Maher, whountil Monday had lived in the same dormitory where Miss Sullivan's body was found yesterday. 'If it wasdrugs — if it was somebody who was loose or crazy —I'd say "who?" or "how." But with Patty, I can onlysay "why." '"The Nassau County police were trying today todiscover who stabbed Miss Sullivan 21 times lateMonday or early Tuesday in her room at the nearlydeserted Riggs Hall on this campus on the formerPost estate in the rolling hills of the North Shore."(New York Times, June 20, 1973)Crime Wave on Campus"Officials at the University of California at SantaCruz last week decided to award Alice Liu andRosalind Thorpe their degrees posthumously atgraduation ceremonies in June. Both students weremurdered and their bodies dismembered lastmonth, apparently after being picked up whilehitchhiking between the campus and their apartments."That announcement was a grisly, if extreme, reminder that on many campuses the biggest problemtoday is crime — not student demonstrations or vandalism, but assaults, armed robberies, and rapes.Such incidents have increased on campuses acrossthe country by 50 percent in two years according toJohn W. Powell, Executive Secretary to the International Association of College and UniversitySecurity Directors. Even the 10-foot brick walls ofHarvard Yard have been insufficient to prevent awave of thefts and assaults. Last fall, for example, agang of seven Cambridge youths kicked and beatfreshman Philippe Bennett in the yard, thenassaulted two more students — all within 100 yardsof the university police station. During one recenttwo-week period, Harvard police recorded 42 burglaries of student rooms."Other schools report similar crime waves. AtBoston's Tufts, some 250 thefts of stereos, radios,wallets, typewriters, jewelry, and clothes have beenreported so far this year — already well over the 203reported in the 1971-72 academic year. At PurdueUniversity, thefts have jumped from 300 cases reported in 1965 to 922 last year, and at the Universityof Illinois at Champaign, the value of stolen property has soared remarkably from less than $50,000three years ago to more than $200,00 last year."(Time Magazine, April 2, 1973)Near Campus Crime"... thought of Ann Arbor and Santa Cruz as hotbeds of crime is startling. But there it is in the FBIfigures. Ann Arbor and Santa Cruz rates are aheadof those of Chicago and Washington in burglary andlarceny (the most common crimes); comparable inassault and rape; and clearly behind only in murder,25robbery, and auto theft. Don't forget to lock thedoors when you go to class."(Chicago Tribune, January 16, 1973)The above quoted articles were not included in thisReport to make the point that crime is not aproblem at this University because of events surrounding other campuses. They were included in aneffort to demonstrate some of the combinations offactors that have produced a national phenomenon.While the problem in this and other universitycommunities is serious, it can be attacked by theutilization of a realistic appraisal of the problem asit impacts the local communities, a reasonableamount of caution on the part of the residents of theuniversity communities, and effective law enforcement activities. While the exercising of caution inevitably results in some changes of habit and of lifestyle, the cost of these alterations must be constantlyweighed against the benefits that flow from safetyand freedom from the direct impact of crime.A closing word about the interpretation of thedata seems appropriate. Crime data are typicallyRemarks by CHARLES E. OXNARDSeptember, 1973 .It is my privilege to add my welcome to you all,students and families, to the College of The University of Chicago. In so doing I ought to be able to indicate in some detail the special, even peculiar,nature of this College. But so complex is the organism that we call the College that it is most difficultfor one person, whether or not he is the Dean, tospeak for the whole. And it is even more difficult forone who is only " almost- a-dean." For I do not takeoffice until October the First and in that capacityam as much to be welcomed to the College as any ofyou. However, it is still my duty to provide someskeleton description of the life that you or your sonsand daughters may expect to lead here for someyears.As a scientist I know that my subject progressesthrough the dreaming of hypotheses and throughwakefully proving them wrong. A single fact that secondary and subject to various interpretations.The true magnitude of crime is seldom completelymanifested in statistics (murder is an exception because the average murder results in a body thatmust be somehow explained) because many peoplefail to report crime. A commander in the ChicagoPolice Department in response to my question aboutthe gap between actual and reported crime said thatthe Chicago Police Department rarely solves crimes(thereby preventing future crimes) that aren't reported.If the members of this community assume theirresponsibility more fully and report all crime thatthey have personal knowledge of, the statistics of the21st District will certainly show an increase. In myjudgment, an increase resulting from more completereporting would be a helpful sign in this community's fight against crime.Walter L. Walker is Vice-President for Planningand Professor in the School of Social ServiceAdministration.controverts an idea is more powerful than thethousand that support it. I put it to you that oneaspect of your coming life in the College will be ascientific investigation of a series of hypotheses.For example, as a first hypothesis, it is well knownthat a student may pass through a college withoutever speaking to a professor. I expect that hypothesis to be annulled for you this very day. However, itwill not be so if you do not seek out a professor andspeak to him. And I cannot guarantee that you willreceive an answer.It is well known, also, that the names of internationally-famous scholars are used to attract students to a campus but that the grim reality is thelarge boring class taught by an unqualified and unwilling graduate student, pressed for duty like thesailors of earlier times. If this hypothesis is notdenied within the first week then I hope that you willcome and tell me. We do, of course, use our mostTO THE ENTERING STUDENTS26brilliant scholars for advertisement; but some of youwill nevertheless be taught by such household namesas John Hope Franklin and Milton Friedman.It is well known that a college provides only asecond-hand education derived from dull text booksand duller lectures. Second-hand distillations youwill certainly receive, but they will be leavened bythose directly responsible for first hand advances inknowledge; and to this will be quickly added yourown direct, first-hand attempts at scholarship andresearch. This is, for instance, the University whereDean Albert Crewe first "saw" an atom — with thehelp of two students. On a more modest level, myown studies of the origin of man in Africa have depended upon the guided investigations of a third-year college girl. Many other faculty can make theseclaims. Some of you will be able to cast out thishypothesis, perhaps even within the year.Finally it is well known that you, as entering students, are brilliant beyond your peers and maturebeyond your years. Why else would you have come tothis institution? You and I together, we will be testing out this hypothesis over the next quadrenniurh.Perhaps my own experiences on coming here mayhelp you to realize what this University and thisCollege are like.My wife and I first came to Chicago for an interview for a faculty position during one week in January 1966. The snow was all of three feet deep. Thetemperature oscillated between zero and minus tenthe whole week. Yet my affirmative answer to theUniversity was mailed within three days of returningto England. Why was the decision so easy to make?You may well ask. My wife does not, to this day, remember the decision- making process.The reason for the answer, however, was as clearas the air on those subzero days in Chicago. I hadnot met such an exciting atmosphere anywhere inthe world such as I found here. An utter intangible,you may say. Yes. But it has touched me now forseven years.This same atmosphere permeates the College thatyou are now entering. It has been well described byothers who have said: "The University of Chicago isa research university"; "The business of the University is discovery." And if you feel that this cannotpossibly apply to the College, then you are wrong.We are interested in new knowledge. We wish to beable to share it. We wish to help others learn whatthis knowledge is, so that the process of discoverywill be continued, so that our errors will be corrected, so that our ignorance will be diminished.Because we are interested in research, in problemfinding and solving, and in the scholarship involvedin the recognition of knowledge, we have a specialenvironment for the education of the under graduate.I do not suggest for a moment that, if we concentrate on research, the teaching will take care ofitself. I do not believe that if each faculty memberdoes exactly what he wants that this will make agood curriculum. At a personal level, my own position as Dean is a recognition that my research alonecannot provide the framework within which. I canwork in the College.But I am suggesting that the division, postulatedby so many, between research and teaching, isfalsely conceived. I would go further and affirm that"teaching-and-research" are truly a continuum.This continuum can be thought of as a structurethat includes at its one extreme, the broad, overviewlecture given to 150 persons. Next lies the classroomdiscussion that provides some 30 students with asuccinct exposition of some complex area. Then wefind the seminar to 15 in which problems and difficulties are explored, and next the discussion withfive in which possible future directions are chartedand critically examined. The tutorial, or researchdiscussion with a single student allows recognitionof personal difficulties and personal views. Closelyguiding a single student in introductory research orscholarship, and then more distantly following himonce he is on the right path lie next. The exampleprovided in working at the bench or book by one'sself is a part of this continuum. Until, at the otherextreme, we have the results of years of a scholar'swork being woven into the broad pattern in the overview lecture to 150. This is the reality of the teaching-research continuum. The appearance of twoseparate, antagonistic entities, teaching and research, follows only from the common practice atmany colleges and universities, of omitting thecentral parts. The College here is special because itattempts to provide every element of that spectrum.A second part of the academic atmosphere thatmy wife and I thought we felt in Chicago, relates tothe motives that we thought we discerned. There aremany highly respectable motives that lead us intothe business of discovery. But perhaps three springespecially quickly to mind. The first, without whichthe rest must come to nothing, is intellectualcuriosity, the desire to know and understand more.A second, however, is professional pride, the striving, sometimes unavailingly, to be satisfied withone's performance, the shame that overcomes anycraftsman should his work be unworthy of his talent.A third is ambition, desire for reputation and position, even for some the power, or even the money,which ambition brings.It may be fine to feel, when you have done yourwork, that you have added to the happiness or alleviated the sufferings of others, but that will not be27why you did it. If a sociologist, or a doctor, or a poetwere to tell me that the driving force in his work hadbeen the desire to benefit humanity, then I shouldnot believe it (nor should I think any the better ofhim if I did). His dominant motives would likelyhave been those which I have stated and this is not apopular concept at the present time. But without it,the business of discovery becomes bankrupt.A third part of the atmosphere that we felt whenwe first came to Chicago relates to questions thatmay be asked by the educational process here. Ourstudents seem to arrive here with a number of firmideas. I do not suppose that this group is any different. You already believe, as Dean Hildebrand haspointed out on another occasion, that the socialsciences are the fuzzy studies, where anything goesbecause it cannot be proved wrong. You alreadybelieve that the humanities are inhumane, deridingcreativity and ridiculing poetry by insisting uponcomments upon comments upon comments. Youalready believe that biologists don't care about anything that they can see; the things that they like bestare twisted and invisible. If something is too smalleven to be imagined, then the physical scientists maybecome interested, though they are happiest of allwith anti- matter and black holes. As for mathematicians, well, in the words of Hardy, four hours ofcreative work a day is about the limit.If you know all these things, then you are able tocharacterize accurately the major fields of academiceffort as commonly understood. But if you believethat these parodies, or more seriously, the realitiesthat lie behind them, characterize the whole truth,then you may have difficulties with this College. Forwe are not in business only to present these to you.We are here to pose additional questions.How do those of us whose life interests center onaction within our society, also grasp the beauty,breadth, and impact of science and art upon theirown lives and upon the lives of those around them?How do we stimulate and sustain the humanisticurge in the potential natural and social scientistswithin our College student body?How do we bring the liberal arts of the practical toour budding scholars and investigators?The attempted answering of these questions isalso part of the special nature of this University andthis College. To the extent that we, all of us, recognize these questions, to that extent are we ableto attempt our grander purpose.And when eventually you leave here you will bewell prepared for a number of things that are causefor satisfaction. Still, I have not boasted aboutproducing this or that kind of expert. I have saidnothing about preparing you to be doctors, or lawyers, or poets, or even medical anatomists. I havenot said anything today about preparing you forgraduate school, though many of our students do goon to advanced studies and prove to be well equipped. I am not concerned that you become professional scholars, although I know that many of youwill. Indeed, as Dean Hildebrand once said upon asimilar occasion, we prefer that at least a few of yougo out and make a lot of money, and remember theCollege. But I haven't even talked about preparingyou for that.The next four years are not a period of life to beendured in preparing for anything. They are aperiod that should be enjoyed for its own significance; this enjoyment will continue when your dayshere are long behind you.With this welcome comes also a symbolic parting.Now Parents go one way, students another.Dr. Charles E. Oxnard is Dean of the College. He isProfessor in the Departments of Anatomy, Anthropology, Committee on Evolutionary Biology,and in the College.OMBUDSMAN APPOINTED FOR1973-74 TERMPaul G. Yovovich, an undergraduate student whowill receive his Bachelor's degree in Spring, 1974,has been appointed Student Ombudsman for the1973-74 term. He is the sixth student to hold theposition since it was established in October 1968.The appointment was made by Edward H. Levi,President, on the recommendation of a committee ofthree students, three faculty members, and the Deanof Students.28THE 345TH CONVOCATION ADDRESS:THE COLLEGE AND THE UNIVERSITYINAPREFIGURATIVEAGEBy ARNOLD W. RAVINAugust 31, 1973Earlier in the summer quarter, while you were busyfulfilling the final requirements for the academicdegrees you are being awarded today, I was enjoyingthe unusual experience of attending a conference forsecondary school teachers of the humanities.Neither the purpose of that conference, nor of myparticipation in it, is relevant to the subject on whichI am addressing you today. Yet I want to tell yousomething about that conference, more particularlyabout the site in which it was held, for it provides forme a dramatic image of the crucial situation facingeducation today.The conference took place in St. Mary's College, asmall Catholic liberal arts college in Moraga, California. Moraga lies nestled in a valley separatedfrom the coast by that same range of hills on whosewestern flanks Oakland and Berkeley rise to overseeSan Francisco and its bay. Picture St. Mary's withits back to one side of the valley. This side is gracedby lovely, gently rolling, golden hills adorned hereand there by dense clumps of dark evergreens. It is asplendid sight viewing the white mission-style architecture of St. Mary's against its backdrop of goldand green overhung by a relentlessly blue skyinnocent of cloud or haze. Presumably, not long agoboth sides of the Moraga valley claimed an equalloveliness. If they did, the situation is starkly different today. When one looks out now from St.Mary's to the other side of the valley, one notices thefamiliar rolling shape is there, but upon the flanksof the hills, rising in tiers from the valley floor, areblocks of greyish-brown: redwood-skinned housesniched into the side of the hills like Cubist carvingson the landscape. These must be recently-builthomes, for here and there one can see that they donot quite reach to the hill's top. But ah! there is anearthmover in the vicinity, gouging tiers to the verytop. Soon a home at the hill's peak will go to thehighest bidder. Interesting, one thinks: how longwill St. Mary's side of the valley stay uncovered byredwood split levels? Not long, for if one hikes to thehill's ridge, one sees and hears the tractor, the bull dozer, the earth-mover starting their road-makingforays on the still golden side of the valley.But the tractor's is not the only sound to be heard.Occasionally, one can make out the piercing whinesof buzz-saws. These saws are making a differentchange in the landscape. The pungent eucalyptustrees that spice this region have had a very bad winter. These ancient trees, brought to California in thenineteenth century and now the majestic peers of thearea's evergreen monarchs, were caught this pastyear in a long winter frost, unusual for these parts.Save for some lucky sheltered few, these eucalyptusgiants have already lost too many leaves this year toassure continued survival. Alas, the dying eucalyptus, which had at an earlier time become an integralpart of this northern Californian landscape, must beremoved, for its oily wood is a special hazard in thisarid summer season: it can catch and spread fire ina wild way.Yet here we were, we conferees, dedicating ourthoughts to the teaching of the humanities in thedwindling twentieth century, moving about fromworkshop to panel to lecture scarcely noticing (theeye of a poet at this conference did call it to ourattention) that the landscape was changing on everyside of us, that the Moraga valley in which we wereensconced would look different, would be differentbefore many more students had completed theireducations. To stretch the metaphor a bit further:intent we were upon the preservation and cultivationof the humanities as the human environment itselfwas undergoing physical remodeling.This scene, this changing scene, is an especiallyvivid reminder for me of the significant culturalchange that is taking place in the human species. AsMargaret Mead tells us in "Culture and Commitment," for most of man's history succeeding generations prepared themselves for the same kind ofworld known to their elders. This is not surprisingsince the very model of that world was transmittedas a cultural heritage from grandparents to parentsto children. Changes in the world were so slow thatthey could be integrated into the model of what theworld was like and of how one should behave in it,29with the result that succeeding generations believedthe world was fundamentally no different from theone of their ancestors. This was the post-figurativeage, the age that provides us with the classic idea ofculture as the extragenetic and unidirectional flow,by oral and written language, from an older to ayounger generation of the models, myths, and toolsof the past. With the capacity for changing the environment by the technological prowess that ascientific and industrial revolution made possible,with the concomitant rise of the idea of progresswhich encouraged social mobility, emigration,man's contesting a static conceptualization of theworld, the post-figurative age came to an end.In the past few generations, at least in theWestern world, a co- figurative manner of culturaltransmission has been developing: in new settings,where the conditions and values their elders knew nolonger existed, children have been learning what theworld is like from their peers. Yet, according toMargaret Mead, even before co-figurative cultureshave had a chance to endure for as long as the post-figurative ones have, a new form of cultural transmission is already upon us. The prefigurative age ishere with the old supposedly learning from theyoung: the world is now changing so rapidly, thereseems to be little about the world in which parentshave lived and suffered that their children willactually come to know. When my parents wereborn, intercontinental means of travel by airplaneand of communication by radio, television, or satellite were undreamed of. Interplanetary travel was adream, but only of the fantastic sort. The blessingand the curse of atomic energy were unconceived,and the revolution in the medical sciences that hasvastly altered human longevity and fecundity wasbarely anticipated. This is a different world fromthat in which my parents grew up, indeed in which Igrew up. How can my parents' world be a fit modelby which to govern my life? How can you even anticipate the world of your children?Whatever may be said for Mead's thesis that theworld of the parents is no longer credibly the worldof the children, there is some reason to doubt thatthe direction of cultural transmission has actuallyreversed itself: that the young are, in any autonomous sense, the teachers of the old. If the traditionof The University of Chicago can still serve as anyguide these days, many of you graduates will becometeachers — that is, unless the direction of culture has indeed been reversed, many of you, byaspiration or by the unforeseen evolution of humanlife, are teachers-to-be. Surely, then, you have aninterest in the future of education in an age in whichthe parents' model of the world can no longerreasonably be expected to be the model of the worldfor their children. What we can do and what we ought to do in aparticular predicament are sometimes illuminatedby consideration of how we have reached our presentstate of affairs. Like life, culture evolves, and likethe evolution of living things in general, the evolution of man has been characterized by increase incomplexity. Before the appearance of a living cell onthis planet, there must have been an increase in sizeand complexity of chemical compounds and ofaggregates of macromolecules. With the origin ofmacromolecular aggregates that could assure somedegree of reproduction and adaptation, the firstcells appeared. Eventually the formation of cellularaggregates, and of functional differentiation withinthose aggregates, made possible the organization ofmulticellular organisms whose survival and reproduction depend upon the complex but harmoniousinterplay of differentiated parts, the cells that areintegrated into new and larger wholes. Similarly, theorigin of aggregations of organisms of the same kindfor whatever advantages such assembly conferred,made possible experimentation with complexgroups consisting of functionally differentiated individuals interacting to the benefit of the continuityof the groups as larger wholes. In the social groupsfrom which man descended, culture appeared whenconscious thought, conceptualization, and symboliclanguage combined to provide means of inter-generational transfer of the experiences of the past.Thanks to cultural heritage, man evolves moreswiftly than he could as an animal species subjectonly to the unconscious selection of random geneticchanges. For, by means of culture, the evaluated experiences and tested models of the past are not lostand needing of rediscovery in the present or future.Science and technology are among the fruits ofcultural evolution, and they, of course, have enabledeven a swifter pace of change. And all of this changein man, too, is accompanied by a gain of complexity.For the total knowledge of mankind, the cumulativeexperience and understanding of the species — oreven of a particular society — is not possessed by anyone individual. As knowledge accumulates, broadens, and grows more complex in an organizationalsense, it is increasingly distributed with decreasingfractions of the whole held by individual men.As an illustration of the fractionated distributionof complex knowledge, let me cite the familiar experience of scientists. As a scientist today intensifieshis study in a limited domain of natural phenomena,he often experiences the need for new techniques ornew insights from other fields in order to make anyfurther advance in his understanding of his ownfield. Thus, it happens that a mature scientist turnsto his younger colleagues in the laboratory for thediscovery of, and eventually instruction in, knowledge from other fields that can be applied to his30field of interest. The younger colleague being morerecently trained is the purveyor of scientific cultureto his elders. Yet, as he matures, the early breadth ofthe young scientist too will be defeated by thespecialization of his search and the profundity of hisanalysis. If I could draw a two-dimensional graphwith distance along the horizontal axis indicatingbreadth of knowledge and height along the verticalaxis indicating advancing age of the individual, Iwould draw a narrowly sharpening spire as it risesabove an initially broad base. The form of the spirewould differ, of course, according to the individual,not only in respect to the rate of sharpening, but alsoin respect to the direction the spire takes or out ofwhich section of the base the spire arises.On the face of it, the illustration I have just givenof the mature scientist learning from his juniorcolleague would appear to support Mead's implication that the direction of culture has reversed itself.Yet further reflection reveals that this is not so. Forconsider: how did the young scientist receive thebroad reservoir of knowledge upon which both heand his senior colleague could draw? Indeed, whatmakes it possible for every individual to begin hislife with a relatively broad base, encompassing if notall of human experience and knowledge, a relativelywide swathe of it? This would not be possible if therewere not some means of flow to the base, so that it isregenerated for the species as a whole however itmay be dissipated by the individual in his lifetime.How may we expect the college and the universityto participate in the regeneration of this base oflearning and growth? The university must be regarded as a collection of spires, towers of specializedknowledge. But it does not suffice for the denizensof those towers to transmit their newly- acquiredknowledge to the young for the base upon which intellectual growth depends to be regenerated. No,this way fragmented knowledge at the tips of thetowers will remain fragmented at the base, and therewill be nothing to prevent isolation and confusion bythe compartmentalization of knowledge in uncoordinated communities. There is clearly a need for acadre of individuals whose task is to regenerate thebase, to create the base for each new generation.This can only be done by perspective of the towers,and by novel integrations of knowledge, integrationsthat are not simply the unassimilated collections ofthe knowledge at the peaks of spires. The activity ofthese cadres itself creates knowledge, for it forgesnew connections, creates new syntheses; it trims andpatterns. This cannot simply be the work of theunborn, the recently born, or the very young. Thearrow of culture has not changed direction so thatthe base for human development can be altered bythose who are not yet here or by those who are not yet physically or intellectually equipped. One mustentertain knowledge, hold it or assimilate it, beforeone can shape it.If the university is the ensemble of towers andspires, it is surely the college that is the cadre working at the base — that is, if it takes its work seriously.If it takes its work seriously, the college is no meretransmitter of the shouts coming from the spires. Itmust ask: Where do we stand now? In what wayshas the total human landscape changed, or is changing, in directions we desire, in directions we don'tdesire? Given where we are and what we are, with allof our limitations and potentialities, where do wewant to go? Why? How do we do it? What newknowledge do we need; what old knowledge can beapplied afresh to the situation; what old knowledgecan be placed in abeyance? In asking, it shapes andreorganizes the base.This questioning cadre, this creative college, ofwhat does it consist? The students, of course, yes.They have matured, or should have matured,enough to handle knowledge, to probe critically, andyet remain undifferentiated enough to keep wideperspectives in their ken. But is there a function forteachers, and if so, from what ranks should they bedrawn? The teachers in the cadre are needed as thetransmitters of the old base, or the base in process ofrevision, and they are needed as catalysts of the review and synthesis that the college will undertake.Perhaps some of these teachers can be expected todevote their lives and the totality of their energies tothe work distinctive of the college. But many moreshould at least occasionally be drawn from the pen-nanted pinnacles of the university towers themselves. Who are better prepared than the specialistsof the spires to add what is truly new to the base inreconstruction? But we can imagine better reasonsfor the recruitment of specialists for the work of thecollege. Who are more needy for at least temporaryrepose from their specialized labors to contemplatethe broader significance, if any, of what they haveaccomplished; to seek the connections between theknowledge they have gained and the knowledgeacquired by specialists in other fields; and finally toexamine how all of what we now know of the worldfits with what we seek for the human species? Thespecialist learns from his colleagues in the college aswell as from his challenging students. The generations meet in the college, and if they take their workseriously, there is constructive interaction on behalfof the larger community to which they belong. Inthis undertaking humility is a necessary condition,for there is nothing about the cultural history ofman to assure us that the reorganization of humanknowledge and its application to the human condition can only solve existing problems without creat-31ing new ones. Yet that seems to be man's state: he isobliged to be a conscious participant in his ownevolution without possessing complete, absoluteknowledge on the basis of which he can finally andautonomously determine, however gradually, hisown fate.If you claim that I have idealized the concept ofthe college, you are right. I know of no college, inthis or other countries, that succeeds in its undertaking as I have described it. Alas, not even here atThe University of Chicago. The setting up of amodel or ideal, however, does have the advantage ofproviding criteria by which to judge our performance. If you have noticed, too, that my ideal ofthe college is a microcosm of the ideal society inwhich different generations and differentiated individuals interact for the adaptation of the socialorganism, I confess that I have also noticed it. Thecollege, if it takes its work seriously, may be animportant instrument, and perhaps one of the fewinstruments, available for the inter- generationalcoping with a prefigurative age.I am not advocating a wholesale abandonment ofthe functions of the university in favor of an all-consuming preoccupation with the concerns of thecollege. I am suggesting that each of us, teacher ornot, belongs to an invisible college and to aninvisible university. To that university he owes theconscientious development of the particular abilitieswhich differentiate him from his peers. To thatcollege he owes the conscious concern with therelation between the fruits of his own developmentand those of a larger community. The teachersamong you have already known, or will soon come toknow, that tension of which I speak. In whateverOctober 26, 1973I hope that you will bear with me first in a personalword. For its expression leads to a consideration ofthings that seem to be central to the College and indeed to the University itself. institutional setting you may happen to work, thereis, in a broad sense, a call from the university and acall from the college. Each must be given its due.That tension may have become intensified in ourprefigurative age. But it can be escaped only at ourcommon peril.Arnold W. Ravin is Professor in the Departments ofBiology and Microbiology, in the Committees onEvolutionary Biology, Genetics, and the ConceptualFoundations of Science, and in the College.SUMMARY OF THE 345THCONVOCATIONThe 345th Convocation was held on Friday, August31, 1973, in Rockefeller Memorial Chapel. John T.Wilson, Provost, presided.A total of 620 degrees were awarded: 40 Bachelorof Arts, 2 Bachelor of Science, 168 Master of Arts,37 Master of Science, 26 Master of Science inTeaching, 17 Master of Arts in Teaching, 183 Master of Business Administration, 1 Master of Comparative Law, 2 Doctor of Law, 1 Doctor ofMedicine, and 143 Doctor of Philosophy.Arnold W. Ravin, Professor in the Departmentsof Biology and Microbiology, delivered the Convocation Address entitled "The College and the University in a Prefigurative Age."THE 346TH CONVOCATION ADDRESS:I approach my new responsibilities with naturalemotions of honor and pride. But you must alsounderstand that a primary feeling I have is one offear. Is it healthy, is it good for the College, that itsnew Dean should be afraid?THE COLLEGE: CONTINUITY AND CONFUSIONBy CHARLES E. OXNARD32With a glitter of sparkling ex-deans before me, Ithink you would understand if I were afraid of beingunable to provide service of the caliber that theUniversity has received from them. But this is not animportant fear; deans come and can go; and theCollege continues.I think that you would also understand if I wereafraid that these new responsibilities might interferewith the life that is so important to me, my wife andchildren and our home. We are, together, willing totake that chance.The fear that I have is very different and it pinpoints the special nature of this University and thisCollege. It is the fear that I see reflected in the eyesof my graduate students who must wonder, fromtime to time, if they will be left high and dry on theacademic beach. It is the fear that I may be unableto continue my own scholarly work into the problems of the science of biological form and the evolution of man. It is the fear that, within this University, its own College shall cease to be represented bya working scholar.For our College has always been interested notonly in the transmission of knowledge, but in its interpretation and in its discovery. It is the unity ofthese three things that forms the commitment of thefaculty of this institution today — a commitment toliberal education of the highest standards at boththe undergraduate and graduate level. Let there beno mistake, this was also the commitment of theCollege of yesterday. However much mechanism andprocess may produce changes, and we are surelyproud that our College has changed, there can be notampering with the goals. Even at a time when thereis a loud cry from those who insist that universitiesare machines for service, instantly malleable, to beused in whatever ways seem necessary for the immediate interests of a larger community, the University and the College must continue to stand by thecommitment to the intellectual search for truth, thethoughtful evaluation of new knowledge, and the reaffirmation of knowledge through learning. Indeed,the pressures for the twisting of our purpose must beever more strongly resisted, for the special nature ofthis institution has always been that it is not afraidto follow what it believes to be true, whether popularor unpopular at any given time. Only thus can someof our highest values be preserved during the darkperiod which it seems that higher education hasentered at the present time.And therefore we can return to that time slice ofthe College that is represented by the College of yesterday. F. Champion Ward, in a book publishedmore than two decades ago, wrote about generaleducation at the College of The University ofChicago. The piece that I would like to read to you indicates that at that time Champion Ward knewthat the College had often been misunderstood. Hedescribes a series of misconceptions about what theCollege is and what it is trying to do:"At present, these misconceptions appear to restupon a number of confusions: confusions betweenthe College of The University of Chicago and St.John's College in Annapolis, Maryland; between theCollege of The University of Chicago and TheUniversity of Chicago's 'Great Books' program foradults; between what Chancellor Hutchins has saidabout Bachelors of Arts and what he has said aboutDoctors of Philosophy; between liberal and aristocratic education; between informed and whimsicalacademic and vocational choices; between interdisciplinary courses which are now given in theCollege and 'survey' courses; between students whoare interested in their studies and students whowork too hard; confusions even, between not playingintercollegiate football and not playing football atall."Thus spoke a percipient Dean. I am happy toreport that confusions are still with us and theyrepresent some of the ways in which the Collegecontinues to progress.There is a major confusion about what is teachingand what is research. The demands of state legislatures and other such types of university rulingbodies regarding teaching loads in many institutions, even in some of the best institutions in thisland, confuse the basic unity of research and teaching. At this University and in this College werecognize clearly that research and teaching are nottwo different and mutually exclusive entities. Theyare merely the names, springing from a typologicaltrain of thought, for a single structure — the research — teaching continuum. This continuum canbe thought of as a structure that includes at its oneextreme, the broad, overview lecture given to 150persons. Next lies the classroom discussion thatprovides some 30 students with a succinct expositionof some complex area. Then we find the seminar to15 in which problems and difficulties are explored,and next the discussion with five in which possiblefuture directions are charted and criticallyexamined. The tutorial, or research discussion witha single student allows recognition of personal difficulties and personal views. Closely guiding a singlestudent in introductory research or scholarship, andthen more distantly following him once he is on theright path lie next. The example provided in work atthe bench or book by one's self is a part of this continuum. Until, at the other extreme, we have theresults of years of a scholar's work being woven intothe broad pattern in the overview lecture to 150.This is the reality of the teaching- research33continuum. And it is only if faculty and studentstruly believe that this continuum exists, it is only iffaculty and students actually practice what theybelieve, that the highest purposes of the Universityand the College can be achieved. And although theCollege today is not perfect, very significantnumbers of the University community do indeedtalk and act the teaching- research continuum. Longmay there be confusion about what is research andwhat is teaching.There is a major confusion between who areCollege faculty and who University. Yesterday'sCollege consisted of a relatively small group ofsuperb scholars, dedicated to the ideal of generaleducation and with that structure it was rather easyto see who were, and who were not, the College. Buttoday the knowledge explosion has made the task ofproviding superb general education an impossibilityfor the few, however dedicated they may be. It nowrequires the many, from all over the University, to,produce the new knowledge, to reinterpret it inthe light of the old, and to integrate it into the verybasis for the transmission of knowledge. Before theenormous growth of knowledge of latter years wemay feel it entirely appropriate for Rutherford tohave said (at least it is popularly attributed to him)that "an alleged scientific discovery has no merit unless it can be explained to a barmaid." In fact Einstein had already shown years before this allegedstatement, in employing the geometrical concept ofcurved space and the universal idea of space-time,that new knowledge is unlikely to be so simple andmust, at least in part, be explained and interpretedby those who are responsible for it, who participatein it. For these reasons, then, the College is slowlypushing outwards, some thick, strong branches,some as yet fine tendrils, into the graduate divisions,nay even into the very limits of the professionalschools. And lest anyone think that I am speaking interritorial acquisitive terms let me make it clear thatthis process could not go on unless there were areciprocal reaching deep into the College from thegraduate divisions and even from within the farreaches of the professional schools. And let us alsobe clear what I am not talking about. I am notspeaking of the participation of the graduatedivisions and professional schools through pre-professional education; though that is important,and we must look to the problems that it raises, I amessentially noting the genuine participation of theseparts of the University in the business of generaleducation. This, most of all, is what creates theconfusion between who is College and whoUniversity. May that confusion long endure.There is a growing confusion between where aBachelor's degree stops and where a higher degree starts, and with this there is confusion as to whatmaterials belong where in the educational process.This manifestation is clearly present in our recognition of the New Collegiate Division. Its own Masterhas designated the position of this Collegiate Division as "interestingly ambiguous." But the veryexistence of this special division, and the truly cross-disciplinary nature of the offerings which it makes,is central to the idea of flexibility in general education. It has lead to the realization of concentrationprograms in "Politics, Economics, Rhetoric andLaw: Liberal Arts of the Practical," and in"Religion and the Humanities"; this idea is spreading to other collegiate divisions, for example, theconcentration programs in "Human Behavior andInstitutions" — vital signs of our commitment togrowth, research, and excellence in liberal education. In a similar manner the evolution of combineddegree programs can, when it is done well, representa genuine fusion of what have often been thought tobe separate educational areas. For it is clear that ifwe are to provide the best education through theCollege as a liberal education, it is also clear thatour graduate divisions and professional schoolsshould be trying to avoid the trap of the tradeschool; they too are attempting to provide the broadgeneral education that is the best basis for theeducated professional. Thus, with only slightly different orientations, both College and University aretrying to do the same thing. It is not surprising,therefore, that the boundary between the two shouldbecome fuzzy.Again, however, let it be clear what I am not saying. Flexibility can be a nebulous void where thestudent calls out like a lost soul for form and substance. Cross-disciplinary courses and concurrentdegree programs are not media solely for theshortening of time spent in residence. Save in theabstract, there is no enthusiasm among concernedfaculty and students for shortening either college oruniversity programs for their own sake. This is notjust a matter of inertia; it is a genuine fondness andconcern for quality in our educational offering. Butwhere cross-disciplinary courses and combineddegree programs can lead on to useful academicends, to improving both collegiate and universityofferings, to elimination of genuine overlaps andredundancies, to revealing new juxtapositions of oldknowledge, then they may be of value and we aremoving in those directions. This set of confusionsmay be most useful.There is even confusion about the student endeavor within the University. When does a studentstart original research and scholarship? Clearly, thisis the core for the graduate student. To what extentshould undergraduates also participate? To what34extent can we say that the undergraduate receives abroad liberal education when he or she partakes ofsome small piece of research in the laboratory of animmunopathologist (which is done) or when he orshe works on some piece of criticism of Frenchmedieval poetry (which does occur). Of course, thisconfusion should never arise within The Universityof Chicago. An understanding of the processes bywhich knowledge advances is the essence of a broadgeneral education, and what better way to obtainthis than by the first-hand method of doing it foroneself. But this confusion exists strongly in theminds of many outside the University who can not,or will not, see that general education includesdeciding what are problems and how they may betackled, together with capability in attacking them.This blindness may, if current trends go theirpresent way, result in a period of American life inwhich her society will be bereft of highly qualifiedindividuals to grapple with her society's problems.That a general education provides a student withtechnical knowledge for seeing problems as theycurrently exist in a given area is relatively unimportant. That an excellent general education adds to hisor her abilities for problem-solving, to see the widevariety of very different problems that will face us allover a lifetime, is of far greater significance. It is good that undergraduate programs should be confused enough that undergraduates should doresearch. It is bad that many elements of the outsideworld should be confused about the good of this.And so we can see that Campion Ward's confusions still exist. In large part they are a measure ofwhat is special about this University and thisCollege. They can be exemplified best of all by theconfusion that has recently occurred among theexternal news media; they do not appear to havebeen able to see the difference between a concentration in PERL and a course on Watergate.Time was: and the College comprised a distinctand closely knit unit of excellent faculty andimaginative programs; and we are very proud ofthat. Time is: and the College is becoming inextricably linked with the unity of the University; andwe are proud of that. Time will be: and we cannottell what the College may become; but we can reaffirm that whatever it will be, we will remain committed to the highest ideals of general education; wecan be proud of that.vDr. Charles E. Oxnard is Dean of the College. He isProfessor in the Departments of Anatomy andAnthropology, the Committee on EvolutionaryBiology, and in the College.THE 346TH CONVOCATION ADDRESS:KNOWING IN CEREMONYBy WAYNE C. BOOTHOctober 26, 1973When I was in college I was sure of a lot of things,among them the notion that ceremonies like thiswere silly, too much like the funeral Huck Finndescribes as all full of tears and flapdoodle. I stayedaway from funerals and convocations with equalpleasure, knowing that my boycott expressed thebattle of reason against the shoddy emotionalism ofthe booboisie. Taught in part by Robert MaynardHutchins' epistles to the Philistines, I had come tobelieve that the proper business of a college wastraining the intellect to wrestle greatly with great ideas as found in the great books. From what I hadseen of ceremonies, I knew that whatever else theydid, they did not train the mind to wrestle with greatideas. Ceremonies in my experience uniformly boredme. Academic ceremonies were the worst kind of all,because they added hypocrisy to boredom, pompand circumstance to the tears and flapdoodle.Everyone who thought about it knew that the truespirit of the academy was violated by these mindless,sentimental marchings, in medieval- dress, thesehandings out of sheepskin inscribed in gothicletters that many students could not even read and35none could duplicate, these mumblings throughmalfunctioning loud-speakers, these cliche-ladenspeeches that said once again what everyone hadheard dozens of times before.Thirty years have of course produced exactly whatthat young man I was predicted would happen toeverybody but himself: I have sold out. I now believein ceremony, and to my then self it would be obviousthat I have lost my intellectual ideals, have becometamed, institutionalized, reconciled to the sentimentand intellectual flaccidity that must inevitably markceremonial moments. From his point of view theworst thing of all is that though I now enjoy ceremonies I cannot, even now, claim that they are interesting. They are still inherently boring, just as hebelieved, as intellectually flat as a lecture on typingtechnique.Some of you may not know about the newacademic unit on campus, the Rhetorical Effectiveness Computations Center, established with a largegrant from the National Endowment for theHumanities. The Fellows of RECC recently conducted a study of our Convocations, proving that99.77 of all who attend could not tell afterward asingle idea that the speaker talked about; and thisfigure proved to be reliable at the .001 level! Seventeen percent of all parents fall asleep during theceremony, on average, and four percent of all students — more of them stay awake, we hypothesize,because they are trying to remember which handtakes off the hat and which reaches for the diploma.For alumni over 50, the figure is 76 percent. Wecould not get corresponding figures on facultymembers, because they have cultivated the skill offalling asleep with their eyes open. All of whichwould seem to prove that my young self was right;ceremonies like this are anti-intellectual, and thosewho have today boycotted this one in order to read agood book are the true defenders of what the collegestands for, while we are the Philistines who requirequarterly doses of a kind of cheap emotional sweetening to go with our intellectual pills. Not that thesweetening is all that sweet. Traditional cultures hadceremonies that were sweetened with words testedthrough time, words sifted by generation after generation who had come to know in their bones whatgood words were. We who are ashamed of the ritualized have all decided that only a new, individual,and essentially improvised word will be genuine,with the result that everyone today has the privilegeof listening not — for example — to the words of theKing James Bible or the Latin Vulgate or the Bookof Common Prayer or something from Erasmus orNewman on liberal education, but to the undeath-less prose of Oxnard and Booth.This is perhaps hardly the occasion for my pro found historical analysis of the invention of theconcept of Boredom. You will not find it in the syn-topicon of the world's great ideas, but its invention,somewhere between Homer and Lord Bryon, constitutes one of the great turning points in history. Igive you only a fragment of what promises tobecome an extensive monograph.Before the romantic individual was invented,people suffered from things like tedium vitae,melancholia, the spleen, or ennui, all of them internal conditions. The Copernican Revolution occurredwhen people began blaming everybody but themselves for their condition. The first Englishman touse bore as a transitive verb was apparently EarlCarlisle, in 1768, and as you would expect, he andhis contemporaries blamed it all on the French: itwas "the French bore" and it was Frenchmen whobored. I perhaps should remind you that this was inthe last stages of pre-romanticism, the period that Ihave now traced back to early Euripides. Withinanother 50 years the notion was fully developed thatboredom was what the world threatened cleverpeople with. As Lord Byron put it: "Society is nowone polished horde,/Formed of two mighty tribes,the bores and bored."Roughly paralleling this not quite finished history, I am writing two others, which unfortunately Ialso can only summarize here: histories of the words"interested" and a group of ceremonial words. Asthe causes of tedium moved outward, so did thecauses of its opposite, and people more and moreasked the world to interest them by being novel, surprising, or relevant. The first really clear recordeduse of "interesting" in the sense of something in theexternal world being interesting in our sense, isagain — as you might predict — just at the beginningof the Romantic period, by my old friend LaurenceSterne.Meanwhile all external events which were not interesting were suffering a decline. From my monograph on words like ceremony, ritual, tradition, andauthority, I mention only the word most pertinent toour inquiries today; ceremony, which began its decline at least as early as the Renaissance. I spareyou, for example, most of my 17 quotations fromShakespeare, all of them in some sense derogatory,as for exampleWhen love begins to sicken and decay,It useth an enforced ceremony —and that other one, slightly paraphrasedWhat have academics that laymen have nottoo,Save ceremony, save general ceremony.It is scarcely surprising that people enjoying anewly discovered individualism, demanding of theworld that it be interesting, discovering that in fact36the world bored them — it is not surprising, I say thatslick people should have embarked on a 500 yearlong effort designed to destroy all boringceremonies. Why should we bright ones beperiodically trapped among these impossibly dullpeople on this insufferable occasion, when we mightbe off learning something bright, shining, and new?A ceremony cannot, by definition, be bright, shining, and new.It is thus only for those whose cultural habits leadthem to seek other forms of engagement than simplybeing interested by something novel that ceremonieswill not raise the question of boredom at all. Presumably I preach here to the converted — we havemade our choice this morning, the choice of a boringceremony. Our ceremonial engagement is opposedto boredom not by being interesting but by beingactive — not by startling us out of old errors but byreaffirming old truths. But of course old truths canbecome again interesting when they have been forgotten, and perhaps if I say them aggressivelyenough, we may manage a bit of interesting controversy even on this boring ground.One modernist dogma teaches that there is onlyone kind of knowledge, the kind that can be clearlystated and precisely proved by logical or experimental processes. It is a dogma that has been attackedso often and so cogently in recent years that itshould need no more attack from me here. (I saythis, knowing that a good many of you have nottaken these recent attacks seriously; but perhapsyou will politely pretend with me that all of us herehave recently reconsidered the empiricist and logistical dogmas that made our minds and our universities what they are — reconsidered them not in thesense of rejecting their usefulness for some kinds ofinquiry, but in the sense of deciding that there are,after all, many logics and many languages, that weknow, as Polanyi says, far more than we can tell,that no one of us in any field, however "hard" ascience it may seem to be, could function withoutforms of knowing that we cannot prove by ourstandard tests.)I invite you, then, to a few moments of communaltesting of the knowledge we enact here: we act outhere what we know, and what we know together aswe act together is a curious fusion of fact and value,of theory and practice, of pure and applied, ofknowing, doing, and making. It is, in short, a fusionthat, once brought to light, should make ourempiricist ancestors, from Hume to BertrandRussell, turn in their graves.What we know here, and cannot prove except onthis kind of proving ground, I summarize underthree fact-values, or valued-facts. Perhaps we cansee these most clearly if we perform a little mental experiment. Imagine one of those little one-eyedgreen men people have been seeing, some creaturefrom outer space who knows nothing about us,accidentally dropping in this morning. Thenimagine that by the end of this hour he somehow hasbeen able to take in as much of this occasion as youyourself. What would he know, at the end, know inthe sense of being unable to find good reasons fordoubt about it, that he did not know at thebeginning? He will have come to know the knowledge we enact here.He would know first what we all know, that thisCollege is a good thing to have. The word collegedramatizes this knowledge of a valued-fact in itsvery meaning. The word connotes for everyone aplace where various values meet: the value of cultivating minds and the value of doing that cultivating collegially. In anything that can be called acollege, men and women do not pursue someabstraction called ideas or the mind in isolationfrom other people. Though much of the hard workmust be done in privacy, we here pursue truth collegially, and in doing so we come to know the valueof doing so. I remember in the time of our greatstudent troubles, in 1969, that a student in PierceTower told me angrily that some of the professorshad violated their principles by becoming just aspassionate in defending the University as the students were in attacking it. There had been talk ofburning the rare book room — now my new office —and some of us had become very angry about thattalk. "You pretend to be men of reason," the student said, "but you just act blindly out of love forthis place." But of course that is what he shouldhave expected of us. Though we don't talk a lotabout love of learning and love of the College, excepton these mindless occasions, love is an integral partof our intellectual commitment. We know the valueof the College in that love, and we celebrate it here.Second, we know here the value of the past, of thefacts of our tradition, of what other minds have donefor us by thinking before us. In enacting this knowledge, we know our own total inability to begin everything new; we think, at our best and at our worst,with minds that are inherited; we work together in aCollege we did not invent, in a University that wouldbe nothing without its traditions. And we know thatif any one of us were left on our own, to think andlearn entirely in privacy, we would never come tothink the bold, original, independent thoughts wenow think, every hour on the hour. We know, in thisceremony, that we do not need any other reason forcontinuing these ceremonial trappings than thatmen and women we respect have found them valuable in the past. Tradition is for us here a goodreason — now there's a truth that would really have37shocked my younger self: "Tradition is a goodreason!" When we have better reasons to changewhat our predecessors did and said, of course we willfeel free to do so, but we will not change what theydid and said for the sole reason that someone asksus for proof that what they did and said was worthy.That they did it and said it — hard valued facts inour experience — will carry more weight than anyabstract principle about doubting everything thatwe cannot prove, or about the importance of changeand novelty.Third, in this experience we know that knowledgeand experience are not sharply and finally separable. A college is a place where knowledge is pursuedin concert, in the experience of trying it out on otherpeople. This College is perhaps unique in the vigorwith which it has sought ways of ensuring that everyidea meets its clarifying and possibly destructivechallenge as soon as it is conceived — or, as it sometimes feels, even sooner. It is no accident, comrades,that John Dewey lived and flourished here. Dewey'sgreat polemic against fixed dichotomies of fact andvalue, theory and experience, action and passion,ends and means, truths and action, art and practicality, has by no means come to the end of itsinfluence. But I challenge anyone to distinguish inDewey's thought what is peculiarly his from what isMead's, and what is Mead's from what was in theair in Chicago at the time both men did their mostseminal work. This College in this University bringstogether the most thoughtful men and women it canattract, and it provides space where the business isvisibly, inescapably, the experience of ideas, the testing of ideas not just for their abstract logical coherence but for their ability to persuade otherinquiring minds and hearts. Here we shape ourideas in order to do justice not simply to how theylook on a page, not simply to where they lead in theideal world, but to how they feel when tested by aqualified public in a proper public place.We celebrate today the establishment of a newpublic place, a new forum for collegiate testing ofour gropings for truth. We celebrate an ideal, butunlike the kind of idealism I deplored just now, oursis an idealism that never shrinks from an open testing. It is an ideal that is always under attack, oftenfrom those who look and act like friends of theacademy and who think of themselves as scholarsand teachers. The most serious attack recently hascome, it seems to me, from a subtle, unspoken kindof pseudo-professionalism that seduces scholars intothinking that they do not have time for collegiality.How can I take time to teach Plato to freshmenwhen I am threatened by those three other people inthe world who, like me, have specialized in the history of Singapore from 1910 to 1914 — or the history of the word "boredom"? How can you ask meto work up a competence in Shakespeare orDostoevsky when my book on the Novels of SamuelWarren is still unfinished, and my tenure decisioncomes up next year? The new Dean and the newMasters will find, as did the old, that greater thanany other single obstacle to a proper use of our newpublic space is a drive among scholars to escape thatspace to serve another and smaller, and often lesscritical, public, or to escape public testing entirely. Iam not trying to assign moral blame. This is not asubject on which we can indulge in easy recriminations. As one who holds a much-valuedprivate office in Regenstein and a very public officein Harper, I see a genuine and productive tensionbetween those two spaces. But it is a tension that canbe destructive as well.It says a great deal about this University that wehave this new space to dedicate to collegiality, thatthousands of us, and particularly those faced withhard financial decisions, have seen it appropriate tospend our substance not only on magnificentresources for private study and for specialized testing of ideas but also on equally splendid resourcesfor public testing in a space where specialists cometogether to make an undergraduate College.* * *Our unidentified man from outer space knows allthis, somehow, about this College and University, ashe leaves this gathering. He has discovered a truththat he could not have learned in other forms ofproving — a truth that might seem full of anomaliesto anyone who thinks that truth and knowledge arelimited to the deductively or quantitatively provable.The College is the beloved home of those who askuncomfortable questions about love and homes; theemotional center of some who claim that emotionsare or can be the enemy of the intellect; the source ofcommunal norms for those who would argue thatcommunal norms are essentially irrational, unprovable, and finally not subject to cognitive inquiry. Butof course it is also the home of those who raiseuncomfortable questions about uncomfortablequestions. In a curious way, a ceremony of this kind,however emotional it may be for some, becomes forall, in its own way, a raising of questions. It is, if Iam right, even a kind of thought: a boring kind, trueenough, for those who seek novelty, because all of itsquestions and answers are old as the hills. But ourman from Mars knows, along with all these otherdiscoveries tested here today, that being ceremonialtogether can be a way of knowing each other, ofknowing that we all possess together these largelytacit kinds of knowing. To be bored is to wish that38someone would say something new. But to beengaged in enacting old truths is to experiencesomething beyond interest or boredom: it is to perform, with emotion, one more cognitive act in thegreat true drama of the College.Wayne C. Booth is the George M. Pullman Professor in the Department of English and the College,and Chairman of the Committee on Ideas andMethods.SUMMARY OF THE 346THCONVOCATIONThe 346th Convocation was held on Friday, October26, in Rockefeller Memorial Chapel. PresidentEdward H. Levi presided.Four honorary degrees were awarded at thisspecial Convocation which was part of the re-dedication observance of the undergraduate College at theUniversity.Dr. Charles E. Oxnard, Dean of the College, Professor in the Departments of Anatomy and Anthropology, the Committee on Evolutionary Biology, andin the College, and Wayne C. Booth, the George M.Pullman Professor in the Department of Englishand the College, and Chairman of the Committee onIdeas and Methods, delivered the ConvocationAddresses. Dr. Oxnard's address was entitled, "TheCollege: Continuity and Confusion"; Mr. Booth'saddress was entitled, "Knowing In Ceremony." THE 347TH CONVOCATION ADDRESS:RITES OF PASSAGEBy WILLIAM H. McNEILLDecember 14, 1973Thirty-five and one-half years ago I walked downthe aisle of this chapel, heard Mr. Hutchins intonethe ritual phrase — "By the authority vested in me bythe Board of Trustees ..." and graduated alongwith scores of others. I remember the occasion — ormoments of it — with complete clarity, just as I hopeeach of you who re-enacts that role this day willremember it 35 years hence.But I recall absolutely nothing of the Convocationaddress; and that, I suspect, is the normal andnatural fate of all suitably sensible assaults upon theobvious.Why then bother with a speech at all? Why not goaway after the award of degrees? Indeed, whytrouble to stage a graduation ceremony in the firstplace? Why indeed? Many students and facultydoubt its worth and stay away; but you have comeand presumably expect something from this occasion. Rightly so, for it is one of the rites of passagethat our society recognizes, symbolizing transitionfrom one stage of life to another, from the status ofstudent and apprentice in learned and professionalpursuits to a status that is more advanced — eithermore fully, or entirely, adult. And, as in othersocieties, part of the requirement for such a rite isduration — and at least some mild discomfort; thatis, a suitable and sufficient period of constraint andrestraint. To put it plainly, the means custom hasdecreed to grave this occasion more deeply in yourmemories is to keep you here, seated on hardbenches, for a noticeable length of time, maintaining a demure demeanor, fidgeting infrequently,while I or someone else says something. By way ofcompensation, you need not notice what I have toconvey. My role is simple and clear: to hold you herelong enough to let solemnity sink in.Of course it would be agreeable if in performingthis task I could find something worth saying; if Icould put into words thoughts or sentiments capableof arousing a resonance in some of the mindsgathered here on this occasion; reasonancesufficient to last at least a little while; or even,ideally, to attain such a level of poetry as to remainpart of your recollection of this event as long as yourecall it at all.How approach this probably too ambitious task?39It seems well to bring the event in which we participate this afternoon fully to consciousness by askingwhat it is we are trying to do together — aside fromwaiting a decent interval before going our variousand separate ways.As in all the rites of passage — ceremonies salutingbirth, marriage, death, and points between — theritual of graduation seeks to punctuate the flow oftime: that puzzling, personal foe we all perpetuallyface. For time engulfs us all, dooming our death;and in the meanwhile ruthlessly and relentlesslymakes all things perpetually new, and therefore perpetually perplexing. Ritual — repeatable, reliableritual such as ours — solemnizes and regularizes thedismaying flow of time. Thereby we impose an orderupon our experience of things — the naive kind oforder that allows me to say that what you experiencetoday recapitulates what I experienced 35 years agoand what others will experience next March, nextJune, and next December, and so on indefinitelyinto the future.Such rites, it seems to me, represent a special caseof the effort that is uniquely characteristic of universities and the intellectual life they are establishedto nourish: I refer to the effort to make the worldand all that is therein intelligible, regular,dependable, and even, within limits, predictable. Itis only thus that we can discover a basis upon whichto react confidently and effectively to that world.The method is familiar: we assign names andnumbers to things and thus give structure to thebuzzing, blooming confusion we experience. Namesand numbers, like this ceremony, seek to cancelTime by arresting its ever-destroying, ever-creatingcourse; for names and numbers select out segmentsof experience, and declare that for practical, that is,for human, purposes, these artificial segments areidentical and, indeed, repeatable. A table is a table,like a myriad of other tables — for human purposes;though we know that in fact such a particular tableis never twice the same nor really identical with anyother object in the entire universe.Moreover, by falsifying experience in this fashion,words and numbers permit us to focus attention onlimited portions of the spectrum of sensory stimulation that assaults us day and night. As we sit here,for instance, despite confusing echoes from theshadowed vaulting of this chapel, you can still sortout the thin thread of my voice from all the otherthings your senses report. And if you wish, you canattend to that small thread. Insofar as you do so, weare, thereby, in some limited sense, united in an actof human communication, propagating stimuli fromone to another across the abyss of space and amidstthe torrent of time.This is as much a mystery as is the vaster mystery of time and space, a bright and cheerful mystery asagainst the dark and dismal implications of temporal and spatial infinity — that dread infinity thatpromises to wipe away all that is human in dueseason, if not next year, then a million, or a millionmillion years hence. Against that threat, the fact ofhuman communication stands; a David againstGoliath, nay, a less- than- David against a greater-than-Goliath. Yet communication amongst theliving and across the generations, with men andwomen long since gone from the face of the earth,remains the firmest link we have with somethinggreater than our puny, private, and merely personalresources for coping with the world and its ways.To return to what brings us here today, each graduating student is not notably different today fromwhat he or she was yesterday; yet the degrees justabout to be awarded assert — ridiculously — thateach of you is different. Such assertions, of course,attempt to sum up and symbolize differencesaccumulated over the past two, three, four, or moreyears you have spent earning the degree. Yet in stating that you are all now bachelors, masters, or doctors of whatever branch of learning you havepursued, the officers of the University are obviouslydeclaring an absurdity. For each of you has uniquequalities and experiences — some developed beforeyou ever ventured onto this campus; others mademanifest or encountered while here — perchanceapart from or even in defiance of the overt, officialpurposes of the University. How can your variegatedlife-patterns be labeled and graded? Packaged andmerchandised? Certified as standard goods? Howindeed — without committing absurdity?Well, it is an absurdity, examined closely.Separate individualities and private paths ofexperience never precisely coincide. Yet in a rudeand inexact way it is also true that time spent in thisand other universities does induce more or lesssimilar changes in most of those who share theroutines of an institution such as this. How ithappens is as mysterious as the facts of humancommunication, for the changes we certify andcelebrate today are mainly the upshot of the specialsorts of communication we call teaching andresearch.You who are about to graduate each ought on thisoccasion to think back and ask: What manner ofperson was I when first I came to this campus? Andhow am I different today? For it is this we seek tosymbolize — however clumsily, imperfectly, deceptively, in awarding degrees, distributing diplomas,and intoning ritual phrases. Let me, then, pause,inviting each of you to consider and compare thememory of what you were with what you havebecome.40I do not know what images your efforts at recollection may have brought to consciousness. Each ofus is, I suppose, a mix of wish and wont, of work andwill. What we really are we can never know; and howwe appear to others will always elude us. We are, inshort, adrift in a sea of uncertainty; time rushingrelentlessly over all.Yet we come together to defy that fact. On thisoccasion, as we participate in a Convocation of theUniversity, we re-enact a ritual that, the printedProgram assures us, has been repeated 346 timessince the University's foundation. Now on this 347thtime, here, this afternoon, Convocation finds youand me in unaccustomed roles; but they are rolesthat will be filled again, as in times past, and for asfar into the future as we can profitably probe.This ceremony, in short, assimilates us all, byritualized act and repeatable word, to those whohave gone before and to those who will follow after,all of us in our turn laying claim to citizenship in thenoble republic of learning. Thus through this ritualwe pretend to escape Time — symbolically andmomentarily vain, of course, but valiant; and for allwho understand what we are up to, profoundly andpeculiarly human.Graduates, having endured now long enough toallow you to sense adequately the folly we commit indeclaring you different while each remains thesame; having invited you to reflect on your separatepasts while proclaiming that you somehow share in acommunity of the learned, past and still to come;having suggested that the ritual we celebrate assertswhat is not so and still symbolizes a genuine truthand a profoundly human hope; it is time* to end.So go your ways, divergent and unpredictable asthey must be. But I pray of you also to recall, fromtime to time, the mystery of what happened whileyou were a member of this University — struggling,suffering, aspiring, enduring, as you have in this lastmoment endured my remarks. May the recollection become a thing of reverence, even, perchance, ofradiance for each and every one of you in time tocome; for the life of the mind, insofar as you havebeen induced or provoked or permitted to partakethereof, is surely and certainly among mankind'snoblest and most delightful achievements. Andhaving tasted thereof, may you never forget, as longas your life shall last.William H. McNeill is the Robert A Milliken Distinguished Service Professor in the Department ofHistory.SUMMARY OFTHE 347TH CONVOCATIONThe 347th Convocation was held on Friday,December 14, 1973, in Rockefeller MemorialChapel. John T. Wilson, Provost, presided.A total of 392 degrees were awarded: 36 Bachelorof Arts, 89 Master of Arts, 19 Master of Science, 1Master of Fine Arts, 12 Master of Arts in Teaching,12 Master of Science in Teaching, 1 Master of Artsin the School of Social Service Administration, 13Master of Arts in the Graduate Library School, 82Master of Business Administration, 18 Master ofDivinity, 2 Doctor of Medicine, and 107 Doctor ofPhilosophy.One honorary degree and four Jesse L. Rosen-berger Medals were awarded.William H. McNeill, the Robert A MillikenDistinguished Service Professor of History, delivered the Convocation Address entitled "Ritesof Passage."41THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO RECORDOFFICE OF THE VICE PRESIDENT FOR PUBLIC AFFAIRSRoom 200, Administration BuildingV * t& ""% ~ « oESoreo2.ON79fito at13 I om £ c 33D P TJ2 > -, co §POSTAGAIDO,ILLINTNO.31 i(QCD;3-* O m*w sz ofCO 3|