THE UNIVERSITY OFCHICAGO 9 RECORDAugust 10, 1979 ISSN 0362-4706 An Official Publication Volume XIII, Number 4CONTENTS139 THE 373RD CONVOCATION ADDRESS: DILEMMAS OF SOCIALPROGRESS, By William J. Wilson141 373RD CONVOCATION STUDENT ADDRESSES— William A.Kadish, Peggy S. Culp, Philip River143 THE 373RD CONVOCATION: HONORARY DEGREES144 QUANTRELL AWARDS144 SUMMARY OF THE 373RD CONVOCATION145 THE ALBERT PICK, JR., AWARD FOR CONTRIBUTIONS TOINTERNATIONAL UNDERSTANDING— MAY 22, 1979149 THE 1979 RYERSON LECTURE: THE INWARDNESS OF MENTALLIFE, By Stephen Toulmin159 REPORT OF THE BOARD OF ATHLETICS AND RECREATIONALSPORTS, 1976-1979163 REPORT OF THE VISITING COMMITTEE OF THE LAW SCHOOL,1978THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGOFOUNDED BY JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER© Copyright 1979 by The University 8f Chicago. All rights reserved.THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO RECORDTHE 373RD CONVOCATION ADDRESS:OSLEIVBEVIAS OF SOCIAL PROGRESSBy William J. WilsonJuste 15, 1979I am very pleased to have the opportunity to salute the achievements of the students graduatingtoday. As I was preparing my remarks for thisconvocation, I thought about the emotional andfinancial investment you all have made in reachingthis milestone. And I could not help wondering ifthe future payoff on this investment, for at leastsome of you, will be enhanced by growing concerns about social equality. Although, on the onehand, few people would endorse the claim that wehave finally reached the point in our society wherethe statuses of male or female, black or white,Protestant or Catholic, Jew or Gentile are nolonger relevant in job placement and occupationaladvancement, there is, on the other hand, an astonishing lack of agreement today about the relative importance of these group statuses in determining one's chances in life.In this connection, critical observers of contemporary society have often remarked that current generations lack a sense of history and therefore do not really have a broad enough vision tointerpret modern social life. The absence of asense of history, they argue, accounts in largemeasure for the myopic perceptions of socialprogress — for the lack of an informed judgment ofchanges in the human condition. Gradual improvement and gradual deterioration in human lifeare often neither recognized nor appreciated, andtherefore the consequences of these social shiftsare neither clearly understood nor anticipated.But if the lack of a historical perspective narrowsour vision of social change, it does not fully account for the wide variation in the way that werespond to or interpret changes in human life. Thisvariation is clearly seen in the current debates about our degree of success in overcoming socialinequality. The arguments are familiar to most ofyou: Have minority Americans achieved real andsubstantial progress in recent years and have racial and ethnic discrimination and their debilitating effects been reduced, or is the progress ofminority citizens an illusion and the effects of discrimination as persistent as ever? Is sex discrimination declining thereby allowing women toenjoy inceasing opportunities in a historicallymale-dominated society, or is sex discriminationan unyielding factor in the female experience despite the vigorous efforts of women to promoteequal rights? In more general terms, have opportunities for mobility in America expanded in recent years, or are mobility opportunities diminishing? In other words, is American society increasingly permeable, or are conditions becomingincreasingly rigid and stratified?In considering the debates over these public issues, I never cease to be amazed at how frequently people refuse to let facts get in the way ofbeliefs, and how powerful is the tendency to highlight supporting evidence for a given set of beliefsand to downplay or ignore conflicting evidence.Scholars who are writing on these politicallycharged issues find themselves in a special dilemma. The reception of or reaction to their ideasis frequently based not on the validity of the arguments but on the extent to which the argumentsuphold or undermine prevailing political sentiments. As Harrington Moore once remarked, "Itis important to remember that in pointing out thepolitical implications of an argument one has saidnothing whatsoever about the validity of the argument. It is a common polemical device to discredit a line of argument by demonstrating that itleads to unwanted political conclusions."139But as any social analyst knows, it is often difficult to separate the political response from theintellectual response to a scholarly argument onpublic issues. Even in academia what frequentlyappears to be an intellectual response to a givenline of argument is partly a political responsecouched in respectable academic jargon. However, in reality no work that deals with issues ofpublic concern can expect a purely intellectual reaction. I say this because the way that people lineup for and against arguments that involve mattersof public concern seem to be more often based ontheir station in life, or position in society, or thestatus *of the group to which they belong, than onany real assessment of the evidence. Just asexaggerated claims of social progress are morelikely to be made by dominant groups, so too areexaggerated assertions of the lack of social progress more likely to be made by subordinategroups. Just as dominant group members oftenassume that their public acknowledgement of social inequities would encourage unreasonablesubordinate demands for social justice, so too dosubordinate group members often assume thattheir public acknowledgement of increasing opportunities would allow dominant members toabandon or not pursue programs promotinggreater equality.However, these divergent assumptions oftenlead to consequences not intended by their respective supporters. On the one hand, exaggerated dominant group claims concerning subordinate progress coupled with a failure to acknowledge continued social inequities often angersubordinates and motivate them to press theirdemands more forcefully. On the other hand, thesubordinate group's unyielding insistence thattheir conditions are not improving even in the faceof widespread social reforms and obvious indications of group progress, not only producesfeelings of resentment and despair, even amongthose members of the dominant group otherwisecommitted to social reform, but also lowers themorale among many subordinates who come tobelieve that ' ' nothing really works. "How refreshing it would be if dominant andsubordinate groups could recognize and acknowledge both real social progress and real social injustice. I personally believe that there is notheoretical or practical basis for assuming that thiskind of consensus and open candor cannot beachieved, despite the divisive effects of group vested interests. But an important first step in achieving this agreement is to move fceyond categoricalthinking about group behaVior. Social scientists are slowly beginning to recognize that in talkingabout intergroup differences we should not ignoreintragroup differences. We severely distort realityby discussing the experiences of, say, blacks andwomen as if they are monolithic socioeconomicgroups. Some have benefited from programs ofsocial reform or policies of antidiscrimination,others have not. For example, programs ofaffirmative action have positively touched thelives of trained and educated minorities andfemales but have not had any measurable effect onthe life chances of poor minorities and poorwomen. By not viewing subordinate groups asmonolithic entities in modern-day America, wecan readily recognize differences in intragroupexperiences and opportunities and devise programs that reflect these differences. The combined effect of these programs would be to enhance the mobility opportunities of all members ofhistorically subjugated groups, regardless of theircurrent level of training and education.It would also be necessary, of course, for members of both dominant and subordinate groups inthis society to be more honest or candid about thenature and degree of social progress in America. Itwould be necessary, in other words, for membersof dominant groups to acknowledge that real social inequities continue to exist in American society despite noticeable progress in recent years;and for members of subordinate groups to acknowledge that real progress has been made bysome members of their group, however restricted,and to assume that such progress could be usedeffectively as positive inducements to generateeven greater progress not only for the moreprivileged members of subordinate groups but forthe less privileged as well. Only then can we eliminate the suspicions, resentments, and animositiesthat impede the development of constructive dialogues, and only then can we work collectivelyand effectively to achieve genuine social equalityin America.In saluting you today, I also encourage you toengage in and promote this kind of dialogue. Regardless of your professional interest, it will bedifficult for you to completely ignore issues ofequality and opportunity in the coming years. Asmany of you enter the fields of law, government,social service, medicine, business, social sciences, science, and humanities you will not onlyconfront these issues, you will also, as trainedprofessionals, be in a position to be influential participants in the dialogue. It might even be possiblethat your efforts in this regard will leave a legacybuilt on mutual trust among groups — a legacy in140which all segments of American society not onlyinternalize a commitment to social justice, butalso deem it unnecessary and indeed inadvisableto deliberately distort or exaggerate the extent ofsocial progress.William Julius Wilson is Professor in the Department of Sociology and in the College and Chairman of the Department of Sociology.373RD CONVOCATIONSTUDENT ADDRESSBy William A. KadishUpon the completion of any major activity oneinevitably confronts oneself with the question:"What did I get out of it?" Particularly when thisendeavor has been a rather expensive collegeeducation, the question is also posed from without: "So, graduate, what have you gotten out ofthese four years?"What we all have acquired through our education in the College of the University of Chicago isa method of approaching our world intelligently.The first step in this process consists of criticalanalysis — a comprehensive and rigorous questioning of information and ideas. Superficially thismay appear to be a cruel and merciless attackupon the work of others. Its purpose, however, isto separate that which is carefully and thoughtfully reasoned from the invalid assumptions, theirrelevant facts, the inconsistent logic, and thepersonal prejudices in any given work.The second step in our method is the construction of a rational argument, one in which we striveto view a situation in a new light. In order tocreate such an argument we are forced never tocompromise with half-truths or unsubstantiatedopinions, but rather to consistently discipline ourthought. In this way we can insure that our understanding will be fair and precise.The real beauty of this method is that it provides us with the sense of power we need to beactivists in a world where too many feel powerless. We now have confidence in our thinking andthe courage to take the positions to which suchthinking leads. Furthermore, we can use the process of critical analysis and rational argument to help us communicate these positions convincingly.During my freshman year, I was disturbed tosee how infrequently students incorporated theseprinciples into anything beyond the strict limits ofacademic pursuits. I am proud to say today thatthe students of this graduating class and of theCollege as a whole have since shown much evidence to the contrary. Many have spoken outclearly and forcefully against irrational, inhumanepolicies of investment in South Africa. Membersof the Women's Union and their supporters havetaken a significant step towards making our community a safer one by pressuring the administration to release statistics of crimes in Hyde Park.Most recently a broad-based coalition of students,faculty, and staff has organized against the presentation to Robert S. McNamara of the firstAlbert Pick, Jr. , Award for contributions to international understanding.Campus activism has not been restricted to justthe political realm; it encompasses all aspects ofstudent life. This includes all the student advisorycommittees who have been working to improvethe programs of their respective collegiate divisions; the members of student government whofinally won the battle to create a coffee shop on Alevel of Regenstein; the dedicated undergraduateswho have set up a hot line service; and the manyothers whom time prevents my mentioning.It would, of course, be absurd to claim that onlyUniversity of Chicago men and women can be activists on these or other issues. Nonetheless, byvirtue of our method of evaluating what is andformulating visions of what might be, we have afirm foundation for our actions. Surely no institution could ever teach us a sense of what is rightand what is good, but the College has given us thetools with which to strive for these ideals in both aresponsible and effective manner.We students have proven that we do possessthe courage to use these tools well. Our world istoo precious and our potential for constructive action far too great for us not to use them. We knowthat what we have learned here will be invaluablewhen it comes to issues that affect the daily livesof ourselves and our neighbors. We thereforethank the College for educating us toward a veryspecial method of approaching our world, and weplan to use it wisely and powerfully the rest of ourlives.William A. Kadish received a Bachelor of Artsdegree during the convocation; his major area ofstudy was the Biological Sciences.141373RD CONVOCATIONSTUDENT ADDRESSBy Peggy S.Culp %-I'd like to tell you a story. It's about the University of Chicago, athletics, the diploma I'm aboutto receive, and me.Last summer I decided to run a marathon. So Istarted to run. At first I didn't run very far butevery day I tried to go a little further. Usually Istarted off by myself but sometimes I had company. As I ran he rode a rusty old bike. On onetrip to McCormick Place and back he carried atransistor radio and seven chocolate candy bars.He said that the candy bars were to give him energy and the disco beat was for me to set a paceby. Once in a while we raced a skateboard. Thetraining was fun. The lady I worked for; startedbringing me yogurt and these awful tasting, good-for-you candy bars. She treated me like BruceJenner.The morning of the marathon I wa& really excited. I was there on the starting line withthousands of other runners all waiting for the raceto start. It was a warm morning at the end of September. The ratio of men to women was aboutfour to one.The gun went off and at first I cruised. Two,five, and ten miles just sailed by. Other runnerswere friendly. The pace was fast but steady.People lined the lakefront cheering us on. Onelittle boy had a tape recorder playing the themefrom Rocky.As the miles passed the day grew warmer. Islowed down and became more and more appreciative of the water stands every two miles.Each stop broke the intensity of the race and letme rest for a little while.By the eighteenth mile I was miserable. Thenoon sun was blazing. Upon request, spectatorsdoused sweating runners with buckets of waterfrom Lake Michigan. Suddenly runners weredropping. Some just stepped onto the grass andsat down. They were tired of the race. Others felldehydrated and sick. I didn't feel so good anymore. My legs ached and my toes were blisteredand bleeding. I had paid ten dollars to enter thiscrazy race and now I was burnt out>All I couldthink of was "what the hell am I doing here?" Fora while I walked and thought about quitting.But I was more miserable when I contemplatedgetting on the bus and riding home. I alwaysthought I could do anything I set out to do. Maybe I couldn't win the marathon but I knew I wouldfinish. I changed my strategy and walked a whilelonger. Once I decided to take it easy, I felt better.I ran as hard as I could and jogged when I feltespecially tired. I didn't care about the prizes —the finishing certificate or the Mayor DaleyMarathon teg shirt. I wanted to finish.The twenty-fifth mile felt pretty good. I don'tknow if it was a second wind or delirium but Istarted to feel great. I ran faster and faster. Iwanted to finish in four hours but it was going tobe close . So I just kept going, taking it one step ata time.Before I knew it I was across the finish line. Iknew that I had done my best and that I was entitled to rest for a whole week if I wanted to. I tookoff my shoes and hobbled to the train.Later a plaque came in the mail. I had made mygoal of four hours. For a day or so I was excitedand proud again. But I have other goals now. Inretrospect, the marathon is not that big of a challenge. I think the plaque is somewhere in the clutter at the bottom of my closet. Really, who cares?I know if I take one step at a time I can do whatever I decide to do.Peggy S. Culp received a Bachelor of Arts degreeduring the convocation; her major area of studywas Behavioral Sciences.373RD CONVOCATIONSTUDENT ADDRESSBy Philip RiverSeveral years ago my classmates and I embarkedupon a challenging adventure. Our aim, and theaim of those we chose to help us, was twofold: tobecome more familiar with the ways of scienceand the humanities and to develop our abilities inthe solving of problems. I think I speak for all ofus in saying that I faced this prospect quite literally, unsuspecting of its far-reaching, even cosmic, dimensions.One thing suggested to me that this would be noordinary education — I was coming in a sense tothe realm of my forefathers for my mother andfather and their parents before them had beengraduates of the University of Chicago.Whatever I may have been thinking mythoughts were soon taken up with urban problems, the metaphysics of morals, the three-142dimensional structure of DNA, and other pressingissues which left little time for reflection. For me,and I think this is generally true, my work hasdemanded a kind of total immersion, a life bordering on the ascetic. Gradually, from out of the needfor concentration, and from the process of maturity, has come a new attitude on all our parts. Thisdifficult journey, which once appeared endless before us, has passed seemingly in an instant and Iarrive here today, out of breath, impressed withhow much I have to do and how little time I haveto do it in.It is the synthesis of the disciplines of scienceand the humanities that illuminates the largerscope of our educational odyssey — our appreciation of the symbolic as well as the literal, of thespirit as well as the matter. As we take up ourpositions in the empirical world, looking into themicro- and the macrocosm, what really counts iswhether we become more human from the insight.Einstein considered it of primary importance "toknow that what is impenetrable to us really exists,manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and themost radiant beauty." If our life's work is to bemeaningful, it will have to resonate with our soulas well as with our mind.The Taoists, an esoteric Chinese school of philosophy, relate that at the Great Beginning, Spiritand Matter met in mortal combat. At last the Yellow Emperor, the Son of Heaven, triumphed overthe Demon of Darkness and Earth. The Titan, inhis death agony, struck his head against the solarvault and shivered the blue dome of jade intofragments. The stars lost their nests, the moonwandered aimlessly among the wild chasms of thenight. In despair the Yellow Emperor sought farand wide for the repairer of the heavens. He hadnot to search in vain. Out of the Eastern Sea rosea divine queen, horn-crowned and dragon-tailed,resplendent in her armor of fire. She welded thefive-colored rainbow in her magic cauldron andrebuilt the Chinese sky.So it is that the champion of spirit has come toconquer matter and so it is that within the mysteries and problems of our day lie the secrets ofour own soul. As the ancient Chinese examinedthe great personal meaning in the order and entropy of the universe, so we must insist upon theinternal importance of the problems we face.When we manipulate, or shape by hand, our environment we are fashioning something which suitsus better, and we must be certain it suits our spiritas well as suiting our physical needs. Herein liesthe unsuspected significance of the studies we took up so blithely several years ago; herein liethe cosmic dimensions of where we stand today.Our challenge — to unite science with thehumanities, to renew the long-ago victory of spiritover matter, to act boldly in this pursuit for it is inthis that we are most strong.Philip River received a Bachelor of Arts degreeduring the convocation; his major area of studywas the Biological Sciences.THE 373RD CONVOCATION:HONORARY DEGREESPresentation of Albert Warner Overhauser byHellmut Fritzsche, Professor in the Departmentof Physics and the James Franck Institute andChairman of the Department of Physics.Madam President, I have the honor to present as acandidate for the honorary degree of Doctor ofScience Albert Overhauser, of Purdue University.Advances in our understanding of the laws ofnature usually occur quite suddenly. They aremade by the rare individuals who are able to thinkand see far beyond the confining boundaries ofconventional ideas and concepts.Overhauser proposed ideas of startling originality, so unusual that they initially took portions ofthe scientific community aback, but of such depthand significance that they opened vast new areasof science.Overhauser' s most important contribution isthe concept of dynamic nuclear polarization. Theconsequences of this so-called Overhauser effectfor magnetic resonance, and through magnetic resonance, for chemistry, biology, and high-energyphysics have been enormous. The idea was sostartlingly unexpected that it was not believeduntil he demonstrated it experimentally. This wasfollowed by his novel and far-reaching concept ofspin density waves in an electron gas and ofcharge density waves in crystalline solids. His lastand truly amazing contribution was the construction of a neutron interferometer with which Overhauser directly tested for the first time certainbasic tenets of quantum mechanics.143Overhauser' s imagination and pioneering insights place him in the first rank of physicists.It is my pleasure, Madam President, to presentAlbert Overhauser for the honorary degree ofDoctor of Science.Presentation of John Todd Wilson by D. GaleJohnson, Provost of the University of Chicagoand the Eliakim Hastings Moore DistinguishedService Professor in the Department of Economics and the Social Sciences Collegiate Division.Madam President, it is my privilege to present as acandidate for the honorary degree of Doctor ofHumane Letters John Todd Wilson.John Todd Wilson has made important contributions to the administration and guidance ofhigher education and research through two relatedcareers. One was a distinguished career in theadministration of science policy in the federalgovernment, primarily with the National ScienceFoundation where he served as Deputy Directorfor six years. For that service Mr. Wilson received the first Distinguished Service Awardgiven by the Foundation "for his outstanding contributions to the programs of the Foundation andfor his personal leadership in its development as amajor instrument for the advancement of science."But it is primarily for his dedication and serviceto our University that we honor him. He firstcame to the University of Chicago in 1961 andserved for two years as Special Assistant to President George Beadle. He then returned to the National Science Foundation. In 1968 he returned tothe University to serve as Provost with PresidentEdward H. Levi. As Provost, he served withforesight, courage, and dedication for more thansix years. Then, as Acting President and, finally,as President, he guided this University through aperiod of financial difficulty and did so with suchwisdom and skill that both the morale and intellectual strength of the University were maintained. He was clearly a man for the times, willingto make the difficult decisions that were requiredto conserve the strength and>itality of this institution. His times were not easy timds, but he has nocause to regret how he served the rest of us.Madam President, it is a great personal pleasurefor me to present to you John Todd Wilson as acandidate for the honorary degree of Doctor ofHumane Letters. From this. day hence, he willhave achieved something thai I know will mean a144 great deal to him, namely to be an alumnus of theUniversity of Chicago.QUANTRELL AWARDSQ~The University's 1978-79 Llewellyn John andHarriet Manchester Quantrell Awards for Excellence in Undergraduate Teaching were presentedduring the 373rd convocation on June 16, 1979.Upon the recommendation of Jonathan Z.Smith, Dean of the College, and D. Gale Johnson,Provost, Hanna H. Gray, President, designatedthe following four winners:David M. Bevington, Professor in the Department of English and the Humanities CollegiateDivision.Clifford W. Gurney, Professor in the Department of Medicine and the Biological Sciences Collegiate Division;Peter J. Wyllie, the Homer J. Livingston Professor in the Department of Geophysical Sciencesand the Physical Sciences Collegiate Division.Marvin Zonis, Associate Professor in the Department of Behavioral Sciences and the SocialSciences Collegiate Division.A total of 152 Quantrell Awards have beenmade since the program was established in 1938.SUMMARY OF THE373RD CONVOCATIONThe 373rd convocation was held on Friday andSaturday, June 15 and 16, 1979 in RockefellerMemorial Chapel. Hanna H. Gray, President ofthe University, presided.A total of 1,543 degrees were awarded: 386Bachelor of Arts, 12 Bachelor of Science, 15 Master of Arts in the Divinity School, 5 Master of Artsin the Graduate Library School, 169 Master ofArts in the School of Social Service Administration, 5 Master of Arts in the Committee on Public Policy Studies, 13 Master of Science in theDivision of the Biological Sciences and the Pritzker School of Medicine, 54 Master of Arts in theDivision of the Humanities, 7 Master of Fine Arts,29 Master of Science in the Division of the Physical Sciences, 89 Master of Arts in the Division ofthe Social Sciences, 4 Master of Science in Teaching, 4 Master of Arts in Teaching, 388 Master ofBusiness Administration, 1 Master of Comparative Law, 4 Master of Laws, 4 Doctor of Philosophy in the Divinity School, 1 Doctor of Philosophy in the Graduate Library School, 2 Doctor ofPhilosophy in the School of Social Service Administration, 12 Doctor of Philosophy in the Division of the Biological Sciences and the PritzkerSchool of Medicine, 18 Doctor of Philosophy inthe Division of the Humanities, 21 Doctor of Philosophy in the Division of the Physical Sciences,32 Doctor of Philosophy in the Division of theSocial Sciences, 3 Doctor of Philosophy in theGraduate School of Business, 97 Doctor ofMedicine, and 168 Doctor of Law.Two honorary degrees were conferred duringthe 373rd convocation. The recipient of the Doctor of Science degree was Albert Overhauser, Professor in the Department of Physics, Purdue University. The recipient of the degree of Doctor ofHumane Letters was John Todd Wilson, President Emeritus of the University of Chicago andProfessor in the Department of Education.Remarks of Robert S. McNamara upon receivingthe award from Hanna H. Gray, President of theUniversity.I am deeply honored and very grateful for thisaward — for the statue which accompanies it andfor the generous grant of $25,000, which I willcontribute to a development-oriented activity.It seems to me that what the directors of theAlbert Pick, Jr., Fund had in mind in establishingthis award honoring international understandingwas to point out that we need to think more profoundly about the new kind of world that is emerging around us.The old order is certainly passing; perhaps thebeginning of its breakdown can be dated from thatcold December day in 1942 when a few hundredyards from where we are now sitting the first nuclear chain reaction began. The consequences ofthat event were to transform our whole concept ofinternational security because Man now had the Four Llewellyn John and Harriet ManchesterQuantrell Awards for Excellence in Undergraduate Teaching were given to David M. Bev-ington, Professor in the Department of Englishand the Humanities Collegiate Division, CliffordW. Gurney, Professor in the Department ofMedicine and the Biological Sciences CollegiateDivision, Peter J. Wyllie, the Homer J. LivingstonProfessor in the Department of Geophysical Sciences and the Physical Sciences Collegiate Division, and Marvin Zonis, Associate Professor inthe Department of Behavioral Sciences and theSocial Sciences Collegiate Division.William Julius Wilson, Professor in the Department of Sociology and in the College andChairman of the Department of Sociology, delivered the principal convocation address, entitled"Dilemmas of Social Progress."Bachelor of Arts candidates remarks were givenby William A. Kadish, Peggy S. Culp, and PhilipRiver.capacity not merely to wage war, but to destroycivilization itself.If I may on this occasion speak quite personally, I had of course to wrestle with the problem ofthe fundamental nature of international securityduring my tenure as U. S. Secretary of Defense,and in 1966 I spoke publicly about it in a speech tothe American Society of Newspaper Editors meeting in Montreal.My central point was that the concept of security had become dangerously oversimplified.There had long been an almost universal tendencyto think of the security problem as being exclusively a military problem, and to think of the military problem as being primarily a weapons-systemor hardware problem."We still tend to conceive of national security," I noted, "almost solely as a state of armedreadiness: a vast, awesome arsenal of weaponry."But, I pointed out, if one reflects on the problemmore deeply it is clear that force alone does notTHE ALBERT PICK, JR., AWARD FOR CONTRIBUTIONS TOINTERNATIONAL UNDERSTANDING— MAY 22, 1979145guarantee security and that a nation can reach apoint at which it does not buy more security simply by buying more military hardware.That was my view then. It remains my viewtoday.Let me be precise about this point.No nation can avoid the responsibility of providing an appropriate and reasonable level of defense for its society. In an imperfect world that isnecessary. But what is just as necessary is tounderstand that the concept of security encompasses far more than military force and that a society can reach a point at which additional militaryexpenditure no longer provides additional security.Indeed, to the extent that such expenditure severely reduces the resources available for otheressential sectors and social services— and fuels afutile and reactive arms race— excessive militaryspending can erode security rather than enhanceit.Many societies today are facing that situation.Certainly the world as a whole is. And any sensible way out of the problem must begin with therealization of the dangers and disproportionatecosts that extravagant military spending imposeson human welfare and social progress.Global defense expenditures have grown solarge that it is difficult to grasp their full dimensions. The overall total is now in excess of$400 billion a year.Thirty-six million men are under arms in theworld's active forces, with another twenty-fivemillion in the reserves, and some thirty millioncivilians in military-related occupations.Public expenditures on weapons research anddevelopment now approach $30 billion a year andmobilize the talents of half a million scientists andengineers throughout the world. That is a greaterresearch effort than is devoted to any other activity on earth. It consumes more public researchmoney than is spent on the problems of energy,health, education, and food combined.The United States and the Soviet Union together account for more than half of the world'stotal defense bill and for some two-thirds of theworld's arms trade.And yet it is not in the industrialized nations,but in the developing countries that militarybudgets are rising the fastest.And what will this huge expenditure buy?Greater security?No. At these exaggerated levels^ only greaterrisk, greater danger, and greater delay in gettingon with life's real purposes.146 It is imperative that we understand this issue.The point is not that a nation's security is relatively less important than other considerations.Security is fundamental.The point is simply that excessive militaryspending can reduce security rather thanstrengthen it.In the matter of military force— as in manyother matters in life — more is not necessarily better. Beyond a prudent limit, more can turn out tobe very much worse.And if we examine defense expenditures aroundthe world today — and measure them realisticallyagainst the full spectrum of actions that tend topromote order and stability within and amongnations— it is obvious that there is a. very greatmisallocation of resources.Is there any way, then, to moderate the madmomentum of a global arms race?No very easy way, given the degree of suspicion and distrust involved.But as one who participated in the initial nuclear test ban arrangements, and other arms limitation discussions, I am absolutely convincedthat sound workable agreements are attainable.These matters clearly call for realism. But realism is not a hardened, inflexible, unimaginativeattitude. On the contrary, the realistic mindshould be a creative mind, a flexible mind, full ofpractical alternatives.And there are many alternatives available to anarms race. There are many far better ways of contributing to global security. I suggested a numberof those ways in my address in Montreal in 1966,pointing out the importance of accelerating economic and social progress in the developing countries. When, two years later, I left the Pentagonfor the World Bank this was an aspect of worldorder with which I was particularly concerned.Eleven years in that institution, combined withvisits to some 100 of the developing countrieshave contributed immeasurably to my international understanding. They have permitted meto explore the whole new world that has come topolitical independence — in large part over the pastquarter century.I have met the leaders of this new world — theirJeffersons and Washingtons and Franklins— andhave sensed their pride and their people's pride intheir new national independence, and their frustrations at their economic dependence.I have shared their sense of achievement at theremarkable rate of economic growth which manyof them attained, largely by their own efforts. ButI have been appalled by the desperate plight ofthose who did not share in this growth and whosenumbers rose relentlessly with the great tide ofpopulation expansion.There are today more than one billion humanbeings in the developing countries whose incomesper head have nearly stagnated over the past decade. In constant prices, they have risen onlyabout two dollars per capita per year: from $130 in1965 to $150 in 1975.But what is beyond the power of any set ofstatistics to illustrate is the inhuman degradationthe vast majority of these individuals are condemned to because of poverty.Malnutrition saps their energy and shortenstheir lives. Illiteracy darkens their minds andforecloses their futures. Preventable diseasesmaim and kill their children. Squalor and uglinesspollute and poison their surroundings.The miraculous gift of life itself, and all its intrinsic potential — so promising and rewarding forus— is eroded and reduced for them to a desperateeffort to survive.The self-perpetuating plight of the absolute poortends to cut them off from the economic progressthat takes place elsewhere in their own societies.They remain largely outside the development effort, neither able to contribute much to it, nor tobenefit fairly from it.And when we reflect on this profile of poverty inthe developing world we have to remind ourselvesthat we are not talking about merely a tiny minority of unfortunate s — a miscellaneous collection ofthe losers in life, a regrettable but insignificantexception to the rule. On the contrary, we aretalking about hundreds of. millions of humanbeings — 40 percent of the total population of over100 countries.Is the problem of absolute poverty in these nations solvable at all?I venture it is. And I also venture that, unlessthere is visible progress towards a solution, weshall not have a peaceful world. We cannot build asecure world upon a foundation of human misery.Now how can we help lift this burden of absolute poverty from the backs of a billion people?That is a problem we have been dealing with at theWorld Bank intensively for the past six or sevenyears.It is clear that we in the richer countries cannotdo it by our own efforts. Nor can they, the massesin the poorest countries, do it by their own effortsalone. There must be a partnership between acomparatively small contribution in money andskills from the developed world and the developing world's determination both to increase their rate of economic growth and to channel more ofthe benefits of that growth to the absolute poor.Most of the effort for this must come from thedeveloping countries own governments. By andlarge they are making that effort.In the past decade, the developing nations havefinanced over 80 percent of their investments outof their own meager incomes. But it is true theymust make even greater efforts. They have invested too little in agriculture, too little in population planning, and too little in essential public services. And too much of what they have investedhas benefitted only a privileged few.That calls for policy reforms, and that is, ofcourse, always politically difficult. But when thedistribution of land, income, and opportunity becomes distorted to the point of desperation, thenpolitical leaders must weigh the risk of social reform against social rebellion. "Too little too late"is history's universal epitaph for political regimesthat have lost their mandate to the demands oflandless, jobless, disenfranchised, and desperatemen.In any event, whatever the degree of neglect thegovernments in the poor countries have been responsible for, it has been more than matched bythe failure of the developed nations to assist themadequately through trade and aid in the development task.Today Germany, Japan, and the United Statesare particularly deficient in the level of their assistance.The case of the United States is illustrative. Itenjoys the largest gross national product in theworld. And yet it is currently one of the poorestperformers in the matter of development assistance. Among the developed nations, Sweden, theNetherlands, Norway, Australia, France, Belgium, Denmark, Canada, New Zealand, and even,with all its economic problems, the United Kingdom — all of these nations devote a greater percentage of their GNP to Official Development Assistance than does the U.S.In 1949, at the beginning of the Marshall Plan,U. S. Official Development Assistance amountedto 2.79 percent of GNP. Today, it is less thanone-tenth of that. And this after a quarter-centuryduring which the income of the average American,adjusted for inflation, has more than doubled.There are, of course, many sound reasons fordevelopment assistance.But the fundamental case is, I believe, themoral one. The whole of human history has recognized the principle that the rich and powerfuldo have a moral obligation to assist the poor and147the weak. That is what the sense of community isall about— any community: the community of thefamily, the community of the nation, the community of nations itself .nMoral principles, if they are really sound — andthis one clearly is— are also practical ways to proceed. Social justice is not simply an abstract ideal.It is a sensible way of making life more livable foreveryone.But it is true that the moral argument does notpersuade everyone.Very well. For those who prefer arguments thatappeal to self-interest, there are some very stronjgones.For example, exports provide one out of everyeight jobs in U.S. manufacturing, and they takethe output of one out of every three acres of U.S.farm land— and roughly one- third of these exportsare now going to the developing countries.Indeed, the U. S. now exports more to the developing countries than it does to WesternEurope, Eastern Europe, China, and the SovietUnion combined.As another example, the U.S. now gets increasing quantities of its raw materials from the developing world — more than 50 percent of its tin, rubber, and manganese plus very substantial amountsof tungsten and cobalt, to say nothing of its oil.The U.S. economy, then, increasingly dependson the ability of the developing nations both topurchase its exports and to supply it with important raw materials.And the same sort of relationship of mutualinterdependence exists between the other industrialized countries and the developing world.Thus, for the developed nations to do more toassist the developing countries is not merely theright thing to do; it is also increasingly the economically advantageous thing to do.What will it cost the United States and the otherindustrialized countries to do more?Far less than most of us imagine.The truth is that the developed nations wouldnot have to reduce their already immensely highstandard of living in the slightest, but only devotea minuscule proportion of the additional per capitaincome they will earn over the coming decade.It is not a question of the rich nations diminishing their present wealth in order to help the poor.It is only a question of their being willing to sharea tiny percentage — perhaps 3 percent — of their incremental income.It is true that the developed nations, understandably preoccupied with controlling inflation and searching for structural solutions to their owneconomic imbalances, may be tempted to conclude that, until these problems are solved, aidconsiderations must simply' be put aside.But support of development is not a luxury —something desirable when times are easy andsuperfluous when times become temporarilytroublesome.It is precisely the opposite. Assistance to thedeveloping countries is a continuing social andmoral responsibility, and its need now is greaterthan ever.Will we live up to that responsibility?I don't know.As I look back over my own generation-^-a generation that in its university years thought of itselfas liberal — I am astonished at the insensitivity thatall of us had during those years to the injustice ofracial discrimination in our own society.Will it now take another fifty years before wefully recognize the injustice of massive poverty inthe international community?We cannot let that happen.Nor will it happen— if we but turn our mindsseriously to the fundamental issues involved.Increasingly the old priorities and the old valuesare being reexamined in the light of the increasingdegree of interdependence that is developingamong nations — and it is right that they should be.Once they are thought through, it will be evident that international development is one of themost important movements underway in this century.It may ultimately turn out to be the most important.Our task, then, is to explore — to explore a turbulent world that is shifting uneasily beneath ourfeet even as we try to understand it. And to explore our own values and our own beliefs aboutwhat kind of a world we really want it to become.A few years ago, my wife pointed out to mewords of T. S. Eliot which expressed this samethought.In one of his most pensive moods, Eliot wrote:We shall not cease from explorationAnd the end of all our exploringWill be to arrive where we startedAnd know the place for the first time.Thank you, and good evening.Robert S. McNamara is President of the WorldBank.148THE NORA AND EDWARD RYERSON LECTURETHE INWARDNESS OF MENTAL LIFEBy Stephen ToulminThe Nora and Edward Ryerson Lectures wereestablished by the trustees of the University inDecember 1972. They are intended to give amember of the faculty the opportunity each yearto lecture to an audience from the entire University on a significant aspect of his or her researchand study. The president of the University appoints the lecturer on the recommendation of afaculty committee which solicits individual nominations from each member of the faculty duringthe winter quarter preceding the academic yearfor which the appointment is made. The lecturesare presented under the auspices of the Center forPolicy Study.The lecturers have been:1973-74: John Hope Franklin1974-75: S. Chandrasekhar1975-76: Philip B. Kurland1976-77: Robert E. Streeter1977-78: Dr. Albert DorfmanApril 30, 1979Introductory Remarks by Hanna H. GrayThomas Goodspeed described directly, and withgreat simplicity, William Rainey Harper's ideal ofa University of Chicago faculty member:He must be a teacher, but first and foremost hemust be a scholar, in love with learning, with apassion for research, an investigator who couldproduce, and, if what he produced was worthy,would wish to publish.The Nora and Edward Ryerson Lectureshipembodies this ideal. Nothing could be morefitting, more integral to the University than thislecture which bears the name of two individualswho did so much for it and for our city, and whowere committed to human progress and well-being. Edward Ryerson served the University as atrustee for nearly half a century, participating inthe deliberations of almost every committee of theboard and serving as chairman for five years. Mrs.Ryerson was a founding member of the Women's Board and, with her husband, devoted herself tothe University as well as to many other civic activities. Their tradition of volunteer commitmentand selfless service continues in their children,and, of course, through their children's children.The Nora and Edward Ryerson Lecture wasestablished in 1972. The lecturer is selected annually by his or her peers through nominations fromthe entire faculty. The lecturer is to speak on asubject of central interest to his or her intellectualwork. Each of the first five has met the higheststandards, and today's is no exception.The first thing that his friends will say ofStephen Toulmin is that he is a great cook. But heis known also as a great teacher and scholar. Jacques Barzun wrote in the preface to StephenToulmin' s Foresight and Understanding,to know what science is, what it does, and howit affects other manifestations of mind is a taskfor the man who is at once critic, historian, andphilosopher, and who has also been trained inone of the sciences, as well as mathematics.Professor Toulmin, who is qualified in theseways, has the added merit of being a lucid andlively writer.Mr. Toulmin was born in London and receivedhis B. A. in Mathematics and Physics and a Ph.D.in Philosophy from Cambridge University. Hewas Director of the Nuffield Foundation Unit forthe History of Ideas in London and held appointments at Cambridge, Oxford, Leeds, Brandeis,Michigan State, and Santa Cruz before joining theUniversity of Chicago faculty in 1973. His presence is a great good fortune for the University.Mr. Toulmin is Professor in the Committee onSocial Thought and in the Department of Philosophy and the Divinity School. He has been program director of the National Humanities Instituteat our University, and he is a Phi Beta KappaNational Lecturer for 1978-79.Beside Foresight and Understanding, Mr.Toulmin' s major publications include Reason inEthics, Philosophy of Science, The Uses of Argument, Human Understanding, and Knowingand Acting. He is co-author of The Fabric of the149Heavens, The Architecture of Matter, The Discovery of Time, and Wittgenstein's Vienna.He is a fighter, but a fighter for rationality andresponsibility in dealing with reality. His work hassought to clarify the nature and roles of conceptsand conceptual thought in order better to understand the idea of rationality. Scientists, he says,must be as rational and responsible as the rest ofus are expected to be and we, who are not scientists, must have a regard for the natural order ofthings and fit ourselves to that order.In the closing words of Knowing and Acting,Mr. Toulmin saidphilosophy' mobilizes our general self-understanding in the service of both our intellectual and our practical lives.He believed that it was time to begin dealing withthe detailed problems of philosophy, at least thosethe individual finds "most perplexing" for himself. It is as though he had written the introductionfor his talk this afternoon on "The Inwardness ofMental Life."Hanna H. Gray is President of the University.The 1979 LectureIMy text is taken from the twenty-third chapter ofthe first volume of The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, beginning at the second paragraph.Laurence Sterne is here tilting at academictheories about the workings of the human mind —chiefly those of John Locke and David Hartley —and he focusses particularly on theories about theinferiority of our mental experience. Take thoseviews with proper, real life seriousness (he implies) and the consequences will be matter for fantasy. To underline the point, he gives his own fantasy free rein: "I have a strong propensity in me,"he says, "to begin this chapter very nonsensically, and I will not baulk by fancy."One further gloss, before I read the passage: inclassical antiquity, the personification of faultfinding, mockery, and ridicule"was the god Momus;and the "glass of Momus" to wfiieh Sterne referswas an imagined window placed in the humanbreast so that "secret thoughts and feelings"would stand clearly revealed. I have trimmedaway Sterne's more baroque asides:If the fixture of Momus' s glass in the humanbreast had taken place . . . nothing more would have been wanting, in order to have taken aman's character, but to have taken a chair andgone softly, as you would to a dioptrical [i.e. aglass] beehive, and looked in . . . viewed thesoul stark naked . . .observed all her motions,... her machinations; . . . then taken your penand ink and set down nothing but what you haveseen, and could have sworn to. . . .But this is an advantage not to be had by thebiographer in this planet; ... in the planet Mercury (belike) the intense heat of the countrymust have vitrified the bodies of the inhabitantsso that all the tenements of their souls, from topto bottom, may be nothing else but one finetransparent body of clear glass ... so that, tillthe inhabitants grow old and tolerably wrinkled,whereby the rays of light, in passing throughthem, become so monstrously refracted that aman cannot be seen through; ... his soul mightas well play the fool out o' doors as in her ownhouse.But this is not the case of the inhabitants ofthis earth; .^ . . our minds shine not through thebody, but are wrapt up here in a dark coveringof uncrystallized flesh and blood; so that, if wewould come to the specific character of them,we must go some other way to work.A little later on, Tristram Shandy's father Captain Shandy, who is irredeemably given over toabstract philosophical speculation, attempts toexplain "introspection" and "the succession ofour ideas" to that embodiment of naive practicality, Uncle Toby:In every sound man' s head [he says] there is aregular succession of ideas of one sort oranother, which follow each other in train justlike. ... A train of artillery? said my uncleToby. A train of a fiddle-stick! , . . quoth myfather, . . . which follow and succeed oneanother in our minds at certain distances, justlike the images in the inside of a lanthorn turnedround by the heat of a candle. ...But it is no good: this image of the mind, as aMagic Lantern, epidiascope, or primitive movieprojector, eludes Uncle Toby. His own mental life(he confesses) is harder to figure out: it resemblesnothing so much as a rotary spit turning in asmoky chimney. ...Then, brother Toby (said my father) I havenothing more to say to you upon the subject.What is Sterne poking fun at here? Not the150inner life, not the life of the mind, not the play ofprivate imagination, certainly: Sterne's own penwas always at the service of his own weathercockfantasy. Rather, he is implying that the scientifically minded writers of the seventeenth andearly eighteenth centuries have introduced intoour ideas about the "inner world" of the mind aquite specious kind of clarity. Their vision ofmental life, as carried on in a totally enclosedmovie theatre located somewhere in the depths ofthe human brain — a theoretical picture that waswidely accepted in the eighteenth century, and isstill influential even in the twentieth — only confuses our ideas about the true "inwardness" ofour mental life. And, if taken in dead earnest andat their face value, the implications of that pictureare repugnant not merely to Tristram's UncleToby but also to much of our common experience.In real life, for example, reading the minds ofothers often proves to be easy enough whileknowing our own minds may well be much harder;so, whatever may be the prime obstacle to mentallucidity and psychic candor, it can scarcely be theopacity of flesh and blood!Still, leaving Sterne's caricature aside for themoment, the "inwardness" of mental life doesremain a problem. Indeed, the idea of Inwardnessis almost as perplexing a notion for us nowadaysas the idea of Time was for St. Augustine. Whenwe try to think about the idea clearly, half a dozennotions thrust their way into our heads. The personal, the private, the unspoken, the secret, thethought uttered only to oneself, the wish unacknowledged in the breast, the image in themind's eye ... all these diverse conceptions pushin, elbow one another aside, and vie for our attention. So long as nobody asks us to define and explain Inwardness, we understand it perfectly well;but the moment we set about giving an account ofit, we fall to stammering.If we are to rescue the Uncle Toby in us all, andcome to a proper understanding of the things thatmake our mental lives "inner" — if we are, inSterne's words, to "come to the specific characters of that inwardness — we must, accordingly,as he says, "go some other way to work." Andthis "other way" of thinking about mental life —notably, about its inner, private characteristics — will be the central topic of this lecture.Starting from clues to be found in Sterne's attackon the eighteenth century philosophers, let me setabout unravelling the different strands, or conceptions, of inwardness and interiority that havecontributed to our current confusion about the"inner life" of the mind. And let me try to followthe ripples of the resulting debate outwards from its all-too-theoretical center until we may reach, atthe periphery, even those highly practical issuesabout law, privacy and civic trust that Philip Kur-land raised for us in his own Ryerson Lecture afew years back.IIIn thinking about the life of the mind, we haveinherited two independent traditions; and themost vexing difficulties that face us in this taskspring from the need to square the beliefs thathave come down to us separately from those twotraditions. On the one hand, we possess a wholerepertory of practical skills and experiences ofkinds that we are accustomed to thinking of — anddescribing colloquially — as "inner" or "inward."We think to ourselves; we do sums in our headsand have tunes running through them; we find halfforgotten people and places coming vividly andunbidden into our mind's eye — Wordsworth'sinward eyeWhich is the bliss of solitude.We say things under our breaths, rather than audibly; we view the world with individual, imaginative eyes —With my inward Eye 'tis an old Man greyWith my outward a Thistle across the way(there's Blake for you); and we criticize ourselvesinwardly, putting ourselves on trial before theInner Court of Conscience, Justice Superego presiding.This "inner" world becomes the realm in whichwe deal with our most personal perplexities —But Mary was greatly troubled at this saying,and cast in her mind what manner of salutationthis might be.As a result, many of us place a special value onthe inward aspects of mental life, judging overtdeeds and actions as "outward and visible signs"of "inward and spiritual" states. Yet others of usview the powers of the inner imagination as a kindof Divine Seduction: what Wallace Stevens calls"the Interior Paramour" —Within its vital boundary, in the mindWe say God and the imagination are one.Still, one way or another, this first tradition focus-ses on the "inwardness" of our mental lives in a151quite direct, experiential manner. Unavoidably, itends by straining the resources of everyday language in the interest of fidelity to this experience:that is one reaspn^why it becomes the concern ofthe poets.Alongside this first way of viewing mental life ,however, we have inherited also an alternativeway of thinking about the mind: one that strives tobe both more theoretical and more literal minded.The exponents of this second tradition also seethelife of the mind as taking place "in the interior":for them, however, it is not just the interior of ourminds, but— quite literally— the interior of ourheads. As the protagonist of this second view, Ishall take the great Sir Isaac Newton himself. Forit was Newton who spelled out in clear physiological terms the sensorium theory that was alreadyimplicit in the arguments of Rene Descartes: thetheory that was destined — despite the indignantbut fruitless protests of Leibniz— to becomecommonplace among "enlightened thinkers" forthe next 200 years.In Query 28 of the Opticks, for example, Newton writes:Is not the sensory ... that place ... intowhich the sensible species of things [i.e. sensory images] are carried through the nerves andbrain, that there they may be perceived by theirimmediate presence to [the mental] substance?God may be able to perceive everything in theworld immediately in the place where it is, but(Newton argues) we are not so favorably situated.In our case, only the sensible images of things,carried through the organs of sense into our little sensoriums, are there seen and beheld bythat which in us perceives and thinks.And, in replying to Leibniz's objections throughthe pen of Samuel Clarke, Newton dots the i's andcrosses the t's of his position:The soul of a blind man does for this reasonnot see , because no images are conveyed (therebeing some obstruction in the way) to the sensorium where the soul is^present.It is not hard to see why so much subsequentphilosophical debate about human understandingtook it for granted that our minds (or souls) areimprisoned from birth in the depths of our brains.Once the inferiority of all our mental activities istaken for granted, the problem of developing any adequate conception of the ' ' external world' '(question-begging phrase!) is like the problem facing a lifelong prisoner in solitary confinement whohas no way of figuring out what is going on in theworld beyond the prison walls, aside from thesounds and pictures reaching him via a televisionset in his cell. (That is where Captain Shandy'simage of the mind as a Magic Lantern comes in.)Is Newton' s sensorium theory quite discreditedand without influence today? I think not. On theone hand, so distinguished a neurophysiologist asSir John Eccles happily embraces the Cartesianidea that "consciousness" is a nonphysicalagency operating in the depths of the brain. And,on the other hand, those harder-headed thinkerswho find Cartesianism an embarrassment do notdeny the interiority of our experience: they simplyreplace the interior "immaterial mind" by an interior computer. Penser? Nos cerveaux lefont pournous! Our mental life still goes on "in the interior": it just happens to be the business ofneurological networks in the cortex, rather than ofsome nonphysical soul, mind, or consciousnessassociated with (say) the pineal gland.Still (I shall reply) as a model for explaining the"inwardness" of mental life, a computer in thecortex is no improvement on an "immaterialmind" trapped wherever Descartes or Newtonoriginally located it. For both models distract ourattention from certain crucial differences between"inwardness" and " interiority "—that is, fromcertain crucial respects in which these two inherited ways of thinking about the "inner mind' ' partcompany, and diverge from one another. On theone hand, interiority is an inescapable feature ofour brains, and of all the physiological processesthat go on in the central nervous systems There isno doubt at all that they are permanently locatedinside our heads. So, if our "mental lives" were(properly speaking) "trapped within our brains"at all, they must be trapped there from birth. Onthis view, our minds must indeed operate permanently (as Jean-Paul Sartre puts it) a huis clos:mentally speaking, we would on this first view belike prisoners who are born, live, and die in permanent deadlock. Yet the inwardness of mentallife, as we know it and speak of it in everydayexperience, is not like that at all. The things thatmark so many of our thoughts, wishes, and feelings as "inner" or "inward" are riot permanent,inescapable, lifelong characteristics. On the contrary, "inwardness" is in many respects an ac-gw/red feature of our experience, a. product: theproduct, in part of cultural history , but in part alsoof individual development. So understood, our152mental lives are not essentially "inner" lives.Rather, they become "inner" because we makethem so. And we do develop "inner" lives — inthis direct, experiential sense — because we havereasons for doing so. Let me now explain what Imean by this.mSuppose, then, that we set aside all questionsabout the interiority of cerebral processes, andlook directly at the notion of "inwardness." Ofcourse, this notion is far from simple. Not all features of our mental lives are "inner" in the sameways or for the same reasons; and these severaldistinct kinds of inwardness are easily confused.We tackle many of our mental problems usingprocedures that have been "internalized"; wehave some highly "personal" attitudes and pointsof view; we deliberately keep some thoughts andfeelings "secret"; alternatively, we indulge our"private" fantasies and imaginations; at othertimes, we feel ourselves "open to" or "shut offfrom" our families and friends; . . . and so on, andso on.The image of the Mind as an Inner Theatrewithin the brain invites all these notions to comehome to roost within it. But if we reject that image, we are at any rate free to examine all thesedifferent kinds of "inwardness" in their ownterms. Internalization need not rest on concealment; the imagination does not operate only inprivate; reticence does not entail false consciousness; nor is it the secretive man who best knowshis own mind; while, as for the sense of being"locked up within" one's head or breast, thatfeeling — far from being a universal condition ofhuman experience — represents merely one particular form of psychopathology among others,even if it is currently a somewhat widespread one.Let me therefore try to sort out the main differences between the notions: I shall begin withthe phenomenon of internalization. Even thesimplest of our mental tasks and procedures are atfirst performed overtly and publicly: they becomeparts of our "inner" lives only because they aresubsequently internalized. This is a statementboth about the historical development of culture,and also about the psychological development ofindividuals. When, for instance, the people ofMilan first saw St. Ambrose reading to himself,they took him for a magician. Standing close up tohim, they could hear that he wasn't reading, evenin a whisper; and, besides, he was getting information off the written page faster than he could have done if he had been reading! The art of "readingto yourself," in our modern sense — reading athigh speed, .without articulating the words evenunder your breath— was apparently an historicaldiscovery or cultural invention, and perhaps aquite recent one.Similar discoveries and inventions occur in thecourse of our individual lifetimes, too. When myelder daughter was first learning arithmetic, shefell in love with adding and would ask me to sether problems to do as we walked down to school.I recall one day asking her, "Polly darling, when Igive you sums to do, why do you walk likethis — with your head back and your eyes nearlyshut?" and she answered at once, "That way Ican see the numbers more clearly against thedarkness." Evidently, she had discovered for herself, not just how to do sums "in her head" — howto do what we misleadingly call "mental" arithmetic, as though all arithmetic were not in its ownway "mental" — but also how she could put innervisual representations to work in the solution ofarithmetical problems. For who can doubt that thearrays of figures that Polly was dealing with "inher mind's eye" were internalized versions of thesame arrays that she had previously learned, atschool, to set out publicly on paper?To describe the circumstances in which mentalactivities like reading and adding are transformedfrom overt, manifest performances to silent, invisible ones — how they are "internalized," thatis — is to indicate also the reasons we have forinternalizing them. Once we stop articulating everything we read, even under our breaths, we canread that much faster; once we discover ways offiguring without the need for pencil and paper, orfor counting on our fingers, that, too, is an economy of time and effort; and, with more experience, we may go farther in the same direction —learning to perform all kinds of intellectual operations without even relying on visual imagery, asmy daughter did. (At that later stage, we switchover to what Karl Biihler called darstellungslosGedanke, or "imageless thought.") Accordingly,the inward aspect of such internalized mental procedures is primarily instrumental. It was the samesums that Polly solved, either with pencil andpaper or in her head; it was the same passages thatSt. Ambrose read, either out loud or to himself;and in neither case did the resort to "inner"mental procedures contravene Wittgenstein'smaxim that "inner" experiences have to bejudged as correct or incorrect by the same "public" criteria as any others. (Did Polly fail to"carry 2" in her head? Did St. Ambrose ra/sread153this text to himself? Our ways of finding out involve the same shared tests in either case!)The point can be generalized further. As earlyas 1913, Miguel de Unamuao wrote:To think is to talk with oneself, and each of ustalks to himself because we have had to talkwith one another. . . . Thought is interior language, and interior language originates in outward language. So that reason [being linked tothought, and so to inner speech] is properlyboth social and communal.And, as Vygotsky and his Russian colleagueshave shown more recently, inner speech in factappears to serve as a scaffolding in the consolidation of much learning. We talk ourselves step bystep through an unfamiliar task, and that murmured commentary has two functions. It bothhelps us to master the necessary skills morequickly and effectively, and it also—apparently— establishes neurological pathwaysthat can be called into play in the future exerciseof those same skills.In consequence, the internalization of skillsmay be associated with interior neurologicalchanges; but it is by no means to be equated withthose changes. What makes reading or doingsums, thinking or talking to ourselves, elements inour "inner lives" is — precisely— the fact that wecan contrast the internalized versions of those activities with their alternative, overt, and publicversions: reading audibly and figuring on paper,thinking aloud and talking with other people, Inthe required sense, therefore, not all our mentalexperiences are "inner" ones: they are properly"inward" only to the extent that they have beeninternalized— only, that is, to the extent that wehave had reason to internalize them.Having driven a wedge between "interiority"and "inwardness" in the case of internalizedthought, we can do the same for other mental activities and experience as well. In the course ofcultivating rich, full, and complex "inner lives,"we repeatedly have occasion to transfer experiences that could in principle be shared andcommunal — experiences that we first encounteredin the communal domain — into": the realm of the"inward." Indeed, different people seem to develop these capacities for "inwardness" in verydifferent directions. Speaking for myself, I tend tohave music playing itself over in my head much ofthe time, so that music plays a fairly prominentpart in my "inner" mental life; though all of the music in question is, of course, music I originallyheard performed in public. (I am not a closet composer!) In this respect, I now realize, other peoplehave "inner lives" quite different frorii mine. I amnot, for instance, one of those people like DavidGrene/who can recite hundreds of lines of poetryfrom memojaron request; so I was not surprised tofind (for example) that David has poetry ratherthan music running spontaneously through hishead; and I presume that— in the', same literalsense — still other people's imaginative lives arepredominantly visual, rather than musical or literary.Nor is internalizing confined to thinking andimagination: it extends to the sphere of decisionand action also. Early on in life, we master the artof "answering for ourselves" to our mentors andcaretakers— saying what we want, explainingwhat we are doing, if necessary excusingourselves — in a word, we become "accountable"for our actions. These, too, are things that we firstlearn to do openly and out loud; but, once again,we soon enough catch on to the possibility (andthe advantages) of doing the same things "inwardly ": thinking out our plans privately, and rehearsing to ourselves the things we are going tosay later (or could say, or would say if we werechallenged) about this or that situation or action.In this case, the fruits of internalization are; of1 several different kinds. At one end of a broadspectrum, internalizing increases our freedom ofaction: if we think out our plans silently in advance, we reduce the risk that others may intervene prematurely, as they could do if they heardus thinking our plans through out loud. At theother end of the spectrum, inner reflection canalso inhibit us. We fall into the habit of watchingour steps; we become our own most severe critics; we are even liable to "put ourselves on trial"within our own breasts, whenever we feel ourselves open to criticism. In this way, the cultivation of a self-critical conscience establishes withinus a permanent Court of Sessions before which wecan summon ourselves up for judgment at a moment's notice.As an extreme illustration, let me remind you ofShakespeare's Sonnet 30, with its well knownopening couplet:When to the sessions of sweet silent thoughtI summon up remembrance of things past.Shakespeare's "sweet silent thought" has little incommon with Wordsworth's "inward eye/ Which154is the bliss of solitude." Instead, it is a source ofjudgment and pain, and the tone ofthe whole sonnet is (at best) self-condemnatory and bittersweet.Shakespeare speaks of remembrance of the pastas a hostile witness to be "summoned up" beforethe judicial "sessions" of inner thought; and itstestimony weighs so heavily on his mind that he isalways ready to penalize himself afresh:Then can I grieve at grievances foregone,And heavily from woe to woe tell o'erThe sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,Which I new pay as if not paid before.No rule against double jeopardy can apparentlyprotect Shakespeare against his own self-accusations.Like all other instruments (that is to say) thearts of internalizing can be used for good or for ill,and so can be a mixed blessing. The same "inwardthought" that puts us at the mercy of our ownself-reproaches, and so restricts our personal autonomy, can alternatively enhance that autonomyby helping us to act "on our own accounts." Andthe same capacity for vivid recall that is a sourceof pain to Shakespeare is, for Siegfried Sassoon, asource of "calmed content";Like the notes of an old violin,Thoughts talk to me withinMy mind, that shuttered room . . .Old friends whose charity shoneFor me, be memory-mine.But, then, surely that is just what we ought tohave expected. After all, the moral and emotionalambiguities of our inner lives are simply the moraland emotional ambiguities of our open lives internalized. And those problems are none the lessequivocal just because we are attempting to dealwith them in the silence of our own breasts, ratherthan publicly and out loud!IVLet me take stock. Near the core of the Problemof Mental Inwardness (I have argued) lies a confusion between two very different kinds of "inside." Our thoughts and feelings become parts ofan "inner life" to the extent that we internalizethem: our cerebral processes cannot help takingplace "inside us" because that is where our brainsare. Once we make the initial mistake of equating these two kinds of interiority, we find ourselvestempted to carry the equation further; and, in thisway, we can quickly be seduced down a road thatleads to a familiar metaphysical Great Divide.What lies at the far end of this road? On the onehand (we are told) there is an "outer" world — thepublic, external world of space and time, which isequated with the objective, physical world of material things. On the other hand, there is an "inner" world — the subjective, mental world ofmoral sentiments and personal attitudes, which isequated with the private world of inner experience. Why do I object to this metaphysical opposition? I object to it chiefly because it telescopesfor purposes of theory half a dozen distinctionsthat in practice cut along quite different lines: theprivate as against the public, the internal asagainst the external, the moral as against the physical, the mental as against the material, and so on.Instead of respecting the complexities of our actual experience, it exhorts us to run all these contrasts together into a single, comprehensive dichotomy: between the "inner" mental world ofmoral sensibility and good intentions, and the"outer" material world of physical objects andbrute forces.Why are we susceptible to this temptation?Why are we so easily seduced into assuming thatthe sphere of the moral and the personal isessentially an "inner, mental world," while the"outer, material world" is essentially the sphereof indifferent, unresponsive things? That propensity may be an error, but it is certainly no accident. For, when we mull over moral issues involving other people, we have both more occasion, and also more reason, to do so "inwardly"than we have when the issues are practical onesinvolving physical things alone. When somethinggoes wrong with the toaster, it makes no difference whether you think through the resultingproblem out loud or in your head. (It makes nodifference to the toaster, that is. It doesn't mind!)But when you have trouble with the boss, or thechildren's school reports are worrying, it canmake a lot of difference whether you talk yourthoughts through out loud or keep them to yourself. Matters affecting other people's feelings andinterests call for a certain reticence and reserve. Ifonly to protect our freedom of decision, we holdour tongues until we have made up our minds, soavoiding premature reactions from the boss, thekids, or whoever it may be. For pragmatic reasons, quite apart from any others, "moral" issuesthus become topics for "inward" thought more155naturally and readily than "physical" issues do.Rather than pursuing this theoretical dichotomyfurther, however, let us instead retrace our stepsand look at the practical aspects of "inwardness." The public versus the private, the collective as against the personal, the open and the secretive, the overt and the internalized, the physical and the moral, and so on and so on — all ofthese contrasts rest on so many independent distinctions. Internalization, for instance, has nothing particularly personal about it. William Blake'sidiosyncratic imagination may see "an old Mangrey" where the rest of us see only a thistle; butthe sums that we do "in our heads" are just thesame old collective sums we learned to do likeanyone else. Nor are internalized mental operations essentially private, either. It may sometimesbe expedient to think over private problems silently, to ourselves; but our inner thoughts alsohave to do with public rather than private matters,while we can perfectly well discuss private matters out loud with our close friends and confidants. Least of all is there anything secretiveabout internalizing our mental operations. Someone who does not trouble to declare all his intentions explicitly cannot be criticized, on that account alone, for disguising or concealing them:his friends may be left in no doubt what he is goingto do, even without his saying. Similarly, if we dosums in our heads, read to ourselves, hum CelesteAida under our breaths, or wonder what to doabout the boss: the fact that we choose, for instance, to read or calculate "in our heads" doesnot mean that we are trying to conceal that fact, orpretending that our thoughts are other than theyreally are.Nor, for the matter, need our inner, mental livesbe solitary or exclusive, unless we choose to makethem so. Inner lives can perfectly well be shared.In his sonnet "Douceur du Soir," GeorgesRodenbach represents intimacy using the image oftwo people sitting together in silence while thedarkness falls, yet still feeling the same:Sentir la meme chose, et ne pas se le dire.And, in Anna Karenina, Tolstoy shows us Kittyand Levin renewing their interrupted courtship bywriting messages to one another using only theinitial letters of the words:W, y, t, m, i, c, n, b— d, y, m, n, o, t?(When you told me it could not be-— did you meannever or then!)156 This kind of condensation seems to be characteristic of the processes by which "inner speech"is progressively compressed and transformed into"pure thought." By the use of this device,Tolstoy depicts Constantine and Kitty's timid' 'inner selves' ' reaching back toward one another.If, by the use of this personal, inner code, theycan penetrate to each other's reticent thoughts,that will show their feelings for one another betterthan anything; for it will show that, inwardly, theyare still — as we rightly say — "of one mind."VBy now, I am edging my way back toward Tristram Shandy. In the passage I quoted at the outset(you recall), Laurence Sterne plays with the fantasy that the inhabitants of the planet Mercurymay have transparent glass bodies, so that theirsouls can be directly observed gambolling within;and he associates this particular conceit with thename of Momus, the classical personification offaultfinding, mockery, and ridicule. We may nowask ourselves: "How does Momus come in here?What does the spirit of mockery, the god of cen-soriousness, have to do with mental inwardness,or with the philosophical Problem of OtherMinds?"That depends on how we view this problem. Ifwe stay with the quite general standpoint ofabstract philosophy, Momus may have nothing tosay to us. But, from the more specific standpointsof practical life — when there is good reason to disguise our states of mind— the point of the reference to Momus begins to be clearer. For the factthat we develop an "inner life" in our early yearsmay enable us to conceal our thoughts, but it doesnot compel us to do so. We have special reason toconceal our feelings, and "keep our own counsel," only when we feel ourselves confronted bycensoriousness or ridicule. And, if unsympatheticonlookers cannot "read our minds" without resort to Momus' glass, that is because their mockery has forced us to adopt the disguise they wouldnow like to penetrate.So the Problem of Other Minds — the problem ofunderstanding how we recognize each other'sthoughts, intentions, and feelings — looks very different to us, depending on which starting point wechoose. Suppose first that we start from quitegeneral philosophical arguments based on the assumption that mental life is essentially "interior" :in that case, the standing presumptions will be infavor of the skeptic. How could anyone else knowmy mind, in that case, unless I chose to let them?Unless we take specific steps to show ar declareour states of mind, they will presumably remain"inner" and therefore unknowable to others. But,if we see the life of the mind as becoming an "inner" life only in the course of our lives — if werecognize how far the "inwardness" of mind is aparticular product generated during the development of mental life — then the standing presumptions will be reversed. Unless we takespecific steps to conceal or disguise our states ofmind, they will presumably remain manifest andapparent, at least to our fellows and familiars.In short: what we learn during infancy andchildhood is not the art of showing our minds.(That comes naturally enough.) Rather, we leamto conceal our minds, to be reticent, diplomatic,secretive — to keep poker faces or stiff upperlips — in a phrase, we learn to wear masks. Somepeople never get very good at this: lacking effective disguises, their minds show plainly on theirfaces. Others become past masters of concealment, and profit by this capacity. But secrecy ordisguise (as I have been arguing) represents onlyone variety of inwardness among many others.The secretive person is one thing; the reticent person is quite another; the reflective person, theimaginative person, and the introspective personare all of them different yet again — at the veryleast, they differ from one another in the uses towhich their "inwardness" is put. If that were notthe case — if all inwardness were, in essence,secretiveness — it would follow, paradoxically,that the true virtuoso of the "inner life" wasRichard Nixon.VIHaving got this far, we are much of the way home,but we still have some way to go. At this point, Ishall widen my angle of view further and try toshow you how the ripples from the Problem ofInwardness finally expand into the larger socialrealm.I referred in passing ¦ earlier to the powerfulimage of the mind as a "locked room" dramatizedin Jean-Paul Sartre's play Huis Clos; and also tothe sense of "entrapment" that Sartre so effectively conveys — the sense of despair at our seeming inability to "get outside" our own heads. Thisfeeling of entrapment (I suggested) is in part anontological illusion: a consequence of confusingthe "interiority" of neurological processes withthe "inwardness" of mental experience. But there is more to it than that; and, if we are to explainwhy Sartre's solipsistic imagery has such powerover our imaginations at this time, we should lookbeyond philosophy to our own social history. Forthe power of the Inner Room model cannot beaccounted for by looking to its philosophicalmerits and defects alone: in addition, it resonatesin significant ways with elements of our present-day psychological and social consciousness. Andfollowing up the things that I have tried to bring tolight in this discussion of "inwardness" can helpus (I believe) to recognize — and perhaps even tocounteract — a certain false consciousness that istypical of our own time.Why, then, are we so open (nowadays, particularly) to the feeling of being "trapped" within ourown individual personalities — prisoners in ourown brains, so to say? Or to the correlative ideathat, morally speaking, the larger cosmos ismerely absurd? Or for that matter to the despairing cry with which Sartre closes the play, "L'en-fer, c'est les autresV" ("Hell — that's otherpeople^)? The locus of all these preoccupationsmay appear to be internal to our individual minds,but their real roots lie (I shall argue) outside them:specifically, in the public and external world ofsocial, moral, and political interactions.Most immediately, no doubt, the developmentof an active "inner life" is our own work; but, lessdirectly, it depends also on the kind of support wehave from others. If the larger world of social andmoral relations proves strong and reliable, we areable to move freely between personal inwardnessand public openness. In that case, our inner livescan be not just active, but also effective: internalization serves as an instrument of autonomy,so there need be no sense of discontinuity between the "inner" and the "outer." If the publicmoral world proves fragile and untrustworthy, onthe other hand, internalization may serve rather asa mechanism of defense. The inner life of the mindis then less a base for effective outside action thana refuge or asylum from the public world; and theproblem of transcending solipsism in that case becomes, not just an intellectual problem, but alsoan emotional one. In passing to and fro betweenthe private world of inner experience — which isseemingly protected against intrusion by externalagencies — and the public world of space andtime — from which nothing good can apparently beexpected — we shall then experience a clear discontinuity.When Sartre's hero cries out that hell is otherpeople, the message that comes across to us is the157message that we are, nowadays, more than, usually inclined to regard other people as hell. So, thetask of transcending our sense of entrapment onthe emotional level depends not merely on ourown self-command: it requires also that we shouldnot have any objective reason for feeling betrayed. And, in that respect, many people todaywould feel that we live in an unhappy time. Ingeneral (as Philip Kurland has suggested) ours is asociety and an age in which the Law is too oftencalled in to redress the failings of Morality, inwhich few people place much social reliance on"fellow feeling" or on "civic trust." It is an age inwhich few people any longer take "civil morality"for granted; in which reliance on professional advice is reinforced by the threat of malpracticesuits; in which urban life leaves us with few real"neighbors'' — a time whose social fragmentationis embodied in the young Colorado man who iscurrently suing his own parents for $300,000, arguing that their negligent upbringing left him a psychological cripple and entitles him to monetarydamages.In trying to explain the appeal of such works asSartre's H uis Clos, therefore, I find my self tempted to trespass into both psychiatry and politicaltheory. On the one hand, the personality weaknesses most typical of those who consultpsychoanalysts nowadays are apparently quitedifferent from the classic hysterias and obsessionsof Freud's own late Habsburg Vienna. Growingup within the modern, isolated nuclear family,without sufficient social interaction and support,people develop what Heinz Kohut has called a"vertical split" in their personalities. The innerlife becomes a place of refuge, to which alone theycan safely attach real value; while the outer, practical sector of their lives strikes them as valuelessand unrewarding.On the other hand, I find myself echoing someof Philip Kurland' s arguments about privacy andthe law. In a society that is short on civic trust, theprocesses of the law are a poor substitute for theassurances of civil morality. (The law of privacy,for instance, is a poor substitute for proper respect between individual moral agents.) A worldin which nobody accepts anybody else's goodfaith is, indeed, a world of faultfinding, criticism,and mockery— a world that deserves to haveMomus, the god of Ridicule, as its tutelary deity.And, if we are to find our ways back out ofSartre's solipsistic trap, we shall have, at some-point, to recognize that the roots of solipsism areboth theoretical and practical, both intellectualand emotional. In spite of all Descartes' maxims,there are, on the intellectual plane, some things158 that it is more treasonable to doubt than to believe; and meanwhile, on the emotional planealso, there are some people whom it is more un-reasonable to doubt than to trust.The political theorists of the seventeenth century <set us speculating about the Origins of Society. Thomas Hobbes, in particular, accustomedus to thinking of the State of Nature— the condition of human beings for whom there are not yetany effective bonds of communal life — as characterized by fear. His arguments have encouragedus to imagine our primate forerunners skulkingaround the forests of East Africa in terror of thestab in the dark, the sudden blow from a club—what the Book of Common Prayer calls "battleand murder, and sudden death." Still, there aretimes when I suspect Hobbes of overdramatizingthe horrors of the State of Nature: George Schal-ler and Jane Goodall have taught us a more tranquil, and a more charitable, view of our fellowprimates. And, in any event, I wonder whetherthe question that Hobbes poses is the one thatshould really be preoccupying political scientiststoday. Standing where we do, we surely have reason to speculate less about the Origins of SocialLife than about its End. For us, today, the State ofNature is surely significant, less as the conditionof human beings who are nor yet in society, thanas the condition of human beings for whom thereare no longer any effective bonds of communallife. Our own condition, that is to say, is threatening to become, not pre- social, but post- social:The bonds of community are not dissolved bythe fear of mutual violence alone. They can bedissolved as effectively, if more subtly, by themere absence of mutual trust. Without civic trust,there is no civil morality; and a community shorton civil morality can be even more asocial thanone that is torn apart by mutual fear. (As Hobbeshimself understood, fear itself can actually be abond.) So perhaps it was always a mistake to thinkof the State of Nature as an especially violentstate. Maybe, we should think of it rather as aworld in which our social bonds have worn themselves out, and in which we have lost touch withone another — a world in which we are indeed"driven in on ourselves," driven to take refuge inthe asylums of our "inner lives," for lack of external openness and public understanding — inshort, in which we are all of us opaque to oneanother. If that is indeed our case, we shouldprobably think about the State of Nature in termsof a different image. Rather than being a world ofweapons, it will be a world of masks.So, you see, the Problem of Inwardness is atopic- whose ramifications go far beyond all purelyabstract philosophical concerns. Its ripples spreadout further, to stir and enhance our contemporarysense of personal isolation and civic decay. Andthat, I believe, is just the kind of thing that Laurence Sterne himself understood very well. ForSterne is a critic we should take care not to underestimate. Just because he is such fun to read, wemay too easily conclude that he wrote his bookswith nothing but fun in mind. Yet Sterne had amore serious purpose, too. It was not for nothingthat he chose to have printed on the title page ofTristram Shandy as a motto some words fromEpictetus:Tarassei tous anthropous ou ta pragmata aliata peri ton pragmaton dogmataBREPORT OF THE BOARD OF ATHLETICSAND RECREATIONAL SPORTS1976-1979The Board of Athletics and Recreational Sportswas established by the Board of Trustees in 1976on the recommendation of the Council of the University Senate and President John T. Wilson. Itsconcern is with all phases of athletics, intra-murals, and recreational sports, including the implementation of their programs and the use andcondition of the athletic facilities. Its responsibilities include the formulation of policy onthe scope, function, and objectives of intercollegiate athletics, intramural sports, and recreational activities; the review of the effectivenessof the programs in physical education; and thereview and recommendation of the annual budgetfor the Department of Physical Education andAthletics. In the discharge of these responsibilities, it works in close cooperation withthe Director of Athletics and the Chairman of theDepartment of Physical Education and Athletics.Board CompositionAppointments to the board are made by the Boardof Trustees on the recommendation of the provoston an annual basis, with the expectation that themaximum period of service shall be four years.The initial composition of the board was: RogerH. Hildebrand, chairman, Joseph J. Ceithaml,Norman H. Nachtrieb, Leonard K. Olsen, Dr.Suzanne Oparil, Dr. Robert L. Replogle, Paul J. — "What upsets people is not things themselves,but their theories about things." Even the mostabstract philosophical dogmata, if misconceived,can lead us into misunderstanding and self-doubtfar beyond the narrower bounds of technical philosophy itself. And, over such notions as the"private," the "personal," and the "inner life"especially, the philosophical clarification of ourideas can still serve us (as Epictetus believed thatit should) as a means of improving our self-knowledge.Stephen Toulmin is Professor in the Committee onSocial Thought, in the Department of Philosophy ,and in the Divinity School. The Ryerson Lecturewas given in the Glen A. Lloyd Auditorium of theLaird Bell Law Quadrangle .Sally, Jr., David N. Schramm, Diana T. Slaughter, and Lorna P. Straus; with Vice-PresidentCharles D. O'Connell, Associate Provost BenRothblatt, Mary Jean Mulvaney, Chairman of theDepartment of Physical Education and Athletics,and Harold R. Metcalf, Assistant Dean of Students and Director of Athletics, as ex officiomembers. To provide for rotation in membershipwith continuity, the terms of initial appointmentranged from two to four years, and in 1977Elizabeth Abel and Janice B. Spofford replacedDr. Oparil and Ms. Slaughter. In autumn, 1978,Jane H. Overton, Beatrice Garber, Mark Ashin,and Eugene F. Fama were appointed to succeedAbel, Ceithaml, Olsen, and Straus. At that timealso, David N. Schramm was named to succeedRoger H. Hildebrand as board chairman. Now inits third year of existence, the board meets on amonthly basis during the academic year.Programs in Physical Education, Athletics, andRecreationOur program of physical education provides a diversified range of activities for about 850 studentsannually. Unless exempted for medical reasons orby placement tests in swimming and motor classification, all undergraduate students are held(normally in their first year) for up to three quarters of supervised instruction in one or more ofabout twenty activities, such as racquetball, basketball, tennis, swimming, bowling, jogging, tomention a few. Largely coeducational and verypopular since the merger of the men's and women's programs in 1976, the courses are over-159subscribed by students who wish to take them onan optional basis. To the extent possible, a smallbut dedicated and energetic faculty accommodateas many optional students as their schedules andfacilities permit.An intramural program is active during eachquarter of the academic year, with about twenty-three men's and eighteen women's residencehouse teams and three fraternity teams competingin forty-eight men's, women's, and coed activities: e.g., swimming, racquetball, tennis, volleyball, archery, turkey trot, horseshoes, etc.,etc. A cumulative point system determines theyear's intramural champions in men's, women's,and coed classifications.The intramural program puts competitive sportswithin the reach of each student who wishes toparticipate, regardless of natural ability. It maywell be unique among colleges in the country inthe extent to which it engages students.Co-recreational (badminton and volleyball) andrecreational (slimnastics) programs, each underthe supervision of a member of the physical education faculty, provide athletic services for a morediverse clientele: graduate students, faculty members and their spouses, and staff members. Amodest but growing program, it attracts its participants from among those who want recreation andexercise at the end of a working day.Sports clubs provide another way in whichundergraduate and graduate students organizetheir athletic activities. Archery, badminton,cricket, crew (men's and women's), rugby, andsailing are a few of the approximately twenty-fivesports clubs that are growing steadily in membership.Intercollegiate athletics for male undergraduates is available in ten sports: baseball, basketball, cross country, fencing, football, soccer,swimming, tennis, track and field, and wrestling.Except for fencing, for which meets are conducted in tournaments, most of the games andmeets are held with other colleges in the MidwestCollegiate Athletic Conference (MCAC) in Division III of the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). Our teams have performed creditably, even valiantly, and although only one co-conference championship has been won to date,they have come a long way from the athleticobscurity that marked the scene until a very fewyears ago. One of the problems that concern theboard, chairman, and director is the relativelysmall turnout of students for football and wrestling. It is difficult, and even hazardous, to field ateam whose members must play the entire game with little possibility for substitutions. And it isunfair to opposing wrestling squads, not to sayembarrassing to the University, to have to forfeitmatches for lack of athletes in some weight classifications. Both varsity sports are under closescrutiny by the board, chairman, and director todetermine whether these sports can properly becontinued.The women's intercollegiate athletic programprovides varsity teams in basketball, field hockey,tennis, softball, swimming and diving, track andfield, and volleyball. Competition is within thegroup of thirty -two small colleges that comprisethe membership of the Illinois Association forIntercollegiate Athletics for Women. There is highmorale on the women's squads and much enthusiasm among the athletes and coaches. Fieldhockey has yet to establish itself on the samecompetitive basis as the other sports and, likefootball and wrestling among the men's sports, isunder close observation.Physical FacilitiesApart from the tennis courts on the main quadrangle, the Regenstein Library block, and eightnew tennis courts donated by Mr. Wilson E.McDermut, the University's physical educationand athletic facilities are centered at BartlettGymnasium, the Henry Crown Field House,Stagg Field, and Ida Noyes Gymnasium. BartlettGym, although one of the oldest campus buildings, fulfills a vital function in the program. Thehub of the department's activities, it is usedprimarily for intramural sports and unstructuredrecreational play. It provides facilities for swimming, jogging, basketball, handball, squash,weightlifting, racquetball, and the martial sports.The continuing value of Bartlett Gym is attestedby the remarkable annual participant use figures:20,000 for swimming, 25,000 for basketball, 18,000for jogging, 15,000 for weightlifting, and an average of 140 per day for handball/squash/racquetball. However, its 60 ft. by 28 ft. swimming pool, excellent for recreational use, is notadequate for varsity events.The magnificent Henry Crown Field House,built in 1932 and restored to use after the firstphase of renovation in 1978, is now a multipurpose coeducational facility that provides for intercollegiate athletics, physical education classes,intramural sports, and unstructured recreationalplay. During the winter quarter 1979, 1,200 to1,500 persons used it daily for these purposes.Phase I of its renovation converted it into a two-level structure, with a superb six-lane running160track, a varsity basketball court, three courts *marked for volleyball, tennis, and basketball,three squash courts, and four handball/racquetballcourts. Phase II of its renovation, now under wayand scheduled for completion by January 1, 1980,will make necessary repairs to the building roof;provide multifunctional areas on the ground floorfor archery, fencing, weightlif ting/training, golfand baseball practice, additional locker facilities;and complete the squash court complement withthe addition of four more units. It would be difficult to overstate the real and symbolic effect ofthe renovation of the field house upon the totalphysical education/athletics/recreation program ofthe University. With this dramatic action, theUniversity of Chicago made a convincing statement to its students: The pursuit of academic excellence and the cultivation of a sound and healthybody are mutually reinforcing!Stagg Field, with its fine playing field, track,and tennis courts, is the proving ground for varsity athletics. It now has a small building withmeeting rooms for the host and guest teams and asmall but adequate grandstand. It meets our present needs.Ida Noyes, like Bartlett Gymnasium, plays animportant role in the physical education, intramural, and recreational activities of the University. Its 60 ft. by 24 ft. swimming pool accommodates 20,000 to 25,000 persons annually, and itsgymnasium provides facilities for physical education classes and co-recreational sports. With thecompletion of Phase I of the field house renovation, the women's varsity activities were transferred there, permitting increased use of IdaNoyes for optional students in physical educationand for increased informal recreational use bygroups of students, faculty, staff, and alumni.Policy Role of the BoardThe Board of Athletics and Recreational Sportshas, from its creation, functioned primarily in apolicy-making capacity, leaving the details of implementation and administration to the chairmanand director. Annually, it reviews and advises onthe preparation of the proposed budget with thesepersons and ultimately transmits its endorsementto the dean of students. It has participated as awhole and through its Subcommittee on Facilities,in the planning for the renovation of the HenryCrown Field House and for the construction of theStagg Field facility for varsity teams. The boardhas established priorities for the use of facilitiesby the several constituencies of the University asfollows: 1. Physical education classes2. Intercollegiate athletics3. Intramural sports4. General recreation5. Other University of Chicago groupsa. Sports clubsb. Office of Special Programsc. University of Chicago High SchoolBoard policy has been to limit the use of athleticfacilities to University of Chicago students, faculty, staff employees, alumni (and members of theimmediate family of these groups), and membersof approved affiliated organizations. A Subcommittee on the Use of Facilities receives requests for use of facilities by other groups outsidethe University but usually recommends denial tothe board.The board has considered and approved recommendations of the Department of PhysicalEducation and Athletics for fee schedules for theuse of lockers and for occasional guests of University members. The board is mindful of the potential of athletics and recreational sports for therecruitment of students to the College and hasconferred with the dean of students, the dean ofstudents in the College, and with the director ofadmissions and aid on ways of improving theimage of the University of Chicago as an institution well-endowed with facilities and fully supportive of these activities. In this context, it has invited members of alumni groups (Graduate Orderof the C and the Women's Advisory Board forAthletics) to attend some of its meetings for thepurpose of finding ways to increase the pool ofathlete-scholars. To lend support and encouragement to student groups, it invites representativesof the Undergraduate Order of the C, the Women's Athletic Association, the Intramural Council,and sports clubs to its meetings on occasion, as itscharter provides.Problems and OpportunitiesA problem which, for more than a year, has concerned the board, all members of the athletic staff,the Office of College Admissions and Aid, and theOffice of Legal Counsel concerns the University' smembership in the Midwest Collegiate AthleticConference (MCAC) and its parent organization,the National Collegiate Athletic Association(NCAA). On November 15, 1975, the Universityof Chicago was admitted to provisional membership in the MCAC, a group of colleges in Illinois,Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota who competeunder the rules of the NCAA: Beloit College,Carleton College, Coe College, Cornell College,161Grinnell College,, Knox College, Lake Forest College, Lawrence College, Monmouth College, andRipon College. The conference operates under therules of division III of the NCAA which providethat no student may be given an athletic scholarship or financial aid beyond need and in programs available to all students. The University ofChicago's Stagg Scholarships have been a sourceof contention since the University was provisionally admitted to membership. In February1979, the University was finally admitted to fullmembership, an exception having been approvedby the other members of the MCAC for the StaggScholarships. At about the same time, the NCAAclarified and reinforced its requirement that division III conference schools must offer no athleticscholarships or other financial aid to athletes notgenerally available to all students. It has recentlycome to light that at least five of the conferencecolleges have need-based scholarships, for whichathletic participation is required. The MCAC nowfaces a dilemma larger than that presented by theUniversity of Chicago's membership with which itmust contend. Throughout 1978 the board discussed alternatives available to the University,including dropping MCAC membership and seeking membership in another conference, becomingindependent and playing non-conference gamesand in tournaments, or redefining the Stagg Scholarships on a need basis and remaining in theMCAC. The final course was adopted, with theunderstanding that Stagg Scholarships now inforce are not subject to the limitation becausetheir annual renewal is based upon academicrather than athletic considerations. In the future,the designation "Stagg Scholar" may becomehonorific only and new, nonfinancial forms willneed to be worked out to honor those studentswho are named Stagg Scholars. The board's formal relationship with the MCAC is through thedirector of athletics and its faculty representative,who meet twice annually with their counterpartsfrom the ten other colleges. Substantive actionstaken at these meetings are subject to the approvalof the faculties of the respective institutions (inthe case of the University, this board) and arereported to the secretary of the MCAC by thefaculty representatives.The board and staff believe that conference participation is essential to the life and growth ofintercollegiate athletics on the campus and thatthe loss of the Stagg Scholarships, unfortunatethough it is, is the price that we must pay. Othernon-aid-related ways will be sought to acknowl edge the excellence of men athletes and to recallthe memory of a great former member of the faculty. At the present time, the Dudley and WilsonScholarships for women do not appear to be injeopardy, although the rules governing womenathletes under the Association of IntercollegiateAthletics |of Women ( AIAW) may well follow thelead of the NCAA.Board-perceived Needs for Athletics and SportsTwo additions to the University's athleticfacilities are vital for the further development ofathletics, intramural sports, and recreational activities on the campus: a modem swimming pooland additional tennis courts. The most pressingneed is for a new aquatic facility on campus. Theswimming pools in Bartlett Gymnasium and IdaNoyes Hall are four-lane, twenty-yard poolswhich are entirely inadequate for recreational use,basic swimming classes, and competitive swimming. These pools now operate at full capacitythroughout the year and are frequently overcrowded. The construction of a natatorium containing a fifty-meter pool is a necessary additionfor the completion of the recently upgraded athletic facilities on campus. The natural site for thisnatatorium is between the Bartlett Gymnasiumand the Henry Crown Field House, providingthrough access from Bartlett to the field house. Afifty-meter, eight-lane pool would have a width oftwenty-five yards and provide a very attractivefacility for the expanding number of swimmers oncampus. In addition, it would be a great attractionfor competitive high school swimmers. The sportof swimming is growing in high schools throughout the country, and Illinois is among the top fivestates in the country in the quality of high schoolswimming. A new pool would provide the opportunity to develop collegiate swimming at a highlycompetitive level without the necessity of athleticscholarships. The board strongly recommends anintensive effort to acquire the funds to build anatatorium.Tennis is growing in popularity among students,and the twenty-four tennis courts we have areheavily used. Additional courts — any numberwould help to alleviate a real deficiency— wouldbe welcomed for physical education classes andfor general recreation.Roger H. HildebrandNorman H. Nachtrieb, ChairmanPaul J. Sally, Jr.Janice B. Spofford162REPORT OF THE VISITING COMMITTEEOF THE LAW SCHOOL, 1978The Visiting Committee of the Law School met onNovember 30 and December 1, 1978 on the Midway. Once again attendance was remarkable withmore than forty members present.The program opened with Dean Norval Morris's report of major developments at the schoolduring the past twelve months. The ensuing program covered subject matters of long-standinginterest to the committee including faculty recruitment and minority admissions.This report will not cover in depth these particular areas. None of the issues raised were new; allhave been reviewed in committee reports for previous years. While the deliberations of the committee evidence that there are no easy answers,interest in and concern about these problem areashave persisted for some time. Welcome news tocommittee members since the 1978 meeting wasthe announcement of two strong new faculty appointments: Frank H. Easterbrook and R. LeaBrilmayer.The space needs of the law school were stressedwith respect to the library, the Mandel Clinic, andoffice requirements for members of the faculty. Ifthese needs were to be met by new buildings, substantial additional funds would be required. Onthe other hand, one route deserving of further exploration is some form of accommodation with theCollege as to the availability of a portion of theeast wing of Burton- Judson that appears to beunderutilized by College students. On anotherfront, attention was directed to the urgent need ofsupport for ongoing acquisitions for the law library.There were ample opportunities for committeemembers to assess the capabilities of members ofthe faculty. Professor Franklin Zimring spoke onfamily law at the November 30 luncheon. Onesession of the two-day meeting was concernedwith the teaching of antitrust law and of in surance. In all, twelve members of the facultywere participants in various sessions.Student-related issues were given a prominentplace in the program. One full session, a follow-upto that of a year ago, was devoted to the problemsof admissions in the aftermath of the SupremeCourt decision in Bakke. Another session coveredthe school's expanding role in the placement ofgraduates. A third session was presented by students at the school: it gave them the floor to airtheir views of the school, its strengths andshortcomings.It is perhaps worthy of note that the formaltwo-day program is only one means for committeemembers to learn about the school. Of real importance are the many opportunities for committee members to meet with students and faculty.These informal gatherings have proved of value toall concerned.Undertaking to express a consensus for forty-plus members of a law school visiting committeeis hazardous. Certainly the performance of theschool's graduates attests to the quality of theeducational experience it offers. It is safe to saythat all of us left feeling closer to the school andinterested in helping in some way commensuratewith our respective capabilities.As you know, Gerhard Casper assumed thedeanship of the school last January and will puttogether the program for the committee this fall.Norval Morris has returned with considerable relish to the faculty of the school to join formerdeans Edward Levi and Phil Neal. To Dean Morris we extend our gratitude for his distinguishedleadership of the school these past years. And ourbest wishes to Frank Ellsworth as he leaves hismany friends at the law school to assume the presidency of Pitzer College in California.George A. RanneyChairmanMay 24, 1979THE UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO RECORDVICE PRESIDENT FOR PUBLIC AFFAIRSRoom 200, Administration Building163o zm r w o3D O 5ig -9%. J2P >3 oz - — 0) (OTAGDLLIN0.31 s1-* O «"^. — oCO 3