;theunivêrsityof chicagomagazine I*^V te**»*9èm3$mm<B3».¦f*: :ïï;\*>ftsusaga£&»•»THEUNIVERSITYOF CHICAGOMAGAZINEThe "Available" UniversityThomas Sowell 2The New MastersWayne C. Booth, Kenneth Northcott, Walter Walker 7The Silent Majority: Myth and RealitySidney Verba 10MovingTo the new Joseph Regenstein Library; to the new press offices 2034 Quadrangle News36 Chicago Books and Authors38 People40 AlumniNewsVolume LXIII Number 2November / December 1970The University of Chicago Magazine,founded in 1907, îs published rivetimes per year for ahimni andthe faculty of The University ofChicago. Letters and editorialcontributions are welcomed.The University of ChicagoAlumni Association5733 University AvenueChicago, Illinois 60637(312) 753-2175John S. Coulson, '36, PrésidentArthur R. NayerDirector of Alumni AfïairsGabriella Azrael, EditorJane LightnerEditorial Assistant Régional Offices1542 Riverside Drive, Suite FGlendale, California 91 201(213) 242-828839 West 55 StreetNew York, New York 100 19(212) 765-548030 Miller PlaceSan Francisco, California 94108(4i5) 433-40501629 K Street, N.W., Suite 500Washington, D. C. 20006(202) 296-81002nd class postage paid at Chicago,Illinois; additipnal entry atMadison, W'isconsin. © 1970, TheUniversity of Chicago. Publishedin July/October, November/December, January/February,March/April, and May/June.Cover: Entrance, the new Joseph Regenstein Library.Thomas SowellOne of the odd characters who appears from time to time in"Li'l Abner" is "Available" Jones, an enterprising man whosetime and talents can be rented for any purpose whatsoever. Ifyou want to impress your girl friend by outdoing someone insports or repartee, Available Jones can be hired to play the fallguy. Full of pent-up anger and frustration? Get it out of yourSystem by gïvitig Mr. Jones a good, hard kick in the behind, fora modest fee. The analogy with the modem university is ail tooapparent. But while Available Jones' occupation is seen as some-thing of an oddity, it is often considered reasonable, if not inévitable, that universities alone of ail institutions must serve thepurposes of others. No one expects a gas station to cater topedestrians, or churches to accommodate atheists, or a bar tomake teetotalers f eel at home. People go into one of thèse placesprecisely because they are in accord with its known purposes.But the university is expected to be "open" (to those uncon-cerned or contemptuous toward its goals), "relevant" (to thepurposes of other institutions and movements), "involved" (inactivities for which it has no spécial fitness), and "responsive"(to any demand whatsoever)— in short, available.The apostles of Relevance argue as if the only alternative wasa community of cloistered scholars talking only to each otherwhile the suffering of the world goes on outside. This argumentgoes to the heart of the question whether a university has anyintrinsic relevance or whether it must launch expéditions to goout and find relevance, and import it like some rare tropicalplant. A look at the agony and progress of man over the centuries might suggést some value in the systematic developmentof the human mind and a continuing relevance of disciplinedand informed thinking, in contrast to the kinds of viscéral reactions, heady rhetoric, and grandiose visions which hâve spreadso much blood and débris across the pages of history. Thetedious analytical dissection of ideas and problems, far frombeing a luxury of a leisure class, is a prime necessity for society'sThomas Sowell, PhD '68, is Associate Prof essor of Economies atthe University of California at Los Angeles. survival, much less its technical and social progress. Despite thisvital function which lies at the heart of a university 's rôle, it isclear that groups within the university, and sometimes wholeuniversities, hâve lost their sensé of purpose. Partly this is because the university's purpose has been obscured by an over-growth of additional and often conflicting activities. Therecognized importance of the university, which has caused it tobe maintained for centuries by societies far poorer than today's,has made it a "not property" in the hands of modem ' operators,"and its credentials an impressive backdrop for romantic postur-ing by adolescents of various âges, including faculty membersand administrators.The university, like every other institution of society, hasnever existed in a pure form designed to serve its idéal purpose.But it is nevertheless useful to note which of the alien featuresthat hâve been graf ted onto it hâve helped produce its currentmaladies. One of thèse has been the consuming désire to gainadditional money, power, and prestige by serving outside inter-ests—i.e., the pursuit of local and transient "relevance" ratherthan the gênerai and permanent relevance inhérent in the searchfor knowledge and understanding. Vocationalism, corrupt ath-letics, the establishment of "institutes" for some vested interest,"centers" for things currently making headlines, and "chairs" insome donor's pet idea are obvious examples. Another. has beenthe acceptance of bigger numbers as an index of success— en-rolments, buildings, faculty, news items, etc. The university hassold itself to the public as a véritable panacea for personal andsocial problems, playing on the credulous notion that processingeveryone through ivy-covered buildings for four years was "éducation" and therefore "a good thing." Its pretensions hâve beengreatly helped by the fact that even the worst éducation cannotprevent students from growing four years older in the courseof four years, and that it is rare for a young adult not to acquiresome éléments of maturity and miscellaneous information oversuch a span of time. Moreover, the university is necessarily atesting ground of sorts— of persévérance, if nothing else— sothat employers find collège degrees and records to be handyscreening devices, regardless of what was actually taught. This2in turn means that young people are forced to go to collège inéconomie self-defense. In short, the collèges and universitieshâve been in an idéal position to gain an ever-increasing captiveaudience. Now they are discovering that the audience can alsohold them captive.While there is justifiable outrage at disruptions and violenceon collège campuses across the country and around the world,this feeling is no défense of university administrators, who hâvebeen far too clever for anyone's good, or of those faculty mem-bers who hâve abdicated responsibility for anything beyondpersonal ambitions and departmental logrolling. The feeling ofoutrage is because underneath ail the cheap huckstering, thepetty intrigues and casual betrayals, there is something vital tothe life of the mind and the life of society, which cannot beallowed to be destroyed.The threat of destruction cornes not from the actual physicalassaults, disruptions, and turmoil on campus, for there is ulti-mately ample power to stop ail of this, but from the ambivalence,expediency, guilt, and apathy in which it flourishes, and which iswilling to buy it ofï at any price, provided only that convenientpayments be arranged in easy (though perpétuai) instalments.It is symptomatic of the underlyîng values involved that thepossibility of waking up some morning and finding a universitybuilding gutted by fire is the great fear; the prospect of wakingup some day and finding the whole meaning of the universitygutted does not arouse nearly as much concern.The current struggle on collège and university campuses islike some curious storybook battle in which one side has anoverwhelming superiority in material resources but the otherside possesses a few magie words that can spread confusion andparalysis among its opponents— in this case, "relevance," "black,""youth," and "idealism." While there is ample reason for theuniversity's loss of confidence in its moral position, which iswhat makes such words effective, the real question is whetherthe guilty ambivalence of one side and the dogmatic self-righ-teousness of the other are the ingrédients of an intelligent policyfor the future.Relevance-To What?So much of theoloose talk about relevance assumes that it issomething which can be determined a priori on the basis of thereactions of students while still studying a subject, rather thanan empirical question to be settled after having tested its application in a vâriety of situations over a period of years. The greatrush to be "relevant to the ghetto," for example, means in prac-tice putting together courses and progràms that will be f ayorably received by students from the ghetto or students interested inthe ghetto. It does not mean an attempt to put together coursesor progràms whose actual re suit s hâve proven to be bénéficiai insolving or ameliorating any major ghetto problem. The mostrelevant courses in the latter sensé might turn out to be dry,tedious studies in medicine, àccounting, or law— which is cer-tainly not what the relevance people hâve in mind. They wantto talk about the ghetto, or do studies that take them into theghetto, satisfying their own emotional needs but doing littlefor the ghetto. If such talk and such studies had any significantvalue, there hâve already been enough of both to make theghetto a paradise on earth. There isn't the slightest reason toexpect the coïncidence that those things which actually advanceblack people will simultaneously provide material for collègecourses which is any more exciting than the study of chemistry,physics, finance, and other dry studies which hâve helped advance other people.If the world were in f act as direct and obvious as the relevanceargument seems to assume, then of course the Whole elaborateand dreary paraphernalia of systemsitic abstract reasoning wouldbe unnecessary. There would be no need fôr ail the graphs inéconomies and ail the elaborate équations of probability in sta-tistics. Our social problems could be solved by the same kind ofdirect common sensé which told us, in the natural sciences, thatthe earth was flat and the sun moved around it. But the underlyîng assumption of ail scholarship is that things look verydifférent after systematic analysis than they do on the surface.If a university is going to proceed on the basis of the spon-taneous appeal of its offerings, then it is going to move in anon-intellectual (and often anti-intellectual) direction, muchlike the télévision industry which académies disdain— includingsome variant of the ratings ( and conséquent appeal to the low-est common denominator) and the other obtrusive features oftélévision: flamboyant, irresponsible statements by people having something to sell, glitter rather than substance, and in gênerai a présentation of a world of good guys and bad guys andshowdowns and "action" as ways of explaining and dealingwith the complexities of life. The search for villains— of whomthere is never a shortage— can replace the analysis of causation,if exciting courses with instant appeal are the goal. But if beinginteresting and exciting is going to be the guiding star of higheréducation, we must face the fact that mass émotions and massactions are always going to be more exciting than the lonelyprocess of intellectual development. If we cannot convince students that they must do what is necessary rather than what turnsthem on, we owe it to everyone to at least make the effort. There3is a sizable body of "sophisticated" opinion which opérâtes onthe theory that students cannot be reasôned with, but can onlybe "handled," meaning some judicious blend of partial concessions and fashionable talk. Conceivably they could be right, butto date the clever approach has not been notably successfuléither.No sane person wants éducation to be irrelevant or believesthat current educational practices are the ultimate perfection.The real question is— relevant to what? To what the studentwants as he sits in the classroom, or to what he will discoverfie needs, years later, after he has gone and probably cannotreturn? Is building a gênerai intellectual capability irrelevantbecause it is not exclusively relevant to the current headlinesand slogans? Is a method of asking questions and testing answersless relevant than a course on how to promote a preconceivedgoal? In the sloppy language of today, opposition to any par-ticular pattern of change is denounced as opposition to change,as such, and extravagant statements are made about the rigidityof the académie curriculum. Actually the opposite charge wouldhâve more substance: that American éducation, down throughthe years, has spent so much time getting on and ofï bandwagonsthat it has had little time for anything else.If universities in their venality had not tried to appeal towealthy donors by depicting their rôle as that of turning outpillars of the status quo— "well rounded" young men in someY.M.CA. or Junior Chamber of Commerce sensé— then perhapsit would not be so easy for others to think of it as a staging areafor révolution. Many young people actually believe that theirteachers are trying to fit them into the existing social "system"or "machine," not realizing that most teachers find it hardenough to get them to understand their subject, and perhapsgrasp something of the nature of intellectual inquiry in gênerai,without trying to plan their lives and the destiny of sociery aswell.Campus RevolutionariesThe Grand Illusion of campus revolutionaries is that the university is a microcosm of society at large, and that their victoriesthere foreshadow their coming success in overthrowing thehated Establishment. The university is in f act unique in a num-ber of ways which explain the revolutionaries' success there,despite their political insignificance riationally (except as aboon to people like Reagan, Yorty, George Wallace and SpiroAgnew). Universities get most of their wealth from outside.Collège officiais can buy peace with other people's money. Pro-4 fessors can buy peace and popularity by eroding standards, atthe expense of those conscientious students whose degrees willbe devalued, but at no cost to themselves,. Success in gainingconcessions under thèse conditions is no indication of what toexpect when it cornes to more direct and fundamental challengesin society at large.Campus revolutionaries sometimes engage in a kind of heads-I-win-tails-you-lose reasoning by which they argue that thé veryuproar against them shows the fear which they inspire in theEstablishment and, by implication, the realism of their plansfor révolution. What it really shows is that ( i )¦ the news médiafind that they make a colorful story, and (2) John Q. Publicfinds them répulsive, doesn't mind saying so, and votes forpoliticians who say so ( a f act not lost on the politicians ) . Thecorporations, banks, etc., hâve no reason to lose a moment'ssleep over them. The only kind of révolution student militantscan produce in this country is a right- wing révolution, and theywould hâve to get a lot stronger than they are to provoke that.In the university environment, student revolutionary leadersare far more realistic than most faculty members about what isreally involved in campus struggles. They understand that thename of the game is power. "Issues" are a means of mobilizingsupport and immobilizing opposition. The varions sacred"causes" to which student revolutionaries are "committed" areusually not too sacred to be ditched at the earliest convenientmoment after a campaign has gotten under way, and completelynew demands substituted— demands which go for the jugular ofpower. As many times as this old melodrama has been played,it might be expectèd that everyone would begin to follow theplot by now. But words hâve a heady fascination, especially forthose faculty members who cannot be bothered to analyze orwho cannot muster the moral courage for making choices.The usual apology for campus revolutionaries has been thatthey hâve "legitimate grievances" and that ail other methodshâve f ailed. It must be recognized that ( 1 ) ail unhappy situations are not grievances, that ( 2 ) even legitimate grievances donot excuse ail acts, and that (3) to say that any institution canbe brought to a hait as long as there are legitimate grievances—that is, as long as they are run by human beings— is to say thatthere can be ho institutions. Moreover, rational methods hâvenot "failed" because one party or faction did not get what itwanted. Given that there are always numerous contendinggroups demanding opposite things, every historical or conceiv-able system must "fail" by this standard.None of this dénies the need for changes, or even for sweep-ing changes, in universities. I would suggest, as a start, theabolition of académie tenure, prohibition of consulting fées, thedestruction of the teaching assistant system, élimination ofvarsity athletics, and drastic cutbacks in enrolments. Any académie is bound to hâve his own list. What is crucial is torecognize that no reforms are so désirable as to be achieved "atail cost," because beyond some point the methods used maynot leave anything worth reforming.A university is an intangible structure of reciprocal commit-ments and obligations, a hierarchy of skills (which no démocratie rhetoric can change), and an atmosphère of learning. Itis very easy to cripple or even destroy the intangible reality oféducation, even though the physical plant remains unscathedand the bureaucratie machine keeps turning undisturbed. Thisprocess of destruction is already well under way at a number ofinstitutions and is likely to become gênerai unless universityfaculties are prepared to abandon their old parlor game ofequally deploring this and that, and recognize that we live in aworld where choices hâve to be made, priorities assigned, andresponsibility taken.One of the popular non sequiturs of the day is that universities must be peculiarly bad institutions since they are peculiarlybeset with violent pro tests. The fact that violent pro tests arepeculiarly acceptable on university campuses is seldom consid-ered as a factor. If the average f actory worker could lock his bossin the office and denounce the fôreman as a "fascist pig" withimpunity, we might discover that universities hâve no moregrievances than many other institutions. But of course no oneexpects to grant to ordinary working people the kind of im-munity from légal rétribution for their actions which is commonfor collège students. It is ironie that this socially and econom-ically privileged group should now be demanding légal privilèges (amnesty) as well, in the name of democracy and themasses! That they can put their own boredom with the university in the same category with the sufferings of the poor is atribute to their gall, but that the rest of us take this seriously isno tribute to us at ail.Black EducationRace taps the depths of man's irrationality as few things can.In this area, intelligent and knowledgeable men say and dothings whose illogic and self-defeating conséquences would beapparent to them in any other aspect of life. There are no expertsin this field, and those who imagine that they hâve found TheTruth are the most untrustworthy guides of ail. Whether black students are brought to the university as partof the gênerai recruitment and admissions procédures or inspécial progràms, there is almost never a clear-cut définition ofpriorities beyond a nebulous désire to do good, make amends,or improve public relations. There are serious and lasting conséquences to not thinking through at the outset whether thegoal is to givt direct benefits tô needy individuals or to investin individuals in ways designed to maximize the return to theblack community and society at large. If the university is tryingto make the intellectual investment for which it is peculiarlyqualified, it will sélect the most able black students it can pos-sibly find as its vehicles; if it is trying to play Lady Bountiftd,its bias will be toward those who "need help" most, rather thanthose who can use it best. The second is the dominant approach,not only in universities but in social progràms supported by thegovernment and the foundations. They do not try to cultivatethe most fertile land, but to make the désert bloom. This is oftenhotly denied by officiais who insist that they are looking forthe best black people available— subject, it will usually turn out,to a séries of constraints or spécial emphases which make theoriginal statement meaningless. ^Most people are unaware of the extent to which the severeeducational problems of black collège students are functions ofthe manner in which they are recruited and selected, rather thansimpiy being the inévitable resuit of "cultural deprivation."There is no question that the overwhelming bulk of black youthhâve been given grossly inadéquate préparation in the publicschools. However, the overwhelming bulk of black youth donot go on to collège, and while the proportion of thèse youthwho are educationally well prepared for collège is very low, inab soluté number s there are literally tens of thousands of themwho are, by ail the usual indices— far toô many for the top universities to be forced to hâve as many inadequately preparedblack students as they do. The fact that standardized examina-tions may be less reliable for ethnie minorities than for othershas been used as a blanket excuse for recruiting and selectingblack students on ail sorts of non- intellectual criteria, from theideological to the whimsical. Progràms for black people tendto attract more than their fair share of vague humanitarians andsocio-political doctrinaires seeking to implement some spécialvision. Not ail are as obtuse as the spécial admissions committeefor black students at one Ivy League university who objected toadmitting three black applicants with Collège Board scores inthe 700's on grounds that they were probably— God forbid—middle class, and that there were other blacks applying who were5more "interesting" cases— but this gênerai kind of thinking isby no means rare. One conséquence of this is that, despite thebuzz of recruiting activity, there are many black students whobelong in the best collèges in the country who hâve not beenreached with the information and financial aid offers that wouldbring them there, and are languishing at some of the worstcollèges in the country. At the same time other black studentsare in over their heads at the top collèges, struggling— or beingmaneuvered— toward a degree.Faculty members are by no means exempt from the paternal-ism found in recruiting and admissions policies. Some profes-sors grade black students more leniently than they would gradeother students, and many hesitate to flunk them, either out ofhumanitarianism or a désire to avoid "trouble." One cynic saidof his black students, "I give em ail A's and B's; to hell withthem." At least he understood the conséquences of what he wasdoing. The double standard of grades and degrees is an opensecret on many campuses, and it is only a matter of time beforeit is an open secret among employers as well. The market canbe ruthless in devaluing degrees that do not mean what theysay. It should also be apparent to anyone not blinded by his ownnobility that it also dévalues the student in his own eyes.The greatest tragedy of the black man in America, afterslavery itself, has been the simple fact that his own ability hasalways been far less important than how he happened to fit inwith white people's preconceptions and emotional needs. Whatspécifie kind of black person would be fashionable with whitepeople has of course varied considerably over the years andbetween différent groups of white people at a given time. Buttoday's crop of white libéral and radical patrons of the mystiqueof "blackness" aire in no fundamental way différent from theold-time white Southerner who would accept any level of irre-sponsibility and incompétence from a Negro who met his preconceptions (who "knew his place"), and who had onlysuspicion or resentment for a black man with compétence, self-discipline, and capacity for hard work. At the height of the mostblatant racial oppression, white Southerners were full of thesame romantic notions about the spécial spiritual qualities andinsights of black people which are currently in vogue among themore "enlightened" intellectuals. Nor has this been an exclu-sively American phenomenon. It was the most unabashed apostleof British imperialism who said, "You're a better man than Iam, Gunga Din." The more things change, the more they remainthe same."Black studies" is one of the signs of our times. After years of history being written as if black did not exist, suddenly theirrôle was recognized, usually after a university building wasseized. Suddenly, hastily constructed black studies progràms be-gan springing up ail over the landscape, like intellectual shantytowns. Few things are more revealing than seeing white facultymembers rationalizing and romantieizing the black studies pro-gram on a campus where the black students are staying awayfrom it in droves.ConclusionsThe university created a Frankenstein when it cast itself in therôle of panacea for personal and social ills. A feeling has devel-oped that anything worth doing at ail is worth doing at a university. Even our revolutionaries believe that you must go tocollège in order to make révolution. Some people want to seethe university itself go off like a knight on a white horse to slaythe dragons of social injustice. A more apt analogy would be aman charging into hell with a pitcher of ice water. The university 's resources for direct social action are grossly inadéquateto make a dent in the problem. Its greatest contribution wouldbe to turn out people who are intellectually equipped to dealwith social problems in ways that produce tangible results ratherthan symbolic acts. If a university is going to make a real contribution, it must make it as a university, not as a gênerai fix-itshop. A prolifération of Quixotic endeavors may produce moreglowing feelings and more good publicity, but it is a waste ofspecialized resources that can do more in the uses for whichthey were meant than anywhere else.Practically every campus has a contingent of faculty memberswho are not above misappropriating the money, facilities, andgood name of their institution for purposes of making them-selves feel noble. The more activist and doctrinaire of thèsefaculty members are absolutely impervious to logic and are prepared to explain away any facts. They cannot be persuaded; theycan only be counteracted— and this can happen only if the greatbulk of the faculty are prepared to corne out of their laboratoriesand studies and sit on admissions comrriittees, meet black students as individuals, and constantly monitor the décisions ofadministrators who are preoccupied with getting immédiateproblems ofï their necks without worrying about long-run conséquences (the long run being any time after next week). Itis a shame that highly traihed people must dévote precious timeto miscellaneous campus activities, but the alternative is to leavegut décisions up to the operators and the doctrinaires, and wehâve seen how that has turned out.6Wayne C. BoothKenneth Nor thcottWalterWalker(MlcîlcuiltlnotciY.A sullen wit once commented that "life in a University of Chicago dormitory exactly illustrâtes what Thomas Hobbes saidabout the life of a man in a state of nature: solitary, poor, nasty,brutish, and short." The new dormitory program is designed tomake at least some of thèse adjectives inapplicable.Because the University was until récent décades predomi-nantly a "commuter institution," we got into the "dormitorybusiness" reluctantly and late. A report of the Advisory Com-mittee on Housing published in 1965 said "Unfortunately, thelast two résidences built by the University— Pierce Tower andWoodward Court— suffer badly in comparison with housingbuilt by other schools with which the University competes forstudents. Doubtless, the point will be heard that students preferto live in Spartan or slum conditions at a low rental. But thefact is that students now in the newer dormitories complain notso much about the high rent as about the inadequacy of thefacilities The Committee recommends that housing for un-married students should be of a considerably higher quality thanthat built hère in the récent past. In particular, space per studentshould be considerably greater; there should be less doublingup in bedrooms . . . and more generous provision should be madefor accommodations other than sleeping rooms. Existing facili ties in Woodward and Pierce Tower should be upgraded signifi-cantly."On the basis of this and other studies, we decided, in planningfor the entering class in 1969, that drastic steps were required,both in and out of the dormitory. After much debate ( and withsome misgivings about possible public misunderstandings ofany quick drop in enrollment ) we decided to eut the size of theentering class from about 700 to about 500; the Collège Council,the Council of the University Senate, the administration, and theboard ail agreed that a eut was needed to allow for smallerclasses and more personal attention in the classroom, for agreater number of undoublings in the dormitories, and in gênerai to ensure that students would corne to feel less like second-class neglected citizens in what was primarily a graduate institution. [Somehow the notion has been spread this fall, amongpublic and alumni, that the Collège has been hit by an unwanteddrop in enrollment. In fact, we are almost exactly on target. Onthe admissions side, we had the largest percentage of acceptancesin our history, leading to a considerably larger freshman classfor 1970-71 than we had planned for.]But it was clear that simply reducing crowded conditionscould not be enough. Something had to be done to integratethe life of the dormitory and the académie life of the University.True, there had beén some outstanding "house heads" in thepast, but very few heads had been faculty members; the livingconditions provided in the dormitories were not, in fact, invitingfor faculty members. The success of the houses under stronglieads, and in particular under those men and women who hadfaculty status, led us to believe that a major effort should bemade to increase their number.How do you make a "dormitory" into a Hall— an arm of theUniversity, a genuine part of the community? Taking somehints from past efforts both hère and at other universities, wehâve settled on two immédiate steps, now that we hâve finally"undout>led" (at considérable expense) enough rooms so thatstudents who want singles can hâve them. The first is to radicallyimprove the apartments for résident heads and their families,both for the sake of attracting faculty and other mature couplesThe new Résident Masters are Wayne C. Booth, the George M.Pullman Prof essor in the Department of English and formerDean of the Collège; Kenneth J. Northcott, Prof essor and Chair-man of the Department of Germanie Languages and Literatures;and Walter L. Walker, Vice Président for Planning and Prof essor in the School of Social Service Administration.7and for the sake of providing more attractive quarters for housesocial life. The resuit has been that the "pool" of applicantsfrom which the heads are selected has been greatly increasèd,and in conséquence the number of strong houses— houses^ inwhich the fifty-or-so students are not simply isolated wayfarersbut feel themselves part of a genuine community— is increasing.Everyone concerned feels that there is still a long way to go, butthere is good reason to believe that over the next few years thewhole tone of house life can be transformed.The second step, more widely publicized, has been the création of three "master-apartments," one in each of the largesthalls, to house a "senior" faculty couple to serve as RésidentMaster. The apartments are ail first-class, permanent additionsto thè physical resources of the Collège; ail are sufficiently largeand attractive to constitute a considérable addition to the facili-ties for students' social life: the "living room" becomes in effectan additional student lounge, supervised of course by the Master and his wife (since it is their home) but adding fréquentand varied social and académie expériences within the patternof hall life.It is of course too early— less than two months after the begin-ning of the master's progràms— to form any conclusions aboutthe success of the idea; no one has had much time for gêneraiassessment, in the midst of fréquent entertaining and while stillputting up bookeases, hanging pictures and waiting for elec-tricians to get doorbells and thermostats installed. But we threeMasters hâve set down some of our impressions— as a prelimi-nary indication of what can be expected from the program.Woodward CourtThe apartment into which Phyllis and I hâve moved, with oursixteen-year-old daughter, Alison, was built in what was theeast wing of the U-shaped Woodward Court dining hall. It isa spacious, extremely pleasant apartment (more than 3,000square feet, with a living room-dining room area of more than1,000 square feet— and with thirteen-foot ceilings! ).We hâve spent a good share of our time so far in giving din-ners for students and faculty guests; each of the 310 students inthe Court hâve by now been invked to at least one dinner, andbecause of the size of the rooms, the patience and care of mywife, and the generosity of faculty, we hâve been able to providea "faculty-student ratio," as current jargon has it, that allowsfor long leisurely talk among faculty and students. The éducation that goes on at those tables cannot be measured in grades or crédits, but we know from observation and testimony thatmany students hâve already found it important. But there areless dramatic and more spontaneous hints of what we are hèrefor: when a student drops in to ask wjiether you hâve readReport from Iron Mountain and to ask whether it is a satireand how you can tell; or when the students at dinner argue withyou about the reasons for gênerai éducation requirements; orwhen a girl hails you in the entry and asks "How did you likethe Jennie Tourel récital?"— at exactly the same spot whereanother student a week or so before had asked your opinionof the rock concert at the Aragon; or when a résident head whoteaches humanities tells of a discussion in his house which wasobviously a great humanities class, though not billed as suchon anybody's crédit books.Once we hâve become acquainted with everyone in the Courtthrough the dinners, we plan a séries of sherry hours, teas, andsmaller dinners, featuring sometimes spécifie topics, sometimesfaculty and community "stars," sometimes activities like theChamber Music Afternoon and the Play Reading Evening thatare scheduled this month. The large walls of the apartment aresplendid for hanging paintings, and we hâve already had thepainter of one we are now "exhibiting" corne to explain herprinciples and methods of work to students who are interested.Meanwhile we are working on a variety of problems in theCourt, on developing a viable Court council of students, onbuilding a student food committee with effective procédures fordealing with complaints about food and other services, and mostimportant, on the old problem of developing a responsible community that can deal with infringements of individual rights.Students thèse days need both privacy and community, free-dom and a sensé of responsibility. But it seems especially difiicultfor students in this génération to take responsibility for dis-ciplining, or even remonstrating, with each other when rightsare infringed. Rules in the dormitories are few: "House Auton-omy" has been officially adopted, and this means that ail rulesexcept those involving légal problems, like drugs, are deter-mined by the House or by the Court. But it is widely felt that"House Autonomy" too often means individual irresponsibility.An institution of higher éducation should be educational inits living arrangements as well as in its classrooms, laboratories,and libraries. Woodward Court may not yet be a true Hall. Butit could become so, and if it does, the resuit might be a veryimportant contribution not only to this University but to theongoing debates about what kinds of éducation are désirable—or even possible— in the 1970 's. wayne c. booth8Pierce TowerThe new Masters program at the University is, of course, stillin its infancy and there hâve been, are, and will be a lot of"bugs" in the whole system, iî indeed it can yet be called a System. Physical, budgetary, and administrative problems hâve besetus^all, but it is my hope that thèse problems will be ironed outand by next September the Résident Master will hâve becomean established Chicago tradition, for I believe that the Mastersprogram is something which will improve communicationthroughout the University. For too long many an enteringfreshman has felt out of touch with the senior facujty and administration of the University. Despite the sophistication andémancipation of today's eighteen-year-olds, there are still manywho stand in awe of "the professor." In addition there is thecurrent cliché of dîslike and distrust of the "establishment."Now, suddenly, a vice président, an ex-dean, and a departmentalchairman are ail living in dormitories, eating dormitory food,accessible for relaxed conversation and discussion of politicaland social issues. There is much to be learned from this newsituation on both sides.As the program devëlops, I hope a whole range of intellectualand cultural activities can be pursued with the students. Shortof that ( considerably ) it is perhaps usef ul to know that a formaidinner party, in collar and tie, can be fun, even with a "professor," a Wice président," or other members of the "establishment." KENNETH J. NORTHCOTTBurton-Judson CourtsThe University of Chicago as an institution is extremely difficultto comprehend. This is true for ail of us who are affiliated withthis University, and it is especially true for students. When Iaccepted the appointment as Master of Burton-Judson Courts,I assumed that a considérable part of my time in the dormitoryshould be spent in the interprétation and examination of iristi-tutional imperatives with the students.When I accepted the appointment, I also assumed that I couldbe useful to the students by helping to acquaint them with thefull range of resources and opportunities available in Chicagoas a city. I am convinced that many students corne to Chicago,go to class, and go to the airport without ever appreciating thecity that is their host during the time they are enrolled at theUniversity. For many of them, the city is a forbidding placefraught with dangers that were foreign to their suburban en-virpnment. It is my conviction that for students to spend their time hère tied to the campus because of fear is a great waste ofour most precious national resource, the minds of our youth.The spread of narcotics and other forms of crime to the suburbsstands as a monument to the human folly that suggests that onecan avoid problems by simply moving away and ignoring them.For the most part, the students on this campus are learninghow to live in an urban environment. They are learning that byexercising reasonable caution they can exploit the resourcesavailable to them in the city without undue hazard to them-selves. I view it as a part of my function to help students toexploit the rich resources available to them on the urban scène.Proceeding toward the goals that I hâve laid out for myselfand the résidents of Burton-Judson involves the coopération ofan impressive array of people. My wife and children are oftenvery much involved. My wife spends much of her time talkingwith students about their concerns and about their aspirations.My children provide a relief from the monotony of living andstudying in an atmosphère in which the yast majority of theparticipants are between the âges of eighteen and twenty-five.Consider the impact on a serious conversation by the entranceinto a room of a six-year-old boy with a halloween mask and ablanket thrown over his shoulders representing superman's cape.Suffice it to say that it is extremely difficult to be pious, pom-pous, or self-righteous about discipline, group living, or anyother subject in the face of a masked marvel who in real life isyour six-year-old son.The buildings and grounds, housekeeping, and kitchen staffshâve been a valuable source of support in our attempts to en-hance the quality of life in Burton-Judson. Their response toboth the reasonable and unreasonable desires of the résidents,résident heads, and the master has served to bring the Courtstoward the goal of making institutional living more amenableto the purposes for which a student cornes to the University.Many faculty members and city notables hâve contributed toour enrichment program. Under the lofty title "Conversationswith the Master" we hâve had a séries of biweekly sessions whichthus far has brought a politician, représentatives of local community organizations, a bank président, and a physician toBurton-Judson to participate in conversation with the studentsand the Résident Master.The most important élément of the Master 's function for mehas been the continuai dialogue that takes place within theCourt. The opportunity to teach and to learn is so rich that Iam not sure when I will return to a "normal" life.WALTER L. WALKER9Sidney VerbaTHE SUENT MAJORITT: MTTH & REALITTIn his speech of November 3, 1969, Président Nixon introducedthe concept of the "silent majority." The protesters against thewar in Indo-China, he suggested, are a small and unrepresenta-tive group. The larger group of American citizens, from whomone hears less, is quite différent. It may be troubled by the war,as the Président said he was troubled, but it also backs the Président in wanting to avoid defeat. It was to this silent majoritythat the Président appealed.Rarely has a concept entered common political discourse asquickly. The Administration and the supporters of the Administration invoke the silent majority when they seek to demonstratethat the American people are behind them. Anti-war groupssuddenly corne to believe that they are opposed not merely tothe Administration but to the bulk of the American people.Sehators and congressmen calculate the conséquences of thepositions they take in terms of their réception within the silentmajority. And— what may be most striking— citizens from ailThe author, a prof essor of political science and senior study di-rector at the National Opinion Research Center, is a leadingspecialist in the comparative study of political attitudes. Thisarticle also appeared in Vietnam and the Silent Majority: theDove's Guide by Milton ]. Rosenberg, Sidney Verba and PhilipE. Converse (Harper & Row) this fall. walks of life find a new group identity; they find themselvesmembers of the "silent majority."But is there really a silent majority? Or are we dealing with acleverly designed symbol? The best answer is a qualified "yes"to both questions. The silent majority is not mère myth; there isreality to the notion. But it is a reality more complicated thanthe monolith suggested by the President's speech and feared bymany opposed to the Président. And over and above this reality,the "silent majority" as a symbol has a spécial meaning and importance. As a symbol it stands as one of the more brilliant political inventions of récent years. Let us consider this symbol firstbefore we consider the reality of public opinion behind it.The Symbol of the "Silent Majority"As a symbol, the "silent majority" is more important for thereality it créâtes than the reality it describes. Whether or notthere was a silent majority before the President's speech, his useof the term goes a long way to making the silent majority real.It is a symbol that pits the opponents of the war against the bulkof the American population. As such, it may be self-confirming;for many Americans unhappy about the course of everits in thiscountry may find the silent majority a most congenial group ofwhich to be a member. They may indeed begin to behave as thePrésident expects the silent majority to behave. A citizen might10H *~*È*-3$**!-s»' '-»!w4MÉHrvjj& ~<n~. : ~.r*ï8& ".. • r-.v;.:-;fe(î- mWSt "M-5*S£i9p ¦fi.-..«6^-1!» •^^)w««j».;:t|'S»-i*#*vsay to himself, "I hâve not marched against the war. I am not avocal opponent and I don't much like the vocal opponents. Imust be a member of the silent majority. I must be behind thePrésident." Thus a group is born. And since few hâve marchedagainst the war and few hâve been vocal opponents— at least ifone consider s the American public as a whole— this new groupcan be potentially quite large.Conversely, if the opponents of the war believe that there is asilent majority united in opposition to them, they may act insuch ways that make it more likely that such a majority willactually develop. If those opposed to the war accept the symbolof the silent majority as an accurate picture of reality, they arelikely to wr ite it off, or to denounce it, or to ridicule it. And inthe process they give the silent majority a greater reality andswell its numbers.The silent majority as a symbol may, therefore, be a powerfultool in the hands of the Administration. It can use it to build itsown support and to isolate and undercut those wrho seek to endthe war rapidly and completely.The Reality of the "Silent Majority"But what is the évidence about the silent majority? Is there sucha thing? And does it hâve the characteristics attributed to it bythe Président?To understand the nature of public opinion on the war and tounderstand why one often hears contradictory things about it,one has to understand something about the public opinion poil.It is the main technique used to find out about public opinionon the war. The White House constantly monitors the results ofthe Gallup and Harris Poils and poils are conducted especiallyfor the Administration. It is not unlikeiy that Président Nixondrew on such poil results for his discussion of the silent majority.Public Opinion Polling on the WarModem public opinion polling techniques are quite powerfuland, in gênerai, quite accurate. And they are particularly apt forunderstanding a silent majority. The pollster does not wait untilpeople contact him to give their views. Rather he seeks out thosehe interviews and seeks them out in such a way as to obtain asample of people représentative of the whole population. Agood pollster will speak to those who are ordinarily silent andinactive as well as to those who make their voices heard in otherways.But the public opinion poil is a complicated and délicate instrument. It can produce quite varied results depending uponhow it is used. It can produce quite misleading results depending upon how those results are interpreted. Indeed, in the hands of askillful pollster, a poil can be made to produce most any resultsone wants. It can make the public look hawkish, it can make thepublic look dovish. It can make the public look confused, it canmake the public look certain. It ail dépends on how and whenthe questions are asked. Since so much of the answer to thequestion, "What is the reality of public opinion on the war?"dépends upon the technique used in answering the question, weought to make a few remarks on the pitfalls involved in polling.The responses that one gets from a poil dépend upon thequestions one asks. The person trying to understand the natureof American opinion on the war in Indo-China must keep thatfact in mind. The "reality" that even the most accurate poil tellsus about— and the leading poils are quite accurate— represents aset of answers to a set of questions posed by the pollster. Therefore, that reality dépends very heavily on how questions areworded, and often on some subtle nuances of phrasing. Thecasual observer is often not aware of how much variation thereis among similar-sounding questions and how much that variation can affect the results one finds.The difhculties that can arise from difïering questions hâvealready been demonstrated. In the summer of 1966, for example,seventy per cent of the people interviewed by the Gallup Poilsaid they approved the bombing by the U. S. of oil storage dumpsin Haiphong and Hanoi, eleven per cent disapprôved, and theremainder had no opinion. Two months later the same organiza-tion sampled opinion about the demand of many "doves" thatthe U. S. submit the Vietnam problem to the United Nations"and agrée to accept the décision, whatever it may be." In thiscase fifty-one per cent of the sample thought the proposai was"a good idea" and only thirty-two per cent disliked it. The readerwho considered this resuit to be three to two in favor of thedoves and compared it with the apparent majority of seven toone for the "hawks" a few weeks earlier might hâve had causeto wonder about the solidity of public opinion or the soundnessof polling procédures. In actuality the confusion lies in toosimplistic a view of the results, since the questions were quitedifférent and could not be expected to give commensurateresponses.A more subtle problem is presented when questions identicalin purpose differ markedly in wording or format. In June, 1969,the Gallup Poil told respondents that the Président had "orderedthe withdrawal of 25,000 troops from Vietnam in the next threemonths" and asked for opinions on whether "troops should bewithdrawn at a f as ter or a slower rate." "Faster" won over"slower" by forty-two per cent to sixteen per cent, with twenty-12nine per cent refusing the alternatives presented and insteadspontaneously declaring agreement with the Président. Scarcelythree months later the Harris Poil asked a similar question butpresented three choices: "In gênerai, do you feel the pace atwhich the Président is withdrawing troops is too fast, too slow,or about right?" Again the équivalent of "f aster" won over"slower," by twenty-nine per cent to six per cent, but this timeforty-nine per cent approved the current rate. The key to thedifférence in the two results lies in the fact that the Gallupformat made it easier for the respondents to disagree with theexisting rate of withdrawal by not offering the "about right"alternative.One of the reasons why subtle changes in the wording of aquestion produce différent responses is that many of the peopleof whom the pollster asks questions do not hâve very well-formed and deeply-held opinions on the matters about whichthe pollster is asking. They are likely to be responding to aquestion to which they hâve not given much or any previousthought. This means that the wording of the question makes abig différence in how they reply. It also means that the answersthat any individual gives can possibiy change easily from day today. If an individual has not given serious thought to a question,his answers are likely to be off-hand. If the pollster were to corneback the next day, a somewhat différent answer might beobtained.The fact that people do not hold very well-formed and thoughtout opinions on public issues— even issues as important and well-debated as the war in Indo-China— explains many of the incon-sistencies and seeming rapid changes in public opinion. Thespécifie words that go into a question asked by a pollster maybe positive or négative symbols to an individual. Thus peoplereject such words as "defeat," "Communist take-overs," and "theloss of American credibility," and émerge "hawkish." On theother hand, the American public will reject "killings," "con-tinuing the war," and "domestic costs," and émerge "dovish."Turning the matter upside-down, we see the same thing. TheAmerican public supports "American prestige," "défense ofdemocracy," and "support for our soldiers in Vietnam," at thesame time coming out in support of "peace," "worrying aboutour own problems before we worry about the problems of otherpeople," and "saving American lives."Thus it is possible, even in the same poil, to hâve the American public sounding like hawks and doves at the same time. Butthèse seeming inconsistencies are simply not that inconsistent;they are due to the alternative question wordings. Lastly, weshould point out that many Americans do, in fact, hold incon sistent views on the war. They favor sets of policies that are notcompatible one with another. Such inconsistency can be main-tained by the average citizen because Vietnam is distant, and theaverage citizen does not hâve to face the conséquences of onepolicy choice rather than another. This becomes more difficultas the war becomes more and more salient. It is this fact— theinconsistency of many opinions plus the growing salience of thewar— that provides some of the more fertile ground for attitudechange toward the war.There is one positive symbol whose importance in the shapeof American opinion on Vietnam cannot be overrated. This isthe symbol of the Presidency itself. Where individuals are un-certain about what is right and what is wrong or where they donot hâve much information and hâve not given the problemmuch thought, they are likely to lean upon authority figures asa way of arriving at an opinion on the matter. And the most important authority figure in our society is the Président. Thismeans several things: When individuals are asked questionsabout "whether they support the Président," there is immedi-ately a broad-scale pressure for positive answers. Furthermore,when the Président appears on télévision to announce a majordécision or to describe some crisis, there is an immédiate andwide tendency for the American public to rally to his support.This fact has been reflected in many public opinion poils. If thePrésident makes a major increase in the war or a major decreasein the war, the support he receives from the public is likely togo up. It may not stay up as people find out that the change inpolicy does not really make much différence, but there usuallywill be a rallying of gênerai support. This means, of course, thatthe ability of the Président to manipulate public opinion in hisfavor may be great indeed— at least in the short run.The rôle of presidential prestige and the willingness of theAmerican public to go along with presidential activities oncehe has acted can be seen rather clearly in the reaction to Président Nixon's décision to send troops into Cambodia at the endof April, 1970. As presidential actions go, this was perhaps oneof the least popular actions of the Indo-China war. Yet, the dataare most striking.On the eve of the Cambodian invasion, the Harris Poil askeda sample of the American population how they would feel aboutthe commitmént of American troops to Cambodia. Only sevenper cent favored sending troops while fifty-nine per cent rejectedsuch a commitmént. Twenty-three per cent approved the sending of advisers and the rest were undecided.What happened a few days later when the Président did commit troops? When the Harris Poil asked sortie spécifie questions*3about the likely conséquences of the Cambodian incursion, theresults suggested that the American people were quite skepticalabout the venture. Only tweive per cent of those interviewedafter the invasion thought that the Président would be able toredeem his pledge of removing ail American troops from Cambodia by the end of June, 1970; only tweive per cent thought thatthe Cambodian incursion would shorten the war, while a grouptwice as large thought that it would prolong the war. (The restthought it would not change the length of the war or had noopinion.) Furthermore, a majority (fifty-three per cent) thoughtthat the Cambodian invasion would widen the war while onlythirty-three per cent thought that the invasion was— as the Président argued it was— a preventative measure aimed at containingthe war. In short, the responses to thèse questions suggest anAmerican public quite unconvinced by the rationale providedby the Président.But despite the very small number who favored sendingAmerican troops to Cambodia before the Président did just thatand despite the skepticism and appréhension of a very large majority after they were sent, when the Harris Poil asked whetherNixon was right in sending troops, more said "yes" than "no."Fifty per cent agreed with Nixon's décision while forty-threeper cent had doubts. (Harris Poil release, May 25, 1970.)Thèse data vividly illustrate the prestige of the Présidentwhen he acts and the malleability of American opinion. Thewide gap between the seven per cent who favored sending troopsbefore they were sent and the fifty per cent who approved thePresident's décision after he had decided to send the troops is ameasure of the support he can arouse.At this point, someone trying to understand the nature ofpublic opinion on the Indo-China war might be puzzled indeed.What is one to make of this disparity? Is the support for thePrésident a superficial phenomenon that merely masks the fun-damental skepticism and opposition of the American public?Or is the converse true— that the expressed skepticism is but asuperficial phenomenon overwhelmed by the deeply felt commitmént to support the Président? Perhaps the somewhat para-doxical and confusing answer is that both are true, and a fullunderstanding of the nature of American opinion would hâve toconsider both aspects. The people can be skeptical of the policyin its spécifies yet rally to support the Président.The implication hère is that any bold and blanket statementthat the American public holds one position or another shouldbe greeted with great caution. What such statements usuallymean is that people hâve responded to particular questions inparticular ways. It also means that such terms as "hawks" and "doves" may be more misleading than helpful. An individualmay be a "hawk" if he is asked one question, he may be a tvdove"if he is asked another question. It means that any statement thatsuggests that there is a real and solid phenomenon called the"silent majority" with a well-defined set of members and a well-defined set of positions is probably wrong.The Shape of Opinion on the War in VietnamWhat then can be said about the overall shape of Americanopinion on the war in Vietnam? The first point that one mustkeep in mind in answering such a question is the immensediversity of the American population. Not ail people care aboutthe same problems, hold the same positions, or behave in thesame way. The most important distinction to make is degree ofinvolvement with the war in Indo-China. A study done in thespring of 1967— several years ago but still well after the timewhen Vietnam had become ,a major public issue and the subjectof much public protest— found that while most people in thecountry were seriously concerned about that problem, relativelyfew people had taken any active rôle vis-a-vis the war. Onlyabout two-and-one-half per cent of those interviewed said thatthey had ever written a letter to a government officiai or a news-paper on the war and less than one per cent ( eight cases out of1,500) said that they had ever taken part in a march or démonstration in relation to the war.Several points should be made about this. It does confirm thepoint suggested by Président Nixon that those who are mostvocal about the war represent a very small percentage of thepopulation. And that fact has an important implication. It warnsus that our perception of the reality of the American 'publicoften dépends upon what is done by a relatively small and highlyvisible group. Thus we sometimes stéréotype particular groupsbased upon what we see of the activities of a few. It is quitelikely, for instance, that the views of the American public as toboth students and "hard-hats" dépend upon this kind of stereo-typing. This is familiar in relation to collège students. Thosewho engage in violent activities are few in number but highlyvisible. When one is not on a collège campus, one may believethat ail students are violent or at least potentially violent. Furthermore, our views of the collège population corne from a relatively small number of campuses. Even when student protestsspread in an unprecedented way from such centers as Berkeleyand Yale to over 700 schools after the Cambodian invasion, onestill is dealing with a minority (about thirty per cent) of ailcollèges.MThe same type of stereotyping may hâve gone on in relation-ship to the "hard-hat" countef-protesters. It may well be thatthose construction workers who engaged in violent activitiesrepresent but a small and déviant group of the American work-ing class. The point is that when we are very distant from andunfamiliar with a group, we tend to view them as much moreuniform and homogeneous than they may in fact be. Thus thosewho are not students think ail students are alike. And those oncollège campuses may hâve similarly distorted views of theAmerican working class.It is easy to corne to distorted, stereotyped views of the publicor some part of the public for the simple reason that the activeand therefore visible parts of the public may be quite différentfrom those who are not active. This has been shown in manystudies of the active minority. The 1967 study mentioned earliershowed that only a handful out of a sample of 1,500 had takenpart in a démonstration against the war in Vietnam ( eight casesout of 1,500) and that relatively few (about two-and-one-halfper cent) had written a letter to a newspaper or congressmanabout the war. Seventyrfive per cent of the demonstrators favored a decrease in the war, sixty-three per cent of the letterwriters favored an increase in the war, but the public as a wholepresented a différent picture: about one-fourth wanted to main-tain the status quo, forty-nine per cent favored an increase whiletwenty-five per cent favored a decrease. The "increase- the- war"position is overrepresented among the letter . writers: almosttwo-thirds of the letter writers took this position in contrast withone-half of the public at large.Is it any wonder'that one can obtain conflicting impressionsof the state of public attitudes on the war? The data indicatehow one can obtain a distorted view of the nature of "silentmajority." It can appear more polarized against the anti-warforces than is in fact the case. Consider the congressman whofollows reports of the anti-war demonstrators. He knows theyrepresent a minority and he contrasts them with what he learnsof public opinion by reading his mail and by following theletters to the editor in his hometown paper. The "silent majority"he décides is clearly opposed to the peace position of those whodemonstrate. But he is not observing the "silent majority" at ail.Rather he is contrasting the demonstrators, who are a minority,with the somewhat larger minority that writes letters to news-papers. Thus the view of polarization in the society and thebelief in the pro- war quality of the silent majority grows— andgrows based on a misperception of reality.Ail of this illustrâtes the complex combination of myth andreality involved in the silent majority. The congressman would, in fact, be correct in contrasting the demonstrators with the bulkof the American population. The former are few in number andare not représentative of the views of the average American. Butin drawing this contrast between the many and the few, thedanger is that the view of what the many— the silent majority—stand for may become quite distorted.Once we hâve faced the fact of complexity and diversitywithin the American public, is there nothing that can be saidgenerally about the shape of public opinion? There are somegeneralizations to be made about that opinion, particularly ifone follows closely its changes over time. The two clearest andmost certain trends are that the war has grown in importancein the consciousness of the American people and that this hasbeen accompanied by a growing uneasiness and disillusionment.A décade ago, the American attitude was one of inattentivetolérance toward the United States government's action in SouthVietnam.But the growing consciousness of the war has been accompanied by a steady growth in disillusionment. In 1965, theGallup Poil found about twenty-two per cent of the Americanpeople who thought that our entry in the war in Vietnam was amistake. The number has risen steadily in the past five years.Since early 1969, the Gallup Poil has consistently found overfifty per cent of its samples reporting that our entry into the warwas a mistake.Thèse trends are quite clear, but one must be quite cautiousin how one interprets them. Those who hâve considered them-selves "doves" for a long time and who hâve been active in op-posing the war might look at thèse data and conclude that thepeace movement is growing and that many Americans are join-ing them in their principled and moral répugnance to the warand their désire for immédiate withdrawal of American troops.Such an interprétation might best be labelled wishful thinking.The disillusionment with the war ought not to be read as a massive switch of American opinion in favor of the peace movement. Two points must be kept in mind: ( 1 ) those who aredisillusioned with the war may not thereby favor withdrawal oftroops but may favor escalating the war to get it over, and (2)even those whose disillusionment leads them to favor the withdrawal of troops may hold that position for reasons quite différent from those that motivate the members of the peace movement. Let us consider eàch of thèse points in turn.Among those who hâve become disillusioned by the war, notail by any means favor a withdrawal of American troops as ameans of ending it. A Survey Research Center finding in 1968 isa case in point. Respondents were asked not only if the commit-15ment in Vietnam was a mistake but also which of three coursesshould be pursued: pulling out, preserving the status quo orescalating. As one would expect, there was a tendency for peoplewho thought the intervention was right to favor a stronger standin the future and for people who deplored the intervention tofavor withdrawal. Nonetheless, among those who viewed thewar as a mistake, almost as many favored escalation as were forwithdrawal! Ail told then, a three-to-five majority regretted theoriginal intervention, but at the same time, those calling for "astronger stand even if it means invading North Vietnam" out-numbered those advocating complète withdrawal by about aslarge a margin.In part, an understanding of this aspect of American opinionrequires the distinction made earlier between relatively soft andchangeable opinions and those opinions that are harder, morewell-crystallized, and less likely to change from day to day. Thedisillusionment and unhappiness with the war is probably thelatter kind of opinion. The unhappiness with the war is a firmlyheld and fairly deep opinion that has been growing over time.On the other hand, the opinion about what ought to be done toremedy this unhappy situation— should we remedy the situationby pulling out our troops or by escalating the war to quickervictory?— is a much softer opinion that may change from day today and be more easily manipulated by the initiative of thePrésident. Thus one day an individual might tell an interviewerthat the war was indeed a mistake, that he was sick of it and thathe therefore favored pulling out American troops to end it. Ifthe interviewer were to corne back a few days later, he wouldfind the same individual still reporting his disillusionment andunhappiness with the war but he might find him saying that hewould end the war by "bombing the hell out of them." Indeed,many Americans seem to hold the mixed opinion of "we oughtto win or get out" which combines both pôles at the same time.The second reason why one ought not to assume that thegrowing-disillusionment with the war represents a recruitmentfor the peace movement is that even those who favor a speedierend of the war may do so for reasons quite différent from thoseheld by members of the peace movement. For the members ofthe peace movement, opposition to the war may be based onprofound moral outrage and a clear set of beliefs as to the inap-propriateness and immorality of American involvement in warssuch as that in Indo-China. This belief may be accompanied bya sophisticated and differentiated understanding of the nature ofnationalist movements, of the complexity and diversity withinthe Communist nations, and of the weakness, unreliability, andcorruption of the Saigon government. To people who hold such views on Indo-China, thèse views are likely to be part of an evenmore gênerai belief system about the proper use of Americanresources, the appropriate priorities at home and abroad, andthe rôle of violence in world affairs. In short, the opposition tothe war is part of a well-crystallized, firmly held set of beliefsabout the nature of world politics and the nature of America.Such views do not change easily, are not affected by shifts inpresidential policy, and become deeply held parts of the ways inwhich individuals face the world.But it would be a grave mistake to assume that everyone whoopposes the war opposes it for the same set of reasons, or thatthose who are not in opposition to the wrar would best and mosteasily be moved to opposition by the former's arguments.Rather, it is probably true that the bulk of those Americans whohâve corne to oppose the war hâve corne to oppose it for differ-ing reasons. If one were to generalize, one would say that theopposition has pragmatic roots; that people oppose the war because it is intruding into their lives and hurting them in waysthat are very close to home. Perhaps one could crudely character-ize their position as follows: "I wish the damned war would justdisappear. It is really messing up our lives and messing up thiscountry."What are some of the ways in which people may corne tothink that the war is messing up their lives? The most deeplyfelt opposition to the war may involve the way in which the warintrudes itself into our domestic life:i. One major reason for opposition to the war is probablybased on an économie pinch. One might safely say that opposition, to the war among the gênerai American public is morelikely to grow in close relationship to the décline of the economyor the Dow Jones average or the rise in the cost of living than itis to change in relationship to the amount of violence going onin Vietnam itself. In one of the earliest depth studies done ofattitudes toward the war, it was found that many more Americans were willing to accept several hundred American casualtieseach week as a price of continuing the war than were willing toaccept a rise in taxes (shown in a Stanford, California Survey,1966). And one of the most négative responses to any policyproposai for the Vietnam war appeared when the Gallup Poilasked in 1967 about a "suggestion" that "income taxes be raisedto help pay for the war in Vietnam": seventy per cent of therespondents were opposed. In contrast, one can point to thegênerai reaction of the reports of the massacre at My Lai, as re-ported in a Harris Poil in January, 1970, which can perhaps bestbe described as bland.2. Another source of opposition to the war may be the grow-16ing sensé among many Americans that the war is affecting the"quality of life" in America. Student riots, violence at home, thegrowth of a counter-culture that challenges many of their mostcherished values, may ail be seen as part of a gênerai détérioration of American life that has accompanied the continuing warin Vietnam. Thus, a strong basis for opposition to the war maylie in a gênerai feeling that our society is deteriorating around us.3. In addition, one ought to mention another reason for op-posing the war that may be quite différent from the set of reasons held by those in the peace movement. This would be abelief that we should hâve won the war because it is a good thingto beat Communism. But since we cannot seem to do so, wemight as well resign ourselves to it and get out. Thus we shallpréserve our strength to fight Communism elsewhere.4. This is not to say that opposition to the war because of theviolence and the seemingly never-ending destruction in Indo-China does not exist within the gênerai American outlook. Suchbeliefs exist as well and are important. And, indeed, such beliefsare based on some important parts of the dominant Americanideology.The main point is that there are many motivations for oppos-ing the war and wanting its swift end. And among many, andperhaps most American people, thèse motivations dérive fromthe way in which the war has intruded upon their own lives andtheir own concerns. Anybody who wishes eff ectively to deal withthat public and to persuade them to be more active or more firmin their opposition to the war would be unwise if he were toignore thèse varying bases of opposition.He would also be unwise if he were to be unaware of someother opinions that also tend to be held by Americans who areopposed to the war. What else can be said about those Americans who oppose the war but who do not fully share the set ofbeliefs characteristic of the peace movement? It would be anoversimplification to suggest that the following statements char-acterized ail non-peace movement opponents of the war, butthere is évidence that the following psychological and philo-sophical tendencies are important characteristics of the American public. They are characteristics of which one ought to beaware.1. Americans tend to be patriotic, to be proud of the fact thatwe hâve t(never lost a war},' and to be moved by the symbols ofpatriotism such as the flag. Such a position may not be incompatible with a position of opposition to the war and désire forwithdrawal, unies s it is made incompatible by those who wouldlink patriotism to a hawkish position and a désire to increasethe war. And such a linkage of the underlying forces of patriot ism with désire for an escalation of the war can corne from eitherof two directions. It can corne from those "superpatriots" whoraise the flag while they demand victory. And the link of patriotism with "hawkishness" can corne from those who burn the flagbecause they think it can only symbolize escalation and increasedmilitary involvement.This is a clear case where a misinterpretation of the silentmajority and what it believes can become a self-fulfilling proph-ecy and one that can be destructive of forces for peace. By con-fusing the commitmént of most Americans to America and itssymbols with support for aggressive foreign policies, the supporters of the Administration build that support while the opponents of the Administration lose opportunities for mobilizingsupport for their position.2. The American public is also generally anti-Communist .One can exaggerate this feeling; the American public is by nomeans as intensely concerned and worried about the "Com-munist menace" as some on the right think they should be andsome on the left think they are. In the midst of the anti-Communist hysteria of the McCarthy era of the early 1950's, SamuelStouffer found that the American people were opposed to Communism but were by no means obsessed by that problem. Theywere then, as they probably are now, more concerned with immédiate problems.Nevertheless, the public has a generalized antipathy towardCommunism as well as a relatively low ability to differentiateamong alternative Communist movements. As late as 1967, aquite large proportion of the American people believed that thesplit between the Soviet Union and China was really a fake thathad been staged to make the United States lower its guard. Thus,though many Americans may corne to favor a speedy end to thewar, most will do so with some serious regret if they believe thatthis will represent a victory for "Communism."3. No matter how the average American may feel about thewar in Vietnam, there is one thing on which he is likely to feelcertain and strongly. This is his opposition to strikes, démonstrations, and other forms of public protest against the war.Indeed, if there is any attribute that has consistently character-ized public opinion in the United States, it has been its opposition to protest démonstrations of ail sorts. In early June, shortlyafter the anti-Cambodian student movement arose, the GallupPoil asked the American public whether they agreed with student strikes as a means of protest. Fif teen per cent agreed whileeighty-two per cent disagreed. Indeed, it is interesting to notethat views on violence are stronger than on the war itself. Whileten to fifteen per cent had no opinion on the war, only three per17cent had no opinion on violence. This is not a manifestation ofthe génération gap or the resentment of the non-college groupto collège students. Young people and collège graduâtes weresomewhat more sympathetic to such strikes than the averageAmerican but they were still strongly opposed. The youngpeople (those twenty to twenty-nine) condemned strikes byseventy-three per cent to twenty-five per cent, while collègegraduâtes condemned them by seventy-three per cent to twenty-four per cent (Gallup Poil release June 4, 1970). Furthermore,in a Gallup release of June 18, it was reported that student protests had replaced the war as the "most important problem fac-ing the nation!"As an example of the way in which the wording of questionscan aff ect the results one gets, one should mention that a HarrisPoil taken at roughly the same time asked a similar question, butdid not use the word "strike." Rather it asked if people "sym-pathized" with the protests by students. On this more gentlyworded question, the opinion was not as strikingly anti-démonstration, though it still came out quite heavily against them. Inthe Harris Poil, fifty-two per cent condemned the démonstrations while twenty-seven per cent reported themselves sympathetic (thirteen per cent had little attitude on the subject andeight per cent were not sure). (Harris Poil, June 1, 1970.)The strong négative reaction to démonstrations by studentsmakes the possibility of a "backlash" to student involvement incongressional campaigns a matter of concern for those whowould hope to see such student activity aid the cause of peacecandidates. Such a possibility is real, but the data help us understand what kinds of activities are most likely to resuit in such abacklash. The strong and almost unanimous opposition to démonstrations, strikes and the like contrasts with the absence ofévidence of a backlash to student élection campaigning forEugène McCarthy. The "clean for Gène" movement which delib-erately avoided the négative symbols of the counter-culture andstayed within the confines of électoral politics did not seemto arouse resentment. And a study done in the summer of 1970after a large number of students from Princeton University tookpart in a primary campaign for a peace candidate in New Jerseyfound that while the students did not succeed— their candidatelost, but he would hâve anyway— there was no évidence of backlash. Indeed, the résidents of the district overwhelmingly thoughtstudent campaigning a good thing, even if they did not take theiradvice on how to vote. Indeed, in some paradoxical way, moreresentment is generated against students when four of them areshot at Kent State (by about rive to one the American publicthought the students and not the guardsmen were at fault) than there is generated to student involvement in élection campaigns.Again, this is not to say that a backlash to student campaigningis impossible. Rather it merely is to suggest that one cannot inf erthis from the négative reaction to student activities of othersorts.4. The Président knows best: I hâve already point ed out theimportance of the prestige of the presidential office. Many whodésire a rapid end of thè war may still believe firmly in the importance and wisdom of the presidency. And for others who aretending toward a full withdrawal position but hâve not yetreached it, one thing holding them back may be an unwilling-ness to go against the desires of the Président.5. For many Americans the problem of redeeming a bad in-vestment may be a serious one. Many more are willing to saythat the war was a mistake than are willing to call for a rapid endto it. So much has been invested, they may argue to themselves,that something should corne of it. Such a position may moststrongly characterize those who hâve made or who are makingpersonal sacrifices for the continuation of the war— those whohâve fought there, or who hâve relatives fighting there, or whohâve relatives who hâve been killed there. If the war ends intotal failure, if people believe that it is mistaken, immoral, andshould never hâve been fought, the sacrifice has no meaning.Such beliefs— because they are rooted in such deep personal expérience— may be hard to shake indeed.6. One last point must be made about public attitudes on thewar in Vietnam. For many members of the peace movement, theattitudes on the war are part of a more gênerai world view thatincludes attitudes on domestic American problems as well. It isquite likely (maybe almost certain) that the average collègestudent member of the peace movement not only opposes thewar in Vietnam, but opposes racism at home, thinks our environ-ment is going to hell, would like to see government support ofmédical services grow, and thinks Spiro Agnew is uncouth. Butamong the mass of the American people, attitudes across différent sets of policy issues may be totally unrelated to one another.That you know a man is a dove on the war in Vietnam does notnecessarily tell you that he is in favor of more rapid school intégration. That he is a dove on the war does not necessarily tellyou that he is a libéral or a radical in ail or any other matters.The point is a very important one, a well documented one, wellknown to professional students of public opinion. It is a point,however, of which many of those active in politics are unaware.And they are unaware of the point perhaps largely because theirown political positions tend to be more well crystallized andintégra ted than those we hâve just described; and they assume18others share the same set of consistent opinions. If someone elseagrées with them on one thing, he must agrée on everything; ifhe is opposed on one issue, he probably is opposed on everything. Such is not the case, and the political activist who wouldact as ii it is the case may be ineffective indeed.Vietnam and the Voting DécisionI hâve been talking thus far about the overall shape of Americanopinion on the war. Thèse opinions are crucial in relation to thecongressional élections of 1970 and perhaps the presidentialélection of 1972. But one important question must be dealt with:even if citizens are convinced the war is wrong and ought to beended, will they vote on the basis of that belief? People vote, weknow, for many reasons. Perhaps the major déterminant of howan individual votes is simply his traditional party affiliation. Anissue must be potent indeed to shake an individual from thatbasic déterminant of his vote.Some studies of the 1968 primary campaigns and the électionitself suggest that there are good potentiàlities for making thewar a major électoral issue, but the task is by no means easy.The campaign of Senator Eugène McCarthy in 1968 is instructive for what it tells us about peace candidacies in gênerai.Though McCarthy 's anti-war stand had been stressed by themédia, fifty-four per cent of a national sample in a study con-ducted shortly before the New Hampshire primary in February,1968, said they did not know his position on the war, anotherseventeen per cent identified him as a "hawk" or as supportingthe current policy, while only twenty-nine per cent identifiedhim as opposed to current policy and in favor of deescalation.In the New Hampshire primary, he won a surprisingly highforty-two per cent of the vote with the aid of student cam-paigners. This was largely interpreted as a pro-peace vote. Butthe available data suggest that this was not the case. Those whovoted for McCarthy in the New Hampshire primary were dis-satisfied with Johnson's policies on Vietnam, true, but they weredissatisfied with Johnson for not pursuing a harder Une inVietnam (by a margin of nearly three to two) rather than asof ter one. Indeed, studies hâve shown that of those who favoredMcCarthy before the Démocratie convention but who hadswitched to some other candidate by November, a pluralityswitched to Wallace.The data on McCarthy underline a point made previously—that growing dissatisfaction with the war ought not, necessarilyto be interpreted as a growth in sentiment for peace.As it turned out, Vietnam as an issue played little rôle in deciding the élection between Nixon and Humphrey. But theévidence is fairly clear that this was because voters perceivedlittle différence between the candidates, not because the issueitself was considered unimportant.In 1968 a study was done of the importance of various issuesto the voters. Vietnam was found to be the single most importantissue in the minds of voters and an issue that they said wouldhâve a major impact on their vote. But, as it turned out, theissue could hâve little impact because the voters saw little différence between the candidates. In this study, the respondentswere asked where they believed each of the possible candidates(the study was before the convention) belonged on a scale ofpolicies on Vietnam that ranged from a score of seven for thosewho would escalate the war to win by any means to a score ofone for those who would pull put immediately and uncondi-tionally. The public did not— on the average— place the candidates at the extrêmes. They did see sharp différences betweenWallace and Johnson who were seen as f avoring increases in thewar and McCarthy -who favored a decrease. But what they didnot see is a différence between Nixon and Humphrey. Thissuggests that the issue is a potentially potent one where thereis a choice, but that in 1968, little choice was seen.The analysis of the rôle of Vietnam in relation to the 1968élection, when added to what has been said about opinions ingênerai, gives us some dues about how the war as an issue af-fected the 1970 congressional élections. I pointed out earlier thatpublic opinion looks {^ackward, not forward. It usually reacts topast policies with dissatisfaction for failure and satisfaction forsuccess. It less frequently offers clear guidelines for future policy.If the war had played a rôle in the 1970 élections, it probablywould hâve been a négative rôle of the sort just suggested—voters might hâve voted for peace candidates because of gêneraidissatisfaction with problems induced by the war rather thanbecause- of a désire to further a particular carefully conceivedposition. In fact, the élection seems to illustrate another pointmade in this essay— the weakness of the war as an issue com-pared with domestic iâsues. The policy of the administrationeffectively defused the Vietnam war as an issue. As we suggested earlier, the public has always considered the war anintrusion into American life and has wished it would go away.Thus they seem willing to believe that it has "gone away" evenwhen a careful reading of the administration s withdrawal plansindicates that it has a long way to go before it is gone. In the 1970élections, the war issue seems to hâve faded to the background,leaving behind the field of forces— partisan attachménts, candidate personalities, domestic issues— that usually affect élections.!92OX<uzh- 1<ad2<psjUnOo>— IOHPfilOOh<WHOriOOnPÈJ<XOPfil0Hwf/r°f ';'v"^jK*ï-y*-T#^^35! B^*»%*aÉSjjS«Kof»1 ¦•-~ -*.--• ^BMftfl TtV* 1 ^3l^rLSI¦ ^*^Ma¦t *- - •f•T^***' rv>J— ***5r-»2*jjà i^Y£*Wicfei**T^The move began in July, 1970. Theyhad until September when the studentswould return. Two months to move twomillion books. Two million books.The monumental move was from the oldWilliam Rainey Harper Mémorial Library( and eleven smaller departmental and pro-fessional school libraries) to the newJoseph Regenstein Library.The gift of the Regensteins ($10 million,one of the largest ever made in the historyof the University ) for a new library wasfirst announced in October, 1965. At thetime of the announcement Mrs. JosephRegenstein, widow of the Chicago industrialisa said that when her family learnedof the University 's need for a new library,she remembered "my husband was alwaysinterested in research. He was responsiblefor many innovations in the paper, plastic,and petro-chemical fields....We hâve decided that the library would be a particular ly suitable mémorial to him."In September, 1967, construction on thenew building began. It had been designedby Walter Netsch of Skidmore, Owingsand Merrill for location on the site of oldStagg Field, the site of the world's firstnuclear chain reaction.For two years the construction went on.On the campus, one was only vaguely awareof it, for the giant Stagg Field was formi-dably there, shielding the activity, some-what as it had shielded the work on nuclearreaction back in 1942.In the winter of 1967-68, the HenryMoore statue entitled "Nuclear Energy" that stands in f rofit of Regenstein Librarywas unveiled. It is a massive form, frighten-ing and beautiful, that calls to mind imagesof life and death.In the winter of 1969-70, the destructionerews came in and the Stagg Field wallcame tumbling down, to reveal, full-fledgedfrom the head of Zeus, the new RegensteinLibrary.There it was. Ail of a sudden. A researchlibrary rive stories high ( two stories underground ) that expands as it rises into alooming, commanding, demanding présence.Interviewed recently, the senior architect,Walter Netsch, said that he was satisfiedwith the library, for apart from one depar-ture from the original plans— to put thelibrary within the quadrangle but it wassimply too large— there had had to be nomajor compromise from architect 's visionto finished project. "I will risk being ego-tistical," he said. "We are contemporary,but at the same time more Gothic thanmost of the other new buildings on thecampus. Eve been most pleased with theway the character of the limestone and thearticulation of the façade hâve given nicescale to a large building which could hâvebeen a great ugly box." Because the universities are coming close to building wholenew "cities," he feels that académie architecture is "a microcosm of the future."An so the move began. The stacks inHarper Library had to be closed ( thoughbooks could still be called by call slip) , andscores of students from ail over the countrywere hired to spend their summer vacationloading two million books into movingboxes, dollying them onto trucks ( assistedby at least one underage worker, scion ofthe movers, working for the love of it) ,and unloading them in the new building, afew blocks but a great struggle away.Our drawings show the move as it tookplace those warm July and August days.There are the scores of students moving in and out of Harper, and there is Regenstein,with its vistas on the Moore statue.The move was accomplished almost exactly according to plan, an incredibly com-plex logistic plan worked out over thecourse of the year enabling the library toopen on schedule in September more or lessready for business as usual.What made an orderly move possiblewere the facts of the excellent detailedplanning ( box zb goes onto shelf zb onfloor x, color coded, lef t to right, no déviation) ; an additional moving staff oftwenty to thirty people working on shelflabel ing, measuring in inches the numberof books from other library locations( eleven of them ) to be interfiled on theRegenstein shelves; the moving companythat had moved other libraries, includingthe Northwestern library, and so was notnonplussed by the monumental technical-ities involved; and finally by the librarystaff that really wanted to make the move,that really, unsèntimentally, wanted to quithot, old, crowded Harper Library.Not everyone felt exactly the same ofcourse. There were a few old timer librar-ians who had worked at Harper Libraryalmost since it opened in 19 12, who criedand lamented, remembering the care andthought that had gone into the planning ofHarper as a perf ect library, recognizing butnot acceptirig the fact that it had outlivedits usefulness.But the rest of the staff during the hot «summer of the move were ready to go, andthey fully cooperated— the departmentheads working on basic allocation plans andthe rest working rather as usual, despite thefact that the stacks were slowly, almostsecretly, disappearing out the back doors ofthe library. But wasn't the staff aff ected bythe graduai disappearance of the library into another building; didn't that tend tohait opérations, to demobilize the staff?"Oh good heavens," laughed one librarian."We could close the library for a year andalways keep busy." (A comment thatshould put the library user and his needsin perspective. )Slowly the move was completed withoutcausing undue trauma to either librariansor library users, except for one or two iso-lated incidents of high outrage on the partof some scholars distressed by the inévitabledelays in obtaining books during the move. And so, Regenstein is now in opération.A beautif ul light warmed, color warmed,expansive building ( "I feel a sensé of dation when I enter in the morning" onesmall librarian said) : first floor (thick,gold, wall-to-wall carpet) is circulation,référence, study carrels; second floor(orange), anthropology, political science,study carrels; third floor ( orange ), litera-ture, language, study carrels; fourth floor( green ) , European history, music, studycarrels; fifth floor, Arabie and Far Easternlanguages. A magnificent new library, builtto a capacity of 3Î/2 million volumes. Itseems inconceivable that it will ever bereplaced and superseded. But then, it alsoseemed inconceivable that Harper could be.unS 5 î ! « } ' '<Éatirgg>dmaniF'¦^j**" ^****7 mimmm&& "*&**&&m&m&^:r-c>'W*>~jMorris PhilipsonMOVINGWe at the Press lived for six months with the knowledge thatwe would be moving into new quarters. This knowledge hada remarkable and surprising effect on the morale of a majority,if not the totality, of the Press staff: the mère prospect of moving from quarters which had been the home of the Press forsixty-nine years, even across so small a distance as the widthof a city street, believe it or not, engendered mild psychic dis-turbances, anxieties, fears of an undetermined character. Suchanxieties, probably so basic to human psychology as to be un-avoidable in the ordinary circumstances of life, must reflectneeds in both infantile and primitive psychology which arenever fully outgrown— needs for some sensé of continuity andpréservation and safety for which no clear-cut rational meansachieve the ends of reassurance. I say ail this in retrospect, because at the time we were concerned with how the offices wouldbe laid out, who would be where, what the accommodationswould be like; we were certainly not conscious of the underlyingpsychological condition I am describing now.Our first mythic or archetypal attempt to secure such safetyand continuity was expressed in an effort that we made in discussions with people representing Physical Planning and Buildings and Grounds to take with us the wood paneling and handcarved moldings from the lobby of the original Press buildingand reerect them in the new réception area. It turned out thatto do so would hâve cost more than to replicate the originals,and since the latter was out of the question, the former wasail the more impossible. In discussing this désire subsequentlywith anthropologists and cultural historians, I hâve discoveredthat early history is replète with instances of similar behavior.People who hâve relocated themselves in a new land hâve almostalways acted out some variation on the thème: to take fromthe old home some soil to be laid on the threshold of the newhome. Such a gesture was meant both to perpetuate the fertilityof the past, and to préserve memories of the motherland. Thetwo combined were hoped to guarantee at least as much successas had been known in the original home. I think that the founderof this Press, William Rainey Harper, who was a great OldTestament scholar and a historian of ancient Greece, wouldhâve respected the désire wholeheartedly. When it becameclear to us that this ancient tradition could not be maintainedunder présent économie conditions, we groped to find some talisman that would help us to reaffirm our purposes and torededicate us to those ends.The first such talisman was the slate plaque bearing our name.It was carved by Father E. M. Catich, director of the Art Department of St. Ambrose Collège in Davenport, lowa, the world'sleading authority on Roman inscriptional or monumental letters. The inscription was eut by hand, with chisel and mallet,not by a routing machine and a master stencil, on a slate thatcame from an abandoned school house and was eut to its présentshape by hand. The incised letters are gilded with real gold leaflaid on by hand. To my mind, this symbolizes everything thata publishing house like ours stands for. It is in direct contrast towhat the gênerai appearance of our new offices might lead onemistakenly to imagine— that we hâve reached a stage wherewhat we produce is somehow "machine-tooled," programmedthrough a system of sélection and production untouched byhuman minds. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Andeverything that we can look at to remind us of the truth issalutary. There is no publication of this Press which does notbear the marks of the thoughtful évaluation of editors, of thecareful efforts at improvement by its copy editors, of the pains-taking planning of designers and production controllers. Shouldblind stamping or color foil be used on the binding? Shouldthe headband be colored or white? Should the endpapers bedesigned or plain? Every book is given the same careful individual considération. So when we hang this shingle before ouroffice, we say to the perceptive viewer: "Hère things are madeas by hand, made by the infinitely varied processes of the humanmind." It is a talisman that serves to remind us of the traditionsof our industry, which exists to make the thought of one humanbeing available to other human beings in such form as may endure as long as materially possible. This is a tradition that goesback to the origins of cuneiform and to the Rosetta stone which,incidentally, was carved in precisely the same way by somehuman hand using a chisel and mallet.The second talisman we chose was the board room wallpaperby William Morris. Our new offices are located in a distinctlymodem pièce of architecture, constructed on this campus inthe late 1940's, but the prédominant architecture of this university, conceived and partly executed at the very end of the nine-teenth century, attempts to dupiicate the Gothic style or, at least,reinterpret it in Victorian terms, and the wallpaper was designedby William Morris approximately twenty-five years before thefirst building was put up on this campus. The artful regularityof pattern combined with genuine forms of nature appeal to a32tradition appreciably older than that of the Victorians themselves. William Morris, who lived from 1834 to 1896, was theonly man in ail of the nineteenth century who concerned him-self with book publishing as a contribution to aesthetics as wellas to literature and thought. As the founder of the KelmscottPress, his concern for the graphie appearance of the page of abook, its typeface and its décoration, was ail of a pièce with hisconcern for revolutionizing the art of house décoration, furnish-ings, and architecture. He had a conception of craftsmanshipthat held that the excellence of médiéval arts came from thejoy of the free craftsman, a joy destroyed by industrializationand mass production. He was an ardent utopian socialist, andhis essential dream was that every man might live his life asmeaningfully for himself as an artist does.The fact that this wallpaper was still available today was astory in itself. Handmade from the original designs of WilliamMorris, the cylindrical rolls disappeared about 1900. They werefound in Ireland in i960 and put up for sale to the highestbidder. Sanderson and Co., the most distinguished wallpapermanufacturer in England today, bought the original rolls andmade the hand printed paper available to the public once again.Having chosen thèse two objects to help rededicate ourselvesto the purposes of the Press, I was forced to ask what the concept of talisman has meant in the course of Western civilization.I am advised by Prof essor of Philosophy and Classical LanguagesRichard^ McKeon that a talisman is a magical image, the wordcoming from the Greek telema, implying money paid, a tax ora tribute given prior to introduction into the mystery rites— ineffect, a token allowing initiation, making one worthy, throughincantation of the powers of the spirit which it addresses, of theblessings of one of the mystery gods. From the twelfth centuryon, it came to mean an obj ect inscribed with mystical signs, animage reflecting the spirit invoked. This may sound dreadfullyoccult and totally inappropriate to the rationalistic attitudewhich one should bring to such a performance as operating auniversity press, but I am not trying to justify our action— onlyto offer some explanation for the psycholôgical need whichseemed to be fuifilled by thèse gestures.What spirit did we hope to invoke? To what powers werewe paying tribute? What spirit has pervaded this eighty-year-old Press which we were somehow concerned about preserving,despite relocation? It is a spirit of dévotion to excellence whichhas invested both the journal and book sélection, editing, design,and production of the kinds of contributions to scholarship thatjustify our existence as a publishing house. Let it not be imag- ined that consciousness of such concern does not, similarly,inform the way in which the marketing department or thebusiness office operate. The high seriousness of what we publishhas an éducative effect on how we publish. Such a spirit is easilylost, being intangible, evanescent, and almost indefinable. Theinstitution of this Press may hâve a life of its own, but thatis a corporate or imaginary life, and its actual breath and puiseis possible only through the performance of the life-givingopérations by one génération of staff members after another.And each in his turn has to try to accommodate his personalpowers and potentialities to the spirit of the organization. Werewe not vigilant in the effort to préserve and improve upon thatspirit, we might lapse into actually becoming what thèse newquarters seem to be— slick, streamlined, "machine-tooled," or,as some critics hâve put ity looking like just another insurancecompany office.Ail the foregoing remarks hâve assumed that there is virtuein respecting tradition, but in a world where almost every in-herited way of doing things is challenged, what is the value ofany tradition at ail? I feel confident that the answer lies in whatis essential about human life as contrasted with the life of anyother species. What we learn from the natural sciences is thatwhile other species, subject only to the variations of mutationand sélection, live out the instinctual directives of their class,only human beings possess the virtue of sharing and learningfrom the cumulative expérience of other s. Preserving any tradition means that each génération does not hâve to start ail overagain from scratch. The publication of the written word thenis the performance whose tradition we inherit.And we inherit it in the context of a particular set of respon-sibilitiès. The staff of the Press is responsible to this facultyBoard of University Publications, to the Board of Trustées ofthe University, and to the wider world of people living andnot yet born who can benefit from the cumulative values ofthe human expérience of publishing, which does, in fact, goback through the Rosetta stone to the origins of cuneiform andwhose purpose is the préservation and sharing of learning.It is for the maintenance of that tradition and in the prospectof contributing to it that we hâve placed our talismans in ournew home to help us rededicate ourselves. If thèse are incantations, they are also pledges.The author is the Director of the University of Chicago Press,and author of Bourgeois Anonymous, Outline of a JungianEsthetic, and The Count Who Wished He Were a Peasant.33Quadrangle V^(ewsBenton Educational Research FundThe Benton Educational Research Fund hasbeen established at the University of Chicagowith a gift of stock valued at $2,067,000 byHelen Benton Boley, Charles, John and LouiseBenton, children of Senator and Mrs. WilliamBenton. Senator Benton is a life trustée of theUniversity of Chicago, and chairman of theboard of Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., andEncyclopaedia Britannica Educational Corp.The objectives of the Fund are to study theacquisition and dissémination of knowledgeand to study ways in which new techniques andmethods can be applied to the improvement ofteaching and learning, especially at the ele-mentary and secondary levels. Expendituresare to be made only for projects acceptable tothe University and determined by a committeeto be appointed.Charles Benton, président of Films, Inc., isa trustée of the University and a member of itsvisiting committee in the départment of éducation. John Benton and Louise Benton areexecutives in the Encyclopaedia BritannicaEducational Corp. Charles, John and LouiseBenton and Mrs. Helen Benton Boley ail résidein the Chicago area.William Benton served as vice-président ofthe University of Chicago from 1937 to 1945.He resigned to become assistant secretary ofstate for public affairs. He has served as theUnited States ambassador to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Or-ganization ( UNESCO ) and was a U. S. senatorfrom Connecticut from 1949 to 1953. He alsowas the first récipient, in 1968, of the Univer-sity's William Benton Medal for DistinguishedService.The gift of the Benton children is the four-teenth largest single contribution to the University.On Controlling HyalineMembrane DiseaseInjections of sex hormones for prématuré infants mày be the answer to controlling hyalinemembrane disease, according to a report in thecurrent issue of The Journal of Reproductive Medicine, published by the University of Chicago.Dr. Douglas R. Shanklin, professor of pa-thology and of obstetrics and gynecology atUCs Pritzker School of Medicine, and Dr. S. L.Wolfson, clinical associate in pediatrics at theUniversity of Florida, hâve found that moremaie infants than females died from the disease, a deadly pulmonary disorder which affectsan infant's lungs and causes asphyxiation whena protein membrane seals off the air sacs, andclaims the lives of more than 25,000 prématuréand newborn babies each year.They hâve theref ore concluded that the useof estrogens might reduce the mortality tomaie infants from hyaline membrane disease.This furthers "the importance of the originalclinical observations on the sex of the infant."Centrex InstalledAs of December 19, 1970, the Universityconverted to a CENTREX téléphone system,and the Alumni Association numbers will bethe following:Information (312) 753-2175DirectorAssistant DirectorProgram DirectorMagazineSchools CommitteeCoordinatorRecords Department 753-2176 and 2177753-2178 and 2179753-2180753-2181753-2182753-2184-5-6Time Capsule Implantedat Site of New CenterApproximately 250 guests sat under an awningat the construction site of the Cummings LifeScience Center to watch the implantation of atime capsule.The capsule, containing photographs of thebuilding-to-be, the 1969 State of the UniversityAddress by Président Levi, the University ofChicago 1969 financial report, the history of theCummings family, and copies of the speechesdelivered on the occasion, was sent down intothe earth at four o'clock in the af ternoon ofSeptember 16. Dr. Léon Jacobson, dean of the PritzkerSchool of Medicine, Edward H. Levi, présidentof the University, and Nathan Cummings, whooriginally contributed over two million dollarstoward the construction of the building, spoke.Speaking of his past, Cummings said he hadnot finished school but he had joined a grocerybusiness that had— somehowî— grown intoConsolidated Foods, and he was absorbed bythe questions as yet unanswered in the Life Sciences. "The Nobel Committee which awardeda prize for the discovery of the properties ofDDT did not foresee the biological damages thechemical would cause. The thousands of médical men who labored for years to reduce deathrates could never hâve envisioned the plagués -of overpopulation. And while our technologyhas placed a man on the moon and enabled usto watch it live on our télévision sets, we arestill haunted by the unknowns of cancer, by thedaily évidence of deformed and twisted bodies,and by the inevitability of the infirmities ofold âge."Among the many distinguished guests wereCummings' children, Ann Landers, and MariaTallchief , the great ballerina.Intramurals PopularCollège youths are probably more interested inactive sports participation today than they hâveever been before, according to Chester McGf aw,associate professor of physical éducation anddirector of the Intramural Program at the University of Chicago. "Scheduling has becomealmost a nightmare," he said.In his annual report, McGraw noted that"we had a total of 602 différent teams whichplayed twenty différent sports," and those 602teams had more than 4,000 members.League basketball attracted the most inter-est; seventy teams played in the three intramural leagues on campus. Softball and touchfootball were the next two most attractivegames; 650 persons played softball, and 648played touch football.Horse shoes, a traditionally rural sport notusually found in an urban university setting,attracted ninety-six participants.34McGraw noted another change in collègeintramural athletics in the last twenty-fiveyears. "In my early years," he said, "intra-murals were usually built around the collègefraternity system. Today the dormitories andthe graduate schools are the chief proponentsof our program."More Madison PapersThe approaching bicentennial anniversary ofthe American Révolution gives added signifi-cance to a séries of manuscripts being preparedfor publication at the University of Chicago.Volume VII of the papers of James Madison, fourth président of the United States andthe man known as the principal architect ofthe Constitution, is being prepared by an edi-.torial staff headed by William T. Hutchinson,the Preston and Sterling Morton ProfessorEmeritus of History at the University."When this project began," Hutchinsonrecalls, "we estimated that perhaps twenty-twovolumes would be sufficient to complète thejob. Now we realize how overly optimistic wewére, for a much larger number will be re-quired to reach that goal."The project was originally announced in1956, but the work of editing could not beginuntil it was reasonably certain that ail availableMadison documents were in hand, and yearshad to be devoted to scouring the country for"fugitive" documents. This search resulted indiscovering some 300 owners of Madison documents, some of whom lived in Europe.Now, for the first time, ail known availableMadison papers are finally in custody for editing and publication.Eskimo Linguistics ConférenceThe world's first international conférence onEskimo linguistics was held at the Universityof Chicago in June. The three-day conférence,made possible through a grant from the National Science Foundation, brought togetherlinguists from Europe and Canada as well asthe United States. Several linguists who arethçmselves Eskimos attended. According to chief investigator, or chair-man, of the conférence Eric P. Hamp, professorof linguistics, Eskimo linguistics in the pasthâve been in a "double or triple stepchild re-* lation." The Eskimo languagîe has been treatedas an obscure aboriginal language. But "atleast four major countries [Denmark, Canada,the U. S., the U. S. S. R.] find speakers ofEskimo within their borders "It therefore seems timely and opportune tobring together . . . major figures of Eskimolinguistic study to assess and take account ofthe présent burgeoning state of Eskimo linguistic research — "Among the topics presented were "TheGrammatical Catégories of Indefinite in theAleutian Aleut Language," "The IntermediaryApplication of Mécanographie Concordancein Eskimo Descriptive Semiotics," "A FewProblems in Yuk Phonology," "Qaillun Pici-quat Yupiit Yugtun AlengareyaureskumtaAtaucitun: How a Unified Writing SystemWill Affect the Yupiks," and "Linguistic Er-rors and the Formulation of the 'Eskimo Type'Kinship Construct."Amendment Unnecessary,Says KurlandA proposed Constitutional amendment to insure equal rights for women is unnecessary, according to Philip B. Kurland, professor of lawat the University of Chicago, testifying in September before the United States Senate Judi-ciary Committee."My bias should be made clear," he said. "Iam satisfied, though I cannot provide the Committee with documentary évidence, that womenin this country suffer from unreasoned discrimination against them in many phases oftheir lives, not least in the sphère of employ-ment. I am anxious to help diminish such un-justified discrimination. But I am not sure thatthe proposed Constitutional amendment offersa realistic means for bringing about such aresuit "Constitutional amendments may be thenecessary means f or protecting minorities fromimposition by majorities and the unenfran- chised from imposition by the enfranchised.Women, however, are neither a minority norunenfranchised. This would suggest to me thatthe most appropriate means for securing thedesired results on their behalf would be by wayof appropriate législation rather than Constitutional amendment Surely the élimination of différences between men and womencannot be obliterated by Constitutional fiât."New Portraits for CommonsPortraits of a former président of the University of Chicago and a former chairman of theUniversity' s Board of Trustées were unveiledwith pomp and circumstance and sherry inHutchinson Commons on September 21.The subjects of the portraits were Glen A.Lloyd, life trustée of the University, chairmanof the Board of Trustées from 1956 to 1963, anda partner in the Chicago law firm of Bell, Boyd,Lloyd, Haddad & Burns (portrait by PeterHurd ) , and George W. Beadle, the WilliamE. Wrather Distinguished Service Professor ofBiology, président of the University from 1961to 1968, and a Nooel Lauréate (portrait byRichard L.Seyffert).Speaking at the unveiling cérémonies wereEdward H. Levi, président of the University;Gaylord Donnelley, chairman of the Board ofTrustées; Lloyd, and Beadle. The portraitswere unveiled by Earle Ludgin, life trustée andchairman of the Trustées' Committee on Me-morials and Portraits.Guests included members of the Board ofTrustées, administrative officers, deans, andfriends of Lloyd and Beadle.Mail Order EngravingA hand painted panoramic engraving of theUniversity of Chicago campus (circa 1908) byRichard Rummell may be ordered directlyfrom Hingham Original Prints, 35 NicholsRoad, Cohasset, Massachusetts 02025. The priceis $29.00 unframed. Please allow three weeksfor delivery.35(Chicago 'Booksand zAuthorsA ProfileA Day withRobert ArdreyThere was a pride of whiskey salesmen millingaround in the Ambassador West that Octobermorning, but the author and the interviewerhad no trouble finding one another withoutaid of a single yellow tulip or big red rose,—the interviewer because she was female andknown to be such to the author. The author,on the other hand, did not ostentatiouslyresemble an author. He was neither painfullythin nor wearing glasses nor any of those otherthings associated with "bookishness." Nor didhe resemble an Atlasian man of action, onewho has spent months and years in the fieldand the veldt of Af rica, as he has. Physically hemight almost hâve been a whiskey salesman,except in the setting he looked confused andsearching. This was not his pride.The interest of Robert Ardrey's face is aninterest that rests first of ail in the quick, sharpeyes, then drops precipitously, perilously intoa mouth and jaw that are prominent and prédominant. As a speaker's face floats above themicrophone one cornes somehow to focus uponthe microphone, the mouthpiece, and so onedoes with Robert Ardrey. One studies his largemouth as he speaks. Hère is an oracle.Robert Ardrey is a playwright, screenwriter,anthropologist and ethnologist, author ofAfrican Genesis, a book which put f orth thethesis that man originated in Africa, ratherthan in Asia, of The Territorial Imperative,which argued that man's instinct to establishand défend territory has been a crucial moti-vating factor in human but not humanë his-tory, and now of Thé Social Contract ( Athe-neum Publishers, New York City ) , à bookwhich could well be the controversial book ofthe season for it says that men were notcreated equal.The Social Contract ("a personal inquiryinto the sources of order and disorder" ) isdedicated to the memory of Jean JacquesRousseau, but it probably should not hâvebeen, for Ardrey's disagreements with Rous seau are so fundamental that his use of thetitle seems an effort at a Free Ride whichArdrey, heaven not help him, does not need."The territorial imperative" passed easily andrapidly into the language; Ardrey had no needto borrow from a classic so at odds with hisown.His own classic, for that is what Ardrey'sSocial Contract ought to become, is a superbbook— exciting, amusing, well researched, pro-vocative, satisfying. Contrary to Rousseau, manis not created "good." Man is innately violent,an evolved part of his predatory past, with abasic need for aggression and violence. Andagain contrary to Rousseau, he is not createdequal. How could he possibly be when he iscreated by a random, perverse "accident of thenight"? In a test tube, perhaps, he might becreated "equal," with equal brains, proclivities,potentialities and so on. But as he is? Impossible. In every society of fish, animal, primate,there is a top and a bottom, there are alphasand there are omegas. Why do animais tend tofollow one another in a line? Isn't there aninstinctive need for hierarchy, a sensé of supe-riority and inferiority? Men are not "equal."Man is a combination of good and evil, ofequal and unequal. Man is "a union of theVisible and Invisible There is the visiblebeing, the man who sits down before you inneed of a haircut, suffering at the momentperhaps from too many drinks last night, bril-liant, ambitious . . . unsure that his ambitionswill corne to anything, yet determined thatthey will . . . it is a brief portrait of a man."And precisely, in exact détail, such was theportrait of the man sitting at breakfast at theAmbassador. A union of the Visible and theInvisible. A man of somewhat sullied flesh anda man of genius.Robert Ardrey was born on the south sideof Chicago in 1908. The son of a poor familyand fatherless at ten, Ardrey attended the public schools and entered the University of Chicago in the late 1920's. There in the predawn ofthe Hutchins era he studied writing with"Teddy" Linn and Dean of Women Flint ("thetoughest thing you ever saw" ) who forced herstudents to turn out 5^000 wordsevery week, and with Thornton Wilder. He graduated inEnglish with honors, phi beta kappa, in 1930.Unlike other authors he did not ship out ofChicago immediately after graduation, butstayed around, communing with ThorntonWilder and writing plays. He liked Chicago,the vitality of it, the nonconformity of it. In1933 and 1934, augurs of things to corne, hegot a job lecturing in anthropology at theWorld's Fair, held in Chicago.He liked Chicago, but "let's face it, it's notthat easy to like," and in the middle thirties netook off for New York where his plays wereproduced. In fact, at one point he had twoplays running simultaneously on Broadway(Casey Jones and How To Get Tough aboutIt), something that has not happened often inthe history of the Great White Way.After a stint with the Office of War Information during the war, Ardrey went to Hollywood in 1945, and stayed there eleven years.He wrote films (good ones: They Knew WhatThey Wanted, The Green Years, The ThreeMusketeers, Madame Bovary, Khartoum ) andled a good life— quite literally for the money,but it was a life that left a great deal to bedesired. Talent had a way of coming to Hollywood, but it also had a habit of going. By 1956Ardrey too was ready to go. Given the oppor-tunity to go to Africa, Ardrey went, and hasnever really returned.The Visible man had finished with breakfastand the Invisible one had an appointment at anFM recording studio to be interviewed by itsrésident intellectual, Studs Terkel. And so,down Michigan Avenue to the studio. StudsTerkel is a man of unquenchable ebullienceand libéral enthusiasms, particularly in theface of someone like Ardrey, whom he verymuch admires, but whom he was determinedto provoke. As the light switched on and thetape started to roll, Terkel rasped into the microphone an introduction of this man Ardreywho had brought us such superb plays asThunder Rock and such blood pressure-raisingbooks as The Territorial Imperative and TheSocial Contract, and immediately lit out for biggame. But Mr. Ardrey, Terkel protested, youcannot mean what you seem to be saying when36you say "men are not created equal." Are youreally subscribing to the genetic inferiority ofthe Negro, to the absolute superiority of oneculture over another? No, said Ardrey, I do notsubscribe to either. I say only that Americanblacks are innately superior to whites on theplaying field ( we hâve much évidence of superiority of anatomical development and neu-rological coordination ) and inf erior in theclassroom. Why? Because first of ail, the questions in the classroom are "culture-tied" ( not"culture-free" ) , and thereforé those most athome in the culture are going to fare betterthan those less so. Thèse innate tendenciescould obviously change, given the évolutionarynature of man, and probably will in say 1,000years "if there is still a world for man to evolvein," but for the moment, Ardrey says, this isthe truth. What has to be recognized are theinherited biological patterns, the biologicalbases of learning. And why is this récognitionnecessary? Because "if we see clearly and withconviction that every human baby born bearsthe potentlal resources of the arsonist, thevandal, the murderer, then we shall raise ourchildren differently. If our educational phi-losophy accepts individual responsibility, notsocial guilt, as the final déterminant of conduct,then we shall see some remarkable changes inthe curriculum presented to our students. If wesocial members as a whole agrée that no longershall we applaud the violent, no longer shallwe extend our charity to the violator while weignore the violated, then a quite simple eventmay take place. Violence, whatever its tempta-tions, could go oui of fashion."Robert Ardrey is a most disconcerting con-versationalist: he is like as not to throw intoany context "well, as the ten-spined sticklebackfish, with its homosexual practices etc.," or "asthe behavioral aberrations of the overcrowdedrat show," or "as the lions of the Gorongosagame reserve prove," and one can defy thecoolest intellect to corne back in a rationalfashion. But the point is that there is hardly asingle idea important and urgent today thatArdrey's théories do not touch upon. There isthe revolt of the young, against materialismj and property; there is the seeming décline of the family as a significant social group; thereis the war in Vietnam. Ail thèse questions areembraçed by his évolutionary, revolutionarytheory. If he does not always qualify his state-ments into non-being, in concert with thestandards of the professionals, who hâve oftenregarded Ardrey as a "territorial marauder," itis because he is a "revolutionary and a militant," and refuses to qualify.The light switched off and there was theVisible man again, at the end of the interview*Studs Terkel was volubly elated with the interview and only reluctantly let him go on to hisnext one.The next interview, as it happened, was onthe Chicago Sun-Times' Irv Kupcinet's "Kup'sShow," a Saturday night présentation of celeb-rities and thinkers, combined in an oftenunpalatable mix. Ardrey began ail right, set-tling the future of mankind with a slight assistfrom Douglas Cater, political analyst and former assistant to Président Johnson, and Barbara Walters of the "Today" show, but wassoon drowned out in a wave of bubbleheadsfrom the lower show-biz world. The Visibleman sank lower and lower into his plush TVset couch, becoming visibly invisible. EarlierBarbara Walters had accused Ardrey of beinga "cop out" for quitting this country and takingup résidence in Rome, but watching the Invisible man sink in that môrass of conversationaltrivia one had to sympathize. America, with itsinordinate passion for equality, was silencinga man she will ignore at her peril.-G.A. The Collected Worksof buck rogersin the 25TH Centuryedited byRobert C. Dille, AB'44For those of us who served our literate, pre-adolescence before the great electronic déluge,there were certain phrases such as "skate key"and "water pistol" and "code badge" whichrecall the golden days of discovery. For thejaded tots who fiave easy access to télévisionwonderland, the arrivai of the Sunday morningpaper does not bring the same sensé of height-ened joy and expectation. Their fantasy lifehas no hidden corners of joy which equal inwarmth the off-register color rotogravuresection that was the beautiful magie of theSunday comics.In a quarto collection of Buck Rogers stripsrétrospective to their first appearance in 1929,Robert C. Dille, AB'44 offers fans of this American culture hero a chance to be hurled backinto the past. It was editor Dille's father, JohnDille, PhB'09, (who roamed the Quadranglewhen the great Nobelist Albert Michelson wasmeasuring the velocity of light ) who launchedBuck Rogers into the public eye, basing thestrip on Phil Nolan's futuristic taies, "Arma-geddon 2419 A.D." and "The Airlords of Han,"originally published in Amazing Stories magazine.The study of pop culture has become arespectable, scholarly, yea Relevant, pursuit, soif you are a collecter of kitsch and camp, or aresimply nostalgie to see "The Monkeymen ofPlanet X: continued next week" again, rushout and buy this volume; you can alwaysrationalize the purchase as amateur sociology.The Collected Works of Buck Rogers in the2$th Century is prime source material.A.R.N.PeopleX ALBERT V. CREWE, designer of a scanningélectron microscope that made atoms and theirarrangement in molécules visible for the firsttime, has been named Man of the Year in Research by Industrial Research Inc.The microscope is expected to hâve greatimpact in many fields, including medicine, bio-chemistry, and genetics; the technique will beespecially valuable in analyzing chromosomesand cancer cells.Crewe was the featured speaker at a formaibanquet, held in the Muséum of Science andIndustry in September.The English-born scientist has been associ-ated with the University of Chicago since 1955For some years the director of Argonne National Laboratory, which is operated by theUniversity under a contract among the UnitedStates Atomic Energy Commission, the Argonne Universities Association, and the University of Chicago, Crewe resigned to dévotemore time to research. "Research is a full-timeactivity, one not fully compatible with theduties of a laboratory director."So today we hâve a microscope that can en-able us to see the atom and Crewe is Man of theYear in Research.X A graduate student in physics swam theEnglish Channel in September "just for thehell of it."MIKE PAESLER, of Elgin, Illinois, set goodtime by crossing the channel in eleven hoursand forty-five minutes, the sixth fastest inchannel-swimming history.It took Paesler two tries to make the crossing; his first attempt was foiled by twenty-fivemile per hour winds.Arriving safely back on the UC campus, thetall bearded student seemed something lessthan elated. "It was fun while it lasted," he said,"but I wouldn't do it again."X FAHIR IZ, an authority on Turkish litera-ture, has been appointed professor of NearEastern languages and civilizations at the University of Chicago.Iz is the author, co-author, or editor of nu-merous publications and articles. He is cur- rently preparing A History of Turkish Litera-ture.A native of Istanbul, Turkey, Iz graduatedfrom the Galatasaray Lycée and later studied atthe Universities of Istanbul and Berlin. He ob-tained his License es Lettres ( BA degree ) inTurkology m 1938 from the University ofIstanbul.Iz has been a lecturer in Turkish languageand literature at Oxford University and theUniversity of London, and has held the chair ofclassical Turkish literature at the University ofIstanbul.He has also served as chairman of the National Commission on Education in Turkey.X GARY s. BECKER, Ford Foundation visitingresearch professor of économies at the University of Chicago for 1969-70, has been appointeduniversity professor of économies at theUniversity.Becker cornes to the University of Chicagofrom Columbia University where he has beenthe Arthur Lehman Professor of Economies. In1967 he received the John Bâtes Clark Medalfrom the American Economie Association, andin 1968 a Professional Achievement Awardfrom the Alumni Association of the Universityof Chicago. Graduating summa cum laudefrom Princeton University in 195 1, he receivedhis AM and PhD degrees from the University ofChicago.He is the author of Human Capital, TheEconomies of Discrimination, and HumanCapital and the Personal Distribution of In-come.X Name Prof essorships : EDGAR G. EPPS, associate director of the Carver Foundation inthe Division of Behavioral Sciences of Tuske-gee Institute, Alabama, has been appointed theMarshall Field IV Professor of Urban Education at the University of Chicago. The profes-sorship honors the late président of Field Enterprises, publisher of the Chicago Sun-Timesand the Chicago Daily News and a Universitytrustée.Mr. Epps is a distinguished sociologist andsocial psychologist, who has done extensive investigations into the effects of school intégration, the achievement orientation, motivation, and aspirations of Negro students.Among his récent publications hâve been"Parent Social Status and Personality Characteristics of Negro High School Students" inthe Journal of Social and Behavioral Sciences;"Socio-economic Status, Race, Level of Aspiration and Juvénile Delinquency : A LimitedEmpirical Test of Merton's Conception of Déviation" in Phylon; and "Some Characteristicsof Students from Poverty Backgrounds Attend -ing Negro Collèges in the Deep South" inSocial Forces.An endowed professorship has been estab-lished in honor of BRUNO BETTELHEIM, theStella M. Rowley Distinguished Service Professor of Education, director of the SoniaShankman Orthogenic School, and professorof psychiatry and psychology at the Universityof Chicago.The professorship was made possible by apledge of $500,000 from the Foundation forEmotionally Disturbed Children.Bettelheim, who has been a member of theUniversity's faculty and director of the Orthogenic School twenty-five years, is one of theworld's leading authorities on the treatment ofemotionally disturbed children.Among his numerous writings he is perhapsmost famed for Love Is Not Enough ( 1950) ,and most recently his Children of the Dream( 1969 ) , a description of kibbutz life in Israël.X The University High School of the Laboratory Schools at the University of Chicago hasas its new principal a charming, spirked anderudite alumna MARGARET CHAVE FALLERS.Graduated from University High School in1939, after receiving a BA degree from OberlinCollège she took an AM degree in anthropologyfrom the University of Chicago in 1948 andhas been on the staff of the high school sincei960.She and her husband, LLOYD A. FALLERS,professor of anthropology at the University,hâve done much field work together in Africaand Turkey.38An advertisement for Chicagochairs, with some little-known factson the birch tree, from theRoman Empire to the University. . .In the athletic contests of ancientRome, trophiés of birch branches wereawarded to the victors, a practice whichlater spread fo récognition of achievement in other areas. In time, the "f asces"—a bundle of birch rods, sometimeswith a protruding axe — became a symbol of authority, carried through thestreets on civic occasions by lictors,the sheriffs of their day.I n the New World, the birch had beenused extensively by Indians, notablyfor wigwam pôles and the bark canoë.But the earliest settlers largely ignoredthe tree in favor of softer woods whichlent themselves more easily to construction in primitive circumstances.Woodsmen often were discouraged bythe labor needed to hew down a birch,espeeially when they felled a treewhose toughness had kept it uprightlong past its useful âge for lumber.Most observèrs, deceived by thebirch's graceful appearance, were unaware of its great strength. JamesRussell Loweîl called it "the most shyand ladylike of trees."The sap and leaves of the birch yieldan oil similar in fragrance to winter-green, and one of the tree's early useswas in the flavoring of a soft drinkknown as birch béer. As the characterof its wood became apparent, the birchbegan to be used in the manufacture ofproducts where durability was important: tool handles, wagon -wheel hubs, ox yokes, barrel hoops, wooden-ware. Challenging oak and hickory forstrength, and excelling them in beauty,birch soon came to be favored by themakers of sleighs and carriages. And,finally, cabinetmakers adopted thewood for the finest furniture.Some of the first railroad tracks werespiked to birch crossties. In the earlydays of the automobile, birch was usedby some coach makers for the mainframe and other structural members.During the métal shortages of WorldWar II therBritish used the wood in themanufacture of airplanes —espeeiallyin the well-known mosquito bomber,constructed almost entirely of birchplywood. Tennis rackets and skis arestill made of birch.Some years ago, the Alumni Association found a century-old New Englandfurniture manufacturer who continuesto employ hand craftsmanship in theproduction of early American birchchairs. The firm, S. Bent & Brothers ofGardner, Mass., is still operated bythird and fourth génération descendentsof its founders. Hundreds of their piècesare now in the homes and offices ofalumni and —espeeially the sturdy armchairs— are found everywhere on campus, from the President's office to theQuadrangle Club.At least one United States Président,while in the White House, owned aBent & Brothers armehair, identical incolor, design, and construct on to the model available through the AlumniAssociation.The designs for the Chicago chairsoriginated in colonial times and reachedtheir présent form in the period from1820 to 1850. The selected yellowbirch lumber cornes from New Brunswick, Canada, and from Vermont andNew Hampshire. Except for modern-day improvements in the adhesives andthe satin black finish, the chairs arefaithfully traditional.Identification with the University isachieved by a silk-screened goldChicago coat of arms on the backrest,complementing the antique gold détail stripings on the turnings. The arirnchair is available either with black ornatural cherry arms. Ail chairs areproduced on spécial order, requiring aminimum of four weeks for delivery,and are shipped express collect fromthe factory in Massachusetts.[ ' • " — "HI The University of Chicago Ij Alumni Association iI 5733 University Avenuej Chicago, Illinois 60637 Ij Enclosed is my check for $ , payable to ii The University of Chicago Alumni Associ- j! ation, for the following Chicago chair(s): Ij Armchairs (cherry arms) at $44 each jI Armchairs (black arms) at $42 each j| Boston rockers at $35 each 'j . Side chairs at $26 each iName (please print)Address i.alumni ÏNgwsClub EventsATLANTA: Benjamin E. Mays (AM'25,PhD'35 ) , président of the Atlanta Board ofEducation and président emeritus of More-house Collège, shared some of his thoughts onéducation with Atlanta alumni on November4. High school principals and counselors wereinvited to join the group for the occasion. JaneAndrews ( MBA'49 ) , J. Lester Fraser ( PhB'31 ) ,Clarence Sills ( AB'40 ) , and William Rotters-man (MD'37) served as the committee for theevent which was held at the Marriott MotorHôtel. A réception followed the formaiprogram.BOSTON : On November 9, Roy P. Mackal( SB'49, PhD'53 ) , associate professor of bio-chemistry, showed slides and film to illustratehis talk on "The Mystery of Loch Ness." Professor Mackal is head of the scientific portionof the research team investigating the unex-plained phenomena in Loch Ness. The program was held at the Sheraton Plaza and waspreceded by a cocktail hour. William H. Fred-rickson, Jr. (MBA'58) is président of theBoston club.CHICAGO : Alumni in metropolitan Chicagowere invited to a spécial performance of DylanThomas' Under Milkwood at the CourtTheater on August 5, 1970. A réceptionfollowed.DALLAS: On October 26, Helen Harris Perl-man, the Samuel Deutsch Professor at theSchool of Social Service Administration, spokeat the University of Texas at a program spon-sored by the SSA alumni in Dallas. Ail alumniin the Dallas and Fort Worth area were invitedto attend. A réception followed the program.KANSAS CITY: Edward W. Rosenheim, Jr.( AB'39, AM'46, PhD'53) spoke on the topic "IsLiteracy a Lost Cause?" during a coffee held atEpperson House on November 15. Helen Huus( AM'41, PhD'44) , Joséphine Ardrey McKinney( PhB'21 ) , and Philip Metzger ( AB'38, AM'39 )served as the committee.LOS ANGELES: Hans J. Morgenthau, the Albert A. Michelson Distinguished Service Professorof Political Science ahd History, spoke to LosAngeles alumni on October 20 on the topic"The United States and the Soviet Union:Conflict or Coopération?" The program whichwas held at the Wilshire Hyatt House wasfollowed by a réception. Alexander Pope( AB'48, JD'52 ) is président of the Los Angelesclub.NEW YORK: On October 28, alumni heard T.Swift Lockhard, advertising sales director forNew York magazine, and Clay Felker, editor,discussed "The View from New York." Theprogram was held at the Lambs Club and wasarranged by the Graduate School of Business 'Alumni Club. Richard A. Lipsey ( MBA'62 )is the GSB club président.PORTLAND: Julian H. Levi, professor of urbanstudies, spoke on the topic "Urban America—1970" at a program held on November 16 at theCongress Hôtel. A réception followed. EdgarWaehrer (AB'55) served as chairman.PROVIDENCE: On November 10, Roy P.Mackal ( SB'49, PhD'53 ) , associate professor ofbiochemistry, showed slides and film to illustrate his talk on "The Mystery of Loch Ness."Professor Mackal is head of the scientific portion of the research team investigating theunexplained phenomena in Loch Ness. Professor Mackal spoke at a dinner held at theDolphin Inn. Mercedes Hutchison Quevedo( AB'57 ) is président of the Rhode Island club.SAN FRANCISCO: On October 21, Hans J.Morgenthau, the Albert A. Michelson Distinguished Service Professor of Political Science and History, spoke on the topic "TheUnited States and the Soviet Union: Conflictor Coopération?" The program which was heldat the Sheraton-Palace Hôtel was followed bya réception. Alan Maremont ( JD'54) is président of the San Francisco club.SEATTLE: On November 18, Julian H. Levi,professor of urban studies, spoke on the topic"Urban America— 1970" at a program held at the Washington Plaza Hôtel. A réceptionfollowed. Richard C. Reed ( AB'43, JD'48)served as chairman for the meeting.TULSA: John G. Cawelti, professor of Englishand Collège humanities, used film to illustratehis lecture entitled "Where the Old WestNever Dies" on October 21. A dinner foralumni preceded the program and WilliamHankla of the Office of Development gave abrief présentation on campus life. The Friendsof the Tulsa Public Library were invited tojoin alumni after dinner to hear ProfessorCawelti. Ray ( JD'45 ) and Nancy Goodman( AB'44, JD '46 ) Feldman served as co-chairmenfor the program.WASHINGTON, D. C. : On July 26, James W.Vice ( AM'54) , dean of freshmen and assistantdean of students, met with alumni and studentsto discuss campus life. The program was heldin the Fédéral City Club and was arranged byAlan Bloom ( AB'68 ) , member of the board ofdirectors of the Washington club.The latest developments in research onhuman genetics, inoculations, psychiatry, andleukemia were discussed by a distinguishedpanel of doctors during the symposium entitled"What's Up Doc?" held at the National Insti-tutes of Health on October 22. Howard P.Jenerick (PhB'46, SB'48, PhD'51 ) served asmoderator and panel members were Dr. Kenneth S. Brown of the National Institute ofDental Research, Dr. Robert M. Chanock( SB'45, MD47 ) of the National Institute ofAllergy and Infectious Diseases, Dr. Robert A.Cohen ( SB'30, PhD'35, MD'35 ) of the NationalInstitute of Mental Health, and Dr. John B.Maloney of the National Cancer Institute.Charles Ephraim (PhB'48, JD'51 ) is présidentof the Washington, D. C. club.40Class NotesT 1-1 LLOYD E. BLAUCH, AM'17, PhD'23, has/ written up the findings of a three-yearproject in podiatry éducation he directed in a381 -page report, The Podiatry Curriculum, justpublished by the American Association ofCollèges of Podiatric Medicine. Dr. Blauch hasdirected previous curriculum studies in den-tistry and pharmaceutics.IN MEMORIAM: D. Francis Bustin, LLB'17;William Camfield Emerson, SB' 17; Allan BruceKing, SB' 17, MD'19; Lucile Hassewer Lloyd,PhB'17.0 O J°SEPH THOMAS, PhB'20, has receivedhis master's degree in political sciencefrom Arizona State University. Retired in 1956after thirty-four years in the furniture mariu-f acturing industry during which time he in-vented the Pullman Sleeper Sofa, Mr. Thomaswrpte his thesis on the war powers of theprésident.IN MEMORIAM: Joséphine Wells Graves,PhB'20; Miriam Russel, PhB'20.r% s-S HARRIET GEORGE BARCLAY, PhD'28,3 professor of botany at the University ofTulsa, presented an illustrated talk on birds ofthe Galapagos Islands at the annual fall banquet of the Arkansas Audubon Society.IN MEMORIAM: Rufus B. Robins, SM'23,MD'25; B. Fain Tucker, JD'23.r\ £ WALTER O. WALKER, SM'25, PhD'31,3 professor emeritus of chemistry anddean emeritus of the division of research andindustry, University of Miami, Coral Gables,Fia., has donated over $3,000 in residual fundsto the UM chemistry department to assistyoung scientists on the threshold of theircareers. Dr. Walker retired as an active UMfaculty member in 196 1 althoùgh he continuedas director of the réfrigération laboratory thereuntil 1969.O r\ GIRARD T. BRYANT, PhB'26, visitingprofessor of history at Florida A & MUniversity, Tallahassee, during the past year,has returned to Kansas City to assume thepresidency ôf Penn Valley Community Col lège. Teacher and administrator in Kansas Cityéducation for forty years, Dr. Bryant is the firstblack to be appointed head of a Kansas CityMetropolitan Junior Collège.M. LUCILLE HARRISON, PhB'26, AM'33,professor emeritus of elementary éducation atthe University of Northern Colorado, washonored recently at a meeting of thé International Reading Association for her part inauthoring the new "Reading for Meaning" and"English for Meaning" séries of elementarytexts to be distributed in 197 1 by HoughtonMifflin.A fifth édition, completely revised, of LivingIssues in Philosophy , an introductory textbookby HAROLD H. TITUS, PhD'26, professor emeritus of philosophy at Denison University inGranville, Ohio, has been released by the VanNostrand Co., New York City. Dr. Titus'original version of the work came out in 1946.r\ I-] WALTER E. MARKS, PhB'27, dean of the/ School of Health, Physiçal Educationand Récréation at Indiana State University,Terre Haute, and football coach there from1927 to 1948, sets his retirement for next yearbut, incredibly, still runs a mile a day to stayin shape.Y. P. MEI, PhD'27, retired chairman of thedepartment of Chinese and Oriental studies atthe University of Iowa, has been chosen président of New Asia Collège, Chinese Universityof Hong Kong. Launched by two refugeeChinese prof essors about twenty years ago,the collège began opération in three rentedclassrooms and currently has an enrollment ofabout a thousand students.IN MEMORIAM: J. Frederick Burgh, PhB27;Chris D. Gregory, PhB'27, JD'29; Bernai Rob-inson Weimer, PhD'27.r\ W ELMER GERTZ, PhB'28, JD'30, haspointed out to us that our récent itemon him, in which he is ref erred to as a criminallawyer, is not entirely accurate. "While I hâvehandled a number of criminal cases that hâveachieved a certain amount of notoriety," hewrites, "ninety-nine per cent of my time isdevoted to civil cases." JOHN CHAMBERS KENNAN, PhB'28, hasretired as président of the Society for VisualEducation, Inc. ( SVE ) , but will continue as aconsultant. SVE, producer of audiovisual learning materials for schools, was founded in 1919by a group of UC faculty members.IN MEMORIAM: George William Fairbanks,PhB'28.1 O NORMAN MUSHARI, X'39, retired cor-J poration counsel, has moved with hiswife to Pisquontuit, R. L, where he plans tojoin the volunteer fire department.IN MEMORIAM: Eva Ruth Balken, PhD'30;Cary J. Boyd, x'30; Paul E. Burkholder, AM'30;Joseph Hasterlik, LLB'30; Harold Fletcher Lee,AM'30; Frederick W. Turner, Jr., PhB'30.^% s*\ ALBERT BLUMENTHAL, PhD'33, retired3 J professor of sociology at WisconsinState University in Eau Claire, has beengranted emeritus status by the WisconsinBoard of Régents. Author of Small Town Stuff,published by the University of Chicago Press,Dr. Blumenthal recently moved to LagunaHills, Calif.WATSON M. DAVIS, PhD'33, was conferredprofessor emeritus during spring commencement exercises at Cornell Collège, MountVernon, Iowa, A member of the mathematicsand engineering faculty at Cornell since 1942,Dr. Davis is former chairman of the Iowa section of the Mathematics Association of America and has served on the Mount Vernon CityCouncil.IN MEMORIAM: Margaret Brown Clausen,X'33; Hugh Dalziel Duncan, AM'33; PhD'48.^ A MARY ELLISON CLIVER, PhB' 34, teacherJ T* of American literature at Bloom HighSchool in Chicago, has developed a télévisionprogram, "Book Talk with Mary Cliver," whichis now being aired in seven states. She and herhusband, PAUL M., JR., SB'34, are active in theecumenical organization FISH.IN MEMORIAM: Hobart Gunning, PhB' 34,JD'36; Edith Augusta McDougle, x'34; GérardA. Serritella, PhB'34, JD'37; Herbert S. Zucker-man, SM'34.41"2 P* CHARLES A. BANE, AB'35, ChicagoJ <3 attorney, has been elected to the newlycreated position of chairman of the board ofeditors of the American Bar Association Journal, officiai publication of the ABA.JAMES A. HARRISON, PhD'35, is retiring atthe end of this semester after a thirty-five yearassociation with Temple University, Philadel-phia, Pa. Dr. Harrison, professor of biology inthe Collège of Libéral Arts, will stay on atTemple after retirement doing private research.IN MEMORIAM: Paul T. Lambertus, MD'35;Pei-hsiu Wei, PhD'35.1 1\ WILLIAM R- KEAST, AB'36, PhD'47, re-J portedly sufïering from "presidentialfatigue," has announced his résignation asprésident of Wayne State University in Détroitas of June 30, 197 1, the date which will markcompletion of his sixth year in the office. Alsoa professor of English, Dr. Keast plans to takea year's sabbatical to complète a book onSamuel Johnson.s> Q LEILA ANDERSON, AM'38, DB'40, is^j revising her book, The Pilgrim CircuitRider, published in i960, to include her récentexpériences in the Philippines as a Christianéducation field worker under the UnitedChurch Board for World Ministries of theUnited Church of Christ. Rev. Anderson madeher way around that country in an espeeiallyequipped truck and in the sidecar of a motor-cycle.LEONA FLORENCE BECKER, AM'38, retiredsupervisor of collections for the New JerseyDepartment of Labor and Industry, Wage andHours Bureau, married John C Summers,retired Passaic County (N. J. ) register ofdeeds, on September 19 in Paterson, N. J.EARL E. KLEIN, PhB'38, recently retired asprofessor and dean of the School of SocialWelfare at Louisiana State University, hasbeen honored with the establishment of ascholarship fund in récognition of his twenty-eight years of service with the institution.PAUL P. PICKERING, SB'38, SM'39, MD41,associate clinical professor of surgery, University of California, San Diego, and président of the American Society of Plastic and Recon-structive Surgeons, Inc., will be the Americandelegate to the International Congress ofPlastic and Reconstructive Surgery which willmeet in Melbourne, Australia, in February,1971.HAROLD H. WEBBER, AB'38, has retired fromhis duties as administrative vice président anda director of Lever Brothers Company, NewYork City, but will continue to serve the firmas a consultant. Mr. Webber is also a directorof Glamorene Products Corp., the MilbrookCorp., and Ashley-Butler, Inc.^ Ç\ LAURA C. GOTHBERG, AM'39, seniorJ y clinical psychologist at the Mansfield( Conn. ) Training School, has retired aftertwenty-five years of state service.CHEVES WALLING, PhD'39, professor ofchemistry at the University of Utah, has beennamed 1971 winner of the American ChemicalSociety's $2,000 James Flack Norris Award inPhysical Organic Chemistry for his work withf ree radical processes.IN MEMORIAM: Paul G. Luckhardt, SB' 39,SM'40.4 T MINNA KOROL GUNTHER, SB'41, SM44,vocational counselor and psychologist,and président of the Wilmette ( 111. ) LibraryBoard, has been re-elected secretary of theboard of directors, North Suburban LibrarySystem.The paintings of LA VANCHA MARSHALLSTALMOK, AB'41, AM'42, were on spécial ex-hibit during September in the Leavenworth( Kansas ) National Bank and Trust Company.Mrs. Stalmok, a retired teacher, has alsoworked in ceramics, copper enameling andblock painting, and published a number ofpoems under the pseudonym of Kazia Kelley.a n> ROSE ELLA KING, AM'43, a home econo-i\3 mist and former dean of girls at Short-ridge High School in Indianapolis, was married during August to John Youie Woodrufï,former Olympic 800-meter track champion.RAYMOND C. WANTA, SB'43, of Bedford,Mass., a consulting meteorologist, has been appointed officiai représentative of the American Industrial Hygiène Association to the AirPollution Control Association.A A ARTHUR J. BRODBECK, AB'44, profes-T'T" sor, Yale University Law School, iseditor of and contributor to Value Sharing: aCreative Strate gy for American Education. Thebook is a condensed statement of a large-scaleresearch project in the Chicago public schoolsto introduce value thinking into elementaryéducation.IN MEMORIAM: Reginald V. Hobbah,PhD'44; Vane M. Hoge, MBA' 44.a f\ DAVID M. BRYAN, DB46, minister of ther First Christian Church of Topeka,Kansas, received an honorary doctor of divinitydegree from Phillips University, Enid, Okla.,this past summer.GEORGE GREGG, SB'46, new head meteorologist at the Sunport Weather Bureau in Albu-querque, though he crédits weather satellitesfor increased accuracy in weather prédictions,still has a spécial fondness for the balloons firstused in the thirties as an aide in weatheranalysis.VIRGINIA M. OHLSON, SB'46, AM'55, PnD'69,professor of public health at the University ofIllinois' Collège of Medicine, Chicago campus,has been appointed head of the department ofpublic health nursing in the Collège ofNursing.IN MEMORIAM: Gladys Kammerer, PhD'46.A 1-1 ERNEST V. CLEMENTS, AM'47, was in-l / augurated président of Wright Collège,one of the City Collèges of Chicago, duringcommencement cérémonies this June. Mr.Cléments helped establish and later coordi-nated the handicapped and spécial student( prison ) program for TV Collège.R. ELBERTON SMITH, AM47, PhD'49, involved in Department of State overseas progràms in Turkey, Japan, and Cambodia for thepast ten years, has accepted an appointment tothe économies faculty of the School of Businessand Social Sciences, California State Poly-technic Collège, San Luis Obispo.42a Ç\ HAROLD MELVIN AGNEW, SM'49,Hr y PhD'49, has been named director of theLos Alamos (N. M.) Scientific Laboratory. Dr.Agnew worked at UC during the early fortiesunder Enrico Fermi on the création of man's 4first controlled nuclear reaction.TILMAN C. COTHRAN, PhD'49, has takenover as vice président of académie afïairs atGovernors State University, Park Forest South,111. A sociologist, Dr. Cothran spent some timein Africa several years ago as group leader forsixteen American students under the auspicesof Opération Cross-Roads Africa.MAX J. PUTZEL, AB'49, AM'52, PhD'65,chairman of the German department and director of the honors program at Indiana University Northwest, has been promoted to associate professor of Germanie languages there.JOHN M. WALTERSDORF, MBA49, présidentof Tristate Electrical Supply Company, Inc.,Hagerstown, Md., is president-elect of theNational Association of Electrical Distributors.G? O JAMES L D01' ^5°, PhD'52, new direc-3 tor of the Center for the Study ofHigher Education at the University of Mich-igan, Anîi Arbor, predicts a broadening in theage-range of graduate students over the nexttwenty years, due to an increasing graduateenrollment of people making the transition tosecond careers. As a resuit of this, in his opinion, "we can look for less youth orientation."THOMAS H. GERARD, MBA'50, has béenelected président of Thermal Industries ofFlorida, Inc., an electronic manufacturer. Mr.Gérard, who recently stepped down from thepresidency of the Air Gonditioning, Piping,Heating, Réfrigération Contractors Association of Florida, is a trustée of the Air Condi-tioning, Piping Industry Advancement Fund»TERENCE O'DONNELL, PflB'50, is author ofan article, "The Miraculous U-Shaped Table,"in the October issue of Reader' s Digest.r T L. L. FARKAS, AM'51, chief of the tech-<J nical training and certification unit,Vandenberg Opérations, California, MartinMarietta Corp., is author of Management ofTechnical Field Opérations, published in July by McGraw-Hill. The work is the first to dealwith technical field opérations as a separatearea of management.£ r% PATSY HERGET LATSHAW, AM'52, has3 been appointed director of collège relations and publications at Ursuline Collège,Cleveland, Ohio. Until her oldest child reachedkindergarten âge, Mrs. Latshaw and her babies,like modem gypsies, lived out of a trunk, ac-companying Mr. Latshaw, an internationallyknown puppeteer, on the puppet show circuit. ^Now Mr. Latshaw must travel alone. But healways tries out his new shows on his familybefore leaving.£ A ROBERT BLOCH, AB'54, AB'55, AM'62, a .^ Y faculty member at Cornell University,gave a violin récital at the University of California at Davis in June. Mr. Bloch, who spenttwo seasons with the San Francisco Symphony,studied with Arthur Grumiaux in Brussels ona scholarship.WILLIS E. ELLIOTT, PhD' 54, dean of laytheological éducation at New York TheologicalSeminary, initiated a new course at the sem-inary this September entitled "Second CareerTheological Education." Novel enough to gaincoverage in a récent Time magazine, the courseis designed for people "who would like tocommit themselves to serious exploration ofthe possibility of career change into clergyvocations, espeeially those who wish to aim atordination at the point of retirement fromtheir secular employment."IN MEMORIAM : Edwin N. Whiteway, AB'54.£ £ RICHARD E. FARSON, PhD'55, dean ofO O the new School of Design of the California Institute of the Arts, will be programchairman for the 1971 International DesignConférence to be held in Aspen, Colo., in June.Dr. Farson pioneered the use of encountergroups for mass média with the télévisionséries "Human Encounter" and a film Journeyinto Self, which received an Academy Awardas the best feature documentary of 1968.PAUL S. HOLBO, AM'55, PhD'61, recentlynamed dean of libéral arts at the University of Oregon, Eugène, was an unsuçcessful Republi-can candidate for the state senate last spring,polling about forty per cent of the vote, comingin second in a three- way race. In 1969 Dr.Holbo received an award from the Organiza-tion of American Historians for an outstandingarticle in the Journal of American History.THEODORE M. NORTON, AM'55, PhD'6o,professor of political science at San José( Calif . ) State Collège, was acting chairman ofthe department of political science during1969-70 and has been elected chairman of theacadémie council for the current year.JANE w. STEDMAN, PhD'55, has beenawarded a f ellowship by the American Councilof Learned Societies to complète research fora biography of Gilbert, of Gilbert and Sullivan.£ A\ THOMAS L. harris, AM'56, vice pres-,3 ident and public relations director forNeedham, Harper and Steers advertisingagency, has been elected to the board of direc-tors of the Chicago chapter of the Public Relations Society of America.£ Q MICHAEL ZIBRIN, JR., AB'58, MBA'59,,3 has been named to the newly createdposition of dean of académie afïairs at Kings-borough Community Collège, Brooklyn, N. Y.Professor Zibrin, who intends to expand thecurriculum beyond traditional limits, says"there's no reason why a survey course inmusic, fox example, can't extend into jazz andother contemporary musical forms."h\ ç% DAVID S. BIGELOW, MBA'6o, has beenappointed director of manufacturingand projects management for the farnxmachin-ery group of Massey-Ferguson Limited,Toronto.NANCY PLATTNER BROWN, AB'6o, mathematics instructor at Stevens Point ( Wisc. )State University, is the unopposed candidatefor the Republican nomination for the officeof Portage County ( Wisc. ) Assembly représentative.C. J. GAUTHIER, MBA'6o, président of Northern Illinois Gas Company, Aurora, 111., hasbeen named chairman of the utilization com-43mittee of the twenty-five country InternationalGas Union. Mr. Gauthier is currently chairmanof the research review committee, AmericanGas Association.REUVEN GOLD, AB'6o, AM'66, after workingfor a number of years as a Cook County publicaid caseworker and as a research associate withthe Institute of Juvénile Research, has turnedto a new kind of social work: storytelling.Now working in a Skokie coffee house as aprofessional storyteiler, he says "a good storydoesn't transmit information or give pat answers. It stimulâtes a new awareness and encourages people to become explorers anddiscoverers."HOSEA MARTIN, AB'6o, according to theAmsterdam News ( New York ) , is the newcoordinator of sports activities for Coca-Cola.f\ J WAVERLY B. CL ANTON, JD'6l, Chicagoattorney, has been appointed by Illinoisgovernor Ogilvie as deputy director of thegovernor's Office of Human Relations.R. CLAYTON RICH, AB'6i, has been appointed assistant professor of English at theUniversity of New Mexico, Albuquerque. Aspecialist in autobiography, Mr. Rich has beena Danforth tutor in humanities at UC whileworking toward his doctorate and is a formerWoodrow Wilson f ellow and Danforth fellow.r\ ^ ROBERT DESHMAN, AB'63, has receivedJ a doctorate in art and archaeology fromPrinceton University.DANNY LYON, AB'63, photo journalist andGuggenheim award winner, is in Bernalillo,New Mexico, with his new wife, working on adocumentary film The Children of Coronado.Mr. Lyon's latest book Conversation with theDead is slated for publication this fall. Amongthe most notable of his already published booksare Destruction of Lower Manhattan and TheBikeriders ( MacMillan and Co. )f\ A ROLLAND K. HAUSER, SM'64, PhD'67,1" assistant professor of physical science atChico ( Calif . ) State Collège, has been appointed to a three-year term as head of theirgeological and physical sciences department. 65 AMANITA BUNTLINE, X'65, has sold asong "Two-Toned Tickled-Pink Tan-trum" to Metaphysical Melocraft, Inc., the Los'Angeles underground music publishing house.HORACE M. NEWCOMB, AM'65, PhD'69, hasjoined the faculty of Saginaw Valley Collège,Saginaw, Mich., as an assistant professor ofEnglish.IN MEMORIAM: Newton R. Calhoun,PhD'65.A f-j Z. ANTHONY KRUSZEWSKI, PhD'67, has/ been promoted to associate professor ofpolitical science at the University of Texas atEl Paso.RUTH A. MOSER, AM'67, bas been promotedto assistant professor of social science atOliver-Harvey Collège, one of Chicago's CityCollèges.EILEEN WATZULIK, AB'67, bas joined Reserve Insurance Company, Chicago, as assistantto the advertising manager. A member of theMusic Théâtre of Hyde Park, Miss Watzulikplayed the heroine in their récent productionof How To Succeed in Business without ReallyTrying.f\ V RICHARD BUETOW, MBA'68, has beennamed opérations manager for signal -ing products and international portable prod-ucts, Motorola Communications Division. Arésident of Mount Prospect, 111., Mr. Buetowhad been manager for "Handie-Talkie" products.LOEL CALLAHAN, MTh'68, DMn'70, has beenappointed youth coordinator for the BlueGargoyle, the popular cofïeehouse and studentcenter operated by the University Church of' Christ, 57th and University, and which he wasinstrumental in founding.JOHN ENTWHISTLF, x'68, has resignedfrom the staff of Tommie's Holiday Camp onthe Isle of Wight, where he was senior coun-selor of visual arts and acoustics, in order todévote himself full-time to being a Méditations initiator. After an intensive two-weekretraining period, Mr. Entwhistle will be oncall in Leeds.SANDIE LANGSDORF, AB'68, married in August to F. Wells Shoemaker, Jr., a médicalstudent at Stanford University, has a brownbelt in karaté.ROBERTA SHAPIRO SAPERSTEIN, AB'69,married in June to Marc Saperstein, is workingon her doctorate in Middle Eastern studies atHebrew University in Jérusalem while herhusband is preparing for the Ref orm rabbinate.f\ ç\ STEVE BLANK, MBA' 69, has developed/ a computerized merchandising and concession program for Central States ThéâtresCorp., Kansas City, Mo., which is expected tosave each drive-in movie manager an estimatedfour hours per week and indoor théâtre managers somewhat less time.THOMAS L. WOODS, AM'69, administrativestaff coordinator and psychiatrie social workerin the department of child psychiatry, University of Chicago Hospitals, has been electedchairman of the Mental Health Council of theChicago area chapter, National Association ofSocial Workers.**ir\ ANNE LOUISE FREEDMAN, AB'70, finds/ herself in Cambridge, Mass., where itis "green and pretty, and people smile" butwhere the business world disregards her académie achievements and asks her if she cantype ( which she cannot ) .Picture CréditsFranklin McMahon: cover, 20-31David Windsor: 11Dan Morrill : 45Lynn Martin: art direction and designAt right: The rtC" Bench, across from CobbHall, that used by under stood tradition tobe only for athlètes and their girl friends. Now,any one can sit there, even professors.44.¦"***.ViPfcii^wwgste-4 • ¦¦ /HEt!c:OOtuOOQN^i-^»UjC!tql»-HIsaOteQOOOs-4