Mediocre teachers, scheming students
U. W. Daily, 1/29/92
Editor:
Michael Moore’s column (Seattle Times, January 17) purports to be an explanation of why college students cheat. They cheat, he argues, “in classes they are forced to take…in classes that are boring…[taught by]…unmotivated…uninspiring professors[s].” It is professors, he claims, that “are the primary reason that cheating is allowed to grow.”
First, let us be clear. Moore is charitable when he accuses professors of not being “interesting” or “stimulating.” I once attended a faculty meeting at which the main item of discussion, though significantly not on the formal agenda, was the reduction of the teaching load. There were three proposals: (1) reduce the number of meetings per class; (2) reduce the number of courses taught per year; (3) reduce the number of meeting s AND THEN reduce the number of courses.
In the course of the discussion, teaching was referred to as “a burden”, and concern for teaching was characterized as “scholarly suicide.” This contempt for students, particularly undergraduates, is not universal, but it is not atypical either. People who have such disregard for students should probably not be teachers, just as there should not be doctors who find certain sicknesses repugnant, nor lawyers who are disgusted by people in certain kinds of trouble. In short, the indifference to teaching of most university faculty is much greater than even Moore suspects.
But what does this have to do with cheating? The answer is that it has virtually nothing at all to do with cheating. Moore would have us believe that cheating is some kind of bold protest against the faculty’s insensitivity and lack of commitment, but it is little more than the petty, self-serving opportunism of students who have somehow been persuaded that their transcript is more significant than their education, that the record is more important than the reality it is supposed to record.
Cheating hardly constitutes a moral dilemma. There are anecdotes of medical students cheating to raise their grades from 95% to 97%. This has nothing to do with boring requirements, but is a consequence of the emphasis on certification as the primary function of our universities, where education long ago was viewed as a means, not an end.
I once tried to encourage students in my classes to work jointly to co-author their required papers. The idea was not very successful. The concept of genuine cooperation for the mutual advantage of students is alien to most undergraduates. In contrast, the frequent advice that professors give to those they consider “promising students” about some activity “looking good on their resume” without wincing is probably as revealing about the demise of higher education as all the sophisticated analysis by so-called “experts.” A prestigious “diploma mill” must also provide its clientele with an impressive transcript.
One might wonder why students are so acquiescent in the face of such widespread lack of concern and indifference to teaching. The answer, I would maintain, is that contrary to what Moore implies, students are not victims, but co-conspirators. For a large number of students, on any given day, the best possible news is that classes have been cancelled. Try to imagine a comparable profession or business where consumers willingly pay to be told that they may go home. Would anyone pay a doctor’s bill after being told the doctor is not in? But at the university there are no rain-checks, no refunds, rarely even an apology. But where students are merely buying credits, it hardly matters whether education takes place at all.
Students are less interested in what goes on in the classroom than they are in what goes on their transcript. They are parties to the tacit agreement between faculty and students: the former agrees to certify virtually all students, whether they cheat or not, and in return, the latter agree not to blow the whistle on their teachers, no matter how mediocre they are.
The Best Predictor of Student Evaluations
Unpublished, Undated
Editor:
Colman McCarthy’s column (September 29) about college grades is largely a self-serving exercise juxtaposing ‘students who are careerists’ against ‘a few progressive schools’ who are prepared to acknowledge that the ‘mania for rating people…is really kind of sick.’
Nowhere does McCarthy suggest why such a system thrives, nor who its beneficiaries are. Contrary to the prevailing rhetoric, the primary function of our universities is not education, but certification, with both students and faculty conspiring to serve the interests of business and government.
It is surely true, as pointed out in the study that McCarthy cites, that ‘when college students have conversations about their professors, the main sharing of information is how they grade.’ McCarthy should have cited a related study that concluded that the best predictor of student evaluations of teachers’ performance was their expected grade. The surprise, therefore, is not that 43 percent of the undergraduates at Harvard received A or A-, but that the percentage is not higher.
The Business of Selling Prestigious Transcripts
Unpublished, Undated
Editor:
That a New York Times editorial (June 5) should characterize a debate about the grading system at Stanford University as ‘an event of seismic proportions in the world of education’ is perhaps the most telling indictment of the skewed perceptions of academics, and the press, towards what is routinely referred to as the ‘crisis in higher education.’
One is reminded of the joke about the doctors, who, confronted with a very sick patient, decided to ‘touch up the X-rays.’ The quality of instruction was presumably unaffected by the 'promiscuous grading system' of the past decade, and one can predict with virtual certainty that the quality of instruction will not improve at Stanford, or anywhere else, as a result of this ‘sensible move.’
What goes on in the classroom is what has to change. But in a system where certification is confused with education, it is much easier to tinker with the transcript.
The Times hailed ‘Stanford’s decision to stop pandering to its consumers.’ Quite the reverse is the case. Stanford is in the business of selling prestigious looking transcripts, and ‘the notion that excellence deserves recognition’ is vacuous rhetoric, of the kind that is produced on demand by Madison Avenue advertising agencies.
Faculty practice cannibalism
The Seattle Times, 2/8/95
Editor:
Recent articles reporting on the faculty and student response to the recently announced decisions regarding the elimination of some academic programs at the University of Washington do not, in my view, reflect very admirably on any of the parties concerned.
First, perhaps from now on, we can all be spared repetition of that old thigh-slapper about the University being a community of scholars. When 2 percent of the faculty are terminated so that the other 98 percent can get minimal salary increases, that’s not “community;” that’s cannibalism. As far as I can tell, the typical faculty response to the cuts was “it could have been worse; it could have been us.” The fact is that the typical academic is petty, self-serving and largely preoccupied with his or her personal comfort and privilege. The loss of someone else’s department is largely a matter of indifference.
Second, the cry that the process by which programs were chosen for elimination was largely capricious and arbitrary is probably accurate, but hollow, nevertheless. Decisions to expand and add programs during periods of affluence were equally arbitrary and capricious, but the faculty never challenged the process, as long as they saw themselves as the beneficiaries. Now those who are the victims express outrage and indignation.
The University has always been guided by expediency over principle. In good times and in bad, visibility has been a surrogate for worth, and any talk about a “vision” for the University and “the educational needs of the citizens of the state” has been largely vacuous rhetoric devoid of any real substance.
We live in the age of Orwell; a world in which the word excellence is routinely invoked to refer to “mediocrity” and commitment is used to mean “indifference.”
It’s very unlikely that the current crisis will result in administrators being held to some higher degree of accountability. The faculty and student response is just too little, too late.
Bodes Ill for the Hens
Unpublished, Undated
Editor:
The Times editorial; of March 29 (‘Keeping pressure on education reform’) should be required reading for anyone genuinely interested in understanding the betrayal of our education system, and the media’s collaboration in that enterprise.
The editorial proudly proclaims that ‘the local business community has taken on the…task of assuring that education reform progresses…’ We are presumably to be grateful to Boeing Chairman Frank Shrontz and others in the ‘business-backed group’ who are ‘devoting time…trying to boost awareness of education reform.’
A generation ago, a corporate manager was quite appropriately ridiculed and criticized for asserting that ‘what’s good for General Motors is good for the country,’ declaring, in effect, that the corporate interest and the public interest are synonymous. But now, no one challenges the assumption that the primary function of our schools is to meet the needs of business, thereby substituting certification for education.
Entrusting educational reform to the business community is hiring the fox as architect for the new henhouse. The results are predictable, and bode ill for the hens.
Lazy Teachers
Seattle Weekly, 5/10/95
Editor:
Fred Moody offers an elaborate defense of the University of Washington, “an academic jewel” unappreciated by taxpayers and legislators (“Funk U.,” 4/26). - in particular, faculty members in the liberal arts. One of the “fascinating agglomeration of marvels” on campus, they are the newest class of victims, “estranged” because of the prestige of science and engineering, and torn by their competing dedication to teaching and to doing scholarly research.
Ring Lardner once wrote of a mediocre baseball player, “He can’t hit; but, on the other hand he can’t field, either.”
Something quite comparable would be an appropriate assessment of the average university faculty member in the humanities: “they can’t teach; but, on the other hand, they don’t do very meaningful scholarship, either.”
I once attended a faculty meeting at which the main item of discussion, though not on the formal agenda, was (1) reduce the number of meetings per class, (2) reduce the number of courses taught per year, and (3) reduce the number of meetings and then reduce the number of courses. In the course of the discussion, teaching was referred to as “a burden” and concern for teaching was characterized as “scholarly suicide.” This is the age of Orwell, and such contempt for students, particularly undergraduates, is routinely referred to as “concern” and “dedication” by what Moody calls the university’s “distinguished humanities faculty.”
Moody is right: The humanities may indeed be in trouble. If they are, however, it’s not because of a lack of appreciation among their adversaries; it’s because of the lack of principle and integrity among their advocates. The humanities will thrive when they are no longer in the custody of educational mandarins, but are restored to teachers with some degree of intellectual, aesthetic and ethical values.
Underpaid and Overworked?
Unpublished, Undated
Editor:
Six University presidents produce the latest in the series of the now predictable cries of alarm regarding the funding of higher education in the state (Seattle Times, May 15). The self-serving rhetoric is a little more exaggerated than usual: “Higher education is still the American dream.” The faculty are presumably underpaid and overworked, (a view which is actually taken seriously in Marsh King’s article, “Should professor’s pay be tied to productivity?, Seattle times, May 16); “it is time for the Legislature to…pass a budget that reflects the importance of higher education to the citizens of the state.”
The fact is that the tenured faculty at a large university are among the most privileged sectors of our society, with virtually ideal working conditions, and a degree of autonomy and independence which is absolutely unique.
But more significant is the narrow rationale provided by these administrators for their position. The great achievement of higher education is not that it contributes to a more equitable and just society, but that “college graduates are more highly employed and earn better wages.” The enemies are not ignorance and bigotry; the enemies are our competitors in Palo Alto and Cambridge. Education is like big-time athletics: the measure of success is national rankings; visibility is a surrogate for worth.
A generation ago, there was a justifiable outcry when a corporate manager proclaimed that “ what’s good for General Motors is good for the country.” But now, even our most influential educators (I use the word loosely) have internalized the ideology by which the corporate interest and the public interest are synonymous. By catering to the needs of business, today’s universities have blurred the distinction between education and certification.
The presidents may well be right: higher education may very well be facing a crisis. But the issues are philosophical, not economic. Our universities will thrive when they are removed from the custody of this generation’s educational mandarins, and entrusted to persons with some minimum degree of moral integrity. The trouble with higher education is not the insensitivity and callousness of our adversaries, but the hypocrisy and lack of principle of our advocates.
Blurring the Distinction between Education and Certification
Unpublished, Undated
Editor:
Richard McCormick’s column on higher education (Seattle Times, February 11) should be required reading for those genuinely interested in understanding what is routinely referred to as the ‘crisis’ in higher education.
The President of the state’s largest university, with his focus on the ‘college degree...[as]…essential for…success and prosperity’ has virtually given the game away, by blurring the distinction between education and certification. Graduation rates measure primarily the extent to which the university serves corporate needs and priorities. Why is a student with 179 credits a college drop-out, while a similar student with 180 credits is a candidate for success and prosperity?
A generation ago there was a justifiable outcry when a corporate manager proclaimed that ‘what’s good for General Motors is good for the country.’ Now, we have educators joining corporate executives and politicians in assuming that the corporate interest and the national interest are synonymous.
It is precisely because McCormick has internalized this view of our learning institutions, that he can sanguinely repeat the demeaning cliché according to which ‘students who enter college…without basic prerequisites…waste precious time and space.’ That’s like saying that hospitals should ignore the needs of sick people who need their services, and instead should attend primarily to people who are well, who don’t waste time and space.
One of the earliest ‘good news/bad news’ jokes was about an airline pilot who got on the speaker and announced that he was sorry to inform the passengers that most of his instruments were no longer functioning, and that as a result he had no idea where they were, that in fact, they were completely lost. “But the good news,” he said, “is that we’re making wonderful time.”
Colleges and universities will begin to address the real issues when they change their perspective from one of speed to one of direction.
UW faculty rationalizes failures
U.W. Daily, 6/3/77
Editor:
This academic year has witnessed more than the usual number of administrative changes, - replacements, resignations, and threatened resignations. This turnover at the higher levels is merely one symptom of 'the new mediocracy.' Big-time education has adopted one of the tactics of big-time athletics: If you can't change the team at least change the manager. But this obscures the fact that administrators are, typically, interchangeable parts; the issues facing the University are as much institutional as they are individual.
The political activism of the sixties has seen a gradual revision of academic priorities, and as harmony has increasingly become a virtue in its own right, so, too, has there been an increased tolerance for mediocrity.
Consider the following: there is a corridor in the University that graduate students used to refer to as Disneyland, presumably because of the Mickey Mouse quality of the work carried on there. Now, it is conceivable that the students are mistaken and that the work is significant, but assume for the moment that they are correct. Either the person that chairs the department and the appropriate Dean are unaware of the trivial nature of the activity, in which case they haven't done their homework; or they are aware and choose to ignore it. It is hard to know which is more reprehensible.
University faculty have always had the standard rationalizations for failure: the pressure to publish prevents adequate preparation for courses; teaching responsibilities interfere with writing and research; and committee work takes the time needed for both teaching and publication. In addition, one increasingly hears two new cop-outs: students are 'unprepared,' even 'unteachable,' which usually means that they do not speak the high-prestige dialect of English; and academic deterioration is due to the lack of financial support from an 'uninformed' and 'anti-intellectual' legislature and public. The fact is that what are lacking are the wisdom, integrity and judgment without which professionals are nothing more than mercenaries.
It is inevitable that as the financial resources become more limited, tenured as well as non-tenured positions will be eliminated. Ironically, the erosion of tenure, proposed in the sixties by a segment of the New Left is being implemented in the seventies by a segment of the Old Right.
In such an atmosphere there is a modification in the role and function of the administrators and departmental chairs. It used to be thought - rightly or wrongly - that the most important quality of the persons chairing academic departments was their scholarly reputation, since their primary responsibilities presumably were the recruitment and retention of faculty and students, and the development of programs and curricula. In a mediocracy, however, it is more important ’to get along with people.’ Administrators have become buffers between their faculties and their superiors, pacifying the former and ingratiating themselves with the latter.
The above provides a context for evaluating the University’s efforts in the recruitment and retention of women and minority faculty. Just as expediency should not be confused with principle, so fear of litigation should not be confused with affirmative action. The University’s policy - as ineffective as it is hypocritical - is primarily a result of the former. Recent estimates indicate that white males still constitute close to 85 per cent of the tenured faculty, and that this figure was reduced by about one-half of one per cent over a five-year period. At that rate equality would be reached in about 400 years. Given the magnitude of the problem, the University’s faculty affirmative action program is a sham. The only affirmative action is that taken by women and minorities in more vigorously pursuing their legal options. The bankruptcy of the University’s policy is demonstrated every time a mediocre white male is hired or promoted or granted tenure. The burden is currently - as always - on women and minorities to prove that they have been discriminated against. A significant change will take place the first time a white male has to demonstrate that he has not been given preferential treatment. It must be particularly painful to early workers in the movement to observe the few indirect beneficiaries of activist groups subsequently disassociate themselves from efforts on their behalf. Women and Ethnic Studies programs are academic ghettos, with virtually no autonomy, and dependent on a larger university community which is completely hostile and which supports it enough to survive, but not enough to thrive.
The difficulties affecting the University are pervasive and deep. They will not be remedied by ’relevance,’ which takes the form of abandoning the old curricula for courses in Creative Smoking; nor will they be remedied by ’discipline’ in the form of superficial reforms such as the recent revision of the grading system. It is a sad hoax, when a patient is very sick, to take such pride in a new thermometer. But hoaxes are the rule when the rhetoric of excellence is used to cover up the politics of mediocrity. .
The Scandal of Humanistic Education
U.W.Daily, 5/12/78
Editor:
Most people seem to agree that the Humanities are going through hard times. The word 'crisis' does not seem to be quite appropriate to describe the current deterioration, because 'crisis' seems to imply an imminent resolution, one way or another. Perhaps the current state is better described as a 'wasteland.'
There is disagreement, however, as to the exact nature of this decay in humanistic education, with most observers mistakenly equating the symptoms of low enrollments and declining job opportunities with the disease itself. The fact is that the University generally has adopted a 'market-place mentality' and most humanities departments have capitulated, in the name of economic realism. (I concur with the recent characterization in the Daily (1/17/78) by Professor Petersdorf of the University as an 'educational-industrial complex.' However, whereas he seems rather sanguine about this development, and apparently even welcomes it, I consider it the most damning indictment possible.) Thus, one observes 'new programs' in the Humanities which are largely exercises in cutting and pasting. Three credit courses are increased to five, so as to generate more student credit hours, but faculty are immediately informed that under the new arrangement they are only expected to meet classes four times a week instead of five, which, elsewhere in our society, would constitute fraud. Two hundred level courses are renumbered to the three hundred level, and on and on to improve departmental statistics. If they ever pass a Truth-in -Packaging law for universities, we'll all have to go to jail.
But there is little discussion of the purpose and principle of Humanistic education, and whether they have been clearly articulated for application in the present society. Professors of literature have traditionally taken what one might call a fundamentalist view of their discipline: "If one reads and leads a good life, it's because one has read. If one reads and fails to lead a good life, it's because one is a sinner/boor and the only possible salvation is to increase one's reading." Of course, the beauty of this position is that there is no possible counter-example. Surely, one of the lessons of the '60s, conveniently ignored in the '70s, was that some of the most criminal acts in our history were engineered and committed by products of this form of education.
But one doesn't have to look further than the departments themselves to see evidence of the betrayal of their humanistic values. As merely one symptom, consider that the tenured faculty of these departments continue to be predominantly white male buddy systems.
Furthermore there are substantive issues which reveal the poverty of intellect of our colleagues. One myth that humanists continue to endorse is that they are the last defenders of sensitivity and morality. Scientists according to their view, are tempted, like Dr. Faustus, to sell their soul to the devil because of their insatiable search for the truth. Surely what one must conclude from the lives of people like Albert Einstein and Bertrand Russell is that the great scientists are also the great humanists.
On a more pragmatic level, consider what has happened to the elementary language component of most Modern Language Departments. It used to be that traditional language instruction was uninspired and uninspiring, but with its focus on grammar and translation, it at least acknowledged that understanding the structure and organization of language constituted a legitimate intellectual activity, which at its best had its place in illuminating philosophical issues of knowledge and mind. But this view has now been replaced with a utilitarian view, resulting in equally uninspired and uninspiring instruction with no pretense at providing insight into language as a uniquely human phenomenon. So the market-place values have resulted in our throwing out the baby and keeping the bath water. Modern Language Departments become increasingly similar to Berlitz Schools.
The University is immersed in the endless struggle of 'upward mobility.' If we are in the top 20, we must aspire to be in the top 10; if we're in the top 10, we must aspire to be No. 1. But it is not obvious that visibility equals quality. The first step in revitalizing the Humanities is to remove them from the custody of the hucksters.
Rationalizing the University's mediocrity
U .W. Daily, 1/9/79
Editor:
The University reportedly is receiving complaints by one or more students who claim that they have not received the education they think they are entitled to. Specifically, classes listed in the time schedule to meet five hours a week typically meet four, and the students are asking "How come?"
The official response has apparently been one of indifference, bringing to mind the principle "Never believe anything until it's officially denied." It is interesting to compare the current lack of concern to the heated discussion in the Faculty Senate in 1970, where the prevailing position was that missing a class for a dentist's appointment was legitimate, but merely postponing a class in protest of our invasion of Cambodia was not. The University's position in the present case seems to be that the time schedule is not a legal contract, and unfortunately, it is on such legal niceties that the debate is likely to be carried out. This will obscure the fundamental issue, which is nothing less than the whole system of faculty responsibility and the virtually complete lack of accountability.
I have heard faculty members argue that credits should not equal class hours, that faculty can do a better job of preparation if they do not have to meet classes every day, etc., arguments all of which fall from their own weight since they are patently irrelevant. On the one hand, the college curricular committee would undoubtedly be reluctant to approve five-credit courses in the humanities and social sciences if they were explicitly intended to meet only four times a week. On the other hand, the practice is so open and widespread that one is surely justified in concluding that administrators at every level are aware of it. What we have, then, is a flagrant example of educational malpractice.
But then a second issue is raised. If the practice has been going on for years, and it has, why has it taken students so long to object? How long would it take consumers to protest if General Motors decided to deliver cars with four tires instead of five? After all the fifth is only a spare. Or, imagine any other job where workers determined that a five-day week could be interpreted to mean Monday through Thursday. Why have students been party to this conspiracy?
The answer, I think, is related to the fundamental nature of schools and universities in our society. When institutions become more interested in certification than education, it follows that students will be perfectly willing to sacrifice the latter in order not to jeopardize the former. Hence, for many students in many courses, the best class is no class. Students probably demand too much when it comes to certification, but they certainly demand too little when it comes to education. University faculty are a highly privileged class in our society, but, paradoxically, they are only moderately higher than university students.
These students attack the cavalier attitude the University takes toward meeting its educational obligations. People will insist that these obligations cannot be defined in narrow, quantitative terms. And they are right. But by then it will have occurred to someone to sue the University for failure to meet its responsibilities, measured in genuine, qualitative terms. It will be interesting, then to see how we go about rationalizing our mediocrity.
UW community: Pathetic reaction to budget cuts
U. W. Daily 3/3/82
Editor:
The recurring discussions in the state Legislature about budget cuts provide an opportunity for faculty and students to examine the University's traditional posture vis-à-vis these discussions and the reaction during autumn quarter of this year in particular.
For the last several years, each time the Legislature has met, the University has engaged in the old game of yelling "wolf." The recent version was a little more elaborate with the governor and the Legislature as participants. The latter tipped its hand, when, on a Saturday in November it determined that the state's economic problems were not quite as important as the Washington-Washington State football game. Ironically, the University undoubtedly is the beneficiary of the fact that a hard core of the legislators are jock-sniffers.
The reaction of the University "community" was pathetic. People in arts and sciences thought education should be cut. People in education thought pharmacy should be cut, and all three agreed that Washington State University should be cut. Students were virtually silent on all issues except tuition increases. In short, there was no "community" at all, but rather, a mammoth, largely ineffectual attempt to "save your own ass."
The official actions of faculty representatives were not much better. The Faculty Emergency Committee acquiesced to the precipitous declaration of financial emergency presumably at the urging of the administration. When they objected to the procedures for terminating tenured faculty, they were ignored, except for some minor, token changes. So much for democracy at the University of Washington. Instead, we were encouraged to engage in the most shameless lobbying, which resulted in a 22 percent increase in a regressive sales tax. The Faculty Senate, which has traditionally denounced civil rights and anti-war actions as "politicization" of the University, elevated actions in the narrowest self-interest to something noble and admirable.
A significant moment occurred at an early Senate meeting, when someone asked an innocuous question about how long the emergency might last. Instead of giving an innocuous answer, President Gerberding went to some pains to point out that the emergency would not be used to reorganize the University. Click! Never believe anything until it's officially denied. It is clear that reorganization is a top priority of the administration.
Reorganization is a euphemism for the reduction and termination of programs. Now, it is obvious that there is inefficiency and mediocrity in many places throughout the University - not excluding deans and administrators. The dilemma is that those people closest to and hence most aware of the mediocrity have the greatest investment in maintaining the status quo. On the other hand, the view from above tends to confuse visibility with quality, thus encouraging a form of academic hucksterism.
One often hears how the budget cuts will change the character of the University, with the danger that it will become Montlake Community College. Besides being a gratuitous insult to colleagues and students at community colleges, the charge is misguided and wrong-headed. The real threat is that the University will accelerate the process by which it becomes Boeing U., that is, an institution that substitutes the needs of industry and government for people's genuine educational aspirations.
The need for cuts brings into focus two conflicting principles. First, all employees of the University - faculty, secretaries and gardeners - are equally entitled to some job security. But, given the function of an educational institution, faculty and students are central; staff - including administrators -are marginal. Decisions regarding termination require the delicate juxtaposition of these two positions, and there is no reason to believe that a small number of the highest-salaried employees of the institution have some special wisdom in this regard.
The "mission" of the University will be addressed when faculty and students stop bickering over larger slices of a shrinking pie and start taking a hand in making the pie.
Open meetings
U. W. Daily, undated
Editor
At two recent meetings of the Department of Romance Languages, I moved that all such meetings should be open. The first time, the motion died for lack of a second. The second time, the motion was ruled out of order. Catch 22: The desirability of open discussion is not open to discussion.
University practice interprets the Open Meetings Act so that it does not apply to matters involving personnel. If, in fact the law does authorize secret decision-making, that should not change our views of the practice, but it might tell us something about the law.
But the critical issue is academic, not legal. If there is one principle that presumably governs intellectual inquiry, it is that decisions are made on the basis of relevant evidence, regardless of the source. If the expression 'intellectual community' means anything at all, it must mean that. How then can we justify a stratified university in which non-tenured faculty are second-class citizens, and students and staff are not citizens at all?
It is worth pointing out that the motion I made is in fact innocuous. It does not address the question of enfranchisement. In case of merit, why do associate professors evaluate assistant professors, but not vice-versa? Obviously, nothing in the motion precludes individuals from excusing themselves under certain conditions. To suppress debate on such a mild proposal is a classic case of bureaucratic over-kill, designed primarily to maintain undeserved privilege.
Non-tenured faculty are constantly offended by being told that there are important issues where their opinions are superfluous. Clearly, it is difficult for them to confront their tenured colleagues directly, and, indeed, some have even learned to accept their humiliation as natural and inevitable. Willing victims are always the best kind.
(PS. Two days after the second meeting, the chairman recommended to the appropriate Dean that my affiliation with the department be changed from voting to non-voting.)
The scandal of higher education
U. W. Daily, 11/20/85
Editor:
Discussions regarding salary increases invariably bring out the worst in university faculty members. Put a few bucks on the table and scholars become scavengers. We become petty, self-serving, even greedy. Robert Hutchins, when he was president at the U. of Chicago, said that the reason university politics are so dirty is that the stakes are so low. None of us is immune. There are no good losers: only good actors.
This year the level of self-righteous indignation has been raised a notch, presumably because of the mandate that increases be determined on the basis of 'marketability.' Much of this outrage seems to be hollow, if not downright hypocritical. It is and always has been common knowledge that the surest, most direct way to obtain a substantial raise in salary is to get a competitive offer (what in the National Basketball Association is called an offer sheet).
That is not new: what is different this year is the explicitness of the legislative language, and more interestingly, the express complicity of our university administrators and faculty representatives, not particularly surprising in an institution that has a tradition of governance by administrative fiat, tolerated by an acquiescent faculty.
This policy may sometimes have resulted in rewarding the deserving: it always served to encourage the opportunistic, the unscrupulous and the huckster. But most of us were pretty sanguine about this 'fact of life' as long as it looked like we might be the beneficiaries, or at least would not obviously be the victims. So this year's outcry is little more than the usual self-interest, now disguised as the defense of educational principles.
When someone insists it's not the money but the principle, we can be pretty sure that it's the money; or worse, it's the ego, vanity and false pride for which money is the barometer. This is particularly unpalatable when one considers that the tenured faculty at a large university have virtually ideal working conditions. We have maximum autonomy and mobility with minimum accountability and supervision; in short, we are an extremely privileged segment of this society, the prevailing myth to the contrary notwithstanding. Underpaid? Compared to what?
We have still to confront the fact that educational and marketplace values are not always complementary; they are in significant ways contradictory. Imagine Lee Iococca telling a meeting of stockholders that there would be no dividend this year because of the company's commitment to aesthetic and ethical principles.
And, yet, something quite analogous is what President William Gerberding has told the faculty. What has been happening to higher education is not, as he would have us believe, an innocuous compromise made on the basis of political expediency. His capitulation is a basic betrayal of the most fundamental principles, what in a less civil sub-culture would be called a sell-out. For example, anyone who has ever watched a TV commercial knows that the "market-place" tends to confuse visibility with worth, and even thrives on our inability to always make the distinction.
There's a commercial which claims that "The Wall Street Journal has no business section; it's all business." We now have confirmation that what some of us have claimed is indeed the case: Boeing U, -oops! - I mean, the University of Washington has no business school; it's all business.
Higher education may indeed be in trouble. If it is, it's not because of the lack of understanding and appreciation of our adversaries; it's because of the lack of principle and integrity of our advocates.
Of course, there are those who maintain that these lofty principles have never been more than vacuous rhetoric, to be displayed when convenient, and to be ignored otherwise. So, there is a benefit to this year's developments. Surely we can now be spared sanctimonious pronouncements by the president, provost and dean of the college about collegiality, and the community of scholars, and particularly the old thigh-slapper about the critical importance of a liberal education in a free society.
Departmental Chairs
Unpublished, 12/3/85
Editor:
The recent article in University Week about departmental chairs was of interest, but more because of what was omitted than of what was said. In particular, all persons quoted tacitly accepted an assumption about university governance that deserves to be debated, and, I think, refuted, namely, that the appointment of administrative officers, in this case departmental chairs is properly the function solely of their superiors, i.e., deans, rather than the people they presumably represent.
It is an axiom of any system of governance with any democratic pretensions at all, that any body selects its own representatives in dealings with others, the reasonable assumption being that people tend to be responsive to the legitimate needs and wishes of those to whom they are also responsible. In some academic institutions, unfortunately including the U. of Washington, departmental chairs are in the incongruous position of being responsible to deans, at whose pleasure they serve, while their main obligation is supposedly to articulate the concerns and aspirations of their colleagues.
The benefits, both tangible and intangible which accrue to the chair make it difficult for that person to confront and contradict the dispenser of those benefits on behalf of his or her colleagues. In such a situation, the chair is like a factory foreman, selected by management more as a buffer than as a real representative.
There is a second assumption which pervades the discussion in the University Week article, which in some ways is more pernicious. It is the view that a higher place in the administrative hierarchy is more likely to be accompanied by a more general, broader, more comprehensive perspective, that it is only deans who can genuinely be expected to express concern for the college as a whole; the rest of us are deemed to be narrow and provincial, incapable of anything but the most self-serving judgments and decisions.
Indeed, there may be some substance to this view, but it is not clear whether it is cause or effect. In an adversary relationship between administrators and departments, the latter do unfortunately tend to take a short-sighted position emphasizing self-preservation. But with the opportunity of more genuine representation, this self-defeating posture might begin to disappear.
This view that only those at the top can possibly have all the relevant facts is one of the prevailing ideological myths of our society. It combines with the appointment of administrators by those above, instead of their election by those they represent, to produce a rigid, hierarchical structure which violates virtually every principle of genuine self-governance.
Currently, one department has an acting chair, appointed by the dean, who is not and never has been a member of that department, the logical extension of a system of academic colonialism.
Economics Influences Academics at UW
U. W. Daily, 9/20/87
Seattle Times, 10/1/87
Editor:
A recent article in the Seattle Times (September 14, 1987) raises an issue of genuine concern to anyone interested in the independence of our educational institutions. The U of Rochester reportedly denied admission to a Japanese business student presumably because "officials at Kodak, a major university benefactor, said they were worried (the student) might learn company secrets in classroom discussions." To his credit, "former Treasury Secretary William Simon... blasted the school for caving into 'black-mail.'"
This blatant attempt to influence educational policies by business is newsworthy, not because it is some aberration, but rather because it makes explicit what is generally understood to be the rule, namely, that corporations, like The Boeing Company, just to take an example, do not provide large sums of money to educational institutions, like, say, The University of Washington, without severe strings attached. The Kodak Company is apparently more heavy-handed than most, but we should not be lulled by sanctimonious pronouncements to the contrary into thinking that it is unique.
Bloom's book reflects contempt for students
U. W. Daily, 11/13/87
Seattle Times 11/17/87
Editor:
Allan Bloom's book, "The Closing of the American Mind," has apparently captured the imagination of educators and others who seek to understand what is generally referred to as the "crisis" in higher education. One more expert tells us the obvious: Forced to choose, many 18-year-olds would prefer sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll to a liberal education. But if Bloom were to genuinely confront the opportunism and lack of principle of the professors responsible for the latter, it might not seem so outrageous that young people prefer the former. What Bloom and others like him still haven't grasped is that their admiration and respect for Plato and Heidegger do not compensate for their obvious contempt for the students they are supposed to be teaching.
In short, this is one more example of the familiar ploy: the beneficiary blames the victim, and the more acquiescent the victim the better. If Bloom were a physician, he'd be chastising his patients for being sick, as if that constituted an excuse for inferior medical care. If he were a politician, he'd rant about how the people are uninformed, as if that justified corruption and deception in government. And, if Bloom had been a plantation owner, he would have complained about how lazy the slaves were.
Some day, somebody may write the book that addressed the real issue in higher education - Why Johnny Can't Teach - but let's not hold our breath.
Contradictions of certification and education
U. of W. Daily, 1/11/87
Editor:
The Dec. 21 edition of The Sunday Times included two full pages documenting the obvious: faculty salaries at the University of Washington are relatively low. What is disturbing about this exercise is the implication that the “crisis” of higher education is essentially financial. That is a convenient disguise for the fundamental problems of large state institutions of learning, problems, which are philosophical and ethical in nature.
To cite merely one example, consider the fact that at the University of Washington, like most similar universities, the distinction between education and certification has been completely blurred, when there is reason to believe that the two are in fact contradictory. All members of a community presumable are driven in a variety of ways to develop a sense of understanding and discovery, which provides them with gratification and pleasure. The primary function of an educational institution is to nourish and nurture that need. But a certification procedure often stifles that inclination, substituting technical skills, which meet goals, set outside the university, by business and government. A couple of decades ago, the president of General Motors was justly criticized and ridiculed, at least in some circles, for the arrogant claim that “what’s good for General Motors is good for the country.” But now, unfortunately, it is taken for granted that what’s good for The Boeing Company is good for the state of Washington. That proposition should be challenged and debated, not tacitly accepted, especially by so-called educators. An institution devoted to certifying engineers and accountants will benefit industry at the expense of the legitimate educational needs of a majority of its citizens.
One of the earliest “bad-news, good-news” jokes was of the airline pilot who got on the intercom and announced to the passengers that the instrument panel was not functioning, and that as a result the navigator was completely lost. “But the good news,” he said, “is that we’re making wonderful time.” The problems of higher education are lack of direction, not lack of appreciation and understanding of our adversaries, but the lack of principle and integrity of our advocates.