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The Yale Alumni Magazine is owned and operated by Yale Alumni Publications, Inc., a nonprofit corporation independent of Yale University. The content of the magazine and its website is the responsibility of the editors and does not necessarily reflect the views of Yale or its officers. |
I write in reference to the article about Gerhard Casper becoming a member of the Yale Corporation (“Eli’s Stanford Man,” Sum.). I know of no individual better qualified by experience, temperament, and judgment than Casper for such a position. As a member of the Board of Regents of Stanford’s rival institution, the University of California, I worked closely with Gerhard on complex and difficult problems important to both institutions. Gerhard demonstrated integrity, knowledge, and wisdom under trying circumstances. The Corporation made an excellent decision in choosing Gerhard. He will be one of Yale’s all-time best Corporation members.
Assessing China In vain have I scrutinized the two pieces you published about China in the Summer issue (Melinda Tuhus’s “Sticking With China,” and President Richard C. Levin’s baccalaureate address, “China On My Mind”) for any indication that mainland China is one of the world’s foremost violators of human rights. Instead, we are reassured that Yale has joined the great American consensus that whatever China may do to its own citizens (and to American citizens detained in China), we can and should do business with them. Levin observes that “on the future of human rights in China, the jury is still out.” What a slyly diplomatic and monumentally fatuous way to dismiss the subject! One might just as well have said in 1940 that the jury was still out on the future of the Jews in Germany. This man who presumes to instruct the young lacks the simple courage and love of truth to say to them that, whatever else may be said of mainland China, it is in political terms a vicious tyranny. The cold war with the Soviet Union came to an end not as a result of polite accommodation with the Russians, but because a president who was no intellectual, and not even a Yale man, faced down the evil of their system. President Levin will no doubt go down in Yale’s history as an adroit academic politician. But the record of Yale’s moral failure will stand for future inspectors, and he will certainly not be remembered as a man who speaks truth to power.
The Bush Degree Your article, “Right, Left, & Commencement” (Sum.), described Commencement exercises boycotted by three Sterling professors and 200 faculty, because the newly elected president of the United States, a Yale graduate, was to be presented with an honorary degree. The intellectual arrogance of these protesters apparently precludes the possibility of considering someone else’s viewpoint. Their crude behavior was disrespectful to the office of the president, the Yale graduates, the University, and the educational process. Boycotting an appearance by Bill Clinton or Al Gore at Commencement would have been equally reprehensible. In the weeks leading up to Commencement, word spread that the Yale Corporation had selected President George W. Bush as a recipient of an honorary degree and accorded him the additional honor of addressing the graduates. When I first got wind of this report, I assumed it to be the work of one of Yale’s many bands of merry pranksters. It was not until a few days prior to the event, upon hearing of protests planned by both undergraduates and faculty members, that the veracity of the rumor became apparent. Faculty protest took the form of a boycott—the butt of numerous jokes on Commencement Day. Every year, the jibes went, the majority of the faculty fail to attend, but thanks to the president’s presence they got to do so this year as a matter of principle. Cynicism aside, the boycott seemed to give up too much—celebrating with the seniors I’d come to know over the past two years as a graduate student fellow of Ezra Stiles College—while giving too little visible protest in return. Thus I chose instead to join the undergraduate demonstrators, who held up small signs with issue-oriented slogans (mine read “Conservation Not Consumption”) when the president received his degree. Most participants would probably agree that the reception given to the president started off lukewarm; there were no fiery demonstrations, nor did the crowd embrace him warmly. The president’s deportment in the first part of the ceremony couldn’t have won many converts. His countenance looked alternately bored, tired, smug, and uncomfortable. But that changed when the West Texan took the lectern. He came alive, barraging the audience with a relentless succession of sarcastic jokes, and we stooped to the occasion. As media reports indicated, his speech was a veritable orgy of anti-intellectualism. Bush went so far as to mock those students who had spent the past four years trying to put their gifts to hard work by praising them with supercilious insincerity. He cele- brated getting Cs, getting hung over, and getting nowhere academically, turning this minor tragedy into the colossal travesty of ending up rich, powerful, and honored. As the president spoke, I held my small sign aloft to protest against what I believe to be his administration’s misguided and irresponsible policies. But it is not for ideological reasons that the Yale Corporation’s decision is, in my opinion, a stain on our institution’s integrity. It has nothing to do with the controversial circumstances surrounding the election, or the fact that Bush’s presidency is in its infancy—too early, some argue, to be deemed worthy or unworthy. Nor is it even on the basis of popular opinion. (84 percent of the graduating class voted for someone else in the 2000 election.) These were all reasons for discontent on Commencement Day, but they are not what moved me to write this letter of dissent. What disturbed me so deeply about that day was witnessing the farcical debasement of the basic ideals that, as an undergraduate and graduate student, I’ve understood the Yale community to hold most dear: the love of learning and commitment to the pursuit of knowledge. Such intellectual vitality and integrity manifest themselves in myriad forms, as demonstrated by the impressive array of honorees—with one glaring exception. Far from regretting the opportunities squandered in his college days, or proving his embrace of these values in his subsequent career, President Bush thumbed his nose at them, and congratulated himself on his ability to do well without them. We, the crowd, were tricked by the president’s comedy routine into thawing an initially icy reception. With the first chuckle, perhaps we thought we were laughing at him. But before we knew it, he had us laughing with him at ourselves—at our best selves. Our laughter could be heard on the network news that night, turning Yale’s honorable ideals into a national laughingstock. Perhaps in the end the faculty protesters were right. In cases such as this, abstinence may be the only safe option. I fervently hope that the next time the Yale Corporation and Yale community are confronted with the temptation to honor powerful persons who actively and publicly deride our University’s fundamental mission, we have the wisdom and courage to abstain.
Attacking AIDS As a graduate of Yale and a physician, I was appalled to learn of the University’s involvement with the leasing of the patent for the antiviral agent d4T (Zerit) to the drug company Bristol-Myers Squibb for $40 million a year (“Light & Verity,” May). The administration of the University certainly should have known that restricted access to Zerit for those unable to afford its exorbitant price would deprive many suffering from HIV/AIDS of the benefits of this life-saving medicine. While pharmaceutical companies are expected to generate profits from the selective sale of essential medications, institutions of higher learning are not. For years now, these antiviral medicines have only been available to the few who could afford them. In Africa, where there are over 26 million people who are HIV-positive, the situation is desperate. Last year alone, 2.4 million Africans died from the disease, and AIDS is expected to claim the lives of at least half of all 15-year-olds there. After enormous international pressure and threats from developing nations to manufacture generic equivalents, a few companies like Merck and Bristol-Myers Squibb have decided to offer these drugs at reduced rates. However, the cost of one year’s treatment for those in need is still beyond what any African nation can afford. Moreover, most African nations lack the health care infrastructure to conduct large-scale treatment campaigns. Finally, malaria and tuberculosis still kill more people worldwide than does AIDS, and although we have inexpensive cures for these diseases, most poor countries lack the medication and resources to treat those who are infected. The AIDS epidemic affects all nations; it can only be successfully combatted with a sustained and well-coordinated global effort. Organizations like the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and the U.N., together with the richer nations and international pharmaceutical companies, should establish an international fund to ensure that essential medicines, health education, and other services are provided to those developing nations wracked by diseases like AIDS, tuberculosis, and malaria. The story of d4T bears an important lesson for Yale. As institutions of higher learning are forced to enter joint ventures with industry, including the pharmaceutical industry, to generate financial support, they cannot be blind to the uses and restrictions applied to their innovations. The development and marketing of Zerit demonstrates the conflicts inherent in these arrangements. Fortunately, organizations like Doctors Without Borders brought this situation to light, and the Yale student body campaigned for a change in the licensing agreement. Fortunately as well, the University decided to listen to its students and ultimately did the right thing. What do we do now? Future agreements between industry and the University should be guided by the highest moral and ethical standards. Yale should establish a committee to review these deals prior to signing and should share them with the University community. Yale can become a leader among academic centers in supporting international medical efforts, educating the public about global health, and establishing high standards for joint ventures.
Union Blues In “Highs & Lows of Town & Gown” (Mar.), your mention of the 1971 labor strike as a “low” struck a raw nerve. Lasting considerably longer than the 1971 strike, the 1984 strike by the clerical and technical (C&T) workers ruined my senior year. The University experience comprises both intellectual and social interaction with professors and peers. With libraries and cafeterias closed and the gym all but shut down, the C&T union ruined both. Given the union’s power to shut down the University, I would now think twice before investing more than $30,000 per year for the Yale experience.
Focus on Photographers “Racing By Design” (Apr.), your cover piece on my classmate Turner Brooks’s new boathouse, is excellent. I’m troubled, however, by what may seem a minor matter of editorial judgment. In an article where the photo space is about triple that allocated to the text (making this a picture story by definition), I found no picture byline. After scouring the edge of the article with a strong magnifying glass, I finally spied the photographer’s name secreted in the feeblest four-point type. As a photographer, I’m all too adept at this annoying and demeaning exercise, but I can’t help wondering how many readers missed the picture credit altogether. The photographers, Michael Marsland and Richard Cadan, should have shared the conspicuous byline enjoyed exclusively by the writer, executive editor Mark Alden Branch. It is curious that this same issue features a piece acknowledging the University’s dilatory exception of another visual art, film (“Lights! Camera! Yale”). Yale, it tells us, has long held that the medium “wasn’t worthy of serious study.” Do I smell an institutional bias?
Selection Anxiety I read Robert Reich’s article, “The Selectivity Squeeze” (Dec.), with interest and increasing unease. Reich’s premise (oversimplified) is that inequality is bad, and that colleges should seek out promising students from lower income families and make it possible for them to go to college. He believes that standardized tests are unfair to some, but offers no validated alternative to them. The fact is, humans are unequal. Some are prepared to profit from college work, some (for whatever reason) are not. Colleges, having limited resources, must seek out the most qualified students, using enough self-discipline to avoid the bidding wars rampant in professional sports. I suggest, with respect, that Reich and others in the education business turn their attention toward improving primary and secondary schools. Despite skyrocketing dollars spent per student, results are still unsatisfactory. Responsibility for this situation rests with two—and only two—groups: students and teachers. Students can succeed if they do the homework, pay attention and participate in class, and ask for help in a timely fashion. It’s guaranteed! On the premise that teachers should know more than their students, I modestly propose that secondary school teachers take the SAT every three years. If a teacher scores below the “average,” he or she must take the test the next year. Failure to achieve an “average” grade in that second try subjects him or her to dismissal. Salaries should be reasonably related to SAT scores. Teachers' unions will of course cry “foul!” So it’s up to local school boards and us voters to stand up and be counted.
More Light on Kahn With reference to the letter about the former Jewish Community Center in New Haven (Sum.), I may be able to shed some light on Louis Kahn’s participation. The project was given to two local architects—Charles Abramowitz and Jacob Weinstein. Kahn, who was a visiting critic at the School of Architecture at the time, was asked by the building committee to provide whatever design assistance he could. Since the local architects did not have a support staff, they employed me (at the time in my last year at the School of Architecture) to prepare the drawings under their supervision. I thus had contact with Louis Kahn on several occasions. His input was primarily with the façade, but he was limited, and thus restrained, by the planning of the building structure, including the unfortunate steps necessary to lead up to the entrance. He may have been “frustrated” since he could do very little to change the design, but he was always cordial to me and offered minor suggestions as I drew up the details. It was obviously not his cup of tea, but only a favor to the owners. For me, incidentally, it was a great “practical” experience as I finished up my studies, plus a delight in meeting and talking with Louis Kahn.
“Health” Care? The March Yale Alumni Magazine reported that Yale is now providing RU-486 abortions through its University Health Services (“Light & Verity”), and that acting director of public affairs Thomas Conroy stated that this is “part of the effort to provide the best and most comprehensive care to the students, staff, and faculty.” One would suppose that he means “health” care, and that is where the moral bankruptcy of Yale’s action becomes abundantly clear. The drug RU-486 provides no health care whatsoever. It just kills babies. To the Pro-Life League’s complaint that part of its members' tuition money is being used to fund these abortions, Conroy unbelievably responded, “Male students can’t say they can’t use gynecological services, so they shouldn’t have to contribute to the cost of other members of the health plan.” Conroy really had no way to intelligently respond to the Pro-Life League protest, so he did the next best thing—he responded unintelligently.
For the Love of the Game The resignation of the top-scoring basketball player Onaje Woodbine '02 to partake in Yale’s greater life (“College Comment,” Nov.) prompts my regret and relief that my son chose to apply elsewhere to college. My son discovered early last August that the soccer program had already chosen their five candidates for admission. A fellow alumnus close to an admissions officer assured me that the early recruits would all be admitted, that playing as a walk-on is rare, and that intramurals might be fun. There are no first-year or JV teams. I lament the splintered excellence of Yale athletics. As undergraduates, my roommate Terry Finn and I (on the basketball and hockey teams respectively) wrote our college dean regarding our gruesome travel schedules. The University Secretary treated us to lunch and a sympathetic ear at Mory’s. While I’m glad travel has now consolidated to two weekends away per month, the drive to concentrate on one sport year round, to play through the summer for special teams, and to secure early admission brings excellence at the cost of goodness. Rather than become a leader in amateur sports (the cause that shaped the Ivy League), Yale has succumbed to an early professionalism. I realize any moves must be in tandem with other institutions. Perhaps Yale can take the lead. Those of her children who love sports, play well, and want to grow into a greater life will benefit.
Dancers’ Lament I found the complete lack of attention to dance in your otherwise excellent article, “High Performance” (Feb.), to be symptomatic of a greater problem at Yale. I find it fascinating that a University that is so renowned for its performing arts programs shows so little support for the dancers in its community. Music and theater would seem to be the only art forms worth supporting. While there are entire schools devoted to their study, serious dance is only taught (if taught at all) in college seminars of limited size. From 1993 to 1997, I was a member of Yaledancers, a small, selective group of dancers. We received $300 from Yale each semester—hardly enough to pay for the teachers or performance space we required. We paid for master teachers to come from New York twice each week. We rented space at the Educational Center for the Arts, an independent theater, since the usual Yale stages were not safe for dancing. We relied on our box office receipts and donations to keep us afloat. The paltry support from Yale hardly made a difference. You may counter that Yale does teach dance, in classes offered at the gym. I would point out to you that (at least while I was a student at Yale) most of those classes were taught by undergraduate members of Yaledancers. It would be perfectly unacceptable for the Yale Symphony Orchestra to be directed solely by undergraduates. So why is it so for dance? I have often wondered if the weak curriculum in dance has anything to do with the fact that it is a field dominated by women. I doubt that there were many undergraduate dance groups in the days before women came to Yale. Perhaps we have not yet had enough time to exert our influence. I look forward to returning for reunions in the future, and to seeing a department of dance at Yale. Who knows what potential waits to be realized?
Alternatives to Alcohol Kara Loewentheil’s portrait of alcohol abuse among her classmates, “Why Do Yalies Drink So Much?” (Feb.), was depressing. The saddest aspect of the portrait she paints is that of Yale undergraduates huddled in a room around a bottle of vodka. This just confirms the illogic that swept this country when the drinking age was raised (by federal fiat) to 21 in the mid-1980s, after having been lowered in most states in the 1960s. During my time at Yale, there certainly were problems of alcohol abuse, as there have been since humans discovered the stuff. But most of the drinking that went on was in public, under faculty or campus police oversight, at college SAC parties or courtyard keg parties. Students were much more likely to stand around a keg of warm, foamy beer than pass around a fifth of the hard stuff, because campus social life encouraged them to learn to drink socially and in relative moderation. Since drinking by undergraduates has been driven underground, drinking problems have soared. The best way to keep students from abusing alcohol and developing lifelong drinking problems is to encourage them to learn to enjoy alcohol responsibly as adults, and to show them how by example. Obviously, this is a bigger problem than Yale can even begin to solve on its own, but it should serve as a cautionary note on the dangers of prohibitionist thinking in our society. Kara Loewentheil ends her article on binge drinking at Yale by reflecting, “There must be a better way.” There is. For hundreds of years, university students have sought ways (some constructive, some destructive) to balance the pressures of a very intense academic life. As a sophomore at Yale, I was fortunate to learn the Transcendental Meditation (TM) technique through the campus chapter of the Students' International Meditation Society. TM is an effortless mental technique that systematically allows the mind to transcend, or “go beyond,” the active thinking level, and to experience the field of pure consciousness, an unbounded reservoir of energy and intelligence at the source of thought. Taking this approach of expanding the container of knowledge, one’s own mind, makes it possible to cope with an ever-expanding field of knowledge without feeling stress. The experience of millions of people who practice the TM program is confirmed by extensive scientific research demonstrating that with regular practice of TM and the resulting growth of a higher state of consciousness, destructive habits naturally fall away. Transcendental Meditation is the practical aspect of Maharishi Vedic Science, a science of consciousness. Many of us who learned TM at Yale continue to practice it daily. The Maharishi Vedic Science Association of Yale Alumni includes college presidents and professors, medical doctors, lawyers, architects, and business people who find that TM provides the deep rest and enhanced creativity that makes professional life successful and fulfilling instead of stressful.
Corrections Eloquent Elis” (Mar.) should have attributed the quote, “Follow the money,” to William Goldman, screenwriter of All the President’s Men. In our account of Bowling Alone author Robert Putnam’s visit to the campus (“Faces,” May), we referred to him as a sociologist. He is a political scientist. And in the Summer issue: On page 24, we misspelled the name of Tanina Rostain; on page 30, we also misspelled Stanford University’s motto, “Die Luft der Freiheit Weht” (“The Wind of Freedom Blows”). |
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