EVERYDAY MIRACLES
What a great ant on the latest cover. In a lighthearted way, I find it refreshing to read that so many of our reigning scholars don’t know as much as we thought and that they realize this themselves. Even the learned “ant lady” says she hasn’t figured out yet what makes the whole colony tick (“Life in the Colonies,” January/ February). It’s all so profound, yet so inconsequential to everyday life.
Jo Jean DeCristoforo, ’45
Sacramento, California
I hope behavioral ecologist Tom Seeley’s comment that Deborah Gordon’s modeling of the behavior of ant colonies is “a fast road to nowhere” was quoted out of context. Dr. Gordon’s imaginative and synthetic approach reminds us that practitioners in the field of biology still do a great deal more than just sequencing DNA. That the complex behavior of an ant colony is no more than the summed outcome of simple units following nonhierarchical interaction rules is an audacious idea, and it’s even more audacious to imagine that learning the rules will teach us something about other nonhierarchical systems, like brains. But if the ideas have yet to be established, as Seeley claims, what better way to do that than to construct a computer model, thereby making the logic and assumptions transparent, and use it to generate predictions about colony behavior that can be tested by observation?
Peter Waser, ’68
Professor of Biological Sciences
Purdue University
West Lafayette, Indiana
ROTC REACTIONS
“Corps Curriculum” (January/ February) drew scores of responses. Here is a sampling of views expressed:
Through direct experience with Navy ROTC during the turbulent years, I feel qualified to comment on the “intellectual embarrassment” with which Professor Barton Bernstein viewed the “sophomoric” program. There is nothing more sophomoric and naive than his statement that ROTC “is fundamentally unacceptable at a university,” or Professor Cecilia Ridgeway’s statement that “universities are about solving problems through discussion, not military approaches.” There are many Osama bin Laden types in the world who, no matter how cogent the logic in myriad “discussions,” will seek death and destruction of Americans. The only deterrence is a cadre of men and women in this country who stand ready to apply force proportionately, swiftly and effectively.
Rocky Deal, ’72
Susanville, California
When Professor Bernstein says, “ROTC represents a group of pseudo-faculty preparing students for war and training them to kill,” I am insulted.
In the fall of 1969, my senior year, I was the student commander of the Army ROTC unit at Stanford. I was also playing on the varsity basketball team. I well remember speaking, at the University’s request, to the jam-packed audience and Faculty Senate at the meeting on the status of ROTC, held in Dinkelspiel Auditorium. It was a tense and hostile setting. I asked a simple question: would you rather have our armed forces led only by officers trained at West Point, Annapolis or the Air Force Academy, or would you like to see our armed forces infused with officers educated and trained at the great universities of our country? Perhaps a little leaven in the loaf? A different perspective?
A year later, I was in Vietnam, directly responsible for more than 125 men in a combat zone. It was exhausting and demanded every bit of creativity, courage, vigilance and perseverance I could muster. During my tour, three men in my unit were killed. When I finally out-processed at Oakland Army Depot, I received obscene gestures from bystanders. Nevertheless, I knew I had done my best, having served my men, my country and my family.
Greg Osborn, ’70, MBA ’74
Palo Alto, California
My ire was raised by the statement, “More than 30 years after it left campus during a spasm [italics mine] of antiwar fervor, ROTC survives at the margins. . . .” I was part of that spasm. Many distinguished faculty, staff and alumni were also part—indeed, led and defined that spasm. The Stanford audience deserves a balanced account of the tumultuous era from 1964 to 1972.
As a nation, we seem to have forgotten the true moral complexity of the Vietnam War era, when many people faced a difficult choice: either to fall in line and support a corrupted, imperialist policy or to challenge the establishment for a change in the conduct of foreign affairs. Despite the present amnesia, I believe the country, including Stanford, benefited from the points of tension that arose in the so-called spasm.
In the post-September 11 patriotic fervor, it is easy to be swept away, as evidently your author has been, by the jingoism to reestablish a national “military tradition.” It is a proud tradition, to which we owe a great deal. However, it is a tradition that must fit in an institutional context. Thirty years ago, the University decided that one component of the military tradition—ROTC—did not deserve academic credit at Stanford. The decision did allow ROTC to continue as a voluntary association on campus.
To suggest now that a particular part of the U.S. governmental structure is entitled to a type of presence in the curriculum denies the decisions that were carefully and thoughtfully made by the faculty, trustees, administration and student body.
One final note: had I, as a student activist in the Class of ’70, read a letter from an alum who was (as I am now) 32 years out of college (in my case it would have been someone from the Class of ’38), I would have disregarded his or her comments. The challenge facing Stanford is to find ways to break the chronological segregation we suffer from and create bridges of understanding between generations.
Patrick A. Shea, ’70
Salt Lake City, Utah
Several faculty comments reveal a pernicious conflation of “military” with “militaristic.” Militarism is the excessive glorification of military values and behavior, often associated with a proclivity for aggression. Although the United States, regrettably, needs military force to protect its interests, it has generally rejected militarism. One important protection against the spread of militarism in the armed forces is an officer corps educated at the very first-rate universities from which Professor Ridgeway argues all military should be banned. On the other hand, a sure way to inculcate militarism in our soldiers is to segregate them from civil society while insulting their personal intelligence and institutional values.
As for Professor Bernstein’s point that ROTC teaches how to kill, I believe that the people whom we as a nation employ to kill on our behalf ought to be guided in their actions by the highest level of moral and political education.
We liberal intellectuals shun our nation’s soldiers at our peril; we ought to see it as in our interest to educate them.
Eugenia Kiesling, PhD ’88
Associate Professor of Military History
U.S. Military Academy
West Point, New York
Stanford’s motto is “the wind of freedom blows.” The implication by faculty that Stanford people should be the beneficiaries of freedom while rejecting military leadership as a matter of policy is irresponsible.
William A. Shadle, ’84
Roseville, California
Professor Bernstein should know that those who are prepared survive. Does he teach in his history class that the losers in past wars were the winners?
Glenn Waterman, ’33
Bainbridge Island, Washington
I thought the education Stanford provided me was simply outstanding, and I continue to think that, educationally, Stanford programs, faculty and students remain a true national treasure. Nonetheless, I believe that Stanford’s continued opposition to campus-based, credited ROTC is abhorrent. The University aggressively pursues diversity in its students but doesn’t trust those same students to pursue intellectual diversity by learning about military affairs.
Professors Bernstein and Ridgeway decry ROTC with narrow arguments but seem to have no comment on the intimate relationship that Stanford has long had with the national security of this country. Condoleezza Rice, previously professor and provost, is now the president’s national security adviser. Stanford continues to engage in significant contract work for the Department of Defense and has accepted large gifts and endowments from companies and people who are at the very core of the modern American defense industry. Perhaps the Faculty Senate should discuss the meaning of hypocritical?
Eugene P. Durbin, PhD ’65
Oxford, Ohio
Surely an institution of Stanford’s rank could find ways to accommodate the military’s responsibility to train new soldiers with the University’s high standards. If there are any doubts about the wisdom of such an undertaking, one need only read the comments of the ROTC students in your article. The maturity and commitment of these individuals should elicit admiration from even the most skeptical critic.
Nancy Neaher Maas, MA ’72, PhD ’76
Ithaca, New York
Congratulations and thumbs-up to the 29 brave ROTC students at Stanford. I wish there were some way I could help them.
Jane M. Hergenreter, ’37
Topeka, Kansas
Having gone through the ROTC program, I can verify that it was an easy A. But that was long ago. Today’s defense operations, development and planning involve an incredibly complex orchestration of strategy, technology, logistics, training and finance. Junior officers provide both support and input to all facets of the process. Instead of dismissing the defense of the United States as an activity not worthy of Stanford’s attention, why doesn’t the faculty help the military design an academic program that would address the advanced needs of the defense establishment?
Richard W. Bremner, ’53
Westlake Village, California
I can understand not allowing academic credit for non-academic-level courses, but forcing students to travel off campus wastes their time, which is already pressed by regular ROTC demands on top of Stanford courses. The University has an opportunity to raise the level of instruction by getting involved. For instance, if a particular ROTC course seems too simplistic to a history professor, he or she could make an additional reading assignment and test to go along with it. Such a program might well be emulated at Stanford’s peer schools; leading is what Stanford does best.
James Drummond, PhD ’56
Lincoln City, Oregon
You state that ROTC enrollments had “shrunk to a few dozen” by 1969. In fact, 586 were enrolled in 1963-64, 346 in the fall of 1968 and 250 in 1969. Furthermore, you do not mention the report of a University committee appointed by President Pitzer that negotiated possible compromises with the Defense Department on issues related to academic quality.
Dan Caldwell, ’70, MA/PhD ’78
Professor of Political Science
Pepperdine University
Malibu, California
I don’t think we need to worry about how the United States will do without Stanford grads as officers; the nation has shown it can prosper without them. My regret is that Stanford students are foreclosed from courses that might benefit them.
Hal Hughes, ’69, JD ’72
Sandy, Utah
If you can stand to hear from an old soldier (Vietnam, 1969-71) who took his Army commission at the Farm and whose son, Rory, ’03, commutes to Berkeley for his Navy ROTC, there may be a few points worth considering. War does happen, and when it happens, it is to everybody’s advantage to have a few well-educated citizen soldiers participating along with the regular officers. If, in the interest of keeping Stanford pristine, we discourage Stanford graduates from serving as infantry platoon leaders or rifle company commanders, we have little right to complain when our wars are fought by mercenaries or, worse, when there are atrocities. I know whereof I speak.
John Stevens Berry, ’60
Lincoln, Nebraska
MAGICAL AFTERNOON
Ken Kesey was a folk hero at the Farm when I was a student in the early ’70s (Examined Life, January/February), so you can imagine the pleasantness of my surprise in 1988 when I landed just a few farms over from his in Pleasant Hill, Ore. Although he was, as you note, a “celebrated author, psychedelic pioneer and iconic hero,” the kids at Spotlight, our small community theater, knew little of his literary achievements or legendary status as a “key figure of the Sixties.” They just knew him as a kind and friendly man who shared ideas and gave encouragement and creative inspiration.
Last summer, Ken and Faye took a bunch of Spotlight kids on a picnic. I was lucky enough to tag along, and it was a magical afternoon. We began by touch-up painting the bus and ended by taking turns on a weird instrument of his called the Thunder Machine. In view of the paramount importance Ken placed on family and community, I find it very fitting that his last Merry Prankster picnic was one he spent surrounded by both, challenging second- and third-generation Pranksters to create with color and music and joy.
Ken’s legacy in the literary world is great; his legacy as a cultural pioneer is arguably greater. His legacy among the children and families of Pleasant Hill is beyond measure.
Rob Laney, ’74
Pleasant Hill, Oregon
BEST OF BOTH WORLDS
University athletics directors seem to have an overwhelming need to deny that scholarship athletes get a break in college admissions (Farm Report, November/ December). Defending not just Stanford but dozens of other campuses, athletics director Ted Leland complains that critics asserting this point failed to test their statistics for significance. That may be, but the Stanford SAT numbers the article reports also seem to support the same conclusion.
Why the defensiveness? Any school wanting to compete at the highest level needs athletic talent. Stanford finds it in students who also seem to contribute off the field (in school and later), through admissions compromises that seem relatively small compared with those of its rivals. No reasonable person should begrudge Stanford’s athletic success on these terms.
If he is serious about demonstrating that athletes are no different academically from other students, Dr. Leland has the data and expertise to conduct a statistically valid study to prove it. Otherwise, my suggestion is that he simply let the subject go and bask in deserved credit for overseeing a program that well balances the best of both worlds.
Carl Danner, ’80
Alamo,California
FEAST AND FAMINE
The solution to the health financing problem to which business professor Alain Enthoven has dedicated his life’s work (Farm Report, November/December) is in Exodus: “And Joseph said to Pharoah: the meaning of the dream in which the seven lean shocks of wheat devoured the seven fat ones is that there will be seven years of plenty, followed by seven years of famine. During the seven years of plenty, you should gather the surplus crops into barns, to be used during the seven years of want.”
In 1885, Bismarck advised Kaiser Wilhelm that the unprecedented wealth produced by the industrial revolution could become economic chaos that would drive the workers to socialism. Setting aside a few pfennigs every day from every worker’s earnings for their future needs would ensure social stability. Unions didn’t like it because they wanted benefits to go only to union members, but in the next 25 years, all European governments adopted it.
Thinking that the European class system was what made German medicine great, the American medical establishment sought to limit medical careers to a wealthy elite and assured FDR that such physicians would always care for the poor for free. But what truly made the German system superior was the money—the huge amounts of capital poured into the industry by making every patient a paying patient.
Having a practice full of nonpaying patients didn’t work out well for my grandfather. And taxing workers to support a hospital system to which they are not entitled doesn’t work well for patients or hospitals. It’s as if Pharaoh took the wheat into barns, but then, instead of giving it to the hungry people, gave it to insurance companies to sell so as to have more money to invest in pyramids.
Stephanie Muñoz
Los Altos Hills, California
IN THEIR OWN WORDS
I am a daughter of Arthur L. Schawlow, professor of physics at Stanford from 1961 until his death in 1999, and also a niece of Charles Townes. They are the two Nobel laureates who, according to your description of Theodore Maiman’s The Laser Odyssey (Showcase, November/December), “tried to discredit him and marginalize his achievement.” Your readers may wish to decide whether facts bear this out by consulting How the Laser Happened by Charles Townes (Oxford University Press, New York, 1999) and Arthur Schawlow’s oral history, conducted in 1997 by the Oral History Office of UC-Berkeley.
Helen Schawlow Johnson, ’79, PhD ’87
Stevens Point, Wisconsin
REDISCOVERING JEFFERS
Reading your piece on the half-forgotten California poet Robinson Jeffers (Showcase, November/December) evoked the excitement of discovery when I first read “Tamar” and “Roan Stallion” in one of those tiny Modern Library editions as an undergraduate. Later, while serving in World War II, I bought a larger, elegant, cloth-bound Random House edition of his Selected Poems (at a hefty $3.50). When I arrived at Stanford, I already thought Jeffers was the greatest poet who ever lived.
One evening, a fellow grad student who lived in Carmel said she’d drive me by Tor House. As we crept through the dense fog, her headlights transfixed a black-clad man, wearing a cape or coat over his shoulders, walking toward us. Under a black slouch hat, his white, craggy face looked straight ahead. My friend said, “Why, that’s Robinson Jeffers!” We turned around at Tor House, its top lost in the fog, and drove slowly back past him, neither of us having the courage to say hello.
Knowing of my hero worship for Jeffers, my ichthyology professor, Rolf Bolin (a wonderful man and superb teacher), said I should have screwed up my courage. I often went with Bolin to the lab of his friend Ed Ricketts (“Doc” in Cannery Row), and John Steinbeck was there a couple of times. The three together were an intellectual whirlpool, hail-fellows-well-met.
Jeffers’s literary mood is often dark and violent, but it has validity. When I see the land desertified, the air and streams polluted, people brutalized by war and terrorism, and wild species driven to extinction, I can empathize with his bitter “I’d sooner, except the penalties, kill a man than a hawk.” But fortunately, over the years, I have been more affected by the optimistic humanism of Professor Bolin than by Jeffers’s “inhumanistic” pessimism.
Martin Brittan, PhD ’51
Folsom, California
CORRECTION
The canonical collections of the Hadith were compiled in the third century of the Islamic calendar—which begins with Muhammad’s migration from Mecca to Medina in A.D. 622—not the third century of the common-era calendar (“Seeking Deeper Understanding of the Koran,” Farm Report, January/February).
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