Big Brother
Henry Corrigan-Gibbs ("Keeping Secrets," November/December) quotes former NSA director Vice Adm. Bobby Ray Inman: "He [current director] has a huge challenge on his plate. How does he . . . can he, in fact, reestablish a sense of trust?"
Granted, the NSA and other secretive national security agencies perform essential duties. And, no doubt, the vast majority of employees are fine, responsible patriots. But no, we cannot, nor should we, trust them. Here are seven reasons why.
1) They operate in secrecy and this, in itself, is temptation for zealous overreaching, self-dealing and corruption.
2) They employ armies of consultants and contractors who may have incentives and interests beyond public responsibility and service.
3) Historically these agencies have demonstrated that they can't be trusted—lying to Congress, passing titillating "selfies" around the office, wholesale surveillance into the most intimate moments and affairs of people worldwide. Include the CIA and other secretive agencies, and we find aggressive campaigns to overthrow democracies, complicity in the illegal drug trade, arms dealing and money laundering, spying on Congress, aggressive campaigns to suborn the news media and mislead the public. Then there's the FBI—recording Martin Luther King's sex life and sending him poison-pen blackmail letters. Oh, and consider the abuses of civil forfeiture laws by police and corrupt prosecutors. Might not detailed dossiers of our assets and personal foibles, widely distributed through "fusion" centers, paint targets on our backs? The list goes on.
4) The CIA, at crucial moments in history, biased analysis in the interest of ideology and politics. So how can we be sure of other agencies?
5) There seems to be a revolving door out of public service and into private armament and surveillance industries, where all bets concerning public interest are off.
6) Most crucially, the NSA and other agencies have constructed technology and systems with horrifying potential for totalitarian oppression. The current political regime may keep the nightmare scenarios well in check. But what of the future? The next big terrorist attack? Climate catastrophe? What guarantees have we that it will always be so?
7) Technology is moving into ever more invasive realms—into the inner neural circuits of the brain itself. Do we really want secret agencies rooting around in there?
Yes, these agencies perform essential functions. And we should be grateful for much that they do. But they must be kept accountable to the citizens whom they serve through rigorous independent oversight and serious sanctions imposed on those who step over well-defined lines.
The first question I would ask is how much of what they do is fearmongering in the interest of empire building?
The second question: How much sensitive political or economic information "leaks" out to corporate or partisan interests at the expense of public welfare?
And, while we're at it, we need to cast a steely eye on invasive surveillance by the private sector.
So, trust them? No. Never. We need a serious national conversation to draw the lines, establish more rigorous and effective oversight, and to define and, where warranted, impose toothy sanctions.
Lloyd R. Prentice, MA '71
Marshfield, Massachusetts
Thank you for publishing this highly interesting and valuable article.
I am a German computer engineer and IT security consultant, and I used to be a cryptographer and researcher years ago. Today I am trying to investigate how the German intelligence service Bundesnachrichtendienst (BND) tried to influence, manipulate and block research on cryptography in the '90s, and how the careers of those cryptographers doing harmless things were pushed, while the careers of those who worked on protecting private communication were ruined, and they were expelled from universities.
Your article was quite valuable, informative and inspiring. I wouldn't have seen it if you hadn't published it on medium.com.
Hadmut Danisch
Berlin, Germany
Faculty Numbers
Your numbers are missing a reference to the size of faculty in 1993 ("At Last Count," Farm Report, November/December). I found one article saying women were 16 percent of the 1993 faculty, which would give an estimated total faculty of 1,369 based on your estimate of 219 women then.
If so, then African-American faculty are unchanged over the 20 years as a percentage, and much of the increase in numbers for women is simply related to the increase in total faculty.
George McKinney, PhD '70
Santa Rosa, California
Hoover Findings
It need not be a mystery about the use of Hoover Tower facilities to maintain medium- and short-wave radio monitoring during WWII ("What You Don't Know About Hoover Tower," Farm Report, September/October; "Hoover's Long Reach," Letters, November/December). Graduate student Oswald Garrison "Mike" Villard and undergrad Robert A. Helliwell, both E.E. majors and both later elected to the National Academy of Science, tape-recorded radio broadcasts. Photos illustrating their efforts are in print in Stanford publications from years ago (and lost somewhere in my files). More importantly, both Villard, '43, PhD '49, and Helliwell, '44, PhD '48, simultaneously developed Fred Terman's project out at the old Ryan High Voltage Labs to build a multifrequency ionospheric sounder to join a small network of sounders (including one operated by Stanford E.E. grad E.H. Bramhall, '26, in Alaska) to learn about the structure of the ionosphere and of ionospheric propagation of radio waves over long distances. I dedicated my biography of Terman, Fred Terman at Stanford (Stanford University Press, 2004), to Villard and Helliwell.
Stew Gillmor, '62
Higganum, Connecticut
Recent mention of the Hoover Library brought to mind a visit I made to present the papers of my father-in-law. A librarian gave me a tour of the place, and I was struck by the script of the abdication speech of Czar Nicholas II. It was typewritten, with additions and scratch-outs by hand, as the czar delivered it on Radio Moscow. I didn't know Radio Moscow existed before the revolution. The most interesting thing the librarian pointed out was that in the computer age, changes would be lost, removing the second thoughts or the original thoughts of the czar or his ghost.
In the computer age, only the final version survives.
Donald H. Shannon, '44
Washington, D.C.
What Price Athletics?
President Hennessy said it best [quoting Bill and Melinda Gates] in his column ("Optimism Meets Empathy," September/October): "There's an infectious feeling here that innovation can solve almost every problem." I'd like to see that same thinking applied to Stanford's participation in the changing landscape of collegiate athletics ("Game Changer," September/October).
Rather than withdraw from the situation, I encourage our university to engage it and serve as a role model for other athletic programs. Athletic programs across the country view Stanford Athletics as a beacon of success. We've also won 20 Directors' Cups in a row, which certainly adds some weight.
Sometimes something radical needs to happen to ignite change. The Northwestern NLRB ruling is such an example. If upheld, universities might have to negotiate benefits with players (gasp). Maybe it is time for players to have a seat at the table, rather than have edicts come down from high-level administrators who might or might not have actually played the game. Gauging the salaries of those making the decisions (NCAA's President Mark Emmert made $1.7 million in 2011), you wonder how in touch they are with today's student-athlete. If you actually get into the details of the various lawsuits targeting the NCAA, players are asking for better benefits, not paychecks.
One such example is our very own Jason White, '02, a teammate of mine who successfully sued the NCAA. The premise of the suit was that a full-ride scholarship really isn't. The 2008 settlement established a $10 million fund to support qualifying players for expenses incurred outside of tuition, room, board, etc. The fund also provides support for players who did not graduate, or wish to seek continuing education. The NCAA opposed establishing the fund every step of the way, but lost.
In the midst of all the "pay for play" controversy, what you're really seeing is a generation of players and ex-players who are banding together to demand better rights from organizations that are making incredible profits from their labor. In this world of hyper media sports coverage, it's tough for players to see everyone in the complex making money except for them, particularly when they lack financial resources of their own. The situation is inflamed when the NCAA takes a draconian stance on player benefits. In my day, we were told we couldn't accept even a birthday cake from a fan, lest we suffer an NCAA infraction for improper benefits. And it gets worse.
University of Georgia's superstar running back Todd Gurley was recently suspended as he allegedly accepted $400 to sign autographs on team apparel, including jerseys. Sure, it's a knucklehead decision, but do you think he took that risk for fun, or do you think he needed the money? It's widely condoned that the university took a licensing fee on the jerseys he was signing, and the apparel companies made their cut, but he is the one in trouble. Tough to stomach, knowing what guys do now about coaching and administrative salaries, billion-dollar TV deals and corporate sponsorships.
I believe players should be paid, but through long-term benefits of value, including guaranteed four-year scholarships (big ups to the Pac-12 for putting this in place!), long-term health care for injuries such as concussions, and opportunities for continuing education. It would also be great if athletes could get some help with summer housing. Summer workouts are an un-mandatory mandatory, and Palo Alto area rents certainly aren't going down. In fact, they are the highest rents in the entire country. I believe professors benefit from this [help], and there is plenty of housing on campus to go around during the summer. Again, this would probably violate the NCAA's draconian rule book.
And how about players whose parents can't afford to travel to the home games? We had a few guys from Hawaii who faced a real struggle to get their families over to see a game in person. It's ironic that in some cases, more than 55,000 fans will see them play in person, but not their own families. Too expensive? I'm sure there are plenty of willing fans who would love to host a player's family for a weekend. Perhaps an airline or two would take an interest in such a "feel good" story.
Talk of roving bands of player/mercenaries is dramatized. But the fact is that big-time college sports are a job. Stanford was the best deal for me, and I took it. I looked at the awful graduation rates at many programs and opted for the best degree I could get. It has proven to be invaluable. But during my time at Stanford, I was absolutely treated as an employee.
I've been in the career world for over 12 years now and haven't experienced a commitment as stringent as my college athletic career. Aside from the nonstop football activities that clearly violated the 20-hour maximum rule, our coaching staff at the time would demand, yell at and at times embarrass the players into better performance. "Earn your scholarship" was a commonly used phrase. During a two-day camp, we were woken up at 6 a.m. with a foghorn, and nightly bed checks were routine. Would that fly in the corporate world?
Ever get hurt at work? By the time my senior class graduated, 12 of 25 guys had some form of surgery to repair a football-related injury. Stanford graciously paid for the surgeries to get us back on the field, but long-term coverage is nonexistent. I luckily wasn't hurt badly enough to warrant a surgery, but I suffered a serious concussion, the impact of which is yet to be determined. Three herniated discs in my spine and lingering knee issues are ongoing problems that I've suffered from, even as I sit writing this paragraph.
That's all part of the game, but it would be nice to have some help with the consequences once it's over. Particularly with the concussion issues. Vanderbilt created a concussion clinic in 2011, and I wonder why Stanford hasn't done the same. Last time I checked, we have one of the best medical centers in the world. Sure would be great to apply some of the brainpower and innovation to a potentially devastating consequence of the game.
All things aside, collegiate athletics are in the midst of some big changes, and I strongly encourage our institution to chart the course to better waters, rather than jump ship.
Ben Garrison, '01
Chattanooga, Tennessee
Editor's note: Stanford's Sports Medicine Center treats all student-athletes' injuries and illnesses, including concussion.
After reading your "Game Changer" cover story (September/October), several questions occurred to me.
Why should Division I football and men's basketball athletes (revenue-generating athletes) be compelled to fund non-revenue sports to their own detriment?
To President Hennessy, why not employ the university technology transfer commercial model for revenue-generating athletes? It has been successfully used for other students. And what of the intellectual exploration grants reserved for select students with no apparent restrictions?
To authors Mike Antonucci and Kevin Cool and the other editors of Stanford, surely you aren't implying that there are no revenue-generating athletes at Stanford who feel exploited by the current system. Are you aware that Stanford athletes worked on the Northwestern Union action? For the record, there are scores of former and current athletes that disagree with the sentiment promoted by Hennessy, Muir and Shaw. Did you try to contact or interview any of them? Did you reach out to Stanford faculty members Roger Noll, George Foster (GSB) or William Gould (Law School) for their perspective? Did you interview Stanford alum Andy Schwartz, '76? All of these individuals are widely regarded as experts in this particular subject and could have added much needed objective context to the discussion. Their omission undermines the journalistic integrity of this piece.
I note that in this very same edition, President Hennessy's column boasts about Stanford's legacy of entrepreneurial spirit, optimism and empathy. One wonders if anyone else finds these values strangely at odds with the approach articulated by Stanford's leadership in the feature article. The current system is clearly exploitative and well down the path toward being declared an illegal cartel.
The good news is there is substantial opportunity for Stanford to make a "contribution to a better [sports] world," assuming it is willing to exercise the ideals ironically espoused by President Hennessy in his column. We certainly can engage these challenging issues in a more forthright and constructive manner. I hope that our leaders will choose to be proactive and lead the charge to meaningful NCAA reform. That is the Stanford that I have loved for so many years.
Keith Sparks, '84
Missouri City, Texas
An enduring memory for many Stanford alums is morning coffee on the Tresidder terrace. It was not uncommon to see distinguished professors and fellow students reading about our latest Nobel Prize winner, or catching up on the Chronicle Sporting Green, or chuckling over the latest antics of the Incomparable Leland Stanford Junior University Marching Band. Excellence was celebrated and enjoyed wherever it was found—in the lab, classroom and athletic fields.
It was 1976, and I was a fresh new doctoral student studying formal organizations—what they stood for and how well they went about their work. A number of my advisers, including John Nixon in education and W.R. Scott in sociology, suggested that I look at the Stanford football team. They had a new coach who was innovative and doing the job differently than other teams in the Pac-8. With the innocence of youth I gave the football office a call that September evening expecting a message machine. Instead, I was shocked by Coach Bill Walsh himself. "Football office," he said. My intellectual reply: "Uh, my advisers told me I should talk with you about the team." Coach Walsh responded, "Can you be at my office tomorrow at 6 a.m.?"
That was my introduction to the Stanford Way. Succeed by engaging the problem, working hard, no pretense, no excuses, work smarter than the competition. But like the university as a whole, sports at Stanford was about much more than just winning. At their best, both American colleges and sports encapsulate the values of commitment to causes bigger than oneself. At their worst, college sports can breed selfishness and celebrate hubris. At their best, sports can present grace under pressure, public displays of self-sacrifice, optimism in the face of long odds, and can habituate the practice of believing in oneself and one's teammates.
Our American colleges are unique because they are more than intellectual. At their best, American colleges are places where students can see and practice the power of intellect combined with energy and spirit as well as the transformative power of working for something more important than oneself. "Game Changer" raises questions as relevant today as they were in 1978. What purpose has sport in American colleges and what should be their place at Stanford? As American higher education has become increasingly dominated by business concerns, what are the value propositions that must guide what higher education institutions stand for? What does it mean to lead American higher education when it is faced with the seductive forces of ESPN and Fox Sports, networks waving fistfuls of money before college leaders?
In that same issue, President Hennessy references last year's Commencement speech by Bill and Melinda Gates, where they characterize the "Stanford spirit" this way: " . . . it's the optimism. There's an infectious feeling here that innovation can solve almost every problem." But, as they noted, "If we have optimism, but we don't have empathy—then it doesn't matter how much we master the secrets of science, we're not really solving problems; we're just working on puzzles."
In the '70s, Bill Walsh solved the problem of how to win football games without massive numbers of players who didn't care a whit about anything more than "four yards and a cloud of dust." The "West Coast offense" remains the standard, and it was a solution true to the Stanford Way. There are some other schools that win at the highest level in sports and which, for the most part, have remained true to the academic ethic. Duke, Notre Dame, Vanderbilt have graduated stars into the professional ranks. Harvard has given the sports world Linsanity and a starting quarterback in the NFL.
Clearly, Stanford is at the forefront of technology. Yet as the bridge between the future and our history, the place where the spirit and the soul meet, universities and colleges need to lead generations forward guided by values that will improve the society to which we are all responsible. To paraphrase the Gateses, winning without values, without empathy and compassion, isn't solving any problems. Four yards and a cloud of dust will not further higher education. I know Stanford will continue to lead the way.
Don Chu, PhD '78
Carlsbad, California
Stanford, Yale and other universities faced with the seemingly murky "student-athlete" problem would do well to consult with their classics and history departments for clarification. In ancient times, any scholar or philosopher king was not deemed fully educated without athletic training. (See Plato's Republic, Book III; Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching.) Indeed, Confucius went so far as to opine in his Analects that a person could not be deemed virtuous without both academic and athletic skills/training.
In East Asia, physical fitness and training were for the sole purpose of improving the mind by housing it in a healthy body. In the Western world, the virtue of fitness involved an additional element: winning! After all, Plato was an Olympic-class wrestler as well as a world-class philosopher. It is this important distinction that creates a student-athlete problem in the West, but not in the East.
Moving up to the 19th century, we hear the Duke of Wellington postulating that Waterloo was won on the playing fields of Eton. More recently, the International Olympic Committee (1971) and later the U.S. Government (1978) abolished the prohibition against professional athletes participating in the Games, because countries that paid their athletes won more medals. The sublime joy of competition must be subordinate to the rushing ecstasy of winning. The result is that now even "amateurs" (aka: part-time professionals) are being paid or otherwise sponsored for their training and performance. Thus, since ancient times there has been nothing wrong with students also being athletes, and in modern times there is no longer any shame in amateur athletes being paid for their labors.
So what is left to debate? Your article says repeatedly that there are "some changes or reforms" relating to Stanford's athletic program that might lead to Stanford withdrawing from Division I competition. There are numerous policy changes and reforms discussed, but nowhere are we informed as to which of these form the "line over which President Hennessy will not cross." Presumably Stanford has no objection to some of the reforms or policies mentioned, such as testing/diagnostics for current and former athletes or ensuring that a student-athlete leaves Stanford with a degree and not just broken bones or permanent brain damage.
Perhaps this lack of specificity is due to the absence of a coherent statement of the underlying issues? Reading between the lines, the real issue bothering President Hennessy and other university presidents may be that there is an irreconcilable conflict between simultaneously maintaining the "primacy of the academic role for student-athletes" and a sports program that can be relied on to generate enormous income and generous alumni donations only by fielding professional-level players. Included in this quandary are the recent NLRB and Federal Court decisions that classify student-athletes as professional gladiators who must be paid commensurate salaries and share in the advertising bonanza.
If this is the real issue (as it appears to be), then there is nothing to debate. The decision to treat students skilled in the violent arts of football and basketball differently than regular students was made long ago when Stanford and other universities granted their first athletic scholarships.
Debating now whether to pay student-athletes a little more money so that the university remains competitive in the income-generating arena is a waste of time. The only substantive issue is whether universities should provide any financial support to student athletes, not how much.
There are only two internally consistent resolutions of the real issue; pick one.
1) It is unethical for a place of higher learning to encourage a select group of students to spend more time training and playing than studying. Therefore, the university will no longer maintain a formal, heavily funded athletic department and will forgo the media revenue stream and sports-motivated alumni donations generated thereby. Along these same lines, the university will no longer accept government or private research funding for any projects that might result in ethically dubious scientific discoveries.
2) In order to maintain a sufficient income stream to pay for excellent professors and facilities in this very competitive, very real world, it is ethical for a university to pay a small minority of its students to voluntarily spend more time on athletics than academics. The greater good for the greater number.
James Luce
Peralada, Spain
Working on Water
I read with great interest Kate Galbraith's California drought article in the July/August edition ("Tapped Out?") and the ensuing letters ("Water Ways," September/October; "Water Solutions," November/December). There are many diverse opinions expressed, which makes me recall the old saying, "Whiskey's for drinking, water's for fighting."
A bright spot in both editions is the success of Irvine Ranch Water District's tiered pricing system, resulting in significant water conservation in Orange County, Calif. The IRWD ascending block rate pricing structure allows customers to decide for themselves how to use their water rather than it being dictated by the water purveyor. Efficient water usage is rewarded with a low water bill. But wasteful water use results in a very high water bill, which encourages customers to request a water audit to learn how to conserve water and receive lower bills in the future. Revenue generated by the program is used to fund water conservation programs and expand the water recycling system. IRWD is an industry leader in water management by implementing such innovative programs and projects.
There is also a Stanford connection to the success of IRWD. Stanford engineering alumni are involved in the design and construction of a large water recycling project which turns sewage into water used for landscape irrigation, industrial processes and toilet flushing in high-rise office buildings. The current recycling plant expansion includes many state-of-the-art treatment processes and increases the recycled water production rate from 18 million gallons per day to a total of 28 million gallons per day. These water conservation and recycling programs offset the need to pump more local groundwater or to import more water to Southern California.
Stanford engineers are also involved in the design and construction of the IRWD bio-solids treatment and energy recovery project that will convert sewage treatment residuals into fertilizer for local reuse and generate energy to run the water recycling plant.
As Stanford students, we studied together in hopes of one day saving the world from water problems. Maybe it's not the entire world, but today Stanford alumni are helping to solve California's water supply issues. And a good rainy season starting tomorrow will call for a united toast to the end of our drought.
Steve Malloy, MS '78
Principal Engineer, Irvine Ranch Water District
Irvine, California
Editor's note: A letter in the November/December issue ("Water Solutions") that was critical of previous letters ("Water Ways," September/October) accused several of those authors of ignorance. We aim to edit letters for civility but erred in this case and regret the lapse.
Managing War
Arguing a contrary thesis can open up insights formerly ignored or overlooked. Ian Morris's War! What Is It Good For? leads reviewer Francis Fukuyama to endorse the thesis of goodness/productiveness of war, at least until it bumps up against the latter's personal bias against use of state power to mitigate individual excesses ("On the Spoils of War," July/August).
But Morris (and others contemporaneously) is just indulging in a thought experiment in order to uncloak how complex institutions to limit future wars arise from war itself, sort of a positive feedback mechanism. What the thesis overlooks, however, is that war is the breakdown of goodness and cannot be good itself. The thesis also cannot distinguish among types of violence, equating a North Korea that ensures "peace" through violence against citizens and a North Korea that ensures "peace" with violence projected against external enemies.
There is a certain degree of the past predicting itself in the categories of "productive" and "unproductive" war, but what can the thesis provide usto anticipate the future course of conflict? Does one assume it is inevitable, even though its "unproductiveness" tends toward deadlier weapons and modes of fighting? We learn violent modes from one another through engagement in conflict and apply these modes to new conflicts. Since territory is finite, at some point war will cease or culminate.
Violence between groups predated states, found routinized outlets inside proto-states, perfected its application within and between states, and leads us now to the "management of savagery" in failed states. It may be more productive to experiment with modes of conflict management, such as the Obama strategy, which is attempting to dilute the responsibility for managing war by spreading it across coalitions of states. It is a crude baby step, but it is a beginning in the search for containment of war and the preservation of civilization in some form after a century of global violence. More such experiments need to be created, implemented and perfected.
Jean (Risvold) Rosenfeld, '61
Los Angeles, California
The following did not appear in the print version of Stanford.
A Worthy Concept
I am very pleased to see this piece of history come to the surface ("Keeping Secrets," November/December). Subjects like this need to be discussed; academics need support for the concept of pursuing knowledge for its own sake and not for one country. Thank you.
Laurie van Someren
Cambridge, England
