Making the Grade
Brian Inouye’s piece struck a chord because I felt exactly as he does when I was at Stanford (“Dimension Deficit Disorder,” Student Voice, May/June). I’d like to encourage him and even those “gunners” that getting into a good medical school takes more than just stellar grades. I entered Stanford in 1991 almost certain I would major in human biology and go to medical school. But by the end of my freshman year I had had enough of those annoying, grade-obsessed premeds and decided that I would major in my first love, English, and take my premed requirements along the way. I enjoyed my chemistry and biology classes, got A’s and B’s, and couldn’t seem to get a break in physics (C’s).
I went to Oxford for spring quarter junior year and stayed on for the summer to scoop ice cream and write my senior thesis. By graduation, Peace Corps assignment already in hand, I had sworn off medicine for good—why would I want to spend any more time with people who were so obsessed with grades and didn’t even seem to enjoy the actual learning? I went off to Southern Africa to teach, and when I returned, happy but penniless, I started looking for ways I could stay involved in international public health. Before long I was filing papers for an NGO in Boston, and soon enough I was traveling back and forth to our clinic in rural Haiti. And suddenly, surrounded by so many doctors who actually cared about social justice and were making it work, medicine reappeared on the horizon. I crammed for my MCAT, got a decent score, and then was on my way back to the West Coast to start medical school at UC-San Francisco. Seems that those science grades had much less of an impact on where I went to medical school than what I had done in the meantime. I’m now finishing up my first year of a pediatric residency at UC-Davis and have another project in the developing world in the works. All of which, I’d like to think, shows that you can be yourself, stick to your values, and still get into that coveted medical school, wherever that might be. And I think I had a lot more fun getting there.
Jennifer Singler, ’95
Sacramento, California
I am sorry to see Stanford beginning the slide into the lowest-denomination morass of the common press and television. I do not appreciate the publication of Brian Inouye’s article with the expletive undeleted. Sad to see the previously well-done magazine choosing to go down the tubes.
Bill O’Beirne, ’56
Coronado, California
Brian Inouye’s essay sent me deep into my files to retrieve a Stanford Daily column written in 1981 by Lisa Bernard, ’82, then an undergraduate majoring in biology. Reflecting on her impending trip to a Stanley H. Kaplan test center in New Jersey to prepare for the MCATs, Bernard wrote, “Equating knowledge with intelligence on the basis of test scores is a dangerous practice, yet a common one. . . . What this actually translates into is that the schools are using a student’s performance on a test to determine whether he would be a good doctor.” I had just recently been kicked out of business school after only a semester, and I kept her column because it resonated with me.
More than a quarter-century later, Inouye echoes her thoughts by asking, “Can a doctor with only smarts and a hint of OCD comfort a mother about her screaming infant? . . . Doesn’t it make sense then that we non-hardcore premeds could be good physicians even if we can’t fully explicate some test questions about evolutionary changes [of a wasp]?” The more things change, the more they stay the same. But Inouye can take heart—according to the SAA directory, Lisa is now a pediatrician in Los Altos.
Howard Baldwin, ’77
Sunnyvale, California
Wary of the West
The title of David M. Kennedy’s article (May/June) asks, “Can the West Lead Us to a Better Place?” The critical thinker in me immediately says: “You mean better than it? Better than California?—dry, overcrowded and stiflingly self-conscious?” He means the West could lead us to better behaviors, better conditions, better lives and better . . . politics. But how, when 70 column inches are consumed, does one complete a survey of the West’s pre- eminence at the dawn of America’s 21st century, without discussing its greatest 20th-century hero, Ronald Reagan? Not even the movement he represented? David Kennedy managed to do just that. He spent 20 of those column inches discussing the completion of the intercontinental railroad at Promontory Point, Utah, but none on Ronald Reagan.
Then he summarizes, “So what might West-dominated politics look like? The future is always opaque, but it’s reasonable to ask if it will be a politics of intolerance or inclusion” (I don’t need to wonder, then, if he’s for amnesty or strong borders), “sensitive to the economic and human realities of immigration and diversity and seeking reasonable ways to accommodate them.” (Assimilation or acculturation? Loyalty to the nation? Maybe later!) And he continues: “Will it be a politics of further resource exploitation, or one that will lift environmental issues, especially respecting land use, water supply and sustainable mining, timbering and fishing practices, to the forefront of the national agenda?” I don’t have to wonder where he is on the environment, capitalism or notions of private property, either, or even global warming!
The piece is used to announce the establishment of the Bill Lane Center for the Study of the North American West and Kennedy’s installation as its founding co-director. Stanford University, due to its leftist politics, has long looked askance, or with outright shame, on its premier institute, the Hoover Institution of War, Revolution and Peace. Now it has within its clutches a leftist antidote.
Since 9-11, California has squirmed to recapture the nation’s attention. That terrible day and its consequences served to make California’s troubles and conflicts seem small. Who cared how dirty the movies were? Who cared about their horrific screened fictions, when reality, on that nightmarish day, was more shocking than their fabrications? Who cared how low the morals of San Francisco became? Who cared how completely the conquering Hispanic invaders recaptured California’s educational apparatus and, by extension, its culture? The war on terror diverted our attention, dare I say it, to more important things.
It appears now, however, that an attempt is being mounted for a new perspective on California—as the answer to some of America’s problems, rather than as part of the problems themselves. What a long, strange trip California’s history has been since its population began to mount with the Gold Rush in 1849. A discriminating public should beware Californians’ claims to ascendancy and their offered solutions to America’s problems.
James M. Edwards, ’78
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Bassett’s Anatomy
Your article “More than Skin-deep” (Farm Report, May/June) brought a flood of memories of my year in the anatomy lab beginning in the fall of 1951. Professor Bassett was very much a handsome and quiet presence guiding us through this intensive course of dissection, which launched our medical education. On rare occasions we were able to view some of his work in progress, which made our efforts appear so inferior by comparison. Having seen David Bassett in his prime and knowing the care and pride he took with his work, I agree with the curator of the collection, Dr. Robert Chase, that he would be pleased to see the collection continues to have value.
Charles Monell, ’52, MD ’55
Rancho Mirage, California
Welcome Support
I was both pleased and pleasantly surprised by the Farm Report story on new support for transgender students (“A Safe Crossing,” May/June). I feel this kind of affirmation is essential not only to lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer-identified (LGBTG) students, but to their straight or questioning classmates who can benefit from exposure to lifestyles different from their own. I hope Stanford faculty and staff who remain closeted can follow the example of these pioneering students and step out into the light of day. Now if only the Alumni Association could find the courage to put a story about LGBTG life on campus on the cover of the magazine instead of tucked away on page 30.
Grant F. Sontag, ’78, MA ’78
Mountain View, California
Farm Bill
In his charming End Note (“Mom’s Mortgage, My Self,” May/June) Christopher J. Kemper thanks Stanford in advance for providing a financial aid structure that could allow his 1-year-old to attend the Farm when her time comes. Kemper closes his column by noting he’s “been wildly successful at keeping my assets typical.”
Would now be a good time for Stanford to install financial literacy as a mandatory component of our undergraduate curriculum?
David Altschul, MA ’76
Berkeley, California
More Thoughts on Freedom
My goodness. What a splendid selection of thoughtful and impassioned letters to the editor in response to Donald Rumsfield’s appointment as distinguished visiting fellow at the Hoover Institution (“On Freedom,” May/June). He joins the likes of Edwin Meese, who concealed criminal evidence while Nixon’s attorney general, and Dr. Frederick Seitz, who fraudulently represented himself as a climatologist against global warming. I would respectfully suggest that the issue goes beyond the questionable appointments, of which there will no doubt be more, to the close association of the Hoover Institution with Stanford. Indeed, Hoover is invariably identified with Stanford by the media. The time has come to give Hoover its independence and move it off campus where its bias will no longer stain the integrity of our great University. And remove the Stanford name and the famous Stanford tower from the Hoover logo. Years ago, the Stanford Research Institute was given its independence as SRI International. The time has come to do likewise with the Hoover Institution.
Dean Shupe, MS ’61
Florence, Kentucky
The perversion of academic freedom [that prompted] Rick Blumsack’s comments begging for better standards was illustrated by the professorial mewling of Hubert Marshall, John Manley and John Gates in the May/June letters.
Thank you, Stanford, for recognizing the eminent and distinguished Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice. Their determination for American security underscores the higher standards that support academic freedom.
Robert Evers, MBA ’58
Chevy Chase, Maryland
In defending better academic standards and, by implication, criticizing Stanford, Rick Blumsack puts an unspecified but outrageous claim into the mouth of an unnamed professor, an extreme ideologue, whose right to assert ideas devoid of logic and evidence is defended by anonymous allies with a penchant for smearing opponents as McCarthyites.
It would have been more in keeping with the academic standards Blumsack holds dear for him to name at least one such ideologue and give an example of a statement empty of logic and evidence, so the important issue he raises could be intelligently discussed. The offender, if one could be found, would then have a chance to defend himself or herself, a fundamental right of all persons in and out of academia. As it is, the vacuity of the argument comes perilously close to the tactics Blumsack deplores in others.
John F. Manley
Professor of Political Science, Emeritus
Westport, Connecticut
Donald Rumsfeld and Condoleezza Rice have invested many years serving their country. They deserve better than the condescending vitriol of these liberals, who are apparently unconcerned with their own lack of civility and evidence. Epithets such as “bloody hands,” “war criminal,” “moral turpitude” and other such drivel are bandied about with such ease that you could substitute “Hitler” or “Stalin” in their diatribe and never blink an eye. For these elites to put Rumsfeld and Rice in the same company with these fiends of the past is shameful.
Regarding an “illegal war,” what was the significance of the countless U.N. resolutions? In addition, after a horrific attack on our homeland, the president as commander-in-chief needs no permission from any organization or country to do whatever is necessary to protect this nation. Regarding “the use of torture and other forms of abuse to extract information from prisoners,” I assume the reference is to waterboarding. In the use of coercive interrogation, I draw the line at the infliction of permanent physical injury, which waterboarding is not.
To accuse Rumsfeld and Rice of mismanagement is one thing, but to question their integrity and moral fitness because they don’t subscribe to your own political and social persuasion is the height of transparent snobbery. I challenge these elites to present their evidence for the alleged war crimes and lies of these two individuals, and by that I don’t mean the repetitious mantra foisted on the American public on a daily basis by the mostly liberal media.
Robert Griffin, ’63, MS ’64
Loomis, California
Smoke and Ivy
What if a nongovernmental organization—one that operates through a secure worldwide network, remains independent of internationally recognized governments, capitalizes on Third World nations to grow in size and scope, and kills and seriously injures thousands of Americans each year to promote its agenda—extended an offer to Stanford to provide funding for research on its practices with the underlying goal of furthering of its deadly agenda? If this were a terrorist organization (such as an al-Qaida), Stanford would most certainly refuse. But if this nongovernmental organization were a tobacco company, the answer apparently is quite different, given the Faculty Senate rejection of the proposal to ban research funding from tobacco companies (“Ties That Bind,” March/April).
Though not terrorists in the traditional sense, tobacco companies do inflict an indescribable terror on more than 400,000 Americans each year who die prematurely from smoking and secondhand smoke exposure, not to mention a parallel terror inflicted upon the millions of their American family members who are forced to helplessly watch their loved ones die such a tragic, pain-filled, premature death. Having lost a father to smoking and a mother to secondhand smoke, I can personally testify to this terror—it is real, it is painful beyond words, and it leaves a hole in your life that never disappears.
Those opposing the ban on tobacco research funding cite the dangers of proceeding down a so-called slippery slope that would lead to a devastating reduction of academic freedom. I contend that the real slippery slope will be when we begin to trust that the tobacco industry is seeking the truth in any tobacco-related research, since this industry’s sole motive is profit—and if the truth hurts the profit, the truth must be false . . . and the false must be true. Besides, does Stanford really want to be associated with an industry whose profit is derived solely through addicting new smokers to replace the old ones as they die? To me, the faint, wheezing whispers of nicotine enslavement uttered by the near-dead in the cancer wards of Stanford Hospital tend to drown out the thunderous, pompous cries of “academic freedom” shouted by the few, surprisingly unenlightened faculty in the sandstone halls of Stanford University.
In closing, I found it amusing that the cover illustration of the chiseled bust wrapped in ivy with the final green leaf covering its mouth—alleging the muzzling of free speech—may in fact be showing this solitary bust (sans limbs) working in cooperation with his lone pal, the ivy, to do all he can to protect himself from inhaling both secondhand smoke and the smoke being blown by some within academia.
Donald A. Bentley, MS ’82
La Puente, California
Study Abroad
Thanks for your recent article on the first 50 years of the Stanford Overseas Studies Program (“A Whole New World,” March/April). That program has evolved greatly since 1958, as various professors have experimented with innovations aimed at giving our students better opportunities for deep transcultural learning.
I taught at Stanford in Vienna for two quarters in 1981-82, and it proved to be one of the peak experiences of my 26-year Stanford career—both as teacher and as researcher. As a professor of anthropology and education who taught about transcultural learning on the home campus, I naturally wanted to apply my pedagogical ideas in Austria. So, during my second quarter in Vienna, I offered a research practicum in which my students and I would do field research together and then jointly co-author a book that would be a genuinely useful contribution to Austrian life. Seven Stanford undergraduates joined the practicum, as did three graduate students from the University of Vienna.
I taught my students how to use a one-on-one, loosely structured interviewing method that I had devised, Ethnographic Futures Research. We used this method to interview 32 Austrian national leaders about their optimistic and pessimistic scenarios for the future of Austrian society, specifically about how the then-new “microelectronic revolution” could, would and should impact the lives of the Austrian people—by a “horizon date” of 2005.
The resulting book, Austria 2005: Projected Sociocultural Effects of the Microelectronic Revolution, was published in 1983, in German and English. Its publication was a media event. I was flown to Austria, received by the chancellor of the republic and interviewed on national television.
Our book was widely reported and well reviewed. My students thus had the confidence-building experience of becoming published authors at a young age, and we all had the authentic satisfaction of “giving something back” to Austria, in return for all that Austria had given to us.
Fast forward to 2005, when that year slipped out of the future and into the present. I flew to Austria and contacted my good friend State Secretary Dr. Ernst Eugen Veselsky, a former Austrian cabinet member and founding president of the Austrian Association for Future Policies, whose intellectual and practical help had been indispensable to us in producing the 1983 book. “Erni,” founding president of Austrian Friends of Stanford, agreed to organize and edit a sequel that would “look back and learn, look forward and apply.”
Of the 32 national leaders we had interviewed in 1982, 28 were still alive in 2006. This time, we invited them to be our co-authors. Eleven agreed; many others pleaded ill health. We balanced these 11 by adding nine younger leaders, mostly with specialties involving technological forecasting, to form our writing team of 20, a virtual miniature “Who’s Who” of Austrian leadership. I confined my role to that of methodological adviser.
The result was the 2006 publication, in German and English, of The Future of Austria: Opportunities and Dangers in the Age of Nanotechnology, which looked to a new horizon date of 2025. Once again, the public unveiling was done with suitable ceremony and celebration.
Suffice it to say here that the prevailing attitude of our 1983 interviewees was impressively optimistic, while that of our 2006 co-authors was definitely pessimistic. The complete English and German texts of the 1983 book, and the complete English text of the 2006 book, are downloadable at www.stanford.edu/~rbtextor/. The 1983 book also contains a detailed account of the Ethnographic Futures Research methodology we used.
It has been 21 years since the Stanford in Austria program was terminated. Even so, the 2006 experience suggests that there are still Austrian leaders who remember and value the Stanford program, and who appreciate the spirit behind our two books. And it is also noteworthy that, back on the home campus, the annual Viennese Ball is still alive and well.
Our seven 1983 undergraduate co-authors were Daniel R. Coran, ’84, Jim DeLaHunt, ’84, Kiplund R. Kolkmeier, ’84, Hans D. Logie, ’83, James A. Mack, ’83, the late Kevin R. Porter, ’83, and Lisa M. Smith, ’83, MA ’88, MD ’89. The late Austria-born Stanford professor of political science, Kurt Steiner, served as consultant for the 1983 book. The translator of both books was Hedwig D. “Hedi” Thimig, who was for some years the associate director (and guiding spirit) of Stanford in Vienna, and whom hundreds of Stanford alumni will remember fondly.
Robert B. Textor
Professor of Anthropology, Emeritus
Portland, Oregon
The article on Stanford in the world created joy and sadness at the same time. I was one of the last two resident assistants at the program in Tours before Stanford closed it and Carnegie Mellon took over. We were told that Stanford was focusing on its program in Oxford.
A lot of memories are still shared by many of us. Playing baseball with local teams (yes, the level is low), visiting the D-Day beaches as a field trip (always very emotional). Stanford students always came across as extremely well educated and respectful of the locals. Our job in supporting them was very easy.
For your information, the original building on the Loire River is still referred to by the locals as the Stanford building, even after it became a building of the University of Tours and then private apartments.
Now I live in the Bay Area next to the campus and enjoy the cultural events there; it helps me understand the major differences students were facing when abroad. So thank you for the memories, and thanks to Stanford for the footprint of excellence you left in my hometown.
Sebastien Taveau
Redwood City, California
I was dismayed to see the reproduction, without any editorial note of blame, of the photograph showing the “Beat Cal” banner hung from the top of the Tower of Pisa—and very skillfully attached (before the irate authorities arrived) so that the banner neatly followed the lean of the Tower. All you say is that “Stanford had arrived in Italy.” Since I was in Italy at that time, I can attest to the reaction of the Pisani. How many at Stanford would shrink (and how many would shrug) to see Italy respond with a banner draped from the Statue of Liberty proclaiming “Forza Juventus!”?
David Wingeate Pike, PhD ’68
Paris, France
What Cost No-Kill?
I couldn’t help but notice your article about Nathan Winograd (“Pet’s Best Friend,” Planet Cardinal, March/April). During my 12 years in animal sheltering, five of those as a shelter veterinarian, I have worked in shelters both large and small, no-kill and open admission.
Winograd’s no-kill philosophy has decreased euthanasia rates, but at what cost to the animals? How about measuring the extra months or years that animals are held in shelters awaiting homes, or even worse, those that die when staff avoid euthanizing animals in order to decrease euthanasia statistics? Increased suffering due to no-kill pressure is not easy to measure but clearly does result. In some no-kill shelters, including those “transformed” by Winograd, sick, injured or aggressive animals are kept alive indefinitely without hope for adoption due to the pressure to avoid euthanasia.
One of the most extreme cases occurred at the Lied Animal Shelter in Las Vegas, Nev., where pressure to decrease euthanasia resulted in holding animals until thousands died from an outbreak of multiple infectious diseases. Shelter personnel admitted that they were “trying to save every animal they could.”
Winograd “remains adamant that shelter philosophy is the main problem.” At the large open-admission municipal animal shelter where I am a shelter veterinarian, I have seen the decrease in shelter intake that occurs with high-volume spay/neuter efforts. Simply refusing to euthanize animals or placing all our eggs in the adoption basket oversimplifies a complex problem. And placing the responsibility for the euthanasia of unwanted animals on those of us who spend our lives caring for them does little to unite members of the sheltering community and foster collaboration. If we want to make a difference for shelter animals, then we need to work together instead of blaming each other for the problem.
Kathy Tyson, ’97
Redwood City, California
Digital Worries
Matt Jockers suggests that the digitization of books due partly to the soon-to-be demolished Meyer Library may not answer all the needs of future patrons (“The Way We Read Now,” March/April). He is skeptical about the inherent lack of specificity in the online search process.
Referring to Melville’s Moby Dick quotations that are also present in other books, he writes that finding exactly what you want would be “akin to macroeconomics,” or what he calls “literary macroanalysis” that “does not concern itself with single books but rather with an entire ‘economy’ of texts.” His concern is unwarranted because online searching is anything but indiscriminate. By choosing the precise words or exact quotes with “Melville’s Moby Dick” as key words, one can go directly to what is wanted by successive clicks. Online searching is necessarily precise and focused.
Helen Brooks cites the advantages of the physical space the traditional library provides to allow browsing, meeting other people and sharing ideas. The value of open stacks is always a truism. At the same time, one can make productive use of the digitized data, reaching far beyond the immediate library resources, which in turn often brings you back to the present facility with newly discovered references. It is synergistic. Ultimately, Google’s digitization of the world’s books will bring the literary world even closer.
Tom Jenkins
Centennial, Colorado
Jam Today?
Provost John Etchemendy’s column on Stanford’s financing (“Behind the Bottom Line,” President’s Column, March/April) skirts an issue that is central for Stanford’s stakeholders. He says Stanford’s policy is to budget according to a smoothed-out stream of real income from financial reserves, so that real spending can be kept constant and provide equitable treatment of students today and of the next generation.
The column doesn’t get to the “bottom line,” however: have real financial reserves risen, or have they been held constant? My impression is that real reserves have grown very substantially since my days 40 years ago, as Stanford has benefited from increased national wealth generally and from its well- deserved leading position in helping to generate that wealth.
Constantly raising financial reserves relative to real spending needs gives rise to awkward implications. Once an endowment starts to grow, it is unstable: the ratio of the endowment to operating budget will tend to grow indefinitely because less and less of net income is needed for operating costs. This dynamic will be accelerated by new giving. The results are far from equitable.
More should be spent from today’s resources on today’s students than tomorrow’s, because it is reasonable to project that future students will be wealthier and that Stanford will draw funding from a bigger pool. (This seems to be occurring already. The comparison between life in Cedro Hall in 1967-68—especially the food service—and the experience of my nephew Davey, who graduated last year, is only a sample of one, but it is suggestive.) As Etchemendy states, evening out resource availability between the wealthy universities like Stanford and other universities like the University of California system would be both more equitable and more productive for American society.
Constantly growing financial reserves has another implication. Etchemendy explains how a gift for a professorship amounts to the same thing as a gift for a student scholarship. The same principle of fungibility implies that any new gift to Stanford will wind up increasing Stanford’s “marginal” use of funds, which is to add them to reserves. In the case where reserves are growing continuously, a new gift and its income will never be spent on anything. Ever.
There are several changes Stanford and its stakeholders should consider. First, set a reasonable long-term target for Stanford’s endowment, to ensure that it is not simply growing unproductively without limit. Second, all fresh gifts to Stanford should probably be programmed so that their capital is spent over an appropriate period of time: 20 years comes to mind, corresponding to a form of the 5 percent rule. This would allow sustained institutional initiatives to go forward but would also require Stanford to return to the market after 10 years or so, to renew its financing on the basis of its achievements. Besides putting gifts to real use, this rule would also create the “financial accountability” Etchemendy endorses.
Third, Stanford should respond further to the broad public perception that financial reserves of some universities have already grown too large. Unfortunately, Stanford’s initial reaction, the announcement last February of a $21 million annual increase in financial aid, arrived on the day after a press release showing that Stanford was the leading university fund-raiser last year, with $832 million in fresh gifts. A reasonable observer might conclude that Stanford had more to do to “give back.” Etchemendy’s column also asks at one point, “But could we have spent more?”
With all the investments Stanford has already made on a campus that old grads like me scarcely recognize anymore, it’s not obvious what to spend on. Etchemendy gives as one example “a program in Islamic studies,” no doubt because it appeals to an ongoing national interest.
There is a great deal more to the Arabic-speaking world than Islam. Countries with Muslim majorities are a part of the real world with all the elements of life that we’re used to at home. Arabic-speaking countries’ universities, however, simply do not contribute as much to socioeconomic development as they should.
Many faculties in the region’s universities would like to change this situation. The opportunities for American universities to enter into partnerships are practically limitless in all areas: business management, law, medicine, science, agriculture, engineering, history and social science, and (why not?) Islamic studies.
Stanford has recently become associated with plans for the new King Abdullah University of Science and Technology in Saudi Arabia and with Goldman Sachs’s “10,000 Women” initiative for business management education, mainly for women in emerging-market countries. These, however, are mainly “fee for service” engagements; they will mainly expand the customer base of Stanford’s normal operations.
Stanford could make real investments in partnerships with the most important institutions of higher learning and research in the Arabic-speaking world. They are still found in countries like Morocco, Egypt and Lebanon, despite the recent initiatives in wealthy oil countries. Stanford financing could invest in infrastructure, computers, libraries and faculty recruitment for joint programs. The leadership created by institutions strengthened through these partnerships could have a transforming effect in their home countries. Stanford’s stakeholders could encourage the University by offering gifts conditioned on matching from Stanford’s reserves for investments of this type.
Partnerships like these would not be academically prestigious in terms of publications. They would definitely not be “business as usual” back in Palo Alto. What they would do is to expand education services using resources that Stanford is one of the few universities able to wield. They would help catalyze a rebirth of optimism about the future of the world we live in, and give Stanford a wider base in that world. They would reposition Stanford from being criticized for sitting on its reserves to being seen as a leader in public service for the national interest.
Joe Ryan, ’71
Cairo, Egypt
The following letters did not appear in the print edition of Stanford.
Rockets and ‘Racism’
James P. Hodges Jr. appears to be unaware that the unremitting rocket attacks by Palestinians from Gaza on the Israeli town of Sderot are launched from locations in the midst of houses with women and children (“A Letter Disappoints,” Letters to the Editor, May/June). This ensures that any Israeli retaliation by weapons may kill Palestinian women and children and destroy houses. The gentler methods of retaliation by the Israelis against these rocket attacks, such as restricting their travel and reducing their electric supply, can also readily be stopped by the Palestinians themselves by quitting their rocket attacks against Israel.
Since Palestinians and Jews are of the same race (they are both Semites), it is not clear how derogatory remarks or actions of one of these groups against the other can be called racism. Since Hodges got a baccalaureate degree in political science at Stanford, perhaps he could have been clearer on this subject.
Arthur A. Ezra, PhD ’58
Huntington Station, New York
In a further response to [letters regarding] Pamela Olson’s “Postcard from Palestine” (Class Notes, January/February), I would like to temper Barry Cooper’s prose while pointing out what it seems James Hodges overlooks in his accusations of the former’s “outright racism.”
I have exchanged friendly e-mails with Pamela, both of us being Columbae House veterans (she a “squatter” in 2002-03, I a resident from 1973 to 1976), and I am sure her presentation of the warm and kind people she lived with in Ramallah is ingenuous. So too, however, is Cooper’s perspective. As a Columbaean, I try to promote social change through nonviolence as best I can, when I can. That’s the catch; our lives here are always in the shadow, often in the midst of, violence. I agree that many, probably most Palestinians are “normal folks just like us,” as Hodges writes. Unfortunately, however, some of them are terrorists; it only takes a few, as even Americans now realize. Cooper and I live under that threat, always, and so our lives share a reality that Hodges does not seem to comprehend.
I cannot afford not to be wary of all Palestinians. A few years back the bus I’d ridden to the university where I teach (in Israel proper) was blown up by a young Palestinian seconds after I had hurried off; not everyone was as lucky as I was. Somewhat later my daughter’s bus stop to her university studies was blown up; luckily, she was not among the victims. Again, others were not so lucky. And so on, and on, and on, before, since, and in-between. I do not claim that the violence is only on one side, but neither can, or should, Hodges. We all, I am sure, learned much at Stanford, for which we are grateful. Our lives and studies since have continued to teach us, however. The Arab and Middle Eastern mentality and norms that we deal with are not those of the Farm, or of Atlanta. And though my world is full of wonderful people, both Arabs and Jews, it is a world at war.
We do not have peace here in our corner of the world, and thus our reality is, in fact, “dangerous” and “threatening”; this is not an illusion or “diatribe,” as Hodges contends. I cannot assume that all Palestinians are “loving, good, kind people,” since those who are not are a real danger not only to my country but to my family’s personal safety and lives. Yes, Palestinians here have a difficult life. So do Israelis. Such is the nature of war. While you are “humanizing” one side of this conflict, Mr. Hodges, please don’t forget to humanize us all. This is my postcard from 32 years in Israel.
Michal Michelson, ’76
Raanana, Israel
James P. Hodges Jr. decries and demeans the decision of the “snookered” editors to publish the letter of Barry Cooper in March/April (“Middle Eastern Life and Death”). Then instead of addressing the considerable merits of Cooper’s case, Hodges resorts to an ad hominem attack, asserting that “Cooper learned very little from his Stanford education.” Hodges does not know what Cooper learned.
Hodges falsely claims that the Palestinians are “loving, good, kind people . . . just like us.” Just like us! I don’t think so. Suicide bombing/murder is celebrated among the Palestinians, not among Americans and not among Israelis. The Charter of Hamas quotes the verse of Muhammad in which “the Jews hide behind rocks and trees, which will cry: O Muslim! There is a Jew hiding behind me, come on and kill him!” The adherents of Hamas promote this position. The Palestinians promote this position and voted terrorist Hamas into power. There is no Israeli document comparable to this.
Then Hodges denounces Israel for depriving Palestinians of electricity, of ability to travel or work, etc. It is the Palestinian attacks that knocked out the Israeli power plant that supplied Gaza, but Hodges blames Israelis, who foolishly, in my view, restored power to Gaza, thereby enhancing the ability of the Palestinians to continue their murderous attacks against Israeli cities. Let us not forget that during WWII, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem went to Hitler’s Germany to support “the final solution” and to raise Waffen SS divisions in Muslim Bosnia. Throughout the Arab world, support went to Nazi Germany. Little has changed. The Muslim ethos remains totalitarian. Debate is not allowed. Hodges might like that.
Hodges accuses Cooper of racism, a favorite epithet of Muslims and Muslim sympathizers. How many Arabs live in Israel? Over a million. How many Jews are allowed to live in Gaza? None. Prima facie, which group is racist? Near death, Muhammad banned Jews and Christians forever from the Arabian Peninsula. The West has not banned Muslims. Maybe it should, to curtail fifth-column danger. Remember 9-11! So who are the racists? Jews/Christians on one side or Palestinians/Muslims on the other side? The answer is obvious.
David Paslin, ’62
Oakland, California
Full Disclosure
Your article on academic freedom and sponsorship (“Ties That Bind,” March/April) omits a necessary requirement of ethics. Articles and reports, published or unpublished, must contain a complete listing of the sponsors that supported the work.
Charles W. McCutchen
Bethesda, Maryland
Postwar Understanding
I read with interest “A Whole New World” (March/April). Prior to 1958 I married one of the earlier trailblazers. Carolyn Rau, a junior, returned from Europe in the spring of 1954. She had left Stanford in time to attend the University of Geneva from February 1953 until January 1954. She regales me with stories of sailing up the fjords of Norway in the very small mail packet boat, sailing on the Zuider Zee in Holland and skiing in the Alps. (I think we still have her climbing skins somewhere.)
We were both juniors when we first met during summer quarter 1954 in the course American History to 1789. I had entered from the service and was 27; Carolyn 22. Carolyn continued her studies through the end of winter quarter 1956. She never did graduate as your “pioneers” did. Some of the credits issued by the University of Geneva were not transferable, as I understand it; she was therefore one or two credits shy. I’ve often thought there should be consideration given to the gumption exhibited in broadening her education base and expanding her appreciation of other cultures.
Paul Merrill, ’55
Belmont, California
Green Costs
At the risk of further escalating utensil wars, I’m with Dan Devor, ’51 (“Mercury Rising,” Letters to the Editor, March/April). I guess I’d like to see some hard evidence of the total societal costs for using the plastic stuff, rather than what seems to be an editorial from Earth First! Bear in mind, the compostable utensils are three times as much as the plastic stuff. Yeah, call me a curmudgeon.
Dick Wharton, ’53
Tucson, Arizona
Memory Lane
For the benefit of the one in five Stanford readers who expressed a desire for more items about Stanford history and traditions (“Looking for Answers,” First Impressions, November/December), I offer the following.
Whatever happened to:
- The Freshman “Bible,” a useful handbook for incoming students?
- The Pajamarino, in which all sophomores donned jammies, hiked to downtown Palo Alto and were treated to a free movie?
- The annual Back to the Farm Day/Convalescent Home Fundraiser?
- Dancing in the Nightery?
- Moleskins for sophomore men only?
- Springtime boating in Lake Lagunita?
- Big Game Gaieties in Mem Aud?
- Big Game Bonfire in a dry Lake Lagunita?
Unforgettable, too, are: poli sci professor Tom Barclay and his constant coterie of Socratic scholars on the history corner; economics professor Elmer D. Fagan and his Widgets; English professors Edith Mirrielies and Margery Bailey; nightcaps at Pierre and Andre’s L’Omelette; the many nascent romances budding over late night coffee in The Cellar I witnessed as a hasher. And all a mere 70 years ago!
Jack Lodato, ’41, MA ’59
San Andreas, California
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Or fax to (650) 725-8676; or send us an e-mail. You may also submit your letter online. Letters may be edited for length, clarity and civility. Please note that your letter may appear in print, online or both.
The reference to “a chartered Air France turboprop” in “A Whole New World” (March/April) was incorrect; there were no transatlantic turboprop flights in 1958. The plane was an Air France Super Constellation.
