Vol. 171: Universities in crisis?

Diversity, bias, antisemitism, and sex, oh my!

A new report from a committee of Yale professors addresses what it calls “a collapse of public trust in higher education,” especially among elite schools. The complaints are familiar: politically biased faculties, admission standards based on diversity rather than brains, skyrocketing tuition costs, rampant grade inflation, bureaucratic bloat, a general atmosphere of censoriousness as opposed to free discussion, and boards of directors dominated by barely educated billionaire buffoons.

The University of Pennsylvania, my alma matter, is currently contemplating “open expression” guidelines aimed at discouraging students from opening their mouths. Penn is also fighting demands from the Trump administration to hand over a list of Penn’s Jewish employees (for the Jews’ own good, of course. Or maybe the Trumpies need a minyan for a cabinet meeting). Meanwhile, the president of Ohio State resigned last month after he was found devoting maybe a little too much open expression to a woman who wasn’t his wife.

What is it with academics these days? Why can’t they keep their minds on their work and their pants zippered— like, say, politicians, corporate executives, and entertainers?

Mediocre deans

These developments are especially dismaying to me because I credit Penn for most of the good things in my life. I had many terrific professors and teachers there, some of whom (like Nancy Leach Sweeten and E. Digby Baltzell) became my friends in later life. I had an interdisciplinary major that was ideal for a potential journalist: American civilization, which taught me to judge other cultures (past and present) according to their values rather than my own. I wrote a column for the Daily Pennsylvanian, which landed me my first job. On the football team, I learned to deal with adversity, to function as part of a group, to push myself beyond my imagined limits, and to take and give criticism— all skills that served me well as a journalist and editor. Perhaps most important, at Penn I met and married my wife.

Of course, that was more than 60 years ago. And Penn wasn’t such a happy place then, either. At that time, Penn’s dramatically upgraded faculty and student body was supervised by mediocre deans committed to defending the status quo, especially concerning the treatment of women students.

So, is any of my experience still relevant today? Let me take a crack at it.

1. Grade inflation. According to the Yale report, 79% of grades given to Yale undergraduates in a recent academic year were an A or A-. That’s up from 10% in the alleged golden age of 1963, when I was an undergrad.

Seven years ago, I taught a course in biography at Drexel University’s Pennoni Honors College. I based the students’ grades on a combination of their papers and their class participation. Several students, upon receiving their final marks, lobbied me for an upgrade, which was unheard of in my day. One student told me his A- grade would spoil his perfect A record. Another insisted that she deserved full credit for class participation because she had attended every class, even though she hadn’t said a word during any of those classes.

I told them that I myself may have received a few A’s as a Penn undergrad. But I mostly got B’s and a few C’s and even one D— “and I’m here today to tell the tale.”

Where did I rank within my Penn class? I never knew, although I did get at least one hint.

One day during the off-season in my junior year— probably January or February 1963– I had to go to Penn’s football office in Weightman Hall. I’ve long forgotten the reason for my visit, but I’ve never forgotten the sight that greeted me when I opened the door.

There I saw our head coach, John Stiegman, and his three assistants huddled around a long table, intently studying several sheets of paper spread out before them. The object of their attention was a printout of all the varsity football players’ grades from the previous semester— which, in the Ivy League, was a critical factor in determining who would and wouldn’t be eligible to play the following year.

When Stiegman saw me, he started laughing. I asked him what was so funny. “Reds,” he replied, “we’ve gotta keep you on the team– to tutor these other guys!”

Nevertheless, that team of presumed academic lightweights subsequently produced its share of accomplished physicians, lawyers, educators, financiers, judges, and even one TV actor. As I said, we lived to tell the tale, despite our grades.

2. Diversity. I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating.

Over the past two generations, educators have discovered that students learn as much from their peers as from their professors or their books— that the most transformational academic experiences often occur not in classrooms but in spontaneous interactions with people unlike themselves.

Numerous studies have since reinforced that conclusion. Even in dry, fact-based subjects like math or science, student performance improves when they’re with diverse classmates— presumably because you’re more likely to exercise your brain among people unlike yourself. In other words, diversity makes you brighter.

This is why the most selective colleges now encourage or even require undergraduates to spend at least one semester abroad. That is also why, when it comes to college admissions these days, diversity matters more than grades or test scores. “We’re looking for a well-rounded class, not well-rounded students,” I’ve heard admissions officers say.

The key question for college applicants, then, is not how bright or accomplished they are, but what unique qualities or talents will they bring to their classmates?

On this question, I speak from personal experience. In the early ’50s, I spent three summers at an international camp in the French Alps whose population was deliberately split between Americans and Europeans. It was a transforming educational experience, but its value would have been negligible had all the campers been Americans, or Europeans, no matter how gifted they were, and regardless of the camp’s programs and staff.
America’s selective universities, which failed to persuade the Supreme Court to sustain affirmative action, have also failed to persuade the public about the educational value of diversity. It’s a shining example of Rottenberg’s Law as to Why the World Is So Screwed Up, to wit: People with knowledge (such as academicians) can’t communicate, and communicators (such as journalists) don’t know anything.

3. Campus antisemitism. My Jewish fraternity at Penn included a musclebound football guard who spent his days pumping weights in Hutchinson Gym. But he never played football after his freshman year, because he felt uncomfortable as one of the few Jews on the team. I, on the other hand— decidedly non-musclebound— never had a problem in this regard. Some of us are more sensitive about this issue than others.

One day in the dressing room, one of my teammates perceptively remarked, “How come 30% of the students at Penn are Jewish, but there are only three Jews on the football team?”

“No, no,” I jested. “There are four Jews: Me, Levin, Paul, and Murphy over there.” Murphy (not his real name) was the last fellow anyone would mistake for a Jew: He was a graduate of Philadelpia’s Roman Catholic High School, and he lived in Newman Hall, Penn’s Catholic refuge, whose residents attended Mass daily). Everyone laughed at my little joke, including Murphy.

In the days that followed, I repeated variations of this Murphy-as-Jew joke. One day, for example, I shouted across the dressing room, “Hey Murph, are you taking off for Yom Kippur?” In a way, it was a curious (and, yes, unkind) sociological experiment in reverse antisemitism. Some of our teammates who weren’t quite into the joke began looking at Murphy differently, and Murphy himself didn’t know how to handle this unexpected attention. My experiment finally ended when Murphy cornered me one day and said, “Hey, let’s cut out this Jewish stuff.” And that was that.

4. Political imbalance. At Yale, according to the committee’s report, “Registered Democrats outnumber registered Republicans 36 to 1 across the Faculty of Arts & Sciences, the Law School and the School of Management.” A recent survey at Princeton found that only 11.4% describe themselves as either somewhat or very right-leaning. Of course, that’s a shame. And yet…

Campus politics reflect the nature of academic work. In theory, at least, scholarship (like journalism) involves an endless quest for the unknowable truth. Ultimately, scholars and journalists are observers rather than players. They must keep an open mind about everything— again, in theory— because they know they could be wrong. This constant doubtful questioning tends to be a liberal attribute.

On the other hand, certain other occupations— business, the military, and sports— require the ability to act quickly, based on incomplete information. These actors must possess a firm belief in what they’re doing. They don’t— can’t— waste too much time pondering alternatives. Here the highest priority is a certain homogeneity in backgrounds, interests, and beliefs that allows the business at hand to move forward. (If football players conducted endless philosophical debates in the huddle, as they used to do in “Doonesbury,” they’d never call a play.)

Of course, conservative intellectuals do exist. But they tend to gravitate to think tanks, where at least they can proceed with some agreement about basic principles.

Why aren’t there more conservative professors? You might as well ask: Why aren’t there more liberal generals?

Enjoy Dan Rottenberg’s newest book, The Price We Paid: An Oral History of Penn’s Struggle to Join the Ivy League, 1950-55. You can also visit his website at www.danrottenberg.com