frankly seeking profit as one of their ends. Universities and
colleges, on the other hand, are much more free from the directly
economic motive. There are, however, certain large qualifications
to the advantages which institutions of learning thus enjoy. Every
university and college is constantly perceiving new means of increasing
its usefulness and persistently seeking to secure them. The demands
made in behalf of such purposes may seem excessive at times, but it
is clear that an educational institution which does not appreciate
the vital importance of the work it is doing, and consequently the
importance of expanding that work, is simply not worth its salt. In a
great many cases the readiest means of securing the necessary funds is
by appeal to rich men for large gifts and endowments. As the number
of munificent Mæcenases is always limited and the number of needy
institutions always very considerable, a competitive struggle ensues,
different in most of its incidents from the directly profit seeking
struggles of the business world, but essentially competitive none
the less. In the campaign of a university or college for expansion
a large body of students makes a good showing; hence too often low
entrance requirements weakly enforced and low standards of promotion.
At times even the springs of discipline are relaxed lest numbers should
be reduced by a salutary expulsion or two. Courses are divided and
subdivided beyond the real needs of an institution and salaries are
reduced in order to secure a sufficient number of teachers to give the
large number of courses advertised with great fulness in the catalogue.
A large part of crooked collegiate athletics is due to an indurated
belief in the advertising efficacy of gridiron victories as a means
of attracting first, students, and then endowments. So far as charges
of corruption against our higher educational institutions are at all
justified they are justified chiefly by the practices just described.
Fairness requires the statement, however, that a marked change of heart
is now taking place. Public criticism has placed athletic graft in
the pillory to such an extent that enlightened self-interest, if no
better motive, should bring about its speedy abolition by responsible
college managements. Many sincere efforts have been made by members of
faculties singly and through organisations covering certain fields of
study to raise and properly enforce entrance and promotion standards.
Finally in the Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching
there has been developed an agency of unparalleled efficiency for
detecting and exposing low standards. A college may continue to publish
fake requirements, to crowd its class rooms with students who belong
to high schools, to pad its courses, to underpay and overwork its
instructing staff, but if it does these things it cannot, even if
otherwise qualified, secure pensions for its professors, and in any
event its derelictions will be advertised broadcast in the reports of
the Foundation with a precision and a conviction beyond all hope of
rebuttal. Let cynics smile at a process which they may describe as
bribing the colleges to be good by pensioning their superannuates,
but unquestionably the work of the Foundation has resulted in a new
uprightness, a new firmness of standards, a higher efficiency that
bodes well for the future of American education. Parents may give
material encouragement to this movement by reading the publications
of the Carnegie Foundation, as well as college catalogues and
advertisements, before they determine upon an institution for the
education of their children.
Although the conditions just described are the principal evil results
of the competitive struggle for college and university expansion, the
accusations of corruption against institutions of learning have usually
dealt with their teaching of the doctrines of economics, sociology,
and political science. Endowments must be secured; as a rule they can
be had only from the very rich; among the very rich are numbered most
of the “malefactors of great wealth”;—_ergo_ university and college
teaching on such subjects must be made pleasing or at least void of
all offence to plutocratic interests.
There is a certain disproportion between the means and the ends
considered by the foregoing argument which is worth notice. To
found or endow a college or university requires a great deal of
money. Any institution worthy of either name is made up of numerous
departments,—languages, literature, the natural sciences, history,
and the social sciences,—of which only the last named are concerned
with the moot questions of the day. If one cherished the Machiavellian
notion of corrupting academic opinion to his economic interest he
would be obliged, therefore, to support an excessively large number of
departments the work of which would be absolutely indifferent to him.
Endowment of the social sciences alone would be rather too patent.
That they are not over-endowed at the present time in comparison with
their importance relative to other departments is a condition the
large mournfulness of which seems beyond all possibility of doubt to
the writer. Nor should it be forgotten that the teachers of the social
sciences form but a small minority of the whole body of university and
collegiate instructors in all subjects. Nevertheless they are subject
to the rigid general standards of accuracy, fairness, and impartiality
prescribed by the profession as a whole, and enforced severely whether
the offender be a biologist, a philologist, or an economist. Criticism
is far more relentless and constant in this sphere than laymen are
wont to suspect, except on the rare occasions when some more than
ordinarily virulent controversy is taken up by the daily papers. Under
such conditions any academic tendency either toward servility or toward
demagogy is not likely to go long unchallenged.
Considering the high cost and small profits of university manipulation
in this light it is very doubtful whether so indirect a method of
social defence would appeal to our financial pirates. Whatever
their defects or vices, men of this type have at least received the
rigorous training of the business career. They are not philosophers of
farsighted vision, nor are they easily perturbed by fears of distant
dangers. Troubles near at hand they see very clearly; indeed, one of
the chief grounds of clamour against such men is the crass directness
of the bribery to which on occasion they resort. Interests under fire
appeal rather to political hirelings, to venal lawyers, to the courts,
to legislatures, or to the press for effective protection and defence.
College doctrines are too remote, too uncertain of manipulation to be
of assistance. Although they did not learn it from the poet, business
men are certainly not unmindful that:
“was ein Professor spricht
Nicht gleich zu allen dringet.”
Given both the motive and the means, however, the task of corrupting
the college teaching of economic, political, and social doctrines would
seem almost hopelessly difficult. A given institution, may, indeed,
be endowed almost exclusively by a certain man of great wealth. With
very few exceptions knowledge of such munificence is made public
property. If then the president or professors of such a university
should endeavour to justify or palliate the business conduct of the
founder their motives will be suspected from the start and their
arguments, however artfully they might plead the case, discounted
accordingly. If discretion were thrown to the winds (there is perhaps
one case of this sort) the net effect of the work of such apologists,
instead of aiding their financial friends, might profoundly injure
and embarrass them. Those who are familiar with the character of
the American student know that he would be the first to detect any
insincerity in the discussion of public questions by an instructor or
college official. If the prosperity of the college were due almost
entirely to a single bounteous donor its venal professors would, of
course, have no direct motive to defend the economic misconduct of any
other than their particular friend among the captains of industry.
Possibly they might develop a policy similar to that of newspapers in
the same predicament,—silence or soft speaking regarding the sins of
their great and rich friend combined with louder trumpetings against
the social misconduct of other and indifferent financial interests. In
the case of all our important institutions of learning, however, funds
of very considerable size in the aggregate have been received from
many sources in the past, and new gifts, even when they are of large
amount, represent merely fractional additions thereto. Those who know
our colleges and universities will find it hard to believe that the old
academic ideals and traditions of well supported institutions, their
scientific honesty and earnest devotion to broad public service, are to
be cheaply bought by gifts of half a million or more from the _nouveau
riche_. There is such a thing as loyalty to the small gifts often made
with the highest motives and the greatest sacrifices by generations
long since dead. Few institutions desire to disregard this sentiment,
and no institution can disregard it with impunity.
Finally there are the great state institutions of the country,
maintained almost wholly by taxation and hence free from any
corrupting influence that large endowments might exercise. There can
be no doubt that the possession of these two fundamentally different
kinds of economic support is a great safeguard to the independence
of university instruction in the United States. No country is more
blatant in asserting its _Lehrfreiheit_ than Germany, but there the
exclusive reliance of universities upon state support, coupled with the
tremendous strength of government, makes necessary very considerable
modification of the Teutonic boast of absolute academic freedom. To
be sure state institutions in the United States have been charged at
times with similar subservience to legislatures and political leaders.
Whatever perversion of this sort may have occurred it was at least
not turned to the advantage of corporate misdoing. Indeed it probably
had a directly opposite and strongly demagogic trend. Fortunately our
state universities are becoming so powerful, so well fortified by
high and honest traditions, so beloved by great and rapidly growing
bodies of influential alumni that the days of their dependence upon
political favour are well nigh over. It is now beyond all doubt that
they are destined to a career of immense usefulness to our democracy,
and it seems highly probable that they will overtake, if they do not
ultimately excel, the great endowed institutions of the country. If
the latter should ever show themselves subject to the influence of
predatory wealth the development of well supported public universities
should supply the necessary corrective. At the present time, however,
a strong presumption of the general devotion of both classes of
institutions to the public welfare is afforded by the fact that no
recognisable distinction exists between the general doctrines of
economics, political, and social science as taught in endowed schools
on the one hand and in state schools on the other.
It was unfortunately essential to the foregoing argument that the worst
motives should be assumed on the part of college benefactors. Justice
requires ample correction of this point. A conspiracy to influence
the social doctrines of our colleges, as we have seen, is neither so
inexpensive, so direct, nor so likely to succeed as to commend itself
to business men looking for immediate results. No doubt there have
been men of wealth who by large and well advertised benefactions to
colleges and universities have sought not to influence college teaching
but to rehabilitate themselves and their business methods in popular
esteem. Conspicuous giving with this penitential purpose in view is
not likely to prove very effective, however. The sharp insight as to
motives and the half humourous cynicism peculiar to American character
are sufficient safeguards against the purchase of undeserved sympathy
by rich offenders. In spite of the enormous sums given in the United
States not only to the higher educational institutions but also for
many other educational and philanthropic purposes, it seems extremely
doubtful that public opinion has been affected thereby favourably to
plutocratic interests. Few of the great mass are directly touched and
consciously benefited by such gifts, but all are able to see (and
if not they are helped by radicals to see), the superfluity out of
which the donations were made. Benefactors, prospective and actual,
must face the certainty of much criticism and misinterpretation. So
far as this criticism is unjust it is to be regretted; so far as it
is just it contributes materially to social welfare. Investments in
business are judged as to their wisdom by the ready tests of profits
and permanence; investments in social work are not subject to tests so
accurate and so easily applied. To some extent their place is taken
by the advice and criticism of workers in the field. Still there is
large possibility that gifts for social work may be applied in useless
or even in harmful ways. A wise conception of the function of the
philanthropist must therefore include a realisation of the value of
criticism by specialists, and also a determination either to ignore
misinterpretation and unjust criticism, or to await its reversal by a
better informed, if somewhat belated public opinion.
Besides the possible but not always probable motives for making large
gifts referred to above every other conceivable influence has affected
educational benefactions. George Ade’s breezy Chicago magnate who slaps
the college president on the back and says: “Have a laboratory on
me, old fellow,” is slangy, to be sure, but not altogether fabulous.
It is a very common misconception that financial assistance is the
only thing needful in higher educational work. President Schurman of
Cornell University expressed the views of many of his colleagues among
the great university executives of the country when he lamented that
“rich men who give their money to educational institutions cannot
be induced to give also their time and energy to the management of
them.”[49] So neglectful an attitude on their part, by the way, is
hardly consistent with the theory that they are engaged in a conspiracy
to pollute the wells of knowledge. When we consider the immense number
of contributors, large and small, to the cause of higher education
it is impossible to escape the conviction that behind many of their
generous acts lay real sacrifice, an adequate conception of the great
function of university teaching, and the purest and most humanitarian
motives. Often, too, there has been full realisation that “the gift
without the giver is bare,” and patient, unstinted, intelligent service
has accompanied money benefactions. In the same fine spirit nearly all
our colleges and universities have accepted and employed the resources
so generously placed at their disposal.
While due weight should be given to the honourable influences
ordinarily accompanying benefactions, candour also compels the frank
discussion of those cases where constraint of professorial opinion
has been attempted. There have been a few flagrant instances of the
dismissal of teachers on account of utterances displeasing to men who
have been drawn upon heavily for financial support. One can readily
understand the feeling of the latter that, considering their large
gifts, they have been most ungratefully and unjustly abused, and
also the action which they accordingly instigate, although it is as
silly in most cases as the Queen of Hearts’ peremptory command:—“Off
with his head!” Men in other walks of life frequently behave in
the same way. There is, for example, the very commonplace case of
the church member who, disgruntled because of pulpit references—no
matter how impersonal—to his pet sin, cuts down his contribution and
seeks to drive the minister from his charge. The consequences of the
dismissal of a professor because of conflict between his teachings and
the outside interests of college benefactors are so widespread and
dangerous, however, that they cannot be passed over lightly simply
because occurrences of this sort are relatively infrequent in the
academic world.
In the first instance, of course, the teacher himself may seem the
chief sufferer from such controversies. Few of the clear cases of this
sort, uncomplicated by any personal defect on the part of the man who
is dismissed, have resulted, however, in the destruction of a promising
career. On the contrary, positions have been opened up in other more
liberal and often more important institutions to the teachers who have
been persecuted for truth’s sake. Indeed there is some danger that
the halo of false martyrdom, with its possible accompanying rewards,
may mislead the younger and less judicious holders of professorships
to indulge in forms of blatherskiting quite inconsistent with their
office. In the great majority of cases, however, the effect of such
individual assaults upon the tenure of academic position is to threaten
the independence of every department in the same or related subjects
the country over. Here we have the most serious evil resulting from
such unfortunate occurrences. It is certainly great enough to justify
the intervention of the national scientific association to which the
professor belongs at least to the extent of the most searching and
impartial investigation of all the circumstances involved in his
dismissal, and their subsequent publication as widely as possible
whether or not they justify the professor concerned. A powerful
and most welcome auxiliary to the restraining influence which such
investigations are bound to exercise is likely to be supplied by the
Carnegie Foundation if one may judge from tendencies exhibited by its
most recent report.[50] Thus in the last analysis the evil consequences
of attempts to interfere with liberty of teaching are likely to fall
most severely upon the institution which is so weak as to permit such
manipulation. It risks exposure and loss of prestige, it loses men
of worth and suffers in its capacity to attract others to take their
places. All things considered there is every indication that the few
institutions which have offended in this way have learned well their
lesson, and are quite in the penitent frame of mind of the pious Helen:—
“... dies will ich nun
Auch ganz gewiss nicht wieder thun.”
Amid the manifold influences that environ university teaching it is
impossible for any one writer to set down all the guiding professional
ideals. That they are easily corruptible and frequently corrupted is,
as we have seen, absurd. Of both the press and higher education it may
be said that they are in the grip of forces greater than themselves,
of forces mighty to restrain any tendency to be unfaithful to their
own better ideals. The rapidly growing attendance and influence
of universities and colleges would appear to constitute a vote of
confidence on the part of the public which may be interpreted as
a general denial of the charges made against them. In the great
majority of institutions the writer believes that the teaching of the
social sciences is dominated by the ideals of scientific honesty,
thoroughness, and impartiality. No instructor is worthy of university
or college position who deliberately seeks to make converts to any
party or cause, however free his motives may be from the taint of
personal advantage. Rather is it his duty to present systematically
all moot questions in all their aspects. Like the judge summing up
a case he should attempt further to supply a basis for the critical
weighing of testimony by the class,—his jury. He is by no means to be
inhibited from expressing an opinion, indeed he should be strongly
encouraged to express it, stating it however as opinion together with
the reasons that have led him to form it. But active proselyting should
be rigorously barred. It is certainly no part of the duties of a
professor of political science, for example, to attempt to make voters
for either the Democratic or Republican ticket in a given campaign.
If he attempts to do so he will certainly and deservedly fail, and in
addition cripple his own influence and that of the institution which he
represents. The higher duty is his of presenting all the evidence and
the opinions on the points at issue and of exhibiting in his procedure
the methods which will enable his students to investigate and decide
for themselves not merely the political questions of the day but also
the political questions they will have to meet unaided throughout their
later active lives. Not voters for one campaign or recruits for one
cause, but intelligent citizenship for all time and every issue,—such
as is the ideal which the teacher should pursue.
Naturally this attitude does not please everybody. All sorts of
interests, not only corrupting but reforming in character, are
constantly endeavouring to secure academic approval in order to
exploit it in their own propaganda. When this is denied, recourse to
the charge of corruption by an adverse interest lies very close to
a hand already habituated to mudslinging. Although the prevailing
opinions of college teachers on labour legislation, to cite a specific
example, are certainly not those of the manufacturer’s office, just
as certainly they are broader and more progressive than the opinions
of the man in the street. Of course radical labour leaders will take
up still more advanced positions. In the partisanship natural to men
in their situation they may even regard academic suggestions for the
solution of the question as mere palliatives. It is difficult for
them to appreciate the motives or the value to the cause of labour of
the tempered advocacy of disinterested persons who are able to appeal
to the great neutral public which in the end must pass on all labour
reforms and all labour legislation. And the socialists are accustomed
to go much farther than labour leaders, insinuating that capitalistic
influence lurks behind every university chair in economics. Mr. W. J.
Ghent puts their view of the situation as follows:
“Teachers, economists, in their search for truth, too often find it
only within the narrow limits which are prescribed by endowments.”
“The economic, and, consequently, the moral, pressure exerted upon
this class [_i.e._, “social servants,” including college teachers]
by the dominant class is constant and severe; and the tendency of
all moral weaklings within it is to conform to what is expected from
above.”
“Educators and writers have a normal function of social service. Many
of these, however, are retainers of a degraded type, whose greatest
activity lies in serving as reflexes of trading-class sentiment and
disseminators of trading-class views of life.”
“Rightly, it may be said that it is to his [the minister, writer, or
teacher’s] economic interest to preach and teach the special ethics
of the traders; that the good jobs go to those who are most eloquent,
insistent, and thoroughgoing in expounding such ethics, while the
poor jobs or no jobs at all go to those who are most backward or
slow-witted in such exposition.”
“It may even be said that the net result of many of their [_i.e._,
trading-class] benefactions is nothing less than the prostitution of
the recipients—in particular of writers, preachers, and educators.”[51]
By way of contrast with this thoroughgoing arraignment, the opinion of
Mr. Paul Elmer More may be quoted: