Review of Veblen's "The Higher Learning in America." The Nation (New York), Vol. 108, No. 2799, (Feb., 22, 1919), p. 286-288. ['article: Our Commercialized Universities'.] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- [286] Our Commercialized Universities The Higher Learning in America. A Memorandum on the Conduct of Universities by Business Men. By Thorstein Veblen. New York. B. Huebsch. $2. Mr. Veblen's arraignment of the American universities is so complete, so unreserved, so confident in its finality, that it requires statement in the author’s own vigorous words. The universities have failed utterly of their true end and aim, by reason of their control by business men, animated by a false competitive spirit, everywhere pursuing the shadow and losing the substance. Schoolmasters and narrow-visioned utilitarians infused with a barbarian pragmatism are bred by the system, and continue and intensify its futility. The clerical bias has been replaced by the business bias; both forsake the disinterested path of learning. Yet the avowed ideal remains; learning is tolerated, smuggled in, and dissimulated under some plausible pretexts of practicality. Neither professional schools nor disciplinary colleges belong in a university, whose sole purpose is to advance the higher learning. Experts in short-term political prestige have brought the money-changers into the temple and even look to the popular esteem of money-changing to give the traffic sanctity. Yet they continue to seek the prestige of the temple of learning. "The graver issues of academic policy which now tax the discretion of the directive powers, reduce themselves in the main to a question between the claims of science and scholarship on the one hand and those of business principles and pecuniary gain on the other hand." "Business success is by common consent, and quite uncritically, taken to be conclusive evidence of wisdom even in matters that have no relation to business affairs." "Full of the same faith that business success 'answereth all things,' these business men ... exercise full discretion in these matters with which they have no special familiarity." "The American business is a spirit of quietism, caution, compromise, collusion, and chicane,” as America is "the land of the unearned increment.” Justifying the control of universities by the large financial interests, they extend it to all matters, including those of utterly unrelated and sharply opposed animus, in which the true life of learning consists. The common argument that college learning unfits for business carries with it the converse that fitness for business has no relation to fitness for control of fitness for business has no relation to fitness for control of learning. The parallel implication, that what is of no use in business is not worth while, is less avowedly professed. To ignore or excuse the ‘‘surveillance of the academic work” which is exercised through the budget shows a strange lack of practical sense, while it in no way touches the futility and "ingenious folly" of the entire arrangement. The members of the board select a president in their own image and impose him as a "captain of erudition" on a complacent and unconsulted faculty. For this autocratic individual "a modicum of scholarship and scholarly ideals" is a perquisite, and a combination of astuteness with a gift for popular appeal the chief requirement. The general result is "wasteful defeat" of the university’s purpose. The perversion runs far and wide, and cuts deep. The governing spirit of the institution is false. The competitive idea introduced from the business world rules everywhere and combines with the acceptance of the criterion of popular approval, counting upon a rhetorical appeal to the gallery. One university wastefully competes with another; catalogue pretensions ridiculously overstate facilities. Departments compete with one another for students; professors compete by way of class-rolls and truculence to superiors. Every item of the mechanism of teaching must be standardized and made to tell a statistical tale, which alone falls within the comprehension of the laity. The captains of erudition and their subordinates may know better, but they are either helpless or complacent. Their relation to the captain is simple: "They have eaten his bread, and it is for them to do his bidding." "The faculty is conceived as a body of employees, [287] hired to render certain services and turn out certain scheduled vendible results." To them is left inconsequential detail. Preferment goes to those affected by the same temper as directs the enterprise, and thus are recruited deans and henchmen and "the many committees-for-the-sifting-of- sawdust into which the faculty of a well administered university is organized." The root source of the untoward development is the extraneous control. Its consequences are many. Under the "Keeper of the Tape and Sealing Wax" the imponderables and incommensurables of learning are spread upon the record in terms of units and hours; and bookkeeping rules supreme. Popularity and notoriety are assets; salesmanship is cultivated above workmanship. Advertising becomes an essential industry developing in the extreme to "a ravenous megalomania" prolonging "a shout into polysyllables." Cheapening the product by increasing the output is the maxim, ever recognizing that it is bad business to offer better goods than the market demands. Puerile "student activities," temporizing schools of commerce, vociferous university extension, showy architecture in bastard antique, scholars underpaid and overworked, diplomatic mischief-makers seeking crumbs of control, stultification and waste and inefficiency everywhere - not even substitution by way of compromise, but crude displacement and abject surrender. The evil is concentrated, aided, abetted, and reenforced in the president, who exalts administrative frills and through his autocratic appointing power creates a faculty after his own image. With a boyish imitation of business enterprise, with "a serene and voluble loyalty to current conventions," this masquerading captain of erudition becomes "an itinerant dispensary of salutary verbiage” and the discourager, even the sterilizer, of learning, the agent of the angel of decay, rejoicing in his function, glorifying it, seeking the centre of the stage, and spreading perversion with every move - all in as uncritical and mixed a temper as this eclectic delineation. When more pointedly and colloquially expressed, the epithets gain in sincerity what they lack in elegance, until the eavesdropper upon confidential comment might well conclude that "the typical academic head, under these latterday conditions, will be a feeble-minded rogue." "With all due endeavor to avoid the appearance of a study in total depravity, the foregoing analysis has come, after all, to converge upon the growth and derivation of those peculiar ambiguities and obliquities that give character to the typical academic executive." Yet the office rather than the man is to blame. "It is the duties of the office, not a run of infirmities peculiar to the incumbents of office, that make the outcome. Very much like that of the medicine-man, the office is one which will not abide a tolerant and ingenuous incumbent." For success in such an "enterprise m meretricious notoriety" implies less native gift and previous training than the simpler issue of submitting to the discipline and by natural drift conforming to the type. As for remedies, there are various ways of mitigating symptoms; the only radical cure is the dissolution of the “trust”- like university (which would hurt the feelings of the trustees), the abolition of the executive, and the reduction of administration to a minor place. Correctively, the removal of a futile control; constructively, the self- determination of faculties and professors; in brief, the placing of authority, with responsibility, in the faculty is the sole path of redemption. It would be an entire misconception of Mr. Veblen's essay to counter its thrust by exposing its weaknesses and its exaggerations. It would be peculiarly impertinent to take the attitude tempting to many a professor, and reply that he personally is not suffering (much as the anti-suffragists of comfortable station disavow any inconvenience through the absence of the vote), and thus deny the relevancy of the thesis. Mr. Veblen is quite prepared to admit all manners and measures of "reservations and abatements," is careful to emphasize that the results may (under favorable circumstances do) approximate to a creditable consummation under the conditions that obtain. But, first as last, the trend of the system is in the wrong direction, even when tolerantly relieved by the inconsistency that refrains from exercising authority. First as last, no profession can worthily carry on its mission upon uncertain rations of "reservations and abatements." To move enthusiastically and vigorously a career must proceed upon sound inspiring principles, and enjoy the freedom of growth and service that can come only by self-direction. As Lowell put it, compromise makes a good umbrella, but a poor roof. The academic shelter is exposed to untoward forces, because the occupants are tenants on probation, when they should be landlords. When all is said that may be said in extenuation and excuse, and all is done that may be done in mitigation and relief, the system of extraneous control under which American universities operate stands bare of defence and convicted of the serious charges that the Veblens and Cattells and many another less articulate protagonist of reform lay against it. The system, if not "ingeniously foolish," is at least strangely and cumulatively inept. Unquestionably, the commercializing-even admitting its inevitability in some measure has been hastened and aggravated by the false spirit of concession, even the warm adoption of the programme which the academy should have resisted wisely and vigorously and well. "Good work, that is to say sufficiently good work to be worth while, requires a free hand and a free margin of time and energy." If the pursuit of learning is to furnish a career reasonably promising of achievement and satisfaction, it must cease to take on the character of an obstacle-race. An open highway on a firm foundation is indispensable; plodding through mud and sand discourages, the more so when it is the consequence of misguided engineering and an interfering desire for control. There is no consolation in the reflection that there are redeeming bits of roadway where the course, running through difficult country, has been left to the more expert. It is Mr. Veblen’s merit that he has enunciated principles and presented a perspective; he has sketched the promised land that the present generation will not enter, but might have possessed. More than that: he has made it possible openly and honorably to state an adherence which has been invidiously interpreted as the evidence of a private grudge or a soured disposition. The utterly foolish injection of personal references and carping criticism into the momentous question of university control has made it almost impossible to discuss it calmly in academic circles. The local reference overshadows the objective consideration. The complacency of the profession in the presence of harrassing evils, the lack of professional spirit that stands up for cause (for others less fortunate if not for oneself), the surrender of ideals to the lure of easement and preferment, the temptation of the mess of pottage: these qualities cannot be gainsaid, and invite the conclusion that such a temper deserves nothing better than the employeeship which it accepts. The point at which one may legitimately take exception to Mr. Veblen’s thesis is his conception of the desirable or necessary limitations of the professorial career, granted its primary devotion to the higher learning. In his assumption that the scholar desires to be or should be, nothing more than a scholar, he will fail of a following. It is plainly uneconomical to cultivate scholarship and not use it to the full. Every man is something more than his profession; the scholar’s influence in the community is a general asset. Many of the activities that a modern university calls upon the professor to perform - if he chances to have the ability - are helpful to his career. Versatility is not a lost gift, and the limitations of the specialist and the cloistering of the 'Gelehrter' are not commendable products in this wide-awake world. Moreover, every practical man is ready to make concessions, and pay for his liberty. The scholar may well prefer to do so by way of collegiate work, accepting some measure of drudgery. But he agrees that he must not be given to do what will maim or hamper his main fitness, what will divert or endanger the broad possibility of his best talents. He rightfully demands stimulus as he goes, and an atmosphere that incites him to the optimum of endeavor. Many things contribute [288] to that end; many more hinder. The issue is converged upon the function of trustees and the too expansive, too Prussianeering, executive. Mr. Veblen places them in the class of undesirable influences in the higher learning of America. In illustration of the animus of learning, he cites the ingenious question of Benjamin Franklin: Of what use is a baby? Learning, like a baby, justifies itself; trustees and presidents do not. They exist (or are mistakenly permitted to exist) for the sake of a definite end; by that service they must be measured. Yet with all this granted, those sympathetic with the thesis will raise the issue whether the spirit of university control could not be decidedly altered by alteration of the temper, without abandoning the established instruments of control. Therein lie the practical hope and the adjustment to the status quo. The placing of a considerable group of faculty members on the board of control seems the simplest step to prevent the evils from growing worse; how far it will rectify them remains to be seen. It is frankly a compromise, and as such can find justification only as an umbrella, not as a permanent structure. To alter the figure: such shared direction will remove the feeling that the scholars are eating at the second table, which in fact they are. With so much of concession to those who insist that ways and means and balances of powers are the true ends of man, let the concluding emphasis of the book remain: that Mr. Veblen, like President Wilson, places himself with those who believe in principles first. In the reconstruction that is upon us, for political relations as for those of learning, that is the largest stake, the supreme issue. To Mr. Veblen belongs the glory, as yet not conspicuously acknowledged, of a leader in a momentous issue. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------