Conant Praises Freedom and Interchange of Views Made Possible by Atmosphere of Large University

The following is part of an article written by President James R. Conant for the Crimson at the time of the Tercentenary celebration in 1936.

--

Modern Harvard is a University a University which prides itself on the vitality of its undergraduate curriculum and the favorable opportunities afforded for the development of undergraduate life. In America today a young man when he has completed his school course, has a wide range of choice in regard to the next step in his education. He may decide to enroll in an institution of technology or a military academy; he may choose to enter a small college or to become an undergraduate in a university. If his choice falls on a university rather than on a college or a technical institute or a military academy, it is presumably because he believes his will discover in a university something which he cannot find in the other types of institutions.

Experience may or may not prove that he war wise in his decision. Even the most enthusiastic advocate of a university education for an undergraduate, (and I think I am thus to be classified) could not fail to recognize that for certain individuals other institutions of higher education might be better. It is of great importance to this country that this varied choice continue to be offered to the student fresh from school. Each type of institution must proceed along its own particular path of development without trying to copy another.

Students Close to Scholars

One of the characteristic features of an American university is the wide range of instruction offered to undergraduates. Almost all academic disciplines are available to the second-year man, at least, and each subject may be pursued through advanced courses almost to the frontiers of knowledge. In Harvard the same faculty has jurisdiction over the undergraduate curriculum and the work of the graduate student in Arts and Sciences. In many departments there is no line dividing the ambitious senior from the first-year graduate student.

This fact and the presence of professional schools under the same academic roof give a certain flavor to the atmosphere of a university not to be found in a college which stands by itself. The methods of instruction necessarily reflect this atmosphere. But the most distinctive feature of a university is to be found in the calibre of its teachers. These men are themselves learners; they are men who are devoting their lives to acquiring knowledge as well as to imparting it. Whether the instruction be by tutorial conference or by lectures, such teachers have throughout their careers a quality which is not to be found in the teacher who is not also a scholar.

It has been well said that "he who drinks from one occupied in learning drinks from a running stream; he who learns from one who has already learned all he has to teach, drinks the 'green mantic of the stagnant pool'."

Knowledge Spreads Here

In a university an undergraduate may, if he desires, go far in his chosen field. This is important both for the men who take advantage of the opportunity and for those who do not. If a concentrator in some field gets within hearing distance of the front line trench where knowledge is being advanced, he will have a new and exciting experience. Unless he is a recluse this new experience will be passed on to a circle of friends. Even in the first year of college the intellectual interests of a group of students are most diverse, and our method of education continues to intensify this diversification. The specialization of each individual does not necessarily sabotage the ideal of a liberal arts college. If the proper conditions exist for student life, the interplay of divergent viewpoints makes for the most liberal and stimulating atmosphere possible.

The misfortune of modern education, in my opinion, is that this process of mixing up the students of different subjects is not continued in the graduate schools. The embryonic doctor, lawyer, business executive, architect, and clergyman would benefit enormously from each other if they could dine together every evening during their graduate school life. At present this is not possible in most universities, least of all, perhaps, at Harvard. We may hope that time will remedy this unfortunate condition.

Students Educate Each Other

For the undergraduate, at least, the opportunities at Harvard for a liberal education by the vicarious methods if I may call it that are most fortunate. After the first year in the Yard the students, distributed among seven Houses, live under ideal conditions for the interchange of different points of view. Of course, no one imagines that the conversation around the dinner table turns every evening on the relative merits of philosophy or economics. Friendships are formed, however, and that is the important point.

The successful history of Oxford and Cambridge colleges shows how much of an educational factor the "collegiate way of life" may be. If all the students in Harvard College were pursuing the same course of study (which was essentially the case before the advent of the elective system) or were all interested in the same general field of knowledge (as is the case in a technical school), then many if not all of the educational values inherent to the House Plan would be lost. Fortunately, in each House there is a representative proportion of concentrators in all the different fields. This is of the utmost importance. For those who take advantage of the heterogeneous company into which they are thrown, the full meaning of the liberal arts college becomes manifest.

Against Forced Education

Personally I am not enthusiastic about an education which is administered by a force pump. I do not believe that, by and large, students of science, let us say, obtain much of permanent value when they are compelled (note, I say "compelled") to take a course in "general literature" or "universal history" or a "survey of western art since 1200"; and I am sure that those of a literary or artistic bent are not educated by being forced to take freshman chemistry or physics.

If a specialist becomes curious about a subject lying beyond his limited horizon and takes a course in it of his own free will, that is another story; or if he argues about it with a fellow student and then starts to read on his own account, that is best of all. Courses for the unwilling are necessarily perfunctory, and a single course in an unrelated subject often fails to be assimilated. If we could agree on what should constitute a liberal education for every stu- dent who was graduated from Harvard and if we could test it, let us say, by a general examination, that would be quite a different matter.

But at the present moment it is difficult to find two people who can agree on the ideal of a liberally educated man. This much seems certain--such a man should have catholic tastes and many intellectual interests, and he should be able to distinguish between knowledge and superficial information. In four short years no one can take enough courses to begin to satisfy a really alive and active intellectual curiosity. One of the many things we fail to accomplish in our colleges today is to convince our students that self-education is really possible and can be profitably pursued through life