Culture clash
Did the PC police chase E. Gordon Gee from Brown University?
by Laura Kiritsy
In April 1999, E. Gordon Gee, the president of Brown University, delivered a
lecture at Southern Utah University in which he attacked a growing tide of
moral relativism. The spread of the Internet was eroding community, he said,
turning young people into an uncivilized, narcissistic and cynical lot. "Since
we need not interact with human beings to the extent that we once did, perhaps
we may no longer be sure of how to act, nor even care about the consequences of
our actions," Gee said. "A generation may be concluding that having no
particular core values can be a virtue in a virtual world."
Gee told his audience of educators that universities could stem the decline if
they stopped being "value-neutral" -- therefore "value-less" -- and instead
began to "to incorporate ethics, morality and timeless human values into our
teaching." The task at hand, he said, "will be to teach right from wrong," and
"to suggest which values are basic and timeless, which have been preserved and
what they have taught us."
In the Mormon stronghold of Utah, Gee's lecture no doubt raised more cheers
than hackles. A native of the state and a Mormon himself, Gee could think of
"no better or more symbolic place" to deliver his discourse than "home."
Certainly not at Brown University, his home away from home, and, according to
critics, a stronghold of political correctness. Many members of the Brown
community, though, are proud of the university's status as one of the most
liberal of the Ivies -- it brought the spirit of free inquiry to new heights in
1969 with the "New Curriculum," which abolished course requirements or a core
curriculum beyond a student's chosen concentration. And Gee was viewed with
suspicion even before he arrived on College Hill in January 1998.
"There really was some skepticism on the part of the faculty when he arrived
here, about him personally," says William Beeman, an anthropology professor.
"He's a Mormon and that's a horse of a different stripe at a New England
university. I wouldn't say that people were prejudiced, but they wondered what
that meant."
They soon found out. Gee quickly set a dissonant tone for his 25-month tenure
as Brown's 17th president -- the shortest in the university's 236-year history.
When the details of his Utah speech trickled back to Providence, speculation
that Gee was gunning for a job in Washington began to flourish. Then in
February, Gee abruptly announced he was leaving Brown to become chancellor --
the top job -- at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee. Although
Vanderbilt is no academic slouch (it ranks 20th, compared to 14th for Brown, in
US News and World Report's annual survey of leading national
universities), the announcement sparked anger on College Hill and beyond.
Denying that he was motivated by a $200,000 increase in his compensation
package and tenure for his wife, Constance, a professor of public policy, Gee
said it was a matter of finding the right institutional "fit." But after trying
to position himself as a champion of values, forethought and concern for the
larger community, Gee's sudden departure, two years into an expected eight-year
tenure, struck some as a rank instance of hypocrisy.
Gee's CEO-style clashed with the intellectualism and individualism that have
allowed Brown to remain one of the most selective universities in America.
Dubbed the "professional president" by the Chronicle of Higher
Education, a tribute to his successful presidencies at West Virginia
University, the University of Colorado and Ohio State -- all large public
institutions -- Gee was more accustomed to crunching numbers than working
closely with faculty and a relatively small body of 8000 students.
The clash of cultures became obvious in one of his first administrative move,
the elimination of funding for the university's beloved Charleston String
Quartet. Members of the quartet, a nationally recognized group that performed
free concerts in libraries across the state and on campus, also taught in
Brown's applied music program. Carrying symbolic weight, the cut greatly
angered the Brown community, which accused Gee, a sports enthusiast, of not
adequately supporting the arts. Gee and his wife were chided on the pages of
the Brown Daily Herald, the student newspaper, for their conspicuous
absences at Brown performing arts events.
"What Gee had to endure in terms of public criticism and people coming to him
and complaining was totally out of his experience," Beeman says. "He was
shocked that he was having to answer questions about this. He could not believe
it. He was genuinely nonplused that he would have to stoop to fielding
questions about an executive decision," like cutting funding for the quartet.
GEE ALSO RANKLED professors with his intolerance for faculty review, a
collective faculty-administration approval process for new academic
initiatives, which allowed professors to carefully evaluate changes. In October
1999, he bypassed the process to implement a brain sciences initiative, an
innovative collaboration between the neuroscience and cognitive and linguistic
sciences departments. Beeman concedes brain sciences is a hot field, and a
state-of-the art facility will keep Brown on the forefront. Gee also pushed
through the addition of an $80 million life sciences building.
But money talks, and it's undisputed that Gee raised a substantial amount for
Brown -- more than $100 million in 1999 -- something his much-loved
predecessor, Vartan "Gregarious" Gregorian, managed with less success. Gee's
fund-raising ability appears to be what made him the most appealing candidate
to the corporation, Brown's 54-member governing body, which voted unanimously
to hire him.
Still, try as he might, Gee could not ultimately connect with the student body
after his initial success in rubbing elbows -- a bowling date at Chip's
Bowlerama, dorm sleep-overs and slinging hash in the student dining hall --
wore thin. "He was a very good businessman and that's what we needed," says
20-year-old sophomore Michael Gannon, one of the managing editors of the
College Hill Independent, an iconoclastic weekly published by Brown and
Rhode Island School of Design students. "He made a great deal of money for us.
But he was very big on fraternities. He was very big on athletics. He was very
big on a lot of things that the students just aren't big on.
"I feel kind of bad for the guy actually," Gannon says with a laugh. "Everyone
kind of knew from the beginning that it wouldn't work out that well."
Describing Gee's tendency to "stammer" his way through confrontations with
vague answers, Gannon adds, "He just couldn't hack it, I guess."
Gee is slated to remain on sabbatical before assuming his Vanderbilt
responsibilities August 1, and he couldn't be reached for comment through his
new employer. In an interview with the Vanderbilt Register, a university
publication, one week after he announced his departure from Providence, Gee was
asked if it was true that he was "too conservative" for Brown.
In what may well have been a veiled stab at the campus climate of Brown, he
responded by saying he was a moderate. "The question that I've asked myself at
Brown, as well as at Vanderbilt, is whether all ideas are welcomed," he added.
"And I do not believe ultimately that universities can be called universities
unless ideas are welcomed and debated, even dumb ideas. So I think I stand for
the best tradition of higher education. I would never categorize myself as a
conservative or a liberal. I think that I am a person who relishes ideas
wherever they find themselves."
IN MAY 1999, less than a month after Gee's Utah attack on moral
relativism, a Brown initiative for the study of values was announced. According
to the proposal by Nancy Rosenblum, a professor of political theory, the
initiative was meant, through courses, lectures, research grants and a graduate
fellowship, to spark campus-wide discussion on the elements of the well-lived
life. A fairly innocuous sounding pitch, and nothing particularly new for the
Ivy League -- Princeton's Center for Human Values, for example, celebrated its
10th anniversary this year.
But when the president of your university is a bow-tied, 50-something Mormon
who's already under suspicion for trying to subvert the dominant paradigm, the
values initiative exacerbated growing distrust and disdain for Gee's style of
university management. "I was worried about it," says political science
professor Darrell West. "I think the institutions that deal with values the
best are families and religious institutions, more so than colleges and
universities."
Gannon, the student journalist, says the values initiative caused debate and
was problematic, "especially at a campus where the academic approach is that
there really are no right answers. To have an entire course system based on
values sort of implies that there is a correct answer. I guess what a lot of
people were afraid of . . . was that the values that would be espoused would be
kind of right-wing, conservative, traditional Christian values."
The irony is that American universities, which are supposed to be bastions of
open-minded inquiry and spirited debate, have become increasingly hostile to
free speech, unpopular views and individual rights. "This is really a betrayal
of the left," says Harvey A. Silverglate, a civil-rights lawyer in Boston (and
occasional Phoenix contributor), who in 1998 co-authored The Shadow
University: The Betrayal of Liberty on America's Campuses. While the sudden
departure of an academic administrator might be attributed to careerist
impulses and a better job offer, Silverglate adds, "It wouldn't surprise me at
all if Gee was driven away, in one way or another."
In any case, faculty members were uncomfortable with the values initiative.
Says Beeman, "I think the faculty had deep suspicions, because the program was
just kind of plopped down and announced wholesale. It was funded by the
chancellor. Nobody knew exactly who had provided the impetus for its
establishment. It seemed to be coming along with a number of other programs
that Gee was announcing left and right without a certain amount of
oversight."
The outcry escalated when students got wind of Gee's speech at Southern Utah
University. "That's when people really went nuts on the values initiative,"
Gannon says. "They'd been telling us all along that the values initiative
doesn't enforce any set of values, and then Gee makes a speech that . . . makes
it seem like he has just said very clearly that there is a set of values that
he thinks is correct." In the words of a student who wrote to the Brown
Daily Herald in September 1999, "Few academic decisions have been the
source of so much excitement, confusion and skepticism all at the same time."
The funny thing is, for all his chatter, Gee had absolutely nothing to do with
the conception or architecture of the values initiative at Brown. In fact, it
was Rosenblum who researched and drafted the proposal after she and Chancellor
Steven Robert (Brown '62, who helped to endow the program, along with $150,000
from the Hewlett Foundation of California) found a common interest in values
education. Still, Rosenblum has strong words for Gee's ill-timed sermon in
Utah. "He would never give a talk like that at Brown," she says, "and I think
it was his mistake that he didn't realize" that word of it would reach campus.
"And I think that the students' response to the speech was fair and
appropriate."
IT WAS PRECISELY the tumult surrounding the values initiative that made
teaching its inaugural academic course, "The Good Life," so attractive to Nancy
Armstrong, a professor of comparative literature, media and culture and women's
studies. "Our now ex-president sort of co-opted it for a while and made it look
like values in the neo-conservative sense," Armstrong says. "And we had a lot
of people on the faculty deeply suspicious of this. Which resolved me,
absolutely, not to quit -- to prove that there isn't any topic that we can't
talk about at this school. I'm not going to be scared away by my colleagues'
fear that we might be doing something conservative, which I think is just as
bad as the other impulse."
Rosenblum says the initiative wasn't a response to the "general wave of
jeremiads that say, `We have no values and have to revive them.' She envisioned
a discussion in which the values of the diverse Brown community were embraced,
rather than undermined, and in which students would look beyond moral
relativism to come to their own conclusions. "I think it's very important that
Brown students be confronted with other ideas," she says. "We are quite a
homogeneous little community and a very comfortable community."
Meanwhile, Gee's announcement in February that he was quitting shocked and
infuriated not just the Brown community, but others in higher education.
Gregorian, now president of the Carnegie Corporation, told the New York
Times, "There is an etiquette among educational institutions, that you do
not go after a person who has been in an institution for two years only. And if
you're the president of an institution for two years, you do not leave, either.
I am stunned, utterly disappointed and dismayed."
Meanwhile, the dust quickly settled and the Brown campus heaved a collective
sigh of relief. Less than 48 hours after Gee's announcement, Sheila Blumstein,
a professor of cognitive and linguistic sciences, was appointed the
institution's interim president, a move that, for now, has satisfied just about
everyone.
But although the perceived threat of Gee propagating his traditional values on
campus was gone, the values initiative had, in the minds of some, visited a new
plague on College Hill. In March, Brown's liberal orthodoxy was challenged when
Ralph Reed, the former head of the Christian Coalition, spoke at the Conference
on Participatory Democracy, the first lecture series sponsored by the
university's values initiative.
Reed, who had helped swell the membership of a grassroots organization to 2
million people, was Rosenblum's first choice to speak on the value of
participatory citizenship in politics. At the same time, some faculty and
students were offended by Reed's right-wing agenda, and disruptive students
shouted him down before being escorted from the lecture hall -- an instance
that epitomizes the strictures on free speech at college campuses. In fact,
conservatives like Reed were in the minority at the conference. The next day,
US Senator Russell Feingold, a Wisconsin Democrat, spoke undisturbed on
"Liberalism and the Moral Life."
Although prevailing US political values moved to the right after the '60s,
"The Ronald Reagan era produced no [conservative] backlash on the campus," says
Thor Halvorssen, executive director of the Foundation for Individual Rights in
Education (FIRE), a Philadelphia-based nonprofit foundation that Silverglate
helped to establish. "If any, the most persecuted groups on college campuses
today are believing Christians and conservatives. Never, ever, would you find a
speaker on the opposite end of the spectrum from Ralph Reed shouted down on
college campuses. It really speaks very ill of Brown and those students."
The values initiative finally shook off some of its bad vibes through the "The
Good Life," a course which attracted about 80 freshman. Campus skeptics saw
that the course was not churning out Stepford Students, ready to pull out their
piercings and drop their protest signs to run off and join the Junior League.
"I think the class, in itself, was not in any way attempting to force any
certain viewpoints on us, or trying to convert us as far as our values," says
Kendra Torigoe, an 18-year-old student from the San Francisco area.
Team taught by Rosenblum, Armstrong, and two other profs, the course offered
an exploration of values from ancient Greece through contemporary times,
incorporating such thinkers as Aristotle, Malthus and Thoreau. "All of the
things that people were worried about have fallen through and it's just an
ordinary, moderately successful course," Armstrong says. "These kinds of
initiatives are going on at Brown all the time -- it just really isn't that
unusual. It's just some weird adverse publicity that made it so."
Next semester, "The Good Life" will be offered to freshman and sophomores, as
will another course that came out of the values initiative, "Justice and
Responsibility," along with numerous lectures and other programs. Rosenblum,
though, says she'll discontinue her involvement in the initiative if students
ultimately choose not to take part. Which means that the ballyhooed values
effort could go the way of E. Gordon Gee -- here today and gone two years
later.
Brown, meanwhile, is continuing the search for its 18th president and hopes to
fill the post by January 2001. Although university trustees will have the final
say, Brown is being careful this time around to involve those who were most
disillusioned by their former leader, namely students and faculty. One thing
seems certain: Brown's next president will bear little institutional
resemblance to E. Gordon Gee.