Friday, October 17, 2003
Columbia turns 250
Having spent 4+ years at Columbia University, perhaps it's time for me to revel in my ivy-league pedigree and indulge in some good-natured univ pride. And now is as good a time as any since Columbia is celebrating its 250th anniversary this week. Lee Bollinger, the president of Columbia University, wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal for the occasion. Of course, it has the mandatory self-congratulatory remarks on the contributions made by Columbia grads, alumni and faculty.
Everything from the sewers (Charles Frederick Chandler), to the 12-avenue, 155-street grid system (Gouverneur Morris), to the subway (William Barclay Parsons), to the parks and highways (Robert Moses), to the public school system (De Witt Clinton), to Broadway (Rodgers and Hammerstein), to Wall Street (Warren Buffet), to the Yankees (Lou Gehrig), to the mayor's office (one-seventh have been Columbians) -- every facet of the city has been created and shaped by Columbia faculty or graduates. And the same is true of the country: the drafting of the Declaration of Independence (Robert R. Livingston) and the Constitution (Gouverneur Morris); the authoring of the Federalist Papers (Alexander Hamilton and John Jay); the office of the president (both Roosevelts and Eisenhower) and the Supreme Court (nine justices, the most recent being Ruth Bader Ginsburg) -- and on and on.
On and on would include Isaac Asimov, Enrico Fermi, Dr. Ambedkar, Suzanne Vega, Jack Kerouac, Gary Becker etc.
Columbia, like every other university, celebrates its contributions to knowledge: 64 Columbians have won the Nobel Prize (with Columbia College having graduated more laureates in science than any other American college); and whole fields (anthropology) and theories (plate tectonics) were conceived at Columbia.
Bollinger also writes about the importance of idea of the University, especially in open and democratic societies, and why it had withstood the test of time.
There are many reasons why universities have endured the test of time, but a few are fundamental. Foremost is the purpose they serve. Universities remain meaningful because they respond to the deepest of human needs, to the desire to understand and to explain that understanding to others. A spirited curiosity coupled with a caring about others (the essence of what we call humanism) is a simple and unquenchable human drive, certainly as profound an element of human nature as the more often cited interests in property and power, around which we organize the economic and political systems. Moreover, universities at their best have nurtured a distinctive intellectual atmosphere in which one is forced to live in a world of seemingly infinite complexity, while holding onto the natural but quixotic hope that someday it all will be resolved. If the pursuit of understanding is your mission, you simply cannot avoid confronting the immense variety of perspectives out there and, ultimately, how much we don't know, our sheer ignorance. You cannot rely on the comforts of common sense and of having a point of view. Learning to live comfortably in this very uncomfortable mental environment, with all its confusions and disorder and possibilities, defines the intellectual character of the modern university.
And this has great significance for shaping the intellectual and emotional character of open, democratic societies. Just as instilling an entrepreneurial spirit is difficult and takes time, so does the creation of a democratic personality. The instinctive impulse in the marketplace of ideas is to stick with what we think we know, to find others who think similarly so we can mutually reassure ourselves of the correctness of our beliefs, to avoid situations where we might have to justify our ideas and to resort more and more to certitude as the best defense when under attack. These impulses, natural as they may be, are of course devastating to society. With all the pressures toward the closing of our minds that come with conflict in the public arena, it's not a bad idea to have special communities like universities distinctly dedicated to the open intellect.
Well, a tip of the hat to Columbia University and here's wishing it another 250 years of existence.
Everything from the sewers (Charles Frederick Chandler), to the 12-avenue, 155-street grid system (Gouverneur Morris), to the subway (William Barclay Parsons), to the parks and highways (Robert Moses), to the public school system (De Witt Clinton), to Broadway (Rodgers and Hammerstein), to Wall Street (Warren Buffet), to the Yankees (Lou Gehrig), to the mayor's office (one-seventh have been Columbians) -- every facet of the city has been created and shaped by Columbia faculty or graduates. And the same is true of the country: the drafting of the Declaration of Independence (Robert R. Livingston) and the Constitution (Gouverneur Morris); the authoring of the Federalist Papers (Alexander Hamilton and John Jay); the office of the president (both Roosevelts and Eisenhower) and the Supreme Court (nine justices, the most recent being Ruth Bader Ginsburg) -- and on and on.
On and on would include Isaac Asimov, Enrico Fermi, Dr. Ambedkar, Suzanne Vega, Jack Kerouac, Gary Becker etc.
Columbia, like every other university, celebrates its contributions to knowledge: 64 Columbians have won the Nobel Prize (with Columbia College having graduated more laureates in science than any other American college); and whole fields (anthropology) and theories (plate tectonics) were conceived at Columbia.
Bollinger also writes about the importance of idea of the University, especially in open and democratic societies, and why it had withstood the test of time.
There are many reasons why universities have endured the test of time, but a few are fundamental. Foremost is the purpose they serve. Universities remain meaningful because they respond to the deepest of human needs, to the desire to understand and to explain that understanding to others. A spirited curiosity coupled with a caring about others (the essence of what we call humanism) is a simple and unquenchable human drive, certainly as profound an element of human nature as the more often cited interests in property and power, around which we organize the economic and political systems. Moreover, universities at their best have nurtured a distinctive intellectual atmosphere in which one is forced to live in a world of seemingly infinite complexity, while holding onto the natural but quixotic hope that someday it all will be resolved. If the pursuit of understanding is your mission, you simply cannot avoid confronting the immense variety of perspectives out there and, ultimately, how much we don't know, our sheer ignorance. You cannot rely on the comforts of common sense and of having a point of view. Learning to live comfortably in this very uncomfortable mental environment, with all its confusions and disorder and possibilities, defines the intellectual character of the modern university.
And this has great significance for shaping the intellectual and emotional character of open, democratic societies. Just as instilling an entrepreneurial spirit is difficult and takes time, so does the creation of a democratic personality. The instinctive impulse in the marketplace of ideas is to stick with what we think we know, to find others who think similarly so we can mutually reassure ourselves of the correctness of our beliefs, to avoid situations where we might have to justify our ideas and to resort more and more to certitude as the best defense when under attack. These impulses, natural as they may be, are of course devastating to society. With all the pressures toward the closing of our minds that come with conflict in the public arena, it's not a bad idea to have special communities like universities distinctly dedicated to the open intellect.
Well, a tip of the hat to Columbia University and here's wishing it another 250 years of existence.
