here - American Academy of Arts and Sciences


here - American Academy of Arts and Sciences

Beethoven sustained his workthrough all the vicissitudesof physical illness, deafness,and alienation, not only byhis obsessive devotion to hiscraft but also by maintaininghis faith that great musiccould bene½t humankind.then came, as a much more personal gesture,the Piano Sonata in E-flat Major, “Lebewohl,”Opus 81a. Written in the late spring and summerof 1809, it is Beethoven’s only fully programmaticpiano sonata. Its subject is theArchduke’s departure, absence, and eventualreturn from the royal family’s exile during Napoleon’ssiege and occupation of Vienna. (Thetitle originally planned for the sonata was tobe “Der Abschied–am 4ten Mai–gewidmetund aus dem Herzen geschrieben S[einer]K[aiserliche] H[hoheit],” “The Farewell–onthe 4th of May–dedicated and written fromthe heart to His Royal Highness.”) Beethovenremained in Vienna during the fearful Frenchbombardment and the long occupation, butmanaged to compose this sonata and other importantworks (including the “Harp” Quartet,Opus 74), besides compiling extracts from theoristsin order to teach counterpoint, ½guredbass, and strict composition to the Archdukewhen he should return.He never had a more devoted pupil. Susan Kagancounts about twenty-four ½nished worksby Rudolph, plus dozens of un½nished ones.Most of Rudolph’s compositions are for solopiano or are keyboard chamber music, and itcan’t be accidental that Rudolph’s special proclivityfor fugue and fugato coincides with Beethoven’sown emphatic turn to counterpointin his later years. Rudolph amassed a very largemusic library in the royal palace, which he madeavailable to Beethoven, and it soon becameeasier for Beethoven to locate his works in Rudolph’scollection than in his own chaotichousehold. Rudolph let Beethoven use roomsin the royal palace for rehearsals and performances,provided extra ½nancial donations, usedhis influence to help Beethoven in his litigationover nephew Karl, guaranteed loans–ingeneral, treated him “as a friend and not a servant,”as Beethoven said in a letter of 1819.Needless to say, however, Beethoven grumbledabout his teaching duties. In a letter he complainedto Ries in 1823 that while the Archbishopwas to be back in Vienna for four weeks heexpected Beethoven to give him a lesson everyday, of two and a half to three hours each. It’shardly surprising that Beethoven’s intense concentrationon his own work made him angryabout the regular routine of trudging over tothe royal palace two or three times a week togive Rudolph his lessons, and he often wrotehim short notes canceling the lessons and pleadingillness, sometimes giving considerable detailabout his current physical problem. Onesenses that he knew the epileptic prince wouldsympathize with him. As Beethoven wrote,“He understands music and is quite absorbedin it. He is so talented that I am sorry not to beable to take as much interest in him as I usedto.” On the other hand, Beethoven took pridein Rudolph’s accomplishments. And even if heonce compared Rudolph to King Richard theLion Heart and himself to Blondel, Richard’sminstrel, he worked hard at correcting Rudolph’swork. Nothing is more suggestive thanthe contemporary report that when Beethovenin his last years was stone deaf to conversation,he could somehow hear the Archduke’s softvoice through the smallest of his ear trumpets.“I never . . . shall succeed in being acourtier”The complexity of their relationship is visiblein Beethoven’s letters. We catch a glimpse of itin a letter of March 1819, in which Beethovenoffers fulsome congratulations to Rudolph onthe news of his accession, while reminding himthat “this new honor will not be accepted withoutsome sacri½ces.” He thanks Rudolph for alarge new composition that he has sent him,which in fact was a set of forty variations on atheme that Beethoven had given him. Beethovencalls the variations “masterly” and laudsRudolph’s “truly ½ne talents and really excellentgifts of imagination”–but he also pointsout “several little slips” in the composition andurges Rudolph to keep on striving to improve.Later in the same letter, Beethoven drops themask of humility and reminds Rudolph that,although he is a royal prince, he cannot dictateto Beethoven as if he were a servant: “Your . . .command that I should come, and again yourintimation that [you] would let me know whenI should do so, I was never able to fathom, for Inever was, still am not, and never shall succeedin being a courtier.” Now comes the heart ofthe matter: “Your Imperial Highness can . . .create in two ways–both for the happiness andwelfare of very many people and also for yourself.For in the present world of monarchs, creatorsof music and benefactors of humanityhave hitherto been lacking.” Thereafter Beethovendeclares that, eventually, when “a HighMass composed by me will be performed duringthe ceremonies solemnized for Your ImperialHighness [it] will be the most glorious dayof my life.” When Beethoven ½nished the MissaSolemnis in 1823, three years after Rudolph’sactual installation, he inscribed the autographmanuscript to Rudolph with the words, “Fromthe heart–may it go to the heart.”Some of the other works he dedicated to Rudolphreflected his personal allegiance in otherways. For example, while he was composingthe “Hammerklavier” Sonata in 1817, Beethovenwas also planning a choral piece for Rudolph’sname day. A now lost sketchbook of1817, which was described in the late nineteenthcentury by the great Beethoven scholar GustavNottebohm, contained sketches for both thechoral piece and the piano sonata; two of thesesketches carried the text “Vivat Rudolphus”(“Long live Rudolph”). The motifs of bothchoral sketches relate directly to the dramaticopening gesture of the “Hammerklavier” Sonata,with its powerful upward leap and continuation,and suggest that these words of praisefor Rudolph are encoded in the opening motifand thus the work as a whole. It is certainly interestingthat to open the “Lebewohl” Sonata,eight years earlier, he had written the word“Le-be-wohl” (“Farewell”) into the score, as ifto make explicit the heartfelt meaning of theopening musical gesture. It is as if the piano issinging this word, one note to each syllable.The “Archduke” Trio, Opus 97The “Archduke” Trio, Opus 97 (which was admirablyplayed by the Boston Trio as part ofthis presentation) is generally known by Rudolph’stitle for no other reason than that it wasdedicated to him; the same nickname couldjust as reasonably have been applied to the greatpiano sonata, Opus 106 that he called “Hammerklavier”(Beethoven was then insisting onthe use of German rather than Italian on thetitle pages of his publications). The Trio Opus97 was composed in 1811, during the twilightyears of his second period. It is the last of Beethoven’sworks for piano trio, a genre that hetook over from Mozart and Haydn and to whichhe contributed a series of works–the three Triosof Opus 1; the Clarinet Trio, Opus 11; andthe two magni½cent Trios of Opus 70–thatwere innovative in their structural and aestheticqualities, not least in the ways in whichthe violin and cello match in importance thepowerful resonances of the piano.Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 5

Beethoven had known formost of his career that in hisworks he was speaking notonly to his own time but tothe future.The “Archduke” Trio is among the bigger worksof his middle period, which I have called elsewherehis “second maturity.” It is set up not inthe three movements traditional in piano trios,but in four large movements, like his symphoniesand quartets. It has a substantial Allegro½rst movement; a long Scherzo and Trio; amassive slow movement, here in variationform; and an attractive and brilliant ½nale. Itembraces both the monumental and the lyricalaspects of Beethoven’s style, and every movementhas the length and complexity that we½nd in some other of his large cyclic works ofthis time, including the String Quartet in FMajor, Opus 59 No. 1 and the Seventh Symphonyin A Major, Opus 92. Especially noteworthyis the memorable opening paragraph,initiated by the piano alone, with the stringsgradually joining in the ensemble and thenelaborating new ½gures as they prepare for therestatement of the main theme in which theywill now be the dominating voices. The schemeof the whole movement is innovative in itsuse of harmonies related by descending thirds,rather than the tonic and dominant polaritycharacteristic of most works in major keys atthis period. It uses one of Beethoven’s adroitopening gambits in beginning with a lyricaltheme that subdivides into shorter motifs thatdevelop later in the movement, thus organicallyconnecting the parts to the whole. It is a processsimilar to the opening of the ½rst movementof the “Pastoral” Symphony in F Major,Opus 68.The Scherzo is a brilliant tour de force of intricatedialogue among the three instruments;and the contrasting “Trio” section presents achain of contrasts that begins with the fuguelikeexposition of a slithering chromatic themeand moves on to a brilliant Viennese waltz. Theslow movement, a chain of variations based ona long hymn-like theme, brings a vein of solemnityto the work. The variations gain in gravityas they proceed, culminating in a freely elaboratedCoda, or closing section. The slow movementends by preparing the way for the ½nale–a brilliant, at times jocular, sonata-rondo movementthat makes much use of instrumentalinterplay and completes the whole work bylightening the atmosphere.6 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004The Missa SolemnisFor Rudolph’s installation Beethoven plannedand executed his greatest choral work, the MissaSolemnis. “As dif½cult as it is for me to speakabout myself,” he declared to his publisher,“nevertheless I do believe that it is my greatestwork.” Written on a symphonic scale for soloists,chorus, and full orchestra, it stands withthe Ninth Symphony (which he wrote directlyafterward) as a monumental expression ofhis belief in humanity’s relationship to God.Though not a churchgoer, Beethoven was aborn Catholic who had been deeply influencedby Enlightenment ideals. This mass symbolizesnot only the power of belief but the individual’sinterior experience of faith; in theseways it resonates with the then current revisionistviews in Austrian and German religiouscircles that were seeking to reinforce the importanceof highly personal forms of devotion.Its ½nal movement, the “Dona nobis pacem,”contains a telling subtitle: “Prayer for innerand outer peace.” It is a representation of thestruggle between war and peace familiar toeveryone in Beethoven’s lifetime, and reflectshis hope for the pax humana, the ideal of humanlife unblemished by war and anxiety. Musicallyit belongs with Bach’s B Minor Mass (whichBeethoven knew as early as 1810, at least in part,and which he may have seen in its entiretythrough contemporary copies). But in the personalsense, this mass is his largest tribute tohis royal disciple.“In the world of art . . . freedom andprogress are the main objectives”In Beethoven’s letter of March 1819 we saw amixture of his self-assertion as a great artist,his pride in his royal pupil, and his encouragementto Rudolph to use his new position as abenefactor of his people and also to continueas a composer. Equally lofty ideals emerge in aletter of July 1819. Beethoven had been to theroyal palace to consult some older music in Rudolph’smusic library. “The older composersdo us a double service,” Beethoven writes inpraise of the music of earlier eras, “since thereis generally real artistic value in their works(among them, of course, only the GermanHandel and Sebastian Bach possessed genius).”And now Beethoven comes to the crux: “in theworld of art, as in the whole of our great creation,freedom and progress are the main objectives.And although we moderns are not quiteas far advanced in solidity as our ancestors, there½nement of our customs has enlarged oursphere of action. My eminent music pupil,who himself is now competing for the laurelsof fame, must not bear the reproach of beingone-sided.”On the one hand, he is giving Rudolph avuncularadvice to steep himself in the solid techniquesof the masters of earlier music, aboveall Bach and Handel. But his main purpose isto underscore that by returning to earlier models,Rudolph (like Beethoven himself ) canachieve a connection to the past and can bring“freedom and progress” to his artistic work.We do not think of Beethoven as an especiallyliterate artist, but as he once claimed, “frommy childhood I have striven to understandwhat the better and wiser people of every agewere driving at in their works.” Behind this1819 letter to Rudolph stands a lifetime of beliefin the ideals of freedom and progress thathad ½red the French Revolution, coupled withan awareness of the successive betrayals ofthose beliefs that had come about through theReign of Terror, through Napoleon’s despotism,and through the repressive regimes thathad succeeded Napoleon after 1815. Beethovenhad grown up at a time when Kantian idealismwas the new intellectual dogma, and throughall his disillusionment with contemporary politicshe held to that broad image. In a conversationbook of 1820 he wrote, “The starry skyabove us and the moral law within us–Kant!!!!”In music his strongest statement of sustainedbelief in these ideals–that “all men shall bebrothers”–was the Ninth Symphony (1822–1824), but in personal terms his vision of Rudolphas benevolent prince and archbishopfollows a parallel line. Beethoven sustained hiswork through all the vicissitudes of physicalillness, deafness, and alienation, not only byhis obsessive devotion to his craft but also bymaintaining his faith that great music couldbene½t humankind–that his aim was not toprovide cultural entertainment but to make asigni½cant difference in the world. Such musiccould not be merely effective, simple, and popular,but had to live up to the highest standardsof artistic tradition, purpose, and expression.Such a view, possible for artists in the Romanticera but agonizingly dif½cult today, is akinto Shelley’s claim that “poets are the unacknowledgedlegislators of mankind.”For Beethoven, then, his royal pupil seemed topersonify an ideal. Beethoven saw in Rudolphthe rarest of patrons: a member of the highruling class who gave him generous supportand had become his pupil and disciple, thus replacingthe typical political values of his classwith an acceptance of artistic ones. In a deepersense, Beethoven’s vision of Rudolph was reallyan imagined vision of himself. Though Ru-

dolph was a perfectly competent composer,none of his work rose above the average levelsof Beethoven’s lesser contemporaries. But Beethovenhad known for most of his career thathis capacities and accomplishments were farabove those levels, and that in his works hewas speaking not only to his own time but tothe future. Which is in fact what has happened.Suggestions for further readingand listeningEmily Anderson, ed., The Letters of Beethoven,3 vols. (London: Macmillan, 1961); WilliamDrabkin, Beethoven: Missa Solemnis (Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 1991); Susan Ka-gan, Archduke Rudolph, Beethoven’s Patron, Pupil,and Friend (New York: Pendragon Press,1988); Susan Kagan, “Beethoven and HisPupils” cd, Koch International Classics No.3–7351–2 hi (containing ArchdukeRudolph’s Forty Variations on a Theme byBeethoven, Susan Kagan, pianist); LewisLockwood, Beethoven: The Music and the Life(New York: W. W. Norton and Co., 2003);Maynard Solomon, Beethoven, 2nd rev. ed.(New York: Schirmer Books, 1998).© 2003 by Jessie Ann Owens and LewisLockwood, respectively.1.Jessie Ann Owens and LewisLockwood12.Irina Murisanu (Boston Trio), BernardBurke (MIT), and Louis Cabot (Cabot-Wellington, LLC)3.Owen Gingerich (Harvard University),Arnold Relman (Harvard MedicalSchool), and Marcia Angell (HarvardMedical School)234.Leslie Berlowitz (American Academy)and Christoph Wolff (Harvard University)5.Lewis Lockwood, Karen Painter (HarvardUniversity), and Reinhold Brinkmann(Harvard University)4 5Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 7

ago, Winston Churchill, the prime ministerof Britain, while ½ghting valiantly for democracyin Europe, insisted that Britain’s vast non-European empire, over which the sun was unableto set, was altogether unready for democracy.However, within a few years from then,that view was quite obsolete, and rightly so.It would be tragic indeed if this hard-earnedunderstanding were now lost in the intensedialectics surrounding the current events inIraq. Questions can and should be raised aboutwhether democracy (to adapt an old Maoistphrase) can come out of the barrel of a gun,especially when the aim of the gun seems soconfused. But it is extremely worrying to seethat the understandable opposition to globalunilateralism and to underinformed militaryaction sometimes takes the drastic form ofdisputing the very possibility of having a democraticIraq or, for that matter, a democraticMiddle East.This is one immediate reason for returning tothe old question: What’s the point of democracy?There are, of course, others. Let memention two. First, despite the normativeacceptance of democracy as the appropriateform of government, there remains practicalskepticism about the effectiveness of democracyin the poorer countries. Democracy, it hasbeen alleged by many, does far worse thanauthoritarian rule, especially in fostering economicgrowth and development. The contrastingof India with China is only one ofmany empirical arguments that are presentedin support of this castigation of democracy.A second line of criticism involves high theoriesof cultures and civilizations. It is arguedthat democracy is a peculiarly Western norm–not in tune with the foundational values ofother societies. The thesis that democracy is aquintessentially Western idea has been championedin different ways by both non-Westerncultural separatists and Western theorists whowrite about clashing cultures and clanging civilizations.I have argued elsewhere against this culturalcritique (in particular in my essay “Democracyand Its Global Roots,” published in The NewRepublic in October 2003). I shall draw on someof the evidence I presented there, along withother data, but I will also try to interpret theoverall picture in the perspective of the centraltheme of tonight’s presentation: What is thepoint of democracy?Democracy does not, of course, rely on justone singular point, but involves many interrelatedones. It is, however, worthwhile to askWhat is the central point of democracy? What(to borrow a phrase from T. S. Eliot) is “thestill point of the turning world”? A good clueto the “still point” can be found, I believe, inthe analysis of the foremost political philosopherof our time, John Rawls. Democracy,Rawls has taught us, has to be seen not just interms of ballots and votes–important as theyare–but primarily in terms of “public reasoning,”including the opportunity for public discussionas well as interactive participation andreasoned encounter. Democracy must include,to invoke a Millian phrase, “government bydiscussion.” Indeed, voting and balloting arepart of that broader public process.In the ½eld of politics, Rawls has argued thatobjectivity demands “a public framework ofthought” that provides “an account of agreementin judgement among reasonable agents.”Reasonableness requires the political willingnessof individuals to go beyond the limits oftheir speci½c self-interests. But it also makessocial demands to help fair discernment, includingaccess to relevant information, theopportunity to listen to varying points of view,and exposure to open public discussions anddebates. In its pursuit of political objectivity,democracy has to take the form of constructiveand ef½cacious public reasoning.The belief that democracy is a quintessentiallyWestern idea–a unique feature of the historyof Western civilization–is often linked tothe practice of voting and elections in ancientGreece, especially in Athens. There is certainlypriority there. Indeed, by taking note of thebroader tradition of public reasoning that flourishedin different ways in ancient Greece, earlyGreek connections to the origin of democracycan be seen to be even larger. But the jump fromthere to the thesis of the quintessentially Westernor European nature of democracy is a resoluteleap into confusion. This is so for threedistinct reasons.The ½rst dif½culty is mainly classi½catory andconcerns the partitioning of the world intolargely racial categories representing discretecivilizations, in which ancient Greece is seenas part and parcel of an identi½able “European”or “Western” tradition. In this classi½catoryperspective, no great dif½culty is seen in consideringthe descendants of, say, Goths andVisigoths as proper inheritors of the Greek tradition(“they are all Europeans”), while thereis great reluctance in taking note of the Greekintellectual links with ancient Egyptians, Iranians,and Indians, despite the greater interestthat the ancient Greeks showed in talking tothem, rather than in chatting up the ancientIn the domain of politicalideas perhaps the most importantchange to occur hasbeen the recognition of democracyas an acceptableform of government thatcan serve any nation.Goths. Being incurably mealy-mouthed, I willcall this a taxonomic dif½culty, but perhaps astronger comment would have been possible.Second, while Athens was unique enough ingetting balloting started, there were many regionalgovernments that went that way in thecenturies to follow. There is nothing to indicatethat the Greek experience in electoral governancehad much immediate impact in the countriesto the west of Greece and Rome, in, say,France or Germany or Britain. In contrast,some of the cities in Asia–in Iran, Bactria, andIndia–incorporated elements of democracyin municipal governance to a great extent underGreek influence. For example, for severalcenturies from the time of Alexander the Great,the city of Susa in southwest Iran had an electedcouncil, a popular assembly, and magistrateswho were proposed by the council and electedby the assembly. The battle for electoral freedomthat is going on right now in AyatollahKhamenei’s Iran (with the reformists ½ghtingwith their back to the wall) is concerned withpolitical rights that had some acknowledgmentin Iran even two thousand years ago.The third dif½culty, which is particularly centralto tonight’s theme, concerns the importanthistorical point that while public reasoningflourished in many ways in ancient Greece, itdid that also in several other ancient civilizations–sometimesspectacularly so. For example,some of the earliest open general meetingsaimed speci½cally at settling disputes betweendifferent points of view took place in India inthe so-called Buddhist councils, where adherentsof different points of view got together toargue out their differences. The ½rst of theselarge councils was held in Rajagriha shortly afterGautama Buddha’s death twenty-½ve hundredyears ago. The grandest of these councils–the third–occurred under the patronage ofEmperor Ashoka in the third century b.c.e. inPataliputra, then the capital of India and whatis now called Patna. Ashoka also tried to codifyand propagate what must have been amongthe earliest formulations of rules for public dis-Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 9

cussion–a kind of ancient version of the nineteenth-century“Robert’s Rules of Order.” Hedemanded, for example, “restraint in regardto speech, so that there should be no extolmentof one’s own sect or disparagement of othersects on inappropriate occasions, and it shouldbe moderate even in appropriate occasions.”Even when engaged in arguing, “other sectsshould be duly honoured in every way on alloccasions.”I doubt that these good rules of verbal engagementwere actually followed most of the timein popular debates, but public discussion certainlyreceived considerable championing inIndian traditions. Even the all-conquering Alexanderwas treated to a good example of whattoday’s diplomats would call a full and frankdiscussion, as he roamed around in northwestIndia around 325 b.c.e. When Alexander askeda group of Jain philosophers why they wereneglecting to pay any attention to the greatconqueror, he received the following forcefulreply:King Alexander, every man can possess onlyso much of the earth’s surface as this we arestanding on. You are but human like the restof us, save that you are always busy and up tono good, travelling so many miles from yourhome, a nuisance to yourself and to others!. . . You will soon be dead, and then you willown just as much of the earth as will suf½ceto bury you.We are told by Arrian that Alexander respondedto this egalitarian reproach with the samekind of admiration as he had shown in his encounterwith Diogenes, even though his actualconduct remained completely unchanged (“theexact opposite of what he then professed to admire”).Indeed, the importance of public discussion isa recurrent theme in the history of many countriesin the non-Western world. To choose anotherhistorical example, in Japan in a.d. 604,the Buddhist Prince Shotoku, who was regentto his mother, Empress Suiko, produced the socalledconstitution of seventeen articles. Theconstitution insisted, much in the spirit of theMagna Carta to be signed six centuries later ina.d. 1215: “Decisions on important mattersshould not be made by one person alone. Theyshould be discussed with many.”To take another example from a much laterperiod, when in the 1590s the great MoghalEmperor Akbar was making his pronouncementsin India on the need for tolerance, andwas busy arranging organized dialogues betweenholders of different faiths (includingHindus, Muslims, Christians, Parsees, Jains,10 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004Public reasoning, in variousforms, has had a long historyacross the world, andthese traditions in diversecultures make it hard to seedemocracy as an essentiallyWestern idea.Jews, and even–it must be noted–atheists),the Inquisitions were still flourishing in Europe.Giordano Bruno was burned at the stake inRome, in Campo dei Fiori, for heresy in 1600,even as Akbar was lecturing on tolerance andholding interfaith dialogues in Agra.Public reasoning, in various forms, has had along history across the world, and these traditionsin diverse cultures make it hard to seedemocracy as an essentially Western idea. Thisrecognition does not reduce, in any way, thefar-reaching relevance of the fact that the contemporaryconcepts of democracy and of publicreasoning have been very deeply influencedby European and American experiences andideas over the last few centuries. But to extrapolatethat experience backward to constructa long dichotomy running through the pastis no more than potted history–indeed it issomewhat more pot than history.In his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom,Nelson Mandela describes how influenced hewas, as a young boy, by observing the democraticnature of the local meetings that wereheld in the regent’s house in Mqhekezweni:Everyone who wanted to speak did so. It wasdemocracy in its purest form. There may havebeen a hierarchy of importance among thespeakers, but everyone was heard, chief andsubject, warrior and medicine man, shopkeeperand farmer, landowner and laborer. . . . The foundation of self-government wasthat all men were free to voice their opinionsand equal in their value as citizens.Mandela’s “long walk to freedom,” his searchfor “the still point of the turning world,” begandistinctly at home.I move now to the effectiveness critique, basedon the claim that authoritarian regimes do betterthan democratic ones in economic development.There are two points to be made in response.The ½rst is the basic valuational pointthat democratic rights are among the constitutivecomponents of development, and they donot have to be justi½ed by their indirect contributionto economic growth. Politically unfreecitizens–whether rich or poor–are deprivedof a basic liberty and of a fundamental constituentof good living.Second, the empirical claim of a negative relationbetween democracy and economic growthhas not been con½rmed by the extensive intercountrycomparisons that have been undertaken.The often repeated claim is based onselective empiricism. Also, even in interpretingthe success of South Korea or Singapore,empirical analysis has to distinguish betweenpost hoc and propter hoc. It is increasingly clear–even from India’s recent experience–that economicsuccess depends on a friendly economicclimate, rather than a ½erce political one.Furthermore, aside from economic growth,there is also the issue of human security. Democracygives political power to the vulnerableby making the rulers accountable for their mistakes.The fact that no major famine has everoccurred in a democratic country with a relativelyfree media merely illustrates the mostelementary aspect of this protective power. Indeed,democracy’s contribution to human securityextends far beyond famine prevention.The poor in booming South Korea or Indonesiamay not have given much thought to democracywhen the economic fortunes of all seemedto go up and up together in the 1980s and early1990s, but when the economic crises came in1997 (and divided they fell), democracy and politicaland civil rights were desperately missedby those whose economic means and lives wereunusually battered. Democracy has become acentral issue in these countries now, as it alsohas in many other countries in Asia, Africa,and Latin America.But what about the speci½c comparison ofChina and India? Certainly, China has outperformedIndia in many respects, not just inrecent economic growth, but also through itscommitment to basic education and healthcare for all, in which Maoist China made anearly start. Even though China had the largestfamine in history during 1958 to 1961–a faminelinked directly to the government’s refusal tocorrect its course for more than three years,a refusal that could not have persisted in anyfunctioning multiparty democracy–it did eventuallypull out of that terrible crisis. By thetime the economic reforms were introducedin China in 1979, China had a lead of thirteenor fourteen years over India in longevity. TheChinese life expectancy–at least sixty-sevenor sixty-eight years by 1979–was almost a decadeand a half longer than India’s puny ½gureof ½fty-four years.

Then came the economic reforms of 1979,with the Chinese economy surging ahead andgrowing much faster than India’s more modestperformance. However, despite China’smuch faster economic growth, since 1979 therate of expansion of life expectancy in Indiahas been about three times as fast, on average,as that in China. China’s life expectancy, whichis now just about seventy years, compares withIndia’s ½gure of sixty-three years, so that thelife-expectancy gap in favor of China, whichwas thirteen or fourteen years in 1979 whenthe Chinese reforms were ½rst implemented,has now been halved to only seven years.Indeed, China’s life expectancy of seventyyears is lower than that in parts of India. It isparticularly instructive to look at the Indianstate of Kerala–home to thirty million people–whichis particularly distinguished in combiningIndian-style multiparty democracy withthe kind of social intervention of which prereformChina was perhaps the world leader.At the time of the economic reforms in 1979,when China had a life expectancy of aboutsixty-seven years or so, Kerala had a similar½gure. By now, however, Kerala’s life expectancy,estimated to be around seventy-½ve years,is substantially higher than China’s seventy.Going further, if we look at speci½c points ofvulnerability, the infant-mortality rate in Chinahas declined extremely slowly since the economicreforms, whereas it has continued to fallvery sharply in Kerala. While Kerala had roughlythe same infant-mortality rate as China–thirty-seven per thousand–at the time of theChinese reforms in 1979, Kerala’s present rateof ten per thousand is a third of China’s thirtyper thousand (where it has stagnated over thelast decade).There is clearly some problem with the “reach”of the bene½ts of the Chinese economic reforms.First, the reforms led to the eschewalof free public health insurance, so now individualshad to pay for private health insurance(except when provided by the employer, whichhappens only in a small minority of cases).This retrograde movement in the coverage ofhealth care received little public resistance–as it undoubtedly would have met in any multipartydemocracy.Second, democracy also makes a direct contributionto health care by bringing social failuresinto public scrutiny. India’s health services arequite terrible–I have discussed elsewhere howdefective they are, and only two months ago inDecember 2003 I had the dubious privilege ofpresenting in a news interview in Calcutta thedepressing ½ndings of the ½rst health report ofthe Pratichi Trust (a trust I was privileged toset up with the help of the Nobel money thatcame my way some years ago).But the possibility of such intense criticism isalso a social opportunity to make amends. Infact, the persistent reporting of the de½cienciesof Indian health services is, ultimately, asource of India’s dynamic strength, reflectedin the sharp reduction in the China-India gapin life expectancy and the broadening of thegap (in the opposite direction) between Chinaand Kerala. Kerala has been helped by the combinationof the bene½ts of a vigorous democracywith those of a social and political commitmentrather similar to what had put Chinaahead of India in the ½rst place.I end with a ½nal remark on the relevance ofdemocracy at the global level. The point is oftenmade, with evident justice, that it is impossibleto have, in the foreseeable future, a democraticglobal state. This is indeed so, and yetif democracy is seen in terms of public reasoning,that need not put the issue of global democracyin inde½nite cold storage. Many institutionshave a role here, including of coursethe United Nations, but there is also the committedwork of citizens’ organizations, ofmany ngos, and of independent parts of thenews media.There is also an important role for the initiativetaken by a great many activist individuals.Washington and London may be irritated bythe widely dispersed criticism of the Coalitionstrategy in Iraq, just as Paris or Tokyo or Chicagomay be appalled by the spectacular vili-½cation of global business in parts of the socalledanti-globalization protests (which isperhaps the most globalized movement in theworld today). The points that the protestersmake are not invariably sensible, but many ofthem ask very relevant questions and thuscontribute constructively to public reasoning.This is part of the way global democracy isalready being pursued, without waiting forthe global state. The challenge today is thestrengthening of that participatory process.It is not a negligible cause. Nor is it culturallyparochial.© 2004 by Thomas Scanlon and Amartya Sen,respectively.1.Amartya Sen and Thomas Scanlon2.Daniel Bell and Zeph Stewart (both,Harvard University)1 2Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 11

space and time are flexible, and Hubble’s observationsare a manifestation of an expansionof space that moves galaxies away from oneanother.Are There Limits To Our CosmicArrogance?Michael S. TurnerThis essay is based on Michael Turner’s presentation that was given at the Academy’s MidwestCenter’s Stated Meeting, held at the Adler Planetarium in Chicago on November 1, 2003.Michael S. Turner, a Fellow of the American Academysince 1996, is the Rauner Distinguished ServiceProfessor at the University of Chicago and AssistantDirector for Mathematical and Physical Sciences atthe National Science Foundation.From Quark Soup to theExpanding Universenasa: hst image of sn1994d. Figure courtesy of nasa.Cosmologists are arrogant. They believe theycan determine how the universe began and howit has evolved thus far. They also aspire to understandits ultimate destiny. As a cosmologist,I must defend this arrogance. Without it, wewould have never undertaken the seeminglyimpossible task of trying to ½gure out the universe–fourteen billion years of history (thusfar) stretched across a trillion trillion kilometersof observable space. And, as if that werenot enough, we have to do this sitting on a tinyrock, which orbits a very ordinary star withina slightly above average galaxy.The past century’s cosmologists have much tofuel their arrogance. The hot big bang theorycharts the evolution of the universe from thehot, formless, quark soup that existed earlierthan 0.00001 seconds, to the universe we seefourteen billion years later, one comprised ofhundreds of billions of galaxies. The grand adventurebegan in the 1920s when Edwin PowellHubble established that galaxies are the buildingblocks of the universe and discovered thatall the galaxies visible in the sky (in Hubble’stime, only a few hundred) are moving awayfrom our own Milky Way. Einstein’s theory ofgravity provided the theoretical foundation:Since then, cosmologists have imaged hundredsof millions of galaxies and mapped thelarge-scale features of the universe, includinggreat clusters of galaxies, superclusters of clusters,giant voids (great regions of space populatedwith very few galaxies), and great walls(sheets comprised of tens of thousands of galaxies).The Hubble Space Telescope has revealedthe birth of galaxies (½gure 1); the ChandraX-ray Observatory has glimpsed billionsolar-massblack holes that formed less thana billion years after the beginning; and microwavetelescopes have imaged the universe as itwas when it was only four hundred thousandyears old and atoms were forming (½gure 2).Still, cosmologists are not satis½ed. We aspireto trace our cosmic origins back to before thequark soup–to the subatomic quantum fluctuationsthat we think seeded the galaxies, clustersof galaxies, and even larger structures. Wewant to understand the nature of the mysteriousdark matter that holds the universe together,and of the dark energy that is causing itsexpansion to speed up. With ideas as bold aswas Einstein’s relativity theory ninety yearsago, and new, more powerful instrumentsmade possible by great technological advances,the flyboys of today’s science speak of a goldenage in cosmology–and it is hard to arguewith us!Inner Space/Outer SpaceConnectionsThe key idea powering the current cosmologicalrevolution is the deep connection that existsbetween the inner space of the elementary particlesand the outer space of the cosmos. Theseconnections go well beyond the fact that theinfant universe was a soup of elementary particles,and they are well illustrated by the guidingparadigm of cosmology today, “Inflation +Cold Dark Matter.” This theory holds that “ouruniverse” was created in a burst of expansion(called cosmic inflation) powered by “falsevacuum”energy. Because of that explosivegrowth spurt, all that we can and will ever beable to see originated from the tiniest bit ofthe pre-inflationary landscape. This explainswhy the universe we observe is so uniform (onthe large scale, it looks the same everywhereand in all directions), and predicts space is uncurved,or is “flat” (Einstein’s theory allowsfor space to be curved; the inflationary burstflattens any spatial curvature).12 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

Cosmologists are arrogant.They believe they can determinehow the universe beganand how it has evolved thusfar. They also aspire to understandits ultimate destiny.As a cosmologist, I mustdefend this arrogance.This burst of expansion was our big bang event,and the demise of the false-vacuum energy thatcaused it was the origin of the heat of the bigbang (seen today in the cosmic microwaves that½ll space) and ultimately all forms of matterand energy within it. If inflation occurred once,there is every reason to believe that it has occurredan in½nite number of times in the pastand will continue with this frequency in thefuture. Inflation sidesteps the issue of “The Beginning,”changes “The Big Bang” into countless“big bangs,” and leads to a universe that isactually a multiverse comprised of countlessbubble universes.The Cold Dark Matter part of the theory purportsthat the matter holding our universe togetheris not the star stuff that we are made of,but rather slowly moving elementary particles(called Cold Dark Matter) left over from theearliest ½ery moments (see ½gure 3). Owingto quantum fluctuations on subatomic scalesblown up to astronomical size during inflation,the Cold Dark Matter is not uniformly distributed;it is a little lumpy (with variations in thedensity of around 1 part in 100,000). Gravityacting over the past fourteen billion years hasturned this lumpiness into all the cosmic structurethat we see today. The gravity of the ColdDark Matter particles provides the cosmic infrastructurethat holds together galaxies includingour own Milky Way, the great clusters ofgalaxies and superclusters. The atomic matterwithin galaxies further condenses and formsthe stars that light up these objects.Figure 1: The HST Ultra Deep Field. In this small patch of the sky (one ten millionth of the entiresky), imaged by the Hubble Space Telescope for almost two weeks, there are ten thousandgalaxies. The light from most of the galaxies originated when the universe was a few billionyears old or less. This is as far as one can see because one is looking back to the time whengalaxies were just forming. Figure courtesy of NASA.Evidence for an InflationaryBeginningThe ½rst solid evidence supporting this remarkablepicture came in 1998. Measurements of thetiny variations in the intensity of the cosmicmicrowave background radiation across the skyindicated that the universe is flat, as predictedby inflation. The detailed pattern of these tinyFigure 2: A several hundred square-degree patch of the microwave sky imaged by the Wilkinson MicrowaveAnisotropy Probe (WMAP). The tiny variations in microwave intensity (parts in 100,000) are displayedas color variations and indicate the slightly lumpy distribution of Cold Dark Matter four hundredthousand years after the beginning. According to inflation theory, these variations arose from quantumfluctuations during inflation, and thus, this WMAP image is a picture of subatomic quantum fuzzinessblown up and projected across the sky by enormous expansion during inflation. Figure courtesy of WMAPand NASA.Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 13

Figure 3: List of particle candidates for the dark matter. Some of the darkmatter (1 percent of the critical density or less) is now known to be made ofneutrinos; the bulk is believed to be made of an as of yet undiscovered elementaryparticle, with the axion and the neutralino being the leading candidates.Figure 4: The composition of our critical density, flat universe. Less than 1percent exists in the form of stars, 4 percent in atoms, 30 percent in ColdDark Matter, and 66 percent in weird dark energy. The bulk of matter andenergy are in as of yet unidentified forms of matter and energy. While thephotons in the CMB (Cosmic Microwave Background) contribute muchless than 1 percent of the total, they are an invaluable relic today, and atan early time provided the bulk of the mass/energy density.variations was consistent with a quantum originof the lumpiness. Further, the “missing energy”needed to bring the total mass/energydensity to the critical value was found: a flatuniverse must have the critical density, andmatter only accounts for 30 percent. Evidencefor the other 70 percent came in the unexpecteddiscovery of “cosmic speed up.”For seventy years cosmologists tried to measurethe gravitational slowing of the expansion;when they ½nally succeeded they found thatthe universe is actually speeding up. This oddtwist was good news for inflation, because thespeed up implies the existence of a weird formof dark energy that contributes 70 percent ofthe critical density and whose gravity is repulsive.When added to the 30 percent known toexist in matter, this totals 100 percent (see ½gure4). Now we just have to ½gure out exactlywhat the dark energy is–but, of course, we arecon½dent that we will.14 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004The most interesting obstacles are more fundamental.A key feature of inflation–that itmakes the present state of the universe insensitiveto how it began–throws up a kind ofscreen that blocks knowledge of earlier times.Further, inflation multiplies the possibilitiesand exponentially increases the territory to beexplored. With an in½nite number of inflationarybubbles that will never communicate withone another, even complete knowledge of ouruniverse amounts to in½nitesimal knowledgeof the whole. If the Copernican principle, theguiding principle in cosmology for the past fourhundred years, is correct, then this is not anobstacle in practice. (The Copernican princidigm:a higher resolution map of the cosmicmicrowave background from experiments atthe South Pole to the new Planck satellite; andmeasurements of the expansion rate by a varietyof techniques to get at the dark energy. Inthe laboratory, some will attempt to directlydetect the Cold Dark Matter particles that holdour own galaxy together, and others will try tocreate them with powerful particle acceleratorsat Fermilab and cern. The James WebbSpace Telescope, successor to hst, will takeus deeper into space and further back in timeto view the ½rst stars.The End of Cosmology?There is much work to be done, and many questionsstill to be answered. But will proving thatInflation + Cold Dark Matter is correct ½nallysatisfy cosmologists and lead to the end of cosmology?Arrogance is pretty powerful stuff, soprobably not. But are there limits to how muchwe can learn about the universe? There are theobvious worries–money and public interest inspending for an activity with no practical application,for instance. I doubt these factors willset the limit, however. Curiosity about the beginninghas been and always will be unlimited.A more serious worry is that cosmology is anarchaeological science. Since experiments asA host of evidence since–from the WilkinsonMicrowave Anisotropy Probe’s (wmap) recentmeasurements of the cosmic microwavebackground to the mapping of structure in theuniverse by the Sloan Digital Sky Survey–hasfurther strengthened the case for Inflation +Cold Dark Matter. But this is just the tip of thecosmic iceberg. A veritable avalanche of cosmologicaldata will de½nitively test this paragrandas creating a universe cannot be carriedout, we must rely upon relics, such as the cosmicmicrowave echo, the lightest elements inthe periodic table that were cooked in the bigbang, and both forms of matter, atoms anddark matter. I cannot resist mentioning thatthe father of inflation theory, mit’s Alan Guth,undertook a serious study of how to create auniverse in the laboratory and concluded thatit is possible. Need I say more about arrogance?Maybe our bubble universe is a freshman physicslab experiment in another universe goneawry. It is certainly possible that we will runout of relics before our curiosity is satis½ed,but I am too optimistic to believe that this willbe our demise.

I am bullish on cosmology.During the next two decadesthere will be exciting developments,new surprises, andgreat advances in our understandingof the universe.ple, sometimes known as the principle of cosmicmediocrity, holds that we occupy a typicalplace in the cosmos.)However, in a universe of in½nite possibilities,even the extremely improbable happens. Itcould be that our bubble universe is very atypical.For example, it may be that the typical bubblenever evolves living creatures. If this is thecase, then our view of the universe dependscritically upon our existence. While a handfulof cosmologists have long advocated the anti-Copernican or anthropic principle–namely,that the laws of physics and the universe itselfare the way they are so life could evolve andbecome aware of them–few took this viewseriously. I am not a fan of the anthropic principle(which I like to call the narcissistic principle),because it strikes me as giving up on ahard problem by looking in the back of thebook for the answer. Inflation, however,makes us take a more serious and more scienti½clook.According to string theory (the most promisingattempt to unify all the forces and particlesof nature), while there are universal lawsof physics, there can be different realizationsof these laws (local bylaws) within individualbubbles. The variations can be quite profoundand include the number of spatial dimensions,whether or not matter is stable, andother factors that determine whether or notlife will develop. Further, even within identicalbubbles, historical accidents could makethe difference between a barren universe andone teeming with life. It might be that anextremely improbable event shortly afterinflation led to a future that is conducive tolife. If anthropocentric considerations and notsimply the laws of physics have determinedthe character of the bubble in which we ½ndourselves, there may truly be a fundamentallimit to what we can infer about the universeas a whole.Fundamental limits or not, I am bullish oncosmology. During the next two decades therewill be exciting developments, new surprises,and great advances in our understanding ofthe universe. Still, the question remains, arethe limits to our understanding of the universeset by our own creativity and boldness?Or are there fundamental limits to our understanding?© 2004 by Michael S. Turner1.Michael S. Turner2.Midwest Center Vice PresidentMartin Dworkin1 23.Donald Lamb (University of Chicago)and Academy President Patricia MeyerSpacks4.John Katzenellenbogen (University ofIllinois at Urbana-Champaign) andPatricia Spear (Northwestern University)3 4Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 15

My research is very mathematical,very quantitative,and seemingly very far awayfrom what my father did.Nevertheless I found myselfusing many of his ideas.decided to switch to economics–a move thateveryone thought was crazy, except my fatherwho was smiling. You can see where this isheading: I was now in academe and, furthermore,into one of the social sciences.My research is very mathematical, very quantitative,and seemingly very far away from whatmy father did. Nevertheless I found myself usingmany of his ideas. I will list a few examples.There is the concept of post-factum interpretationafter the observation to provide an explanation,which he paid a lot of attention to andwas pretty derisive about. Of course, in economics,post-factum interpretations are madedaily: read The Wall Street Journal today and youcan learn exactly why the market did what itdid yesterday. Post-factum applies even morematerially to measuring the performance ofmoney managers, and in that regard it is not atrivial matter.The next one on the list, the self-ful½llingprophecy, or sfp as he called it: Some economistshave speculated that the option pricingmodel that Fischer Black, Myron Scholes, andI derived might not have been descriptive ofmarket pricing before its public release, but ifenough people believed in it, maybe prices adjustedso the model became accurate afterwards.Then there was rkm’s concept of manifest andlatent functions, well cited in my early papersbut even more so in my later work applyingfunctional analysis to better understand ½nancialinnovation and institutional change. Considera speculative market, say the stock market.Its manifest function is to permit transactionsthat allow ½rms to raise funds by issuingshares that investors can buy and trade amongsteach other. So if you were never going to do anytransactions in the market, why then would youhave any interest in it? One answer is that themarket gives you information. Managers whomight never issue equity in their ½rms neverthelessneed to look to the market for informationto help them make effective decisionsabout the ½rm’s investments–thus providinginformation is an important latent function ofspeculative markets.Still another one of rkm’s formulations, theconcept of unanticipated and unintended consequencesof social actions, came into my workwhen I was analyzing the implications of theU.S. government providing guarantees for corporatepensions. In the last decade I’ve focusedon developing the so-called functional perspectivein ½nance to examine the evolving ½nancialsystem. This perspective uses ½nancialfunctions instead of institutions as “anchors,”or framing elements of the system–thus freeingus to think about the dynamics of changein economic institutions as an endogenous process.You can imagine the discussions I had withmy father about that. So I ½nd myself very, veryclose to precisely where I was trying not to beat the start, more than four decades ago–anddarn happy about it!Now, apart from our endless talks, my fatherand I did actually work together: in 1981 wehad a draft of a theory including a mathematicalmodel on problem choice and the functionsand dysfunctions of priority in the reward systemin science. Although subsequently both ofus became very involved in our other separateresearch projects, we continued to work togetherto expand on the ideas and potential applications.In fact, in 1989, our joint paper wasgoing to be the lead article in Rationality and Society,the journal that James Coleman had juststarted, but my father did what he had donemore than once before. As it was about to go topress he said, “No, it’s not quite good enough.”Fifteen years later, it’s still not good enough,but I’m going to try to make it right. In the fallof 2002, my father published his last book, TheTravels and Adventures of Serendipity (coauthoredwith Elinor Barber), which actually originatedin the 1950s. So, in terms of his holding backand delaying publication, our joint project isnowhere close to the record.In sum, try as I could to do otherwise, I endedup not at all far from my father. He was indeeda role model in the deepest sense of that term.He was so aware and so active and so intellectuallyproductive up to the end of his life–andthat’s a heck of a role model to have going forward.I am really delighted that this meeting is takingplace here. This was a very important institutionin my father’s life, and I had the great goodfortune to join the Academy and be a part of itwhile he was too. Indeed, we had several suchshared connections, including membership inthe National Academy, and we were the onlyfather and son ever to hold honorary degreesfrom the University of Chicago.I cannot end my remarks without noting anothercollaboration that never occurred–theone in which the two of us coauthor a piecewith Robert Merton Solow. My father said tome, “We simply must do a joint piece with Bob.”And I immediately reacted, “That’s great...let’s do it! I surely wouldn’t mind being sandwichedbetween the two of you.” He elaborated,“Of course, there can be only one way toorder the authors–Robert Merton Solow andRobert Merton Duo.”Robert M. SolowI am not a sociologist, as you know, nor have Iever taught at Columbia University. So far as Ican recall, in fact, I have never been formallyor institutionally associated with Bob Merton,senior. There is, however, one thread of connectionbetween Robert K. Merton and RobertMerton Solow that goes back more than sixtyyears–to January 11, 1942, to be precise. (Thereis someone here this evening who goes backeven further: Ruth Smullin, the wife of mymit colleague Louis Smullin, was Merton’stutee as a Radcliffe student in 1938.)If you look at the bibliography in the 1970 reprintof Merton’s 1938 classic Science, Technologyand Society in Seventeenth-Century England, youwill ½nd a reference to a paper by one RobertSolow entitled, of course, “Merton’s Science,Technology and Society in Seventeenth-Century England.”The paper is dated January 11, 1942. OnJanuary 11, 1942, I was a sophomore at HarvardCollege, a little less than seventeen and a halfyears old. I had been taking Talcott Parsons’scourse on the sociology of science, and hadturned in my term paper on time. Parsons gaveit an A and sent it on to Merton. With his usualgrace, Bob Merton read it, entered it in hisbibliography, and found it unnecessary to commenton it. I live in hope that the paper is irretrievablylost or destroyed. I am afraid I canimagine what it was like. I didn’t get to knowMerton personally until much later.There is no mystery in the fact that he was unappeasablyattracted to all kinds of ideas, especiallyideas about social institutions, but reallyabout anything. What is more mysterious isthat somehow ideas were attracted to him, asif he were some kind of intellectual flypaper. Ifwe took any six of us here and put us in a roomwith Bob Merton and released an idea somewherenear the chandelier, the odds are two toone that it would flutter down and come to reston Merton. You realize what that means: therandom idea had a two-thirds probability of½nding its way to Merton and a probability ofBulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 17

just one-eighteenth of coming to rest on one ofus. And we are intelligent, idea-friendly peopleor we wouldn’t be here. He must have emittedsome pheromone-like come-on.It struck me that the obviously right way for meto pay tribute to my friend–and everybody’smentor–is to stick to ideas. So I reread one ofBob Merton’s most celebrated papers, and Ipropose to describe it and discuss it now. Thepaper I have in mind is “On Sociological Theoriesof the Middle Range.” I chose it partly forsel½sh reasons: I think of myself as an economictheorist of the middle range, so I am curiousabout parallels and differences between thedisciplines.Merton tells us that this essay expands somecomments he had made on a paper read by TalcottParsons at the 1947 meeting of the AmericanSociological Society. Merton’s essay can beread as a sort of declaration of independencefrom his teacher and friend, because Parsonswas then the leading advocate and exemplar ofthe tendency in social theory that Merton wasopposing. He says that serious work in sociologyranges from single, isolated empirical studiesof particular situations with little or no potentialfor generalization or even for interconnection,all the way to grand, all-inclusive systemsof sociological theory. He thinks that thebest prospects for progress in sociology lie intheories of the middle range: “theories that liebetween the minor but necessary working hypothesesthat evolve in abundance during dayto-dayresearch and the all-inclusive systematicefforts to develop a uni½ed theory that will explainall the observed uniformities of social behavior,social organization and social change.”And later: “Middle-range theories consist oflimited sets of assumptions from which speci½chypotheses are logically derived and con-½rmed by empirical investigation ....Thesetheories do not remain separate but are consolidatedinto wider networks of theory.”Merton offers, as sociological examples of themiddle range, the theory of reference groups,the theory of social mobility, of role conflict,and of the formation of social norms; and hethinks of these as analogous to such classicalinstances as a theory of prices, a germ theoryof disease, or a kinetic theory of gases.A dif½cult question arises about the relation ofmiddle-range theories to total systems of sociologicaltheory, like those associated with suchnames as–I have to quote this–“Marx andSpencer, Simmel, Sorokin and Parsons.” (It wascertainly not lost on Merton when he wrotedown that passage that neither Karl Marx norHerbert Spencer had even a microscopic senseWhat would Merton have said had he beenthere? I think he might have said: “OK, so it’snot exactly Protestantism, and Weber erred.But there is a research project here. Where,across time and space, have there arisen similarethical injunctions to achieve demonstratedgoodness by worldly success? And wherehave they been broadly accepted? And whatdo those instances have in common? Are thereother well-documented middle-range theoriesthat bear obliquely on this sort of thing?” Thiswould, of course, have been put elegantly, andwith a reminder that to proceed in that direcofhumor.) It is clear that Merton does notthink it is fruitful to start by deducing middlerangetheories from such comprehensive theoreticalsystems. In the ½rst place, all those grandtheories in sociology are more like “theoreticalorientations” than they are like tight, rigoroustheories. So it may not be possible to getfrom some grand theory to a particular middlerangetheory. Merton points out explicitly thata successful middle-range theory may be logicallycompatible with more than one grandtheory. I don’t remember that he says so explicitly,but it seems to me that, in sociology, onegrand theory may be compatible with more thanThere is no mystery in thefact that he was unappeasablyattracted to all kindsof ideas ....What is moremysterious is that somehowideas were attracted to him,as if he were some kind ofintellectual middle-range theory aimed at the samegroup of observable facts. But it is pretty clearlyMerton’s view that if a successful–that meansempirically successful–middle-range theoryis incompatible with some overarching system,so much the worse for that grand system.It is very important for him that middle-rangetheories have the potential to interconnect withone another and form networks of related hypothesesthat can give rise to broader generalizations;but the examples of this that he mentions,without developing them, seem to involvefairly small increments in generality. It isnot clear to me whether Merton harbored thethought that very general social theory couldbe built from the bottom up by this process ofaccretion. But he made no bones about wherehe thought the opportunities for productivework in sociology and social theory were to befound–and my experience in economics leadsme to believe that he was right.Not every sociologist agreed with him. Thepaper gives some examples of polarized argumentspro and con the middle range. I am notknowledgeable enough about what went onbefore and after to try for a balanced interpretation.But I will say that Merton’s discussionof the controversy is distinguished by sanity,and that comes as no surprise. He cannot havehad a monopoly on sanity, but he had a healthymarket share; it was clearly his natural temperament.I want to illustrate this discussion of the interconnectionissue by an anecdote. Bob Mertonwas not a participant, but I dearly wish he hadbeen. To begin with, in the course of the middle-rangeessay he mentions that Durkheim’sSuicide is his nominee for the Academy Awardfor middle-range theory, with Weber’s TheProtestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism maybea close second. (The Academy Award locutionis mine, not his. Like many of you, I have readboth books, but missed the movie versions.)Now the story continues. Back in 1957–1958,by chance, Talcott Parsons, David Landes, andI were all fellows at the Center for AdvancedStudy in the Behavioral Sciences in Palo Alto.One afternoon, Landes was giving the weeklyseminar. He had (serendipitously) come upona treasure trove of personal letters written bymembers of some entrepreneurial textilemanufacturingfamilies in the cities of Roubaixand Turcoing in northern France. The lettersincluded hortatory messages from fathers anduncles to sons and nephews. These people wereall pious, unquestioning Catholics. But themessages they were transmitting and the advicethey were giving sounded exactly as ifthey had been lifted from Weber’s Calvinists.So what is then to be made of the Protestantethic and the spirit of capitalism? Could Weber’smiddle-range theory have been wrong?It was in Bob Merton’s mind that one of thegreat advantages of middle-range theories isthat they could be wrong and you could showthem to be wrong. Talcott Parsons, who sortof owned Max Weber in those days, would notallow the possibility of error. Weber hadn’tactually meant Protestantism, but maybe justsome appropriate religious orientation, or evensome ethically sanctioned canons of behaviorthat could in principle originate outside of formalreligion altogether.18 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

own style: Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.I believe ½rmly that anything worth doing isworth doing light-heartedly; and I could pointto Bob Merton as an adequate demonstration.I said that I had never been formally associatedwith him. That is true. But I did overlap withhis wife Harriet for some years on the board ofthe Center for Advanced Study in the BehavioralSciences. Sharing breakfasts with Bob andHarriet in the hotel dining room before thosemeetings taught me what I wanted to be whenI grew up. I don’t even care that I never madeit. He used to say that he would sometime liketo write a joint paper with his son Bob and withme. He wasn’t sure about the topic, but it shouldbe signed Robert Merton Duo and Robert MertonSolow. Two thirds of the authorship of thatunwritten paper are here, but the best third ismissing.© 2003 by Robert C. Merton and Robert M.Solow, respectively.1.Robert C. Merton and Robert M.Solow12.Harriet Zuckerman (Andrew W.Mellon Foundation) and AcademyPresident Patricia Meyer Spacks3.Barbara Rosenkrantz (Harvard University)and Werner Sollors (HarvardUniversity)234.Victor Brudney (Harvard Law School),Patricia Albjerg Graham (HarvardUniversity), and Loren Graham (MIT)5.Visiting Scholars Jonathan Hansenand Adam Webb4 520 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

McCarthy had among others denouncedGeorge Marshall, Eisenhower’s respected patron,secretary of defense under Truman, ina sixty-thousand-word speech, which he hadpublished as a book. This was only one of thethings for which Eisenhower could not forgivehim. McCarthy, using his typical, ingeniouslypoisoned turns of speech, asserted he did notknow “whether General Marshall was awarehe was implementing the will of Stalin ....IfMarshall was merely stupid, the laws of probabilitywould dictate that part of his decisionswould serve America’s interests ...I do notthink that this monstrous perversion of soundand understandable national policy was accidental.”In other words, Marshall was a traitor.The national media, the major columnists, andthe leading newspapers regularly exposed andattacked McCarthy, but with little effect. It wasa rare senator who disputed him, and a numberof those who did had been defeated in the electionof 1952. This was the election that broughtEisenhower to the presidency, the Republicansto a majority in the Senate, and McCarthy tothe chairmanship of a formally minor committee,but one from which he could conduct hisamazing terrorization of a good part of America’sruling class.And terrorization it was. John Foster Dulles,Secretary of State under Eisenhower, asking asubordinate who had come under attack to resign,said, “Don’t you know I went through thiskind of thing?” (As a trustee of the CarnegieEndowment for International Peace, Dulleshad defended Alger Hiss, the president of theEndowment.) “You can’t pacify these people.There’s no reasoning with these people.” (Iquote here and elsewhere in this article fromDavid M. Oshinsky, A Conspiracy So Immense:The World of Joe McCarthy [New York: FreePress, 1983], an excellent account of SenatorMcCarthy’s rise and fall.) Leaders of Americanindustry, leading newspaper publishers, friends,and his brother Milton urged Eisenhower todo something. As the board chairman of GeneralElectric wrote to him after a trip to Europe,“People in high and low places see in him a potentialHitler . . . the stature of your administration. . . is impaired in the countries I visited.The impression of abject appeasement shouldbe corrected, not only for general consumptionbut because I have never seen the morale ofState Department people, at home and abroad,so shattered.” Walter Lippmann, the influentialand statesmanlike columnist, wrote, “Mc-Carthy’s influence has grown as the Presidenthas appeased him . . . His power will cease togrow and will diminish when he is resisted,and it has been shown to our people that thosewe look to for leadership and to preserve our22 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004McCarthy had beenlaunched into a prominencehe knew how to exploit byhis charges that the Trumanadministration harboredCommunists in the StateDepartment and elsewhere.institutions are not afraid of him.” But as Eisenhowersaid on a number of occasions, “Ijust will not–I refuse to–get into the gutterwith that guy.”Looking at McCarthy’s record and impact duringthe four years of his power, one is temptedto paraphrase the famous line from Butch Cassidyand the Sundance Kid: “Who is this guy?”We cannot imagine anyone today exercisingsuch near universal intimidation.But ½fty years ago the McCarthy phenomenoncollapsed within a few months. McCarthy hadunwisely appointed Roy Cohn, a young NewYork lawyer who had been a federal prosecutorin the trials of leaders of the Communist Partyand in the Rosenberg trial, as chief counsel forhis investigating committee. Cohn’s friend G.David Schine–Harvard College, Adams House,and scion of a wealthy family–came alongwith Cohn to work for the committee. After ahighly publicized investigation of the UnitedStates Information Agency (usia) librariesabroad, which helped bring McCarthy to theattention and astonishment of a European public,Cohn began investigating presumed Communists–allof whom were already well knownto the Army–who had worked in the ArmySignal Corps research facility in New Jersey.Most of them had already been dismissed.Cohn’s investigators then ran into the case ofIrving Peress, a dentist just recently called tothe service. He had been an undergraduate atCity College, where he had known Julius Rosenbergand Morton Sobell. This was red meatto McCarthy–an almost or likely Communistin the Army, even if all he did was dentistry!The Army was in the process of releasing Peressfor security reasons. But it was slow and bureaucraticin its procedures, and McCarthy hopedto make something of this. At the same time,G. David Schine had been drafted into the Army,and Cohn was busy harassing top civilianand military ½gures in the Army to get specialtreatment for his friend, who, he asserted, wascrucial to the committee’s investigations. Asso often happens in congressional investigations,the issue of executive privilege arose:could the committee badger of½cials in the executivebranch on just what they had done inthe Peress and in other cases? On February 24,the Secretary of the Army, meeting with SenatorMcCarthy, had caved in and agreed thecommittee could. On this occasion, The Timesof London wrote, “Senator McCarthy this afternoonachieved what General Burgoyne andGeneral Cornwallis never achieved–the completesurrender of the American army.” PhilipGraham, publisher of The Washington Post, wroteto Sherman Adams, Eisenhower’s chief of staff,“do believe me that if you do not break nowwith this monster you will become his pawns.”Finally Eisenhower decided action had to betaken. With his approval it was agreed a fullrecord of Cohn’s obnoxious efforts to get preferencein the Army for Schine should be prepared:Cohn’s behavior could be the weak linkin McCarthy’s armor. On March 11, on ordersfrom the White House, this record of telephonecalls and abuse was delivered to all the membersof the McCarthy committee. The clearimplication was that the motivation for theMcCarthy-Army investigations was to put pressureon the Army to release Schine from Armyduties. In response, McCarthy released a set ofpredated memoranda, which clearly had justbeen prepared, whose theme was that the Armywas persecuting Schine to put pressure onMcCarthy to back off from his own investigationinto the Army’s handling of Communists.Someone was lying, and so we come to that familiarplace so often reached in great momentsof American politics, when the issue becomesnot who is right and who is wrong, but who istelling the truth and who is not.The Army selected a special counsel for thehearings, and so Joseph Welch, of Grinnell College,Harvard Law School, and Hale & Dorr ofour own Boston, went to Washington to encounterthe phenomenon of a McCarthy hearing.The hearings were televised and reached anenormous audience. The key moment came onJune 9, 1954. Welch had brought an assistantwith him–a young lawyer from Hale & Dorr,Fred Fisher, who told him that he had beena member of the National Lawyers Guild, aCommunist-dominated lawyers group. Welchsent him back to Boston. But the McCarthypeople had already found out (The New YorkTimes had already told the story), and Welchwas worried. He engineered a deal with Cohn:Welch wouldn’t raise the issue of Cohn’s ownrecord of evasive maneuvers to avoid the draft,and Cohn would not bring up Fred Fisher.

Communist influence,particularly in intellectuallife, was greater than modalliberal opinion recognized;despite that, the Americanresponse was indeed hystericaland excessive.But McCarthy couldn’t resist: “in view of Mr.Welch’s request that the information be givenonce we know of anyone who might be performingany work for the Communist Party, Ithink we should tell him that he has in his law½rm a young lawyer named Fisher whom herecommended, incidentally, to do work on thiscommittee, who has been for a number of yearsa member of an organization which was named,oh, years and years ago, as the legal bulwark ofthe Communist Party ...I am not asking youat this time why you tried to foist him on thiscommittee ....” And so on, in vintage McCarthy.Welch had of course not recommendedFisher for work on the committee, and Fisherhad left the National Lawyers Guild some yearsbefore–but no matter.Welch was prepared: “Until this moment, Senator,I think I never really gauged your recklessnessand cruelty. . . . Little did I dream youcould be so reckless and so cruel as to do an injuryto that lad. It is true he is still with Hale &Dorr. It is true that he will continue to be withHale & Dorr. It is, I regret to say, equally truethat he shall always bear a scar needlessly inflictedby you. If it were in my power to forgiveyou for your reckless cruelty, I would do so. Butyour forgiveness will have to come from someoneother than me.”But McCarthy returned to the attack. Welchresponded: “Let us not assassinate this lad further,Senator. You have done enough. Have youno sense of decency, sir, at long last?” Welch’sperformance–and he was a performer–receiveda thunderous burst of applause. To quoteDavid Oshinsky, whose account I am following,“McCarthy . . . knew he had come off poorly,but he did not seem to understand why. ‘Whatdid I do?’ he kept asking the people aroundhim. ‘What did I do?’”I think had our meeting today been simply labeled“Have you no sense of decency?” withno subtitle, most of this audience would haveknown what we were going to talk about. It isa famous quotation.Oshinsky writes, “The reviews were now pouringin and they were not kind to McCarthy. Itwasn’t the Fisher incident or any single mistake:it was rather the cumulative impressionof his day-to-day performance–his windyspeeches, his endless interruptions, his frighteningoutbursts, his crude personal attacks. InWisconsin newspapers long sympathetic toMcCarthy were describing his behavior as ‘brutal’and ‘inexcusable.’ In Washington Republicanleaders were cutting his speaking engagementsand his role in the 1954 campaign.” Hisapproval ratings were also dropping–from 50percent “favorable” in February to 34 percentin June.In the Senate, negotiations for some kind ofmotion of criticism proceeded, and led eventuallyto a vote on a motion of “censure,” sixtysevento twenty-two. McCarthy was censuredspeci½cally for his attacks on fellow senatorsand Senate procedures, for his failure to cooperatewith the very ½rst committee set up toexamine his charges in 1950 and his abuse ofits members, and for his attack on the selectcommittee that had been assembled to examinethe question of his own censure. He had attackedthis committee as the “unwitting handmaiden,”“involuntary agent,” and “attorneysin fact” of the Communist Party. These attacks,the resolution read, “tended to bring the Senateinto dishonor and disrepute, to obstruct theconstitutional processes of the Senate, and toimpair its dignity.”McCarthy was only forty-six, but he had beenin and out of the Bethesda Naval Hospital forvarious ailments exacerbated by his drinking.With the 1954 elections, the Democrats regainedcontrol of the Senate and McCarthy lost thechairmanship of his committee and control ofits staff. His departure from the front pages wasas rapid as his ascent to dominate them in 1950.His fellow senators now ignored or shunnedhim. Supreme Court decisions were meanwhilelimiting the reach of congressional investigationsand of state sedition laws, and limitingdismissals of faculty members who had takenthe Fifth Amendment. The atmosphere of hysteriaover American Communists in which Mc-Carthy had flourished began to lighten. McCarthydied on May 2, 1957. But he had given hisname to a phenomenon, and we have to ask,what did it all mean?In all this, I have as yet said nothing about Communism–andindeed much of the writing aboutMcCarthy has little to say about Communism:McCarthy, rather, becomes the main issue,which is why many anti-Communists, includingWhittaker Chambers, believed he hamperedthe cause. McCarthy had almost nothing to dowith the conflicts that divided the country onthe issue of Communism in American life: theHiss trials, the Rosenberg case, the trials ofCommunist leaders under the Smith Act, theinvestigation into Hollywood, the loyalty oathson college and university campuses–all thesefor the most part preceded him. All his blusterabout Communists and Communist influenceproduced only one major case, the indictmentof Owen Lattimore, the China scholar, for perjury–acharge that was eventually dismissed.And yet McCarthy’s name has, for many of us,come to embody the anti-Communism of thelate 1940s and 1950s.So the original question that McCarthyism obscuredremains: What was the weight of Communismand Communists in American life?Did it warrant to any degree the hysteria–wecan call it that–over Communists that prevailedduring the McCarthy years?We do have to note that some very alarmingthings were going on in the world as McCarthyburst onto the scene, and these certainly affectedAmerican reactions. During the very year inwhich McCarthy became a front-page phenomenon,Alger Hiss was found guilty of perjury–in fact, of being a Communist spy; the UnitedStates decided to build the hydrogen bomb,perhaps in response to the shocking discoverya few months before that the Soviet Union hadan atom bomb; Klaus Fuchs was arrested as anatom spy; the Rosenbergs were arrested andvarious persons thought to be part of theirespionage group fled the country before theycould be arrested; North Korea launched amassive and destructive attack on South Korea;and, by the end of the year, American troopswere in retreat before a huge Chinese counterattack.It was generally believed that the Sovietshad acquired the atom bomb through Communistespionage. We were engaged not onlyin a cold war heightened by the fear of nuclearwar, but in a real war in Korea, in which Americanswere being killed at a greater rate thanlater in the Vietnam War. How do we slot thereal issue of Communism into the McCarthyitephenomenon?When I ½rst agreed to revisit McCarthyism forthis meeting, I thought I would certainly ½nddiscussion of this issue prominent. I thoughtof the very well known, indeed notorious, commentof Irving Kristol in an article on McCarthyismin Commentary in March 1953: “there isone thing the American people know aboutSenator McCarthy; he, like them, is unequivocallyanti-Communist. About the spokesmenfor American liberalism, they feel they knowno such thing.” This article was a sensation inthe circles in which I lived at the time, NewBulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 23

York intellectuals. I was so alarmed about whatit would do to Commentary’s reputation amongliberals–Kristol and I were both editors ofCommentary at the time–that I immediatelyrushed to write an article for Commentary thatwas more unequivocally anti-McCarthy. Butit seems these agitations, however large theyloomed in my life, and the life of many of thosehere I would guess, did not make much of amark in the larger McCarthy debates. In thehalf dozen books on McCarthy I have consulted,I have found to my surprise no reference atall to Kristol’s article or to that quotation, andvery little discussion of the real scale of Communistinfluence in American life and of whatresponse it warranted.But isn’t that the issue? If we are interested inunderstanding McCarthy and McCarthyism,don’t we have to take account of the reality ofCommunism in America ½rst? Dwight Macdonald,of Partisan Review and Politics, whosesubsequent political course was very differentfrom Kristol’s, had very much the same thingto say at the time (as I learned from GeoffreyWheatcroft’s review of Ted Morgan’s book onMcCarthyism). Macdonald wrote, “the liberalshave never honestly confronted their illusionsin the 30’s and 40’s about Communismbut have instead merely interposed a disingenuousdefense, a blanket denial to McCarthy’sequally sweeping attack” (New York Times BookReview, January 4, 2004). Leslie Fiedler had madethe same point even more sharply: Liberalshad accepted the paradox “that (a) there werereally no Communists, just the hallucinationsof ‘witch hunters,’ and (b) if there were Communists,they were, despite their shrillnessand bad manners, fundamentally on the sideof justice” (“Hiss, Chambers, and the Age ofInnocence,” Commentary, December 1950).There were three issues intermingled here.One concerned the weight of Communism invarious sectors of American life and the speci½crole of Communist espionage in weakeningthe United States during the Cold War withthe Soviet Union. The second was whether thisrole justi½ed the huge crackdown on Communistsand anyone connected with Communistinfluencedorganizations during this period.The third was whether American liberal opinionhad been derelict in judging the signi½canceof Communist influence and in guiding opinionon it. All big questions, still disputed. Theshort answers I would give are, respectively:Communist influence, particularly in intellectuallife, was greater than modal liberal opinionrecognized; despite that, the American responsewas indeed hysterical and excessive; butKristol, Macdonald, and Fiedler had a point–liberals had been derelict in recognizing the24 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004true nature of Communism and Communistinfluence, and that helped discredit liberalismin American public opinion. But I believe wein the New York anti-Communist world madetoo much of liberalism’s response to Communismat a time when the greater problem was tobring American opinion to some kind of reasonablebalance on the kind of threat posed byAmerican Communists.Anthony LewisI thought I might begin by saying where I wason the day that Joseph Welch made his famousplea. It was the day my ½rst child was born. Ihad been covering the Army-McCarthy hearingsfor The Washington Daily News–a paperthat, alas, no longer exists–but I missed thatday.Even for those of us who lived through McCarthy’stime close up, it is shocking now to hearor even read his words. I did a bit of readingin preparation for this discussion, especiallyRichard Rovere’s wonderful book, Senator JoeMcCarthy. When Nat cited a few quotes fromit earlier, I noticed that there was an undercurrentof laughter at some points. It’s so extreme,it’s so absurd, that you’re tempted to laugh; butit wasn’t funny. I think many of the people inthis room were there, and you know it wasn’tfunny. Read those words again, as I just have,and their brutality is still shocking.I’ll give another quote about George Marshall.Nat spoke quite rightly of Marshall as a principaltarget of Joe McCarthy. I don’t have totell you that Marshall was a man of enormousreputation: Chief of Staff of the Army duringWorld War II, the person who really organizedthe American military campaigns, Secretaryof State, the author of the Marshall Plan, and,above all, in virtually everyone’s mind, a symbolof honor. Here is what McCarthy said ofMarshall: “A man steeped in falsehood ...whohas recourse to the lie whenever it suits his convenience....Part ofa conspiracy so immenseand an infamy so black as to dwarf any previousventure in the history of man . . . [His activitiesshow] a pattern which ½nds his decision. . . always and invariably serving the worldpolicy of the Kremlin.”The power McCarthy held at his zenith is hardto believe. Rovere writes: “He held two Americanpresidents captive–or as nearly captive asany presidents of the United States have everbeen held.” Truman and Eisenhower, from 1950through 1954, could never act without weighingthe effect of their plans upon McCarthy andthe forces he led; in consequence, there weretimes when because of this man, they could notact at all. Yet at his peak, 50 percent of Americanspolled said they had a “favorable” opinionof him and another 21 percent had no opinion.William F. Buckley observed at the time, “Mc-Carthyism is a movement around which menof good will and stern morality can close ranks.”I remember one more quote, because it meantsomething to me at the time. During the 1952presidential election campaign, when AdlaiStevenson was opposing Eisenhower, McCarthycalled Stevenson “a graduate of Dean Acheson’sCollege of Cowardly Communist Containment.”He had a way with alliteration. I want to mentionone other example of McCarthy’s style. HeTruman and Eisenhower,from 1950 through 1954,could never act withoutweighing the effect of theirplans upon McCarthy andthe forces he led.always used to speak of “twenty years of treason”:twenty years going back, twenty yearsof Democratic power, four terms of Rooseveltand four after Truman was elected on his own.During the Army-McCarthy hearings, at onepoint, he suddenly spoke of twenty-one yearsof treason. That was a message about Eisenhower.Nat has spoken of the reasons underlying Americans’susceptibility to McCarthy’s demagogy:the fear of Communism, the reality of Sovietextravagant aggressiveness in the world, andAmerica’s fear of that power. But it wasn’t the½rst time in American history that fear has paralyzedAmerican political thinking. Fear of foreignor alien-seeming power has been a periodiccharacteristic of American life from the verybeginning. In 1798, Congress passed and PresidentAdams signed into law the Sedition Act,which made it a crime to criticize the Presidentof the United States. It did so on the argumentthat the statute was needed to combat FrenchJacobin terror: the notion, at the time, thatFrench Jacobins were going to in½ltrate theUnited States, a brand-new country, and overthrowits government. It wasn’t just radicalswho held that view. Abigail Adams, who I supposemost people in this room would regardas rather admirable and sensible, spoke of theJeffersonians, who were her husband’s opponents,as the “French party.”

Sam TanenhausIt’s a pleasure to speak after two of my intellectualheroes, although I’m going to disagreewith them a bit. I want to begin by asking a differentquestion: Try to imagine what it was liketo be someone who wasn’t afraid of Joe Mc-Carthy because, as we’ve heard, about half thecountry wasn’t. In fact, 65 percent of the RepublicanParty supported him at his height.On the Senate censure vote–sixty-seven totwenty-two for censure–the Republican Partywas split in half, with twenty-two voting notto censure McCarthy. To the very end, he retainedthe loyalty of some of the most influentialRepublicans in the United States, includingthe Republican Senator who would become,in effect, his heir as leader of the conservativemovement in America: Barry Goldwater.Why was half the country impressed by Mc-Carthy, or, at least, why did they respond favorablyto him? There are several explanations.The reference to twenty years of treason resonatedwith American conservatives in the early1950s. They had been concerned about fdr’smanagement of the country: ½rst, the appropriationof the nation’s economic forces, thena massive military build-up, and, in 1940, theunprecedented run for a third term. Speakingin support of Wendell Wilkie, the Republicancandidate for president in 1940, Herbert Hooversaid: “We have seen the rise of totalitarianismin Germany, Russia, and Japan, and nowwe see it here at home. We see a president whohas nationalized the economy, who has eliminatedpolitical opposition, and who now willcreate a military-industrial state.” Well it happened,only it happened a generation later, duringthe Cold War.Tony Lewis quite rightly mentioned a series ofrepressive acts that were committed by administrations,going all the way back to the SeditionAct in 1798; but he left out the McWilliams case.In 1942, fdr decided to prosecute several dozenAmericans–some of them fascists, some ofthem fascist sympathizers, some of them merelyopponents of intervention–on the groundsthat they were Nazi spies. A judge threw thecase out of court two years later. In their 1954book, McCarthy and His Enemies, William F.Buckley and L. Brent Bozell wrote, “Wherewere the liberals 15 years ago, when those whowere on the right, some fascists, some not fascists,stood in the dock and were called thesame names that McCarthy now calls liberals?”McCarthy was not, in fact, the inventor butthe galvanic force, the inheritor, of a kind ofrhetoric that had been growing in American26 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004politics for over a generation. We have alreadyheard about Dwight Macdonald’s quite nuanceddiscussions of McCarthyism. Macdonaldpublished a book, Henry Wallace: The Man andthe Myth, in time for Wallace’s third-party candidacy,a candidacy that seemed to be–or wasaccused of being by Macdonald, among others–aCommunist front. It was the last greatgasp of so-called fellow-traveling in Americanpolitics. At the very end of that little book, Macdonaldsays, “Henry Wallace may not be a Sovietagent, but he acts like one”–a statementthat is precisely the same formulation that JoeMcCarthy made about George Marshall, DeanAcheson, and Owen Lattimore.Let me say a few words about Owen Lattimore,a China specialist and a journalist who taughtbriefly at Johns Hopkins University. Lattimorewas a kind of ad-hoc informal advisor to theState Department who traveled to Russia in1944 with Henry Wallace when Wallace wasVice President. Lattimore was the subject ofone of McCarthy’s most notorious lies. Whenpressed to reveal the identities of the 205 Communistshe claimed were in the State Department,McCarthy responded: “Well, I’m goingto identify the most important espionage agentin America, the guy who runs the whole show,Alger Hiss’s boss.” It was Owen Lattimore, whomight have been called a fellow-traveling intellectual,but never an espionage agent. WhenMcCarthy and his defenders were challengedon this statement, their defense was preciselythe one that Dwight Macdonald had made inthe case of Henry Wallace: “Who cares whetherOwen Lattimore is really a Communist agent,since he acts like one?”–that is, he supportedthe purges, defended the show trials, and hadedited a magazine that included documents onCommunism stolen from the State Department.These examples further underline McCarthy’senormous power, which both Nat and Tonymentioned earlier. However, I would point outthat during the Eisenhower presidency, JohnFoster Dulles was more paralyzed than Eisenhower.Eisenhower took of½ce in January 1953and within about six months or so, he had begunthe process of neutralizing McCarthy. Actually,by the time the hearings began, McCarthywas more or less ½nished. His popularitypeaked in the very end of 1953 and in any case,never exceeded 50 percent.Both my fellow panelists are quite right to saythat McCarthy was not a “Hitlerian” ½gure. DidMcCarthy terrorize America? I think that’s anopen question. Did he cause a great deal of damage?Absolutely. Did he destroy reputations?No question. Was he a bane for democracy?Certainly. But I’m not sure to what extent hereally threatened the fabric of society. The pollsshow that, by the end of 1954, only 1 percent ofAmericans thought Communism and threatsto civil liberties were a major concern in thecountry.The question of interventionism was reallythe great cause of the American Right, and itcontinues to be. In his new book, Reds: McCarthyismin Twentieth-Century America, Ted Morgandescribed the most interesting, but not surprising,new ½nding about McCarthy, namely thathe was an isolationist leading up to World WarII. McCarthy came from Wisconsin, a real centerof antiwar sentiment in World War II witha large German population. In addition, theMcCarthy was not, in fact,the inventor but the galvanicforce, the inheritor, of akind of rhetoric that hadbeen growing in Americanpolitics for over a generation.famous progressive political family the La Folletteswere antiwar. McCarthy was a state judgein Wisconsin when he made one of his ½rststatements that gained him public attention.During a visit to Washington, D.C., shortly beforePearl Harbor, he denounced Congress, includingthe Wisconsin delegation, for tryingto push the country into war.One of the mysteries to me, as I write aboutAmerican conservatism, is how quickly andseamlessly the American Right moved from anisolationist, anti-interventionist position leadingup to Pearl Harbor to an extreme interventionistposition afterwards, particularly whenit came to the Soviet Union. Why was it that,suddenly, conservatives wanted to ½ght the“great war” they hadn’t wanted to ½ght before?The answer is that most of them didn’t. RobertTaft and Joe McCarthy both opposed the KoreanWar initially. Yet some of us remember thatwhen Douglas MacArthur wanted to take thewar to China, Harry Truman ½red him, andMacArthur became a martyr to the Right. Infact, the American conservative movementopposed almost all those interventions earlyon, and McCarthy identi½ed the perfect surrogateenemy. McCarthy’s approach was, in itscrude way, a very clever formulation. Basically,he said, “Why send American soldiers to diein Korea when all the Communists we have tofear are here at home? If we can get Dean Achesonand George Marshall and all the other bad

McCarthy actually took thelanguage of the anti-CommunistLeft and turned itinto the language of theextremist anti-CommunistRight.guys out of the State Department, they won’tlure us into these death traps overseas.”In other words, isolationism never really wentaway; it remained one of the submerged themesin American foreign policy that is still evidenttoday. Isolationism was reborn as unilateralism.In fact, the two consort fairly easily. In theyears leading up to World War II, the antiwarargument from the Right was that we did notwant to involve ourselves in European wars. Itactually doesn’t take a great leap from that tosay we, alone, will ½ght the Cold War: We’lloppose nato and the Marshall Plan as, again,the conservatives did and we’ll make it oursingle crusade against the enemy. And we areseeing this again in the war in Iraq.In his presentation, Nat quoted a 1953 commentby Irving Kristol to the effect that theAmerican people knew that McCarthy was ananti-Communist but “about the spokesmenfor American liberalism, they knew no suchthing.” Last summer, William Kristol, Irving’sson and the editor of the Weekly Standard, wrotea column in The Washington Post on the Democrats’views on Iraq that included this line:“The American people know George Bush will½ght a war against terror. About Dick Gephardt,they know no such thing.”The important point is that McCarthy sustainedthis rhetoric: He actually took the language ofthe anti-Communist Left and turned it into thelanguage of the extremist anti-CommunistRight; now it has become the standard currencyof the American Right. If you were an admirerof McCarthy at the time of the hearingwe just saw, you didn’t believe that he got theworst of the exchange with Joseph Welch. And–I would suggest–some of the Right still don’tthink so. If you read Ann Coulter’s new book,Treason, McCarthy is a hero. He not only winsthat exchange, but he becomes the leader of thenew conservative movement. In a way, she’sright.The subject of my next book, Bill Buckley,joined McCarthy’s cause because Buckley knewexactly what McCarthy was and saw how effectivehe was politically. McCarthy gave a tingeof populism to smoldering sentiments, whichled New Dealers like Walter Winchell to becomerabid McCarthyites. He sounded like theold leftists. He borrowed their language in adown-market version. The New York journalistMurray Kempton once reported on a bookpublishing party for Buckley and Bozell’s Mc-Carthy and His Enemies, where the star attractionswere Joe McCarthy and Roy Cohn. Heobserved that among the guests most fascinatedby McCarthy were old ex-Communists includingMax Eastman. They came to see JoeMcCarthy, because McCarthy kept the old½ght alive. He had the same enemies that theold Left had: the well-bred, Ivy-League-educated,establishment-reared intellectual class.In the 1930s, it had come from the Left; now itwas coming from the Right.© 2004 by Nathan Glazer, Anthony Lewis, andSam Tanenhaus, respectively.1.Nathan Glazer2.Anthony Lewis3.Sam Tanenhaus1 2 34.Leon Eisenberg (Harvard MedicalSchool) and Arthur Pardee (Dana-Farber Cancer Institute)5.Richard Parker (Harvard University)and John Shattuck (John F. KennedyLibrary Foundation)4 5Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 27

Project UpdateAcademy SponsorsHumanities ResearchThrough the Initiative for the Humanities,the Academy is advancingour understanding of the stateof the humanities today by developingthe research and statisticaltools necessary for sound policymaking.In the initial discussionsleading to the creation of the Initiative,many Academy Fellowsidenti½ed a need for gathering reliabledata on the humanities andpointed to the influential Scienceand Engineering Indicators as an invaluabletool for decision-making.A similar tool for the humanitiesis long overdue, according to AcademyEditor Steven Marcus (ColumbiaUniversity), who co-chairs theoverall planning committee of theInitiative.Before a set of Humanities Indicatorscan be developed, a number ofmethodological and de½nitionalissues need to be resolved. To addressthese methodological issues,the Academy convened a group ofexperts from humanities associationsand educational research centersand commissioned researchon undergraduate career paths andon the level of ½nancial supportwithin the colleges and universitiesfor the humanities.Two of these studies are now complete.In “Humanities Pathways:A Framework for Assessing Post-Baccalaureate Opportunities forHumanities Graduates,” ProfessorEdward St. John and co-authorOntario Wooden (both from IndianaUniversity) have examined avariety of existing federal surveysto tease out conclusions about thefuture of undergraduates who takehumanities degrees. Decisionsabout careers or further educationin graduate or professional schoolscannot be explained without referenceto a large number of variables– including the availability28 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004of ½nancial aid, student loan burdens,family background, and previouswork experience. But it ispossible to draw some broad generalizationsabout patterns of undergraduateenrollments and latercareer choices:• The percentage of college graduateschoosing humanities majorsdeclined substantially from the1970s to the mid 1990s. However,in recent years, the humanitieshave regained some “market share”and now represent about 8 to 10percent of all undergraduate degrees(see ½gure 1);• Humanities graduates who enterthe workforce with a B.A. degreetypically earn less than graduateswith degrees in all other ½eldsexcept teaching and social work;• A recent survey of the class of2000 found that only 69 percentof all humanities graduates foundfull-time employment a year aftergraduation. While this ½gure is animprovement over the 59 percentemployment rate reported in 1991,humanities graduates still displayone of the highest unemploymentrates among all disciplines.Perhaps the most important ½ndingin St. John and Wooden’s surveyof the data is that the undergraduatedegree in the humanities,as the ½gure for full-time employmentsuggests, is becoming merelya stepping stone to advancedprofessional degrees. “Havingundergraduate preparation in thehumanities provides advancedproblem-solving skills that arecritical to many professions,” St.John and Wooden note, “but theseprofessions now usually requireadvanced degrees.”And, despite the discouraging½ndings about immediate postemployment,the authors pointout that humanities majors tendto fare as well as, if not better than,other undergraduate degree holdersin competitive examinationsfor admission to law, medical, andbusiness schools.The authors also address the questionof how to invest scarce fundsfor further research in this area.St. John and Wooden suggest thatexisting federal databases, especiallythe on-going surveys in theBaccalaureate and Beyond seriesconducted by the National Centerfor Educational Statistics (a unitof the U.S. Department of Education)could be better employed todiscern patterns of course taking,post-graduate employment, andgraduate education that may beunique to the humanities. Theycautiously suggest that with thesaturation of the academic marketfor Ph.D.s in the humanities,students might be better servedboth by better undergraduate advisingand by new hybrid graduateprograms that would combineacademic preparation in a speci½cdiscipline with internships inother professional areas besidesuniversity teaching. A key goal ofnew research studies should beto analyze the linkages betweenchoice of graduate ½elds, the typesof undergraduate institutions attended,and post-graduate employment.Despite the relative optimism ofsome observers about the careerprospects for humanities majors,critics of the contemporary universityhave argued that the hu-Continued on page 29Figure 1: Humanities as a Percentage of all Bachelor’s Degrees in the United States, 1951–200218%16%14%12%10%8%6%4%2%0% 1950 1955 1960 1965 1970 1975 1980 1985 1990 1995 2000All humanities, includingreligion, some arts, ethnicand gender studies, etc.(consistent data only availablefrom 1970)English, history, foreignlanguages and literature,and philosophyAmerican Academy of Arts and Sciences, 2004. Sources: 1986–2002: U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Educational Statistics,ipeds survey [Computer File]. 1968–1985: U.S. Dept. of Ed., nces, hegis survey [computer ½le]. Inter-university Consortiumfor Political and Social Research, Ann Arbor, mi (distributor). 1948–1966: U.S. Dept. of Ed., nces, “Earned Degrees” series. Note: EducationDepartment data on total degrees before 1961 counted all ½rst professional degrees along with bachelor’s degrees: Academy numbersdisaggregate bachelor’s degrees from 1948–1961 by extrapolating historical ratios of bachelor’s to ½rst professional degrees.

Iraqcontinued from page 1equivalent of the Center for DiseaseControl who had received noorders to secure the building despitereports of looters carryingaway live hiv virus. Galbraithdescribed his own tour of the abandonedForeign Ministry, where vitalinformation about Iraq’s weaponsof mass destruction may havebeen stored. He saw documentsstrewn everywhere and foundlooters “lighting small ½res” withoriginal government treaties.“If it can be said that the UnitedStates lost Iraq, it did so in thechaotic days of April 2003 whenU.S. forces permitted the systematicand preventable looting of everysigni½cant public institutionin Baghdad,” Galbraith said. Hebelieves the looting had profoundeffects. “It demoralized the veryIraqi professionals on whom wewould count to rebuild the countrybecause, after all, virtually allof them are associated with publicinstitutions. And more important,it served to undermine Iraqicon½dence in and respect for theU.S. occupation authorities.”The three-state solution that Galbraithnow regards as the best conceivableoutcome of the war willpermit each of Iraq’s “major constituentcommunities [to] have asmuch of what they want as is possible.”It is a solution that will comeat a cost, however. “Western-stylehuman rights are likely to takeroot only in the Kurdish north,” hesaid, “and in the south the legalstatus of women in Iraq is likely toFront (left to right): Catherine Galbraith, John Kenneth Galbraith,Janet Axelrod (Cambridge Public Library); back (left to right): LouisCabot (Cabot-Wellington, LLC), Henry Rosovsky (Harvard University),Jeremy Knowles (Harvard University), Carl Kaysen (MIT), and MatthewMeselson (Harvard University)be set back even as compared tothe Saddam Hussein regime.”In December of 2002, the Academypublished War with Iraq: Costs,Consequences, and Alternatives. Copiesare available on the Academy’swebsite at Researchcontinued from page 28manities are losing ground notonly in the labor marketplace but,more alarmingly, inside the universityitself. A second Academysponsoredresearch paper, “Fundingthe Core: Understanding theFinancial Contexts of AcademicDepartments in the Humanities,”by Professor James Hearn (VanderbiltUniversity) and his graduateassistant, Alexander Gorbunov,examines the methodologicalchallenges involved in measuringinternal university ½nancingof humanities departments. Hearncautions that it is easy to draw invidiouscomparisons between academicunits if cross-subsidizationor other hidden subsidies are notcalculated. State subsidies at publicuniversities, recovery of universityoverhead through indirectcost rates, and the allocation ofgeneral endowment funds mustbe taken into consideration alongwith the number of student credithours and tuition revenues. In theend, Hearn and Gorbunov ½ndthat no existing study, includingan in-depth examination of thecosts of instructional time at threehundred colleges and universitiescommissioned by the U.S. Departmentof Education, adequatelycovers all of these factors.Even with the complexities of internalaccounting, there are someareas of agreement. The Delawarestudy of instructional costs, theextensive review of three hundredparticipating institutions mentionedearlier, found that humanitiesdepartments consistentlyranked among the lowest in costsper student credit hour. At thesame time, Hearn and Gorbunovnote that the variation among humanitiesdisciplines is often substantial,and that departmentsteaching large survey courses havean inherent advantage in thesecomparisons. So, while the humanitiesas a whole remain amongthe least expensive units withinthe modern research university,some instructional programs–notably in foreign languages andthe performing arts–have muchhigher costs associated with theneed in these ½elds for intensivefaculty-student interactions.Hearn and Gorbunov think that acarefully controlled comparativestudy, ideally surveying a range ofinstitutions and not just researchuniversities, would be the best wayto fully understand how these factorsinteract. Before such an examinationcan be launched, casestudies could be especially usefulnext steps in re½ning a researchmodel. The Academy has identi½edone such study, an in-depth look atthe University of Washington byDonald Summers, which the Academywill publish as a companionpiece to the methodology paper.Summers, who serves as directorof development for the humanitiesat the University of Washington,employs a number of measures,including comparisons of instructionalcosts, teaching loads, andstudent demand, to look at the statusof the humanities at one wellregardedpublic university. On thewhole, Summers’ existing datatends to support the more pessimisticclaims about the humanities,but he intends to build uponhis case study by obtaining comparabledata from other publicresearch universities.The Academy is also interested inexternal sources of support for thehumanities and is working withthe Foundation Center to create along-term study of private supportfor the humanities. While FoundationCenter reports on funding forthe arts include some partial dataabout the humanities, they employa very limited de½nition of thehumanities that excludes certain½elds (such as foreign languagestudy and comparative religion)normally viewed as intrinsic partsof the humanities. The Academyhas commissioned an analysis offoundation funding from 1992to 2002, to be conducted by theFoundation Center, that takes acomprehensive view of the humanitiesat both academic and nonacademicinstitutions. The results,which will be released by the Academyand the Foundation Centerin the early summer, should providea useful baseline for subsequentstudies.Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 29

Around the CountryUniversity of California, BerkeleyOn February 27–28, the Academyand the Earl Warren Legal Instituteat the University of California,Berkeley, co-sponsored a conferenceon Earl Warren and the WarrenCourt: A Fifty-Year Retrospective.Organized by Harry Scheiber, thesymposium, held at Boalt Hall onthe Berkeley campus, opened witha keynote address by Jesse Choper,followed by a set of lectures byleading constitutional lawyers, legalhistorians, and political scientists,including several membersof the Academy. The meeting alsoincluded a reception for confer-ence participants and AcademyFellows in the Berkeley area.The summer 2004 Bulletin will featurepapers by Philip Frickey andGordon Silverstein and commentariesby Nelson W. Polsby andNeil Devins, which were presentedat a special panel session on“Congress and the Court in theWarren Years.” Both Frickey andPolsby are members of an ongoingAcademy study group analyzingthe relationship of the Courtand Congress today.Jesse Choper, Philip Frickey, and Harry ScheiberLawrence Evans and Karl PisterUniversity of California, San DiegoGordon Gill, the new co-chair ofthe Western Center, Robert Mc-Cormick Adams, co-chair of theCommittee on Studies, and LeslieBerlowitz, Executive Of½cer ofthe Academy, greeted Fellows atan informal lunch and conversationheld on the uc San Diegocampus on March 3, 2004. Themeeting was an opportunity forFellows in the San Diego–La Jollaarea to learn more about the Academy’sresearch programs. Berlowitzdescribed several of the Academy’songoing projects, rangingfrom the gathering of data on thehumanities to a study of corporateresponsibility. She emphasized theimportance of planning campusbasedmeetings to create a moreinformed and interested communityof Fellows across the country,and urged the San Diego group topropose topics for regional symposiato mark the 225th anniversaryof the Academy in 2005–2006.Vincent Crawford and Clive W. J. GrangerGordon Gill, John West, and Helen Ranney30 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004Ruth Adams, Robert McCormick Adams, Daniel Yankelovich, and HarrySuhl

University of California, Irvine“Reliable Information in a Democracy:A Case Study” was the topicof an understated meeting held atthe University of California, Irvine,on March 16, 2004. Patrick Morgan,professor of political scienceand the Tierney Chair in PeaceStudies at Irvine, discussed the issuesinvolved in gathering, interpreting,and disseminating intelligenceinformation. Referring tothe search for weapons of massdestruction and other incidents inIraq, he observed that “intelligenceanalysis should always be separatedfrom politics; when it is not,the result is distorted information.”With the Iraq situation as the immediatefocus of concern, Morganalso warned that other nations,particularly Pakistan, China, SaudiArabia, and North Korea, representserious challenges to the intelligencecommunity.A. Kimball Romney and F. Sherwood RowlandR. Duncan Luce and William DaughadayThe Irvine meeting was organizedand hosted by Walter Fitch, whorecently concluded his term as cochairof the Western Center.Patrick Morgan, Jack Peltason, and Walter FitchUniversity of Wisconsin-MadisonFellows at the University of Wisconsin-Madisonattended a campusunderstated meeting on March30, 2004. Following opening remarksby Chancellor John Wileyon the challenges facing large publicresearch universities, Cora Marrett,professor emeritus of sociologyand Afro-American studies andsenior vice president for academicaffairs, introduced a panel of threeprofessors from diverse ½elds whospoke on their latest research.Leonard Berkowitz, professor ofpsychology, spoke on human aggression;Judith Kimble, professorof genetics and medical genetics,discussed the regulation of animaldevelopment at the molecular level;and Emiko Ohnuki-Tierney,professor of anthropology, spokeabout her recent book, Kamikaze,Cherry Blossoms, and Nationalisms:The Militarization of Aesthetics inJapanese History. The Academy isgrateful to Fellow Virginia Sapiro,professor of political science andwomen’s studies and associatevice chancellor for teaching andlearning, for planning the event.Cora Marrett, Judith Kimble, Leonard Berkowitz, and Emiko Ohnuki-TierneyBulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 31

Forthcoming Academy PublicationsFrom the Committee on International Securities StudiesThe Russian Military: Power and PolicyContentsSteven E. Miller“Introduction: Moscow’s Military Power:Russia’s Search for Security in an Age ofTransition”Pavel K. Baev“The Trajectory of the Russian Military:Downsizing, Degeneration, and Defeat”Aleksandr Golts“The Social and Political Condition of theRussian Military”Alexei G. Arbatov“The Military Reform: From Crisis toStagnation”Roy Allison“Russia, Regional Conflict, and the Use ofMilitary Power”Vitaly V. Shlykov“The Economics of Defense in Russia andthe Legacy of Structural Militarism”Rose Gottemoeller“Arms Control and the Management ofNuclear Weapons”Dmitri V. Trenin“Conclusion: Gold Eagle, Red Star”This volume is edited by Steven E. Miller(Harvard University, Kennedy School ofGovernment) and Dmitri V. Trenin (CarnegieMoscow Center).Russia’s military policy and power remain a major consideration in Eurasia and its nuclear arsenalretains global signi½cance. A new volume in the American Academy Studies in Global Securityseries offers analysis of the Russian military that now exists and of the further reforms that could(and, many believe, should) shape the future of Russian military power. In the excerpt below,Alexei Arbatov, a contributor to the volume, reflects on the dif½culty of implementing meaningfulreform due to the continuing obstacles to public debate on military affairs in Russia.A shroud of secrecy severely limits access to information regarding the state of affairsin and plans for the armed forces and defense industry. This in turns makes itdif½cult to assess the real situation and prospects for reform. Indeed, basic facts andessential information are simply missing from Russia’s public debate on defense.From the limited information that is made available, it is impossible to make even abroad determination about the structure of the armed forces and their deployment;the number of main units and amount of weapons and other combat-related equipment;and principal research and development (r&d) and procurement programs–that is, the basic facts and ½gures necessary to have at least a general idea about Russianmilitary policy and development. Presumably the Russian army should be preparedto ½ght and to achieve some clearly stated objectives. But what kind of warswith which weapons, against what kind of probable opponents, in which militarytheaters, and how soon? Because it does not provide much public information, theRussian defense establishment is not forced to lay bare the fundamental premisesof its policies. Further, it is impossible to know how much ongoing military operations,including the war in Chechnya, will ultimately cost. Hence, there is no basison which to have an informed discussion of the plans for reforming the armed forcesand defense industry or the relevance of various arms control and disarmament proposals,peacekeeping missions, or combat operations–except in purely theoreticalterms ....Two factors help to explain the lack of transparency in the Russian debate over securitypolicy and military reform. First, neither the executive branch (except the ministryof defense), nor parliament, nor society at large has an informed understandingof potential threats to the state that would require greater efforts in the defense area.Thus, there is no sense of urgency to press for more useful information. Second, althoughthe need to rescue the armed forces and defense industry from further degradationthrough military reform is commonly accepted, whether the current militaryhigh command is capable of developing and implementing a ½nancially sound militaryreform program and military policy more generally remains an open question.In the meantime, a tacit agreement has developed between the civilian authorities,who provide what most Russian experts agree is inadequate spending for defense, andthe military, which is allowed to spend the appropriated money as it wants. Meanwhile,the military enjoys a monopoly on information and immunity from criticismfor using the funds as they desire.Alexei G. Arbatov is a member of the Yobloko faction and served, until recently, as a member of theRussian Duma, where he was Deputy Chairman of the Defense Committee and Chairman of the Subcommitteefor International Security and Arms Limitations. He is currently a scholar in residence atthe Carnegie Moscow Center.The Russian Military: Power and Policy is the third in a series of studies to emerge from the AmericanAcademy’s Committee on International Security Studies and its project on International Securityin the Post-Soviet Space. The Academy thanks the Carnegie Corporation of New York for its generoussupport of this project.32 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

From the Corporate Responsibility ProjectRestoring Trust in American BusinessThe Corporate Responsibility Project’s forthcoming Occasional Paper, titled Restoring Trust inAmerican Business, presents the results of the project’s initial phase. Participants have focused onthe role and responsibilities of various “gatekeepers”–including corporate directors, lawyers,and accountants, among others–in constructively shaping corporate conduct. The OccasionalPaper examines how gatekeepers failed in the recent corporate scandals and provides a set ofrecommendations for future practice that reconceptualizes the gatekeeper roles. Excerpts fromfour essays follow:“The Professionalization of Corporate Directors”Martin Lipton and Jay W. LorschIn spite of this progress, the bad news was the series of corporate scandals thatstarted with Enron in the fall of 2001 and has continued to the present. Many whohad been active in encouraging boardroom reform, including a lot of directors themselves,were shocked by the fact that such scandals could take place at a time in whichboards seemed to be increasingly diligent and effective ....The professionalizationof corporate directors would . . . lead to a clearer understanding of what the goals ofboards should be . . . . We would argue that for a large public company, the goal ofthe professional director should be the long-term success of the company.“Professional Independence and the Corporate Lawyer”William T. Allen and Geoffrey MillerIt is important that business lawyers recognize that the duty energetically to facilitatea client’s lawful wishes must be supplemented with a duty, to the law itself, ofindependence. This is a duty to exercise independent (good faith) judgment concerningwhether a proposed action falls within the law. We suggest that in representingclients in negotiating or structuring transactions, or in otherwise assisting clients intheir ongoing efforts to do business within the law, lawyers are obliged to strive toadvance, and not to thwart, the detectable spirit animating the law.“The Financial Scandals and the Demise of the Traditional Investment Banker”Felix G. RohatynWhat we call investment banks today bear no resemblance to what we knew as investmentbanks in the decades after World War II. The evolution of ½nance and of capitalmarkets, the repeal of the Glass-Steagall Act, and the explosion in the technology of ½-nance have totally changed the function of investment banks, which traditionally offeredadvice to corporations and protection to investors. Today’s so-called investment banksbear no more relationship to their predecessors than yesterday’s family doctors bear tohmos.“Journalists and the Corporate Scandals: What Happened to the Watchdog?”Geneva OverholserA ½nal and, indeed, overarching challenge stems from the conduct of media executivestoday. The extraordinary pressure brought to bear on newsgathering organizations–bycorporations seeking to improve their pro½t margins, quarter by quarter; by executivecompensation plans that reward short-term success; and by the primacy of shareholderinterests–is steadily undermining the ability of the press to serve the needs of democracy.Volume EssaysJohn S. Reed, “Values and Corporate Responsibility:A Personal Perspective”Rakesh Khurana, Nitin Nohria, and DanielPenrice, “Management as a Profession”Donald C. Langevoort, “The Regulators andthe Financial Scandals”Martin Lipton and Jay W. Lorsch, “The Professionalizationof Corporate Directors”Margaret M. Blair, “Comment: ShouldDirectors Be Professionals?”Damon Silvers, “Comment: ProfessionalizationDoes Not Mean Power or Accountability”William R. Kinney, Jr., “The Auditor as Gatekeeper”John H. Biggs, “Comment: The Auditor asGatekeeper”William T. Allen and Geoffrey Miller, “ProfessionalIndependence and the CorporateLawyer”Richard Painter, “Comment: The DubiousHistory and Psychology of Clubs as Self-Regulatory Organizations”Felix G. Rohatyn, “The Financial Scandalsand the Demise of the Traditional InvestmentBanker”Gerald Rosenfeld, “Comment: The Role ofInvestment Bankers”Geneva Overholser, “Journalists and theCorporate Scandals: What Happened tothe Watchdog?”This volume is edited by Jay Lorsch (HarvardBusiness School), Andy Zelleke (TheWharton School), and Leslie Berlowitz(American Academy).Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 33

NoteworthySelect Prizes and Awards2004–2005 Phi Beta KappaVisiting ScholarsSteven Chu (Stanford University)Andrew Delbanco (ColumbiaUniversity)Wendy Doniger (University ofChicago)Stanley L. Engerman (Universityof Rochester)Linda Greenhouse (The New YorkTimes)Werner Gundersheimer (FolgerShakespeare Library)Gary C. Jacobson (University ofCalifornia, San Diego)Elliot M. Meyerowitz (CaliforniaInstitute of Technology)Katherine Verdery (University ofMichigan)Sir Michael Francis Atiyah (Universityof Edinburgh) and IsadoreSinger (mit) share the 2004 AbelPrize in Mathematics, awarded bythe Norwegian Academy of Scienceand Letters.Allen Bard (University of Texas atAustin) has received the $300,000Welch Award in Chemistry fromthe Welch Foundation.Timothy Berners-Lee (mit) hasbeen awarded the ½rst MillenniumTechnology Prize, administeredby the Finnish Technology AwardFoundation.Allan M. Campbell (Stanford University)has received the 2004Abbott-asm Lifetime AchievementAward from the AmericanSociety for Microbiology.Federico Capasso (Harvard University)has won the 2004 CaterinaTomassoni and Felice Pietro ChisesiPrize, given by the Universityof Rome “La Sapienza.”Stanley N. Cohen (Stanford University)and Herbert W. Boyer (Universityof California, San Francisco)have been awarded the AlbanyMedical Center Prize in Medicineand Biomedical Research.Nick Holonyak, Jr. (University ofIllinois at Urbana-Champaign) hasbeen awarded the 2004 LemelsonmitPrize for invention.Stanley Korsmeyer (Dana-FarberCancer Institute) received the seventhannual Pezcoller Foundation-American Association for CancerResearch International Award forCancer Research.Elizabeth Loftus (University of California,Irvine) received the 2003Distinguished Scienti½c Award forthe Applications of Psychology bythe American Psychological Association.Fumihiko Maki (Maki and Associates)has won the competition todesign a new building for the UnitedNations. The competition wasopen only to recipients of the PritzerArchitecture Prize.Steven B. Sample (University ofSouthern California) has beenawarded the Charles P. NortonMedal by suny Buffalo.Helen Vendler (Harvard University)has been named the 2004 JeffersonLecturer in the Humanities.William A. Wulf (National Academyof Engineering) is the recipientof the iec Fellow Award, presentedby the International EngineeringConsortium.Shing-Tung Yau (Harvard University)is among the recipients of theAward for International Scienti½cand Technological Cooperationpresented by the Chinese government.New AppointmentsDavid T. Ellwood (Harvard University)has been appointed Deanof the Kennedy School of Governmentat Harvard University.Gerald R. Fink (Whitehead Institutefor Biomedical Research) hasbeen appointed to the Scienti½cAdvisory Board of Dyadic International,Inc.M. Judah Folkman (Harvard MedicalSchool) has been appointed tothe Scienti½c Advisory Board ofSynta Pharmaceuticals.Marye Anne Fox (North CarolinaState University) has been appointedChancellor of the University ofCalifornia, San Diego, effectiveAugust 16, 2004.Lawrence Gold (SomaLogic, Inc.)has been appointed to the Scienti½cAdvisory Board of ArchemixCorp.Robert H. Grubbs (California Instituteof Technology) has been appointedto the Science and EngineeringAdvisory Board of orfidCorporation.Kurt Isselbacher (MassachusettsGeneral Hospital) has been electedto the Board of Trustees of theMarine Biological Laboratory.Harold Koh (Yale University) hasbeen appointed Dean of Yale LawSchool.Martin Leibowitz (New York City)has joined Morgan Stanley as ManagingDirector on the U.S. EquityStrategy team.Susan Lindquist (Whitehead Institutefor Biomedical Research) waselected to the Board of Directorsof Johnson & Johnson.Select PublicationsPoetryMichael Fried (Johns Hopkins University).The Next Bend in the Road.University of Chicago Press, April2004FictionE. L. Doctorow (New York University).Sweet Land Stories. RandomHouse, May 2004Louise Erdrich (Minneapolis, Minnesota).Four Souls. HarperCollins,July 2004Non-FictionGraham Allison (Harvard University).Nuclear Terrorism: The UltimatePreventable Catastrophe. TimesBooks, August 2004James Carroll (Boston, Massachusetts).Crusade: Chronicles of an UnjustWar. Henry Holt (MetropolitanBooks), July 2004Stanley Cavell (Harvard University).Cities of Words: PedagogicalLetters on a Register of the MoralLife. Harvard University Press,May 2004Jean-Pierre Changeux (InstitutPasteur). The Physiology of Truth:Neuroscience and Human Knowledge.Harvard University Press, April2004Lewis Cullman (Cullman Ventures,Inc). Can’t Take It With You: The Artof Making and Giving Money. JohnWiley & Sons, April 2004James Cuno (Courtwald Instituteof Art, London). Whose Muse?Art Museums and the Public Trust.Princeton University Press, December2003John Demos (Yale University).Circles and Lines: The Shape of Lifein Early America. Harvard UniversityPress, May 2004Charles Fried (Harvard LawSchool). Saying What the Law Is:The Constitution and the SupremeCourt. Harvard University Press,March 2004John Kenneth Galbraith (HarvardUniversity). The Economics of InnocentFraud: Truth for Our Time.Houghton Mifflin, April 2004Henry Louis Gates, Jr. (HarvardUniversity) and Evelyn BrooksHigginbotham (Harvard University),eds. African American Lives. OxfordUniversity Press, April 2004Rene Girard (Stanford University).Oedipus Unbound: Selected Writingson Rivalry and Desire (edited andwith an introduction by Mark Anspach).Stanford University Press,March 2004Hans Gumbrecht (Stanford University).Production of Presence:What Meaning Cannot Convey. StanfordUniversity Press, March 2004Thomas P. Hughes (University ofPennsylvania). Human Built World:How To Think About Technology andCulture. University of ChicagoPress, May 2004Samuel P. Huntington (HarvardUniversity). Who Are We? The CulturalCore of American National Identity.Simon & Schuster, May 2004Michael Kammen (Cornell University).A Time to Every Purpose: TheFour Seasons in American Culture.University of North Carolina Press,March 200434 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

Robert P. Kirshner (Harvard University).The Extravagant Universe:Exploding Stars, Dark Energy, andthe Accelerating Cosmos. PrincetonUniversity Press, May 2004Julia Kristeva (University of Paris).Colette. Columbia University Press,May 2004Wendy Lesser, ed. (ThreepennyReview, Berkeley, California). TheGenius of Language: Fifteen WritersReflect on their Mother Tongues. Pantheon,July 2004Seymour Martin Lipset (GeorgeMason University) et al. The Paradoxof American Unionism: WhyAmericans Like Unions More thanCanadians Do But Join Much Less.Cornell University Press, April2004Edmund S. Morgan (Yale University).The Genuine Article: A HistorianLooks at Early America. Norton,June 2004Bill Moyers (Public Affairs tv,Inc.). Moyers on America: A Journalistand His Times. New Press, May2004Alicia H. Munnell (Boston College)and Annika Sunden (Boston College).Coming Up Short: The Challengeof 401 (K) Plans. Brookings,May 2004Roddam Narasimha (JawaharlalNehru Center for Advanced Scienti½cResearch, India), J. Srinivasan(Indian Institute of Science, India),and S. K. Biswas (Indian Instituteof Science, India). The Dynamics ofTechnology: Creation and Diffusionof Skills and Knowledge. Sage Publications,December 2003Martha C. Nussbaum (Universityof Chicago). Hiding from Humanity:Disgust, Shame, and the Law. PrincetonUniversity Press, April 2004Francis Oakley (Williams College).The Conciliarist Tradition: Constitutionalismin the Catholic Church1300–1870. Oxford UniversityPress, January 2004; with BruceRussett (Yale University). Governance,Accountability, and the Futureof the Catholic Church. Continuum,January 2004Robert O. Paxton (Columbia University).The Anatomy of Fascism.Knopf, March 2004Hilary Putnam (Harvard University).Ethics without Ontology. HarvardUniversity Press, March 2004Anna Quindlen (New York City).Loud and Clear. Random House,April 2004William Sa½re (The New YorkTimes). The Right Word in the RightPlace at the Right Time: Wit andWisdom from the Popular “OnLanguage” Column in the New YorkTimes Magazine. Simon &Schuster, July 2004Jane Smiley (University of Iowa).A Year at the Races: Reflections onHorses, Humans, Love, Money, andLuck. Knopf, April 2004Immanuel Wallerstein (sunyBinghamton). World-Systems Analysis:An Introduction. Duke UniversityPress, August 2004Michael Walzer (Institute for AdvancedStudy). Arguing About War.Yale University Press, August 2004;with Nicolaus Mills (Sarah LawrenceUniversity). Decades of Dissent:Fifty Years of Political and SocialCriticism. Yale University Press,August 2004Richard Wilson (Harvard University).A Brief History of the HarvardUniversity Cyclotrons. Harvard UniversityPress, May 2004Gordon S. Wood (Brown University).The Americanization of BenjaminFranklin. Penguin Press, May 2004Theodore Ziolkowski (PrincetonUniversity). Clio The RomanticMuse: Historicizing the Faculties inGermany. Cornell University Press,February 2004ExhibitionsJules Olitski: Half a Life’s Work,Mizel Center for Arts and Culture,Denver, CO, through June 2, 2004.Sebastiao Salgado: Photographymonth, Ludwig Museum Budapest,through June 27, 2004.Wayne Thiebaud: Pop! From SanFrancisco Collections, San FranciscoMuseum of Modern Art, throughSeptember 19, 2004.Cy Twombly: Fifty Years of Workson Paper, Serpentine Gallery, London,through June 13, 2004.We invite all Fellows and ForeignHonorary Members to sendnotices about their recent andforthcoming publications, scienti½c½ndings, exhibitions andperformances, and honors andprizes to keep us informed of yourwork so that we may share itwith the larger Academy community.Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004 35

cêçã=íÜÉ=^êÅÜáîÉëEulogy on General George WashingtonFebruary 19, 1800, Boston, MassachusettsImage donated by Corbis-BettmannOn Wednesday, the 19th of February of 1800 at 11:00 a.m., the Academy metpursuant to adjournment at the Senate Chamber of the Old State House and fromthere went in procession, at 12 o’clock, to the Meeting House on Brattle Streetwhere a Eulogy on General George Washington was pronounced before theAcademy by Dr. John Davis, Recording Secretary.The eulogy was printed in the second volume of the Academy’s Memoirs (1804).The illustrious Man, whose loss we now deplore,was among the ½rst of your elected associates.It was a time of multiplied calamities.The military operations of the enemy were tobe opposed in ½ve different states of the union.A mind occupied with such immense concerns,could not be expected to apply itself to the immediateobjects of your institution. Yet he acceptsyour invitation; looking forward, doubtless,to the happier days, when the arts of peaceshould succeed the horrors of war. As the ½rstamong the public characters of the age; as thepride and defense of your country, he was entitledto the earliest and most respectful expressionsof your attention: but he was your associateby still more appropriate characters, bydispositions and accomplishments, altogethercongenial to the nature and end of your institution.It is among the declared objects of your inquiry,to examine the various soils of the country, toascertain their natural growths and the differentmethods of culture: to promote and encourageagriculture, arts, manufactures and commerce:to cultivate the knowledge of the naturalhistory of the country, and to determine theuses, to which its various productions may beapplied.Pursuits of this nature always commanded hisattention, and to some of them he was peculiarlyattached. They were frequently the topicof his conversation, and the subject of his correspondence,with ingenious and public spiritedmen, in different parts of the world.[Yet] . . . he did not lose sight of Learning andof the Arts. “There is nothing,” said he, (in hisaddress to the ½rst congress) “that can betterdeserve your attentive “patronage, than thepromotion of Science and Literature. “Knowledgeis in every country, the surest basis of public“happiness. In one, in which the measuresof government “receive their impression so immediatelyfrom the sense of “the community,it is proportionably essential.” To the Trusteesand Faculty of the University of Pennsylvania,in reply to their respectful address, he acknowledgeshimself grati½ed in being considered, by thepatrons of literature, as one of their number; beingfully apprized of the influence which sound learninghas on religion and manners, on government, libertyand laws; and expressing his con½dence thatthe same unremitting exertions, which under all theblasting storms of war, caused the arts and sciencesto flourish in America, would bring them nearerto maturity, when invigorated by the milder rays ofpeace. To the University of Harvard, he communicateshis sincere satisfaction in learning theflourishing state of their literary republic. Unacquainted,he adds, with the expression of sentimentswhich I do not feel, you will do me justice in believing,con½dently, in my disposition to promote theinterests of science and true religion.It would require little aid from the imagination,to render the signi½cant emblem of yoursociety an apt memorial of your late illustriousassociate. Let Minerva with the spear andshield, represent his venerable form. Theimplements of husbandry, the hill crownedwith oaks, and the ½eld of native grain, indicatehis favorite employment. The rising city,the instruments of philosophy, the approachingship, and the sun above the cloud, are livelyimages of the benign and happy influence ofhis life, on commerce and the arts, and theadvancing greatness of his country.36 Bulletin of the American Academy Spring 2004

Norton’s Woods, 136 Irving Street, Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138telephone 617-576-5000, fax 617-576-5050,email, website www.amacad.orgacademy officersPatricia Meyer Spacks, PresidentLeslie Cohen Berlowitz, Executive Of½cerLouis W. Cabot, Vice PresidentEmilio Bizzi, SecretaryJohn S. Reed, TreasurerSteven Marcus, EditorMartin Dworkin, Vice President, Midwest CenterJesse H. Choper, Vice President, Western Centeradvisory boardJesse H. Choper, Denis Donoghue, Jerome Kagan, Steven Marcus,Jerrold Meinwald, Patricia Meyer Spackseditorial staffAlexandra Oleson, EditorPhyllis S. Bendell, Director of PublicationsPatricia Brady, Contributing EditorJanet Foxman, Assistant EditorDebra Stern, Layout & DesignInitial design by Joe Moore of Moore + AssociatesBulletin Spring 2004Issued as Volume lvii, Number 3© 2004 by the American Academy of Arts & SciencesThe Bulletin of the American Academy of Arts & Sciences (issn 0002–712x) ispublished quarterly by the American Academy of Arts & Sciences. Periodicalsrate postage paid at Boston ma, and additional mailing of½ces. Postmaster:Send address changes to Bulletin, American Academy of Arts &Sciences, 136 Irving Street, Cambridge ma 02138.The views expressed in the Bulletin are those held by each contributor andare not necessarily those of the Of½cers and Fellows of the American Academyof Arts & creditsSteve Rosenthal:inside front coverMartha Stewart: pages 1, 7, 11, 20, 27, 29Shira Peltzman: page 15Jim Block:Kevin Walsh:Laurel Hungerford:Joshua Borstein:page 30, top two imagespage 30, bottom three imagespage 31, top three imagespage 31, bottom image

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