EDUCATION
Commencement speeches give varying views Older speakers stress challenge of future; student speakers emphasize the need for change
AEC's Seaborg Puts change into perspective
Mills' Mills Prophesying a Malthusian apocalypse 32 C&EN JUNE 30, 1969
It was not a year like other years on college campuses, and the spirit of the times was echoed in what valedictorians, honorary degree winners, and other commencement speakers told graduating seniors this past month. There were—to be sure—the traditional allusions to Plutarch, Pericles, and Proverbs, but an unmentioned poem—Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach"—sums up the tone and substance of this spring's proceedings best. Plainly, the world, which once seemed "to lie before us like a land of dreams, so various, so beautiful, so new" had been revealed to many commencement speakers as Arnold's "darkling plain"— devoid of joy, of certitude, and peace; a world "swept with confused alarms of struggle" between "ignorant armies" representing the often warring forces of students and the establishment. Commencement is different this year, John W. Oswald, executive vice president of the University of California in ceremonies at Berkeley, summed up, "because there are many people who think this ceremony should not be held at all. On the one hand, there are citizens who are so baffled, outraged, and confused . . . that they are upset with and oppose nearly everything we do. On the other hand, there are young people whose alienation is so complete that they resist anything such as this commencement that smacks to them of 'business as usual/" Paradoxically, the generation that suffered through the depression, fought a world war, and experienced the most dread-filled days of the cold war that followed is the generation that still found some reason for cheer and some words to express it. Dr. Glenn T. Seaborg, Chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission, was typical. "Over the years," he notes, "I have given numerous commencement talks, most of which, like those of other commencement speakers, emphasized the obvious challenges and opportunities that await graduating students. "It was more or less taken for granted," he adds, "that the system . . . was sound, and that neither its structure nor values were in doubt. Today all that is changed. The sys-
tem . . . [is] under attack by the students, many of whom see only [its] flaws, weaknesses, and failings, to the exclusion of . . . past accomplishments and its basic strength for future progress. "In my talks this year [at Georgia Tech and Wisconsin State] I have tried to put change into better perspective for the young people who have focused mainly on its negative effects." In acknowledging both student impatience with the older generation and that generation's occasional slowness to respond, Dr. Seaborg likened the present situation to an automobile whose brakes have failed, plunging down a steep, tortuous road. "The driver is frantically trying to keep his car from plummeting over a cliff, while his young son is bouncing on the back seat, clapping his hands, and shouting, 'Faster, Dad, faster!' " The speed and direction of change, and the role technology plays, were preoccupations of other commencement speakers, also. At Mills College in Oakland, Calif., Stanford University president Kenneth Pitzer—in what was basically a rehash of his Priestley Medal Address (C&EN, April 2 1 , page 72)—once again called for thorough assessment of the desirability of technological innovation as soon as the practical application of a piece of basic research can be visualized. But Mills valedictorian Stephanie Mills could not be soothed. Calling traditional rosy depictions of the future "a hoax," she went on to prophesy a Malthusian apocalypse in a strident, near-hysterical speech. "Mankind," she said, "has spread across the face of the earth like a great unthinking, unfeeling cancer." Vowing never to have children herself, Miss Mills predicted mass starvation because—for one reason—the population problem is "far less interesting to our government than the space program, antiballistic missiles, or even the size of print on cigarette packages." Though Miss Mills' comments seem to have issued forth from some world where good intentions hold sway over the reality of what can be achieved, she may be symptomatic of a growing trend. W e are unhappily in a time, suggested Rexford S. Blazer, chairman
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