第35章 CHAPTER II(4)

It is， further， of the essence of this scheme of academic control that the captain of erudition should freely exercise the power of academic life and death over the members of his staff， to reward the good and faithful servant and to abase the recalcitrant. Otherwise discipline would be a difficult matter， and the formally requisite "advice and consent" could be procured only tardily and grudgingly.

Admitting such reservations and abatement as may be due， it is to be said that the existing organization of academic control under business principles falls more or less nearly into the form outlined above. The perfected type， as sketched in the last paragraphs， has doubtless not been fully achieved in practice hitherto， unless it be in one or another of the newer establishments with large ambitions and endowment， and with few traditions to hamper the working out of the system. The incursion of business principles into the academic community is also of relatively recent date， and should not yet have had time to pervade the organization throughout and with full effect； so that the r間ime of competitive strategy should as yet be neither so far advanced nor so secure a matter of course as may fairly be expected in the near future. Yet the rate of advance along this line， and the measure of present achievement， are more considerable than even a very sanguine advocate of business principles could have dared to look for a couple of decades ago.

In so far as these matters are still in process of growth， rather than at their full fruition， it follows that any analysis of the effects of this r間ime must be in some degree speculative， and must at times deal with the drift of things as much as with accomplished fact. Yet such an inquiry must approach its subject as an episode of history， and must deal with the personal figures and the incidents of this growth objectively， as phenomena thrown up to view by the play of circumstances in the dispassionate give and take of institutional change. Such an impersonal attitude， it is perhaps needless to remark， is not always easy to maintain in dealing with facts of so personal， and often of so animated， a character. Particularly will an observer who has seen these incidents from the middle and in the making find it difficult uniformly to preserve that aloof perspective that will serve the ends of an historical appreciation. The difficulty is increased and complicated by the necessity of employing terms， descriptions and incidents that have been habitually employed in current controversy， often with a marked animus. Men have taken sides on these matters， and so are engaged in controversy on the merits of the current r間ime and on the question of possible relief and remedy for what are considered to be its iniquities. Under the shadow of this controversy， it is nearly unavoidable that any expression or citation of fact that will bear a partisan construction will habitually be so construed. The vehicle necessarily employed must almost unavoidably infuse the analysis with an unintended colour of bias， to one side or the other of the presumed merits of the case. A degree of patient attention is therefore due at points where the facts cited， and the characterization of these facts and their bearing， would seem， on a superficial view， to bear construction as controversial matter.

In this episode of institutional growth， plainly， the executive head is the central figure. The light fails on him rather than on the forces that move him， and it comes as a matter of course to pass opinions on the resulting incidents and consequences， as the outcome of his free initiative rather than of the circumstances whose creature he is. No doubt， his initiative， if any， is a powerful factor in the case， but it is after all a factor of transmission and commutation rather than of genesis and self-direction； for he is chosen for the style and measure of initiative with which he is endowed， and unless he shall be found to measure up to expectations in kind and degree in this matter he will go in the discard， and his personal ideals and initiative will count as little more than a transient obstruction. He will hold his place， and will count as a creative force in his world， in much the same degree in which he responds with ready flexibility to the impact of those forces of popular sentiment and class conviction that have called him to be their servant. Only so can he be a "strong man"； only in so far as， by fortunate bent or by its absence， he is enabled to move resistlessly with the parallelogram of forces.

The exigencies of a businesslike administration demand that there be no division of powers between the academic executive and the academic staff； but the exigencies of the higher learning require that the scholars and scientists must be left quite free to follow their own bent in conducting their own work. In the nature of things this work cannot be carried on effectually under coercive rule. Scientific inquiry can not be pursued under direction of a layman in the person of a superior officer. Also， learning is， in the nature of things， not a competitive business and can make no use of finesse， diplomatic equivocation and tactful regard for popular prejudices， such as are of the essence of the case in competitive business. It is， also， of no advantage to learning to engross the trade. Tradition and present necessity alike demand that the body of scholars and scientists who make up the university must be vested with full powers of self-direction， without ulterior consideration. A university can remain a corporation of learning， de facto， on no other basis.