LIBERAL CORPORATION OR RADICAL COLLECTIVE [Note: the second part of this essay regarding how Hampshire could be a radical collective is missing.] "No major departure, no new and consequential venture, is made without a context and vision." --Franklin Patterson, The Making of a College [p.44] INTRODUCTION This essay presents an analysis of the political structure of Hampshire College. The essay seeks to describe the distribution of power within the college and the framework of power which relates the college to the society which surrounds and supports it. The analysis is predicated upon the radical assumption that fundamental structural patterns exert decisive influence upon the ultimate character of institutions, quite apart from the particular personalities of the persons who happen to occupy positions within those structures. It is quite important to keep in mind, then, that this is a formal, not a personal, critique. The paper is not intended as an attack upon any individual or group of individuals at Hampshire, although it does present a strong indictment of a particular mode of institutional organization. The paper may at times assail the office of the President, for example, but this is not necessarily to attack the President himself. The distinction is delicate, but crucial. The analysis proceeds from another important assumption: that a college is simultaneously a thing and an idea, a place and a way of life, a community and a consciousness. A college is presumed, in other words, to have both physical and psychological reality, both objective and subjective existence. Political structure, the subject of this essay, is an essentially psychological reality--a collective consciousness (or unconsciousness) which either stimulates or inhibits the actions of individuals. This is so because people are objectively free to act only when they feel subjectively free, objectively responsible only when they feel genuinely responsible, and so on. Not surprisingly, one of the activities affected by political consciousness is the process of education. The essay argues that the type of political structure which the College exhibits, the type of personal freedom and personal responsibility which the prevailing ideology encourages, will have a direct and demonstrable bearing upon the quality of education which the college can provide. An authoritarian structure will provide one sort of education, a liberal structure another, and a radical anarchist structure a third. The observation that political organization and educational ends are related is hardly a novel one, but it must be emphasized nonetheless. Discussion of educational innovation often takes place within a governance framework, a hierarchical structure, which is held to be neutral. The basic claim of this paper directly contradicts the liberal view that reform and innovation are possible without changing the "system". Hierarchical political structures are oppressive within, as well as outside, the classroom. Significant educational reform will be possible at Hampshire, and elsewhere, only to the extent that a radical democratization of governance is simultaneously undertaken. A statement in the Hampshire catalog can be taken as accurately descriptive of the college's present political structure: The Hampshire governance arrangements will not be egalitarian: they will be hierarchical. To be involved, informed, and participating will be the responsibility and right of every member of the community; but experience, past performance, and a definition of role will determine the decision-making arrangements [p. 52] At the moment, then, Hampshire sees itself as a hierarchical, non- egalitarian community. It expects everyone to be "involved, informed, and participating", although clearly some people are intended to be more "participating" than others. This self-image is essentially schizophrenic, since "hierarchy" and "community" are fundamentally incompatible values in a college for the same reasons that class structure and democracy are incompatible in wider society. This paper argues that at the present time Hampshire College is in most respects a liberal corporation, but with elements of consciousness which are characteristic of a radical collective. The present situation is a political melange, a sort of institutional double-exposure. At the moment the college is masking its real hierarchy, while advertising an empty, rhetorical community. The desire for genuine community is so strong within the college that it is often exploited by the hierarchy for directly opposite goals, just as the advertiser exploits the need for love to sell products which only increase alienation. At the moment, the danger of increasing transition to competitive liberal corporation and the promise of increasing transition to cooperative radical collective combine to make Hampshire College a frustrating and exciting place. Unfortunately, the tension between these two tendencies becomes creative only when we clearly comprehend it and begin to see our way clear toward its resolution. "Reform" without analysis is virtually certain to be self-defeating. I have written this paper in the hope that it might provide both a context and a vision, as a step toward understanding what we are--and what we may yet become. Part One: The COLLEGE AS LIBERAL CORPORATION "There is a tendency in American colleges and universities to increase the administrative staff and the administrative detail out of proportion to the essential responsibility of teaching...Real danger comes when administration becomes an end in itself, as most humans activities tend to be if let alone, when it tends to multiply and bureaucratize, or when it tends to vacillate, run to ambiguity, and fail to help a community define and articulate its limits and aspirations. --Franklin Patterson, The Making of a College [p.188] Although such a model is never explicit in either the external or the internal propaganda of the institution, there is an unmistakable formal correspondence between the structure of Hampshire College and the structure of modern liberal corporations (e.g. Xerox, IBM). This is actually hardly surprising, given the influence which business and businessmen have exerted during the last century upon higher education in America [See, for example, The Corporation and the Campus, ed. Robert H. Connery, or David Horowitz' article, "Billion Dollar Brains," in Ramparts.] Thorstein Veblen preceded Franklin Patterson by more that half a century in identifying the administrative threat to academic life. In a book which he wrote in 1918, The Higher Learning in America: A Memorandum on the Conduct of Universities by Business Men, Veblen objected to the imposition of a corporate model upon higher education. Under that model, as Veblen put it, the college "is conceived as a business house dealing in merchantable knowledge, placed under the governing hand of a captain of erudition, whose office it is to turn the means in hand to account in the largest feasible output." [p.62] In the college as corporation, the president heads a hierarchically organized set of constituencies, each of which is assigned a different set of interests. (in fact, the resulting stratification of the college closely reflects the class structure of the capitalist society in which the college finds itself, a society where corporate organization reigns supreme.) To understand the college as corporation, it is necessary to understand the various roles played by the classes which constitute it: trustees, administration, faculty, staff, and students. 1. TRUSTEES In the college as corporation, the trustees are the board of directors. Although they are not all donor/investors themselves, they represent the interests of the major sources of capitol (government, foundations, wealthy individuals). Legal responsibility and "ownership" accordingly accrue to this body. Such titular control is quite insignificant in one sense, for in both the corporation and the college, the nominal owners (trustee/directors) are generally in no position to monitor or influence the day-to-day affairs of the organization. Their actual power is strictly limited by practical considerations of distance, expertise, and access to information. The trustee/directors do not, in general, live near the organization which they allegedly "own" and "control," they often lack professional skills necessary for effective decision-making, and they are unable to gather information independently of administration/management [see below], which is their only structural link to the life of the organization and the other constituencies within it. Still, the trustee/directors are periodically invited by administration/management to come and "make decisions" about the future of the enterprise in the long run, particularly as concerning financial matters. On such occasions, the questions to be "decided" are invariably prepared for the trustee/directors by administration/management, whose position is almost always sustained, if only faute de mieux. Trustee/director meetings are elaborate extravaganzas attended with much official reporting and documentation, wining and dining, but despite all this circumstance they are essentially perfunctory ceremonies. In almost all cases, the trustee/directors can be counted upon to rubber-stamp administration/management's proposals, and the latter will occasionally even publicly admit as much. With rare exceptions, then, it is administration/management that runs the organization. This is not, however, to say that the trustee/director body has no function, or that its composition is irrelevant. The trustees, as titular owners, have no short-run control, but they do have certain long-ruin class interests, and the college as corporation must never contravene those class interests. In Hampshire's case, the trustees' class interests are those of the upper-class white male liberal Eastern Establishment. The most cursory sociological analysis of the Board of Trustees or the "surrogate alumni" of the National Advisory Council is sufficient to demonstrate the predominance of wealthy industrialists and prominent Establishment figures. Token blacks, women, and the less-well-to-do are exceptions which prove the rule. The recent inclusion of one student and one faculty-member on the Board is a co-optative measure with similarly token effect. It is significant that this upper-class control is encouraged by the administration. Seats on the Board of Trustees are sold to the highest bidders, by design. Consider, for example, the following "strategy for Individual Gifts for Phase II of the Hampshire College Founders' Fund:" Strengthening the Board of Trustees: At the moment, there are four vacancies on the Board. Others will occur as the present members rotate off. At least two of these places should be reserved for individuals who are able, if inclined, to give gifts of $1,000,000 or more. In an industrial corporation, it is rather easy to identify the class interests of the directors: profit and stability. But what are the class interests of the trustees of a college? What do they have to gain from their contribution of time and capital to the college? Does the analogy between corporation and college break down at this point, since the trustees receive no direct monetary return as a result of their participation? In fact, the analogy still holds. The trustees do benefit as a class from their control of the college, since they are able to see to it that the college produces (1) the class structure, and (2) the ideology, which are required by their corporate interests.; Consider, for example, the remarks of Roger Blough, former chief executive of U.S. Steel ["Agenda for the Seventies," in Connery, The Corporation and the Campus, p.176]: The corporation and the campus are interdependent. It is not enough to utter the truism which has become a cliche--that the corporation needs educated people to make a profit and the colleges need dollars to produce educated people. Corporate support of higher education contributes significantly to the long-range goals of a corporation, for business is not only concerned with producing goods and services at a profit today but also with the continuity of a profitable enterprise. If American business does not aid in the maintenance of liberal education as the bulwark of good government, it is not properly protecting the long0-range interests of its stockholders, its employees, and its customers. "Good government," of course, is simply the Establishment's transparent euphemism for its control of "the system," the social and economic structure in which the upper class enjoys such magnificent privilege. Any assertion that trustees who have such enormous personal interests can represent :the public at large" must be dismissed as nonsense. The trustees represent the Establishment, not the public. It is they who are the ultimate source of the elitist character of Hampshire College. They see to it that the college is an exclusive institution with a largely upper-class student body and a distinctively upper-class ideology. The elitist ideology, crudely expressed, is that the beautiful people of the upper class have a right to rule society. The Hampshire Catalog states that the new society we have is in many ways vital and rich, and every part of the world is reaching for the kinds of benefits it can confer. The technological society is shaped increasingly by scientists, engineers, economists, and other professionals--a large range of related elites open to anyone able and educated enough to qualify. [p.19] What the Catalog does not say is that Hampshire college itself is a conduit to the elite professions which is manifestly closed to most students who are "able and educated enough to qualify", but who lack wealth sufficient to pay tuition. Elitist ideology promotes respect for the ":professionals" and contempt for the working class. It is fundamentally anti-democratic and patronizing, a highly self-centered and manipulative view of the world. For this the trustees are largely responsible. For more on elitist ideology, see John Clayton's forthcoming analysis of the Hampshire Catalog.] 2. ADMINISTRATION In the college s corporation, administration is management. It is administration/management which seeks, as Veblen says, "to turn the means in hand to account in the largest feasible output." It is administration/management which makes the day-to-day decisions about capital allocation and which guides the long-term financial decisions nominally made by the trustee/directors. The administrators are the educational entrepreneurs, the institutional manipulators. Veblen called them the "captains of erudition," in parallel with the captains of industry in the corporate world. Educational entrepreneurs see their role as the efficient production and retailing of a product, namely education. This is the "merchantable knowledge" to which Veblen referred. The primary function of administration is to see that the human and financial capital available to the college are maximally exploited in the production of this product. Administration runs the show. Veblen observed the consequences of this entrepreneurial process: The immediate and visible effect of...a large and centralized administrative machinery is, on the whole detrimental to scholarship.... The ideal of efficiency be force of which a large-scale centralized organization commends itself in these premises is that pattern of shrewd management whereby a large business concern makes money. The underlying business-like presumption accordingly appears to be that learning is a merchantable commodity, to be produced on a piece-rate plan, rated, bought and sold by standard units, measured, counted and reduced to staple equivalence by impersonal, mechanical tests. In all its bearings the work is hereby reduced to a mechanical, statistical consistency, with numerical standards and units; which conduces to perfunctory and mediocre work throughout, and acts to deter both student and teachers from a free pursuit of knowledge, as contrasted with the pursuit of academic credits.... Under such a scheme of standardization, accountancy, and control, the school becomes primarily a bureaucratic organization. [p.163] Within such a bureaucratic organization, hierarchy becomes an institutional obsession. Administration/management works compulsively to hierarchically organize itself--and the college as a whole. It expends great amounts of time, energy, and paper in clarifying just who-reports- to-whom, detailing the chain of command in elaborate administrative gobbledygook. An excellent example of this managerial process is the Report of the Ad Hoc Advisory Committee on the Office of the Deans of the College [dated 2/3/72]: It is clear that support for the exercise of the office of the Dean of the College is to come operationally from the Vice-President whenever he feels a clear sense of the President's view of the policies under which operations are to be carried out. Essentially this means that in those cases where the Dean feels the need to inquire, he has available to him the services of the Vice-President immediately for the resolution of the question. All other academic support units are supervised by the Vice- President who functions as the President's executive officer responsible for all systems in the College. Words like "operationally", "academic support units," "functions," and "systems" give this "clear" statement an air of objective authority and orderliness, an aura of competence and efficiency. This is very important. Although faculty and student often suffer from its crackpot realism, the administrative bureaucracy sees itself as the responsible, efficient, rational, and fair organizing force in a community which would presumably be irresponsible, wasteful, irrational, unjust and chaotic without it. Administration/management has at its disposal by far the greatest share of power within the college as corporation, and it requires this ideology to rationalize its position, both to itself and to the community that it controls. Thus, administration tells the college that it has been around from the beginning, that it has the blueprint for development, that it has the expertise to look far into the future, watching out for the "long-range interests of the institution." Administration claims to plan for the good of all. It asserts that it is the only element in the college with a sufficiently long view to transcend the petty interests of the moment. In pursuit of its goal of efficiency, administration/management does what it can to promote competition among its employees to develop an atmosphere of what might be termed "creative insecurity.: Presumably, employees will work hard only if prodded by management. In general, management chooses to make its product as capital-intensive as possible. Whenever given the choice between investing in material resources on the one hand and human resources on the other, management will tend to prefer the material. (Machines, books, and buildings are appreciably more constant and reliable than human beings.) The tendency of academic managers to prefer visible and "practical" investments was also noted by Veblen: Imbued with an alert sense of those pecuniary values which they are by habit and temperament in a position to appreciate, the sagacious governing board may, for instance, determine to expend the greater proportion of the available income of the university in improving and decorating its real estate... There is, indeed, a visible reluctance on the part of these businesslike boards to expend the corporation's income for those intangible, immaterial uses for which the university is established. These uses leave no physical, tangible residue in the way of durable gods, such as will justify the expenditure in terms of vendible property acquired; therefore, they are prima facie imbecile, and correspondingly distasteful, to men whose habitual occupation is with the acquisition of property. [pp. 58-9] In the production of the educational product, then, administration as management will generally seek to minimize expenditures on intangible and invisible items like financial aid, psychiatric counseling, and social life, while maximizing expenditures for administrative machinery, buildings, public relations, and educational technology. As Veblen went on to observe, By force of the same businesslike bias the boards unavoidably incline to apportion funds assigned for current expenses in such a way as to favour those 'practical' or quasi-practical lines of instruction and academic propaganda that are presumed...to yield immediate returns in the way of a creditable publicity. [Ibid.] Administration's preoccupation with "a creditable publicity" is quite understandable within the corporate model. Publicity (advertising) is essential to any organization that sees itself as selling a product on a competitive market. And the college as corporation is always in competition with other colleges. The public relations office has the advertiser's job of product- differentiation. It seeks to convince the buyers (students and parents) and the investors (donors, government, and foundations) that the college is producing a product that is "new," "innovative," "experimental," "on a par with Harvard's", etc., etc. Such advertising is extremely expensive, and in no way relates to the educational operation of the college, but administration as management claims that the return makes this an efficient allocation of the college's income. By advertising effectively, the college can charge a higher price for its product (raising tuition), since it has created a favorable market for itself. The office of public relations will publicize those aspects of college life which foundations, parents, wealthy donors, and potential students will be inclined to approve. As Veblen comments, ...every feature of academic life, and of the life of all members of the academic staff, must unremittingly (tough of course unavowedly) be held under surveillance at every turn, with a view to furthering whatever may yield a reputable notoriety, and to correcting or eliminating whatever may be conceived to have a doubt fuyl or untoward bearing in this respect.... Without such a painstaking cultivation of a reputable notoriety,, it is believed, a due share of funds could not be procured by and university for the prosecution of its work as a seminary of the higher learning. [168-9] The college as corporation expends enormous resources projecting a warped, but glossy, image onto the public at large. In the college as corporation, the administrative entrepreneurs both implement and determine policy, although their role in the determination process is often disguised. Where parliamentary governance structures parallel the administrative hierarchy, the administration will treat the former as a perfunctory rubber-stamp. It will lead the parliamentary bodies to believe that they play a genuine role in the policy-making process, while in practice they are systematically ignored. In the "Statement of Specifications for the Post of Dean of the College" [dated 2/2/72], for example, no mention is made of the Academic Council. It is apparent from the statement that all substantive decisions are made finally by administrative officers: The Dean of the College, with the Vice-President, will work directly with the President in the formulation of academic policies and in the interpretation of important policy questions. The Dean will be fully participant in those decision processes where present practice, new proposals, and the allocation of resources needed for both must be finally determined. Under the circumstances, the Academic Council becomes little more than a glorified all-college debating club. As was noted above, administration/management rationalizes its great power by employing the ostensibly legitimating ideology of "efficiency- expertise-fairness". This ideology is not always sufficient to protect it from challenge, however. When serious challenge does arise, administration can be expected to apply various tactics, at least four of which can be isolated. They might be called (1) repressive tolerance, (2) divide-and-conquer, (3) come-advise-us, and (4) co-optation. Repressive tolerance allows dissent to be expressed, but totally ignored its essence. This tactic amounts to holding large public meetings (e.g., Academic Council) where a lot of steam is let off, where confrontation and "free speech" are permitted, while nothing is ultimately done about objections raised. Repressive tolerance accords administration a liberal image--and often leads dissenters to expend all their energy in an ineffectual way. Divide-and-conquer isolates individual dissenters from their sources of support. With faculty and staff, employees subject to administration's managerial control, this tactic involves gently intimidation of a sort which could never be employed if there were effective faculty or staff unions. With students, the tactic is often expressed as: "Come see me in my office about this next week." Alone, of course. Come-advise-us is used against constituencies which might be tempted to assert power on their own (e.g., the Community Council). Those who have a legitimate right to actually make decisions are instead invited to tender recommendations to the administration. Co-optation is used when challenge has escalated to an intolerable level. When opposition is overwhelming, administration will claim that the reform demanded is what it has always wanted anyhow. By taking the issue to its breast as though it had thought up the reform in the first place, administration denies support to the real reformers. All these tactics are used to prevent any effective organization from developing within th ecollege. The administration will abandon tactics and surrender actual power only in the face of implacable opposition. To sum up, administration's role is that of capitalist entrepreneur. It massages, cajoles, exhorts, encourages, intimidates, coerces, and overworks the other elements of the community, as the occasion requires. It does not so much administer as manipulate. 3. FACULTY AND STAFF The teaching faculty and administrative staff (secretaries, maintenance employees, technicians) are the employees of the college as corporation. They are the work force which is to be exploited in producing the educational product. Faculty are the white-collar workers and staff are the blue-collar workers. As in the liberal corporation, the class line between these categories is strictly maintained. Faculty as white-collar workers are much better paid than staff, they have more vacations and greater control over working conditions, and they have relative job security. The faculty's preferential status requires an ideological rationalization (in much the same way that the administration's power advantage does): faculty are held to have "credentials and qualifications" entitling them to higher salaries; they play the key role in production (direct personal contact with students) and they must be rewarded accordingly. Faculty members are quite jealous of their "professional expertise", and this vanity is a weakness which administration/management can easily exploit. In general, faculty will be coddled. flattered, and wooed, rather than coerced. Staff as blue-collar workers enjoy much less privilege. In general, they are badly paid an rottenly treated. They are given little or no job security, they are looked down upon by administration, students, and faculty alike as temporary tools, as nearly sub-human hacks. They are ranked and classified according to the amount of "contact time" they have with students, i.e., the degree to which they are accorded basic human social skills. The staff are rarely asked to innovate or create, to contribute from non-machinelike parts of their personalities. They are asked only to do their jobs--to type, or wash pots, or rake leaves. They are viewed as one-dimensional devices which can always be replaced on the job market. Faculty are also tools, of course, but they are invited to think of themselves in other terms. They are encouraged, like the engineers at IBM or XEROX, to innovate in the production of a superior product. They are urged, even required, to be creative. What is more, they are given the important illusion that they have some genuine control over the institution that employs them. This is, however, strictly illusion--as Veblen once again has long since noted: The first executive duty of the president]... is to keep his faculty under control, so as to be able unhampered to carry out the policy of magnitude and secularization with a view to which the governing board has invested him with his powers. This work of putting the faculty in its place has by this time been carried out with sufficient effect, so that its 'advice and consent' may in all cases e taken as a matter of course; and should a remnant of initiative and scholarly aspiration show itself in any given concrete case in such a way as to traverse the lines of policy pursued by the executive, he can readily correct the difficulty by exercise f a virtually plenary power of appointment, preferment, and removal, backed as this power is by a nearly indefeasible black-list. So well is the academic black-list understood, indeed, and so sensitive and trustworthy is the fearsome loyalty of the common run among academic men, that very few among them will venture openly to say a good word for any one of their colleagues who may have fallen under the displeasure of some incumbent of executive office. This work of intimidation and subordination may fairly be said to have acquired the force of an institution, and to need no current surveillance of the faculty, or of a working majority, may safely be counted on. [185] Should faculty members become seriously displeased, however, the administration will play repressive tolerance of come-advise-us, inviting the unhappy individual to server on yet one more of the many committees-for-the-sifting of sawdust into which the faculty of a well- administered university is organized. There committees being, in effect, if not in intention, designed chiefly to keep the faculty talking while the bureaucratic machine goes on its way under the guidance of the executive and this personal counsellors and lieutenants. [186] Talking, however, is of little avail, since the administration is served by a corps of adroit parliamentarians and lobbyists, ever at hand to divert the faculty's action from any measure that might promise to have a substantial effect. By force of circumstances, chief of which is the executive office, the faculties have become deliberative bodies charged with the power to talk. Their serious attention has been taken up with schemes for weighing imponderables or correlating incommensurables, with such a degree of verisimilitude as would keep the statistics and accountancy of the collective administration in countenance, and still leave some play in the joints of the system for the personal relation of teacher and discipline. It is a nice problem in self-deception, chiefly notable for an endless proliferation. [206] Thus, the faculty is hopelessly bamboozled, as its vanity and love of talk are extravagantly catered to by the administration. The faculty is able to innovate to some degree, it is true, but it is never allowed control over the budge, the crucial mechanism which either permits or proscribes all innovations. To quote Veblen once more: Much effective surveillance of the academic work is exercised through the [administration's] control of the budget. The academic staff can do little else than what the specifications of the budget provide for; without the means with which the corporate income should supply them they are as helpless as might be expected. [58] And so the faculty bumble along--divided and conquered, tolerated and ignored, flattered and overworked. They are never given any significant amount of genuine power, but them, they never demand it. Faculty are encouraged to compete with one another, and they are frequently reminded by the administration of the state of the job market. Promotion schemes further this competition, where the ratio of 1:2:4 for full, associate, and assistant professors force young faculty at Hampshire to compete with one another for the higher positions. Lack of tenure also functions to increase faculty insecurity. There is little solidarity or political consciousness within the faculty. The corporate ethic of competition is not conducive to cooperation, teamwork, or personal support. The lack of teamwork is directly reflected in the academic program, which is characterized by highly individualistic and uncoordinated academic efforts (genuinely collective intellectual activities like the Environmental Quality Program are quite rare). There is no effective political structure which might give the faculty unity and power. Faculty are defeated by their own excessive individualism: the administrative strategies of repressive tolerance, divide-and-conquer, come-advise-us, and co-optation are devastatingly effective. 4. STUDENTS In a sense, students and parents occupy the same position with respect to the college as corporation. Both groups are consumers, buyers, customers, the market. A large portion of the college's advertising effort is directed toward building a corporate image for the college in this market. The college as corporation must see to it that students and parents are persuaded that they are "getting their money's worth." And, as in most cases where advertising is used, this means that some of the money that the consumers pay for the product is spent on trying to convince them that they have made the right purchase and should continue to buy. This buyer-seller relationship may appear at first glance to be exterior to the life of the college, a boring an unpleasant fact of institutional life. In fact, however,m this external financial framework seriously influences the internal educational process. Because students are encouraged by the system to regard themselves a s consumers of the educational product, they tend to adopt the mode of participation appropriate for the consumption of other "entertainment" products available in our society. Higher education becomes a "big show", a four- year telethon where students are essentially passive spectators. Any teacher who has led a seminar full of spectators knows the consequences. The financial framework tends to encourage selfishness, as well as passivity. Students and parents are urged to view their expenditure on education as a "wise investment"--as though adolescent human beings could be helpfully regarded as mini-firms which undertake educational investment now to reap the guaranteed financial benefits alter. The college makes it easy for students to fall in to positions of upper- class privilege by teaching them to expect such rewards. By granting degrees, the college ends up selling tickets to glory on the upper-class express. Because students are taught to see themselves primarily as consumers, they feel free to make great demands of the college, particularly of the faculty (whom they may view--at least in some respects--as their servants or employees). Students feel entitled to special consideration because they are paying for it. Many faculty, in turn, toady and pander to the student as consumer, engaging in a personally and intellectually degrading race for popularity. Faculty find themselves increasingly catering to students' whims, tolerating sloppy work and halfhearted participation. On the other hand, students feel that they have no obligations to the college, beyond meeting tuition payments. They are invited to participate in the "making of the college," but in fact they are not asked to contribute physical labor, to become genuinely responsible. Since the administration tries to anticipate every need of the student as consumer, there is little call for personal initiative. Students know, anyway, that they have no real access to decision-making in the hierarchical structure. They know that exhortations to "be involved, informed and participating" are empty rhetorical devices. In the college as corporation, students have no reason to see themselves as having any particular obligations to faculty, staff, or other students. Only the business office makes real demands on them. Students are swallowed up in a sad, lonely individualism: living in individual rooms, doing independent study, taking individualized exams, undergoing a privatistic identity crisis. Students have no sense of collective identity or shared purpose when they function as consumers. The result is loneliness, apathy, meaninglessness. 5. EDUCATION AS PRODUCT The college as corporation has the same basic purpose as the industrial corporation. It works to turn out a competitive product that will sell on the market. The college as corporation is concerned with efficiency, not with social responsibility. In general, the college as corporation never seriously examines its purpose. It claims to provide education and to further knowledge. But education to what end? Knowledge for what purpose? For whose benefit? Like the industrial corporation, the liberal college-corporation vigorously asserts its political neutrality. As Franklin Patterson stated in the First Commencement Address [22 May 1971]: In keeping with the tradition of free inquiry and free expression that Hampshire continues, this College is not and should never be an instrument of politics to be used by anyone--Right or Left or Center-- who thinks he has a monopoly on truth and who claims a right to bend the institution and its people to his special dogma or unique, revealed wisdom. In fact, however, the liberal college-corporation servers in general to maintain the status quo (the prev ailing ideology and prevailing class structure). It is true that the college's politics are never explicitly worked out, but its implicit ideology is no less political for that. the sociological composition of the student body and the ideological content of the curriculum are political tacts which the college as corporation never squarely faces. Since the fundamental ideology of the college as corporation is elitist, this fact can never be made explicit. To do so would alienate too many of the idealistic young. Rather than make it clear to students that they are being groomed to become the ruling elite of the future, the college prefers to allow students to wallow in their individual identity crises. It is easier to permit paralysis than to risk radicalization. At its worst, the college as corporation takes energetic young minds and confronts them with isolation, helplessness, and indirection. 6. SUMMARY Ultimately, the college as corporation cannot inspire the loyalty of any of its constituencies, because it has no purpose, in the dynamic sense of the word. As a corporation, the college does not seek to transform society, or even to fundamentally alter the lives of its members. It is an emotionally empty institution which does not meet the need for collective spirit or personal fulfillment. The college as corporation is organized into hierarchical, basically antagonistic classes, which are dominated by an entrepreneurial administration. Its ethic is competitive, individualistic, and elitist. As a corporation, the college is neither socially responsible nor socially critical. It is a man-power pipeline, an ideological conveyor belt. As such, it is joyless, hectic, and dehumanizing.