50th Anniversary

Whereas Leonard Schiff has led this Senate in its first year with exceptional devotion, wisdom, patience, and good nature through unusually difficult times; and Whereas Professor Schiff has rendered a significant service not only to the faculty of this University, but to the University community at large as well, by providing temperate, thoughtful, and effective leadership in dealing with deep and vexing problems; and Whereas this service has greatly assisted in establishing the Senate and a new mode of more reasoned and successful governance at Stanford; and Whereas we have all learned much concerning the good-humored management of sometimes bad-humored faculty Senators from his behavior as Chairman; Be it therefore resolved that this Senate expresses its deep appreciation and admiration to its first Chairman, Professor Leonard Schiff, for his leadership which has gone far beyond the call of duty; and extends to him its best wishes for the future.

Mr. Chairman, you are a man of many talents. You are an uncommon teacher, scholar, and administrator.             But most of us, most of the time, see you as the leader of the faculty. Throughout the year, you have led us with extraordinary skill and dedication. Your manner is a model: simple and clear. You find your way through the thicket of verbiage of Robert's Rules with ease and clarity. You have maintained your position, but have never abused the advantage of that position. Not that you suffer fools gladly or allow those to wander who use words as substitutes for thought. But the lessons that you have taught us-- when we stopped to listen -- are lessons from which we have all benefited.

 

I have spoken of your manner, your acumen, your style. We know there is more. You are a man of strong convictions resolutely held. But you have a rectitude in your official actions that is as strong as those convictions. Through it all you have set the tone of the Senate with great good humor.

 

Those on the Steering Committee realize that serving in the chair of the Senate is only one of your tasks. You have had at least two other full-time responsibilities -- leadership of the Steering Committee on the one hand and care of your Vice Chairmen on the other. We know that each of those undertakings has been at least as time­ consuming as maintaining this body on an even keel while in session.

 

Finally, all of us are aware, however dimly, that you have at least a dozen other full-time jobs in representing the faculty -­ adviser to the President, to the Provost, to the students, to the alumni, and last but not least -- to your friends and colleagues on the faculty.

 

Mr. Chairman, you have our gratitude, our affection, and our warmest regard.

 

Resolution:

 

On the occasion of the last regular meeting of 1969-70, the Senate expresses deep appreciation to its Chairman, William A. Clebsch.

 

While expediting the Senate's actions, he has scrupulously protected the right of each member to have his views considered.

 

While voicing his own convictions, he has fairly presented to persons outside this Senate the opinions of other members and of the faculty as a whole.

 

While remaining true to his own temperament, he has constantly been concerned above all with the effectiveness of the Senate and the welfare of the University.

 

In recognition of Bill Clebsch's balance, skill, and devotion, the Senate rises to vote its thanks to him.

We regret your absence, albeit on duty, from our last meeting. For we wish to overrule the Chair and to talk--yes, very briefly--about the Chairman. With energetic stride and sure foot, you walk the labyrinths of academic statesmanship. You call attention to issues, not persons. Your bright mind lights dark subtleties of problems. You stand sentinel to pitfalls and dead ends. By steady kindness you convert a certain impatience into a sure virtue. To parties in adversary you are unwaveringly fair. Primus inter pares, you remain one of us while you are chief among us. Thus, we greet you with undiluted thanks. This University is the better for your chairmanship of the Third Senate. So, one and all, are we!

The Chair expressed his appreciation for the privilege of serving as Chairman of the Senate. He commented upon what he had learned from the experience. President Lyman responded that if Chairman Bershader had learned a great deal from the experience it was because of the initiatives he had taken. The President expressed his appreciation particularly for Chairman Bershader having brought numbers of faculty members in small groups into informal discussions with officers of the University.

For his leadership through, and occasionally out of, the shifting sands of Senatorial Procedure, we collectively admire him;

 

For his good-humored forbearance on points of order that were often not orderly, and points of information that were too frequently uninformative, we are individually grateful;

 

For his succinct expression of the kernel of complex legislative issues, we congratulate him: an idea once in his head was always in a nutshell;

 

For the accuracy of aim of his critical comment when such was needed, we ruefully compliment him: he never failed to grasp the point and hit the nail squarely on the thumb;

For his scrupulous fairness in debate, dedication to effectiveness of the Senate and welfare of the University, we commend him. We thank him unreservedly and unanimously.

Professor Bach made a statement paying tribute to Professor Walecka's magnificent job as Chairman. He emphasized the sense of fairness and patience that Walecka had demonstrated as presiding officer, while stressing also the magnitude of the Chairman's responsibilities, not only within Senate meetings, but beyond them.

Professor Jack H. Friedenthal, Vice Chairman of the Senate, presented to Chairman Craig, on behalf of the Senate and its Steering Committee, an inscribed gavel to mark their appreciation for Craig's leadership of the Seventh Senate. The presentation was accompanied by suitable, elegant prose on Professor Friedenthal's part.

When higher authority decided I should make some brief remarks to our esteemed leader, I knew, Gene, it would be difficult to communicate an adequate expression of our feelings about you in your own terms. If only you spoke English! I hope my attempt is satisficing. Dearly beloved chairperson, you showed us how decision-making could be optimized. A main channel for information flow, you sought to maximize the sources of innovation. Believing in bounded rationality, you allowed collegial input while unobtrusively exercising executive prerogatives. You used humor as a facilitator of interpersonal interaction, especially at the interface of faculty and administrative search behavior. Finally, since you are a resource person on deadline behavior, you will perceive the adaptational significance of this curtailment of my speech behavior in order to fit the constraints of our fixed agenda, as I succinctly say, “Thanks from all your appreciative senatorial subordinates for a wonderful job as Chairperson of the 8th Senate.”

On behalf of the Steering Committee and the entire Ninth Senate, which shall hereafter be referred to as "party of the first part," I do hereby declare a willingness, ceteris paribus, to enter into a verbal contract with you, Byron Sher, Chairman of the Ninth Senate, who shall henceforth be termed "party of the second part.” Under terms of said contract, "party of the first part" does enter into an obligation to present unto “party of the second part" one gavel, wooden, manufactured, with standard inscription of praise, et cetera, as a token of “party of the first part's" sincere appreciation for, inter alia, valuable services rendered by "party of the second part" within the period beginning 30 September 1976 and continuing through the present day, May 26, 1977. Authority for "party of the first part" to enter into such a contract is believed to be contained, a fortiori, in the duly revised Articles of Organization of the Academic Council (sic). Acceptance of said gavel by “party of the second part" is conditional upon his pledge of, mutatis mutandis, continued good performance during the remainder of the current academic year. Finally, the terms of this contract require that “party of the second part” does hereby promise to forfeit all rights to said gavel and return it forthwith to the Academic Secretary if he should ever employ said gavel in his prospective future return engagement as mayor of a nearby municipality. Do you, Mr. Chairman, accept the terms of this contract? Chairman Sher expressed his gratitude to the Steering Committee and Senate, but did not audibly commit himself to the terms of the contract offered by Professor Pearson.

Having sat next to Professor Clebsch in this Senate for so many weeks, I wish to make four different points. I wish to make a point of order, a point of personal privilege, a point of historical comparison, and what I will call a point of spiritual analogy. First I call this body to attention in order that it may gratefully acknowledge the way in which you, Professor Stansky, have honored other historians who have sat in places of leadership. It was Tacitus who said, "reason and judgment are the qualities of a leader." You have possessed those qualities of reason and judgment, and we thank you. My point of personal privilege is to note that you have exercised this reason and judgment even though you have been given bad judgments by fellow members of your own Steering Committee, have suffered endless sidewalk supervision from your Fellow Representatives, and have had to consider matters so weighty as the wording on Stanford diplomas and so trivial as Western Culture. My point of historical comparison is to note that this Senate is now one decade old. And from what I know of next year's leadership, to paraphrase another historian, we are about to pass from an age of gold to an age of lead. You, Peter, have been part of the best of times these last ten years. My final point, the point of finality, is to encourage you now to avail yourself of the same spirit of serene detachment enjoyed by Lord Palmerston, when, after two terms as British Prime Minister, he looked back at some of the very vexing problems that had annoyed him in his time of office, and about one of them, a very troublesome question, I am sure you are familiar with it, of Schleswig-Holstein he had this to say: "There are only three men who have ever understood it, one was Prince Albert who is dead, the second was a German professor who became mad, and I am the third and I have forgotten all about it."

The Eleventh Senate shall shortly come to a blessed end like most of its predecessors. None too soon, I believe, as this afternoon will show. For those who will continue in the Twelfth version, supported by the strong mandate of less than half of those eligible to vote, as well as for those who, like me, have lost the confidence of our colleagues, this is a time of satisfaction. We have almost sat through all that we have to sit through and the summer is near. Tradition requires that, at this point, we evaluate the performance of our chairman. I do not know why; it seems too late for remedial action. But never mind. Unquestionably, Mr. Chairman, you have set some kind of example. To refer obscurely phrased motions to Professor Clebsch for rephrasing takes a fine common sense. To create concepts such as "quorum-like" attendance, or pseudo­ quorum or quasi- quorum, I do not quite remember, is an act of genius worthy of a Senior Senator from the English Department. We have also found that urging those who are present not to be absent will not increase attendance any more than urging those who are absent to be present. The Steering Committee, in its concern for the wellbeing of the Senate, managed to test, in a dignified fashion, the Chairman's value. We prevailed on the Alumni Association to drag Professor Chace, kicking and screaming I believe, off to the Mississippi on a sternwheeler. Although, predictably, this resulted in the highest flood in memory, the trip was a success. So was the substitution of another chairman, of impeccable dignity and leadership. As far as the evidence shows, the substitution went entirely unnoticed. The moral, I submit, is for the Twelfth Senate to maintain good relations with the Alumni Association. Where I come from, it is considered bad form to make gifts of scissors to brides lest they cut the marriage knot. Equally, one does not present men with hammers lest they think that their house is regarded as in disrepair. With some misgiving, therefore, I present you, Mr. Chairman, with this ambiguous token of our esteem [an inscribed gavel].

At the beginning of the academic year the 12th Senate asked the question -- "Can a professor with an Eastern establishment Ivy League background refined by 20 years at Stanford effectively guide the faculty political unit in the Wild West?"

 

Al Hastorf's extraordinarily successful leadership of the Senate is becoming history. My curiosity was stimulated to ascertain why and how he achieved this. Having been involved in appointments and promotions for 20 years, it follows that my resource obviously would be scrutiny of that academic divining rod, his Curriculum Vitae.

 

I asked myself the question -- "Is there a clue in Hastorf's publications?''

 

Since no good deed should go unpunished, I would like to cite selected publications that could be clues to the Hastorf Year.

 

His first paper 30 years ago gives some inkling as to his clairvoyance as he started to prepare himself for the pressures of political power.

 

Publication #2. "Some psychological errors in polling -- a few guides for interpretation.”

 

Let me give some homespun homilies of selected publications that rapidly followed.

 

Publication #9. "A note on the effect of explicit instructions on prestige suggestion." Lay translation: ''When you soar like an eagle it's easy to command a flock of turkeys."

 

Publication #11. "A caution respecting the measurement of empathic ability." "If you feel good about the way things are going, don't worry -- you'll get over it.''

 

Publication #14. "Homeostasis in psychology: a review and critique" -- The summary reads: "Keeping an academic group on an even keel takes simple love, understanding -- and a gun."

 

Hastorf has observed that even when a group perceives its agenda as trivial, it may really be -- he noted this in publication #17 -- "A preliminary study on the perception of a group and its relation to behavior in the group" -- which led to the policy: "Unless the Steering Committee can prove a topic to be irrelevant, it must be kept off the agenda."

 

I picked out just one sentence in publication #27 entitled "Experiments on alteration of group structure" -- and I quote: "In the beginning God made a group of idiots -- just for practice -- then he made an Academic Senate.''

 

Publication #28. "The Perceiver and the Perceived: Their Relative Influence on the Categories of Interpersonal Perception." The paper grew out of Al's sudden disturbing realization that people might one day choose not to sit behind their own name cards.

 

Publication #31. "Binocular rivalry as a function of incongruity in meaning," gave rise to the now well-known advice to every chairperson, and I quote: "When in doubt, mumble -- when in trouble -- delegate."

 

His final publication. "Acknowledgement of handicap as a tactic in social interaction" can be summarized in simple non- psychological terms: "Never play leapfrog with a unicorn."

 

In that Curriculum Vitae stuffer category called "In Preparation," I found one title the basis for which may be detectable in this Senate. It is called "Ventriloquistic Dependency -- A Stanford Senate Chairperson Syndrome" by Hutchinson and Hastorf.”

On behalf of the Steering Committee and the Senate, Professor Anderson presented to Chairman Keohane an engraved gavel and an inscribed version of the resolution of congratulation passed by the Senate in December 1980, when the news was made public of Keohane's appointment as President-Designate of Wellesley College.

 

Whereas Professor Nannerl Keohane has been selected as the next President of Wellesley College,

The Senate of the Academic Council of Stanford University expresses a mixture of responses to this information:

 

Great joy at the honor bestowed upon Professor Keohane and at her new opportunity to exercise her leadership, from which we have been benefitting in her chairing of the Senate, in this distinguished position;

 

Profound regret that we will lose her as a leader and a colleague whose outstanding teaching, scholarship and service to the University have graced our faculty; and

Warmest congratulations and best wishes for a brilliant future in our sister Institution.

On behalf of the Steering Committee and members of the Fourteenth Senate, I would like to express our thanks to you, David Abernethy, for your gracious and firm guidance throughout the year. You have deftly structured our sometimes-rambling thoughts, you have cut through mountainous reports with demanding questions, and you have reminded us that Senate matters, though always important, need not always be solemn. In thanks for this and much more, I present to you the symbol of your office this year--a gavel which will, I am sure, be used, as was its predecessor, to stamp out mixed metaphors and the other excesses of language over which you keep watch so well.

On behalf of the Steering Committee and the Fifteenth Senate of the Academic Council, I would like to take this opportunity to thank you, Sandy Fetter, for your leadership during this year. Your calm, good-humored approach to the discussion of divisive issues, your sensitivity to the feelings of others and your knowledge of the interactions of the university community have created an atmosphere in the Senate that promoted reasoned dialogue. This gavel, the traditional symbol of your office, is a token of our appreciation and thanks for your guidance this year.

There is a tradition, well known to many here, of making some final remarks to the Chair of the Senate at the end of the year. This year the Steering Committee, in one of its few lapses in judgment, has asked me to make these remarks -- which only teaches me again the wisdom of W. C. Fields’ famous remark: never be absent from a meeting at which jobs are assigned. Nevertheless, Craig, I greet this task with enthusiasm, for you have done a wonderful job. You have presided over a rare Senate, one which people -- indeed, even news reporters -- were trying to get into out of interest rather than out of in boredom. You have artfully guided debate on some of the great issues of our time: the establishment of a Presidential Library, the pursuit of weapons-related research, and the clash between Shakespearean scholarship and Artificial Intelligence. You have deftly navigated the Seven Seas (C's) -- no, I do not mean a cruise run by the Alumni Association, though such has been rumored, but rather, of course, C-AAA, C-RES, C-GS, C-UAFA, C-LIB, C-ACIS, and C-US. You have even helped the Senate extend its causal influence to the past -- to the chagrin of Philosophers who disbelieve such possibilities and Historians who just wish they wouldn't happen -- by gingerly teaching us the fine art of retroactive approval. And, finally, you have made great contributions to Stanford scholarship by showing the wisdom to cancel a meeting now and then. For all this and more I thank you, and give you this gavel as a token of our appreciation and esteem. Thanks, Craig, you've been great.

It is traditional to express, with appropriate ceremony, the gratitude of this body to its Chair. I do this with great pleasure, for John Henry Merryman, that happy amalgam of legal scholar, art connoisseur and musician, a person who represents that broad catholic taste which defines a distinguished professor. One might think that this catholicity derives from the senior Merrymans' calling their little boy "John Henry" in memory of Cardinal Newman. Although the color is right, in fact Professor Merryman was named for another John Henry, that epic railroader noted for his lines "I know a man ain't nothin' but a man/But before I let your steam drill beat me down/I'll die with a hammer in my hand.”

 

The musical side of Professor Merryman was evidenced early. Indeed, his coming to Stanford derives from that ability. Because of the comparatively low pay in the Law School -- compared to that of the Philosophy department -- he refused Stanford offers until he was financially independent, a condition reached in 1953 after the financial and critical success of his well-known cantata: (scored for eight electric mandolins) "If the phone don't ring, you'll know its me.”

 

We all know his accomplishments in the Law School and in this body. In a symbolic representation of the dualism and the essential dialectic of the law, he saw to it that the Law School building is bracketed with two pieces of sculpture -- a falcon in the front, soaring, and a grasshopper in the back, twitching. A better description of the character of jurisprudence would be hard to find.

 

Further, his seminal work in the field of intellectual ownership is particularly marked by the doctrinal analysis that turned the field completely around and has created a new paradigm, represented by his course: Patents and Copywrongs.

 

Finally, he is notable for being the only Law School professor and, in the long and arduous history of this Senate, the only Faculty Senate Chair to be evicted from a classroom in his own building. Although the President gave what sounded at the time like a plausible explanation of Merryman's eviction (you will recall that was a series of thin allegations of bureaucratic incompetency), a revisionist suggests that it might have derived from the recent revelation that Professor Merryman teaches a course euphemistically labeled Law in Radically Different Cultures; it is known to the students as Radcults. One might reflect again on the President's cover story. I think one need not go to conspiratorial theories to believe that some people may have found that out and that that prejudiced our leader.

 

And so, John Henry, with the proxy of this Senate, I present this symbolic intellectual hammer, wrapped in the appropriate cardinal color for which you are not named, with the respect and with the affection of your colleagues.

In rural Liberia, where I have conducted most of my fieldwork as an anthropologist, unschooled speakers of the local African language often become bilingual in a pidgin form of the country's official language, English. Some of the expressions in that far away form of English contain much of the lively metaphor of the speakers' native African tongue. For example, a person unwilling to perform a task or lacking the skill to do so will say: "I can't able. No, my people, I can't able." The Eighteenth Senate has been fortunate indeed to be chaired by a man who is truly able. On behalf of the steering Committee and all of the members of the Eighteenth Senate I move an enthusiastic vote of thanks to you, the able Professor Abel. As a specialist in communication you undoubtedly were intrigued to witness the florescence of the question period following the reports of the President and the Provost. But you have been mindful of duty and gently steered us to the rest of the agenda. You have shown a judicious combination of firmness and flexibility and sensitivity to the spirit of the senatorial body. We shall remember this Senate and your chairmanship as the time when the faculty began to reexamine the course sequences satisfying the Western Culture requirement. But even more we shall remember this as the era when faculty borrowers of library books were encouraged to say, "I can able here's the book."

In contemplating why a man of Arrow's distinction might have chosen to devote his time to chairing the faculty Senate, several possible reasons crossed my mind:

 

1) I first considered the attraction of lunch every two weeks with a stimulating yet compliant Steering Committee. I thought this was a real, but not a sufficient, reason for a year of hard work.

 

2) The second thought was that he might need to improve his record in the area of university service. A quick review of his history, however, showed this to be absurd. He has served as department chairman, has chaired and served on countless committees, and has much more than "hoed his row" in this institution.

 

3) I then turned to the possibility that he might need to augment his list of honors. This one I took seriously. A man who has received honorary degrees from a dozen institutions around the globe and something like two dozen prizes, distinguished lectureships, and academy appointments sets high standards for himself and has to run fast just to stay in place. He has to be willing to seek honor in pretty arcane places. The record shows, after all, that he was even prepared to travel to a Scandinavian country with a decidedly modest GNP in order to receive a prize. In the end, however, I decided that the honor of chairing our Senate could not rationally justify the expenditure of effort.

 

4) Finally, I realized that the key to Arrow's behavior lies, in fact, with that word -- rationality. For about thirty- five years he has been publishing papers on the theory of rational choice. Having noted Michel Foucault's ideas on the symbiotic relationship between reason and irrationality, I decided that Arrow must have become determined to open up a new field of inquiry: the theory of irrational choice. Now, I ask you, what better place to do field work on irrational choice than in the Academic Senate? I feel confident that we will shortly be treated to a whole series of masterworks on this theme, and I can only hope that Arrow has the kindness to disguise his examples so that we do not see our own portraits too clearly in his publications.

Colleagues and friends, I have risen to do honor and to give thanks to our Chair, Jerry Lieberman. And yet, even as I rise, questions sweep through me which induce me to resort to the ancient literary topos of recusatio namely calling into doubt or abandoning beliefs or undertakings or opinions formerly held. Why should I do honor to Jerry Lieberman? Has he ever taken me with him down to the sidelines at a Stanford football game? Has he ever invited me to share his plush box seat at a basketball game, even after I know he has glimpsed me looking beseechingly in his direction from the squalid and remote family section? My rhetorical passion now is close to full flood, and -- MOVING RIGHT ALONG -- I am drawn to the figure of praeteritio, in which one presents clinching points by affecting to pass them by. I omit, therefore, any such question as: has he ever loaned me that blood red coat? I will not deign to ask: has he ever, whether in the Senate or in the Steering Committee, allowed even one of my trenchant witticisms to go untopped? The list of indignities, my friends, if I were crass enough to rehearse it, is very long indeed. Why, then, should I do honor to you, Jerry Lieberman? I fear the moment of disarming truth has come. Because we love you and respect you. For your fairness; for your firmness. For your devotion to this University and to this Senate. For your exemplary leadership in our Great Debate: without your sensitive ability to make everyone feel included and valued, no workable consensus would ever have been achieved. And, most certainly for your power with words: coaxing words, argumentative words, authoritative words, words that relieve tension and bring a room together. As was remarked admiringly of Pericles, peitho tis epekathizen epi tois cheilesin, "Persuasion herself, it seemed, sat on his lips." For all this and much more, in a genuinely long list, we your colleagues love and respect you, and in token of our feelings we present you with the traditional gavel.

By custom, the Senate thanks its Chair at year's end for his or her leadership by presentation of a gavel. This year it is my privilege and pleasure to express the Senate's thanks to John Kaplan. Professor Kaplan is a man noted for his extraordinary intelligence coupled with remarkably good sense, a combination of qualities not always found in academics. He has an exceptional sense of humor and fair play – qualities that endear him to his friends, and which surely helped in his election to Senate Chair. Although he conducted our Senate meetings for only a portion of the year, John chaired the meetings of your Steering Committee all year long, and kept it, and thus the Senate, religiously to its tasks. His good judgment steered us consistently along the right path. We are fortunate to have had his leadership this year. It is sad for all of us that Professor Kaplan is not able to be here with us today so that Senators can express their appreciation personally. We send him this gavel as a mark of thatappreciation and with our very great affection and best wishes.

I have been asked to follow John Brauman’s tribute to our brave Chairman, John Kaplan, with a few words about our Vice Chairperson, Pat Jones. I believe there is no precedent for such a sequel; but then in the twenty- one year history of the Senate there has been no previous instance of its Chair being struck down and so disabled that its Vice Chair had to assume many, and often all, of the responsibilities of the position. And those responsibilities are more than meet the eye of most of us, who have no reason to be much aware of the behind-the-scenes effort necessary to ensure that Senate business is dealt with in a timely fashion and that the reports we receive are all as lucid, objective, informative, thoughtful, and procedurally correct as we know them all to be.

I am glad I was assigned this role because it gives me an opportunity to say, "I told you so." A year ago, when John Kaplan was still well and strong and looking forward to chairing the daylights out of us, he called each member of the newly elected Steering Committee to ask for our advice about who the Vice Chair should be. To me he said: "George, you are a
sensible fellow. I think Pat Jones would be an excellent choice, and no doubt you think so too." "John, I said, "You have taken the words right out of my mouth." And so he had, as a matter of fact, because I knew what
a great Vice Chair Pat had been on the search committee for a new Dean of Humanities and Sciences. In that case she had been the person recommended for Vice Chair by the Committee on Committees; and, although I scarcely
knew her at the time and had some misgivings about the judgment of a group that had chosen me to chair the search, being a sensible fellow I accepted its recommendation. I soon discovered something about her that placed the
wisdom of the Committee on Committees beyond dispute and instantly identified her as a person of distinguished taste, long-suffering patience and loyalty, terrific resilience, optimism, and, finally, unquenchable personal warmth in the most chilling conditions. Pat, I discovered, is a San Francisco Giants baseball fan.

Of course she is other and, I must admit, rather more special things as well: a splendid colleague, university citizen, Senate leader, and, not least, role-model for women students and faculty. I am not sure whether a person can be a truly effective role model for one of the University’s constituencies without also being, in important respects, a model for us
all. Certainly Pat is both.

In spite of budget deficits and the advent of no-free-lunch austerity at Stanford, Jim Rosse has authorized the award of two gavels this year. In years to come, the 21st Senate will be known as the Two-Gavel Senate.

Pat, on behalf of the Steering Committee, it is my privilege to present to you this symbol of an important job well done. I know that all our Senate colleagues join me in thanking you for a wonderful clutch performance:
would that Giants pinch-hitters and relief pitchers always came through as you have.

Carolyn, your colleagues in the Senate know that there is an unusually large amount of business to cover during this afternoon's session. We also know how organized you are and how you are always in control of events in this room. Please be advised, therefore, that for the next two minutes you are not in control.

 

This last session, however full, should not go by without your receiving the accolades of your colleagues here assembled. We especially want to thank you for this year's highlights—your calm assurances that a two-stage decision process would eliminate the need for any discussion during the second phase; how three points in a row do not constitute a line; and all those other profound points which in the overwhelming excitement of our deliberation we failed to record for posterity.

 

On a more serious note, we do thank you for your leadership—in this room and outside it—as general spokesperson for the faculty, as faculty representative on the Repositioning Committee—even in meeting with President Gorbachev. Indeed, I think Clark Kerr probably had you specifically in mind when, in one of his Godkin lectures, he defined the ideal academic leader: educator, wielder of power, officeholder, caretaker, inheritor, consensus seeker, persuader, and mediator.

 

As someone who has both admired and worked with you for many years, I am particularly pleased to have the honor of presenting you with this gavel on behalf of the Twenty-Second Senate in recognition of your superb leadership.

With comments both warm and humorous, he expressed the Senate's gratitude to Charles Kruger for the "decorum, grace, good humor, dignity and common sense" with which he had presided over the Twenty-Third Senate. Sheehan then presented Kruger with a personally engraved gavel, the symbolic gift traditionally given by each Senate to its outgoing chair and the Senate applauded his leadership.

This year has been a particularly busy and difficult year for the Senate. Much of our usual agenda was postponed to deal with a major fiscal crisis that could have deeply divided the faculty. To avoid this divisiveness, you worked with the Senate Committee on Education and Scholarship at Stanford and the Senate to assure broad faculty input into the budget reduction process. In addition to moderating faculty Senate discussion on these issues, you moderated town meetings of the faculty to assure that full faculty discussions of the budget reduction occurred. Your ability to promote and focus these discussions without limiting them helped relieve the tension associated with these difficult Issues. In the midst of all this, when called upon by the University, you served as Vice Chair of the Search Committee for the next President of the University. All of these activities were in addition to teaching History 3, a class of approximately 300 students, and supervising a section in the course. What I will remember most about your Senate Chairmanship is the consummate style and grace that you brought to the performance of all of your Senate duties.

This has been an eventful year. You have guided a new President through the Scylla and Charybdis of campus concerns. You have guided us as both "Umpire and Quality Controller" through
decisions on such diverse issues as University Orals, property rights for software, conflict of commitment and of interest, sexual harassment, and approval of more interdisciplinary programs than you may care to remember. At every turn you have shown patience, warmth of feeling, and above all the ability to diagnose problems with accuracy and speed.

You have kept us all ears—beeper watchers have listened in vain for their first chairman known to wear a beeper to be called away, but the beep has persisted in coming to the sidelines not to
the central desk.

As the chairman who canceled a record number of senate meetings, we suspect you may have been gratified by the repeated opportunity to thank both President and Provost for the brevity of
their (non)-reports.

We will remember with fondness the day when, unaware that the Senate cannot adjourn itself without a quorum, you let it do so notwithstanding.

But most of all we will remember and honor you for moving us through some long-winded and complicated votes on motions, with fairness and thoughtfulness for all. And although Robert [of Robert’s Rules] might on occasion have found cause to grumble, even he would have applauded your resolute determination to make this, the twenty-fifth year of the Faculty Senate, the year of common sense. You have repeatedly prevented us from getting submerged in wordsmithing, and have steered us firmly on the Northway High Road to conceptualization and policy. You have set new standards for the second quarter-century of this august body that future senators will ignore at their peril.

Prefacing his remarks with the comment that she was going to be his boss next year (she will succeed Simoni as chair of the biological sciences department), he cited her leadership in the many legislative and discussion matters that had come before the Senate this year: sexual harassment policy, recruitment and retention of women faculty, faculty housing, the policy on Conflict of Interest and Commitment, and the policy on Grading Practices. But, he said to broad grins from Senators, her legacy would be the policy on cross-listing courses, a complicated, contentious issue that had been sent back to committee accompanied by headshaking from all concerned.

 

Simoni praised Jones' "extraordinary time commitment," including her efforts in the matter of students seeking faculty support for Asian American studies. So much was accomplished, Simoni told Senators, because she had extraordinary skills that bring disparate views toward consensus, and has extraordinary patience in listening as "some colleagues blabbed on and on."

He referred, too, to her strong interest in athletics: "those who sit ...anywhere on the sunny side of the stadium can hear your suggestions to Coach Walsh on football strategy."

 

"Your successor will have an impossible act to follow," he said of himself. He presented her with a gavel as a symbol of the "the enormous respect, affection and thanks of your colleagues."

Robert Simoni has been well-known at Stanford University this year for his good humored yet firm leadership of the raucous crowd that gathers in this room on Thursday afternoons. He has opened the Senate to wide-ranging discussion and brought us to important votes on undergraduate requirements. Secretly, he is known to the Steering Committee for his
tireless behind the scenes effort to bring this year's complex business to conclusion. For all of this he deserves warm praise and hearty thanks
from each of us.

But, before the Senate heaps honors upon Simoni, it should consider other aspects of his behavior during this year as chair.

Questions have been asked about his mysterious disappearance during the spring quarter. Although Simoni spread a cover story that he was on a special secret mission for the National Institutes of Health in Washington, the truth is now known because I happen to be visiting France this month.

Simoni actually spent this shrouded time on a wildcat trip to Europe aimed at convincing the French and the Italians of the superiority of California wine in general--and, in particular, of the superiority of that product made annually in Simoni's Palo Alto garage.

After investigation here in the heart of Burgundy I can now report that Simoni left indelible memories. In each of many critical evaluations he condemned the Burgundian product inferior and, on the basis of his enormous scientific and institutional reputation, decreed in public that the Burgundians had better start growing wheat instead of wine.

I am told that next year's Senate Chair, Gail Mahood, will conduct a thorough investigation of this abuse of power. For today, however, I recommend and so move that Simoni's crimes--great though they have been--be deemed as overbalanced by his remarkable service as Chair of the XXVllth Senate.

Osgood said that his first thought was to compose a brief epic poem. Finding Hamlet to apply more to next year’s chair (“There is nothing more in heaven and earth, and in this room, than is dreamed of in your philosophy.... department, Michael Bratman.”) and Keats’ Ode to a Nightingale to be a description of the Senate too accurate to improve upon (“Here, where men sit and hear each other groan........Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden-eyed despairs....”), he turned to something more contemporary.

 

Mighty Mahood in the Chair

 

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Senate 28.

The PPB had just reported, and the budget might be late.

 

The CUE had said its piece,

And Simoni had his day.

The CoC still had ol’ Wally

to cajole, to call, to pray.

 

But who would sit with strength to muster,

Who’d be cool, be calm, be fair?

Who’d stay awake through all the bluster?

’Twas Mighty Mahood in the chair.

 

There was ease in Mahood’s manner,

“Sure, this job will be a cinch,”

Though, Marlene, Susan, Patrick, Trish

called signals in a pinch.

 

And Gerhard stood behind the plate,

And tried to say “Play Ball.”

But Condi whispered in his ear,

“It’s football in the Fall!”

 

Ramón, he pitched advising,

and Condi did agree,

But Mike Fayer threw a curve ball,

“Don’t forget the Ph.D.!”

 

Rob Polhemus stretched and gestured,

To be clear and to the point.

But when Rembrandt went to Paris,

He jus’ ‘bout broke up the joint.

 

Now, seasons in the Senate have some ebb and then some flow.

And student sensibilities might have to take a blow.

For on that day, that fateful day, of which the Daily wrote,

The kids were apoplectic by the force of Mahood’s vote.

 

“Kill her! Kill the umpire--er chair!” said someone in a letter.

But those of us who know her well, know best or maybe better.

It wasn’t out of malice, and there is no need to fear,

But every now and then it’s just that someone--has to steer.

 

Oh, somewhere in this favored land schools sink into despair.

And Presidents, and Provosts too, give up and pull their hair.

But we can bask in sunshine and pretend we’re at the fair,

For there was truly joy at Stanford

When Mighty Mahood

Was the chair.

To mark Bratman’s final session as gavel-wielder, I offer a ditty, whose debt to the literary giant Ogden Nash will be readily apparent (groaning permitted).

 

This was the year our friend Michael

Led his colleagues skillfully through the legislative cycle.

 

In a clear and stentorian voice,

Our chair posed time and again the fateful choice:

 

"How many yes, and no, and abstain?

Can we assume the complete cluelessness of the uncommitted voters

who remain?"

 

During Michael’s tenure we had a refresher course in what many

Stanford acronyms mean:

C-ACIS, MCL, COC, IDP, TA, C-15.

 

Although at times the task wasn't what one would call fun,

Our chair kept us on track to decide the future of Area One.

 

From now until well past retirement,

No one in Senate XXIX will forget that Stanford has a “resonance

education” requirement.

 

We boldly debated whether it was misleading - nay, hubristic

To speak of methodologies humanistic.

 

Polhemus, Fernald, Zoback, Brutlag, Popp:

Their labors were impressive, and their recommendations kept us

busy. But it's time to stop.

 

Many thanks to our chair for showing the Senate and the Stanford

community that we don't have to dread

Directly confronting difficult issues in American higher ed.

Setting off a loud beeper, Professor Parker made the following remarks.

 

If a beeper in my hands seems unusual, please note that none of us at the Business School used to carry a beeper until the stock market went over 9,000. Now we all need to carry one to know when to run for the exit. All in this room are aware that this is the last meeting of the Conley Senate, otherwise known as the Thirtieth Senate of the Academic Council of Stanford University. As a humble member of both your Steering Committee and this Senate, I wish to have the floor for a moment to thank you, Professor Conley, for all you have achieved in capably leading this magnificently heterogeneous, non- affinity group for the past three academic quarters. You have actually made the oxymoron of faculty leadership seem plausible.

 

It’s no surprise that you have been successful in your task, for there is an aspect of your background that is not well known by many here. Your superb credentials as a neurosurgeon are known to all in this room. What is less well known is that you are also a bona fide alumna of Stanford’s own Graduate School of Business, where you received a Master’s degree in 1986 while on sabbatical from the Medical School. To have one of our graduates leading a not-for- profit is not so common. So we are especially pleased to celebrate it when it comes to pass. And to celebrate, I cannot help but note that you have worn your business school uniform today [a bright, tie-dyed tee shirt].

 

You have ably and affably presided over 14 Senate meetings this year. These have included 17 memorial resolutions, the renewal of 13 interdisciplinary programs, 11 actions on academic policy, often after animated debate, and ten informational reports from schools and campus support functions. You have also presided over 15 meetings of your loyal Steering Committee. Your Senate colleagues have watched you indulge our dialogue with consummate patience and without once reaching for your scalpel with the intent of performing an emergency lobotomy. Nor have you ever succumbed to turning on your beeper for relief. Although neurosurgeons are used to wielding sharper, more delicate instruments, it is my pleasure to present you with this blunt instrument, one that is sometimes maximally useful in a faculty gathering -- a ceremonial gavel for the Thirtieth Senate of Stanford University.

It is a pleasure and an honor for me to recognize your leadership in the Thirty-first Senate and your political skills in addressing some of the burning issues of Stanford life.

 

But of course, you had already solved most of these problems as the editor of the Chaparral in the early 1960s. So we decided to go right back to the source to check what we had missed. For those of you who have never seen the Hammer and Coffin, the Chaparral was a Stanford campus humor magazine that liked to think of itself as the black sheep of the Stanford family.

 

Just as he kept the Senate in line, Brad managed to “lead the good taste parade and ensure that the Chaparral could be read to your mom, your kid sister, your minister, and your ASSU representative”. Indeed, Brad, also known as the Old Boy, also known as Mad Dog, had already contributed at that time to:

 

• engineering, with his famous work on how to make a bookmark out of a beer can;
• biology - the fetal development of a fraternity man, in which a beer can appears around the eighth month (seems to be a recurring theme); and
• the classical, time-honored field of questionable literature with an immortal rendition of “Lady Chatterley&rsquo ;s Likes”.

 

But the Chaparral under Brad’s leadership had also tackled some of the perennial issues of the Farm. For example, parking. Ah parking, this one will always be with us! In an incisive policy study, the Chappies contemplated some innovative solutions and wondered in print whether the best place to park on campus could possibly be: the cactus garden, the President’s driveway, or under Memorial Arch. And you, my esteemed colleagues of the Senate, probably thought that we had exhausted all possibilities!

 

And now for something entirely different. The Old Boy and his friends kept a file of letters to the Student Admission Office in which I found this intriguing request: “Sirs: I told my mother I did not want to go to college. My mother told me I had to go to college. I told my mother I did not want to go to Stanford. My mother told me I had to go to Stanford. Will you accept my mother?” (Good thing my kids were not born yet.)

 

In conclusion, ladies and gentlemen, if you think that this year in the Senate was hilarious, it’s because (I quote the Chaparral at that time): “’Tis better to have thought about Stanford philosophy of education than never to have laughed at all.” That was page 8. I think I will censor page 9.

 

But now Brad, talking seriously: you were great at that time, you have done great things since then, and you have done a great job as leader of the Senate. What I have enjoyed the most in working with you, is the sense of humor that you had then and that you have now, and the sense of independence that allows you to think out of the box, joking or not.

Now we all agree that it’s been a wonderful year in the Senate, with important issues and important discussions. And this is due in no small measure to your leadership. So, as a small token of our esteem, I would like to offer a musical appreciation, in swashbuckling style, accompanied by Jack Conway on guitar. I have checked, and I’m protected by tenure for what I’m about to do. And Jack is protected by being a loan officer and holding the mortgages to many homes on campus. I encourage Senators to participate at the appropriate times by either shouting “Olé!” or “Cha cha cha!”

 

[to the tune of “Theme to the Mark of “Zorro”]

 

He came from the west

Just outside of Tucson.

In his time at Stanford

He put the right moves on.

When the Judicial System went all out of whack

Who did they call?

They called Mark Zoback!

 

Zoback! Zoback! Zoback!

In moments you will be free.

Zoback! Zoback! Zoback!

Next year . . . it will be me!

 

The protesters came

They made quite a ruckus.

But he didn’t budge

He sat on his . . . chair.

 

Every issue he did fearlessly attack.

That’s the Mark, the Mark of Zoback.

Yes, he’s Mark. Oh he’s Mark Zoback!

 

The projection screen rose to reveal a large “Z” on the blackboard behind Zoback. Osgood bounded to the front of the room and, with a bow and a flourish, presented the chair with the traditional gift of an engraved gavel.

With apologies to Gilbert and Sullivan and their "Major General" song (from The Pirates of Penzance ) and with thanks to Luke Rickford, Professor David Abernethy, and Irina Sharogradskia, who is assisting with lyrics, singing, and clavinova accompaniment, respectively, I encourage everyone to join in on the refrains, “since we need all the help we can get.”

 

He is the very model of a modern Stanford Senate chair,

He talks so fast he gets us through two years of work in just one year.

He power-points us forward with good focus and efficiency

And won't participate in plagiarism or delinquency.

 

His ethics and his reasoning are perfect and exemplary

He caters to the students, staff, and faculty inseparably.

Nike swooshes on our namecards are not something that we fear

With lion-hearted Osgood as our leader in the Senate chair.

 

Refrain:

With lion-hearted Osgood as our leader in the Senate chair.

With lion-hearted Osgood as our leader in the Senate chair.

With lion-hearted Osgood as our leader in the Senate chair.

 

He is the very model of a modern major general,

Or rather, we should say, he is a modern Stanford liberal.

He tolerates opinions from conservative to radical

And even hears out points of view that some would call fanatical.

 

Refrain:

He tolerates opinions from conservative to radical.

And even hears out points of view that some would call fanatical.

 

Brad's even-handed, fair, indeed he's always rather affable.

He never stoops to mockery of statements that are laughable.

He's never been pedantic, and his jokes are all hilarious.

The minutes fly in double-time with Osgood taking care of us.

 

In turn we've taken care of all the business that's been thrust on us,

Reforming residency rules and Biz school grades without a fuss.

We've grappled with the problems of accommodating IDPs

Reauthorizing seven, and creating Archaeology.

 

Refrain:

Reauthorizing seven, and creating Archaeology.

Reauthorizing seven, and creating Archaeology.

Reauthorizing seven, and creating Archaeology.

 

We've also heard reports on housing, GUP, and women faculty

And ventured forth to SLAC in buses all their goings-on to see.

We close today with budget and community relationships.

Then Brad is off to Paris, au revoir, adieu, enjoy your trip!

 

Refrain:

We close today with budget and community relationships.

Then Brad is off to Paris, au revoir, adieu, enjoy your trip!

The recent tradition of having the vice chair sing a tribute to the outgoing chair stops now. Wandering “from the foothills to the bay, searching for the right words of praise, I found a bottle of Caribbean rum, with, to my amazement, a note in it,” which I will read.

 

Sonnet XXXIV

 

How thou didst promise such a beauteous day

When to the Senate chair thou wert elect

To us from far Guyana’s distant sway

Thou camst by paths subtle and indirect

Thou from the Carib sea did bring thy work

On England’s progeny, far flung creole

But Oakland’s new Ebonics thou’d not shirk

Thine broad research we dar’st not pigeon-hole

The Senate chamber rang oft loud and hot

On mysteries deep and dark – five years or eight?

Thine calm and grace, Johnny on the spot,

Each tempest in its turn thou didst abate

All present here sing praise to thee, our John

For Senate Thirty-four thou wert “da Mon”

 

Greely then added a limerick, “for those with lower tastes,” while presenting Rickford with the traditional gift of an engraved gavel and a framed certificate.

 

As the Senate through its year did travel

Our chair’s calm not once did unravel

He came from Guyana

To be top banana

But all that he gets is this gavel

 

Professor Jones:

I'm actually quite concerned about a project that I've heard you are doing with some colleagues at the Medical School. I know you're interested in, and an expert on, cloning. I also have been given inside information that there is a secret project in full force, with undisclosed amounts of financial support from Cloning Technologies, to generate a bunch of Hank Greely clones to perpetuate your role with the Steering Committee and in the Senate.

 

Dean Pizzo:

The proposal was initially rejected as being unethical, but if it succeeded would be declared ethical.

 

President Hennessy:

The Law School has given its blessing to the project.

 

Jones (puzzled):

Will success in this awful idea (after all, they have recently cloned a mule, haven’t they?) generate a conflict of interest?

 

[Suddenly, from the wings, arrived the clones! Six Greely look-alikes—obviously clones, appeared. They each had white scraggly hair, wore knit sweaters (large), and sported white mustaches. All in attendance were taken aback. The Trustees in attendance were somewhat scandalized.]

 

Chairman Greely:

This intrusive bunch looks like the Steering Committee of Senate 35. I realized this morning that I had remarkably few awful sweaters in my drawer to choose from.

 

The Clones (chanting a poem (resembling Samuel Taylor Colerridge’s Kubla Khan):

 

In Senate, would the Greely clone,

A stately new regime decree,

 

Where resolutions and reports

On budgets, majors, rules, and sports

Would proceed in numbers infinite

 

So twice the senators, at least,

Would be here every time we meet.

 

And in discourse bright with phrases long

Would blossom many a well-crossed t

 

Nothing would ever be done wrong

 

We'd work carefully and colorfully

If the Greely clones in the Senate did sit.

 

Dean Pizzo:

Despite the failure of this cloning experiment to go through the Institutional Review Board, I am always on the side of successful ventures. The attempt to clone succeeded! Now the marketing and sales campaign for this product can begin.&rdquo ;

Before I read the following remarks and comments from our vice chair, Hester Gelber, who's at Oxford at the moment, and regrets not being here today, I want to thank you, Tom, personally, on behalf of the Steering Committee of the Senate and on behalf of the entire Senate for your sterling job as our chair. Your Dinkelspiel Award is well deserved for your service to Stanford, for your service to the Faculty Senate, and for your service to faculty governance. And, I remind you, I am very pleased that you only told me ONCE to ‘shut up!’ ”

 

“Norm, shut up!” said Chairman Wasow, with a smile.

 

That is the second time! Thank you. I feel better. Now, colleagues, pretend this is Hester Gelber speaking.

 

We're about to say farewell to your leadership of what has been an eventful Senate year. It has been a time of both controversial and informational reports. Action items that produced much discussion and others that went through with barely a ripple. Budget constraints meant fewer meetings, and the elimination of coffee, and the first ever recorded Senate session to go up on the Web site. Well, not really [because of technical problems]. But we'll worry about that later on. Among the more heated topics of the year, we looked at the reorganization of the general education requirements, the rollout of the new Oracle financial system, the predatory pricing policies of some large publishing houses which will remain unnamed, at least here, with a call for faculty not to cooperate, and new conflict of interest guidelines.

 

We've had very significant reports as well, from the Advising Center, from Overseas Studies, from the Provost who has suggested changes in retirement benefits, from the Vice Provost for Student Affairs, from the survey of Faculty Quality of Life, from the dean of the Law School, and from the Provost's Advisory Committee on the Status of Women. Last, but not least, we should not forget the announcement of the birth of Bob Simoni's new grandchild! “You have managed this eventful year with grace and an evenhanded recognition of senators’ hands raised in the air, and the ability to keep us all on track through a busy agenda. And this, parenthetically, is true of your management of the Steering Committee as well.

 

Therefore, commemoration of your deft leadership cannot go by without the appropriate poetic celebration [and remember, this is Hester Gelber, your vice-chair, writing and speaking]

 

With quiet mien

And soft refrain

Our leader’s led us true;

‘Gainst Elsevier

And Oracles drear

Our leader’s led us through.

 

No athlete proud

Nor budget cloud

Our leader did dismay;

Through time constraints

And Senate ‘plaints

Our leader saved the day.

 

Magnanimous

And generous

As we can all report;

Live’s quality

And equity

Our leader did support.

 

At the end of the year

With summer near

The gavel’s here well tendered.

Three cheers for Tom

Who’s always calm

The gavel’s here well rendered!

Ever since Trish Del Pozzo told me I had to do this, I must warn you, I’m frightened. [President Hennessy, among others, had difficulty believing this.]

 

I’ve been dreading it, dreading it, and dreading it, because I knew I would be surrounded by eloquent colleagues and I would have to follow this eloquent soliloquy by our chairman…. I worked very hard on this on the airplane today. On behalf of my steering committee colleagues—Al Camarillo, Henry Elam, Andrea Goldsmith, Roger Noll, Doug Osheroff, Provost Etchemendy, Academic Secretary Ted Harris, and Assistant Academic Secretary, Trish Del Pozzo—I am honored to present these thanks to you, our most august and revered of Faculty Senate chairs, Rob Polhemus.

 

As Diane Middlebrook said about you when discussing your book Atonement, you are one of the most passionate, popular, and honored of teachers of our time as well as the author of numerous works about the role that fiction plays in revealing us to each other. She talks about your sweep and your approach to literature. So… I thought it was only fitting that I should draw on literature to do my toast to you. This is a slightly improvised Cervantes, because you are a modern day Don Quixote.

 

May I set the stage? I shall impersonate a man. Come enter into my memory and see him. His name: Rob Polhemus, an English professor. No longer young, bony, hollow-faced, but with eyes that burn with the intensity of inner vision. Being tenured, he has much time for books. He writes from morn to night, and often through the night as well. He also reads, and much that he reads oppresses him. It fills him with the indignation of man’s betrayal of man and science’s of the arts. So he conceives of a method to address the oppression. He shall become Chair of the Senate. He shall sally forth with a great passion to right these wrongs. No longer shall he be a ‘plain English professor’, but a fearless and undaunted university leader. Though inconsistencies, weaknesses, and professional horrors may abound, a holy endeavor of truth and knowledge will succeed.”

 

[Then, incredibly, Phyllis Gardner began to sing, in a delicate voice, a contralto verging upon a soprano, with a haunting tune. The music itself has dissipated into the air of the Law School…only the words remain.]

 

Hear me now, oh, though bleak and unbearable world, thou are based and debauched as can be. But the chair with his gavel all bravely unfurled, now hurls down his gauntlet to thee!

 

Now, think, Oppenheim’s sculpture, “The Church” hurling down.

I am I, Rob Polhemus, the chair of the Senate.

My destiny calls and I go.

 

Vast dollars from dollars will carry us onward.

To arts and humanities, money will flow!

 

As the notes died away there was vociferous applause, and cries of ‘Bravo’ and ‘Encore’ from the Senators and guests who had crowded into the standing-room-only sections.

 

[For her encore, speaking, not singing, Professor Gardner continued.]

I want you to know that through your eloquence, your great perspicacity, with the support of big brain Noll, and with the perspicacious questioning of Bob Simoni, et cetera, et cetera, you have prevailed! President Hennessy and Provost Etchemendy have agreed to double the budget of the English department!

I want to thank you for your excellent leadership of the 38th Faculty Senate. With great care and expediency you have managed the work of the Faculty Senate through academic year 2005-06. You made it one of your objectives to reach out to undergraduate and graduate students so their voices could be heard. You have moved along our meetings with dispatch by introducing parliamentary procedures few Senate chairs have used in the past. You were tough but kind with time limits for those who made presentations and reports to the full Senate and you prepared them well during their visits at the Steering Committee meetings. You did all of this and more with a smile on your face and with wit and charm. And for this, we thank you for your able leadership of this august body.

 

[He then broke into song, providing his own creative lyrics for the tune, “Blowin’ in the Wind” ( which he said was written by Peter, Paul and Mary). Readers were encouraged to sing along.]

 

How many times did we hear him say unanimous consent is the way?

 

And how many times did he limit reports, report and after boring report?

 

The answer… my Senators… is sitting in this chair, the answer is Eric our dear chair.

 

How many times did he lead us upstairs, he thought Executive Sessions were such fun?

 

And how many meetings did he end right on time, he kept a tight rein on us all?

 

The answer my colleagues is sitting in this chair, the answer is our distinguished Senate chair.

 

[When Roberts pointed out that Bob Dylan wrote the song, not Peter, Paul, and Mary, Camarillo accepted this correction from his elder.]

This is not a motion, but it is full of emotion. We’ve come to the time of year when ancient custom calls upon me, in the name of this distinguished assembly, to thank you for your accomplishments as Chair of Senate 39. Well done!

 

Wise custom also mandates that this gratitude be more than a mere thanks, but rather transformed into a roast. A roast. How can one roast what is so well done? Well, this is no paradox. A well-done roast is truly a wonderful thing. No one could have a beef with that. Surely ribbing is required to garnish your many accomplishments appropriately.

 

But at this rump of the year, and before I further butcher this prime metaphor, let me get to the point. Thank you, dear Engineer. You have clanged us faithfully to this caboose of the year. Thank you Sheppard, who has been our shepherd, for ensuring that the cup of our agenda hath never runneth over timeth. You have guided us through the murkiest matters of the year, even when our inner valedictorians have waxed eloquent, and, as a poet wrote of this Senate very long ago, &lsquo ;the fog comes on little cat feet.’

 

These cats, too, you have herded, or shepherded, nipping their plentiful words, which now duly litter our pungent minutes. Your good spirits have lightened our meetings. And I must turn to another poet, ‘We were tired, we were merry’… just so I’d have something to rhyme with ‘Sheri.’

 

Yet the hour calls for something bolder, something more senatorial, something more ponderous, something that can hammer home your achievements. Hammer? Yes, it is about the hammer, the gavel, which I will present you symbolically in a moment as token. You have wielded the gavel thunderously, like Thor beating the rhythm of the year above the din of our battles. And so, in martial tones, and with due apologies to friends of Will, I give you this:

 

This day is called the feast of Sheppard.

We who outlive this Senate, and come safe home

Will stand on tiptoe when this year is named,

And rouse at the name of Sheri.

We who attend this day, and return to our departments,

Will, biweekly on Wednesdays, whine to our chairs

And say, ‘Tomorrow is Senate Thursday.’

Then will strip a sleeve and show the scars.

And say, ‘These wounds I earned on Senate Thursday.’

What feats she did this year: Soon shall the names of the Committee on Steering,

Familiar in our mouths as household words

Sheri the chair, Harris and Hinton,

Cook and Loeb, Stevenson and Bresnahan,

Be in flowing cups freshly remember’d.

This story shall good Provost teach the Board.

And Senate Thursday shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But that this year at Senate shall be remember’d;

We few, we happy few, we band of teachers

For you today who hail our Chair with me

Shall be my colleague; be you ne’er so techy.

This day shall gentle your condition:

And scholars now in libraries and labs

Shall think themselves deprived they were not this year at Senate,

And hold their sabbaticals cheap whilst any speaks

That joins now with me in applause upon Chair Sheppard’s day!

On behalf of your Senate colleagues, I want to thank you for your fair and judicious leadership of the 40th Faculty Senate. I have especially appreciated your heroic labors to raise the intellectual level of the Senate, your efforts of reaching out to new senators, and your all-too-rare ability to get to the heart of the matter with respect to reports and presentations.

 

In faithful deference to our tradition, I will attempt to pay you your due in verse.

 

To call or not to call, yet another Senate question:

Whether ’tis nobler for the chair to suffer

The slings and arrows of over loquacious colleagues,

Or to take action against the sea of proposals

And, by voting, kill them. To postpone, to table.

No more; And by tabling we end

The boredom and the thousand bureaucratic acts

That Senate committees are heir to: ’Tis a solution

Devoutly to be wish’d. To postpone, to table.

To table, perchance to die. Ay, there’s the rub;

For in the act of postponement, what IDP’s may languish,

When we have yet deferred another Senate review,

Must give us pause. There’s the respect

That makes calamity of so long meetings;

For who would bear the debates and motions about Rumsfeld,

The library’s hours, the cost of graduate housing,

The pangs of over-long reports, the truth’s delay,

The infinity of papers, and the yawns

That patient merit of th’ wordy takes,

When he might his chairing break

With a red burgundy? Who would budgets bear,

To grunt and sweat under a report on Area One,

But that the dread of something more than majors, rules, and sports,

The undiscover’d documents from whose bowels

No senator returns, puzzles the will,

And makes us bear those academic policies we have

Than fly to others we know not of?

Thus, conscience does make filibusters of us all,

And thus the Irish hue of resolution

Is covered over with the pale cast of thought,

And enterprises of research ethics and justice

With this regard, they turn to after-hours meetings,

And lose the name of Senate action.

 

Soft you now!

The fair kind Eamonn! Leader in thy orisons

Be all our tributes remembered.

I know that medical record privacy is covered by certain regulations; however, since we are not in the Medical Center, I have nullified all HIPAA [Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act] regulations to present to this august body important medical information about our fearless leader.

 

Here is Karen Cook’s latest medical center visit.

 

Chief Complaint: This is the first Stanford University Academic Faculty Senate Chairmanship for this incredibly accomplished and delightful Stanford superstar, who comes to the clinic with the chief complaints of ‘which budget crisis are we dealing with now’ and ‘why there are no Faculty Senate members going to graduation in bathing suits’.”

 

History of Present Illness: The patient was in her usual state of academic health, and directing the very successful sociology program with a specialization in, ‘Whom do you trust?’, until last spring when a retired nephrologist implored her to run for the Chair of the Academic Senate. She agreed to do this — although no mental status examination was done at the time’.”

 

Despite a difficult and ugly campaign against a highly disreputable opponent… she was victorious, much to the benefit of Stanford University. She brought her formidable intellect, dynamic drive, and most importantly, her sense of the absurd, to this role. Her major skill, developed in her prior life as a cognizant dean (and I thought deans were never cognizant – silly me) and chair, was being able to herd cats, and end all meetings by 5:00. She was cruising in this role, leading a discussion on whether we should increase the number of undergraduates, in response to a Washington pathogen, named Grassley, and his attempt to infect University endowments. Then, suddenly, without warning, there was a report by the provost, of a ‘slight’ problem with our endowment. It began with a ‘slight’ bleed in September, followed by an autumn hemorrhage, leading to a winter state of shock.

 

What had Karen done to cause this?

 

As a sociologist, she felt she should have been less ‘trusting’, and anticipated the evils of society. To complicate matters, there was a nasty battle on Academic Senate Faculty disappearance from graduation ceremonies, and the appropriate use of bathing suits at graduation. The combination of these events resulted in Karen’s decision to seek medical intervention.

 

After a thorough mental status examination, it was decided that Karen Cook is incredibly healthy, not so wealthy, and very wise…but that Stanford University was suffering from two grave illnesses - poverty and apathy. To cure the University, we as Senators, must help Karen by soliciting all our friends and families to support our poverty-stricken University, and by donning our bathing suits and academic regalia—do you hear that, Philippe [Professor Buc]?— by joining Karen and me at the Stanford graduation.

 

My prognosis is that Stanford will survive and thrive, but that most of us will look terrible in our bathing suits.

 

My recommendation for Dr. Cook is that she keep smiling, never change, and have lunch with me often!

As you know, it’s normally the tradition for the Vice Chair of the Steering Committee to regale, roast and toast the outgoing chair. It was our intention that you, the Berkeley radical activist Chair, be the first chair to be roasted by a Nobel Laureate [Professor Andrew Fire]. Unfortunately, Andy has been called away, so I’m here to announce that there will be no Fire.

 

But there will be water. That’s me. I don’t have anything prepared, because I was just told about this a very short time ago. But let me just say a few things that I could put together in this short time.

 

First of all, on behalf of the Steering Committee and Trish, Rex, John, and everybody, we want to say what a great pleasure it was serving with you this year. It really, truly was. We had a lot of fun, folks. If you heard lots of laughter coming out of Building 310, it was because Andrea made it a really interesting, intriguing and engaging time to be together, not only to discuss important issues, but also to do it in a way that was respectful and also fun. And we thank you, really and truly thank you for that.

 

As a personal note, I’m actually going to miss every second Tuesday quite a bit, so we’re going to have to find other ways to meet, my dear Natasha. But in lieu of that, because it is important, I will read this for everybody& rsquo;s benefit. It’s not often that you get a document that’s signed by both the President and the Provost.

 

“On behalf of the faculty and students of Stanford University, in grateful recognition for your dedicated service as Chair of the Senate of the Academic Council and its Steering Committee, 2009-2010, Andrea Goldsmith.”   And we have this ceremonial gift [an engraved gavel]. Don’t use it on anybody. “Not even my husband?” asked Goldsmith. “No, especially.”

 

Chair Goldsmith (in the spontaneity of the moment): All right! So drinks every other Tuesday! Professor Koseff: There we go!

 

 

 

Palumbo-Liu, wearing a doctor’s white lab coat with a stethoscope in the pocket and the name on the front pocket reading “David Spiegel, MD” announced that the Steering Committee has heard a report of a psychiatric emergency and wanted to consult with him.

 

A sign, “Doctor is in,” appeared and was displayed prominently. A group, including a woman in a nurse’ s uniform, gathered at the floor of the Senate. The nurse looked remarkably like Trish Del Pozzo, Assistant Academic Secretary.

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’: Nurse, can I see my first patient?

 

Nurse Del Pozzo: The patient is here.

 

First Patient (who looked strikingly like Professor Mark Zoback):

Doctor, doctor please help me. I am having recurring nightmares. Year after year, it’s faculty meetings, Senate meetings, meetings about meetings. There is even a committee about committees in my dreams. Can you help me?

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’s’ (whose eyes lit up):

Ah, a true case of repetition compulsion, a common malady amongst university professors in deliberative bodies. But let me ask, are you sure you’re asleep when this happens? In any event, we must break this endless cycle. My advice: it& rsquo;s probably not going to get any better, so take two pills and get used to it. And don’t forget the co-pay on your way out. ‘

[Dr. Spiegel’ handed the patient some white pills that looked as big as marbles.]

Next!

Second patient (who was the spitting image of Professor Brad Osgood):

Hello, doctor, it’s me again (hands shaking and looking very nervous)

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’: “Oy vey.”

 

Patient:

The pill you gave me last time was great, but the problem is still there and it’s not going away. It’s accreditation, doctor. I don’t know what to say. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I wake up at night thinking of measuring student-learning outcomes. Doctor, can you do something for me?

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’:
Well, the problem is that it actually means nothing. The first step in recovery is to recognize that. This time, take two pills and wait two more years.

 

Patient: Two more years?

‘Dr. Spiegel’ (nodding): If it persists, give me a call. And don’t forget the co-pay.

[Some of the large pills were given to the patient.]

 

Third Patient (looking very much like Professor Martha Cyert):

Hi Doctor, I hope you can help me. My name is Shirley Ballistic. I’m a student at Stanford and I feel like I should be getting more out of life. I’ve already taken all the upper and lower division courses in aeronautics, astronautics and astrophysics. But I’m just not feeling fulfilled.

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’:
You’re the Ballistics student I’ve been hearing about. Clearly you ’re suffering from SUES Syndrome. This might take years to resolve. My advice is get used to it, take these pills, and sign up for a course on French cinema. You’ll feel much better. By the way, don’t forget your co-pay on the way out.

[Some of the pills were handed to the patient.]

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’: Are there any more patients?

 

Nurse Del Pozzo (nodding):

Yes, you have one more.

[She went over to a ‘computer’ and pressed a button. A voice that for all intents and purposes could have been that of Professor Hank Greely was heard.]

 

Fourth Patient:

Doctor, you’ve got to help me. I’ve been feeling out of touch, distant, like I’m not around… almost disembodied. I first noticed this when President Hennessy started talking about a New York City campus. But it&rsquo ;s driving me crazy. Help me, please.

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’ (smiling grimly):

Well that’s the distance teaching syndrome! It may become a Stanford epidemic.” He waved the bottle of pills at the recorder and said, We’ll send you some pills. Take two and don’t forget to mail us the copay.& rdquo;

 

‘Dr. Spiegel’ removed his coat. His true identity revealed, Professor Palumbo-Liu turned to the real Dr. Spiegel, Chair of the Senate, and said:

 

In all seriousness, David, thank you for a year of wonderful leadership in the Senate, and good mental health, and we hope that we haven’t disrupted yours too much. If that’s the case, please, take the bottle (handing the real Chair (Dr.) Spiegel the bottle of pills) as well as a handsome engraved gavel.

 

Chair Spiegel, looking at the bottle, said, “I want to say, I’m really touched by this. And I’m touched without it, too. I want to say what a privilege, a pleasure, and an honor it has been to serve you as the Senate, the Academic Council, and the University. Now that you’ve had a year of group therapy, I hope you’re all feeling a whole lot better. And the story about the sleep problem reminds me that Max Lerner, a professor in New York&mdash ;which may be our new home—once said that he had a dream that he was lecturing to his classes and woke up to find out that he was.”  

 

Those of you who are avid readers of the Stanford Report will recall a particularly informative and inspiring article in the December 11, 2011 issue entitled, “Rosemary Knight, Geophysicist, Senate Chair, Hitchhiking Advocate.” As one who made my own way west via the Greyhound bus and the kindness of strangers, I am particularly honored to present Rosemary with a small token of our appreciation for her tireless efforts on behalf of all hitchhikers. It is a gift that I am sure she will find useful wherever the road may take her. Opening a large FedEx package he removed a magnificent giant thumb made of foam and presented it to Chair Knight.

 

The members of the Steering Committee and Trish Del Pozzo gathered in front of the Senate.

 

SAM (Professor Russell Berman):

[wearing a tall stovepipe cloth cap with red and white rings, a striking resemblance to the hat worn by Dr. Seuss’ s Cat in the Hat]

I am Sam

Sam IHUM.

To my classes

Frosh must come.

 

STUDENT [Professor Ray Levitt]:

That Sam IHUM.

That Sam IHUM

I do not like

His curriculum.

 

SAM:

Do you like

Green eggs and IHUM?

Would you like them

Freshman year?

 

STUDENT:

I would NOT like them

Freshman year,

I would not like them

With a beer.

I do not like

Green eggs and IHUM.

I do not like them,

Sam IHUM.

 

PROVOST [Himself]:

That’s my cue!

Where’s Jim? Where’s Sue?

I have something fun

For you to do!

Please prepare a report.

I know just the sort!

A provost’s dream

We’ll call it SUES for short!”

 

SUE [Professor Elizabeth Hadly]:

Okay, Okay.

Whatever you say.

Sue’s Report.

I like the name.

Sign me up.

I guess I’m game.

 

JIM [Professor Blas Cabrera]:

SUES Report?

But of what sort?

What about the name?

If it’s all about the same

Why not Jim’s and Sue’s?”

Or Sue’s and Jim’s?

Oh, that Provost

And his whims.

 

SAM:

A SUES Report?

I have just the thing!

It has a nice ring!

‘Oh the places you’ll go!’

It will make you sing!

 

SUE:

But which songs will they sing?

And what will they see?

Can they still count one thing

As if it were three?

 

JIM:

With IHUM now in tatters,

Let’s show them Thinking Matters.

They need depth,

They need breadth,

They need things of all hue.

Things that are red,

And things that are blue.

 

JUDY: [Professor Tom Wasow]:

But how many to do?

More than a few?

That age-old riddle, things one or things two?”

Which plan to anoint

Is my question to you.

It’s the C-USP of the point.

It is peer review.

 

Trish [Herself]:

Outside in the distance

The students did growl.

Two plans were approaching

And the microphones did howl…”

 

[Every member of the cast starts talking]

 

Rex [The Academic Secretary]:

Don’t talk all at once!”

Please, one at a time!

It will all end well.

It will all end quite fine.

Thanks to sage Rosemary

and her parsing of time.

 

Looking at Vice Chair Berman, Knight asked, “But he’s keeping the hat, right?” Professor Berman nodded, “I won’t give it back!”

 

 

Professor Palumbo-Liu:

We’ve always wondered how it is that Ray has been so successful leading the Senate. Thanks to Susan Holmes, we found a PowerPoint on the website by Ray, which I think reveals an awful lot: “Using IP* Capacity to Run the Faculty Senate”—IP means intelligence and persistence, and, obviously, you have to start with Big Ideas (shown in the second slide):

 

1. Validated analysis tools are central to design; they distinguish real design from trial-and-error experimentation!

 

2. Physical-science-based analysis tools help engineers design bridges, airplanes, semiconductors, pharmaceuticals, etc., social-science-based analysis tools can help managers design their universities systematically.

 

3. The provost suggests we aim for healthier practices in the design of our universities: sports and exercise being our most useful tool.

 

4. These Tools are available to prevent health risks, bottlenecks, delays and quality decrease.

 

Professor Stedman:

“Simulating Managerial Interventions: What-If Analysis of Steering Committee” (the next slide). We would be deceiving you to say that this analysis went smoothly. Ray has very high standards, and, unhappy after our first meeting of the Steering Committee, he started the second committee meeting by showing his “what if” analysis of the committee. This analysis shows very clearly that if you increase the committee size by 3-5 engineers, the duration is better, but if you simply got rid of all the non-engineering members and replaced them with experienced engineers, you& rsquo;d have an even better outcome. Ray then proposed that analysis to the Provost, who said, “You can’t do that, Ray!’” Showing another example of Levitt’s use of analysis tools that enable project design, he admitted that none of them could understand it.

Susan Holmes (showing another slide):

I want to explain to you this analysis tool in the context of one of the discussions that we had during the Steering Committee meeting about class scheduling. What you have here is a definite non-linear curve. The student support is here and everyone else being in favor of it is over here. But it’s not increasing like a regression line; instead what you have is a logistic curve. And we had this complementarity, which seems to be a universal law—that the importance of the issue is negatively correlated with student support.

 

In subsequent slides illustrating his explanation of why fast track projects fail due to information overload, Ray was depicted riding a surfboard on an ocean wave of information flow and riding a skateboard on a nonlinear curve of costs. The final slide showed him as a quarterback on Stanford’s football team, the ultimate successful organization.

 

 

 

‘Twas just right before Senate, when all through the foyer

Not a member was chatting, not even a lawyer;

Agendas were pulled out of backpacks with care,

In hopes that chair David soon would be there;

Reporters were nestled all snug in their keds;

While visions of bylines danced in their heads;

And Trish with her wisdom, and Rex with his pen,

Had taken their places, if not, so what then,

When out on the crowd there arose not a sigh,

Indeed showing members: chair David was nigh.

All to their seats, they flew like a flash,

Plunked down their agendas and read every last dash.

The microphone lights with luminous glow,

Gave a luster of gravity to people we know,

When what to our wondering eyes did appear,

But our steering committee all decked out in cotton,

With a venerable chair… you say “Who?”,

From his careful demeanor “David Palumbo-Liu.”

More rapid than eagles his colleagues they came,

And carefully and clearly he calls them by name:

“Now, Yakov! now, Paula! now Hank and Etch!

On, Davids! on, Al! on, Andy, Don’t Kvetch!

And calling to order the full senate crew,

David brought up big issues, he knew what to do!

Of online leaning they heard more than a peep,

Of lectures worldwide and exams that go “beep”;

Of concerns that the faculty might be replaced,

By computers with origins not to be traced!

Of millions of students awake at all hours,

Of wonderful housing in plazas and towers

With the year drawing on, they began to hear more

Of BigFix, and Two-step, and Backup/Restore

Of joint major programs, combining logistics

Of CS, and music, hockey? linguistics;

Concerning the budget, we need not demur.

With careful attention, and nylon, not fur!

Providing students a platform, a key part of our roles,

Giving voice to ideas and defining our goals;

Making safety in labs and on roads and on bikes,

Woven in culture and not part of “yikes”;

Of faculty diversity, in word and in deed,

Of making this part of community creed.

Through this all, there was David with constant support,

For dialog, discussion, on every report;

For thought and reflection on every decision

For collegial atmosphere, with no sense of derision;

David, we thank you for your year-long effort,

With nary a week that did not need a shepherd.

And we wish you the best for your Senate vacation,

Starting just now, despite our trepidation,

Enjoy years off, not just one but two.

After that, maybe back, right here in this Zoo.

Throughout the year, the Senate has dealt with substantive and sometimes vexing issues and it has never lacked in interesting debate and discussion. This is due in no small measure to your thoughtfulness, experience, and expertise. But … [breaking into song and invoking Cole Porter]

The Prez is here, the Provost too,

But the man in charge, well it’s you know who.

He’s delightful, he’s de-lovely, he’s de-Berman!

 

A scholar deep, a writer clear,

But to read his work, I’m afraid my dear

Better study, better bone-up, on your German!

 

Oh, if you think growing old

Is a tale that’s just gotta to be told,

And you think that takin’ a toke

Is hardly a joke,

Russell’s your bloke!

 

So thanks a lot, and all the best,

Bring the gavel down and then take a rest.

He’s de Chairman, he’s de Bossman

He’s delightful, he’s delirious,

He’s de-limit, he’s de-lovely

He’s de-Berman!

 

 

 

[Professor Cambell impersonating Mr. Higgins of My Fair Lady fame, was ably accompanied by Steven Chanan (Stanford ’91) on the synthesizer.]

 

Damn, damn, damn ... I've grown accustomed to her face.

 

I've grown accustomed to her face.

Her emails make my day begin.

I've grown accustomed to the tune

That she imposes on the room.

I clown, she frowns,

The temperature goes down.

 

It's just the way that she was trained,

In some dark dungeon of a lab.

And you can see she studies physics

And not something more humane.

Fussing about 'data',

It can drive a man insane.

And yet there's something of a trace

Of wisdom in the air.

Accustomed to her face.

 

I've grown accustomed to this place.

Where these wise Solons have their say.

Should we endorse civility,

 

Change GERs to 'Ways',

Put a cap on engineers

Before we're Cal Tech by the Bay?

 

Should we ban smoking on the Quad?

Or change the name of Serra Mall?

And Stanford in Manhattan, alas

It wasn't in the cards.

I guess I'll never teach there now,

Give Broadway my regards.

And yet there's something of a trace

Of prudence in the air –

Accustomed to this place.

 

A fond adieu, John Hennessy,

On your achievements all agree.

And Provost Etchemendy

There's one thing that you should know

Your budget PowerPoints are dazzling

Please do one more before you go.

Because there's wisdom in this place,

and hope and prudence too –

Accustomed to her face.

Professor Parsonnet: Due to a conflict of interest, I have been asked to step in for Debra at this, mercifully, the last meeting of the Spring Quarter of the 49th Senate. At our meeting today we are first going to have a review of the Chair of the Faculty Senate, Debra Satz. This will be followed by a discussion on the status of squirrels on campus, a proposal for starting a new combined major in Computer Science and Mortuary Affairs, and plans by President Tessier-Lavigne to replace the Main Quad with an ice hockey rink, a Tim Horton’s and a poutin stand.

First though, we are approving the minutes of our meeting on January 26th, 1998, Senate Document Number 2,000,416. The minutes were sent to you by dogsled and Snapchat. Are there any amendments or corrections? Seriously, did any of you read the minutes this year? No? Ok, so I am going to approve them, without a vote, just as is my tradition when I am sitting in for Debra.

Because we have no voting items on the agenda today, we do not have to pretend to know Robert’s Rules of Order. I wish to remind you, though, that once more our meeting format is a bit different; presenters will give short presentations followed by substantial, and usually pointless, discussion. This is made possible by Senators having pretended to have read the material that we sent to them ahead of time. Today, to make sure that you have read the materials, we will have a brief quiz. Anyone who fails the quiz will be relegated to asking a question of the President or the Provost for the next 40 Senate sessions. Adrienne will be passing the quiz around shortly.

Moving on, Dean Saller will now present on “Debra Satz, the Chair of the Faculty Senate;” he will have 3.141519 minutes followed by 2.71828 minutes for discussion.

Dean Richard Saller: Thank you Julie, and good afternoon. I have a short slide presentation to make as we review the Chair of the Faculty Senate, Debra Satz. [slides omitted] As many of you know, Debra has worked at my side for the past seven years as Senior Associate Dean for the Humanities and Arts, and she is also the Martha Sutton Weeks Professor of Ethics and Society in the Department of Philosophy.

When I think about what Debra has done this past year as Chair of the Faculty Senate, I connect all of those things to her background as a philosopher. Philosophers believe in giving reasons for things, and in dialogue, debate, and discussion. You know what I am talking about here: reading in advance, short presentations, more questions from the floor.

This won’t surprise many of you, but what might surprise you is what Debra is proposing for next year’s Faculty Senate. She shared with me a draft of her proposal, which I have the privilege of sharing with you today. The idea is drawn from her award-winning book of 2011, Why Some Things Should Not Be For Sale: The Moral Limit of Markets. After deep philosophical reflection, Debra has concluded that the seats on the Faculty Senate are exactly the sort of thing that should be for sale.

So beginning this summer, seats on the Faculty Senate will be auctioned off to interested faculty. She believes that this will improve efficiency and boost attendance at Senate meetings; moreover, all proceeds will go to support better drinks and snacks at Senate meetings.

Side note: We have an inside prediction game on what bid will be needed by faculty to purchase a Senate seat. Members of the 49th Faculty Senate, please prepare to open your wallets if you wish to remain in your seats. How much do you think will be necessary? Last time I checked eBay, the bids exceeded $8.

Debra has worked tirelessly to improve the university – from her efforts in the Philosophy Department, in the Center for Ethics in Society, in the Dean’s Office – and now in the Faculty Senate. These efforts have been appreciated and recognized by many of us. But not by everyone, and evidently not by her lovely son, Isaac, because Isaac has chosen to decline Stanford’s offer of admission in order to go to Swarthmore next year. Evidently, reason-giving and deliberation has its limits in the Satz household!

Parsonnet: Thank you very much, Dean Saller, for that very erudite presentation, but it was way too much talking. We are now open for discussion. For efficiency, I am going to bundle questions together. If you want to ask a question in a new domain, please raise one finger; if you want to follow up on a previous point, raise two fingers; if you want to order pizza, please raise three fingers; and if you simply want to leave, wave both hands in the air while singing the last verse of Hail Stanford Hail!

Professor Hank Greely: Thank you – but first I do have to congratulate Dean Saller – Sailor? – Sallert? – Salieri? — whatever, for that really incisively turgid presentation. You know, I don ’t care who hears me say this, but I think you have been the greatest H&S dean this decade! But to paraphrase Habermas: What I really want to obliviate about is this book, by this philosophist, or philologer, or whatever, this Some Things Should Not Be For Sale, which I think has immediate, pressing implications for the Stanford Faculty Senate, and indeed for the future of all sentient, or possibly sentient, life in the observable universe, which does make it kind of surprising that it is currently ranked number 369,252 on Amazon, but of course that’s the paperback edition. Which seems kind of an immoral waste of trees, frankly, so maybe that is something that shouldn’t be for sale, except as an e-book, but that was this morning, so it’s probably gone up a little, or not, but anyway, my point is — and I do want to stress that this is not a planted question, and in fact may not be a question at all: Would it be wrong for me to sell the remainder of my 2.71828 minutes of speaking time, if I could get a really good price?

Professor Ross Shachter: As the Senior Senator from Management Science, I commend Dean Saller on his remarks and Professor Greely on his remarks, and what the heck, me on mine! Because I think this is a most important question, and while everything that could be said about it has already been said, everybody has not yet had a chance to say it. Therefore, this would be a most opportune moment for us to break into our Senate Discussion Groups.

Professor Judith Goldstein: Thank you. Thank you, Dean Saller, as ever for your, as ever, insightful remarks, and they were so good. And thank you, Hank Greely, for your gracious comments on Debra’s book, they were so good. And Ross (Shachter), what was that question?

I think we need to pause and ask ourselves a fundamental question, since we are here, thinking about Debra, and that question is so fundamental: If we are going to think about creating a market, we need to ask ourselves what the correct price is for a Humanities program? Or for Humanities at all? Or for a Humanities instructor, or maybe even for a department? And do we really need those people? And by the way, what is going on in those offices? Aren’t they the bad people, is that the deep state? I guess we really need to ask ourselves about purpose – unnecessary – bad, just so bad.

Parsonnet: That is a very interesting question, but I am sorry we ran out of time, and we will need to table it until our next opening in the Faculty Senate agenda, which I think is in 2104.

Next on today’s agenda, I want to thank Debra Satz, on behalf of the Senate, for her leadership as Chair over the last year. She was, as you all know, a really brilliant leader of this body, creating a comprehensive and wonderful agenda, always intent on getting us to participate and to form consensus, while leading us efficiently, and with a great sense of humor. It has been a productive and engaging year. For those of you who don’t know, being Chair of the Senate and the Steering Committee is a lot of work, and Debra, of course with Hans and Adrienne at her side, seemed to make it effortless. Thank you so much, Debra, and I would like to present you with a certificate and a gift of a gavel that you can use to whip your dog and kids into shape.