Field of Screams

On May 15th, the trustees of Cornell University declared their unanimous support for Michael Kotlikoff, the school’s President, whose car had bumped into a student activist during a May 1st campus protest (Chronicle of Higher Education Daily Briefing, May 18th online). 

Historians of higher education were quick to point out that the narrative doesn’t always end this well for high-level university administrators involved in vehicular incidents.  Perhaps the most famous episode occurred on November 26, 1936, when Oklahoma State University’s football team lost 35-13 to its archrival, the University of Oklahoma. 

In the final seconds of the game, OSU’s enraged President, Casper Buttonfield, commandeered a giant combine harvester and drove it the full length of the field, mowing down both teams, their coaches, game officials, cheerleaders, and Pistol Pete, OSU’s cowboy mascot.  The grim toll: 28 dead, 43 seriously injured.  

OSU’s trustees took action quickly, suspending Butterfield without pay for a full semester and requiring him to fund the resodding of the field with his personal resources.    

The unrepentant President told reporters, “I’m at peace with what I did, and I’d do it all over again.  When your team plays that poorly, there must be consequences.  This is Oklahoma, folks, not Long Island.”

“Can Someone Tell Me Where the Thermometer Goes?”

If you’re wondering how much ransom was paid to the hackers who recently breached the Canvas learning-management system (Chronicle of Higher Education, May 12th online), the answer is: NOT. ONE. DIME.

As it turns out, what the hackers wanted — and got — was not money, but access.  Specifically, they demanded that 25 white male college seniors with GPAs less than 1.5 be admitted to the medical school of their choice. 

The agreement that was reached stipulated that neither the names of the students nor the identities of the medical schools would be disclosed. 

According to Steve Daly, the CEO of Canvas’s parent company, “this was the best outcome for all concerned.  Let’s face it: white guys in the United States are having a tough time these days, and we need to find a way to make them productive members of society.  Initially, we were concerned that this deal might violate the federal government’s prohibition of DEI activities, but Linda McMahon at the Department of Education told us, ‘not a problem, it’s all good’, because no racial minorities or women would be benefitting.  Hell, we’re going to make medical schools GREAT again!”  

 

 

May You Teach in Peace

The headline of the essay by Yale Professor Samuel Moyn reads: “Professors are Too Old: The Academy’s Gerontocracy Problem is Worse Than Anyone Admits” (Chronicle of Higher Education, April 23rd online).  

Professor Moyn may have a point.  Consider Carleton College in Northfield, Minnesota, where the faculty recently took a vote of no confidence in its President, Alison Byerly.  The motion passed by an overwhelming margin.  A week prior to the vote, President Byerly had announced a new policy that requires all deceased faculty members at Carleton to retire.   

Nelson Filshoot, Professor of Anthropology and Chair of Carleton’s Faculty Senate, declared the policy to be “outrageous and discriminatory. This is yet another example of oppression perpetuated by the ‘League of the Living’, who deny rights to those who no longer breathe.

“In 2026, there’s absolutely no reason that a dead faculty member can’t continue to thrive in the classroom.  We have AI, which can provide lectures and assignments, and teaching assistants, who can grade students’ work.  Where’s the problem?

“Please let our deceased colleagues keep serving the institution.  It’s the right thing to do, and President Byerly knows it.  There’s a lot more to being a professor than prancing around campus, looking all ‘alive’.”

Carleton’s Board of Trustees will decide the President’s fate at a closed meeting on May 28th.