What Universities Will Be like in the Year 2000Author(s): Stephen Joel TrachtenbergSource: The Phi Delta Kappan, Vol. 64, No. 5 (Jan., 1983), pp. 327-330Published by: Phi Delta Kappa InternationalStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20386698 .

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NNHKT

UNNERSITIES

NNILL BE LIKE

IN1HE

YEN?

2000

by Stephen Joel Trachtenberg

Universities are magnetic, says Mr. Trachtenberg, and their magnetism will enable them to adapt and survive. But universities in the year 2000 may not resemble their present-day counterparts; stratifica tions and sharp differentiations of status may in stead be the rule.

Isaac Asimov, during a recent visit to

my campus, observed that he has been a very poor prophet, wrong much

more often than right. This encourages

me to note my own shortcomings. I have

no clear vision of what universities will be

like in the year 2000 ?

only a collection

of hunches that may add up to something. Let me begin with a safe observation.

Universities have been with us in varying forms for nearly a thousand years. If we

look at the versions of the university rep resented in Bologna around the year 1100, in Paris at the time of Abelard, at Oxford and Cambridge in the 14th century, and at

Salamanca, Harvard, and Stanford at

various other times, we might well con

clude that variety rather than similarity is the rule.

Still, there is a common thread that connects these diverse manifestations, albeit a thread so basic and primitive that it almost seems unworthy of so magnifi cent an institution. What all universities

have had in common is, to adapt one of

Lewis Mumford's favorite terms, their

magnetic quality. They have come into be

ing, in most cases, because people ?

learned people ? wanted to get together

and chose those particular places for do

ing so.

Another way of making the same point is to say that learned people, long before

newspapers and cable television, were in

the information business. Those who have

taken the trouble to gather and store in

formation tend to be afflicted with a need to impart it to others. This presupposes the existence of a group consisting of both

information disseminators and informa

tion consumers, or of people who alter

nate between those roles. And this sheer

need for the company of one's own kind is

what has made the university a growth business since the year 1100 or so.

The question now, of course, is

whether this long stretch of development has come to an end. After all, the day is

long past when a master would lug his

"book" to a lectern and dictate to stu

dents, who busily transcribed their own

handwritten "textbooks." Information

overload has replaced information scarci

ty as the prevailing affliction. With the

public library, the newspaper, the tele

phone, the billboard, cable TV, and all

news-all-the-time radio stations, who

needs universities?

That is a loaded question, of course ?

perhaps even an ironic one. The printing

press, newspapers, and other manifesta

tions of the information explosion have

been with us for several centuries, and

universities have not been driven out of

business. Instead, they have adapted. In

the 20th century even Oxford and Cam

bridge agreed that a few works worth

reading and discussing had appeared since

Horace and Virgil. Sociology, psycholo

gy, and anthropology ? once considered

dubious and radical fields of inquiry ?

have made their way slowly and painfully into the magic circle previously restricted

to philology and natural science. Popu lar culture, business, advertising, and

women's studies have all been granted

STEPHEN JOEL TRACHTENBERG, president of the University of Hartford since

1977, is a graduate of Columbia, Yale, and Harvard. He has been an attorney with the

U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, an aide to a

U.S. congressman from Indiana, and special assistant to the U.S. commissioner of educa

tion during the Johnson Administration. He came to Hartford from Boston University, where he was vice president, dean, and pro

fessor.

~ ?

JANUARY 1983 327

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?

scholarly status, and ? rather to every

body's astonishment ? the sky did not

fall and the walls of academe did not crumble.

Since the university has proved itself so

adaptable in the past, why is everyone so

concerned about its well-being right now?

A few further adaptations may be neces

sary, of course. Perhaps we will see a

department entirely devoted to video

games, with a George Penny feather IV

Chair of Pac-Man and a Commonwealth

Professor of Donkey Kong. The School of International Affairs may have to create a

remedial reading and writing program for

diplomats charged with drawing up treaties and declarations of war. And ex

tra life-experience credit may have to be

granted to older students who have been

"obsolesced" at least five times by the

relentless march of technological innova

tion.

I jest ? but only in part. In fact, a cen

tury or two ago, much of what now seems

so respectable within the university cur

riculum was regarded as the equivalent of

so much Pac-Man and Donkey Kong. If

universities survive the next two decades,

and if they continue to adapt as they ap

proach the year 2000, then we must be

prepared to see them take directions that

now look very unlikely or even bizarre.

I am going to assume in this article that

universities will survive. I base this judg ment not only on self-interest but on the

fact that so many people choose to gravi tate to them. Universities do not consist

solely of people who can't find anything else to do, who are locked in by tenure, or

who earned their doctorates in English literature. They include large numbers of

people who are interested in such fields as

computer science and genetic engineering. Universities are suspiciously attractive to

businesspeople who feel burned out after

a decade or two of looking at bottom

lines. And finally, they are compulsively

fascinating to students, whose resentment

over rising tuition stems, after all, from

the fact that they want to attend.

The university is a magnet. The magnet is so attractive because it consists of peo

ple who are intellectually alive. And as

sources of information, these people are

superior to libraries, magazines, and the

six o'clock news. The university is a col

lection of actively moving frontiers, and

the university makes it possible for you to

move from frontier to frontier by walking 10 feet this way and 12 feet that.

Imagine a world in which universities

didn't exist, a world consisting solely of

corporations, government offices, adver

tising agencies, and public libraries.

Sooner or later, in this imaginary world,

those who yearned for wider and freer

discourse would form the nucleus of

what, over decades or centuries, would

evolve into a university.

Still,

there is no reason to assume that universities in the year 2000

will be identical with, or even closely

resemble, those that are prevalent today. It may already be misleading to refer to

4'a" university located on "a" university

campus. For a good part of the 20th cen

tury, universities have been experimenting with what the British first called "extra mural" efforts and what has more recent

ly been termed a "university without

walls." Cautiously at first, and now with

growing momentum, schools of higher

here is no reason to assume that universities in the year 2000 will be

identical with, or even

closely resemble, those that are prevalent today.

education have been diffusing themselves

outward into the world that once "sur

rounded" them. Today, this trend is oc

curring at so many levels that it is difficult to list them. Community colleges routine

ly create "outreach" programs in local

high schools and libraries. Liberal arts

colleges reach out, via cable TV, to the

disabled, to senior citizens, and to all of

those who cannot reach "the campus" at

ordinary hours on ordinary days. Univer

sities tailor continuing education pro

grams to the needs of individual corpora

tions and even guarantee "on-site de

livery." If only to survive economically

? but

for sound pedagogical reasons, too ?

universities are reshaping their previous

identity. Even today, of course, this proc ess has only begun. Usually, there is still

an insistence on careful, centralized con

trol of such dangerously innovative ef

forts ? a type of control that often

negates the effectiveness of the effort.

As we move closer to the year 2000,

however, and as the search for adequate

financing makes universities ever more

willing to think unprecedented thoughts, we may witness, in the world of higher ed

ucation, something very like the met

amorphosis of Marxist theory in Yugo slavia or in China today. Universities will

be increasingly tempted to break them

selves down into individual "profit cen

ters" that are only nominally or loosely controlled by an administrative "core."

Even in 1983, such a proposal elicits

predictable doubts: "But what about aca

demic quality? Surely you know that no course offering at the University of

Fredonia can be approved before it has

passed through seven committees, six ad

ministrators, five reconsiderations, four

redraftings, three workshops, two rubber

stamps, and a formal blessing!" Or: "But

we would risk our precious accredi

tation!"

Such concerns assume that present re

alities ?

including present accreditation

procedures ? have existed from time im

memorial and will exist till the end of

days. In fact, we can assume that accred

itation procedures will themselves show "Congratulations, young man, on successfully completing your required course of

study. Now all you have to do to receive your diploma is say 'please. * "

328 PHI DELTA KAPP AN

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<

surprising elasticity as universities struggle to survive reductions in federal funding. In particular, we can expect a much

sharper distinction between those pro

grams in the academic "core" that require the full array of traditional accom

plishments and those in the university's "extended" or "extra-mural" portion that can dispense with some of these stan

dards while introducing others that are

considerably more relevant to their suc

cess.

The diffusion of the university into the

community ?

extended even further by cable TV and by cooperative arrange

ments ? also presages a reshuffling of

status and hierarchical structures within

the academic community. Even today,

"continuing education" efforts, however

profitable they may be, are regarded, when status is doled out, as excrescences

that have somehow imposed themselves

on the university's "real" or "legitimate" center. Such attitudes are slowly fading, however. Just as admissions and develop

ment officers found their status on the rise

in the Seventies, so a new breed of aca

demic "marketer" is beginning to gain a

newfound respect. The academic marketer is not necessar

ily a huckster and a con artist. He or she

may have sound credentials, up to and in

cluding the Ph.D. Ten years ago he or she

might have been condemned to an exis

tence somewhere on the fringe of aca

demic life ? condemned to move from

school to school by the vagaries of the

limited job market for marketers. Today, he or she may enjoy a stronger de facto

tenure than those who have that status on

a de jure basis.

Thus far, my dominant metaphor has

been that of a university re-creating its

previous identity and moving out into the

surrounding community. The converse

movement, as I see it, will be taking place

simultaneously. The "campus" that is

proving so expensive a luxury in an age of

inflationary labor costs is often a lovely

piece of real estate studded with theaters,

galleries, swimming pools, and other

amenities. They are even more attractive

at a time when government at every level is

cutting back funding for amenities of all kinds. Public libraries are barely holding their own. Repertory theater groups are

watching their funds diminish year by year. Little galleries, print shops, and

movie theaters can no longer cope with to

day's economic constraints. People are

searching for economical, enjoyable lei

sure activities.

Given these profound changes in our

national life, universities will surely begin to discover that they have the facilities ?

including parking ? that will enable them

to draw large crowds for evening and

weekend activities. In addition, they have m a a A m

dormitory space that is equal, in the off

season, to the resources of several major hotels ? and that can be rented at very

reasonable rates to a budget-conscious

public.

Paradoxically, this period of fiscal

stringency offers universities a chance to

truly "come alive" ? in ways that may also prove stimulating for students, fac

ulty, and staff members. Once again, we

can anticipate strangled gasps and howls

of protest: "This place is turning into

Times Square!" And indeed, any sys tematic program for breaching the uni

versity's walls from within or without will

pose real problems and cause soaring costs

for campus security. Universities in cen

ter-city locations may not be able to use

their campuses as effectively as those in

suburban settings. Those in rural areas

may simply not be able to attract enough customers to make the effort worthwhile.

Nevertheless, a great many schools will

benefit, and more intense use of their

campuses will also provide the funds ?

now sorely lacking ? for maintenance

and upkeep. Thus far I have studiously avoided any

discussion of one of the most controver

sial questions now afflicting higher educa

tion: To what extent will the functions traditionally assigned to universities be

taken over by educational mini-systems

sponsored by large corporations? Here

the example of AT&T is a good one. "Ma

Bell," which once included some liberal arts courses for executives in the range of

its offerings to employees, has ejected these from its curriculum and now runs a

nationwide training program that avoids

any collaboration or contact with univer

sities or colleges. AT&T appears to have

concluded that it should confine its educa

tional efforts to what it can control direct

ly. And in Connecticut, the Aetna Insur

ance Company has created its own Aetna

Institute, a mini-university that proposes t? train more than 20,000 employees each

year, from the executive level to the

clerical staff.

Personally, I see these developments ?

and there are, of course, many more of

them ? as signs of the incompetence of

traditionally organized universities in

meeting corporate needs. Corporations are used to dealing with suppliers who, of

fered a sufficiently lucrative contract,

guarantee delivery sooner rather than later

and at competitive prices. Compared to

these agile entrepreneurs, the average

university is a lumbering mastodon that

can barely be convinced to change direc

tion without a lead-time of three years. The climate, however, is growing un

favorable for overweight pachyderms.

Agility and adaptability are keys to sur

vival today, and they will grow in impor tance in the years ahead.

#

he university will retain a distance from

everyday involvements - a distance that permits

contemplation of one's own

morality and meaning.

So we can begin to see, in outline, a

university that will differ as much from

the universities of the 1950s as those insti

tutions differed from the first universities to emerge in the Middle Ages. The walls

of the universities of tomorrow will be in

creasingly porous. Administrators who

are not too unlike business executives will

speak a common language with business

executives who are deeply concerned

about education. The university will re

tain, from all of its earlier incarnations,

the habit of reflection and self-reflection.

Indeed, what it has to offer to its outside

constituencies, beyond the high level of technical training, is precisely this distance from everyday involvements

? a distance

that permits contemplation of one's own

morality, shape, and meaning. Thus far I have been relentlessly opti

mistic, because I think we have heard, in

recent years, all too much foolishness

about the current "crisis" in higher ed

ucation and how this crisis is terminal.

Nonsense! As has so often been observed,

the word crisis, in Greek, can also mean

opportunity. If universities are indeed

necessary to our society, then the present

"crisis" is one of adaptation rather than

survival ?

and the adaptations, as usual, are under way right now.

But optimism can be carried too far,

and I believe that it has to end when we come to the subject of the stu

dent body that universities will serve in the year 2000. I see no reason at all for opti

mism on this score, and a bit of history will show why.

In 1939, on the eve of World War II, about 6% of the U.S. population went to

colleges or universities of any kind. We

are all familiar with what happened after

the war. From the time of the G.I. Bill in

to the 1970s, the percentage of the U.S.

population attending college for some

length of time rose steadily, until it ex

ceeded 60%. The community college movement in particular made the colle

giate experience available to most Amer

icans. "Outreach" was the order of the

day.

JANUARY 1983 329

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foresee, in the year 2000, that stratification

and sharp differentiations of status will be the rule

for colleges and universities. This will

strongly affect other sectors of U.S. society.

Now we stand poised at the moment in

history when this enormous movement is

reversing itself. Access to higher educa tion is becoming more dubious. Even the

community colleges feel less optimistic about being able to admit all comers.

Independent colleges devote more of their available energy to the problem of how to

make themselves affordable, even to com

paratively affluent families. In retrospect, we can appreciate the

dynamism and buoyancy of the higher education "mood" in the period from 1950 to 1970. Those two decades rep resented a history of nonstop

? and

therefore, we fancied, unstoppable ?

triumph. That mood translated into the conviction that higher education was the

key to social and vocational mobility, to the economic health and competitiveness of the U.S., and to the development of

ever-higher levels of civilization and re finement. That mood communicated itself to the consumers as well as to the pro

viders. It seemed "natural" for Amer

icans ? even those belonging to minority

groups and living in the inner cities ? to

go to college.

Today, this rosy and energetic outlook

is evaporating. It was dependent, after all,

on all the stories and photographs that were conspicuously absent from the

newspapers. Who in 1970 could have im

agined that he or she would live to see issues of the New York Times featuring soup kitchens, rising infant mortality, ex hausted unemployment benefits, the Mid west in pervasive economic decline, and

the news that America's highways and

bridges are on the verge of collapse? An era has ended; a new one has be

gun. Its language is limitation, lowered ex

pectations, and relief at the fact that one still has one's own head above water. Nor

does the end of this new and gloomier era

appear to be in sight, given the magnitude of the international challenge that now confronts this nation. Although uni

versities will play an important role in the

rebuilding of the U.S. economy, the

???

energies required to play this role ? and

to assure their own survival ? will leave

little energy for insuring equal access to

higher education for all. And so my vision of higher education

in the year 2000 has a bleak side to it, which can be summed up as follows:

The "flagship" schools, from Har vard and Swarthmore to Chicago and

Stanford, will be preserves for those who are both smart and rich.

The independent schools of lesser rank will serve as preserves for less-gifted rich students.

Taxpayer-supported colleges and

universities will suffer from decaying facilities, excessively large classes, and

outmoded equipment. They will attract

only those students who absolutely cannot afford to attend independent institutions.

Yet even taxpayer-supported schools ?

including community colleges ?

will have to be selective to an extent

that is inconceivable today, and many of those who currently assume that they will be going to college will have to make do with a high school education.

My vision is not, however, uniformly

bleak. For example, I think it is predic table that, as access to higher education

becomes more restricted, we will finally see major improvements in the quality of our public elementary and high schools.

And as taxpayer-supported schools raise

their tuitions, in order to compensate for reduced funding from government and in order to preserve at least some of their

amenities, they will be less likely to drive the independent schools of lesser rank out of business. Still, the gap between the two

camps will remain and in some ways inten

sify, because 1) taxpayer-supported schools will always have to admit more students than independents and 2) most

independent schools will be less and less able to award scholarship aid in sufficient amounts to enable children of the poor to

gain admission.

In short, I foresee, in the year 2000, that stratification and sharp differentia tions of status will be the rule for colleges and universities. This will undoubtedly have a strong impact on other sectors of

society. In 20 years, after all, we will be

dealing with the consequences of the con ditions now being inflicted on the young children of America's poor and unem

ployed, including worsened prenatal care,

restricted opportunities for good-quality day care, worsening nutrition (especially because of cutbacks in school lunch pro

grams), and the pervasive effects of

heightened familial anxiety. Add to this a

higher education system that no longer en

courages people to attend ? whose sym

bol is increasingly the closed or closing, rather than the open, door

? and we will

be shocked to discover, in the year 2000,

???

*

that radical democratization has reversed

itself.

What I find particularly upsetting is that there is no innate reason why univer

sities in the year 2000 cannot be rather

lively places, deeply interwoven with the

surrounding communities, at the same

time that they are highly stratified and ex clusive. After all, our rapidly developing technology has a double edge. It could be used to distribute wealth more widely to a

relatively leisured population, or it could be used solely to fulfill the needs of an up per class ?

leaving the underciass per

manently unemployed. There is no intrinsic reason why newly

stratified schools cannot serve the needs of an equally stratified economy. Even to

day we can see how the children of the up per middle class are steered into elemen

tary and high school systems that steadily widen their advantage over those youths who remain in school systems in decaying inner cities and industrial areas. To the extent that marketplace considerations alone determine the shape taken by insti tutions of higher education

? to the ex

tent, above all, that scholarship aid and

loans are no longer made available at the

federal or state level ? to that extent w?

will educationally disenfranchise a large and probably growing portion of the U.S.

population.

Having

begun this article by imply ing that prophecy is very difficult,

I find that I have gone a long way toward

taking the risk of prophesying. Needless to say, what I have allowed myself to en vision is dependent on so many external

variables that it has to be taken with con

siderable caution. A nuclear war, for ex

ample, would change things considerably.

Still, I see no way of ignoring two out

standing facts. First, universities will

adapt in order to survive and will redefine themselves in ways that previously seemed

inconceivable. Second, the years from

1950 to 1970 represented a unique episode in national and world history, in which a

dynamically expanding global economy enabled the nations of the West to funnel

unprecedented resources into their higher education systems at the same time that consumers were able to add to these funds those derived from their own growing in comes.

Since 1980, our popular philosophers have spent much of their time singing the virtues of inequality. Now, inequality is

making itself felt within a higher educa tion system that devoted itself, for several

decades, to the opposite cause. If things continue as they are, the university I fore

see for the year 2000 will be a very un

equal place ? and quite possibly a rather

cheerless one as well. D

*

330 PHI DELTA KAPPAN

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