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this page is at http://site.www.umb.edu/faculty/salzman_g/Anarch/BestOfTimes.htm * * * Volume, shmolume, just read it! —published at taxpayers' expense— Nov. 25, 1976 Friends, colleagues, students, fellow workers! Are you tired of all the bullshit about unions, collegiality, etc., etc? Well then, hold your nose while another old bull steps up to—if you will pardon the metaphor—drop his load along with those `selected perceptions' already offered this inundated campus by the Steamers, the Van Ummersens, Golino (he's unique), the Goodwins, Wolozins, Browns, Powers, Weavers, Fausts, und so weite . . .Yes! Don't leave me out. I too am one of the lumpenintellectuals. In the inimitable words of our leader [The Collected Thoughts of Chairman Golino, Vol.1, No.2, p.1, column 1, paragraph 1, line 1.], ``Reality is what the individual chooses to believe it to be,'' or, in his own down-home crackerbarrel style, ``reality is a value judgement placed by an individual on an amalgam of selected perceptions.'' [Note: Carlo Golino, then chancellor of the Boston campus, actually wrote those words in the second of a series of statements he intended to prepare for the immortal archives of the university, i.e. the citation is exact! - January 30, 2004] Now, when I first read that I said to myself, ``Oi! Oi! Oi! Is that so?'' Let me admit, in all honesty, that for some years now I've been apparently misleading my students in a little course called modestly ``Science for Humane Survival'' by putting forward the idea that reality exists and is unique. The truth is that I never even thought about selecting my perceptions, let alone amalgamating them. I just try to see what's going on and to more or less dope it out. It's always seemed to me that life is complicated enough even without the help of philosophy. Anyway, in plain English, I'm writing to share with you some selected perceptions so that you may, if you choose, amalgamate them into the value judgement to be symbolized—if you vote—by the reality of the mark you place on your ballot. As for where bad ideas come from, it's from inadequate understanding of reality. That's selected perception number one. Some people think a union would solve a lot of our problems. Other people try to convince us it's not so. And they try in several ways. Those who think we have problems at Serve-the-People University have just selected the wrong perceptions. Or else they've amalgamated them incorrectly. Or both. No, dear friends, the idea that we have problems is a myth. It is a paper tiger which can do great harm to our joint enterprise . . . blah . . . blah . . . blah . . . We must resolutely destroy all myths! So, since we have no problems, why should you form a union? All it can do is to make problems. Instead of this higher educational Garden of Eden where we now joyously strive together, a union would make us into adversaries. Surely you don't want such a terrible thing to happen!'' The logic of this argument is too strong for me to contend with—so I'll talk about something else—like Wood does. IT'S HOPELESS TO TRY One can as easily present selected examples of union successes in gaining particular goals, an oppositely biased sample. The real problem towards which their argument points comes from the obvious fact that neither a union nor any other institution formed by a group of people has unlimited power. Its absolute, or inherent strength is determined by the unity of purpose and the resourcefulness of its members. Its effective strength in any given situation depends both on its internal strength and on that of the forces that counter its objectives. Clearly, just having a union isn't, in and of itself, going to solve a lot of problems. A union is only an instrument, a tool for struggling in the interests of those it really represents. If it's weak it's bound to be ineffective. If it's hierarchical it's bound to become corrupt, like every other hierarchy, and to serve the interests of the union bureaucrats in privileged positions. Our task, if we vote for a union, will be to try to make it strong, and to structure it, from the beginning, in a fundamentally democratic way so that there will not be any privileged union bureaucrats, in other words, to make it the exact opposite of the university administrative bureaucracy. But that's our problem. Returning now to the Steamer-Van Ummersen argument (I hate to dignify it with that word.), If Steamer and Van Ummersen thought a union had no potential to effect changes in the university they would be indifferent to the election. Their effort to oppose a favorable vote shows their recognition that in fact a union has potential. I guess some of my selected perceptions are slipping out without having cardinal numbers attached to them, but let's let it go. WE SHALL NOT BE LEVELLED Before proceeding to rebut this view, let me state the meat of the ad hominem argument. I know without a doubt that anything signed by 1) Ernest Becker, 2) Thomas Brown, 3) George Goodwin, 4) Herbert Lipke, 5) Richard Powers, 6) Bernard Rosenblatt, 7) Nevin Weaver, and, last but by no means least, 8) Harold Wolozin, if initiated by one or several of them, is bound, with 99 and 44/100's percent probability, to be very bad, and to represent their narrow, selfish, parochial interests. This statement, so unequivocal on my part, is based upon my experience since August of 1965, when I joined this university. I can without the slightest difficulty picture George Goodwin busy hustling signatures in his effort to serve the administration and to try to preserve and further his own privilege. If you want to know what I mean by special privilege, check out the wages (salaries is a euphemism for wages, intended to make us think we are more elevated than mere wage earners) check out the wages of the awful eight, and you will see how pleased the administrative hierarchy is with the ``meritorious service'' they have rendered to ``higher education.'' You may of course respond, and properly, ``But what about the other nineteen signatories of the November 17th memorandum?'' I do not know all the other signatories, from which it follows ipso facto that an ad hominem argument cannot be extended to all twenty-seven. In fact, there is one signatory for whom I have both affection and respect, so if anything that might pull in the opposite direction. In order to go further, we will have to deal with the 11/17 memorandum itself. Obviously, an ad hominem argument has its limitations. But I want first to say that I can understand my friend being persuaded to add his/her name as signatory. I think that he/she perceives him/herself as an élite intellectual, and was persuaded that the ``levelling'' which a ``union worth its salt'' would bring about would be damaging to the quality of education that the university offers. This kind of misperception of reality is a very important one to deal with, because it serves to divide those of us who actually do the work around here from one another—just what the administration wants, and just what the awful eight want. Can anyone picture, for example, Richard Powers trying to be a real professional—hanging out his shingle and inviting people to engage his services for tutoring in history. Let's face it. Most of us couldn't make a living by acting as professionals. What we do is to sell our services to this educational factory. Happily, it's not an assembly line operation, but one that uses the piecework method. We put out our student credit hours per semester, and the administrators tote it up. What we do as teachers is valuable in spite of the system, not because of it Esteemed colleagues. I'm running out of time, and you're probably running out of patience. I cherish my individuality as much as anyone—Ross and Mahon included—but the trouble is that the only effective way to protect ourselves from the administration's concept of ``collegiality'' is to band together in a union, and it better be a real union, which the AAUP on this campus is not. Don't let the system get you down. Long live the thought of Chairman Golino! Cheerio 'til next time. — G. Salzman
Is Ernest A. Lynton a Schlemiel or a Schlemozzel? —A NOTE TO OUR READERS— When I wrote The Best of Times: The Worst of Times, the Boston campus of UMass was young, having only admitted its first freshman class of one thousand students 11 years earlier, in September 1965. By then it was already clear to enough faculty and staff members that only organized resistance to the aggressive policies of the administration might protect our interests, and a majority voted for the Faculty-Staff Union (FSU). As I recall, the other two options for faculty were no union or an AAUP (American Association of University Professors) union. On May 5, 1997, almost 21 years later, the FSU celebrated its 21st birthday, a little prematurely, but that's OK. I took the occasion to distribute copies of The Best of Times, The Worst of Times to the celebrants, most of whom were not here 20 years ago, let alone 31 years ago, and who know little of the early struggles, the traumas which led, in barely more than a decade, to formation of the FSU. Recently I began a series of short notes, what I call the Greed Series. I believe the issues raised in those notes, primarily the enormous disparity in pay between people in the upper reaches of the UMB pay hierarchy and those at the lower end, ought to be a major union concern. The shift away from fairness is being driven by the overarching corporate drive to downsize everyone except, and for the benefit of, the very rich. Naturally colleges and universities are not exempt enclaves. The drive to do away with tenure and full time permanent work as a norm which most teachers can achieve, is an integral part of the movement, worldwide, to replace employees who hold secure positions with temporary (temp) workers. This is not something very new. It has been going on (at UMB) at least since 1975, as I will discuss in the note Greed 105, Getting Rid of Tenure. It seems to me that we ought to be aware of this larger context, and we ought to fight it like hell in our own backyard. The union's current slogan ought to be something like: No structural adjustment at UMB! But I don't see this. I don't sense any such ``radical'' orientation. We ought to recognize that the administrators are the agents of this devastating "structural adjustment", all these corporate euphemisms for screwing poor people, and we ought to attack what they are doing. I need to emphasize the distinction between attacking the people and attacking what they are doing. It's important to remember that they are not monsters, guided by a desire to do harm to people. The UMB administrators of 30 years ago had different names than those of today, but they played similar roles. That is why we must focus on changing the system. We must downsize the administration. On page 4 [of the currently available hardcopy facsimile] is the cover sheet I made yesterday for The Best of Times, The Worst of Times. —G.S., 5/6/97. [It is reproduced below.] or Out of the closet, pseudo-anarchist! Yes, friends, it's time to admit it. I tried, and failed. Twenty-one years ago the threat of a faculty-staff union loomed, like a racing nor'easter, over our campus by the sea, threatening our academic tranquility, our devotion to the advancement of higher learning, our intellectual community. Impending disaster! The year, 1976. It was Thanksgiving time (for white people, not Indians) and union elections were set for the 1st and 2nd of December. Some of you here today were working to assure a favorable vote (others are dead), and I was fearful. Suppose the union won. Oh, my God! What should I do? For years I had carefully guarded my cover, posing as an enemy of the Administration. Many faculty and staff who thought they were my friends were unaware that the Administration brought me on board even before the new campus opened for its first student body, unaware also that I was the only non-administrator hired with tenure. How could I get my trusting faculty and staff colleagues to vote against unionization without giving away my undercover role? Always a master of subtlety, I devised my scheme — and, I modestly admit, it was brilliant — although it failed. My plan was to write something really vulgar, scurrilously attacking administrators and their faculty allies, something in such poor taste that every honorable person on the campus who read it would feel there was no decent option but to vote so as to show his or her repugnance at the nature of my attacks. In a word — to support the victims of my vulgarity. Confident that I could thereby prevent unionization, I got to work, wrote The Best of Times, The Worst of Times on November 25, 1976 and circulated it widely on campus. And within a week the union was voted in. So it goes. A funny thing had happened. A lot of people liked it. They thought I was writing things about administrators (and aspiring faculty lackeys) that were not only true, but that ought to be publicly acknowledged. The occasion of today's celebration seems like a good opportunity to reissue The Best of Times, The Worst of Times. I still believe what I wrote then. But the administration is a modular system. Differently-named people can be inserted into the various slots. Their names change, but their characteristics and functioning remain largely invariant under the transformations. To help you savor the flavor of the original, I'm providing an alphabetized list of the dramatis personae. Ernest Becker chair of division of natural sciences, professor and first chair of chemistry —G.S., May 5, 1997
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