I wrote the following brief article, which was published (slightly modified) in the summer 1998 issue of the IWW (Industrial Workers of the World) educational periodical. --George Salzman, 2/22/98

      I began teaching in 1949 as a teaching assistant in the Physics Dept. at the Univ of Illinois at Champaign-Urbana. In 1972 I initiated an interdisciplinary radical science offering (two one-semester courses) at the Univ of Massachusetts at Boston, called, beginning in 1973, Science for Humane Survival (SfHS).

      The first question invariably put to me on this subject is: What is radical science? Science, in my view, is the process that offers the most powerful and profound way of coming to understand the nature of the physical and biological world. Critical thinking is the key ingredient in that process.

      By radical science I mean science that is not constrained by traditional academic disciplinary boundaries, but which insists on trying to understand the real world in its complete context. For example, a traditional scientist might study a starving group of humans and determine the precise kinds and extent of nutritional deficiencies (kwashiorkor, marasmus, etc.) in their diets. A radical scientist would not be content with such clinical information alone, but would also determine the context; the social, political, economic, climatic, and/or other relevant causal factors responsible for the starvation.

      As the example suggests, radical science is not only radically different than traditional science; it also often leads to socially radical viewpoints, positions not infrequently criticized as left-leaning. My belief is that rigorous critical thinking about socially significant problems -- like mass starvation -- will indeed lead to viewpoints that are left-leaning and valid.

      A fuller discussion is in: Introduction to "radical science". I want to turn now to

      In addition to radically different course content and orientation, as mentioned above, I try to teach SfHS in a radically different way. For example, in the last few years I've come to the first lecture with several loaves of (sliced) sour-dough rye bread I baked the day before, which I pass around with butter or cheese on a couple of trays. I come dressed casually: blue jeans, jogging shoes and a T-shirt printed, "Have you hugged an anarchist today?"

      I distribute a few handouts: a single sheet with information on how to bake sour-dough bread and an offer to share my sour-dough starter with anyone who wants to give it a try; a 30-odd page course syllabus with all the information about course structure and requirements a student needs; and a request-for-info sheet so I know who's in, or wants to get into the class. The registrar's class list is not accurate at the start of the term. The sheets help me know how many copies of course handouts I'll need. But the sheet is explicit that a student has a right to privacy and need not enter his or her address and/or telephone.

      The impact on students is immediate. I put no stock on fancy clothes. I place value on doing things myself, like making wholesome bread. The outrageously suggestive T-shirt message adds to a sense of nonconformity. I tell the students that I prefer to be addressed by my first name, no title. By contrast, I prepare the course handouts with meticulous care. I do that because I'm -- in psychojargon -- an anal compulsive, and I rationalize the time and effort it takes by maintaining that easily readable materials show respect for the students, and encourage them to read the thirty-odd handouts I usually distribute during the term.

      Also, to set the tone, I let them know that there are no examinations, and respond to their immediate concerns about how they will be graded by assuring them that if they fulfill the course requirements, which I explain, they need not worry. To complete the course, they must read four books, which they choose from a bibliography of about ninety titles, and write a critical review of each, plus a final critique of the course itself. I tell them, truthfully, that no one who completed those five papers, acceptably done, has ever complained about the grade.

      Each student enrolls in the large lecture section, which meets in an auditorium twice weekly for 75 minutes, and in one of several smaller discussion sections, which meet once weekly for 50 minutes. About 12 of the lecture meetings are guest presentations; the other 16 are for my lectures and for films and whole-class discussions, which have been remarkable for the extent of participation once students become relaxed.

      As I tell the students, my goal is to encourage them to become engaged in activities directed towards humane survival--to motivate them to actually take part in responding to the two major questions: 1) How can long-term survival of the human species in humane and ecologically stable conditions be achieved? and 2) How can individuals try to survive as healthy and vigorous humane beings in contemporary industrial capitalist society (the U.S.)? Sometimes I've jogged from home to class (6 miles) and lectured on metabolic energy. Student response to the SfHS courses has been very positive. For me, it's been both a great deal of effort, and enormously sustaining, a vital part of my life. Being radical is fun.