University History SeriesVersatile Berkeley Botanist:
|
Introductory Materials
Legal Information
All uses of this manuscript are covered by a legal agreement between the Regents of the University of California and Lincoln Constance dated 15 May 1986. The manuscript is thereby made available for research purposes. All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to The Bancroft Library of the University of California at Berkeley. No part of the manuscript may be quoted for publication without the written permission of the Director of The Bancroft Library of the University of California at Berkeley.
Requests for permission to quote for publication should be addressed to the Regional Oral History Office, 486 Library, and should include identification of the specific passages to be quoted, anticipated use of the passages, and identification of the user. The legal agreement with Lincoln Constance requires that he be notified of the request and allowed thirty days in which to respond.
It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows:
Lincoln Constance, "Versitile Berkeley Botanist: Plant Texonomy and University Governance," an oral history conducted in 1986 by Ann Lage, Regional Oral History Office, The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley, 1987.
Preface
When President Robert Gordon Sproul proposed that the Regents of the University of California establish a Regional Oral History Office, he was eager to have the office document both the University's history and its impact on the state. The Regents established the office in 1954, "to tape record the memoirs of persons who have contributed significantly to the history of California and the West," thus embracing President Sproul's vision and expanding its scope.
Administratively, the new program at Berkeley was placed within the library, but the budget line was direct to the Office of the President. An Academic Senate committee served as executive. In the more than three decades that followed, the program has grown in scope and personnel, and has taken its place as a division of The Bancroft Library, the University's manuscript and rare books Library. The essential purpose of the office, however, remains as it was in the beginning: to document the movers and shakers of California and the West, and to give special attention to those who have strong and often continuing links to the University of California.
The Regional Oral History Office at Berkeley is the oldest such entity within the University system, and the University History series is the Regional Oral History Office's longest established series of memoirs. That series documents the institutional history of the University. It captures the flavor of incidents, events, personalities, and details that formal records cannot reach. It traces the contributions of graduates and faculty members, officers and staff in the statewide arena, and reveals the ways the University and the community have learned to deal with each other over time.
The University History series provides background in two areas. First is the external setting, the ways the University stimulates, serves, and responds to the community through research, publication, and the education of generalists and specialists. The other is the internal history that binds together University participants from a variety of eras and specialties, and reminds them of interests in common. For faculty, staff, and alumni, the University History memoirs serve as reminders of the work of predecessors, and foster a sense of responsibility toward those who will join the University in years to come. For those who are interviewed, the memoirs present a chance to express perceptions about the University and its role, and to offer one's own legacy of memories to the University itself.
The University History series over the years has enjoyed financial support from a variety of sources. These include alumni groups and individuals, members of particular industries and those involved in specific subject fields, campus departments, administrative units and special groups, as well as grants and private gifts. Some examples follow.
Professor Walton Bean, with the aid of Verne A. Stadtman, Centennial Editor, conducted a number of significant oral history memoirs in cooperation with the University's Centennial History Project (1968). More recently, the Women's Faculty Club supported a series on the club and its members in order to preserve insights into the role of women in the faculty, in research areas, and in administrative fields. Guided by Richard Erickson, the Alumni Association has supported a variety of interviews, including those with Ida Sproul, wife of the President; athletic coaches Clint Evans and Brutus Hamilton; and alumnus Jean Carter Witter.
The California Wine Industry Series reached to the University campus by featuring Professors Maynard A. Amerine and William V. Cruess, among others. Regent Elinor Heller was interviewed in the series on California Women Political Leaders, with support from the National Endowment for the Humanities; her oral history included an extensive discussion of her years with the University through interviews funded by her family's gift to the University.
On campus, the Friends of the East Asiatic Library and the UC Berkeley Foundation supported the memoir of Elizabeth Huff, the Library's founder; the Water Resources Center provided for the interviews of Professors Percy H. McGaughey, Sidney T. Harding, and Wilfred Langelier. Their own academic units and friends joined to contribute for such memoirists as Dean Ewald T. Grether, Business Administration; Professor Graff Wilson, Public Ceremonies; Regents' Secretary Marjories Woolman; and Dean Morrough P. O'Brien, Engineering.
As the class gift on their 50th Anniversary, the Class of 1931 endowed an oral history series titled "The University of California, Source of Community Leaders." These interviews will reflect President Sproul's vision by encompassing leadership both state- and nationwide, as well as in special fields, and will include memoirists from the University's alumni, faculty members, and administrators. The first oral histories focused on President Sproul himself. Interviews with 34 key individuals dealt with his career from student years in the early 1900s through his term as the University's 11th President, from 1930 to 1958.
More recently, University President David Pierpont Gardner has shown his interest in and support for oral histories, as a result of his own views and in harmony with President Sproul's original intent. The University History memoirs continue to document the life of the University and to link its community more closely--Regents, alumni, faculty, staff members, and students. Through these oral history interviews, the University keeps its own history alive, along with the flavor of irreplaceable personal memories, experiences, and perceptions.
A full list of completed memoirs and those in process in the series is included in this volume.
The Regional Oral History Office is under the administrative supervision of Professor James D. Hart, the Director of The Bancroft Library.
9 November 1987
Regional Oral History Office
Room 486 The Bancroft Library
University of California
Berkeley, California
Introduction
by William B. Fretter
I've known Lincoln Constance as a fellow professor at the University of California for thirty-four years, but I worked most closely with him in the College of Letters and Science, first as a member of the Special Committee on Objectives, Programs, and Requirements, then as assistant and associate dean of the college during his deanship. When I eventually succeeded him as dean of Letters and Science, the lessons I learned under his tutelege served me in good stead.
In 1955, when Lincoln became dean of the College of Letters and Science, the Special Committee on Objectives, Programs, and Requirements was hard at work reexamining and upgrading the college's entire program, from entrance and graduation requirements to major and breadth requirements, to advising programs. It became the job of Dean Constance to enforce the new rules, dealing with a sometimes recalcitrant student population. He was unrelenting in his firm but fair enforcement of the rules, guided in his task by his insistence--as he puts it so succinctly in his oral history--that he did not become dean of L & S to "preside over the cesspool of the campus." As assistant and associate dean, I sat in on weekly meetings with Lincoln and the staff, in which we conferred on difficult cases as we sought to apply the new rules fairly. It was in these sessions, usually discussing the problems of individual students with a request to the dean for exemption from the rules, that Constance's willingness to listen openly and his sense of fairness were apparent, as were his high standards for himself and others.
During the years we worked together in the College, I had many opportunities to observe his skill at interacting with his fellow faculty members. The new requirements meant change in many campus departments. And along with an upgrading of student performance, the dean determined to upgrade the few departments in the college which showed signs of neglect or lethargy. Not all department chairmen were enthusiastic about the major changes taking place. It was in dealing with this situation that Lincoln's skills were most apparent. I think he succeeded where many would have failed in large part because of his respect for his fellow faculty members and for their individual disciplines. He always listened to the objections of his fellows, never engaged in confrontational battles. Instead, he would appeal with his considerable persuasive skills to the best side of his opponent. Working individually, discussing the issues, stressing the importance of undergraduate education and the high standards of the University, he would gently bring the recalcitrant faculty member into line.
As a result, Lincoln Constance was highly regarded among his fellow faculty members. His sense of fairness. his respect for individual disciplines, his love and respect for the University of California were
Lincoln Constance's career on this campus been a long and fruitful one--coming as a graduate student in 1930; appointed as a faculty member in 1937; serving as chairman of the botany department, 1954-1955; dean of the College of Letters and Science, 1955-62; and vice-chancellor of the Berkeley campus. 1962-65. Always ready to serve, the consummate good citizen of the Berkeley faculty, he has served on over fifty committees, subcommittees, and task forces on campus ranging from the Committee on Junior and Irregular Teaching Personnel, to the Advisory Committee to the School of Nursing, to the chairmanship of the powerful Academic Senate Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Relations. Since his formal retirement in 1976, he has continued to be an active member of the Berkeley campus community, still pursuing his botanical research and still available for work on faculty committees, advisor to students and fellow professors. He has received many honors in his long career, none more significant nor important to him, I suspect, than the high regard in which the Berkeley faculty continues to hold him.
April 1987
Berkeley, California
Introduction
by Mildred Mathias
My association with Lincoln Constance dates back precisely fifty years to correspondence in March 1937 concerning the loan of specimens of Cogswellia (now Lomatium) from the herbarium of the State College of Washington at Pullman. Little did I expect that early request to lead to decades of joint "pursuit of parsley."
Shortly after that initial contact Lincoln joined the staff of the Department of Botany at the University of California, Berkeley, where I was then struggling with the parsleys for the North American Flora. By that time, I had accumulated a fair amount of manuscript and there was some reason to believe that I might not finish it for publication. Consequently I did a serious bit of arm-twisting and the team of Mathias and Constance was born. It turned out to be a successful delivery since the manuscript for the Umbelliferae for the North American Flora was completed in 1942.
The multiplication of my family, the war, and our respective moves to Binghamton, New York, and the Washington, D.C., area led to a lapse in sciadography for a few years except for the inevitable proof-reading.
For the next five years my pursuit was not of parsley but of children while Lincoln returned to Berkeley and renewed his studies of the family Umbelliferae. In 1947 I joined the Department of Botany at UCLA and after several exchanges of letters we agreed that cooperative efforts would be resumed, the main research collections would be deposited at Berkeley, and I would retain at UCLA a small reference collection to aid in routine identifications.
However, the cooperative efforts lagged since Lincoln left Berkeley for a year on an interim appointment at Harvard, where in spite of many other duties, he managed to collect a significant amount of information on South American umbles as the basis for future studies. He also became better acquainted with the eastern establishment.
Carl [Epling] would be delighted to know, I think, that I am talking to the New England Botanical Club in a couple of weeks on, "Is a New Taxonomy Necessary." He might think it less funny that I'm also talking to the Biology colloquim this week on "Some Foibles of Biosystematics." Thus, you see, I try to establish my role as a middle-of-the-roader, or a damned hypocrite. [Constance to Mathias, 24 February 1948]
The new taxonomy and biosystematics were catch words of the day with the publications during the war years of Julian Huxley's The New Systematics (1940). Clausen, Keck and Hiesey papers on "Experimental Studies on the Nature of Species" and "Experimental Taxonomy" (1940-48), Edgar Anderson's studies (1940-41) leading to his book on Introgressive Hybridization (1949), Dobzhansky on Genetics and the Origin of Species (1941). Ernst Mayr Systematics and the Origin of Species (1942) and papers by Ledyard Stebbins leading to the publication of Variation and Evolution in Plants (1950). Students returning to the colleges and universities after war service brought more experience and maturity to their studies. They were exciting years in the early fifties as taxonomy became "new" by moving from the herbarium into the laboratory and the field with transplant experiments, studies of populations, cytogenetics, etc. What was needed and what Lincoln provided and still provides was a balanced view of the subject. Each new approach adds and hopefully improves our knowledge and understanding of taxa and their relationships. The herbarium still provides the voucher collections where the variability and nomenclature are preserved and documented As he entitled his 1950 presidential address to the American Society of Plant Taxonomists. the "new" taxonomist must be "The Versatile Taxonomist."
To return to umbels: When possible during the next thirty years I managed to ascend to the umbel level in the herbarium at Berkeley to pore over the collections of umbels and manuscript drafts and discuss with Lincoln problems and possible solutions.
Having temporarily disposed of the umbels of North America, we concentrated on South America. Everything south of the United States' border was pioneering. Collections were meager, often only a single sheet or a fragment for a species, and many taxa still uncollected (as we found out); the literature was sparse and ancient with the only "complete" worldwide treatment of the family being that of Augustin Pyramus de Candolle in 1829 and 1830; and many of the type specimens had been destroyed during the wartime bombing of Berlin, where Hermann Wolff had been intensively studying and describing South American Umbelliferae. J. N. Rose, following a preliminary treatment of the umbels of Mexico and Central America, had left a series of handwritten notes that I had been given after his death. What was available in the way of notes, literature, and specimens was concentrated at Berkeley and Lincoln accurately described the state of knowledge in a letter early in 1948:
At any rate, Rose's eight herbarium names aren't much help, and of the three things Wolff described, he saw mature fruit of only one! No wonder things were in a mess....When I get done, they'll probably still be in a mess, but a slightly different one. [Constance to Mathias, 24 February 1948.]
The correspondence waxed and waned during the years as both of us became more involved in administrative and other academic duties. The letters from Lincoln were written in what he called "my hour" and kept me informed of progress such as the arrival of an undescribed species from one of our correspondents:
We have just had another "blessed event" about which I thought you ought to know. [Constance to Mathias. 10 May 1949.]
The enclosed items are...to keep you up-to-date on the activities of the Center for Prosecuting (mainly) Latin American parsleys. [Constance to Mathias, 15 August 1961.]
There were letters back and forth bemoaning the lack of time for research, the accumulation of loaned specimens that should be annotated and returned but were still needed for study, and the masses of specimens that were needed or came unexpectedly:
I suppose we might just as well offer to determine all their Umbelliferae for them, in order to get an opportunity to see what we want. This way, every time we solve one problem, we turn up two or three new ones...more fun! I enjoyed Rose's [J. N. Rose] notes: he seems to have been about as confused as we are, possibly even more so. With the stuff I now have on hand he'd have had ten new genera and fifty-six new species, possibly he would have been right! [Constance to Mathias, 21 July 1950.]
It was obvious that, in order to understand the Umbelliferae of the western hemisphere we would have to pick away genus by genus on a worldwide basis. One of the first genera to tackle was Oreomyrrhis with its unusual southern hemisphere distribution extending from southern Mexico to the tip of South America, across to New Zealand and north as far as Taiwan. In 1952 I wrote Lincoln:
I am going to dig into Oreomyrrhis now and make some pretense of putting the whole thing together in an orderly manner which you will be privileged to tear apart. [Mathias to Constance, 30 July 1952.]
That expresses well the cooperation. Sometimes Lincoln wrote the entire paper and I tore apart the draft; other times it was the reverse; and in some cases we split the effort and one wrote the introductory pieces
It is in Azorella (as I found with the Ecuadorean stuff) that all the walls seem to be coming down around our ears. Either one has a species for each of several dozen paramos, or else one is forced to come to the conclusion that these cushion-umbels are actually extraordinarily plastic and variable, as their behavior in the greenhouse should have told me. [Constance to Mathias, 16 May 1975.]
By 1978 I was more and more involved in extra-umbel activities and the cooperative efforts on the Umbelliferae have essentially ceased but Lincoln has continued in the studies:
I came to the realization some time ago that if I planned to continue with Umbelliferae, I should have to pretty much "go it alone." Going it alone is not a very accurate description. I guess. In attempting to handle the "Umbel business" I am continuing to get involved in all sorts of minor projects with various people. [And he follows with a list of eleven individuals from various parts of the United States, Mexico. South America, Europe and Asia with whom he is cooperating on joint umbel adventures. finishing the list with] Alone...? [Constance to Mathias, 18 September 1978.]
The numerous collaborators indicate the influence Lincoln Constance has had on students throughout the world. The list of those who worked with him during their doctorate programs includes many of the distinguished taxonomists of today. Lincoln has been internationally known as a mentor for over fifty years to generations of both undergraduate and graduate students; as a distinguished researcher and student of the Hydrophyllaceae and Umbelliferae; and as an able field collector who has pursued his favorite plants through the herbaria of Europe and South America and in the field, particularly in western North America and South America.
The innumerable honors that he has received are recognition of his botanical contributions and his standing among his peers: president of The American Society of Plant Taxonomists, The Botanical Society of America, and The California Botanical Society; member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences; membership in the Academia Chilena de Ciencias Naturales, Sociedad Argentina de Botanica. Societe de Biogeographie (Paris). Instituto Ecuatoriano de Ciencias Naturales (Quito). Sociedad Botanica de La Libertad (Trujillo. Peru), Linnean Society of London, and Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences.
The citation upon receiving the Asa Gray Medal of The American Society of Plant Taxonomists, its highest award, expressed well his position in botany:
Lincoln Constance has been mentor to all of us. In a series of papers that are too insightful and vatical to be considered reviews, Lincoln Constance defined and set the course for the coming age of systematics. As a participant in biosystematics his papers serve as models for the field of cytotaxonomy. His contributions to taxonomic research range across floristics, biogeography, cytotaxonomy, and palynology. [Systematic Botany 12:186, 1987.]
He has been a continuing proponent of "Systematic botany--an unending synthesis." It has been a fruitful fifty years, an honor and a privilege to call him a colleague and a friend and to have contributed a small piece to his research.
University of California, Los Angeles
Los Angeles, California
Interview History
Lincoln Constance joined the faculty of the University of California at Berkeley as assistant professor of Botany in 1937. As he explains in his oral history memoir, the University had the policy of hiring promising young scholars, with the expectation that they would, within the environment of excellence provided by the University, advance to leading positions in their respective fields. The faculty, once gaining tenure, expected to finish out their careers at Berkeley. This sense of permanence and belonging, coupled with a strong tradition of faculty participation in University governance, encouraged the faculty's willingness to serve the Academic Senate and the University as committee members, department chairs, and campus or University-wide administrators.
The career of Lincoln Constance validates that University policy. As he progressed through the professorial ranks, he also advanced steadily to a role of national prominence in his field of systematic botany. His oral history gives some insight into the everwidening scope of his investigation into the parsley family, Umbelliferae, and the growing role that he took in helping his field assimilate wisely the swiftly expanding state of botanical knowledge. His prominence in botanical research, however, was not achieved by a neglect of teaching responsibilities. In fact, as demonstrated by the sampling of professor-graduate student relationships documented here, he has influenced his field most profoundly, perhaps, by serving as mentor to nearly half a century of plant taxonomists.
While pursuing his parsleys and guiding his graduate students, Constance also engaged in the third aspect of the professorial role--service to the University. He has served on innumerable Academic Senate committees, but his remarks in the oral history focus on his chairmanship of the powerful Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Affairs--what effectively is the University's faculty personnel committee, reviewing all appointments and promotions and issuing recommendations to the Chancellor that are rarely rejected.
By 1954, Lincoln Constance had already developed a reputation for "knowing everyone on campus" and understanding how the complex system of University of California governance worked. He was asked by Chancellor Clark Kerr (based on the recommendation of a faculty committee) to serve as dean of the College of Letters and Science during a crucial period in its history. He recalls his work as dean to upgrade the college by strict enforcement of the newly instituted faculty-designed reform measures. Unyielding, but fair and evenhanded, Constance demonstrated his high expectations for the performance of academic departments and undergraduate students
It is easy to understand, then, why the explosive force of the Free Speech Movement with its rebellious student (and nonstudent) activism and its disregard for conventional courtesies and traditional academic modes of operation were so dismaying to Lincoln Constance, who served as vice-chancellor during this turbulent period. Although he was seldom involved directly in working with the FSM leaders, he was in a position to closely observe the operation of the Chancellor's Office, and his memoir brings a valuable perspective to the historical record of this well-remembered period of the University's history.
Throughout his administrative career, Constance found time to continue his botanical research. Therefore, when he gave up his administrative responsibilities in 1965, he resumed his professorial career and has given more than twenty additional years to the joint pursuit of parsley and service to the University and scientific communities. The final interviews record this prolific period, including the directorship of the University Herbarium, presidency of the California Academy of Sciences, and a host of publications, often based on his cooperative work with botanical researchers from Russia to India to South America.
This series of eleven interviews with Lincoln Constance took place at approximately weekly intervals during the winter and spring of 1986 in his office in the Life Sciences Building. There in his office were apparent the interests and habits of mind of a professor in his fiftieth year at the University of California at Berkeley. Still very much a working office, it contained letters from his far-flung correspondents, sheets of obscure Umbelliferae from around the world with requests for his assistance in identification, and cabinets of carefully arranged files, from which he could retrieve in minutes a significant letter from thirty years past to add information to our recorded sessions.
Professor Constance's manner is quiet and low key, supremely courteous, always modest. His ironic sense of humor, we hope, comes through in the written transcript of these tape-recorded interviews. The transcripts were lightly edited for continuity and clarity and reviewed by Professor Constance with minimal changes. Tapes of the interview are available in The Bancroft Library. On behalf of future researchers of University and botanical history, we would like to thank the Chancellor's Office and the College of Letters and Science for underwriting this interview.
Regional Oral History Office
486 The Bancroft Library
University of California at Berkeley
I Youth and Education in Eugene, Oregon
[Interview 1: January 23, 1986]1
Family Background
LageLet's just start with the most simple question of when and where you were born and then tell us something about your family.
Constance
Okay. I was born in Eugene, Oregon--actually, it's now a part of Eugene though it was two miles outside the city limits--on February 16, 1909. My parents were Lewis Llewellyn Constance and Ella Clifford Constance.
Lage
And had they been residents of Eugene for a while?
Constance
My parents moved to Eugene the year before I was born, from Wisconsin, where they were both born and grew up. Three out of four of my grandparents were immigrants. (I take it you want to know about my grandparents.)
Lage
Right, I'd like to know back at least to your grandparents, where they came from and--
Constance
Well, a recent distant relative sent me some genealogical material on my father's family. According to her, the Constance family, presumably, came from somewhere in northern France to England with William the Conqueror and settled at a place called Longhope, in Gloucestershire. I don't know the exact occupations of the different ancestral line, but my impression is that they were craftsmen of some sort. Somewhere along the line I heard that my great-grandfather made beer barrels, but I can't really prove that. Somebody else said that they made baskets, or some sort of more or less skilled handwork, presumably.
At all events, my grandfather, who was Charles Enoch Constance, born in 1821, came with his father and some other members of the family, I think, to North America about the middle of the nineteenth century. My grandfather Constance served in the 21st Wisconsin Volunteer Infantary in the Civil War and participated in Sherman's campaign.
Lage
Were there any stories about why they came?
Constance
Don't know at all. I have no idea. His wife, Margaret Rogers, was born in Cardiff, Wales.
I'm supposed to have some genealogical material on my mother's family, but I couldn't lay my hands on it. At all events, my mother's family--the Cliffords--came to Massachusetts quite early. They missed the Mayflower apparently by not more than twenty years or so, and several were participants in the Revolutionary War (Bunker Hill, etc.). And that's the only part of the family that was in this country for a long time. Her mother presumably was born on a ship coming to the United States, while it was anchored off Prince Edward Island, Canada. So, as I said, three of my four grandparents were immigrants. I never saw any of them.
Lage
Was your mother's family English in origin, also?
Constance
Yes. There are Cliffords all throughout history. They're mentioned in Shakespeare; I think they're all villains. I think there was an Earl of Clifford; he was a thorough s.o.b. of some kind.
Lage
But you don't know whether to trace yourself to that line?
Constance
No. It's a relatively frequent name, but it's English, obviously.
So much for my grandparents. All of them were dead before I was born, excepting my father's mother. I think I can remember his receiving a telephone call telling of her death when I was four. It made quite an impression on me because I remember his answering the phone and then turning to my mother and saying, "Mother died." For some reason, that seemed to carry a great deal of weight with me, but I never knew any of them.
Lage
Did you know why your parents came to Eugene?
Constance
Not really. My information on the subject is garbled. My mother and father were both born in Wisconsin. My father attended Lawrence College and then the University of Wisconsin
So my parents did come, as I said, in 1908. My brother suggested recently that he thought my mother's unexpected pregnancy--she was forty--might have had something to do with it. I never thought of myself as being a causative factor. I had always heard that they had come because of his health, because that was the period when, if someone had poor lungs, he immediately moved to Colorado, or Arizona, or wherever, if he could do it.
At all events, I mentioned this to my mother sometime before her death--she died at the age of ninety-four in 1963--and she said no, she wasn't aware that there was anything wrong with his health. If it was anything, it was her health.
Lage
So maybe it did have to do with you.
Constance
Maybe so. I hadn't thought that I was the occasion for it. At any rate, why they chose Eugene, I have no idea. Perhaps because it was the seat of a university.
Lage
They didn't have relatives there?
Constance
I had an uncle living at Independence and an aunt living at Salem, which are not too far away, but I simply do not know. All I know is that they bought a ten-acre plot of land southwest of Eugene and tried to make a living farming at it.
Lage
Your father didn't go back to law?
Constance
So far as my brother or I am aware, my father never practiced law in the West. He was once, so to speak, a candidate for public office. A group asked him to run on the Prohibition ticket for something, and he said he would do it if he didn't have to campaign. So he didn't campaign, and he didn't win. That's about all we know about that.
He had been born on a farm, but at that particular time and place trying to make a living on a ten-acre farm--unless you were raising diamonds--would have been a disaster. So the move was an economic disaster for the family. We had, I suppose, what would be called a fairly hard-scrabble youth, although we didn't know it. At least I wasn't aware of it. We had a very strong sense of family stability.
Everything seemed normal, and certainly our parents did everything they thought would be good for us. My mother was always concerned that, living in the country, we would be penalized by absence from cultural things of one sort or another, and she was very anxious to try to counteract any lack in any way she could.
Mother was quite a dominant character. In some ways, she was a perfect New Englander although she'd never been in New England. I've sometimes said I never fully understood her until I spent a year at Harvard, and then a lot of it became very clear. She went to a seminary, which I guess was a sort of equivalent of high school at that particular point. And she worked as, I suppose, a secretary, or perhaps what we'd call an administrative assistant, for, I believe, the publisher of a farm magazine. We used to have copies of them around the house when I was a child. Whether it was a publishing house that published only farm magazines, whether they published only one magazine, I don't know. The name that sticks in my mind is the American Thresherman. Now, whether that is one of several publications, I don't know. I think it was published in Madison, or some other town in Wisconsin.
Lage
You say she went to a seminary. Is that where she was educated?
Constance
That's correct. It was roughly something beyond the high school level. I don't know quite what. In those days, they had academies and seminaries; it wasn't religious. But, at any rate, she worked before she was married; that is the point. I don't think she worked after she was married.
A Rural Youth
ConstanceI think my parents married in either 1898 or 1899. My brother was born in 1903, and I was born six years later--a year after they had arrived in Oregon. So my mother never worked after they came West, and as far as I know, my father never practiced law--gave it up completely. And, from then on, his health was a problem a good share of the time. So, we grew up "in modest circumstances."
Lage
Were you far from Eugene? Was it quite a rural setting?
Constance
Two miles. We were equidistant from a rural school and a school in the western part of Eugene, and my parents decided we should go to school in town. So we walked two miles every day each way, which was fine when the weather was nice, but not always. Eugene has a fairly mild or slightly damp climate.
My family gave up the farm--we sold it--and moved to town when I was eleven, which would make it 1920. I went to two elementary schools, a junior high school, and the public Eugene high school. I didn't go to school until I was eight. I started in the third grade.
Lage
Was that unusual?
Constance
Yes, I think probably. My mother taught me at home, presumably, so I could read and so on, before I went. She thought it was too much of a hike for a youngster of six or seven years old. And so I think that I went to the third grade, the fourth grade, the fifth grade, and half of the sixth grade--I skipped half of that and I skipped half of the seventh grade--and the eighth grade and four years of high school.
Lage
Was that unusual to skip grades then?
Constance
I'm not sure. Obviously, I have no real basis for comparison. All I know is what happened to me.
Lage
Did you show an interest in school? Did you excel in school?
Constance
More or less. I always thought all my teachers were wonderful. I think they all thought I was a pain in the neck. Well, I remember particularly--I think it was my fourth grade teacher--I had a great crush on her, and she was teaching us geography. As far as she was concerned, Europe remained exactly as it was after the Congress of Vienna, and this was after World War I. I had been collecting postage stamps. She had never heard of Czechoslovakia and what I thought was "Jugoslavia" and so on and so on. I knew about the new countries, and I suppose I kept raising my hand and saying, "But teacher, the Austro-Hungarian Empire isn't there anymore," and I'm sure she wished I would get lost.
Lage
That's probably why you got skipped ahead.
Constance
That was one way to get me out of class. But, I think that I enjoyed elementary school, and I don't think there were any great problems that I can remember. I was, you know, a bit naive and something of a country bumpkin. I was not athletic, which was quite a handicap, in those days at least. Also, I had to wear glasses, and any boy who did was fair game for the local bullies. But I don't remember any particular difficulties.
I remember it snowed a time or two and made us several hours late for school, things like that. We had to cross a small stream, which was locally known as the Amazon Slough,
We were somewhat isolated in the country, it's true. Neighbors in that part of the world were usually a mile or so away. There were relatively few who had children my brother's age or my age. We were sufficiently far apart in age that we normally did not have the same friends. We were not terribly close. Our interests were different, our friends were different.
Lage
So you relied on your own resources a great deal.
Constance
A good deal of the time. And that was probably one of the reasons I got interested in natural history, because we were on the edge of essentially wild country. My mother felt that, in the absence of urban cultural vehicles of one sort or another, it only made sense to interest my brother and myself in natural history. With him it became a hobby filling all his life, cherished all his life. And with me, it turned into a profession.
Lage
What has he done as a hobby with it?
Constance
Well, he likes to wander around national parks, travel here and there. He has a passing knowledge of natural history. It didn't really become part of his education, per se. It might have, I suppose, if things had happened to work out that way, but they didn't in his case.
Lage
We didn't get his name.
Constance
His name is Clifford. Clifford Llewellyn Constance. He and I both attended the University of Oregon. He graduated in physics, went to Chicago, and worked for Western Electric Company for some years. Much of the time he was supporting my parents, in part, because they were getting in bad shape. And then he wasn't very happy with that work; he found it was pretty much prescribed work. He came back to Eugene and took a master's degree in psychology. Then I suppose, probably, the Depression may have finished off the funding--I'm not quite sure. And he took a job in the registrar's office and spent most of his career as registrar of the University of Oregon, from which he retired--when he retired--and he's still living in Eugene. So that was the sibling situation.
Interest in Natural History
LageLet's go back and talk a little more about how you got interested in natural history, and how your mother promoted it, and what form it took.
Constance
Well, really about all it took was to open the door and let me through it. There were woods around, and I went through all the stages of interest that people involved in natural history get into on their own. I used to think it would be a wonderful thing to stuff animals, for instance. It seems to me I worked on a couple of mice and discovered that my stuffing, my taxidermy, didn't do much for either the mice or me. And so I moved from that to butterflies, and I was very much intrigued by butterflies and moths for a long time. I wanted to get caterpillars and raise them, and have them flying around the house. And then gradually I worked up to an interest in plants, rocks, you name it.
Lage
Did you read about these things and classify them?
Constance
To some degree, yes, but it never became systematic. Well, with butterflies and moths, I got to the stage where I was just beginning to get into recognizing scientific names. I knew that swallowtail butterflies were Papilio. If they still are, I don't know. And I had some sense that caterpillars produced adult insects, and what they lived on and things like that. I knew that you could find milkweed larvae and grow monarch butterflies from them. But it wasn't terribly systematic.
Then, I got involved in summers in some of the YMCA camps after we moved to Eugene. In those camps we were often encouraged to get involved in natural things; that probably had a good deal to do with stimulating the interest. And some of the YMCA secretaries or other personnel who were involved in these camps gave me a good deal of encouragement about it. Instead of being pointed out as the local crackpot, I was given a certain amount of praise and recognition because I knew more about these things than the others did.
Lage
Did the other kids value this also, do you remember?
Constance
I suppose one would say that, at best, it amounted to a certain bemused tolerance. It certainly didn't carry the honor that being a really good athlete would have, but it was not scorn.
Lage
I interrupted you when you started to tell about your botanical interests.
Constance
The interest in plants is the one that survived. I don't know quite why. I suppose these natural history interests carried along pretty much through high school. To some extent, they dropped off in college. I was interested enough in college that I took a biology major, but I never wanted to go into medicine, and of course biology, to all intents and purposes there, was headed for medicine. That's where all my classmates went.
Lage
Did they have a botany department?
Constance
Yes, botany and bacteriology. I took some bacteriology, which I didn't particularly care for, but it was part of it. Well, one of the things that happened, perhaps, is that I got acquainted--I suppose, through my parents--with some of the people at the university. And I found it a fascinating place to go; people sent in things that they wanted to know about. The University of Oregon had a small collection of scientific plant materials. I believe they also had some animal materials, and so on, as well. I don't remember so much about that.
Oregon has an organization called the Mazamas, which is an alpine club, of sorts. "Mazama" is supposedly the Indian name for the mountain that was Crater Lake. The secretary of the Mazamas was a man named Martin Gorman, who had an office in Portland and was an amateur botanist. He collected plants in some of the mountain areas, primarily, and also in Alaska. At his death, this collection went to the University of Oregon. They really didn't have anybody capable of handling it, I suppose, so they induced Louis F. Henderson to come and care for it. He had been a professor at the University of Idaho, had had his plant collection burn up, and had then gone into apple raising in Hood River. He had more botanical knowledge of the classificatory kind than anybody else, I suppose, in the state at that point. They got him to come down to Eugene, and I got acquainted with him.
Lage
Was this when you were still in high school or college?
Constance
This was when I was in high school. I used to spend every Saturday morning when I could, at least, up at the university hobnobbing with him. They had a few graduate students, at least two of whom went on into professional botanical life.
I had had quite a bit of experience and very little knowledge, but I was fascinated by anything that came along that I hadn't seen before. And without really knowing what I was doing, I was very lucky at figuring out what some of them were. So they used to save things that came in, if they couldn't identify them readily, to see if this young squirt could, by any chance, identify it. Sometimes I did. Of course, that was very exciting.
Lage
Now what does it take? Why did you have that facility? Was it because you knew so many different kinds of plants?
Constance
I suppose so, because I suppose I was a good observer and I was interested in looking at what seemed to me to be relationships or differences.
Lage
I mean, you must have had an ability to see things that some of the others couldn't.
Constance
I suppose you have to. Well, a great deal of classification of anything is, of course, observation, and doing your own computing, shall we say. I read some, and I at least looked at the pictures of the National Geographic and books on butterflies, and this sort of thing. But I didn't get into it with a really scientific basis for some time.
I got some help in the university. The chairman of the department was a man named Albert Sweetser, who used to write articles for the newspapers on spring plants, and things of that sort. I remember he had a master's degree from Harvard, which was quite an accolade.
I took biology in high school, and one of my teachers there--her name was Ruth Sanborn--had a sister, Ethel Sanborn, who was a botanist in the university at Eugene and later transferred to Corvallis, to Oregon State College. She was interested primarily in structural botany--in other words, how plants are put together--and she came into contact with Ralph Chaney, who was a professor of paleobotany here at Berkeley. They worked together on a fossil deposit of plants, called the Goshen floor. Goshen is a little town a few miles from Eugene.
I had her backing, and Sweetser's backing, and Henderson's backing, and I had a pretty good academic record. So when I came to trying to figure out what I was going to do after I finished college, I was in a pretty good position.
Undergraduate at the University of Oregon
ConstanceI don't know what there is really to say about my college experience. It's relatively uneventful. I graduated from high school in 1926. I went directly into the University of Oregon. I flirted with the idea of going to Oregon State and taking forestry, and actually went over there with a friend who had been the president of the student body in high school during the
Lage
Was this something of a financial burden?
Constance
It was a financial burden on my parents. My parents really worked desperately hard to see that my brother and I got an education. We always expected to go to college, university--
Lage
And that was always a goal for them--
Constance
Oh, yes.
Lage
And for you.
Constance
I've always felt that my father got me through college and then almost collapsed.
Lage
Did he die soon after that?
Constance
No. He lived for nine years beyond that, but in very poor health. I should say that, as I mentioned before, my mother was a stalwart character. Certainly, physically she was the stronger member of the team. My father, by 1920, really couldn't handle farm work. They came to town. They sold the place, which gave them, I suppose, a little security for a while. He took up manual labor as what we call now a custodian or a janitor, first in the public schools, and then at the university. He was very conscientious.
##
Constance
He was obviously better educated than many of the people he worked with. As a result, he made friends with members of the faculty, students, and so on. I suppose I wouldn't have gotten access to the university in the first place if he hadn't known people there.
Lage
Why is that?
Constance
Well, it would take considerable initiative, in those days at least, I think, for a high school youngster to go barging into the university. Nowadays, I suppose kids would think nothing of it. They didn't have Lawrence Halls of Science in those days.
Lage
Oh, you mean go up there as a high school student. I thought you meant enrolled as a college student.
Constance
No, no. I mean as a high school kid. Because, you know, I already knew the biological end of the university before I ever entered it, because I had been hanging around it for two or three years.
In 1928, Mr. Henderson unexpectedly got a small sum of money from somebody. And, he was not well because he had overworked himself and developed a hernia, as a matter of fact. He sent one of the faculty members, young faculty members, and me (then an undergraduate Junior) over to eastern Oregon, to collect plants for him. That was my first professional experience as a botanist. I collected plants in Klamath County and Lake County in eastern Oregon.
I did it the same way he did. There was a stage which was usually an old seven-passenger automobile, which would go a couple times a week to some of these relatively widely dispersed towns. You'd take this stage, say ten miles out of town, get out, collect plants, and spend the day, should you be so lucky, getting to the next place.
Lage
And how did you choose what spot to stop in and pick your plants?
Constance
I suppose simply on the basis of where it looked as if you could make a pretty good haul. In other words, you might stop in a marsh one day, see an interesting mountain over there, and the next day, you would aim for it. As a result, you would cover quite a bit of territory. Of course, you had to cart all your stuff with you. Sometimes it was quite awhile between meals, drinks, and whatever. But, at any rate, it was very interesting because if everything worked right, you could, you know, make a lot of good connections; if it didn't, you might be there for three days waiting for the next stage.
I remember meeting one fairly salty character, who I believe raised race horses at one time, and he insisted on taking me home with him. I spent three days there, at a place called Summer Lake, which was quite interesting. I remember that's where I saw my first rattlesnake. We were out walking around at dusk, and the rattlesnake came buzzing down the road at us, I think a little bemused by the heat. So, he put his cane on the rattlesnake's neck, and I put a rock on the rattlesnake's head. We obviously cut off the rattlers for a souvenir. At any rate, I spent a couple of months in that area, which was a really good experience.
Lage
Were you carrying a backpack or a suitcase, or what?
Constance
Well, I had a press, which I probably carried in a backpack. I don't remember. I may even have a picture of myself doing it. But that would probably have been the way of doing it, because with a frame and an assortment of papers and some sort of absorbent material, you could collect plants and dry them by sticking these things out to dry. It was hot most of the time, so they'd dry all right. That was the way of carrying stuff around. It was an interesting experience.
Lage
You were a student at Eugene then, at college?
Constance
That's right. It was during the summer of my junior year. I'm trying to think about particularly noteworthy college experiences. The first two years I took a very heavy course load, what was then eighteen units per period. We had a quarter system, and that didn't leave you much time to spend. And then the last two years I took a lighter load and worked in the reference library. That was fun; I enjoyed that. I don't remember how they had the library divided, but this was where the students came to get books for what were then the big reading courses.
Lage
Were there any impressions made that affected your view of education later?
Constance
I don't think particularly so. I don't remember having any particular thoughts on the subject. I took a rather erratic program, myself. I suppose my mother may have had something to do with it, I don't know how much. I never liked mathematics. I had taken mathematics from the football coach's wife in high school, and that dried up any interest I ever had in it. She was a very glamorous gal, but she wasn't much of a mathematics teacher, I think. And my mind is not very mathematically oriented. I found mathematics repelling. I liked language, I liked history. I didn't take as much English as I might have liked to. I didn't take physics, primarily, I suppose, because it had so much mathematics. I'm not quite sure if they gave physics in high school when I was there. I didn't take it in high school. I took biology by choice in high school, and in college, I did take chemistry. But, it isn't the kind of a curriculum that I would later have recommended for somebody going into biology. It was just sort of hit or miss.
My problem, if it was a problem, was that I always got interested in anything I got involved in. I took a course in Scandinavian literature because everybody said it was the easiest course on campus, which it wasn't. But I read everything they recommended, so I learned quite a bit about Scandinavian literature. I haven't had much chance to go back
One year-course I remember was an obvious hodgepodge, which consisted of one quarter of Chinese history, one quarter of Japanese history, and one quarter of Latin-American history, which was taught by Verne Blue, who had been a doctoral student of Herbert Bolton at Berkeley. Bolton, of course, was the man who essentially invented Latin-American history in this country. So that was an early antecedent, I suppose, of an interest in Latin America, which bubbled up later.
II Graduate School at the University of California, 1930-1934
Applying for a Teaching Assistantship
ConstanceI don't remember very much about my undergraduate experience that was notable, but I know it was recommended by several people that, perhaps, I ought to do graduate work. I wasn't necessarily sold on the idea of doing graduate work. I think if I could have gotten a job, I probably would have taken it. Of course, that was about 1929 and things were not all that plush.
Lage
Did you have thoughts of what kind of field you would go into if you didn't go on to graduate school?
Constance
Well, I suppose I might have gone into most anything that came along. I applied, at the urging, I guess, of Miss Sanborn, probably by way of Chaney, and also by way of one of the zoologists. He was A. R. Moore, a very good research zoologist. He had studied at Naples--an internationally famous marine station there--and how he got to the University of Oregon, I'll never know. Whoever thought he could teach elementary biology should have had his head examined. He was absolutely impossible as an undergraduate teacher. I got to know his teaching assistant, one way or another--I really don't know how. Dr. Moore would give beautifully-rounded lectures to a freshman class on the development of the urino-genital system in vertebrates, let's say, or parasitism in marine coelenterates, or something, but with no background, no nothing. I did ask the T.A., "Where in the world can you get information on this sort of thing?" And he gave me help and recommended some of the standard zoological texts. I read them all.
I think that we must have had a class of one hundred and fifty, or something like that. In those days, they used to post grades at the midterms. My recollection is that about thirty people got passing grades, and the other one hundred and twenty all got Fs. I was one of those who received a passing grade, so I became quite something in the eyes of this gentleman, and he
I had no particular interest in that, but at any rate, I did apply to Berkeley--I think, maybe, along toward the end of the spring quarter, because I didn't have any visible means of support or anything else at that point--and I got a very nasty letter back saying, "We fill our teaching positions before Christmas."
So that was that, and the summer went along. And along in July I got a wire from Berkeley saying that someone had dropped out, and that if I would care to apply, they would be happy to look at my recommendation. Well, by that time, everybody I knew was off the campus, so I had to go around and talk to my history professor and my German professor, and so on--
Lage
You didn't have your botanical and biology professors?
Constance
I didn't have more than one or two of them, at any rate. And I was quite pleased when the history professor said, "Are you applying for an assistantship in history?" I said, "No," it was in botany. But, at any rate, they all wrote for me, apparently. The Berkeley Botany Department was probably lucky to get anything that could wiggle at that particular time in the year. Things were pretty rough in 1930, as you could guess.
At any rate, I came.
Lage
Were your parents pleased with that move?
Constance
I'm sure they must have been. I don't remember, really.
Adjusting to the Grind on Fifty Cents a Day
LageDid the teaching assistantship pay for the education?
Constance
Oh sure, yes. Let's see, I'm trying to remember what we were getting. I know we had responsibility for twelve hours of lab a week. And I know that I developed a routine. I didn't eat any breakfast. I think I was eating on fifty cents a day. In those days, you could get either, if I remember correctly, three what we now call Danish rolls or a milkshake for fifteen cents, and
Lage
Now you get about one candy bar for fifty cents.
Constance
Oh, I know. I lived around in all the boarding houses and rooming houses south of the campus and north of the campus, and wherever. We students managed to get along on very little. We had to. But at any rate, I did nicely on that.
Lage
And the tuition--you must have had an out-of-state charge.
Constance
No, we didn't. We had an exemption as teaching assistants. I'm sure we didn't pay any. We couldn't possibly have; we didn't make that much. I can't remember how much we got. I should, but I don't. It wasn't all that much, but--
Lage
But it was enough.
Constance
It was enough. It could be done.
When I worked in the library during my junior year at Oregon where the students came to get their books, I met my wife. That was one of the reasons I was perhaps less enthusiastic about graduate work than I might otherwise have been. So mostly I worked hard as a student--I'd say, not particularly inspired for the first couple of years. Then, the third year, I began to get really interested.
Lage
So the first couple of years here at Cal--
Constance
--were pretty much of a grind, pretty much of a grind. I didn't like the professor who was in charge of the elementary course, where most of the teaching assistantship was done, and he didn't like me.
Lage
Shall we mention names here?
Constance
No, I don't think so. He tried to get me discontinued as a teaching assistant, and he might have been successful, but he also took a dislike to the brightest, most senior graduate student in the department at the same time and tried to get rid of both of us, and that was too much. So we survived.
The chairman of the department called me in, along toward the end of my second year, and suggested maybe I'd like to go to the University of Hawaii, which I think was a general suggestion it might be nice if I were somewhere else.
Lage
What was the dissatisfaction?
Constance
I was insubordinate, if I remember correctly. There was a failure of communication, I think. He was very overbearing, and I was not about to be overborne.
Teaching Assistant to Professor Jepson
ConstanceAt any rate, Professor Jepson, at about that point, called me in and asked me if I would be his teaching assistant for the next year. And so I did that for a couple of years, and that got me clearly started on a problem, and you know, things began to roll along.
The first two years I was a graduate student, '30 and '31, I spent the summer working as a ranger naturalist at Crater Lake Park, which was kind of fun. Of course, you had to lead nature walks, tell people about the birds, the bees, the flowers, give lectures, and so on. I was pretty shy, as a matter of fact, and that pretty much knocked it out of me. You really had to be able to stand up in front of a group and talk.
Lage
Did you find you rose to that occasion all right?
Constance
Yes, I usually rise to occasions. When I have to do something, I usually do it. So, that was--Crater Lake--was a wonderful place to be, as well. And it came along just, I think, at the right time. I think that I developed fairly fast as a graduate student during that period. I gained self-confidence and moved on fairly well.
Lage
Was Jepson helpful in this process of moving along?
Constance
Not really. By the time I knew him, he was not very active, shall we say. He was quite aloof. He didn't really know what I was doing. And I was scared to death of him, as was everybody else; there was nothing novel about that. He was a very aloof character. I can't say just how, but I think I really got quite a bit from him, as a matter of fact. He was a genius in his own way, I think. He considered the flora of California to be his oyster, and he more or less resented anybody else (other than his students) who dabbled in it. And he had very high standards, which, I suppose, we absorbed by osmosis, more than anything else.
Lage
Not by direct teaching--
Constance
No, I don't think so. Well, we had very little contact with him. He had a weekly seminar, which usually had anywhere from three to eight graduate students in it. And they had the same topics every year. Of course, students get onto that very quickly, so you'd get last year's list, and you added a few references to it and give the same thing over again in your own version. But still you learned something. There was a little discussion, not much. I don't think anybody really felt at ease in the seminar because you never knew quite what was going to happen.
Lage
He was a little unpredictable; is that what you're saying?
Constance
Quite. One of the students, who was a colleague of mine, was quite emotional. He got terribly excited about something, and he said "damn," whereupon he was ousted from the seminar because, (imitating professor's voice) "No one in my (Professor Jepson's) history has ever had the affrontery to use foul language in my presence," and so on. So you see, there was a little of a--
Lage
You were on edge.
Constance
A little bit of edginess. On the other hand, graduate students learn a lot from each other. We did.
William A. Setchell and Willis L. Jepson: A Study in Contrasts
LageI don't see, in your discussion here, any evidence of great inspiration from a teacher in the botany department. Was there anyone in particular who did inspire?
Constance
The botany department, at that time, consisted primarily of two stars, who were Setchell and Jepson. William Albert Setchell took his master's degree from Yale and his doctorate from Harvard, and he came here as assistant professor and chairman in 1894. He remained chairman until 1934.
Lage
He must have put his stamp on the place.
Constance
Oh, he did. And the only other person here, really, at that time was Jepson, who was a native brought up in Vacaville, near Fairfield or Vallejo. He was somewhere in the graduate student-assistant stage. I think he had the title of assistant, or Setchell made him assistant, I'm not sure. They were pretty much the same age and completely different as personalities. Jepson was very shy, diffident, some would say paranoid.
In fact, I had a visit from Professor Axelrod, now down at the Davis campus--both of us retired, now, but he's a paleobotanist--and he was talking about him this morning. He said that he had found Setchell more stimulating than anyone else he had ever experienced in his academic life.
I took a couple of courses from him, and I enjoyed that. I suppose the age disparity, or whatever, was sufficiently great that I didn't really feel too much at ease with either Setchell or Jepson. But I had great admiration for both of them. I don't think I ever took a lecture course from Jepson. I don't know if he ever gave one while I was here. So the only contact I really had, until I was working on my thesis problem was that he used to pop into my office occasionally.
Lage
He directed your thesis, more or less?
Constance
I did it under his direction, shall we say. Actually, I got a great deal of help from the man who was then his assistant, Herbert Mason, who later became a full faculty member.
Lage
He was a young person at that time, wasn't he?
Constance
Well, let's see, he's eighty-nine now, so--he was some years older than I--but he was young enough to be on an informal basis with the students at that time, and that helped to bridge gaps. But I would say there was a pretty major gap between the students and faculty at that time.
Students like to say whether they were in various professors' homes, or not. I don't think I was ever in more than two. The year I took my degree, I was the only student in the department who had reached that august pinnacle. There were relatively few graduate students. Several of them were married and were more or less in their own little worlds. I was lonesome for the first two years. I was really very unhappy because I didn't seem to be getting anywhere much. I didn't particularly like any of my associates. Oh, no, that's not true entirely. But I lived in boarding houses, and sometimes there was someone there I enjoyed, and frequently there wasn't. I worked pretty hard, and I would rather have been someplace else, I think, but there wasn't any other place to be. But that, too, passed, like everything else. Eventually I got thoroughly wound up in it, and it was fine.
Lage
You spent four years?
Constance
I spent four years, that's right.
Dissertation on Eriophyllum
LageAnd what was your dissertation on?
Constance
I worked on a group of sunflower relatives, a genus called Eriophyllum. One of the problems that graduate students have is finding a problem on which to work. This is solved sometimes by having somebody assign them something. In recent years, in many areas--to my view, at least--a professor slices a little piece off some problem on which he's been working for a long time and which is really his, and then the graduate student does that piece. With or without credit, that is sort of moved over into the professor's stock of knowledge and what the student does next is not quite clear--if he doesn't elaborate the same piece.
You tend to get this kind of specialized "schools" in academic work. I think it may be particularly true of the physical sciences, but it's true also of other areas. You frequently have a particular laboratory, where the professor works on a given group of plants, and he has ten students working on various aspects of this same group. I've never liked this. I've always thought a student should have something that was truly his own. In fact, I've always discouraged students from working in the groups that I've worked on, although some have insisted on doing so. Some have come here to work with me because they were interested in the particular group I was. But still, I try to be sure that they have something really of their own.
Well, at any rate, Jepson made a list of things that I could work on. He didn't tell me I had to work on one of them, but I probably had asked him. Perhaps he volunteered it, I'm not sure. At all events, he came in with a list. I looked down the list and recognized at least one name, and I think that's probably why I chose it--as simple as that. The interesting thing is that the first thing he suggested, I think, was that I work on the carrot family or parsley family or Umbelliferae of Oregon. I turned that down flat because it was a very difficult group, and I didn't think I should ever find my way successfully through that. That, of course, turns out to be the group I have spent most of my life working on! The second topic on his list was the flora of Mt. Tamalpais. He had a propensity to divide up the state and assign a mountain to each of his graduate students.
In those days, you'd have to take the ferry to get to Marin County, to begin with. I tried to figure out the timing, the financing, and so on, and decided I couldn't possibly achieve it within any reasonable time--and besides. I'd be broke if I did. So I wasn't very enthusiastic about that.
I did do a master's thesis on Redwood Peak, which is one of the higher members of the Oakland Hills, and that was a good project for me because I learned every plant on it in every stage of its development. That kind of knowledge is very useful.
I finally chose Eriophyllum to work on, and I spent the summer of my third year doing field work. I bought an old Chevrolet, and with the help of the owner, who lived in one of the boarding houses I did, ground the valves. I drove it all over that summer.
##
Constance
The field work involved most of northern California, with, I think a little digression into Nevada and then into Oregon and Washington. I really needed to do more in southern California, but somehow, I didn't manage to work that in. So I basically did without it, but it would have been useful.
Lage
Now, what would be the basic purpose of--?
Constance
You select a particular group of plants, and then you go out and study them in the field. Then you study the accumulated preserved material--not only what you have in the institution where you're working, but you usually borrow from all of the other major institutions that have materials of it.
Lage
And they're willing to send this to you?
Constance
That's right. It's an elaborate system of inter-institutional loans, which we all operate on.
And then you try to evaluate the group you're concerned with--try to figure out how many kinds of representatives it has, what their differences are, what their similarities are, what their distribution is, anything else you can learn about them. Ideally, you try to grow them. You may do some genetic work on them. You may try crossing them, you may not. You may study them in greater detail, anatomically. Nowadays, you very possibly may make comparisons with not only microscopic, but also electron-microscopic things like pollen, and things of that sort, simply to learn as much as you can about them.
Lage
Do you have to choose something that hasn't been studied in this way?
Constance
Well, probably everything has been at least partially studied, but the problem is to get it all together. Not only that, but these things have to be updated from time to time because new information comes in all the time.
For instance, someone just brought in two specimens for me to look at: one each in two families that I work with. It's perfectly possible that one of these might be something that, you know, adds to or subtracts from previous knowledge. Now, for example. I was looking at something in the herbarium the other day, and the material was from Ecuador, I think. There were two plants represented in this one collection. And it was perfectly clear that the two plants, which were growing in the same place and which the collector, at least, thought were the same thing, represented what had been regarded as two distinct species. This made me realize that, as a matter of fact, the thing that supposedly was the second species was merely an extreme form of the first one. So down goes one species. That's one way change may go.
On the other hand, very often something comes in. and you look at it, and you realize, well, this is not anything that I've seen before in this group. Therefore, it must be something new and different which has to be properly characterized, named, recorded, and so on. And that's the way the thing moves. You're adding all the time, you're reevaluating all the time, and I hope that we'll be doing this as long as there are natural things around.
Birds were pretty much classified a long time ago, according to the ornithologists. Mammals certainly have been reasonably well taken care of, I would guess. I think most entomologists would say that they are only at the beginning, that there are tens of thousands of undescribed species.
Many botanists maintain that in the tropical forests of the world, there are a great many things which have never been entered into the annals of science, and the chances are a great many of them will be lost before their discovery. So, that goes on all the time. That is the kind of thing that I am interested in.
For instance, that picture on my desk was taken in the mountains of Idaho. A colleague of mine from the University of Wyoming, who is studying here at the moment, and I gave it a new name and designation. It had been confused with something
Lage
[Laughs] Gentle assault, though.
Constance
General. Not necessarily gentle, just general.
Lage
Well, your portion of it is a gentle one.
Constance
Yes, relatively speaking, that's correct.
Lage
Did you come up with some new discoveries and explanations in this graduate thesis?
Constance
Well, I don't think anything particularly earth-shattering. I think I got a respectable thesis out of it. I learned how to do this sort of thing, how to express myself, and so on. The thesis yielded several of my initial publications. I even did a little illustrating, which I've never tried to do since. I don't have any artistic talent that anybody's aware of. Then I never worked again in the area of that particular group (Compositae), so it didn't really determine my direction. A thesis is basically an exercise which may or may not contribute a great deal to the world's knowledge on the subject, but it contributes a good deal to your own ability to do comparable things. I suppose.
III Washington State College, Pullman, 1934-1937
A "Half-Time" Position
LageBy this time, were you thinking you'd go on to university teaching?
Constance
I didn't have any doubt about it, really, I suppose. I'm pretty pragmatic. I work at what's in front of my nose and try to do a good job of that. Other things tend to fall into place, I think. I don't remember making any particular decisions, that "Sure, this is it," and so on. I was already into it, more or less by accident. And it was like putting something in a tube: you have to go out the other end unless you're going to back up, and nobody wants to back up.
Lage
Were there other options besides university teaching for the Ph.D. in botany?
Constance
Very few, very few. There are somewhat more now, but it's not the sort of field, you know, that has IBM and Xerox waiting for you to emerge when you earn your degree. Actually, the position I took when I left Berkeley to go to Washington State--I think I may have told you the other day--I turned it down in January and took it in June. But, that was the only job that anybody had even heard of that year!
Lage
Now, you turned it down in January of the year '34, was it?
Constance
'34, that's right.
Lage
Because--
Constance
Because I was close to finishing my doctorate, and I didn't think I wanted to take a job at that time.
Lage
They wanted you right away.
Constance
Yes, they must have wanted to get somebody to come for the spring quarter. I decided that it didn't make sense to spend three and a half years working on a doctorate, and then drop it. I think I probably realized that I wouldn't get a lot of time to work on it. By and large, this doesn't happen so much nowadays, but it used to be that people would take a position during their graduate training and then try desperately to finish the darn thing, while learning how to teach and so on. I don't think that's a very reasonable way of going at it. I like to finish something and then go to something else, if at all possible.
Lage
But the job was there for you in June?
Constance
They couldn't get anybody else. The depression was still lingering on. This particular position had been a full-time position and had been reduced to a half-time position. All the faculty were given a 10 percent salary cut. It was very democratic--they did it right across the board. The instructors were cut 10 percent, as well as the full professors, and so on. So, as you might imagine, there wasn't a great deal left. It wasn't a very attractive position, but I really didn't have another choice. and I would rather have taken that than nothing. So I took that. I'm trying to remember--I think it paid $875.00 for the year. You can see why a lot of people didn't want it. But it was a wonderful experience.
Lage
Now. you say it was half time. Does that mean you were paid for half time and worked full time?
Constance
Yes. I was paid for half time, and I worked about two-and-a-half time. I wasn't married, and I worked twelve hours a day, seven days a week, regularly.
Lage
Primarily teaching, or trying to keep up with your research?
Constance
I did a little research. but not much. I taught three courses and was in charge of the herbarium. The herbarium had been neglected for eight years. and the teaching was in pretty bad shape, too. I think I taught a total of five courses during the year. I taught two courses in taxonomy. I taught one in ecology, which I had never taken, and I taught one elementary course. I guess it just was four courses. I have forgotten the details of it now.
Lage
It was a lot of preparation.
Constance
It was quite a bit. I was busy, no doubt about that, but I enjoyed it.
Lage
This was Washington State College?
Constance
Yes, it was then Washington State College at Pullman, which was (and to some extent, still is) basically an agricultural college. It is now Washington State University.
Lage
Were you teaching agricultural students. then. primarily?
Constance
Primarily students in agriculture and range management. Botany was not in agriculture, but it was on the edges of it. That's where most of the students came from. They used to say that the University of Washington had the School of Forestry, which taught them how to cut down trees and that Washington State, Pullman. taught range management, which was how to grow them. So there was quite an emphasis on ecology, systematics, and taxonomy.
Lage
Where did you get your guidance on how to teach, how to prepare a course? Or was there any?
Constance
Of course, as a graduate student, I was a teaching assistant for four years. When I worked in the Park Service, I lectured. I suppose I learned by imitation. primarily. I always made an outline of what I was going to talk about. I had notes. I don't think I ever fully wrote out a class lecture in my life. I'm sure that my lecturing may not have exactly delighted some of the people who would have liked to see less of plants, and so on, but I still think that if you know your subject, are interested in it. and are conscientious, you can probably do a pretty fair job of teaching. I'm not much impressed by most of pedagogy. per se, which I suspect you'll find. is characteristic of most university professors. It used to be a sort of accepted view that people who thought most about the presentation of information were probably not necessarily the most efficient in doing it.
I took one course in education as an undergraduate, and I thought it was a disaster, frankly. I remember they gave us a final exam which had a hundred true and false questions. Each section was supposed to do half of them. I did half of them, and nobody else seemed to have moved, so I did the other half. They graded me on all of them for being smart, and I missed one. I think I missed the date of the founding of Harvard by two years or something, which I should have known better. (My apologies to Harvard's 350th anniversary!) But, you know, there wasn't much substance to it.
Undoubtedly, there is much to be learned about presenting materials, but I don't think that that is the crying lack in education. Some people are good at it, and some people are not good at it. I don't think I'm the world's greatest, but I don't
Lage
Now you were teaching ecology, and you really hadn't had any background in ecology. How did you go about teaching it?
Constance
That's true. Well, there wasn't much substance to it, in those days, so I read a couple of books. I kept three jumps ahead of the class. After teaching one book for one year, I couldn't stand it anymore; I thought it was hopeless. So I got another one and used that for a couple of years. although it wasn't terribly appropriate for the area. Most of it was fairly simple-minded. A lot of these things have gotten much more complicated and much more at least pseudo-scientific. Ecology now runs to graphs much more than it used to. How much substance there is in it, I'm not quite sure.
Lage
Had you taken courses in the School of Forestry here as a student?
Constance
No.
Lage
I understand they had an ecologist. Was he Arthur Sampson?
Constance
That's right, and I knew him rather well; I worked for him one summer; and in fact, I apparently made a great impression on him. Somebody had accumulated tremendous piles of eucalyptus from all over the state--just a mess--and they wanted somebody to work over this collection and put it in some sort of order. I threw out nine-tenths of it and organized the rest of it. He thought I was great. Well, ecology is mostly common sense, and field observation. and so on. I don't think I did a sensational job of teaching it. I don't think many other people did either.
Lage
It was sort of in its infancy at that time, wasn't it?
Constance
Pretty much, pretty much. It was dominated by Frederick E. Clements, who, I'm sorry to say. was a windbag. It was terribly inflated, for one thing. Clements was a graduate of the University of Nebraska. who became probably the dominant figure in American ecology. He was particularly noted, among other things. for his love of picking up Greek terminology. They used to say he called a spade a geotome. [Laughter] He had something more than that to go on, but he didn't believe in genetics. So he was not the world's greatest scientist, but was quite an influential figure for a long time in the field.
This department had a very low and, to some extent, I think, deserved opinion of ecology at the time. It wasn't for many years that we really could ecology in the department because there was so much dubiousness about it.
Summer Work Collecting in the Redwoods
LageIs there anything to add about your experience at Washington State?
Constance
As I said, I accepted the position there starting in September of 1934. I took my degree in spring of '34, and that summer I immediately went up to Humboldt County because Jepson had been doing a survey of the recently-purchased Bull Creek Flat redwood grove. which was then bought by Save-the-Redwoods League as a park. He was making a survey of what was growing there, and he was not in good health, so he asked me if I would go. The arrangement was that I was to live in a CCC camp (Civilian Conservation Corps) and make as thorough a collection as I could. I could continue doing it until I felt it was no longer worthwhile going on. So I did that. It was a CCC camp in a place called Dyerville on the Eel River. Later, it was washed away in a flood. which was the end of Dyerville. It was quite an interesting experience because they had a group of young people--if I remember correctly, they were mostly from Akron, Ohio--and my impression was that probably most of them had never seen a tree before, and all of a sudden they were out in a redwood forest.
It was run by army officers. When I first got there--I don't remember how I got up there--I presented a letter from Jepson to the commanding officer and asked if there was any place I could stay because we were miles from anything else. He read the letter and said, "Doctor, we don't have anything that would be suitable for you." And I said, "Well, I don't know what's in the letter, but I'm not fussy." So I wound up living in a bunk house with the staff, who were mostly old lumbermen who managed activities for the youngsters who were out making trails, chopping down trees, or whatever. They--the lumbermen-- were a very salty crew and were really quite a bit of fun. Naturally, having a young Ph.D. thrust in on them was a little unsettling, if anything. But I got along fine with them. I think the reason I did was that there was almost nothing by way of recreation. These chaps would come in--of course, they'd worked hard--they'd come in, have dinner, and go to bed. The only thing around. after you'd read the few books--which I did very quickly--were pulp magazines. They would read one of these things for about an hour before dinner, or just after dinner,
The first few days I was there, the weather was beautiful, and I collected masses of stuff. And when you collect the stuff, you have to dry the papers you put it in, or put in driers that you dry out, put in, and remove, and so on. It then rained for the next sixteen days. And if you didn't do something about it, you would have one of the most elegant examples of mold in the country. So I waited until they had gone out in the fields. Then I strung wires around the main room of the bunkhouse, ran the wires through these blotters, and fired up the wood stove to about ninety degrees to warm up the place, and dried the blotters all day. I then tried to get it cooled off by night. There was some mumbling about how hot the place was by the time they all got back. although it had cooled it off considerably by then.
But, at any rate, that stove carried me through, and I managed to get this stuff through without it all spoiling. It was kind of fun. It actually reached a point where people would bring stuff in for me--both the kids and the staff would bring in things. They went out, you know, farther in some direction than I got. They brought in things I had never seen. I worked at it for about six weeks, I think.
Collecting in the Northwest
ConstanceThen I went up to Oregon and met an old friend of mine who, incidentally, has just retired as a professional geologist for the Geological Survey of America. We went up in the Cascade Mountains and hiked all over the place. I collected plants there, which I took to Pullman. I believe I had gotten a thousand or so sheets--which is the unit we use for specimens. To give you an idea of what I mean, this is something brought in a couple of days ago for me to look at. This is a sheet. [shows Ann a folded half newspaper with dried plants in it]
Lage
So a thousand of these is quite a collection.
Constance
That's right. One of the ways that you develop herbaria is to get things from other institutions. You send them specimens and then they send you specimens. So you collect things in duplicate, and then you send the duplicates, and you get other things back extensively over the course of time. It's a so-called exchange program. So I went to Pullman with some
Lage
Did you have students helping you with it?
Constance
Yes. This was in the National Youth Administration period--the NYA--and I usually had one or two student assistants. I was very fortunate in that one of the people I had as a teaching assistant, starting the first year--who really was my first graduate student--became a very distinguished botanist. This was Reed Rollins. who recently retired from Harvard as Asa Gray Professor of Botany. I wrote a biographical statement about that part of his career, which you can add to your collection of ammunition. It may give some sense to what we we were up to.2
Lage
So Washington State did have a graduate program?
Constance
Yes--sort of.
Lage
Well, this was sort of fortuitous that your first graduate student was very interested and capable.
Constance
That's right. He was one of the best students I ever had. if not the best. He was about my age, or a couple of years younger. You see, I was fairly young at the time, and we had a good deal in common, as we still do today.
I got my degree at twenty-five, so at that age your ties are much more to the graduate students, let's say, and students in general, than to the senior faculty.
I should mention that Reed Rollins spent two years with me at Pullman. Then [Harry] Clements and I tried to arrange his going elsewhere for his doctoral work, and he went to Harvard. Not only did he do well, but he did so well that his success also helped me.
Lage
He helped you, you say?
Constance
He helped me because he made such an excellent record, and since he always credited me with being the one who launched him, that was nice.
During the first two years, we did a lot of work in the field. The Pullman area is not terribly interesting, botanically; it's open "prairie" country. So we worked more in northern Idaho, which was then quite wild, heavily forested. I don't know what it is like now, I hate to think, but it probably is considerably less wild and considerably less forested. At that time, it was a very interesting, challenging country to be in. There were a lot of things that were poorly known, if at all.
A Network of Correspondents
ConstancePeople in other parts of the country interested in particular groups of plants were very anxious to obtain material from there, so we got into correspondence with botanists around the country and beyond. And it was easy, in a sense, to make a name for yourself in your profession through correspondence. And I was a pretty good correspondent; I did a lot of letter writing. I still do. I correspond with most everybody in my field in this country and abroad, I suppose.
Lage
It seems to be a field that has more of a network of correspondents and sharing than some do.
Constance
I'm sure that's true. I think that's probably quite a good insight that, since we do depend upon exchange of materials and exchange of information-- Well, I just got a letter from my first Chinese student, who asked me to send him a xerox of something which was written by a Frenchman, who had connections in Nepal--this sort of thing gets pretty complicated.
##
Pullman being somewhat isolated. about the only way you could make contact with people in your profession was by correspondence or by an occasional visit. Of course, if a visitor came through, that was marvelous. When anybody came through, I'd probably take two days off and take them up in the mountains, or something of the sort. You made very good friends that way, and so by the time I had been there two or three years, I had at least made contact by mail with a fair share of the people in the country in my field. And the fact that I'd come from Berkeley was probably a plus--people knew and admired Setchell and Jepson.
Lage
So, Berkeley did have a reputation.
Constance
Berkeley had a good reputation, yes. Jepson was very much respected--his work was very much respected. Not very many people knew him personally, I think. In fact, I introduced him to several whom he had never met, although they lived next door, so to speak, for a number of years.
Not only that, but Professor Abrams, who was the taxonomist at Stanford, was exceedingly nice to me. He wrote and asked about something or he wanted some specimen, and he sent me reprints. He treated me very generously. So I was the beneficiary of a lot of good will from various people for various reasons.
Lage
This must be a continuing theme because you've mentioned that in your later career, people accused you of knowing everybody.
Constance
Yes, I suppose that's true. I've always enjoyed people in the profession and out of it. And I always had a lot of correspondents; I sort of lived by it, I guess. I probably spend a lot more time on it than I ought to, but it's been satisfying.
Marriage and Job Offer from Berkeley. 1936-1937
LageIs there anything else we should say about Washington? Did you get married while you were there?
Constance
Yes. Sara (Sally) Luten, my college sweetheart, and I were married on July 12, 1936. So you can see that we're almost at our golden wedding anniversary.
Lage
Was she from Portland?
Constance
She was from Portland. She had lived alternately between Seattle and Portland. I met her when we were juniors in college at Oregon. One of the reasons I wasn't too happy in my first couple of years at Berkeley was that it was a long way from Portland.
Lage
People in those days didn't think about just going ahead and getting married and making do as best they could.
Constance
Some did. I thought what you were going to say is that they didn't think of not getting married, but just started living together. I don't think that was an accepted part of the general way of doing things at that time.
Lage
It seemed to me the decision to get married was more often based on whether you felt you were economically secure.
Constance
It was. Remember, we were children of the Depression. Her father was a banker, and her mother was the only girl in a family of five. Her four brothers and her father, Sally's grandfather, were all in the lumber business in one way or another, at one time or another. One of her uncles became a farmer ahead of his time in the Medford region. He should have been Harry and David--the exporters of beautiful fruit--he loved to grow beautiful fruit. But with the economy at that time, transportation just didn't make it commercially possible. So he grew beautiful fruit, but he didn't make a living doing it. Then when Sally's grandfather and his sons came west, they invested--they had done very well in Michigan--in timber in the Pacific Northwest. There were a series of fires and transportation problems and so on, and they had a very rough time during the Depression. My family was also having a very rough time, so we had a great deal in common.
The first automobile I ever owned I bought before we were married, so we took our wedding trip down the coast to Berkeley. We tried to trace this a few years ago and found that lots of the places we remembered particularly were no longer visible--and are now covered with people. But at any rate, that was her first experience of California and after a year in Pullman, part of the spring in the Snake River Canyon, and temperatures of thirty-seven below in the winter, she was more than willing to come back to Berkeley--and we had the opportunity to come.
I mentioned Setchell before, whom I really hadn't known terribly well as a graduate student; I was rather in awe of him. He had retired by the time I went to Pullman. [He retired in 1934]. At all events. he was back East visiting his sisters in Rhode Island, and for some reason he wrote a note to me, just sort of a well-wishing note: "If you have any problems. let me know." By this time I was up to my ears and not very happy with the situation at Pullman. And so I unloaded. I wrote him a long, garrulous letter about what a dump it was, a "cow college" with all the trimmings.
There were a lot of things I didn't like. It was a school which had been progressively depleted. They had a conscious policy of hiring young people, getting as much out of them as they could, and then letting them go. That is, if you got an offer from someplace--fine--so, they get somebody else for less than they had paid you and worked the tail off him. As a result, the staff consisted largely of people who had never gotten an offer from anyplace else and probably never would. I remember that the vice-president of the college was an officer of one of the banks. One of my friends and colleagues said he had to borrow money to get there, and he had to borrow money to leave.
The gap between the younger faculty members and the older ones was profound. There were about two older faculty members whom we had any respect for--maybe three. They didn't include the president of the college, by the way. The dean was henpecked, but we respected him, otherwise; he was a chemist. And then there was an eminent plant pathologist, Professor Heald. The only reason he was there, as far as we could see, was that he had an abominable temper, and nobody could get along with him. So he stayed. His son became head of Ford Foundation, if I remember correctly. He was quite a distinguished guy, but irascible. And there was a classicist that we were very fond of. Otherwise, they were in entirely different worlds. Oh, there were a few of the younger people that were, you know, on good terms with the people at the top. But when I was there, the faculty consisted mainly of young people who were trapped. This was the bottom, or as the current term has it, "the pits".
Lage
Trapped by economic conditions of the time.
Constance
That's right. I think fifty of us left the year I left, which was three years after I got there. This was just the way it was.
Lage
It was a pretty large school. If there were fifty leaving, it must have been a large faculty.
Constance
I don't know how big it was then. I'd hesitate to guess--maybe ten, twelve thousand students, something of that sort, I suppose. Very isolated; it's. you know, clear off in the south-east corner of the state. A long ways from the flesh pots of Seattle, shall we say.
But, at all events. I wrote this long screed to Setchell, who loved it, and encouraged me to do more of it. And so I used to write him. He said, "Whenever you feel like unloading, go ahead and unload on me. I enjoy it." [laughter] So, I did.
Lage
He must have understood something of what you were going through.
Constance
Oh, yes. So, I told him I was going to get married and come to California. By this time, he was back in California, and he said, "Well, I'm going up to the Bohemian Grove, so you and your wife can have my apartment," which was down on Dwight Way. "Because I realize you probably won't accept this otherwise, I'm sending you the key." So there was the key enclosed with the letter.
Lage
Well, that is very interesting, from the way you described your relationship with him when you were here.
Constance
That's right. Well, we had become very chummy by then. At any rate, we came down and when we got here, we discovered he had his apartment all ready for us. He said, "I would rather enjoy being here with you than going to the Bohemian Grove for the time being." So he rented the apartment across the hall. I don't remember the duration of the Bohemian Club thing, but at any rate, he went to the latter part of it. He insisted on taking us all over the City and so on--a marvelous host.
Of course, this was a bit sticky because I was a student of Jepson's. I didn't see Jepson during the time we were here, but he couldn't help but hear about it. Later, he wrote and said that if we came again, he would want the opportunity to play host, or whatever. But, at any rate, that went along all right.
So we got married; we went back to Pullman. That is the year that Jepson retired. And I had one colleague in the department there that I was very fond of--his name was Harry Clements, a plant physiologist. I regard him as one of the two or three most influential people. really, in my life. He was a wonderful person.
Lage
Was this at Washington?
Constance
Washington State. He got a position at the University of Hawaii in 1937, and so here I was going to be left alone then. But about three months after he got his invitation. I got one from Berkeley.
My wife loves to tell this. I went over and resigned to the dean. The dean regarded me as a sort of young hothead. First, I had seen the chairman. And the chairman said, "Well, now, maybe we could do something about your salary." My salary, as I said, started off at half-time. It was an eleven-month salary at seventy-five dollars a month. At the end of the first year, I applied to the president asking to be relieved of two months of my summer obligation in order to get a job at the Soil Conservation Service so that I would have enough money to come back and teach in the fall--because I had had to borrow money on my insurance policy (I had a small one) to last out the year, even living in boarding houses and so on. I lived in a student boarding house. For seventy-five dollars a month, you know, you were lucky to be eating. And that worked: they doubled my salary. putting me on at full-time.
But, at any rate, I went to the chairman of my department. He was not my favorite character, nor I his, although he disliked me less actively than he did my colleague Clements. We probably shortened his life, I think. But, at all events, he urged me to stay. and my reaction to that was. "Look, if I was worth whatever now, I was worth it six months ago," and what I'm
But at any rate, this was a bright new day. A few days later, my wife said, "By the way, did you accept at Berkeley?" And come to think of it, I hadn't. [laughter] I was too busy resigning at Pullman.
Willis Jepson in Retirement Years
ConstanceThat was the year that everything happened--I was married in 1936 and this job offer came during the spring of 1937. Then I got a letter from Jepson saying that he was coming up to see me, which was sort of incredible. But, at any rate, he drove up. He was a tall, lanky, very serious-looking person. He had bought a maroon-colored roadster--a Buick or something of the sort--on the grounds that-- I can't remember. There was some reason for it, other than mid-life crisis; he was past mid-life. At any rate, he arrived, and he came ostensibly to urge me not to come to Berkeley because Berkeley was a "nest of vipers" and he thought the atmosphere was poisoned.
Lage
He had already retired?
Constance
He had just retired. But he hated practically everybody in the place, with bells. For me, it was a very interesting experience because I had always been rather in awe of him. And yet I realized, in a way, that I was master of the situation, so to speak. So I picked him up and drove him out into the country, and we sat under a pine tree. He poured out fifty years worth of his grievances--real and imagined. I was very patient. And he just went on and on. It was kind of embarrassing, but as I say. I realized that I was the parent and he was the child, so to speak. And when he got all done, I said, "Professor Jepson, I've already accepted the position. I'm sure you'd have wanted me to." I said, "I'm sorry for the disappointments, the frustrations and things that you feel. The people you're talking about, you know, are the ones who are going to be my colleagues. I have enough personality that I'm sure I'll make plenty of enemies of my own. I don't think you'd want me to start my
He stayed on the campus here. I had an office near him. I went out of my way so that if people came through whom I thought he might like to see, I attempted to arrange that. I encouraged at least one couple to stay overnight on the chance that Jepson would see them, and he did. You passed little notes in, which he might or might not respond to. In fact, he might embarrass you by opening the door and appearing in person--you never knew. But, at any rate, he was very nice to us, but it was a kind of hands-off relationship. He was a very difficult person. I never felt really at ease with him. But I feel that, as I said, in some ways I got a good deal from him, although it's hard to say exactly what and how. But the two of them, Setchell and Jepson, really contributed a lot, I think, to my education in ways which are not all that apparent, even to me.
Well, at any rate, we came to Berkeley in fall of 1937, and here we still are.
Lage
That's a good place to pause and start up next time.
Constance
I think so. I probably left out things I should have put in.
IV Addendum on the Early Years
[Interview 2: January 30, 1986]##
Family and Family Life in Oregon
LageWe're going to review just a little bit from last week.
Constance
I wanted to pick up a few points that you asked that perhaps are not of great significance. You asked about my family background. I mentioned that three of my four grandparents were immigrants. My mother's family--the Clifford family--apparently went way back in New England history. Three of her ancestors were apparently volunteers at Bunker Hill, and the story is that one of them lost his pants at Bunker Hill. He lost a bundle of clothing, which may or may not have ever have been reclaimed--I don't know. Presumably, one of the Cliffords was a governor of Massachusetts, another one was U. S. attorney general in the cabinet of the president who I think is generally thought to have been the weakest of all presidents, notably Franklin Pierce. So much for genealogy.
You also asked about family life, religion, politics. social life and so on. My parents were Presbyterians--not very rabid ones. My recollection is that they had attended the Methodist church in Wisconsin, but when one of the ministers asked them to pray for the poor ungodly Presbyterians down the street, they severed their connections and moved over to the Presbyterian Church. Church was not a particularly great factor in my life, although the family, when I was quite young, used to go to town, which was two miles away, to attend church. And, of course, I went to Sunday school and had the various interests that are cultivated for youngsters in that kind of a setting. Later, I think my parents probably stopped going very often, maybe as a matter of health--I'm not quite sure. And then, sometimes, I would go with boys of my age who lived somewhere near me. So. for a series of years, I know I attended the
There was not a tremendous amount of social life. Sometimes my parents would invite people from the church out to the farm. People would like to come out for picnic. And some of their progeny became good friends. At all events, they furnished peer companionship.
Politics would be a little hard to classify, I think. My parents were relatively conservative, but my mother was a bit of a romantic. I remember she voted for Herbert Hoover because she thought he was a great humanitarian. (And, of course, he was after World War I). And I think probably after that, she either voted for Norman Thomas or for one of the Democrats, but I really don't know. I don't remember my father ever really discussing politics, as such.
Lage
It wasn't a highly political family.
Constance
It was not a highly political family, that's right. We were always interested in everything, but I don't recall that we were terribly doctrinaire about much of anything.
You asked about reading. I don't remember particularly. I think I probably read everything that came into the house. I remember I became fascinated by one of those amazing series of, probably, thirty-nine volumes of the motorcycle boys and what. But, I think I read quite indiscriminately most anything.
Lage
There's nothing in particular that you remember that had a big influence?
Constance
Not particularly. I do remember when my mother used to read to me when I was a small child. And I remember, I think, that one day, she completely disrupted me by saying, "Well, today you're going to read to me." Just when that was, I don't know. I can remember that she was ironing at the time, but I couldn't date it.
Lage
Did you read any kind of nature-oriented books?
Constance
Yes. Of course, I had the National Geographic magazine. Then when I got interested in butterflies, I would go to the public library in town and get somebody's book on the moths of the world and somebody else's on the butterflies. Now that was
Eugene was a town of, I believe, about twelve to fifteen thousand at the time. There was one high school and--actually there were two. One developed as an offshoot of the university and was the university high school. It was quite small; I did not attend it. I don't know of any particular reason why I did or didn't, but I didn't.
Lage
They did have a public library?
Constance
Oh, yes, they had a Carnegie library. Every town did. Western Oregon was largely settled by people from the East Coast and the upper Midwest. It was the kind of town in which intellectual affairs were maybe not stressed, but pretty well accepted.
One point I forgot to make was that my parents were members of a grange, and we used to attend meetings there. The thing I remember particularly is the wonderful food they had, which, of course, children enjoyed no end. I think I was barely mature before it occurred to me that you could go to a picnic and not start with the cake, pie, and ice cream, but to eat all of that other stuff instead. It always seemed to be a terrible waste of capacity.
The Graduate Program at Berkeley
ConstanceI think I probably covered adequately my undergraduate education at Oregon, which was basic biology with some remarkable holes in it, so that when I came to Berkeley, there was a lot I didn't know. Fortunately, I realized that to some degree before my professors did. So I did my best to fill in the notable gaps.
I think I said before I was not too happy in the first two years. I didn't have any very clear goal. It's true that I was interested in biology, and more in botany perhaps than other kinds. There was nothing like dissecting a pickled shark on a hot day to convince a biologist that plants are more attractive than animals. And I responded to that.
Lage
So when you came here you weren't necessarily set in botany.
Constance
I came as a graduate student in botany--as a teaching assistant in botany--so it was expected that I would go on in botany. It would have always been possible, I'm sure, to change if I'd really wanted to, but I'm not sure that I ever wanted to.
It was a period of considerable economic stress. I didn't eat very lavishly, and I remember I managed to eat on fifty cents a day. which wouldn't be possible now.
Lage
Did you find your fellow students were in somewhat the same circumstance?
Constance
I suspect so. There were not very many of them. Several were married. One or more of them lived in the same kinds of boarding houses that I did--sometimes the same ones. We lived on our teaching assistantships, without any doubt.
Lage
How many women were in the graduate program, and how many graduate students in the program?
Constance
It was a small program, no doubt about that. I don't know that I can really tell, but I would say there were about as many women as men. Botany has traditionally been a field that was accessible to women. Many of the early writers felt that it was particularly appropriate for women because of the delicacy of plants versus animals.
I'm not sure I could give any real idea of the number of graduate students. I can tell something about those who emerged with their doctoral degrees, but there were quite a number of women who didn't. They took master's degrees and went into teaching, or they got married and didn't go on with it or didn't go on with it for a number of years. I think it's fair to say that there was always a sizable number of women. But on the whole, it was a very small program. I don't suppose there were more than ten to a dozen graduate students at most at any one time.
There were several additional people associated with the botanical garden or the herbarium. Of course, there were not very many grants in those days--extramural grants. Professor [T. Harper] Goodspeed was something of a genius and ahead of his time in obtaining grants. He got money from the Rockefellers and various other places, and he always had several assistants working for him, one way or another. The interesting thing is that, at the time, I think the general feeling was that this sort of group approach really wasn't quite ethical, that you should be doing your own work.
Lage
For him to have assistants doing the spade work?
Constance
That's right. It had not really taken in the field of botany, at least. I think it probably did rather early in medical research. But the whole idea of these mass approaches which are so popular now just was not heard of. You look at an article in Science now--if there aren't six authors. it's amazing. In those balmy days people used to wonder if it really were quite right to have a co-author. So it was a very different sort of picture.
Looking at Photographs from the Pullman Period
ConstanceI think we may have covered the whole of Washington State enterprise. I have a--
Lage
You're looking at photo albums. very well-organized and labeled. Is this from Washington State?
Constance
This is from Washington State. It was a fairly good learning experience. I took a half-time job to teach three courses and run the herbarium at seventy-five dollars a month. I lived in a student boarding house.
Lage
You didn't have the status one associates with a professor.
Constance
In a way. All professors were automatically called "Doc." That was the way they were designated. And we had very close relationships with the undergraduates and relatively few graduate students. Probably as young faculty members, we had much better relationships than some of the older ones did. I still hear from a few. There are three or four people who write to me still who always address me as "Doc," which I find rather amusing.
Lage
You gave me the piece on Reed Rollins. which was very interesting.
Constance
Yes. Here's the picture of him in 1936.
Lage
It sounds as if you made a lot of collecting trips with him.
Constance
That's right. I was in charge of the herbarium. It didn't carry a special stipend or title, but somebody had to do it, and I liked it. I had a National Youth Administration grant. Grants were made to the college, and I managed to get one of those and had several people working for me.
Lage
Was Machlis a student of yours?
Constance
No, he was a plant physiologist. He was a protege of mine, but not a student. We used to take the students on field trips which usually combined--on their part at least--squirrel shooting with investigating the biota.
Lage
Your album has maps of where you went? [looking at photographs]
Constance
Oh. yes. I remember particularly a trip to the Blue Mountains, an isolated range in northeastern Oregon, and perhaps even more interesting, the Wallow a Mountains, which represent a little sort of pocket range--a piece of the Rocky Mountains in terms of the biota.
I went into the Wallow as for a week's trip accompanied by one economics professor and one mule. The economics professor was considerably more tractable than the mule, but it was a very interesting experience.
Lage
Was he just going for the fun of it?
Constance
He just went for the fun of it; it was something to do. Some of this country was extremely remote. There was the town of Imnaha, Oregon. It's off the Snake River; the Imnaha River flows into the Snake.
Lage
Had you done any of that kind of thing as a young boy--or with your family? Any kind of wilderness trip?
Constance
Oh, not quite the same. The scale of the country here was much grander, less civilized and so on. But I was always used to being out in the woods. Some of the country in adjacent Idaho and Washington was fairly spectacular--some of this volcanic country. waterfalls. We used to go particularly into northern Idaho because the country around Pullman was not forested, excepting the canyons around a few rocky hills (Steptoes). This is Rollins again. [indicating on photo].
Lage
Would the promise of someone like Rollins have been apparent to you at the time?
Constance
It was to me. Yes. there never was any doubt about it.
One of the routes we were interested in following was that of Lewis and Clark, who traversed the country from Montana westward. They came down the Clearwater River and had camps at specific places. and we tried to find the same places. and indeed, if we could, tried to find the same plants they had collected.
Lage
So they did a considerable amount of collecting?
Constance
Yes.
Lage
And where are those collections?
Constance
Their official collections went to Philadelphia Academy, but a good share of them went to the British Museum. So now if you want to see plants collected by Lewis and Clark, Philadephia thinks they have them, but the British Museum usually does. It was beautiful country--very wild country. We found plants that were extremely interesting. One of them was actually named for me: Cardamine constancei, named for me by a botanist at Stanford to whom I sent material. You see, it was rugged, beautiful country. I would hate to go back to it now because I'm sure it's so changed that it would no longer be attractive.
One of the things we used to do was to take a group of students of botany, forestry or whatever, and spend five or six days going up the Snake River, through the deepest part--so called Hell's Canyon--and camp without shelters except tents. The first year I see that my colleague, Harry Clements, was in charge and I was the co-organizer. The following year the clipping says: "Dr. Constance will direct the Snake River excursion."
There were some interesting characters. One little motor boat could take the whole group, excepting where the rapids were too shallow. It was a fast-moving stream. The Snake really runs between the Wallow a range on one side--on the Oregon side-- and the Seven Devils range on the Idaho side, so the river is constricted into a very narrow zone. We used to say it took one day to get up the stream and about fifteen minutes to come down. It was breathtaking, there's no doubt.
Lage
And you traveled up it by motorboat?
Constance
That's right.
Lage
They do that now, to a degree.
Constance
But. of course, they have flooded it to some extent. I don't know how much--I haven't been back in years.
Lage
I took a raft trip there. There are some jet boats, which are considered to be intruding on the wilderness, that try to go up it.
Constance
Well, that was the only way of negotiating it at that time. There were several families who had their ranches on the Snake River and also on the Imnaha and some of the other tributaries. Then there were only two ways of getting there: one was up the river and the other was to come in by pack train over the wall of the mile-deep canyon. And in real emergencies, they sometimes flew in and flew somebody out--someone stepped on by a horse, or something.
[indicating on photograph] This was one of the boats that we were on and these are "bucking" the rapids. And every so often. when it became particularly shallow and the water particularly fierce, we all had to get out and walk around. One of the places that we got out and walked around was a river bar and on that we found a spectacular purplish-red flowered plant which was identifiable as a "four o'clock". Actually, the boat captain had told us about it. Rollins and I investigated it and discovered that, indeed, it was something that had not gotten in the literature. So we described it and named it; we named it after the captain--but that's the story of Mirabilis macfarlanei.
Lage
Was he knowledgeable about the plants?
Constance
He was knowledgeable about the plants to an extent. Eight years before I got to Washington State, the botanist there was Harold St. John. who has been at the University of Hawaii for many years. St. John had apparently told him what some of the things were, and he had remembered. We didn't know that St. John had actually collected this thing. When St. John left Washington State for Hawaii, he took everything away that he thought might be of any interest. Occasionally, we'd run across some scrap of paper, and we saw a note to the effect that there were several things in the canyon that were interesting, which he was going to do something about someday. One of them was a cactus, and one was a member of the same family that the "four o'clock" belonged to. But it was so wildly remote from the genus, Mirabilis, it never occurred to us, frankly, that it could be the same thing. He had it grossly misplaced.
Constance
I also was responsible for the naming of a phlox with Dr. Wherry at the University of Pennsylvania who asked me to collect material of it, which I did--growing in a clump of prickly pear. He published it in our names. I don't think it had a great deal going for it, but it was very interesting to be involved in such a thing.
[indicating on photograph again] This was the other way of getting in--the pack train--going up the side of the canyon. But those boat trips up the Snake River were certainly one of the most interesting phenomena. While I was at Pullman, in one way or another I spent as much time as I could trying to learn the flora and to see what the country was like. I remember an incident in one of the years--this one was 1935--in which we got thoroughly snowed-on when we were in camp. There was nothing you could do; you were just snowed-on.
Lage
What time of year would that have been?
Constance
It probably was about April. I remember that I burned the soles off my boots trying to get my feet warm, and Rollings got a horrible case of poison oak.
I took my wife on a trip in 1937--we were married in 1936-- and this was essentially her first outdoor experience. I wouldn't say it was the last, but she was not as happy about it as she might have been. I suppose it really didn't occur to me how much of a shock it would be for her because it was completely foreign to her whole experience. I remember we landed on this river bar. I was in charge of the whole excursion and was responsible for trying to get things set up. And what happened was that I got things set up, but I didn't do anything for us. She was stuck with the job of trying to put up the tent, which she had never done, and it was a fairly grim initiation for her. But it was fascinating country; she appreciated the country but her tradition was not a--
Lage
She was more of a city girl?
Constance
That's right. She was not an out-of-doors type.
Lage
Now, did that continue? Did she not take part in your various collecting trips?
Constance
She went with me most of the time, excepting when I went some distance off the road. But we did everything together, essentially.
From time to time, somebody would visit Pullman. and that was such a rarity and such an exciting thing that it was great fun. One of the visitors I remember particularly was the late
[indicating another photograph] This was Harold St. John, who paid a visit to Pullman when I was there; he is now in his nineties.
Conservative Administration at Washington State
ConstanceI think I did tell you that when we were at Pullman there was a student revolt, which I suppose was a sort of preeducation for Berkeley. I have a flyer of their demands which included [reading from flyer]: "More student than faculty control, a progressive clean-minded administration, new closing hours--eleven o'clock week nights and one o'clock weekend nights--"
Lage
That's pretty radical.
Constance
"College and social rules should be published. no compulsory class attendance, Wednesday night mixers and desserts, abolition of Dean Annie's suggested picnic and social rulings. abolition of ultraconservative dictatorial administrative policies." Signed, the Students Liberty Association.
Lage
Can you elaborate on any of those?
Constance
My recollection is that students couldn't carry a blanket if they went on picnics. And I don't really remember quite what else. But restrictions were, by and large, fairly heavy-handed Victorian rules. Pullman was a very conservative town. It had more churches than most anything else. The people were basically fairly solid midwest Protestants. My own chairman was, I think, a deacon. I forget whether the Methodist church has deacons or not. If they do, he was one.
##
Constance
He was also dean of the graduate division. The thing that was particularly startling to me as a biologist was that he didn't believe in evolution.
Lage
This was the head of your department?
Constance
The head of the department, and also the dean of the graduate division. We had some sort of a departmental seminar--all departments seem to have seminars--and some student was reporting. I couldn't tell you what he was reporting about, but it had something to do with evolution. The student said something--some reference to evolution--and everybody said, "Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh." Well, I didn't get the message, and I climbed down the student's neck and--
Lage
Now, why did you climb down the student's neck?
Constance
For pooh-poohing the idea of evolution. He made some nasty remark about it and all the other kids laughed; obviously, evolution was something you sneered at. My recollection is that the chairman of the department didn't return to any of the seminars thereafter.
Lage
Did he make any comment to you?
Constance
He never said anything, not to me, no.
[indicating a clipping in the photo book] This was a little item. One of the English professors was fired for writing a book that had been reported to be racy. [reading] It said, "Dr. Samuel M. Steward returned home here today"--this is Columbus, Ohio--"and said his removal from the English department of Washington State College resulted from `rumors' that he had written a racy novel. Dr. Steward, who was dismissed by President Helland, also said that he had been accused of taking part in a student strike. `Four hours after the president delivered his commencement address extolling the virtues of liberty and free speech,' Dr. Steward said, `he summarily dismissed me for exercising a little academic freedom and told me that my going was but the forerunner of six or eight more to go.' "
Lage
Do you remember that incident?
Constance
Oh, yes, I knew him. He wrote a book called--I think it was Angels on the Bough. I don't think I ever read it. I don't know how risque it was--by modern standards, not very. But I think it does suggest that it was a fairly tight little community. and that there was a very strict dichotomy between the older people and the younger people. I think I've said this before: there were about two members of the faculty the younger people respected, and very few of the deans and the president were included in that small group.
Incidentally, here I have committee notes and reports. This is the Committee on Academic Freedom and Tenure reporting on the Steward case at Washington State College. [reads some of
Lage
It was a big controversy, then. among the faculty.
Constance
This was a committee of the national group, the American Association of University Professors. It was interesting because when faculty members are not rehired, they are supposed to be given some kind of adequate warning. Steward was fired after commencement.
One of the regulations reads as follows: "In case it is necessary to notify a member of the faculty he must sever his connection with this institution. the Board of Regents is authorized that this notice be given ordinarily not later than April 15, and with very few exceptions, not later than commencement day."
Lage
So does that tell us something about the tone of the school that you were portraying last time?
Constance
Yes. I think it tells you a good deal about it.
Lage
That and the head of the graduate division not believing in evolution.
Constance
That's right. It's come a long, long way since then.
In spring of 1937, I was invited to come to Berkeley. One of the last things I did from Pullman was to go to the one-hundredth meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science at Denver. I drove with my colleague Clements all the way to Denver and back. These were various things along the way. [indicating on photographs] This was Harry Clements, my colleague who went to Hawaii, and this was Leonard Machlis. who was a student and who later was chairman of Botany here. We were at Denver. Rollins, who had been at Harvard, came out, and we spent a day together in Rocky Mountain Park. These are pictures on the way back home. This was another trip when they were building Grand Coulee Dam in central Washington.
Lage
Did you do any collecting, in that instance, to get something that might be destroyed by the dam?
Constance
No, we didn't. It was done later from Washington State, actually, after we had left.
Constance
This was more collecting in Idaho. My wife was with me, and we met the Pennells from Philadelphia and camped. They were trying to follow Lewis and Clark's trail, and we got them up into some fairly weird, wonderful country.
This is our last day in Pullman. We lived in an apartment house which was familiarly known as "the slum." This is my friend Harry Clements and his wife. She just died in Hawaii, recently. Ashley Weeks is a sociologist and Paul Fendrick was a psychologist. They were among our closest friends. Sally had her own opportunities to assert her independence, too. She got the idea of painting the walls of our apartment blue-green. Nobody in Pullman had had anything but beige-colored walls in the memory of man. and this really created quite a sensation.
Lage
With the landlord?
Constance
No, the landlord apparently didn't give a damn. But just within the community--"Do you like Sally's walls?" They were horrible. according to some of the more conservative residents.
One person who's not shown was a women's physical education instructor who was interested in dance and a disciple of Martha Graham. After we got to Berkeley she wrote Sally that she had painted her walls "Australian prune"!
This, I think, gives you a fair idea of my thoughts about it. As we left Pullman, I looked back and took a picture and I said, "A rousing Bronx cheer for you. Smug little cow college."
Lage
[laughing] It sounds like you were quite happy to be coming to Berkeley.
Constance
That's right. And that's a picture of Harry Clements and me.
Lage
Although you had a number of good friends, it seems.
Constance
We always had good friends.
Lage
All in the same boat.
Constance
Yes, that's right. Well, of course, that makes, I think, for long friendships. Mutual adversity is a very, very strong bond.
Lage
How about your wife--was she glad to be leaving?
Constance
Yes.
V Botany at Berkeley: The Prewar Years
The Department following Setchell's Retirement
##
LageLet's review the situation in the Department of Botany at Berkeley during the prewar period.
Constance
I officially joined the department in 1937. Setchell--the forty-year chairman--had retired at the end of June 1934 (the same time I received my doctorate and left for Pullman.) Jepson retired in 1937, and that gave the occasion for my return.
Lage
You more or less replaced Jepson?
Constance
I was more or less a replacement for Jepson. Actually, when Setchell retired, the question of departmental chairmanship came up. The logical person to assume the chair was probably Goodspeed. Goodspeed was quite ambitious. As I've indicated before, he was a genius at getting together a group of assistants in some sort of a combined research activity. which some felt was really not quite proper--a little ahead of its time, at any rate. And he had apparently lobbied very hard to be chairman. Why anybody wanted to be chairman still remains a mystery to me.
Lage
Who would pick the chairman?
Constance
The chairman was probably at that time picked by President Sproul himself, probably on the nomination of the dean--though I'm not sure about that--probably after some polling of the wishes of the faculty. I know what it was like later; I'm not entirely sure of what it was like then, but I expect that that would be the way it would go. At all events, Goodspeed had lined up some very strong support among the Regents but had apparently antagonized others as well. There undoubtedly was a faculty committee at work on the problem, because Sproul was very good about using faculty committees.
Just about this time, Dennis Hoagland--who was in charge of the laboratory of plant nutrition and was a very fine scholar noted for his work on essential elements in plant growth--was elected to the National Academy of Sciences. I assume, without really knowing it, that the committee may have been deadlocked or at least had varying opinions. But here, all of a sudden. was a botanist--at least a plant physiologist--who received one of the highest accolades and was a natural alternative candidate. Jepson would probably have been about the world's worst chairman. but he hated Goodspeed and probably would have accepted it rather than see Goodspeed get it. It would have been courteous to offer it to Jepson. but they didn't dare because he might have accepted it to keep Goodspeed from getting it. [laughter] So the Hoagland solution was really ideal except for Hoagland, who, I think, hated all administration with a great passion.
What happened was that--again. I assume as the result of the advice of the committee, they took plant nutrition and part of plant pathology and some other elements from the College of Agriculture and merged them with botany to give botany a broader, and. to some extent, a more experimental base.
Lage
Now who would have determined that? Would this have been Hoagland's idea, or was this something Sproul had in mind?
Constance
I don't know. I suspect it would be a natural outcome of such an investigation at that time. Plant physiology, which is a key sub-unit of any study of plant life, was very weak in the department--so much so that the teaching of it had gone pretty largely over to Agriculture. There was always some feeling that Agriculture was trying to muscle in on plant science and some feeling in Agriculture, certainly, that they didn't like the way some of plant science was taught in the botany department.
##
Constance
So there was always a certain amount of border warfare. Agriculture, after all, had the weight of the agricultural community behind it. And botany really didn't have any influential constituents when you come right down to it. Botany is always at a disadvantage. Nowadays, there are very few botany departments; most plant study, excepting in agricultural schools, is under biology. In biology departments, botany is usually the runtiest pig in the litter. Zoologists tend to look at plants as one more phylum of animals and not necessarily the most important one. So the botanists are almost always in a minority, both in number and influence.
I remember serving on a committee at Cornell, having to do with the reorganization of their botany and biology because botany there was in the College of Arts and Sciences, which is the private institution, whereas most of plant science was in the agricultural part, which is the state College of Agriculture. They were trying to put them together. I remember getting a telephone call from one of the vice-presidents we had met with saying, "We're having trouble with our botanists. Can you explain it to me?" I said, "Sure, very simple. If people were plants, you'd be having trouble with your zoologists." [laughter] So there was always a little bit of that. Some of my younger colleagues who were my cologists--students of fungi--felt that the plant pathologists in the College of Agriculture, were trying to overwhelm them and steal their stuff. Physiologists felt rather similarly.
But at any rate, Alva R. Davis. who had a real flair for administration, succeeded Hoagland after a couple years. Again it's a guess. but my guess is that the committee originally wanted to appoint Davis, but that they ran into the Goodspeed business; as a result. they put in Hoagland to serve in transition. He served around two years, and then Davis became chairman. Davis was chairman by the time I got here in 1937. He was an outstanding chairman. He was not only my predecessor as chairman of the department, but as dean of Letters and Science and also as vice-chancellor. And I have a world of affection and admiration for him. He certainly is the person who got me involved in university affairs.
The interesting thing is that he was not very happy with my performance, at least above the departmental level, because I insisted on continuing to teach and do research. He felt this to be a denigration of the administrative job. He, himself, gave up his professional field when he went into administration. Then, of course, when he retired from it, he was lost. I had seen that happen to so many people that it was a trap I was not about to walk into if I could help it.
Well, what happened was that a number of people were brought into the department from plant pathology, plant nutrition. and I believe a few others. Most of them ultimately returned to the place whence they came; a few others stayed.
When I came, I was put in charge on very short notice-- right in the first semester--of general botany.
Lage
That must have been an introductory botany course.
Constance
That's right. Someone had decided that every laboratory section should have a faculty member in charge of it. These people who were transferred in from Agriculture, who would have had a
But I remember one man, a plant pathologist who was still there. I knew him; I liked him very much. But I finally went to the head of the department and said, "Look, he's miserable, and he really isn't doing anything for us. Why don't you let him out of it?" So they did. And that was pretty much the end of the amalgamation, I think, excepting that Davis remained as chairman. and Howard Reed stayed until his retirement.
In one way or another, there was a broadening of the attitudes of the department. Several of the people who had been professors when I was a student were now retiring. So it was basically a new department, and Davis set out to build a department with real morale. He was very successful; he built a really distinguished one.
Lage
He was good at attracting faculty?
Constance
Not only that--he was good at developing high morale in the faculty that were here.
Goodspeed essentially went his own way. Davis once said that he never gave him any trouble. He had the botanical garden, and he went his own way and never came to departmental meetings or things of that sort, so that was not a problem. So there was just a small group of us. and we got along very, very well.
Lage
Were you all of a mind about what direction botany should take?
Constance
Well, I don't think there were any particular doctrinal struggles. We did our best in our own areas. and we accepted what our colleagues did in theirs. When our activities touched upon each other, we cooperated. We used to have joint projects from time to time, some of which I will mention later. Mostly we did our own jobs. and we were on excellent terms with each other. We saw each other socially, to some extent--you know, some more than others--depending partly upon age and where we lived and so on. But it was a very harmonious time. In my first years, up until, certainly, the time I went to Washington, I lived essentially within my department.
I think I went to a faculty meeting very soon after I came here. President Sproul got up and said something and some faculty member popped up and jumped down his throat. Sproul very benignly heard him out, deferred to him, and so on. The
I remember that fairly early Davis said once, "I think you and [Ralph] Emerson ought to get involved in university affairs." I told him, "I don't think we're ready to. I don't think we really know enough." And I think that was probably right. So we really didn't. We were working in our own vineyards, to be trite. I was active in the herbarium and in teaching elementary botany.
I worked closely with my senior colleague, Herbert Mason. The way things were set up, he had the graduate students unless they expressly insisted on working with me. I didn't pay any attention to who were his graduate students and who were mine. He tended to give his students a sort of hands-off treatment, and they'd come to me and I'd try to work things through with them and with him. It was all very harmonious.
Lage
So you worked with some students that were officially his.
Constance
That's right. I mentioned Morrison, who had been a student of Jepson's, and was now a student of Mason's. We went on extensive field trips together; we were nearly the same age.
Lage
Did you enter in more with your students because of your reaction to your own treatment--not just at Pullman. but when you were a graduate student here? Or was it your youth?
Constance
I just don't know. I didn't have any scars. I was happy to be here. Once I got to Berkeley, it would never have occurred to me to leave.
One thing that's interesting--this came up years later--that I hadn't known about, was that one of the members of the Academic Senate budget committee told me that he had run across a document that showed that somebody--either the provost or the president or whomever--had recommended during World War II that for economic reason a particular age group of faculty be let go. It was my group--right across the board! It included at least one Nobel laureate and maybe a couple. Apparently, the budget committee talked the president out of doing this and suggested he give them war leave instead.
Lage
You mean. let them go so they could--?
Constance
Let them go so they wouldn't be a drag on the University. You know. the University was under straitened circumstances during the war, so you would just fire them.
Lage
That course would have had quite an effect on the University. I wonder how seriously that was entertained.
Constance
I don't know. It could have been disastrous because immediately after the war we had this fantastic flood of students, and the University staffed very, very rapidly. It made some mistakes in doing it. but on the whole it did pretty well.
Setchell and Jepson at Odds
LageYou told me before something about the division between Jepson and Setchell and how it came out in doctoral exams. I wonder if you would want to tell something about that.
Constance
I don't think. as far as I know. that either of them ever used the opportunity to attack each other through the students. If you remember in George R. Stewart's Doctor's Oral--do you know that?
Lage
I haven't read it.
Constance
Well, it is a story about a graduate student who is the victim of warring professors. The thing is, we knew perfectly well that Jepson's ideas and Setchell's ideas were somewhat different. And it was even more tricky; I had Goodspeed and [Ernest B.] Babcock on one or another of my committees with Jepson. Goodspeed and Jepson were not on speaking terms. [Richard M.] Holman was on one of them, and he was on speaking terms with scarcely anybody by that time. And there you were: if you were asked a question. how were you to answer it? You knew that if you said one thing, you would offend Jepson. If you answered it to please him, you might offend the people in genetics. So it required agile tightrope walking.
Lage
What kinds of things were the disagreements over? These weren't just personal things, they were--
Constance
No, they had to do. to some extent, with the fact that taxonomy--the classification of plants--was at the stage of depending upon a wider range of characters than previously, such things as
I mentioned that one of my friends was Reid Brooks, who was a graduate student with Goodspeed. I took a course in cytology from Goodspeed here, but he didn't teach us anything I really wanted to know. He didn't teach us methods we could apply taxonomically, which is what I would have liked. We were given prepared slides, and we looked at these endlessly. That was fine, but it didn't really turn into something we could use. I was working on the taxonomy of a group of plants. I had heard about polyploidy. which is the addition and multiplication of chromosomes--hence genetic material--and I wanted to investigate it. So through Reid and others. I actually learned how to make root-tip smears and counted a few of these things. But I didn't dare tell Jepson that I had done it. Now, he might not have minded--I don't know. But the general supposition was that he'd probably throw you out on your ear if you got into things of this sort.
I remember after one of the oral exams. I felt I had done wretchedly. I ran into Babcock and Goodspeed, who congratulated me on having passed. Goodspeed said, "I think it's wonderful the way you pulled the wool over Jepson's eyes." Then a little later I ran into Jepson when I was back in my office. Jepson tapped on my door and came in beaming, congratulated me, and said it was wonderful the way I had taken care of Goodspeed and Babcock. [laughing]
Lage
You must have had a way--
Constance
I must have had a rabbit's foot in my pocket. But they were all very good to me.
Lage
What about Setchell in that kind of controversy? Was he more receptive to new ideas?
Constance
Setchell was a "big-picture" man. He was interested in world distributions, and formation of coral atolls, and all sorts of things. He was a very stimulating teacher in that respect. He made you think; he knew what had been written about this or that. A Scotsman came out with a three-part book on the evolution of ferns. Setchell promptly taught a course on it. He had done a lot of traveling in the South Pacific, and he had pictures and materials. He was extraordinarily stimulating. Jepson, you see, we didn't have much contact with. He was a remote figure, and we were in awe of him and had a great deal of admiration for him.
Lage
He was more of a narrow-focused--?
Constance
Yes, he was a native son who was interested in the flora of California. He thought it was his God-given preserve, and it was a time when just to know what was here was the first order of the day, so to speak. So it was appropriate to the time. It wasn't so much that Setchell and Jepson were opposed on some thecry, doctrine, or anything of that sort--it's simply that, for one thing, Setchell was working on marine algae and seaweeds and Jepson was working on the land flora. Setchell had broad ideas--he was interested in the relations of temperature to the flowering of plants, "waves of anthesis", for example. But mostly they didn't cross each other in respect to science. But, as I say, I never had the least trouble with either of them; they were very nice to me. There were not very many up-and-coming graduate students in the department, so the attention wasn't too surprising. David Goddard was one of the most distinguished graduate students we've had; he was on good terms with both of them, too. So. I don't think that their rivalry was a very major barrier for graduate students.
Entries from Field Notebook. 1937-1942
[Interview 3: February 13, 1986] ##
LageWe've covered a lot of personal background in the last two interviews: early life, early career as a botanist. You tell me that you've reviewed some things and have some additional remarks. so you begin.
Constance
I went back and tried to trace the actual places and dates from the time of leaving Washington State College at Pullman in August of 1937 down through my early years at Berkeley. I see that we did, indeed, leave Pullman in August 1937 and drove to Berkeley. stopping to see my wife's and my families in Portland and Eugene.
In September, we saw my former associate Harry Clements off to Hawaii, and another associate, Edward Ullman, returned to Harvard to complete graduate work in geography. I find no other entries until December, when we went north to Portland and Eugene for Christmas with our families.
Lage
Let me ask you what you mean by "entries."
Constance
These were entries in my field notebook. Botanists who collect customarily keep a running list of the things they collect and the conditions under which they collect them--localities and other data.
In 1938 I remember particularly being guests of Professor Alva R. Davis, who was botany department chairman, at the Sierra Ski Lodge. My idea, I'm afraid. of skiing was sitting by the fireplace having something to warm you internally while other people were out on or in the snow.
In 1938 I made an extensive tour of northern California during the spring and summer--mostly by myself, partly in company with Robert Hoover who was later a botanist with California Polytechnic at San Luis Obispo.
Lage
Was he a student?
Constance
He was one of Jepson's last students that I actually had not met. He took his doctorate here after an undergraduate career at Stanford.
Professor Goodspeed. from his base in the botanical garden, launched a series of botanical garden expeditions to the Andes. The second one was just going off when I arrived; he invited me to go but, obviously, when I was just joining the faculty I was not in any position to take off for strange parts--so I didn't.
Lage
Did that expedition have a particular focus? You've mentioned Goodspeed studying tobacco.
Constance
Yes, that's right. Most of the tobaccos are native to the Andes. That was the prime reason for going, and since he was going, I guess people collected other things, which were accumulated in the herbarium. I'm sure that that model intrigued me to some extent; South America looked very interesting. So, of course, in time I followed it up.
Just to give an idea of the scope of my field work, this is the list of counties I recorded: Alameda, Napa, Yolo, Santa Clara, Monterey, San Benito, San Luis Obispo, Kings County, Kern County, Fresno, Tulare, San Bernardino, Kern, Tulare, Mariposa, Napa, Lake, Sonoma, Colusa. And then with Morrison, in Calaveras, Amador, El Dorado, Placer, Nevada, Butte, Tehama, Glenn. and Contra Costa, all in April. In May, Stanislaus, Tuolomne, Madera, Fresno, San Benito, Alameda, San Francisco County. San Mateo, San Benito. Then with Morrison, again, in the latter part of May for three days in San Benito in the Idriaserpentine region where we climbed all of the larger eminences--Santa Rita Peak, and others.
Lage
Is this for the climbing of mountains, or the finding of flowers?
Constance
No, I never climb mountains just to be climbing. My interest runs out as soon as the plants do. We were attempting to retrace the route of William Brewer, who was one of the prime geologists and also plant collectors in California in connection with the California Geological Survey of the 1860s.
Lage
Were you comparing what he found with what was still there?
Constance
We were trying to find the places that he had collected things so as to better reidentify the material. He got into this really fantastic serpentine area in San Benito County and that's why we were pursuing it.
In June, I was in Placer County, Nevada County, Yuba, Sierra, Plumas, Lassen, Madera. In August, in Tuolumne, Mono, Inyo. Mono, and Alpine. In most of these, my wife was my companion and also my recording secretary. She had to put up with a good deal in the way of the general inconveniences of field work.
In December of 1938, we and my wife's mother and sister spent the holidays in Victoria, British Columbia.
In 1939, I did considerably less field work. What usually happened was that I did field work one summer and the next summer I taught summer school to pay for it. So my field work was alternately very considerable and rather slight.
Lage
You mentioned Morrison--have we identified Morrison?
Constance
Morrison was another of the graduate students who was here when I came back. He started working with Jepson and finished his work with Mason and spent his subsequent career teaching at Syracuse University.
Lage
And what was his first name?
Constance
John L. Morrison, he's now retired to Occidental, California. He was very influential in sending graduate students to the department over the years, a number of them received their inspiration from him, although he did very little research himself. He apparently was a very successful teacher and inspirer of young people who, indeed, might go on.
In 1939, a few events that I can document were the departure of one of the University of California Botanical Garden's expeditions to the Andes, of which Morrison was a member, by the way. In May, I did field work in El Dorado,
Lage
Did you have a specific purpose in all this field work, or was it just learning about the flora of the area?
Constance
It was a combination of both. I would say that in my first two years at Berkeley I worked full-time at becoming a botanist, at trying to learn the flora, and learn as much about California as I could. I published, I went to scientific meetings. Those were the main activities.
I was also starting to do research on the family Hydrophyllaceae, on which I worked for a number of years and on which I became, to some extent I suppose, an authority.
In May, I was in Merced County, and also in Alameda County and was beginning to get interested in a polyploid complex in the genus Phacelia, which became the subject of considerable interest and field work for some years.
In June, with my first Ph.D. graduate student at Berkeley, Alan Beetle, I did field work in the coastal counties of Mendocino and Humboldt. In Eureka, we met with Joseph P. Tracy, who was a particularly excellent regional botanist. Later I embarked on a six-week trip to the Pacific Northwest with my wife and Alan Beetle. We traveled up the Oregon coast to Portland. east along the Columbia River, where we revisited Pullman and saw some of our friends there. We went on into Idaho. We worked in the field by ourselves or picked up such local botanists as LeRoy Detling in Oregon and Marion Ownbey at Pullman.
Lage
Were these local, amateur botanists?
Constance
No, they were professionals. Detling was the botanist at Eugene, and Marion Ownbey was one of my successors at Washington State. (The herbarium there is now named for him.)
Then we went on, in June, to the meetings of the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences in Seattle. In Tacoma I picked up Louis F. Henderson (who had been my first guide into systematic botany, really) and had the pleasure of
Lage
When you say you're studying a large family like this, is there a particular point you're trying to get out of it?
Constance
Yes, in theory you're trying to understand better the representation, distribution. and diversification-- physiologically, ecologically, structurally, and perhaps, reproductively--and to learn as much as you can about it, to try to organize it more efficiently than it's ever been organized before. Hopefully, as each family or other group is studied more and more intensively from various points of view, you hope that you will put together something that can be used as a kind of building block in attempting to understand better the whole evolutionary picture.
I selected the family Hydrophyllaceae, specifically, when I returned to Berkeley because I wanted to work on a group that was well-represented in the area so I could study it in the field, and one that was small enough that you weren't always frustrated by the fact that some of its key representatives were in Asia or elsewhere. This turned out to be a happy selection.
Cytological Investigations with Marion Cave:
Developing Additional Information for Taxonomists
Constance
At the same time, I wanted to try to use cytological information. So I began a survey--really a chromosome number survey with Marion Cave. Marion Cave was a cytologist who had various connections from time to time with the University of California Botanical Garden. Although she was really an expert in three different fields, she never had a formal university appointment.
Lage
Is there a reason for that?
Constance
Probably for the reason you would suspect. For one, her husband was a professor of economics at San Francisco State, and the idea that there should be a woman faculty member in the department simply had not yet arrived. She was an expert cytologist, embryologist of the lilies, an expert on fresh-water algae and also on Hydrophyllaceae. We published together over a series of years and eventually I summed the work up. [looking at some papers] In 1950, we published a paper on chromosome numbers in
Lage
How was the work divided?
Constance
Well, the project was my idea. I did the identifications, I collected material; she counted the chromosomes and made camera lucida drawings; I wrote the papers.
Lage
Now, when you would write the papers, would she review them, or was there mutual input?
Constance
She certainly reviewed the specifics of the proper stage of cell division, but I was responsible for the identification and any interpretations; in other words, she said, "You write the papers." So from my standpoint, it was a very happy relationship, and I think she was happy with it, too.
A few of my colleagues looked a little askance at the fact that I was junior author; but, as I may have said before, I found that being junior author was a very fine position to be in because the people who knew nothing about it assumed that you probably did all the work.
I think that in all the joint authorships in which I have been involved that there usually was a pretty fair division of labor.
Lage
Did you and Marion ever discuss women in botany at the University?
Constance
Not really, although I knew she felt strongly about it, understandably.
Lage
What did it have to do with her husband being a professor in economics at San Francisco?
Constance
Nothing, particularly, except the general assumption was that since she had a husband with a good job--why did she need one too? After all, the department gave her a place to work. I'm sure you've heard some of this before. It wasn't very overt, but it probably was rather characteristic of masculine thinking of the time, I suppose.
At all events, that was what I was working on mostly. I started really with the genus Nemophila--the baby blue-eyes, which most people know by the common name, and moved on to other genera, and eventually got into the Phacelia, which is the major
Lage
Was using the cytological information something new at Berkeley or overall?
Constance
This topic, I suppose, is possibly of general interest. Cytology is a pretty broad field, and today's cytologists would scarcely think of this as cytology. But the fact that plants have different chromosome numbers really turned up in the tens and twenties of the twentieth century. It wasn't until about 1930 that there was any real attempt to put classification and chromosome number together. One of the pioneers in it was actually Professor Goodspeed in his work with Nicotiana, and Edgar Anderson at the Missouri Botanical Garden was very much interested in it. But most taxonomists and most cytologists went their own ways and were largely isolated from each other. The early cytologists who were interested in chromosome number would go out into the botanical garden and look at the labels on the plants, from which they took materials. If they got a chromosome count, they would report it without any real documentation. And since material in botanical gardens is notoriously unreliably identified, a lot of the counts could not be verified--some of them are clearly wrong. So actually, all of those before about 1930 are suspect.
Some interesting things were found: the discovery that some plants carried a double set of chromosomes (which indicated that they were derived by hybridization and so on from two different species)--the classic example is Primula kewensis. But in general, there was no close correlation. When I started working on Nemophila, I originally got into the chromosome-number thing because the most striking species--the baby blue-eyes--is extraordinarily diverse in color and color pattern. I had heard about polyploid complexes, and I thought this might indeed be one.
Lage
Do you want to define that term?
Constance
A polyploid complex is a series of closely related things with different chromosome numbers, some of which are usually multiples of others. This has not only the value for classification in that it differentiates different populations because they have different numbers; but if you have a species, let's say, with a basic number of nine, another one with eight, and some others with seventeen, there's at least a strong supposition that there may have been some progenitor-descendent
I got interested in this, and I don't know that I would call myself a pioneer, but by and large, the taxonomists ignored this sort of thing and the cytologists didn't know enough about taxonomy to know how to apply it intelligently. In the sense of trying to put the two together, I think I probably made some contribution. I went out of my way to try to publicize this, in a way. I adopted the policy of, after publishing pictures of the chromosomes, making duplicates of these and distributing them with the appropriate specimens. I know for a fact that a number of my taxonomic colleagues around the country threw the pictures in the wastebasket because they didn't think this cytological information was appropriate for a herbarium. Now, I don't think anybody would discard it.
Lage
So is it part of a catalog of the harbarium now?
Constance
It's very likely to be--it's usually indicated on the label. But then it was not a common practice, as it is now.
Lage
Was is even a little offensive to some of your colleagues?
Constance
I assume so.
Lage
It's interesting how disciplines develop certain prejudices.
Constance
That's right. But the general reaction to anything new, of course, is likely to be negative. Mostly, I think, the reaction was more one of amazement than anything else: Why would anybody go to all this trouble? But I think it helped to popularize the approach, and in that sense it was at least missionary work. Probably the easiest way to make a reputation is to bring in something from one field and inject it into another. You don't have to exert much cerebral energy. At any rate, it worked out that way.
Early Work on Umbelliferae with Mildred Mathias3
ConstanceAbout 1940, I began working with Dr. Mildred Mathias on Umbelliferae, which was the second of my coauthorship ventures with a distinguished lady botanist. The way this came about was as follows. When I was at Washington State, I did a lot of collecting. As I did later in California, I tried to learn as
One of the groups that was particularly well represented in the area in Idaho and eastern Washington where I did field work was the family Umbelliferae or Apiaceae which I usually refer to as "the parsleys" and which Dr. Mathias always called "the carrots." It is a group with very inconspicuous flowers, most of which look very much alike, and common wisdom is they all look alike, which of course isn't true. It's like saying all members of a family look just alike and probably is not true to the view of people in the family, shall we say. Most of their classification is based on the fruits, and in fact that has been the emphasis for the several hundred years that people have been classifying them.
One of the groups that I had particular trouble with was this family. I had heard that there was a lady botanist somewhere, who had taken her degree at the Missouri Botanical Garden, who was an expert in the group. I never could find out where she was because every time I heard she was somewhere, I learned that she was not there but had gone somewhere else. Her husband, a physicist, had moved from institution to institution, and she went along. When I came back to Berkeley, I discovered that she was here working in the herbarium. She was working on the revision of the genus Lomatium, which is--
Lage
Is this part of the family?
Constance
This is part of the family. It's the largest western American genus of the family. This was being done as part of a festschrift for the botanist Jesse M. Greenman, who was her major professor at the Missouri Botanical Garden in St. Louis. In the course of this study, she had to learn a good deal about the geography of the western United States, which was unfamiliar to her and, by and large, fairly familiar to me. So I kibitzed. At the same time, I was still carrying around with me a hundred or so specimens of Umbelliferae, which I had collected and on which I was hoping to get expert advice. So we put the two things together; she was impressed by the fact that I had actually identified some of them correctly, which was unusual.
Lage
It must be a difficult family.
Constance
It's supposed to be, which makes it particularly nice because most everybody leaves it alone. At all events, that was the beginning of the association.
Then, about 1940--maybe a little earlier--she came in one day and said, "Gerald and I have decided we're going to have a family, and I'm going to give up the Umbelliferae, and I want you to take them over." I said. "Well, I'll have to think about this for a while."
Lage
You already had a plant family.
Constance
I already had a plant family. At any rate, I countered the proposal--that I would work with her until she had completed all of the commitments she had made, and she had made plenty. She was supposed to "do" the family Umbelliferae for Abrams's Illustrated Flora of the Pacific States, for North American Flora, which is published by the New York Botanical Garden, (which includes all of North America including Mexico), Flora of Arizona, and I believe some others.
Lage
Well, once you've done the North American, would the others just be spin-offs, or would they go into more detail?
Constance
To some extent. In this business of specializing. you keep repeating yourself; there's no question about it. On the other hand, every time you do a regional or areal or local thing, you usually try to go beyond what you did before. You're constantly adding to, revising, subtracting from, and so on, so it isn't a simple repetition; you have to reevaluate the whole thing every time around.
Lage
Isn't this a giant family? How many different genera and species would you be running into?
Constance
It's terribly hard to say. Customarily, the estimates are something like three thousand species, maybe three hundred genera. The family is one of those which is a so-called "natural" family. It was perhaps the first family of flowering plants recognized as having been something of a unit, a recognition which goes clear back to the fifteenth or sixteenth centuries. It was the first family to be monographed, by the English botanist, Robert Morison. I can't think of the dates offhand. but let's say it was in the seventeenth century [1620-1683].
Members of the family have a very strong family resemblance.
Lage
You said it was a "natural" family.
Constance
That's right. Another example is the Compositae--the sunflower family--also the Leguminoseae, or pea family. There is such a strong family resemblance that the genera are founded on what would seem to be rather trivial characteristics otherwise. And as a result. you have the kind of general law that the more
We did start to work in this way and our work--the early stages of it--really culminated in the treatment for North American Flora, which was a fairly major job. Actually, we completed that in 1943 or 1944, while I was in Washington and Mildred was in Binghamton, New York.
##
Constance
This is the treatment in North American Flora, volume 28b, of which Dr. Mathias and I did the Umbelliferae.
Lage
Is this entire volume devoted to Umbelliferae?
Constance
It has a few other items in it. It also has the family Araliaceae and the family Cornaceae, and a few others. We did not do those. Then there was an extensive bibliography. But it runs to four or five hundred pages.
Lage
So that was quite a major bit of work.
Constance
Well, it's something over two hundred pages long [looks at volume]--pages forty-three to 295, which, I suppose, one would call a book-length monograph.
Lage
How did the joint authorship work with Dr. Mathias?
Constance
It worked very well. We started working together here, and then her husband went to Binghamton, New York, in the early stages of the war. I worked here, and she worked there, and we shipped stuff back and forth. Then, later, in 1943, I went to Washington for a couple of years. and she was in New York part of the time. We were not in the same place again for over a number of years, but we had worked together long enough that we knew each other's way of going at it. We found that one of us could start something and work on it awhile and send it to the other one; the other one could pick it up, modify it, and send it back. It worked out very well. It says something about the turn of mind that we were very compatible and were able to do this and continue doing it for some forty years. thereabouts. So we were the co-experts, so to speak, on the family and pretty well monopolized anything that was done on it in the New World. We really started publishing together, I believe, in 1940 and continued for thirty-five to forty years.
Prewar Trips
ConstanceLet's see if I can bring us up to my departure for Washington, D.C. In 1942, the botanists were meeting with the AAAS [American Association for the Advancement of Sciences] in Philadelphia. I had never been East, and had been waiting for an opportunity to visit the principal botanical establishments. The AAAS meeting seemed to be the appropriate occasion. I stopped first in Chicago to see Edward Ullman, who had been my friend at Pullman and who was completing his doctorate there in geography. I visited his family, and I caught the flu and spent a week in bed, which slowed things up a little. Then I went on to Harvard, where Rollins was going to meet me; but since I had been put to bed for a week, he had had to go on home to Wyoming, and some of his friends stepped in and took me over. Then we went to the meetings in Philadelphia. Afterward I went to the New York Botanical Garden, which is one of the big institutions in my field, and then on to Washington, meeting the leading botanists along the way and renewing acquaintances with others I had met before. In Washington I stayed with Jack Clark, who had been one of my field companions at Pullman. I met, pretty much, my peers across the board, most of the important people in my field. In most cases, I continued the relations by visit and by correspondence. It was quite a valuable experience.
Lage
Was this standard in your field, that people would have a great circle of acquaintances?
Constance
Not necessarily. I liked it. I found it very fascinating.
One of the botanists I met in Washington was Ellsworth Killip, quite an interesting chap. He was quite a good botanist. He had collected in both North and South America when it was quite the thing to do. His principal problem was that he a bit of an alcoholic, but he was fun to see at meetings if you didn't see too much of him, shall we say.
Lage
Is this why he's on the page [in the photo album] with the champagne glass?
Constance
I think probably. Well, he was on good terms with Goodspeed and also with Charles B. Lipman, who was then dean of the graduate division at Berkeley. He [Killip] always wanted to go on parties. So far as I could discover, at any party he went on, he got sadder and sadder as the evening went along: and when he came out to Berkeley, I think he had hosted Lipman often, Lipman wanted to do something in return.
So we picked up different people to provide a party for Killip--A. R. Davis, Francis MacBride, who was with the Chicago Field Museum, Dennis Hoagland, and Charles Lipman. Francis Drouet and Don Richards were also from the Chicago Museum; they were, to some extent, friends of Lipman's.
Lipman was a very interesting character. He was a very good dean of the graduate division. He was something less than the world's greatest scientist, I think. He got interested in the presence of live bacteria, presumably in meteorites and anthracite coal and so on. He was quite convinced that these were semi-immortal organisms which had been there all the time, happily ticking away. Most people, I think, felt that the chances of contamination were considerably greater than the chances that these were really indigenous. But, at any rate, he went back to places like the Smithsonian and the Field Museum-- probably when he was on official jaunts --and looked over their old collections to see if he could culture bacteria. We got acquainted with some of these people. I remember on one occasion I took them over to the City to meet Izzie Gomez--did you ever hear of Izzie Gomez?
Lage
No.
Constance
Well, Izzie Gomez was the King of Little Bohemia--one of the last of the Barbary Coast. He was a big, fat Portuguese with a broad hat, which he never removed. And what was it?--a Grappa punch, or something, which must have been pretty awful. But Gomez was kind of fun, you know.
Coming from a place like Pullman, we found it terribly exciting to have access to San Francisco. I'm sure I spent more time in San Francisco in those days than I ever have since.
In May of 1942, Reed Rollins, who was on the faculty at Stanford, and I made a field trip together of several weeks into northwestern California and adjacent Oregon. Reed was working on the genus Arabis. on which he became the expert. I was still mostly interested in Hydrophyllaceae. We took an old Dodge car that belonged to Stanford University, and we had a wonderful trip. We camped out and got rained on fairly consistently, but we discovered some items which had never been collected before. One item we were particularly interested in we found exactly forty years after it had first been collected, and it had not been collected since. We had an absolutely wonderful time, and we decided we would do this every year. We never did it again.
Then in August of that year I made a trip with Milo S. Baker, who was the botanist at Santa Rosa Junior College, and that was the last trip before the war.
VI Wartime Service
Geobotanist for the OSS ##
ConstanceHere's a picture of the department in 1942 as it was beginning to break up for the war. Davis had a reserve commission--he was the chairman. He went down to San Diego and in this picture he was a major in coast artillery at Camp Cullan in San Diego.
Emerson taught physics for a while and then went to Salinas and worked in the Guayule program. I stayed around for a while. The university seemed, at first, to tell us that it wanted us to stay on the job, and then we gradually became an embarrassment. I tried to get into the navy, but I was turned down on eyesight twice. By that time I decided. okay, they've got a Selective Service that's supposed to tell you what to do, so I'll wait until they tell me.
Our son was born on December 6, 1942. I wrote a little poem and printed it and sent it out. [reading] "Santa Claus came to Berkeley, preceded by the stork. which made our Christmas letters as scarce as eggs or pork. These greatly bedazzled parents, unused to baby things, hadn't time to notice the days were taking wings. Better late than never. to send out New Year's wishes, so may your 1943 turn out a much happier year than this is." I didn't really fancy myself as a poet, but it was kind of cute and fun. I printed it myself, too; we had a little hand-press. Here he is with his maternal grandmother and his mother.
I was waiting until something called. and I got a call from my friend Ed Ullman in Washington, D.C., asking if I would like to come back and work for the OSS [Office of Strategic Services], which I'd never heard of. He said they often had questions involving biology in one way or another, and they didn't have any biologists. The OSS was populated at various times by
Lage
This put you in the military service?
Constance
No, I was a civilian. The OSS was created outside the military service. It was the forerunner of the CIA. Both the army and navy had used their intelligence branches as dumping grounds between wars. So President Roosevelt called on General Donovan to set up a really quasi-independent intelligence outfit. That's where I was, and I couldn't tell you now the way it was all set up, but there were regional divisions, and there were subject-matter divisions, I think. At any rate, I was in the Research and Analysis Branch of the Euro-African Division.
Lage
What were you supposed to be doing?
Constance
Our job was supposedly to prepare background material ostensibly for the use of our invading forces. We tried to find out all we could find out about Sicily, and North Africa, and Normandy, and so on.
Lage
Did this involve travel?
Constance
Some people went overseas, but by and large almost all were working from published materials of one sort or another, or somebody's confidential reports. It was an erratic kind of thing; you wouldn't do anything for days, and then would work all night for three nights in a row. I was pretty cynical about most of it. I was there, it was my job. okay, and you do the best you can.
There were a lot of young graduate students who came down with their professors. Some of their professors had reserve commissions, and they went from being professors to colonels and so on. A lot of them were impossible. One of my bosses was Preston James. who was a professor of geography at Michigan. Another was Richard Hartshorne, who was a professor of geography at the University of Minnesota. My friend Ullman was a geographer, so I really came in with a geographer wave. Another boss was Sherman Kent from the Marin County family of Kents. He was a history professor at Yale, but he stayed in the outfit.
At any rate, I got a letter from Ullman asking me if I would be interested in this. As I said, I was getting increasingly embarrassed to be here, alive and not in uniform,
Lage
They didn't ask for a waiver?
Constance
Oh, yes. They had put me on the list to ask for a draft deferral. But what would happen is that, all of a sudden, somebody ten years younger than I, who was somebody's favorite graduate student, was endangered. so they'd put him ahead on the list and move me down. So I spent all my time sort of going back and forth. I didn't pay much attention to it. I told myself I didn't give a damn. It was in the hands of Selective Service, and they could worry about it.
Here's a picture of one group, which gives you an idea--you see, these people are mostly military. My boss, Preston James, had moved me up and down and back and forth, and he came in one day and said, "I've recommended you for commissioning"--it was either for commissioning or for exemption, I'm not sure now. And he said, "You're going to have to go before a board." So I went before the board. and James said. "I've got to have you, so get in there." So, I went in and met with this group of majors and colonels and so on; they were all military people, half a dozen of them. The first thing I was asked was essentially, "Can you tell us why the war effort would come to a stop if you were drafted?" I said, "No, I can't think of any reason why it should." And that apparently was not the thing to say.
The officer cleared his throat and said, "You mean you could do what you're doing now just as well in uniform?" I said, "Well, I'd sacrifice a little independence. I probably couldn't talk back to the major as freely as I can now, but I don't think it would make any particular difference." And this went on for some time and finally they excused me. I came out, and James buzzed around saying, "How'd you come out?" I said, "If you think you're going to get me deferred. it's probably up to you. I don't think I did anything to help you." Well, apparently, this was such an unusual stance that I was deferred.
Lage
They probably thought you were slightly crazy.
Constance
They must have, and I think probably they were right. But I became essentially a wandering editor. I had had more experience writing than a lot of these young people. Some of these people were--a lot of their work was just terribly naive. These kids would get hold of an article in the encyclopedia and spend
Joint Intelligence Study Publishing Board
ConstanceAt any rate, as the war went on, it was pretty clear that the Europe-Africa division's days were numbered. So Preston James, now a colonel, called me in and said, "I think my opposite number in the Latin-American section is going to ask for you and I'm afraid that he's got more priority right now than I have." I said, "Well, I've been invited to go over to something called the Joint Intelligence Study Publishing Board," which was a multi-service thing--army intelligence, naval intelligence, the OSS, and I don't remember what else. The job there was to put together almost a symposium on a particular area. The military added things that were out of our province. But we'd do things on the climate, the geography, the crops, people, all sorts of things. Some of them would be done by these different intelligence groups, and some we would do. Our job was to put them all together.
Lage
And then who would they be used by?
Constance
The assumption was that they were going to be used by the people who went into the area. What it turned out was that basically they were used by the people who went into military government, if at all. We published what were called the JANIS reports. They were kind of fun because we had the services of the army map division, and it was like publishing a book, really. That was pretty good. I remember working with a geographer (actually, he was originally from Berkeley)--whom I had not known before. We were trying to describe Borneo. I remember I came up with a phrase, something about a peripheral inhabited zone versus a primeval interior, or something of that sort. It was rather interesting. Those were the better parts of it, I think.
Lage
Did your family join you there?
Constance
I went in February 1943. Since my son was born on 6 December 1942, that was one day from making me a legitimate father, you see, for Selective Service purposes. So far as Selective
Well, my wife took our son to her mother's place in Portland, Oregon, and stayed there. She decided that this might go on forever, who knows. So she decided to come back and join me--she came to Washington in November, 1943. These are pictures of our son in Portland. When she arrived. he was about as big as she was. They came clear across the country by train--a miserable jaunt. But at any rate she arrived in November; meanwhile. I had rented an apartment in Parkfairfax, which was Metropolitain Life's very fancy community in suburban Alexandria. I remember that Richard Nixon lived a few blocks from us; we didn't know it. It was mostly young military and civilian families. They used to say of the development next door, Fairlington, that everything was pregnant, including the dogs. Fairlington was a similar community, although Parkfairfax was probably the more elegant. It was just at that stage when everybody had children, which made it kind of nice, in a way.
We were out on the edge of Alexandria. The transportation was pretty horrible. There were buses, and sometimes they'd get there, and frequently they didn't.
Two of our best friends were Olga and Tom Lynch. Olga was a truant officer in New Jersey--I'm not sure where. [indicating on photograph] That's their daughter. And she [Olga] was, shall we say, streetwise; Sally, my wife, was pretty naive and Olga looked after her. Sally was very meticulous about looking after our son, Bill.
The way the thing was set up, you had all these kids and all these buildings, and the mothers usually became desperate, so they dumped them out in the middle. You know, it was like a scene from a mob in Iran, I would think.
Lage
Did they have playgrounds in there?
Constance
It wasn't developed, really. No, they just went tearing around crying Indian, scalping each other, and whatever.
Lage
Having a lot of fun, probably.
Constance
Oh, a lot of fun, but only if your nerves were good enough to take it. Our other close friends, who lived some little distance from us were Kurt Stone, who was a geographer and has just retired from the University of Georgia, and his wife--they were our closest friends.
Life was fairly rigorous, but it was not bad considering it was wartime. There were a lot of minor privations. et cetera, but I'm sure there were everywhere. We took one trip down to Williamsburg with a colleague of mine who was an English professor at Columbia.
Lage
The whole group sounds like a group of professors, if not graduate students.
Constance
We were, mostly. The OSS was largely inhabited by such. [indicating on more photographs] This was the Joint Intelligence Study Publishing Board that I was on. Part of it was under the Joint Chiefs of Staff--I had forgotten that.
Peveril Meigs was a California doctorate in geography, whom I had not known before. Stuart Sharpe was an expert on shore erosion. Ed Ullman was really the senior member. We had a colonel in charge, but the colonel just turned it over to him. The colonel's sole aim in life was getting there early and getting his name on the roster (we had to sign a roster every day). If anybody got there before the colonel, the colonel very carefully signed above it. Then he'd go out to breakfast and wouldn't be heard from again until after noon; about then, he started figuring out how to get home with the least difficulty. This chap was another geographer from Pennsylvania. Louis Quam was a geographer from Colorado; he became an official of the Arctic Institute. Wally Werble was a very interesting chap. He ran a little pharmacy trade newspaper in Washington. He was a sergeant and everybody else in the place was at least a lieutenant. He was probably the most capable of the bunch, and I think that probably everybody would have agreed. These were pictures taken at various times. This chap, Grant, was sent over from whatever the British equivalent of the OSS was--there were two of them who came over. I made some very good friends there. One of my particular friends was Thomas Chubb, who was a Yale graduate, a gentleman yachtsman.
Lage
Were these people you kept in touch with?
Constance
Well, most of them have died, unfortunately. But a number of them I did keep in touch with for some time. In fact, a few years later I went out briefly and visited what had been the OSS and by that time, I think, was IRIS. The chap who had been one of my bosses, Dan Clinton asked if he could get me to come back. I thought, "Does he have rocks in his head?" [laughter]
But it was a congenial group and I really enjoyed it. And it was fairly intelligent work because at least you were doing some writing and trying to organize things.
Lage
Did any of this kind of work carry over or make it easier for you to write later? Did you learn things about writing, or did you already take that with you?
Constance
I'm sure I learned some things about writing. One of the things I learned there was that if you did anything for the military, you wrote it in a series of progressive summaries because, presumably, the thing went to a general; the general tore it into three pieces, gave it to three colonels; the colonels tore their parts into pieces and gave them to majors, and they tore them up and gave them to captains and so on. So you had to have a summary at each step. That was probably good practice. Stuff that went to General MacArthur--he insisted it had to be completely rewritten, I think, or it was rejected outright. And of course, there's the usual story that before some invasion somewhere, an army general looks at these documents and says, "Isn't this marvelous? Here's all the stuff that we needed to know. Too bad we can't use it--it's done by the navy." [laughter] Whether that's true or not. it's good apocryphal stuff--there was some of that involved. certainly. To some extent, I think, we avoided that because we involved all the services.
One of the things we used to do was trace the coastline. We did that by looking in the Hydrographic Office manuals; they take you from point to point. Most of these things were done by WAVES. Unfortunately, every so often they'd get going in the wrong direction. I remember we did the coast of China up one way and back down the other until we found one that matched. But it was still interesting work and fairly respectable.
The other thing I did--before my wife came, at least--was to go and work nights at the Smithsonian Institution on botany. So I got acquainted there, and I got quite a little work done. I did some little botanical work while I was back there. At any rate, I was there until the fall of 1945, and then we left as soon as possible and drove back across the country and resumed life in Berkeley.
VII Post-War Years at Berkeley and Harvard # #
A Call from Harvard
LageWhat kinds of changes did you see at the University after the war?
Constance
By the summer and early fall of 1945, the war was coming to an end, and a number of my colleagues in these agencies were trying to see how they could stay on in Washington, and I was trying to see how quickly I could get out and get back home. I remember receiving a letter from my departmental chairman saying that I had been promoted to associate professor while I was away and that he hoped my salary would reach the four-thousand-dollar figure by the time I got back. It didn't quite--
Lage
How did that salary compare with other universities?
Constance
I don't think I know. I would suspect it was probably about par for the course. Berkeley salaries have usually been pretty well comparable. At any rate, I was invited to return, and we drove back across the country as quickly as reasonably possible.
Lage
That means that you were promoted to tenure status while you were away--
Constance
That's right.
Lage
--so this kind of decision-making was going on--
Constance
I was also fired, as I think I told you earlier.
Lage
And you never knew it. [laughs]
Constance
I never knew it. So the promotion came as less of a surprise than it might have otherwise. Well, coming back was a great joy, of course. But the University was suddenly inundated by returning service people and others. It was a very stimulating
I don't remember any great change in affairs. I came back in '45. I guess the most novel thing that came along, so far as I can recall, was that late in 1946 I received a letter from Harvard saying that I was being considered for a position, and they would like to invite me to come back to the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences meetings and then stay a week to be interviewed.
For some reason, I seemed to have felt particularly harried at the time. And I was so glad to be back in California that I couldn't think of anything that would induce me to return to the East Coast for any length of time. I wrote back and said I appreciated the honor greatly, but I didn't think I would be interested, and I didn't think it would be proper to take the offered expense money since that was the case. Almost immediately, I got back a telegram saying "We need your advice--no obligation involved." As a westerner who had only once visited Harvard and the East Coast. the invitation to go back and give advice, of course, was an overwhelming inducement. So I did accept the invitation. I persuaded my colleague, Herbert Mason, who was very leery of eastern entanglements, to go back with me. I stayed the additional week and was pretty thoroughly interviewed.
Lage
Was this just a subterfuge, their needing your advice?
Constance
No. The situation with Harvard was rather an interesting one. They had some eleven botanical institutions, and Harvard has the philosophy which is commonly phrased as "Every tub on its own bottom." They [the separate institutions] had as little to do with each other as possible; thus, the botanical institutions distanced themselves as far as possible from instruction in biology, although most of the senior figures taught a course under the general biology rubric from time to time. But the senior figures in charge of the two principal botanical institutions, which were the Gray Herbarium and the Arnold Arboretum, respectively, were at the point of retirement. Actually, Dr. Fernald of the Gray Herbarium had already retired and Elmer D. Merrill, who had once been dean of the College of Agriculture at Berkeley, was supposed to retire the next year. Harvard's central adminstration had decided that there should be
The administration learned of the existence of such a report and essentially ordered it to be produced. The wheels were set in motion for a fairly extensive reorganization. This coincided with the efforts, naturally enough, of the younger people in the different institutions concerned to succeed to the position of those who were retiring. As a result, Bailey and others who were involved in this effort, found that they got very conflicting advice, which was very much intermixed with individual goals. They really did feel the need of someone from outside, who was not personally concerned, to look at the situation. The fact that I was not personally interested in it made me seem unusually useful as a source.
Lage
They were probably even more glad to have you after they got that letter saying you simply weren't interested.
Constance
If I had really wanted to be considered, that was the best way to be considered, though I had not intended it that way. At all events, I fell in love with Bailey, who was one of the finest people I've ever had any professional association with, and really my only regret in not staying. I think. was that I had to disappoint him.
I talked to him and others--everybody went out of their way to be nice to me. I talked a few times to students and others. Pretty obviously, the velvet carpet was being unrolled. At any rate, when it was about time to leave, I had a discussion with Bailey, and I remember him saying. "Well, there are really three choices." In the first place, he hoped that I would join them. He suspected that I had some reservations about this. The second one was that I would decline. The third was that I might be willing. if it could be worked out with the Berkeley authorities, to spend some time really helping them make an appointment to the position if I declined it, and in general, advising them on the whole business. They wanted to set up a committee, which they wanted to have me on. It would really have to do with planning the governance and organization of the different botanical establishments.
At all events, I did come back to Berkeley, and I did go to my chairman, A. R. Davis. Before I had gone to Harvard, he asked me just one thing--not to make a decision until I returned. So I frankly more or less forgot about it until I ran into him in the hall one day. He asked me if I had made the
Lage
Was this unusual to get leave to go to another university?
Constance
I really don't know. I was too unsophisticated in university ways to know. At any rate, Provost Deutsch was very skeptical about it. He said, "I think they're just trying to get him back there so they can work on him." And Davis said, "Okay, probably true." But he said, "I think that if he goes, he will come back, and if he doesn't, that's too bad. But I think he would always resent it, feeling that he had been denied an opportunity, whereas if he goes and does come back, then I think he'll be quite content, and everybody will be happy." At all events, Deutsch did agree to that, and I did go.
Lage
Do you think you would have felt some resentment if they hadn't agreed to it; would it have changed your perception or your feeling about being at Berkeley?
Constance
It's hard to say. My feeling about Berkeley always was that I was better treated than I deserved to be. When I did tell Davis that I had turned the thing down, he said. "I will see that you never regret it." I said, "Well, I'd like you to know that I made my decision on the treatment I have already received and not on anything I was expecting to gain." One of the things that depressed me about Harvard was that I observed that the latest person to arrive always got the best deal. And one of the reasons I was not particularly attracted to it was that there were people on the Harvard faculty whom I thought were considerably more deserving than I, who were still at the assistant or associate professor level. They were perfectly willing to offer me a full professorship. I didn't think that that's the way you want to play the ball game.
At all events, I don't know how I would have felt. I did go, and it turned out to be a quite fascinating year in many ways.
Observations of Harvard, 1947-1948
ConstanceI was asked if I could get there by the first of July, so we drove across the country again. We had an old car which we had driven West from Washington in 1945, and there was no way you could get a new car at that time without getting it on the
We got to Cambridge about the first of July, and I had been told about a committee that was operating to administer things; but it turned out that of the members, Albert C. Smith was in Fiji doing field work, Ivan Johnston was at the Harvard Forest teaching a summer class, so I was the only taxonomist in town. Bailey immediately took me out and put me in charge of the Gray Herbarium, which produced all sorts of agony on the part of various people who were hoping to succeed to the directorship.
Lage
Had that not been part of the agreement before you went back there?
Constance
Not with me; it was news to me. But I was there; I was at their service. That's what they wanted me to do.
Lage
Did that need some reorganizing, itself?
Constance
Well, it needed somebody to manage it. I discovered that my prime duty was to convince the former director, Professor Fernald, that he had indeed retired because, as Bailey said, he had been running the place to his own advantage for the last twenty-five years. and Merrill had been doing the same thing at the Arnold Arboretum. All the younger people were standing around waiting their turn. So it was a little difficult to reorganize things peacefully. Basically, I didn't do much reorganization. My job was mostly to keep it running.
But it was a very interesting experience because I was the man from Mars, so to speak. By this time, I knew all the characters, and there were some very fine people. But there was considerable emotional upset on their part as the picture was changing. and they wondered where they were going to fit into all this.
At the same time, I was very much interested in observing another university up close. I remember remarking, rather naively, to someone at a luncheon, I guess, that I really didn't understand how the Harvard budget system worked. After having put in one budget, I think, everybody laughed at me--they said they'd been doing it for years, and they didn't understand it either. [laughter] It was quite an education, all the way around.
Lage
Were there a lot of contrasts with the way Berkeley worked?
Constance
More similarities than differences, I think. A private university certainly has differences. A university with the kinds of traditions Harvard has probably has even more. The alumni have a much stronger voice in things. I was there when Conant was president. One of things I found particularly interesting is that I was asked if I would serve on a couple of appointment committees. Bailey said I might find it interesting, and "the fact that you're here and Harvard wouldn't have to pay your expenses would be a very strong inducement." So I served on a committee to appoint the director for the Farlow Herbarium, which was the mycology, fungus herbarium. And I served on the committee which would appoint a director of the Gray Herbarium. The appointee was Reed Rollins.
Lage
Had he been a professor there at the time?
Constance
He was a professor at Stanford then. He had been a graduate student at Harvard and a university fellow, but he was then at Stanford. That was very interesting. Conant served on both of those committees. That was something different from Berkeley because here the administration does not appear on appointment committees, so far as I'm aware.
Lage
Did he take a dominant role?
Constance
He took the role of devil's advocate, and since I was one of two outside people, I got in an argument with him first with the mycology appointment because he started saying, "Why don't we just forget about the Farlow Herbarium and get the greatest mycologist in the country?" And I said. "Well that's fine in theory, but you have a major institution that's got to be provided with leadership, and I don't see much point in worrying about the greatest mycologist in the country if he isn't capable of running the institution." Conant didn't particularly like this, but he did go along with the appointment we proposed.
When we got to the Rollins committee--this sounds a little like Marcos in the Philippines--they had to present a brief on the candidate. I think I wrote the brief for the candidate. And then I was one of the "impartial outsiders," and Reed had been my first graduate student. So that was kind of a shooin. The thing that happened that was most interesting is that Henry Gleason from New York Botanical Garden, who was a friend of mine, was the other "outsider." As soon as Rollins' name was proposed. Gleason remarked that he had just recommended Reed to replace him at the New York Botanical Garden. It was the last thing he had done before he left New York. Since both he and I were strongly pro, that appointment-committee meeting didn't last very long. I remember Conant took us to lunch afterwards. Conant was a chemist, of course. He went to some length to tell me how he almost became a botanist himself, as a matter of fact.
The one fly in the ointment was that there was a feeling that, having come back for a year, if somebody spoke the proper words I might decide to stay. I made it perfectly clear that I didn't intend to. Bailey came to me in the spring and said, "I'm quite sure you mean what you said. Although I don't like it, I'm willing to accept it, but some of my colleagues won't accept it. So I wonder if you'd be willing to meet with the provost." Buck, a historian who later became director of the Widener Library at Harvard, was provost. Bailey said. "If you will meet with Buck and he can't change your mind, then I think my colleagues will agree to go ahead with an appointment." So I did meet with Buck. Buck, who, I think, was from Ohio, remarked how much he thought of Berkeley and that if he'd had the opportunity, he'd have liked to come here himself. So he didn't talk me out of it.
The funniest thing was that the Baileys wanted to give a party for us, a reception. But my wife and young son spent most of the year fighting flu, measles, or something, and they couldn't really get things together until almost the time we were to leave. About that time, George Wald, who is a Nobel laureate expert on the retina and a strong political activist, had just been appointed. So they decided it would be nice to combine the two occasions.
Lage
Now what had he been appointed to?
Constance
A professorship in biology. So they had a reception for us. They had the Walds on one side, the Constances on the other, and Mrs. Bailey was between Wald and me. She was an absolutely marvelous person, a bone-deep Bostonian. Somehow, she got the idea that his name was "Bald," and he was, as a matter of fact. [laughter]
At any rate, it was a hilarious occasion because as people were coming down the reception line, she introduced them to "Mr. Bald", and people were saying, of course, "We're so delighted you're joining us." And then she introduced them to Mr. Constance, but what do you say to Mr. Constance--"We're so delighted you're going"? It was really just hilarious because every time she said "Mr. Bald," poor George blushed.
Well, we made wonderful friends at Harvard. I thought then, and I think now, that we were happier here, and I think that they would be happier having us here than they would have been if we had stayed in Cambridge, although I think we probably could have gotten along all right.
Lage
You made the comment in our first interview that you never really understood your mother until you spent that year in Cambridge. Elaborate on that a little bit.
Constance
That's right. You really have to read some of the books on the Bostonians, I suppose, to get to the bottom of that. There's a certain proper-Bostonian atmosphere that's really difficult to characterize. It's a seriousness of purpose, a recognition of the importance of intellectual things. A certain lack of sense of humor tends to go with it, but, basically, they're very fine, somewhat reserved. But once they accept you, you're in, so to speak. And I never really felt at all strange, although I'm probably much more informal. But I was always treated with great respect and affection, I think, which I always returned.
The other thing I was going to say was that, when I did talk to Buck, toward the close of the conversation, he siad, "We've enjoyed having you so much here. I'm assured that you've been a great help to us in our planning, and I wonder if you wouldn't like to have some continuing association with Harvard after you get back to Berkeley." Well, it sounded fine. I said, "I don't know what you have in mind, but certainly I shall always have great respect for Harvard; after all, it isn't every institution that offers you a position. Anything I can do, I'd be interested in doing." Bailey asked me afterward what Buck had said. I told him. He said, "You know what he had in mind, don't you?" and I said. "No--no idea." He didn't explain it. He said, "Some of my colleagues got the idea that maybe we could work out an arrangement with Berkeley whereby you would spend six months of every year here and six months there." I said, "I think it's absolutely preposterous. I wouldn't be any damn good to either of them." He said, "That's what I thought."
Lage
[laughing] Buck never made that clear.
Constance
Buck didn't make that clear.
##
Constance
I suppose the natural sequence to that was that I did serve Harvard for seven years on the Visiting Committee for biology. So I did have a continuing relationship with Harvard. Actually, at one time I had three former students who were professors at
Lage
How did your wife feel about the possibility of living in Cambridge?
Constance
She had a pretty miserable year. It was a very snowy, wet one. She and our son had the flu and measles and various other things. She liked some parts of it, but I think her mother had told her that she thought that she was too "western" ever to really enjoy living in the East. I don't think that's necessarily true. I think we would have enjoyed it all right, but I don't think either of us ever felt any great regret about staying.
Lage
I had a question about Harvard's interest in you, and we really didn't make it clear, partly because you're very modest.
Constance
You asked why Harvard was interested in me. The nearest thing I know about it is that Harvard has a very diverse faculty--always has had. Harvard. by and large, has the policy of waiting until people have "made it" and then giving them a call. That used to work; it doesn't work so well anymore. Not everybody comes when Harvard whistles. They were losing, by retirement, some of their senior members so they had a committee, or committees, debating the possible replacements. I don't know how my name originally got in the pot. I think probably one of the major reasons was that I had sponsored Reed Rollins at Harvard, and he did fabulously well. So that shed glory on me.
Sometime when I was at Harvard, I ran across a letter which I probably should not have seen, but it was in the files, I guess, in my office. It said, in essence, that Constance is reputed to be one of the best of the younger people in the West, although his record doesn't show it. Of course, most of the people at Harvard weren't trying to teach four courses on a half-time job, working seven days a week, twelve hours a day, as I had been at Pullman for three years.
At any rate, undoubtedly there were various candidates favored by various people, who, in the face of different rivalries, and vested interests of one sort or another, cancelled each other out. And perhaps because I wasn't very well known to some of them but was favorably known to a few, they discovered they could come to an agreement on me, whereas they couldn't on some of the others who were under consideration.
Lage
Would there have been contact or any closeness with faculty members here who might have recommended you?
Constance
Elmer Merrill had been Dean of the College of Agriculture here, and he went on to be director of the Arnold Arboretum at Harvard. He almost surely was in touch with somebody here. But I really don't know. I knew several of the people at Harvard reasonably well or not very well. The field is so small that "everybody knows everybody" to some degree. It's probably oldboy network, I suppose.
I just don't know. Probably not primarily my published record, I would guess. But I think the feelings at Harvard were so intense that they were hoping to have someone who would be relatively objective, dispassionate, not too closely tied to any particular group. At least after they interviewed me, they decided that I was such a person.
The Associates in Tropical Biogeography
ConstanceI realize I passed by one thing. At Christmas 1946, before I went back to the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences meetings in Cambridge, I had been asked if I would be interested in taking a trip to Baja California under the imprint of the Associates in Tropical Biogeography. This was an organization which was established largely, I think, at the instance of Carl Sauer, who was the dominant influence and one-time professor of geography. Sauer and other people in the natural sciences--particularly those branches of the sciences that were involved in field work--felt that the university gave rather a short shrift to support of field work as opposed to support of laboratory science. So a number of people, including [Ernest] Babcock from genetics, I think probably [Richard] Goldschmidt from zoology. and [G. Ledyard, Jr.] Stebbins from genetics and a number of others--people from paleontology and geology--got together and formed this organization.
Lage
Were you involved in that at all?
Constance
I was involved in that in several ways, as a matter of fact. At any rate, I think we got a grant of twelve thousand dollars from President Sproul, which I think Sauer probably negotated personally. Eventually, at least, Morris Stewart who was an parasitologist and dean of the Graduate Division--I'm not sure of the exact timing of all of this--but for a number of years he, as dean of the Graduate Division, and I, as dean of Letters and Science, kept the Associates in Tropical Biogeography going. I don't think it's still going. But at any rate it enabled a lot of people, particularly graduate students, to get support
With Carl Sauer in Baja California
ConstanceAt all events, they decided it would be nice to have a kind of a sample model expedition involving people from different disciplines. One of the arguments for this was the thought that maybe people in different disciplines could combine forces in field work. So much to my surprise, when I got back from Cambridge, I discovered that this expedition was leaving the first of February or something of that sort--which at that time was an intersemester interval. The personnel was Carl Sauer of geography; Howel Williams, a volcanologist in geology; Reuben Stirton, a vertebrate paleontologist; myself; and a graduate student in entomology and two in geography, as I recall. I think that was the entire personnel. We had two little International Harvester trucks. We started out from Berkeley and drove to San Diego. Carl Sauer was back on the east coast as a member of the Guggenheim selection committee, so he didn't join us until we were fairly well down the peninsula. Basically, what we did was to drive from Berkeley to the tip of Baja California, making a number of stops, mostly along the west coast, but with some trans-peninsular jaunts and--
Lage
Did you have an overall goal?
Constance
Well, the overall goal was a bone of contention. As I said, the thing was supposed to be a model and was to have people with different objectives and different disciplines work together in the field. And each of us went with some objective. Howel Williams wanted to see volcanoes. There are three volcanoes, the Tres Virgenos in Baja California, and he got to spend a half day with them. Stirton really was interested in fossils, but he figured that on such a short trip he probably couldn't do much, really, extricating fossils if he found any. So he took along a fairly elaborate kit to collect modern mammals. I had some specific botanical objective, but mostly I wanted to obtain material for the herbarium and for my own information, which was fine.
But Sauer had objectives for all of us which he didn't confide to us except during the course of the trip. He was interested in the human use of plants, so he had me in the role
Lage
So he had an overall purpose for this expedition, but it wasn't defined in advance.
Constance
He had an overall purpose, and it wasn't necessarily the same as ours. But he was a very interesting chap, very broad in his interests and so on, but he was used to traveling with strictly his subordinates and mostly graduate students. His wiser colleagues knew better than to go in the field with him. One of them remarked later that he had never gone into the field with Sauer. That was John Leighley, who was a long-time associate. [He recently died in his nineties.]
Lage
Was Sauer older than the rest of you?
Constance
Yes, he was older. We got along just fine until Sauer caught up with us. And then we discovered certain idiosyncrasies of his which didn't necessarily jive with the certain idiosyncrasies of ours. My first experience with it was that I was trying to collect plants. You can't collect plants and dry them properly without a considerable outlay of time, which obviously would complicate things for other people. So I would get up at the crack of dawn and go out and collect plants and try to get them all organized, usually foregoing breakfast in the process so I wouldn't hold anybody up. And I got a lot of stuff. But I had to stop sometime during the day to dry out the driers that were taking moisture out of plants so the things wouldn't spoil.
The second or third day, I think, after Sauer joined us, I had gotten up at dawn. collected. and was drying out some plants. Sauer walked up to me and said, "You won't have time for that today"; this didn't please me much. He elaborated on this a bit, and I pointed out that I had gone way out of my way to keep from holding up anybody. This didn't impress him, so I finally said, "Well, if you think that I spent the University's money to collect plants only to let them rot, you have another think coming." So that was the beginning of a certain amount of unpleasantness.
Lage
Did the others speak up as well?
Constance
They couldn't speak up really. Williams was the chairman of geology, and he probably was the only person who could've told Sauer at his own level to buzz off. Williams was a quiet little Welshman, a wonderful guy, who'd mutter about Sauer under his breath, but wouldn't really take a stand. Stirton was an associate professor--very outspoken and fairly emotional.
Things got tenser and tenser as time went along because we were completely frustrated. If Sauer wanted to stop, we'd stop for half a day while Sauer chatted with one of the estancia owners or whomever, and we found ourselves camping in the yard with all the buffalo chips. fleas, and so on. and eating in places which were really impossible. We would have been much happier camping out in the country, but Sauer liked to be around people. So things got more and more tense. Sauer wouldn't let the graduate students stop at a cantina even though the temperature was soaring. So pretty soon, the group divided between the two trucks; Sauer and the graduate students were in one, and the rest of us were in the other. We'd stop where we pleased and they'd go by with their tongues hanging out, so to speak.
At any rate, I decided that Stirton might very well find Sauer on his review committee for promotion or something, but Sauer wouldn't be very likely to be on mine. So things began to build up. We were down in one of the southern towns near the tip of the peninsula and one of graduate students who happened to be riding with us that day wanted to stop at a bakery to get some pan dulce [cookies], if I remember correctly. I think he was the entomologist. So we stopped for that. And then my two colleagues were kidding me by saying, "Why don't you go ahead and collect plants?" Here I was in tropical country that I'd never seen before. I resisted for a while--I was driving. They said, "Oh. we'll help you," so we did stop. We weren't very much delayed. but we were about an hour or so behind the other truck. Sauer always said we had to stay within sight of each other, which was silly because the second truck always got all the dust from the first one. It was really dusty!
At all events, we did collect things, doing it as fast as possible. I was driving, and I looked up the stretch of road to see the other car parked at the side of the road. Sauer was standing in the middle of the road with his hands on his hips, glaring. So I drove up to a few feet from him, turned off the engine. and got out. I said, "Professor Sauer, we're delayed because I stopped to collect plants." He glared at me, took off his hat and slammed it down in the dirt, turned around and walked off. That's all we ever heard about it.
Lage
What an experience!
Constance
Later, I applied for a Guggenheim fellowship. Henry Alan Moe was the executive secretary, I think. Sauer had had a long history of association with the Guggenheim Foundation. I wanted to go to Chile to investigate the relationship between California plants and plants of the southern temperate zone. I don't remember how much I asked for, but at any rate, Moe responded that I really had asked for too much for too short a time. I think for a half-year I was asking for something like fourteen-hundred dollars, maybe. Moe said, "But that's all right. I'm sure it can be worked out, but a what you really should do is go over and talk to Carl Sauer on your campus." So I went over and talked to Sauer. Nobody could have been more helpful.
Lage
That's very interesting.
Constance
He was very nice. All he needed was somebody to talk about tot him.
Lage
Was he an influential figure on campus?
Constance
Probably at various times. He was quite a faculty leader at one time and sort of dropped out of it. But he was a very interesting personality and a very forceful one. He was one of the major California-Latin American associates.
VIII Bay Area Botanists and Botanical Thought
Women in Botany: Eastwood, Mexia, Alexander, Carter ##
LageI wanted to talk a little more about women in botany. That's a project our office has begun--interviewing a few women in botany. You worked closely with Marion Cave and Mildred Mathias. I wondered what other women botanists you knew here in the Bay Area. For instance, you mentioned Alice Eastwood in one of your articles. Was she associated with Cal?
Constance
No, she was the grand old lady at the California Academy of Sciences. Of course I knew her.
Lage
You mentioned something about her joy in making new species.
Constance
Well, Alice Eastwood is a very revered San Francisco figure. She had been a high school teacher in Grand Junction, Colorado, and just under what circumstances she came West. I really don't know. But at any rate, she's been written about fairly extensively. She appeared at the California Academy of Sciences and became the chairlady of botany. She was there for many years. She never married; there's a story that she was engaged to a distinguished geologist, but he died suddenly, and she never married. She did a great deal of field work in conjunction with her associate John Thomas Howell, who had been one of Jepson's students. He is now in his early eighties and has been working for many years on the flora of the Sierra Nevada.
She was a very hearty soul. I think it would be fair to say that she was, to some extent, a perpetual amateur. She knew a lot. She had to handle all the questions that arose in San Francisco about cultivated plants. She knew everything in Golden Gate Park. She had a tremendous knowledge of the flora of California, but I think that she wasn't particularly interested in any one specific group. She tended to know quite a little about almost everything. which perhaps was appropriate
Lage
In what age group would she have been?
Constance
She lived into her nineties. I couldn't, just off the top of my head, tell you--but I could easily find out. [goes across room] She lived from 1859 to 1953. One of the cute things about her was that she was very nice to younger botanists. She always made a point of knitting a sweater for each of the younger botanist's first child. She said she wouldn't go beyond the first one. She knitted one for our son.
As I say, her interests were very generalized--she knew a lot. Like most amateur botanists, she was tremendously interested in novelties, and she turned up a lot of them.
One of her good friends remarked once that she had described more kinds of manzanita than there were shrubs on Mt. Tamalpais. which may have been a slight exaggeration, but was probably not too far off.
Lage
How about Ynes Mexia? Was she somebody who was around the University?
Constance
Mrs. Mexia was the daughter of a Mexican general whose name was Mexia. There's a town of Mexia in Texas. I believe that he was one of the Mexican officers at the Alamo. She was married--I don't know what happened to the marriage--but she returned to her maiden name and was known as Mrs. Mexia. She was a professional collector. She collected from at least Mexico to Patagonia that I know about. I'm not too sure of all her comings and goings. I think that she supported herself simply by sale of collections.
Lage
Does this imply "identify" or just "collect?"
Constance
I don't think she identified. I think identification was made by others. The material was handled, at least part of the time, through the University herbarium here by Mrs. Floy Bracelin, who acted as her secretary, amanuensis, agent, or whatever. We have quite a lot of her material, which is very valuable; it's also at the Smithsonian and a number of other places.
Lage
She seems like a very adventuresome woman.
Constance
Well, she was very frail in appearance and didn't look at all husky, as I recall--I didn't know her well. I can't tell you exactly when I saw her. I suppose she probably was here when I
Lage
Was Annie Alexander interested in botany?
Constance
Annie Alexander was one of the university's great benefactresses. I wrote once that she was as important to the sciences as Phoebe Hearst was to anthropology and classic archaeology. She was the descendent of one of the first families of Hawaii--the Alexander family. But she had no interest in social things, per se. She was brought up on a ranch in Kauai, was a great horseback rider. and so on. When she was at Berkeley as a student, she became interested in paleontology. Later, she was primarily responsible for the establishment of both the Museum of Paleontology and the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology-in other words, the fossil and the living. She got her interest or her stimulation, I assume, primarily from John C. Merriam, who was a professor in geology.
There was no Department of Paleontology at that time. The Department of Paleontology was a spin-off from the museum. She was responsible for Joseph Grinnell coming here as the first director of the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology. And as a matter of fact, there are letters in the university's files in which she needles President Wheeler to get busy and make the appointment and get the museum established.
Lage
Does it sound as if she chose Grinnell?
Constance
It sounds very much as if she chose him. He was at Throop Polytechnic, which was the ancestor of Cal Tech. At all events, she was the guardian angel of the Museum of Paleontology and the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology.
Lage
Did she help fund botanical enterprises?
Constance
Unfortunately, she didn't. Late in life. she and her associate, Louise Kellogg, got interested in collecting plants. They worked particularly on the east side of the Sierra Nevada, which is the most difficult place for people with a full academic schedule to get to. They turned up some very interesting stuff.
Lage
Anybody else that you can think of?
Constance
There were several people associated with the University Herbarium who were quite outstanding people. One of them is Annetta Carter, who is still active. She got interested a number of years ago in Baja California. She actually went there accompanying the Misses Alexander and Kellogg. They went there, I think, because they were interested in what various people who had done field work there--including myself--reported about the place. And from that initial experience, she has had a careerlong concern with the flora of the Sierra Giganta; she is still working on the plants. I think those are the people that come to mind offhand.5
##
The Biosystematists
ConstanceYou asked a question about the Biosystematists. This was a group which was formed, I believe, in 1936, which was the last year I was still at the State College of Washington. So I was not in on the initial founding of the group. Someone asked me not long ago in the presence of Professor Ledyard Stebbins if I had been a charter member of the group. And I said, "No, I was sure I had not. I think it actually was founded in 1936 before I returned to Berkeley on the faculty." Professor Stebbins said, "Oh, no! Nobody knew who you were, so we didn't invite you." So I assume that that was probably the official reason that I was not a charter member.
In the thirties. approximately, the effects of the findings of cytology and genetics became employed more and more in discussions of evolution and systematics. And I believe that the group--the Biosystematists--which involved plant taxonomists, geneticists. paleontologists, and a few others, was really
I think that the group was originally organized to conduct general discussions of Huxley's book called The New Systematics, I believe is the title. Huxley's book was really the compilation of discussions held by a similar group in England. So apparently the same kinds of discussions were going on not only here but also in England.
Lage
And this wasn't just botany?
Constance
No. This was quite broad--primarily natural scientists, that is, biologists, geologists, geographers, geneticists, and so on. But it particularly marked the influence of genetical and cytological information on discussions which previously had been based almost wholly on morphology--structure--and so on. This organization has continued to the present day and is still active, although I haven't been very active in it for some time.
Lage
What is their focus now?
Constance
Their focus is still the same. It's really--although they're not wedded, obviously, to any single topic--evolution. They hold bimonthly meetings and they have to do, primarily, with discussions of evolution, of phylogeny, classification, and so forth.
I remember that in the early days, we spent most of our time debating such issues as the proper definition of species. In retrospect, it amuses me that this serious group of scientists sat around and debated that subject. We'd come in with a different definition almost every month, and it was very easy to shoot down any definition anyone came in with. But I must confess that it wasn't for another ten years that I realized that a single definition of species is obviously impossible and that, mostly, it was a waste of time. But the discussions were very good, and I'm sure they influenced the thinking of all of us.
In this instance, discussions of this type--the Biosystematists sort of thing--were far ahead of anything that was going on in the eastern United States, so far as I'm aware.
Lage
How did they accept your ideas? Did they throw you out on your ear?
Constance
No. One of my good friends, who was a taxonomist, kept saying, "How do you know that the next chromosome count you get won't be different?" I said, "You don't." But over time, statistically, these things narrow down, and in most groups, you find that there is some pattern to these things, and it's the pattern that you're after. So I think that that attitude certainly infused my teaching and research and, basically, that of all the students who went out of Berkeley in that general period to other institutions.
Lage
It's an interesting attempt at sort of a larger picture.
Constance
That's right. Well, systematics, as I've probably said many times over, has always had the same general objectives. But it changes its configuration by the addition of all kinds of data. That's always been my message, that this, indeed, is what should happen.
Lage
But is that the message of most of your field?
Constance
I think that's all accepted now. The pioneering stage is past and now they're on to other things, some of which I'm conversant with and some of which I'm not.
##
Jepson's Will: Creation of Jepson Herbarium and Library
ConstanceOne thing I didn't mention, which has been of some importance, is the Jepson Herbarium and Library, because that was a recurring theme. Willis Linn Jepson was my major professor, and
My first contact with that situation was a notice in November 1946 from his attorney saying that I would shortly receive by mail a printed notice of the probate of Dr. Jepson's will. It is sent to me [reading] "because you are mentioned in the will. He says, `I give to my former student, Dr. Lincoln Constance, my silk gown and doctor's hood.' And he also names you as one of the three trustees to administer the Jepson Research Fund." The other two trustees were Alva R. Davis, who was departmental chairman, and Helen Marr Wheeler, later Mrs. Beard. who was a close friend and daughter of a college classmate here at the university. This was an interesting situation because I was the sole plant taxonomist--which was Jepson's field--of the trustees. Miss Wheeler was uncritically devoted to Dr. Jepson and his memory and was anxious to see carried out to a last dotting of an "i" everything he specified.
Lage
Did he specify quite a bit about how it should be run?
Constance
He left a will, if I remember correctly, with twelve handwritten codicils. each of which was a little more drastic than the preceding. I don't think they contradicted each other--they simply added on. Jepson was a remarkable man, a very fine scientist in his own way. I said somewhere in writing his biographical sketches, which I have done several times, that he had an exaggerated sense of the dramatic. Other people call it paranoia.
At any rate, he managed to be at odds with almost everybody most of the time, certainly with all the university people with whom he had contact who were at all close to his field or in anyway related to him administratively. So he didn't like the president, he didn't like the vice-president, he didn't like any of the deans--especially the dean of the graduate division, who was a particular bete noir. He had disliked Professor Setchell, who was chairman of the botany department, for most of the forty years he had been chairman.
Lage
He must have liked Davis, though; he made him a trustee.
Constance
Davis had gone out of his way to be very deferential to him. Davis was a very fine person, very fair, and he certainly did everything he could to make life pleasant for Jepson. So, he did like him. He probably wouldn't have liked him for very long, but at least initially it worked out well, and it would be
It became quite an interesting exercise to know how the University should handle this. I wrote a letter to Davis as chairman in March 1947, the main thrust of which was that I knew for a fact that most of Jepson's accumulation of specimens--and a good deal of his accumulation of literature--had been done on university time and with university funds. And I thought the University ought to simply take over, or claim, the material, which was largely housed in the Life Sciences Building, part of the area where the Biology Library is now, and not pay much attention to the stipulations--only to those which seemed to make some kind of sense, Because, clearly, in addition to, in a sence, threatening the University with losing this material, Jepson was also trying to pay off a number of personal grudges, particularly against my colleague Professor Mason, who was the director of the herbarium.
Lage
So he didn't want the two collections merged?
Constance
Well, that was part of it, but there was more than that. He specified that the director of the harbarium should have no part in any aspect of the estate. And to some extent, the thing was set up so if I had wanted to continue his work, it was really set up to make it possible for me to do so.
Lage
Had he discussed that with you?
Constance
No, he never discussed it with me at all. [reading Jepson's will] He said, "On account of his strange and unexplainable treachery in the years 1934 and later, I direct that H. L. Mason shall not in any way share the benefits or endowments of this will, and I express to Dr. A.R. Davis the hope that this intention will be carried out." That, I believe, was the final codicil.
At all events, I remember meeting with Davis, with Jepson's attorney, and with President Sproul. I believe those were all who were present. I remember making the points that I have just noted orally, and Sproul saying, "I'm sure the University could make a good case out of it. But from a public relations standpoint,"--perhaps he didn't say this, but at any rate, that was the idea--"Jepson was a professor for fifty years at the University. and he was recently given an honorary doctorate. He has given this large"--for its time--"donation to the University, and it would really be a scandal if we did this, and probably we
Lage
When you say that "long after you and I are dead, it will be useful," does that mean that his stipulations didn't allow it to be useful?
Constance
Some of the stipulations couldn't be carried out. One of them was to publish an anonymous document after his death, the title of which, if I recall, was something to the effect of "Men Who Are Vile," and then which went on to enumerate a fair share of the faculty, administration, and whomever.
We did not have possession of this manuscript at that point. I think probably Miss Wheeler had it, because she was the one who was going to be the anonymous publisher. Davis suggested he might like to see some of the letters Jepson had written me to give the judge an idea of what was probably in this volume. The university lawyer was involved also. Apparently. they turned the letters over to the court and I didn't get them back. which I rather regretted. But apparently the judge was convinced, and when the estate was settled, a number of these things were simply ruled out.
Lage
Was Miss Wheeler amenable to that?
Constance
She wasn't very happy about it, but I guess she didn't think she could do much about it. Over the course of years. I think she has clearly come to realize that some of these things were not prudent, shall we say, at least.
Lage
Is she still alive?
Constance
She's still alive; I've been chairman of trustees for a number of years, and still am. and I'm still in touch with her. The trustees haven't met for several years, primarily because she lives in Trinidad [California]. and it's not easy for her to get down. I've offered to hold a meeting anytime she wants one, but she hasn't wanted to.
Lage
The Jepson Herbarium finally was integrated with the University Herbarium, wasn't it?
Constance
That's correct. The Jepson Herbarium and Library have stayed as a distinct unit--it was necessary to box a lot of the books because we didn't have room to put them together. We even got the best of the furniture in his house. But during World War II. it was stored in various odd places and got pretty well demolished. We used to have some of the chairs around the
Lage
And the funds that he left allow for this?
Constance
The funds probably are insufficient to publish it, and exactly how it's going to be financed still remains to be seen. But at least the work is going forward with it, so I think that we are carrying forward at least all the important things that Jepson really wanted to have done and at the same time, passing over things that probably would not have been very wise to do, which I think. really, in his deepest thoughts he would not have wanted to be done.
IX The University Loyalty Oath Crisis
Robert Gordon Sproul and the Faculty ##
LageLet's move on to our university-related topics. We were going to start off talking about the loyalty oath.
Constance
It comes out a little better, I think, if we go at it another way. You asked also about Sproul, and I noticed [in my files] the first thing I have that relates specifically to him. He handed me my Ph.D. diploma when I took my degree in 1934, but I had no reason to believe that he remembered me. I note that on December 9, 1942. I received an invitation, which reads "On Tuesday, December 22, I'm inviting a few members of the faculty to the President's house for cocktails before the Faculty Club Christmas dinner. I should like very much to have you join us between four and six o'clock. Sincerely yours, Robert G. Sproul." I didn't know it at the time, but apparently this group comprised the assistant professors who were to be recommended to go to associate professorship and tenure the following year. As I say, I didn't know that until much later.
I think I told you earlier that I found out a few years ago that with the stringencies of World War II, it was decided to fire my generation of assistant professors, but that, instead. the budget committee, I am informed, convinced Sproul that he should ask the Regents to approve war leave (which was already available to those going into the armed services). And I find a letter, June 30, 1943, addressed to me in "N" Building. Washington, D.C.. where I was working for the O.S.S.. saying that he had recommended that my leave of absence be extended for the year 1943-44. [reads from letter] "Unless you hear from me to the contrary, you may assume that such extension has been granted." And, presumably, it was.
Lage
The invitation to cocktails--would that have been a way of looking over these young assistant proffessors?
Constance
I think so. Sproul wanted to be sure he knew them. Oh, I think the decisions had already been made, probably. But it was a very gracious gesture, and it was, so to speak, welcoming us to the permanent faculty.
Lage
Would you give some background about Sproul and how he related to faculty members?
Constance
You have to go out of the chronology to make it sensible. I see that on July 14, 1949. I have a communication from Sproul--obviously not a personal one--in which he relates that the Regents of the University of California, on June 24, 1949, after consultation and agreement between the President of the University and the advisory committee, of the two sections of the Academic Senate approved the following resolution (which is a long resolution): "Beginning at its birth, the University of California was dedicated to the search for truth..." And at the end attaches an oath, and then at the bottom there is a detachable portion which is to be mailed to the President: "I do solemnly swear or affirm that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of the State of California, that I will faithfully discharge the duties of my office according to the best of my ability, that I am not a member of the Communist Party or under any oath, or a party to any agreement or under any commitment that is in conflict with my obligation under this oath." And this one was supposed to be signed and notarized.
Lage
What was the date of this? Was this the one that came out in July 1949?
Constance
That's right. And I have another letter from Sproul on September 28. This one asked me to serve on a committee to advise him on the need for a marine laboratory. On October 20, a letter from Sproul says, "No reply having come to the form letter about the loyalty oath which I sent you some weeks ago, I am writing to ask if you received it and also to call your attention to the following statement which was agreed upon and issued with the advisory committee of the northern and southern sections," which is quoted. "It is hoped that we shall hear from you soon in order that errors in recording the responses of faculty membes, and the absence thereof, may not be made. Yours sincerely..."
My understanding is that President Sproul called each of the people who had not sent in the signed oath. (In those days, one had to sign his contract and send it in annually.) When he called me. he said he understood that my contract had not been received with the oath and so on. He asked if this were inadvertent or intentional. I said it was intentional. and he asked if I would like to tell him why. I said I would be delighted
So I wrote him on the 24th of October:
Dear Mr. President:
In answer to your letter of October 20 may I assure you I did receive the form letter about the loyalty oath. I hope that your letter may be construed as an invitation to say a word as to my reasons for having failed to sign and return the form before this time. Like many of my colleagues, I delayed complying with the original request for early return of the signed oath in the earnest hope that The Regents would pay serious heed to the fact that its objections to what many of us believed, and still believe, to be an ill-advised requirement, severely prejudicial to the reputation of the University. This hope has now, of course, been disappointed, since it seems evident that The Regents have no intention of making any important modifications in the original stipulation.
I should like to make it perfectly clear that I agree fully with the stated objectives of The Regents' policy. Not only do I have no personal commitment to the Communist Party (of which I am not now, and never have been. and certainly never expect to be, a member) or to any other organizations which impairs my impartiality as a teacher and scientist but I also do not believe a Communist would be a fit member of a university faculty. If there is such a thing as "inactive Communist," I've never seen one, and I am sure no man can serve two masters wholeheartedly. I do think, however, that charges against an individual should be based upon his activities rather than upon his associations.
This point of view does not automatically lend me, however, to enthusiasic acceptance of what seems to me a unilaterally imposed change in the qualifications for tenure appointment in the University Faculty. My reluctance to sign this or any similar special oath can be summed up in the statement that I feel the imposition of such a test to be incompatible with the high reputation of this University, and being required to sign it to be incompatible with the dignity and self-respect which every member of this Faculty should
I realize that a series of mistakes and misunderstandings have so confused the fundamental issue that it is now difficult to discern its original outlines. Since further protest has been rendered ineffective and likely only to give comfort to the group the requirement was originally designed to embarrass (and which I personally despise), I feel I should now comply with your original request. I should like to make it clear that I am signing the oath without any mental reservation, but with a feeling of deep humiliation. Respectfully yours....
An Extraordinarily Difficult Period--Background to the Oath
LageI hope we can elaborate on some of that.
Constance
Do you want to elaborate on it? Doesn't it say enough in itself?
Lage
Well, it leads to other things, like the different groups of the faculty that you referred to and--
Constance
Well, it was an extraordinarily difficult period. Again, the old story, "I don't know how much I know and how much I think I know."
In my files I found a Daily Californian editorial page item, which will give an idea of the temper of those times. It had a paraphrase of a pamphlet entitled "Red-ucators at the University of California, Stanford University and California Institute of Technology." This was May 17, 1950. [reading] "Thirty-three professors at the University of California have been affiliated with the following communist front organizations and enterprises." It then goes ahead and lists seventy-six organizations. They singled out Raymond T. Birge, who was the chairman of physics for twenty-five years, I think. and Robert Gordon, professor of economics. Then there were G. P. Adams. R. A. Brady, O. Bridgman, A. G. Brodeur (English), Constance (botany), Dennes.
Lage
They named you also?
Constance
Oh. yes.
Lage
What organization do you think they were speaking of with you?
Constance
God knows.
Lage
Now. this was the Daily Cal talking about this report?
Constance
Yes. Well, it was one of the McCarthy things, you know. It was interesting in a way because it was indicative of the kind of McCarthy era atmosphere in which the loyalty oath was hatched. I don't want to belabor that. I'd forgotten I had been listed.
Lage
They painted with a pretty broad brush.
Constance
Oh. yes. This was the McCarthy period. At any rate, the universities and all public bodies were under stress. McCarthy was fishing "communists" out of the federal government and most any place else. The legislature was affected. The President was convinced that if the University did not do something to blunt such an attack on the University, the legislature might very well push through some much more damaging regulation. The President did consult with certain senior figures in the Academic Senate.
Lage
Is that the advisory committee the letter referred to?
Constance
I'm not sure exactly whom--I'm sure he did consult a number of them. I mean. he was on close, personal terms with most, essentially, all the senior faculty, and I'm sure that he did consult with the people who were in positions which were regarded by the faculty as leadership positions. They knew Sproul. They were aware of the situation. They had a deep feeling of loyalty to him, and I think, probably, the general message was "We know you, you know us, we can trust each other. We don't think that the faculty will seriously object."
And Sproul came to the presidency by way of the controller's office rather than by faculty membership. Considering this, Sproul was extraordinarily astute in judging the "faculty mind." But this was one spot where, he admitted later, he made a serious mistake. I think that most faculty members would have recognized that some of the faculty, at least, would be offended. Faculty do not like to have other people make decisions for them, even for their own good! I don't want to say that faculty members are childish, but it's very much like making decisions for an adult child. It may well be for his or her own good, but
There was a very wide range of responses. I know some people signed the thing because they were sure that no one would ever be fired. It would be incomprehensible that the University would fire anybody so just go ahead and sign and forget about it.
Lage
They didn't give it that much thought as an issue.
Constance
That's right. I had a very good friend who was a humanist, very astute, for whom I had tremendous admiration and affection and still do. He said, "Well. I figured there was going to be an oath of some kind. so I decided to sign it and then never think about it any more." But then there were some who felt it was a life and death issue. My good friend Curt Stern who was a very distinguished geneticist and zoologist. felt that this was the first stage in the appearance of America's Hitler. You see, there was every range of opinion at that period as to how serious this was. I had trouble, myself, trying to decide. Is this where you stand on barricades, or are you kidding yourself? Are you blowing it clear out of proportion?
Lage
Even at the time--
Constance
That's right. I mean, I didn't like it. I thought it was insulting, and it was insulting. There was no question about it because the faculty were really picked out as a suspect group. It was completely unjustified, and they never did find a real live Communist in the University. I think they finally found a woman who was playing the piano in the physical education department at UCLA who reportedly was a Communist. But if there were any Communists in the faculty, they remained cryptic, I think, so, it was completely unjustified in my judgment.
It was tragic for Sproul because he had done extraordinarily well over a long period of time, but the Regents boxed him in. They were playing politics. Sproul was very close to Governor Warren, and there were one or more of the Regents who had always had wanted to see Warren embarrassed.
Lage
Do you think it was a way of getting at Earl Warren?
Constance
Oh, I don't think there's any question that it was employed politically in the Regents. The Regents split on it. Admiral Nimitz was one of the Regents. He was a very fine naval officer, but his attitude towards the faculty was basically,
There is always the question of "Who is the University?" The students think they are; the faculty think they are; occasionally, the administration gets the misapprehension that it is. So all these different things played in their own way, and I think it was a very tragic and damaging thing to the University. Quite a number of people left and didn't return. I was reminded today of one classicist, who had gone to the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton. who would never return to this campus. They tried to bring him here as a Sather lecturer, but he refused. He would have nothing to do with the Berkeley campus after that had happened.
Lage
How about the Department of Botany? Were there a lot of different opinions within your own department?
Constance
I don't remember much discussion of it. The department was pretty conservative. I don't think anybody really liked it, but I don't think it was discussed much at the departmental level, really. It was kind of above and beyond. I'm sure that Davis, the chairman. who was an intimate friend of Sproul's, would have been very unhappy about it. On the other hand, he might not have been too sympathetic about people stirring up a fuss, because he could see that Sproul was sort of caught in the middle.
Lage
Were there any members of the department who would have left or planned to leave?
Constance
I suppose that I was the most under-the-gun, as one of the youngest.
I do remember that when I went to Harvard. someone made a great point of the fact that I would not have to sign a loyalty oath at Harvard but I had to sign one for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts [laughter], so it didn't really matter all that much.
##
Lage
Did you get involved in Academic Senate meetings and--?
Constance
Not very much. I was on the budget committee by that time. And the chairman of the budget committee was Malcolm Davisson from economics. The oath virtually destroyed him.
Lage
In what way would that have been?
Constance
Well, he was generally conceded to be, I think, the faculty's fair-haired boy and he might very well succeed Sproul as president. The whole thing left him a wreck. He was a very decent, sensitive person who was absolutely destroyed by some of the Regents' politics. There were some who were particularly brutal. John Francis Neylan, who was Hearst's attorney, was originally opposed to the oath. He really got Sproul to commit himself to it and then he wouldn't let him out of it. His lieutenant was Goodwin Knight, who eventually succeeded Warren as governor. So that's part of the business.
Lage
When you say that a faculty member was virtually destroyed, you are referring to the politics within the faculty?
Constance
No. Well, of course there were problems with the faculty, too. Lifelong friendships were broken up. people stopped speaking to each other. It was quite dire, shall we say.
Sproul's Strengths
ConstanceI noticed here's a note I wrote to Sproul--don't ask me why--I thought it was a good idea, I guess. I said,
"Dear Mr. President:
I wish to express my personal gratification for the manner in which you defended before the Board of Regents the faculty's interpretation of the significance of the hearing held in the Academic Senate Committee on Privilege and Tenure. We all earnestly hope you will be wholly successful in convincing the Regents of the justness and reasonableness of the committee recommendations. However, I share what is, I believe, the essentially unanimous conviction of the factor that win. lose, or draw. you have not in any way spared yourself on behalf of the welfare of the University in a defense of true academic freedom. No matter what the outcome may be, I sincerely hope that no consideration whatsoever will induce you to deprive us of your tested leadership in the undoubtedly critical days ahead." (There were rumors that Sproul might leave.) "I. for one, feel that such a loss would be truly calamitous to all of us and to our university."
Lage
You felt that after making the original mistake Sproul came around?
Constance
Sure, there's no question about it. He replied August 1, 1950:
"Your letter of July 18. in which you were good enough to express continuing confidence in me, even in the face of the difficulties which have plagued us all during the past year, is deeply appreciated. In reply I can say no more than that I shall not run away from the presidency as long as I am convinced that I can be useful to the University. Thank you very much for taking the trouble to write to me at a time when an encouraging word was most helpful."
I was never really close to Sproul, but I had a lot of admiration for him and I was fond of him on a personal level too.
Lage
What were his most admirable qualities or accomplishments?
Constance
I suppose his strength was his ability to weld the University's various factions together and to hold the alumni--build the alumni into a feeling of family solidarity--and to command legislative support and respect. Those, I think. were the paramount things.
I suppose it's fair to say that Wheeler was the president who really succeeded in bringing the University to a level of national, international distinction. But he ran the place with an essentially iron hand. Eventually he came a cropper. After that, things were somewhat chaotic. There was a president or two and there were various committees and various regents and whatever.
But Sproul came in as a young man in 1930, and for nearly three decades. he really was the University of California in the eyes of the faculty, the state, and just about everybody else. Not everybody was equally enthusiastic. I'm sure. There were those who felt, since Wheeler was a student of classics, that probably the president ought to be a student of humanities or something of the sort. But Sproul was the first president after Wheeler, I think, who really subsumed the university.
Lage
You have always been a strong spokesman, in the conversations we've had, for faculty as administrators.
Constance
Oh yes, I believe in it.
Lage
And here we have Sproul, who was an exception.
Constance
Yes, but Sproul also believed in it. That's right. Sproul was very good about consulting the faculty. As I said, he was exceptional, considering his background, in understanding what made faculty minds tick. And that's why it was so sad. in a way, that in this one instance, as he himself said, when he made a mistake, he made a beauty. He certainly did; he missed the boat on that, but how much he could have done about it is hard to say.
I came across something I wrote about President Sproul. I don't know quite when it was written, but I listed myself as Ph.D., 1934, so it may have been an alumnus thing of some sort. I said:
"Each of us will have his own recollections of President Sproul. My first one is of his inauguration as President during my first semester at Berkeley as a graduate student. To me, he and the distinguished institution he did so much to build were never again wholly separable in my mind. My second is of his presiding ably over meetings of the Academic Senate or answering barbed questions at the early All-University Faculty Conferences. He could call every speaker by name, and he could listen with good-natured patience, even to attacks on his own policies. My third is of the grim Year of the Oath, when he found himself caught between an intractable faction of the Regents, and an indignant and increasingly embittered faculty, and an uncomprehending or unsympathetic public. He struggled gallantly and ultimately successfully to save the University. His lasting legacy is the inspired vision of what a great state university can become and what this one partially has become."
I guess that's probably about as close to my version of him as I could reasonably come up with. I don't know what I wrote that for.
Principles or Personal Power Struggles?
LageDavid Gardner [current president of the University], in his book on the loyalty oath [The California Oath Controversy, Berkeley, 1967], said that the controversy over the loyalty oath was not over principles but was a power struggle, "... a series of personal encounters between proud and influential men." Do you agree with that interpretation?
Constance
I think that probably was true about the Regents. I read the book. but I haven't seen it recently enough. I think that agrees with what I said about Neylan and the governors--Warren and Knight. In that sense, it was indeed a series of personal encounters although it had very strong political motives in it. But I think the faculty resistance and unhappiness were clearly a matter of principle. I don't think there's any doubt about that.
One can argue that the non-signers perhaps exaggerated the importance of the thing. A number of them were people of European extraction who had seen fascism in Europe and felt that they had been quiescent when it came up the first time and they should have done something about it. And here it was coming again. So I think it's no accident that quite a few of the non-signers were European-trained. They were also, to some degree. people who liked to make issues of things and who were not about to take something in which they didn't believe. I had great admiration for them. I didn't admire the judgment of all of them, but they certainly had the courage of their conviction. In fact, I was always a little unhappy that I didn't take a stronger position myself. But I just felt I was not in a position to do it. Tolman could afford to; I couldn't.
Lage
Well, I think that was probably true of a lot of people.
Constance
But one of the people mentioned again today was David Saxon. who apparently had seven daughters, I think, at the time, and he refused to sign and was fired. I think he pumped gas, or something of the sort, during part of the time he was out.
Lage
And then came back to the University?
Constance
That's right. One of the interesting post-mortems on the oath was that Kerr eventually prevailed on the Regents to name the building that houses psychology Tolman Hall, after Edward Tolman, who was the leader of the non-signers. My recollection is that Kerr got Catherine Hearst to make the motion!
Lage
[laughing] Wonderful! In reading a few of our oral histories--and I don't remember which one it was in--that was mentioned. It was also mentioned that Kerr felt that it led to a residue of ill feeling toward him, on the Board of Regents.
Constance
It could be. I don't know how many people were still on the Board of Regents at that time who were involved. And, of course, I really don't know the situation in the Regents very well. I was not a visitor to the Regents' meetings at that time. I was sometime later, but even then, you know, you were excluded from the real fights.
Long-Term Divisive Effects of the Oath
LageAnything on long-term effects of the oath that you'd want to say?
Constance
It's very hard to know just what things contributed to it, but I personally felt that, to some extent. it loosened the bonds which I. at least, had always felt between faculty and administration. In other words, as you would say I am a great believer in faculty being involved in administration. I never felt that there was ever any distinction between faculty and administration. A lot of the younger people--people who came later from different backgrounds--probably did not feel this as strongly as I did. But I think the faculty never trusted the administration as fully after the oath as they had before. And when things like the troubles of the sixties came along. there were, if you like. fault lines or zones of weakness which could very easily be exploited. It certainly had continuing effects of divisiveness, but again, it's very hard to pin them down exactly.
Lage
What about effects on recruiting? Would you know of any cases where it was more difficult to get--?
Constance
There were certainly instances in which people flatly refused to join the University. It hurt the University's reputation nationally, without any question. Again, it's awfully hard to document that sort of thing. I remember some discussion somewhere, which I'm sure was second- or third-hand, in which two or three people from other institutions were talking down to a University of California faculty member. One of the people from another institution said to a second. "The only difference is that at California, they fought it, while at yours they all acquiesced without a struggle." [laughter] So there was a little of that--there was some admiration in academic circles. I think that the faculty didn't take it lightly. But I don't think that that compensated--I mean, it should never have happened in the first place because Berkeley did have a faculty that enjoyed more influence than at any other university I know of.
Lage
Were you aware of how the faculty at the other UC campuses felt? Did Berkeley take the main brunt of it?
Constance
Berkeley took the main brunt. UCLA took some. I don't remember. I think there was probably someone on almost every campus. I would guess that something like two-thirds of the
Lage
So it wasn't a case of division between Berkeley and the other campuses?
Constance
No, I don't think so. One would guess that the Davis faculty at that time--it was much closer to the soil and. let's say, the farmers of the state would be much less sympathetic to the Berkeley faculty's attitude, but I don't even know that.
Lage
I was looking at George Stewart's book. which is interesting. written right in the heat of the battle [The Year of the Oath, New York. 1950].
Constance
Yes. well George's. of course, is very much my idea of it. George was a good friend of mine, too, although I didn't know him particularly well at that time, I think.
Lage
He implied a great sense of paranoia--the feeling that phones were being tapped. that certain people were stool pigeons, and--
Constance
Well, there was certainly that; I don't remember the phonetapping sort of thing. Certainly, nobody tapped mine, I'm sure. But there was distress among the faculty.
One of the lines of cleavage: Ernest Lawrence, of course, was the big gun in the physical sciences at the University because of the distinction he had obtained with the cyclotron. I didn't know him well, but he was a very decent person. He was very close to John Francis Neylan and that was pretty much the center of the pro-oath sort of thing. Anybody tied in with that was pretty much a suspect to everybody else.
Lage
Tied in with Lawrence and his group?
Constance
That's right.
Lage
I noticed the reference to "certain scientists".
Constance
Well, Ralph Chaney, who was a paleobotanist, somehow got involved with Lawrence and acted as a kind of stalking horse. I don't know how much Lawrence was involved. I'm sure he deeply deplored it and probably didn't understand or see that it was all that important. But you expect, particularly, the humanists to be shocked at this sort of thing. But it was very erratic. I knew most of the non-signers. Some of them were on the faculty and had very distinguished careers.
One of the things that was most painful--I was on the budget committee at the time, and several young people who were not tenured were non-signers. They came up for tenure review, and it was very difficult because nobody wanted to turn them down. Yet some of them were clearly born losers, and this produced a lot of hard feelings. I remember we went to great lengths to try to get away from the political cleavage here, and if we could get a really liberal committee to say no, we knew we were doing all right. And I think, by and large, we were successful; but it made the whole business of judging faculty and all sorts of other judgments very difficult for some years. So, I'd say it hurt the University externally, it hurt the University internally. There was no excuse for it in the first place. But we survived it.
Lage
How long before it was just sort of forgotten?
Constance
The moment that you bring it up to the faculty in my group, you immediately get the adrenal glands flowing. In fact, I tried it out today at lunch--a couple of people who were there then still feel strongly. So I suppose that, say, the sixties put it out of our minds. But I think it did the institution quite a bit of damage. Tough institution, though.
Lage
Did it increase faculty self-government at all? Did it bring back new interest in becoming active in governance affairs?
Constance
I'm really not sure. I would say it was overshadowed, really, by the great and rapid influx of new people at about that time. People were basically back here after the war by 1945-46. This was 1950-52. The old unity was pretty much superseded partly by the oath, perhaps even more by the influx of people who were not familiar with it. Let's see, Sproul retired in '58. It was kind of a new ball game, I suppose, so it would be pretty hard to say just when it faded out. I would say there were still repercussions for ten years, but maybe not major ones.
X Service On Academic Senate Committees
The Senate Editorial Committee--Advising the University Press
LageWe should talk more about the budget committee, I think. Does that fit into the chronology here?
Constance
Okay. I think we can probably talk about my Academic Senate committee activities--probably that is the best way to get at this.
My recollection is that the first Academic Senate Committee I served on was probably the Editorial Committee in about 1948. That's as soon as I came back from my year at Harvard. I think that my departmental chairman decided, although nobody here had ever recognized it, that if Harvard thought I had some administrative talent, maybe they better take advantage of it. So I believe I was recommended to serve on the committee for research before I went to Harvard; but the invitation had not been issued so I didn't have to respond to it. So I never served on a research committee--I heard about that afterward. But I think I did go on to the Academic Senate Editorial Committee. And, indeed, the Editorial Committee is something that I served on, off and on, really almost up until my retirement. I noticed I was on it in '71-'72. I served on it, I believe, for a year at that time.
I remember we had something like five committee members from Berkeley and three from UCLA and that was it. We operated for the entire university faculty.
Lage
Did you meet together with UCLA faculty?
Constance
Yes. My recollection is that at that time, we always met up here because that's where the majority of us and the office of the press, were. My recollection of the makeup of the committee was as follows: Theodore McCown, of anthropology as chairman; Arthur Hutson of English, Ronald Walpole of French, and James
Lage
And what does it basically do?
Constance
The University Press was originally organized to publish the scholarly productions of the faculty, and it did this by publishing a number of so-called series. There were series in different biological sciences and history and English--all sorts of things.
Over the course of time, the nature of the press changed so that, now, university presses are simply scholarly publishing houses. They do not feel any particular affinity for the faculty of the institution with which they are associated. In fact, if anything, they sometimes feel a hostility toward it. They're always afraid they're going to be pushed into publishing something they don't want to because somebody at that particular university wrote it. At one point, the University Press was involved in publishing university documents and so on, but that job was shunted off many years ago to the university printing office, or whatever they call it. So basically, it's a publishing house, but with an emphasis on scholarly books.
The Editorial Committee is the only agency that can authorize the use of the University's imprint. In other words, the director of the press and his staff cannot publish anything under the University of California aegis without the concurrence of the Editorial Committee. So what the Editorial Committee basically does is read manuscripts. These manuscripts are also reviewed by outside readers either suggested by the staff or by the committee or both. At least when I was concerned with it (and I think it still is the case), every manuscript was discussed--sometimes ad infinitum. So it's a fairly scholarly apparatus.
Lage
And was the Editorial Committee really the decision-making body or did the press--?
Constance
It was the decision-making body, period.
Lage
Period.
Constance
That's right.
Lage
I wonder if that has changed over time.
Constance
I don't believe so. Now, the different editors, who are members of the staff, may very well discourage manuscripts they don't like the looks of from ever getting to that point.
Lage
They seemed more concerned with profitability now.
Constance
I don't know. I think probably one would say that they are concerned with making the losses as little cataclysmic as possible. But it's only once in a decade that something like Theodora Kroeber's Ishi comes along. which turns out to be a best-seller. I don't think the University Press has ever approved anything on the grounds that it probably wouldn't be a best-seller. They certainly have discouraged things that they didn't think they could manage to get into more than three libraries. They have to keep some kind of balance; but the general view, at least when I was concerned with it (which, as I said, was over a twenty-year period at least. off and on). was that they published things that were of true value and that the chips had to fall where they might.
Lage
Were you on the committee during the time of the transition from publishing primarily University faculty?
Constance
Yes. In fact, I was always an exponent of their continuing to publish some of the series in fields where I thought that kind of publication was appropriate, which, it happens. includes my own, but it's considerably broader than that.
Over time, as it became easier to publish things as books, a great many of the series simply went out of business for lack of interest. But there still were, and still are, fields in which this kind of publication is the accepted way to go. I became a champion of that aspect of it and, several times, sponsored revisions to the rules, to keep them going.
Lage
And did you succeed?
Constance
I succeeded as long as I was on the committee. I'm not quite sure where it is now. But the last I knew, they were still following the Constance plan on series as late as something like '75, shall we say. I was on it for 1948, and then I was asked to replace at least two other committee members who died later on. So I was on it intermittently over a series of years.
Lage
And did you work closely with the head of the press? Would you have worked with August Fruge?
Constance
I know August very well. I never chaired the committee. I knew the various committee members well, as I went along. When I went off the last time I managed to get one of my
##
The Budget Committee:
Jurisdiction over UCSF and UC Davis Budgetary Affairs
Constance
Then in 1949-50, I went on the Academic Senate Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Relations.
Lage
And you became chairman of it in 1950?
Constance
The first year I was on it, the chairman was Malcolm Davisson and the others whom I recall were Robert Brode of physics, Harry Wellman of agricultural economics, Willard Farnham of English, and I think there must have been another member, but I can't recall who it might have been.
Obviously, this was an exploratory year for me. We actually served as a faculty personnel committee. We were the senate's voice to consult with the President on all appointments and promotions. We also voted on salary increases. We looked into things we were asked to look into; we also looked into anything we thought needed to be looked into.
Lage
Having to do with budget--?
Constance
That's right. We also, I should say. represented the Northern Section of the Academic Senate, and we had jurisdiction over the Davis and San Francisco campuses. as well as Berkeley.
Lage
And you must have had some representation from them.
Constance
We did not at that point.
Lage
No representation? That must have made for ill-feelings.
Constance
At that point. We divided up the budget in different areas. By some miscue of fate I got the budget of the university's medical school at San Francisco. This apparently was the first time that any budget committee had ever looked at it, and it was a mess.
Lage
Had the others just overlooked it on purpose, do you think? Did they not want to interfere?
Constance
It may never have come to them. It may well be that it was settled between the President and the San Francisco campus--I don't know. The San Francisco campus was run as, shall we say, an oligarchy, maybe? It probably wasn't a complete dictatorship. But we found all sorts of things that were contrary to University practice. We found ladies who had been on non-faculty, non-tenure appointments for at least ten, fifteen years--and they were supposedly limited to eight--and a whole series of things which seemed to us to be transgressions of all that was a good. pure, and proper in the university system. I was not one to pull my punches. And, while nobody ever told me so, I suspect it created a hell of a furor.
At any rate, Davisson seemed to be able to handle this. Then, as I think I mentioned. he was siphoned off to represent the faculty in the oath controversy, and Brode became chairman. Brode, I think it would be fair to say, was really a militantly independent faculty member--a very fine person. We often used to disagree because of the our different points of view. He used to pull out a slide rule and say, "Classics doesn't deserve more than one professor of Greek because they've only had so many students," and so on. I would come back and say, "Look Bob, I don't give a damn how many students they've got. A university that's worth a hoot in hell has to have a strong classics department and you can't do it on the slide rule." So. we argued a lot.
Malcolm Davisson stayed as chairman of the committee for the rest of that year (I went on in January), but the next year Brode was chairman, and that year we got along beautifully. I think he was so impressed with my operating on the medical school budget that he gave me the Davis campus budget.
Lage
To create more friendships.
Constance
That's right. At the same time, they put John Saunders. who later became chancellor of the San Francisco campus, on the committee, so I got rid of the medical school. They got themselves put in order by someone who was really competent to do it.
The Question of Academic Titles for Davis Personnel
ConstanceAgain. I had a very interesting assignment because this was just at the point when it had been decided that each of the campuses would have its own committee structure. So there was to be a Davis budget committee. This was a little like the--what did the British call it? It was a "shadow committee".
Lage
What were the differences?
Constance
Davis had a relatively unique situation. It had started as an agricultural experiment station, I suppose largely because land was cheaper in the Sacramento Valley than it was in Berkeley. So for many years, it was just that--it was an experiment station. It worked very closely with the county agents, and they gave short courses for farmers and so on. There was relatively little teaching of a university type. It was a short-course, extension sort of thing which was obviously very important; but, it wasn't really the thing that universities were made of. So most of the people had titles in the experiment station, but did not have academic titles--a few of them did. Since they were very scarce, they were very desirable, and everybody wanted an academic title.
The faculty of the Davis campus felt terribly put-upon because they didn't all have academic titles, and they would use all kinds of devices to try to get them. They would assign three people to teach one one-semester course, and they all wanted academic titles although it was a two-unit course. which obviously meant there would be a very minimum involvement in teaching. And then a lot of them were teaching a short course sort of thing to people who probably couldn't have qualified to enter the University. anyway.
So the general feeling of Berkeley people, which probably was not shared by Davis people, was that most of these Davis people were simply not entitled by the terms of their activities to have academic titles. There was a strong feeling on the part of the Davis people that Berkeley, which was directly identified with anything unpleasant, was preventing them from getting academic titles. which would add directly to their prestige. So there was a very strong push on the part of some of the Davis faculty that, as soon as they got out from under the jurisdiction of the Northern Division committee--which was Berkeley--that they then were going to give academic titles a lot more liberally than had been the case in the past. There were passionate speeches at Academic Senate meetings and so on, because there was a Northern Division of the Academic Senate,
But I became very well acquainted with the people on the Davis committees. I think all of them have now had buildings at Davis named for them; it's very nostalgic when I get up there.
Lage
Would their decisions have to be approved by your committee anymore?
Constance
No, they would not after the next year. They would go directly to the President. I said, "Look, I know there's a lot of pressure on you to do this, and there's nobody to stop you if you want to do it. But I think before you do it, you ought to realize that the people who have really held the line are some of the most distinguished faculty members you have."
Lage
How about Wellman--how did he feel about that?
Constance
He was not on the budget committee any more; he was only on it my first year and he refused to be chairman. I think he became director of the Giannini Foundation at that time or he was already amply loaded with committee assignments.
I'm sure that I had support from Claude Hutchison, who was the vice-president for agriculture statewide. At all events, the Davis committee basically adhered to our standards, and didn't give in to the pressure. In fact, one of the provosts told me later, "They were worse than you were!" So we really felt the transition was very successful.
Lage
Was there a thought at that time of their broadening to a liberal arts college, or did that come a bit later?
Constance
It came later [1959]. I'm sure there was thought about it, but most of these things were not seriously thought about until Sproul's retirement. I think it would be fair to say. Later, I did serve on the search committee for a chancellor, so I learned a lot about it.
One of the things, incidentally, that Sproul did that I think was very good in his later years, was to inaugurate an All-University Faculty Conference, which was held on different campuses. [looking at some documents] I see that he asked me to be a delegate to the fifth conference. This was dated 1950; they must have started about 1945.
Lage
Was that an attempt to provide more unity to the various campuses?
Constance
Yes. And he was awfully good at it. He'd have a question period, I think. at the end of things. over which he presided. He'd take any question from anybody on anything and handle them in a masterful way. He was very good at that sort of thing.
Budget Committee Chairman during Campus Transition
ConstanceWhy don't we go on with the budget committee? The sort of normal sequence, if you didn't think of an excuse to get off earlier, was to serve two years as a committee member and a third as chairman. So I did that and at that point, Kerr came in as chancellor.
Lage
That was '52?
Constance
That was '52. I was asked if I would serve an additional year as budget committee chairman. I remember Davis saying, "Sproul makes great use of the budget committee because he thinks it's a good idea. Kerr will also, because he believes in it." [laughter] I think you asked some place where the budget committee came in in its decisions and recommendations. You always have to remember--I always point this out--that the President was instructed by the Regents to consult with the faculty, and we were the faculty's consulting arm in this business. Our opinions, our recommendations, were always advisory; there was never any question that the administration could ignore our recommendations if it wished. But I think that the administration followed our recommendations well over ninety percent of the time. So, as far as most of the faculty was concerned, they felt we had made the decision. I learned later that UCLA's budget committee didn't have that high a batting average.
Lage
With Sproul?
Constance
With Sproul. yes. At any rate, he took us very seriously. Even after I was off the budget committee, Sproul called me up about some faculty matter. He said. "I'm being pressured very strongly for a promotion. and I see the committee is divided. I really don't know what to do about it. What do you advise?" I said, "The only thing the committee agreed on was that it was premature." I said I thought that that would probably be a fairly safe position to take. and he took it.
Special Problems of the School of Nursing
ConstanceHe had regental pressure on him. There was pressure from the School of Nursing. The School of Nursing was the epitomy of the plight of a largely women's group--or exclusively women's group--in a very macho male community. I don't think it would be unfair to say that the prevalent state of mind of most male physicians was that nurses ought to be happy emptying bedpans and smiling while they're doing it, damn it. and bring back some coffee on the way. [laughter] That may be overstating it a little, but not too much.
The subject of nursing. I would say, is very hard to detect a field of scholarship in. In fact, I don't know anybody who ever really succeeded in doing it. So, since the budget committee automatically investigated cases where there had been no change in status for the normal period (three years, or even five). we would reinvestigate. We'd appoint committees and the committees would split or come in with a negative report.
Lage
Now this would be for someone to get reappointed?
Constance
For advancement, for tenure.
Lage
Were they professors?
Constance
They were instructors. assistant professors. and usually the chairman would be a professor; but it was awfully tough-going for them.
Lage
Because they didn't publish research?
Constance
Well. it is not an academic field, is what you actually come down to. If you tried to make it an academic field. the physicians were really huffy because you were invading their territory. They used to write theses on the curriculum for the School of Nursing at Minnesota State College. or something like that. It was just awfully hard to make something out of that. I remember Sproul--I think it was a different occasion--called again, I think. when I was off the committee. He said. "What am I going to do about the School of Nursing?" and I said. "Look. you're always going to have this problem as long as you have an external committee looking at this thing. He said, "Well, I wish your committee would tell me what to do about it." But there wasn't much of anything you could do about it. really. It was just one of those things.
Lage
Could they have devised different criteria for the School of Nursing?
Constance
They probably should not have given professorial appointments, I suppose. I don't know; it's hard to say. They really were more at the technical level. I was on the advisory committee for the School of Nursing at one time or another. But it was very tough, because their faculty weren't really trained for an academic role. The only thing they could do was to teach other nurses to teach other nurses to teach other nurses. It was one of these very unfortunate things. But the real problem was that there wasn't a basic field of scholarship there. Certainly, there is something to patient care, but it's awfully hard to find a really academic. really scientific field in that.
Lage
It's clinical.
Constance
It's pretty much clinical, that's right, and clinical's always a problem too. So much for the budget committee. I did serve on it for four years--two years as a chairman.
The Promotion Process
LageI have a few more questions on the budget committee.
Constance
Go ahead.
Lage
I want to get the general idea of how you reviewed faculty appointments--how they came up. and whether you listened to the departments as much as Sproul listened to you. and so on.
Constance
All appointments originated at the departmental level. Exactly how the department arrived at its recommendations was not always all that clear. In the better-governed departments, according to my way of thinking. particularly the larger ones, there would be a specific committee. an ad hoc committee appointed from the faculty members. Having, I presume, decided where an appointment should be made, they would come up with a list of candidates, look into their writings, get other information about them, and probably make a report to the faculty as a whole.
Certainly there were some departments in which the chairman did this himself. That was generally frowned-upon by people like me who felt that the responsibility should be more widely spread. The recommendation would go from the department to the dean of whatever college or school was involved. It would then be forwarded, originally to the President's Office, later [after 1952] to the Chancellor's Office. The budget committee would be notified and asked to react. normally; but there are all sorts of variations possible on these things. Where an administrative
Lage
So every promotion or appointment had a committee to review it?
Constance
That's generally true. There has been some modification of that in recent years. I think, perhaps. they don't do as much reviewing in the early stages, now, by committee; I'm not quite sure. Certainly, advancement to tenure is a time of review.
Lage
And then in choosing the committee, what did you think about? Who you might get to serve, or--?
Constance
We never thought about that. We thought about the people who were best qualified. We assumed they would serve.
Lage
And was that the case?
Constance
Almost unanimously so. People very rarely ducked out of it. I remember one potential committee member calling me and saying, "I feel that when I'm called upon I should do my duty." This was the general faculty attitude. He said, "In this case, I just don't think I can be objective. You see, the candidate was married to my sister. and there was a messy divorce." I said, "I don't think you need to tell me any more."
Overall. it was pretty rare for a faculty member to refuse to serve. Again. I haven't followed it in recent years. I gather it's progressively more difficult. But, of course. the character of the faculty has changed a great deal--partly as a matter of size, partly as a matter of, I suppose, different priorities would be the nice way to put it.
Lage
One thing that occurred to me is probably something you just accept, but it's what you say and hear about the vision of the University. What kind of a vision was there as you were deciding who to promote and who to hire? You know, the difference between somebody who was competent and somebody who really had qualities of excellence.
Constance
We had to rely primarily on the recommendations we got. And this goes on through the whole business. I think that I. at least (I don't know how many people I want to try speak for)--My feeling has always been that the University is strongest if it appoints the best young people it can get and gives them good support. I don't like the system, by and large, of looking for stars, which Harvard made a great deal of. and the University of Texas has been using in recent years.
But I think the kind of unity it seems to me we once had on the faculty arose in large measure from this way of going at things. Now, there's no question that you can't have a purely home-grown institution, because if you aren't careful, you get an internal old-boy network, and the whole thing stagnates. You need to bring in people from time to time. You have to keep examining yourself to be sure you're not developing weaknesses; and when you discover that you have, you may have to make some senior appointments to get away from it. But I don't think that the system of simply so to speak, combing the journals for upcoming stars is any way to build a strong university. But, as I say, Harvard has been very successful with it.
##
Faculty Role in University Governance
ConstanceSometime in the fifties, I guess, the late Professor Joseph Harris, who was in the Department of Political Science, was asked to look at the University's committee structure and see if this is the way these things ought to be done. And I take it that I was chairman of the budget committee at the time and wrote this account of it to him. [reads letter to Professor Joseph P. Harris; see following page]
Lage
It seems to indicate that there was some ill-feeling toward the budget committee, I would say.
Constance
Every new professional dean that arrived objected to the budget committee. I remember--
Lage
Deans of the professional schools, this would be?
Constance
That's right. And there were various moves to take the different professional schools out from under the budget committee. The one successful move was accomplished by the School of Law. The budget committee--I think, when Brode was chairman--met with Bill Wurster, who was the dean of what's now the College of Environmental Design and Bill Prosser, who was dean of the School of Law. We thought that this would aid relations. They were not used to working with a faculty group of this sort, and to some degree, they felt it was an imposition. They felt they should to be able to go directly to the President or the Chancellor. And I suppose, probably. the Chancellor may have encouraged their meeting together.
They had given us recommendations for faculty appointments almost completely devoid of any documentation at all. They were prone to recommend appointments at above-scale salaries of fifty or twenty-five thousand. which were not in the cards at that time. And no documentation whatever excepting. "I say he's the best man in the country--we've got to have him!"
The dean of the School of Law came in with the names of people he would like to appoint, and he had on it the name of substantially every dean of a major law school in this country.
Lage
--who he wanted to appoint as faculty here?
Constance
That's right. And the dean of Environmental Design came in with pretty much the same sort of thing. I remember Brode, who was a scientist and very objective about things, kept probing Wurster and saying. "Well, all right, these people are all distinguished architects; but. you know, there are an awful lot of good architects out there. How do you decide which architects you would like to have in your faculty as opposed to others?" And Wurster sputtered and finally said. "It's soul!"
Lage
Soul?
Constance
Well, we couldn't do very much with that. But we insisted that when he recommended an appointment. we should have some documentation. and that he get letters for us. So he sent in, in one case I think, something like fifty letters from his cronies around the country, the general gist of which were about two lines that said, "If Bill Wurster says he wants it, you should let him have it." So we let him have it, all right.
Lage
Did he get the people?
Constance
Not very many.
Lage
So was this a case where he wanted more appointments than you thought were warranted?
Constance
There were certainly more appointments than warranted. no real evidence of a rational plan. no evidence of consideration of what the rest of the university was going to run on while they were doing their thing. and so on. The constraining role of the budget committee was a common complaint of the professional deans.
Lage
I discussed this somewhat with Henry Vaux. who was quite understanding--
Constance
Which way?
Dear Professor Harris:
I welcome your invitation to comment on your recent memorandum with regard to the Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Relations. Inasmuch as I shall be away from the campus next semester, I hope you will not object to my making a rather broader reply than the immediate memorandum, itself, may seem to indicate.
The University of California possesses a system of government in which the general faculty, through the committees of the Academic Senate, enjoys a degree of influence unprecedented, to my knowledge, among American universities. It is a matter of pained surprise to me that most proposals to "reorganize" procedures here appear to have as their objective the weakening rather than the strengthening of this faculty role. That such an impulse should come from some deans and chairmen, particularly those who are relatively new to the University of California and accustomed to systems wherein administrative officers enjoy a very large measure of autonomy, is not difficult to understand. But why it should also enjoy some support among the faculty at large, I find incomprehensible. It would appear that some faculty members would prefer being told what to do rather than to exercise the role of constructive academic citizenship which the University of California system expects of them.
Complaints against such active faculty participation in academic government usually allege that it is unorthodox, time-consuming, capricious, largely uninformed, and irresponsible. Conversely, it would be assumed that more orthodox academic control solely by professional administrators is speedy, consistent, all-wise, and fully responsible. From my own limited experience with three large institutions, in two of which the faculty had essentially no role in the determination of affairs above the departmental level, I have found no basis for such a comparison. On the contrary, I find no indication that either faculty or Administration has a monopoly upon good judgment, freedom from error, or devotion to the welfare of the institution. Maintenance of the high standards of an institution demands the vigilence and effort of both faculty and Administration.
The unique aspect of the University of California system is that it has all the usual administrative officers and channels and, in addition, a mechanism whereby the administrator faced with decisions may also secure advice from regularly constituted faculty committees quite independent of the regular administrative chain-of-command. It would appear to be only sensible that any administrator should enjoy full freedom to secure counsel wherever he thinks he can obtain it. And yet, the effect of a number of proposals put forward in recent years, some of them by faculty groups, has been in the direction of limiting the advisory role of the Senate Committees, or seeing to it that their advice reaches the administrator so late, or in such general terms, that he will be less inclined to consider it with any seriousness. The assumption seems to be that "good government" lies only along the regular administrative channels, and that advice from any other source is apt to be uninformed and irresponsible. As a palpable sop, it is suggested that the Senate Committees forego their work with "minor details," which will be delegated to sub-deans, budget officers,
As concerns the Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Relations, the criticism seems to be that, although it obtains its information only from the written record and concentrates too much on "minor details," it is economy-minded, and its advice is taken so seriously by (some) deans and higher administrative officers, that it results in chairman and (some) deans failing to get what they want. The implication is that the chairmen and (some) deans could get what they want if there were only the normal administrative channels to deal with, but that "irresponsible" from the Budget Committee constitutes a frustrating and insurmountable obstacle. (If this advice is uninformed and capricious, it is difficult to see why any administrator attaches importance to it!)
During recent years, the Budget Committee has recommended both decreases and increases every year. If it has rather more frequently supported the former than the latter, this is because of: (1) the trend of Legislative climate with regard to the University budget; (2) the fact that the Budget Committee has more recent information from the office of the President and/or the Chancellor as to the level of expenditure the Administration will support; (3) the fact that some recommending officers fail to recognize the existence of any budgetary ceiling whatever. Under present conditions, without some equalization of sacrifice, it is more than likely that the basic and less aggressive departments would suffer in comparison with the shinier and more spectacular activities, which sometimes come equipped with their own, highly vocal, pressure-groups. Such a function is of both administrative and faculty concern, since distribution of funds profoundly influences the form and quality of the whole institution. It seems to me that the faculty, through the Budget Committee, should have an important voice in the equalizing process.
Whereas the Budget Committee frequently does consult with recommending officers about their budgets, it is to be assumed that every budgetary request should stand/or fall on the basis of the documentation provided. I should agree that there might well be freer and franker two-way discussion up and down the present administrative channels, and I understand that the Chancellor is taking steps to bring this about. This, however, is an administrative matter and not a direct concern of the Academic Senate. I should be inclined to think that the same thing is true of the precise organization of the office of the Dean of the College of Letters and Science.
I should like to re-emphasize one common misconception: the Budget Committee makes no administrative decisions! Decisions are made only by administrative officers. Since the Budget Committee only presents advice to the administrative officer, there is no violation of the principle that responsibility for results should go with budget decisions. It is of the utmost importance, in my opinion, that the committees of the Academic Senate keep themselves out of the administrative chain-of-command, but that the Administration should always be able to turn to them for carefully considered, independent advice, which is based primarily on concern for high academic standards unmodified by the expediency which administrator customarily find themselves bound to need.
At just what step in the budgetary procedure the advice of the administrator depends upon when it would be most useful to him and when he would me most inclined to give it weight. Most deans have not, I believe, welcomed the idea of a faculty committee having an opportunity to examine their comments on the recommendations of the departmental chairmen. Others have not indicated any such reservations; and still others, I suspect, do not give any weight at all to Budget Committee comments and recommendations.
Specifically, I believe the chief concern of the Academic Senate and of its Reorganization Committee should be that the advice of the Budget Committee be of the kind found most useful by the decision-making administrator, and that it should be available to him when he most needs it. To violate either or these common-sense points would be to substantially diminish the influence of the faculty in the whole budget-making process.
Sincerely,
Lincoln Constance
Of the budget committee's point of view, but also his own needs in the School of Forestry.
Constance
Oh. sure. Anybody that worked on both sides of the street, as I did later, knows there's something to be said on both sides. But I still think the budget committee is simply one of the greatest things we have going for us.
Lage
His point was that it was difficult when he needed to appoint somebody in a field that was professional--that required professional competence--to get the budget committee to understand somebody's excellence.
Constance
That's quite right. The thing is that there's no question that the budget committee system worked best in relatively "pure" academic areas. When you got into the professional areas, it was more difficult. The law school was a very difficult one, no question about it, because the prevailing salaries in the legal profession go far beyond the University's. and it would be very difficult to build a really first-rate law school without granting above-scale salaries. But I don't think the way either of the deans was going about it was any way to build one either. Be that as it may, I still stick by my guns. I think that it basically was and is a sound system.
Lage
How did the people on the budget committee--just being faculty members in various departments--develop this broad view of what the University needed?
Constance
We learned fast. Ideally, they had the same kinds of considerations within their own departments. If the department was democratically run, they had participated in these kinds of decisions. I mentioned the budget committee nominated ad hoc review committees. and they had served on that sort of thing. Partly. it was inbred, it was observed, it was produced by experience, by discussions with other people involved. and so on. It seems to me that any academic could do it, if he got his mind out of his particular field. These people were very carefully chosen by a committee of their colleagues. who were elected. You see, this is the democratic end of it because all committee appointments of the Academic Senate committees are made by an elected Committee on Committees. At one time, I served on the Committee on Committees. Somewhere in these papers I found the notice of my election.
Lage
And that was actually elected by mail vote of the faculty?
Constance
That's right--all the faculty that voted. anyway. [finding what he is looking for] Ah. here we are. [reads] "Nineteen fifty-three, the result of the recent election was as follows: 942
Lage
[laughing] You were supposed to be an unpopular figure?
Constance
I wasn't popular with everybody, including some of the deans, but basically I got along all right with them.
Lage
What about with different departments that you had to deny requests for--or advise against, I guess we should say--?
Constance
That's right--we advised against. And. as I said, something over ninety percent of the time, our advice was taken. We didn't do it idly.
In the first place, the budget committee had the best records, I think, of anybody on campus. and they were cumulative. By the time a faculty member had worked his way up the ladder to associate professor, we had comments that had been made at each of his salary steps, for his tenure promotion, and so on. So we really knew quite a lot about him. So I don't think we made very many internal mistakes. The mistakes we made internally were probably being too easy rather than too tough. In my administrative career, the worst mistakes I made were going against my better judgment and being too easy.
Lage
Earlier you mentioned a faculty member whose failure to get tenure was controversial.
Constance
Well, one of the common phenomena that, of course, is a little derogatory to students, but has at least a little bit of wormood in it, but also a bit of truth to it, is this: the students are dying to come to the University because of its great distinction. As soon as they get here, they do their best to transform it into a junior college they will be happy with, and all the things that make the University important, and its cachet of value, they would destroy (an overstatement, obviously).
But there are certain faculty members. from time to time, usually those with some gift of gab. who often are quite fancy lecturers, but who aren't anything else because they have nothing else to back them up. The students see the glitter and very often the instructors. professors, or whatever they are recognize that they're not all that important to their colleagues. They find the students are a much more sympathetic audience, and so they play to it for all they're worth.
So when they are reviewed by their colleagues, their colleagues often say, "Well. the teaching presentation is obviously very popular, and it may even be very good. But we
Of course, a common student response is that his colleagues are mad because he's getting all the students; therefore, they're out to cut his throat. People being human, undoubtedly there is some element of truth in it in some instances. But I think that, in general, the budget committee-ad hoc committee combination tends to get away from that. That's probably the best insurance you could get; you can never be absolutely sure. Certainly, some people have been dinged, perhaps, improperly. But I think that on the whole it has usually worked out pretty well.
But you see, I'm an advocate of faculty government, and I think it works out much better than an administrator could do alone. And I say this because I was an administrator for ten years, and I think I know what I'm talking about. During that time, of course, I reviewed all the appointments and promotions in Letters and Science for seven years and all those on campus for three years. I worked closely with the budget committee, did not always agree with them when I was in an administrative position, but I wouldn't do anything without them.
Lage
If you didn't agree with them, did you turn down their advice?
Constance
I never was in the position of making the final decision. I'm not sure whether the Chancellor ever overrode my advice when I was vice-chancellor or not. I would not have objected if he had, but the times when I disagreed with the budget committee were so rare that it really didn't amount to anything.
When I became dean of Letters and Science, incidentally, I insisted that I should see the budget committee's recommendations before I made mine. That was objected to by some of the other faculty members and some of the other deans because they didn't have that privilege. On the other hand, I had fifty-odd departments and they had one or two. And I found the budget committee advice overwhelmingly important. As I said, the only times I think I probably was wrong was when I didn't follow my own hunches and say "NO" in a few cases. I would think, "Ten people have looked at this. Who am I to say that my judgment is better than theirs?" Unless I really had very strong reasons. I went along with committee decisions. That's what you have to do if you have a democratic system and you believe in it.
Lage
But were there times you were sorry later?
Constance
Yes, a few, but relatively few.
Lage
[laughs] I think we should finish up for today.
Constance
Is there anything that we need to clean up at this point?
Lage
To wind up our discussion on the budget committee, we should talk about the effect of Clark Kerr coming in as Chancellor.
Constance
Well, I think probably the only thing that you can say about it, really, is that Kerr indeed did use the budget committee, at least as conscientiously as Sproul had. As chairman of the budget committee, in that fourth year--my second year as chairman--I got to know him very well, and that is probably why I got involved in administration later.
XI The Early Fifties: Administration and Addresses
[Interview 5: February 27, 1986] ##
Relationship with Clark Kerr
LageWe're going to start today with a discussion about Clark Kerr and your work with him. You covered quite a time span. We'll probably elaborate more when we get into the period of the L & S deanship.
Constance
Well, it's part of it, really. Obviously my tenure in administration is a kind of a block in the middle of the road, so you can't go around it. It comes into almost any discussion, I think.
My relationship with Clark Kerr, my acquaintance with him, really dates from my experience as a member of the budget committee. I just ran into--I don't think I've mentioned before--the notice of my appointment on December 14, 1948. I was to replace Ken Pitzer, who took leave from the university to accept a position with the Atomic Energy Commission. At the same time, Robert Brode. who died just recently, also came on the committee as a replacement.
I served four years on the committee. I think it probably was my second or third year on the committee that I met with the Committee on Privilege and Tenure, which Dr. Kerr chaired. As far as I can recall, that was my first direct acquaintance with him. I just uncovered, in looking in my files, a letter from Murray Benedict--who served on the budget committee, at least a couple of years with me--who was then in Washington D. C., and he refers in a letter of February 6, 1952, to the appointment of Kerr as chancellor. He says, "I'm really quite delighted about the selection that has been made, though I had not previously thought of Kerr in this connection. My contact with him has been less intimate than with some of the others who are under consideration. I believe, however, I would put him about at the
Benedict was quite conservative, but a very fine person in whom I had a great deal of confidence. So I think I was probably predisposed to be pleased with the appointment, even though I, again, knew some of the other people considerably better than I did Kerr.
Lage
You say you knew who was being considered. Did everybody know who was being considered and have some say in it, or how did that work?
Constance
There's no doubt that there were discussions of who was being considered; whether any of it was official or not, I don't know. I was not involved in any direct way that I can recall. So I suspect that maybe it was just faculty conversation. Such matters are usualy discussed, and newspapers often pick it up and send up a few trial balloons, and so on. I don't remember very much discussion about it. But Kerr, who was the head of the Institute of Industrial Relations, was very well-known in some parts of the campus but probably less in mine, let's say, in the scientific area.
Lage
Had he become somewhat well-known in the loyalty oath dispute?
Constance
Indeed he was, and of course he won great respect from the faculty because he defended the faculty very strongly, if unsuccessfully. I remember that he told the Regents, "You're not catching Communists; what you're doing is imprisoning the free spirit of the faculty," which, as a statement, is rather hard to beat, I think.
Looking in my own files, the first item I find from Kerr was dated May 29, 1953, congratulating me on receiving a Guggenheim Fellowship for 1953. He says [reading], "This will mean a well-deserved year of research for you after the heavy obligations of your service as chairman of the budget committee. I hope the South American flora will prove as alluring, in fact, as is the vague memory of Dorothy Lamour movies, which the words conjure up. With all best wishes, Clark." Perhaps I should say that that was at the end of my second year as chairman of the
Lage
Last time, we talked about the budget committee, and then we looked at the reference to the Academic Advisory Council and the coordinating committee. Do you recall working with Kerr in those capacities?
Constance
That's correct. I was involved with both the AAC [Academic Advisory Committee] and the CAAC [Chancellor's Advisory Administrative Council]. I'm trying to sort this thing out so that it makes sense. I find a letter which I wrote to Kerr in September 1953. "With regard to a question raised by the President as to whether the chairman of the budget committee should be on eleven months' appointment during his term of service, I believe I shall have to maintain the same position I have in the past in regard to such arrangements. You may recall that I unsuccessfully advocated the departmental chairman not be put on eleven months' appointment, and this matter was discussed in the Chancellor's Academic Advisory Council." This was the 29th of September, so Kerr was in office.
"In the latter case, I suppose that a chairman of the department is more nearly a part of the administration than is the chairman of the budget committee. Basis for my view is the perhaps rather idealistic position that no extra compensation should be paid for services rendered by a member of the faculty to a colleague. In arguing against an increase in stipend for the chairman of the budget committee. it seems to me that granting monetary advantage would have two undesirable tendencies: one. to perpetuate the chairman in office for too long a term, and two, what is really another aspect of the same thing--to make committee chairmanship a career in itself. I firmly believe that all members of the faculty should be active scholars, insofar as possible. and that, unless they go completely into administrative work. they continue to have an obligation to scholarship in their field. If greater financial awards come to be attainable in a number of other ways. there will always be a tendency for individuals to bypass scholarship.
"As I have told the CAAC, this is an idealistic and perhaps unrealistic position. The university seems to me to be moving steadily and rapidly in the direction of eleven months' appointment for everyone. At least there's no certain rhyme or reason in the present division of terms of appointment. There's no question in my mind that the chairman of the budget committee must actually serve an eleven month period or more. However, his responsibility is peculiarly toward his colleagues on the
What that seems to say is that. yes indeed. as chairman of the budget committee, I did. from the beginning of its organization, serve on the CAAC. with the others members of the group, who were primarily deans. My role, as I recall, was in large measure to assist in the process of informing the deans, because the CAAC was largely an informational thing. As I think I've said earlier, President Sproul really preferred to deal individually with the deans. Kerr preferred to deal with them as a collectivity, so to speak. Not that he didn't, of course, have contact with deans individually, but he wanted to equalize things and treat them essentially all the same way. which often wasn't possible because the responsibilities of the different deans varied so widely.
I find a note written to me by Kerr on March 26, 1954. I probably received it in South America. It says, "Dear Lincoln, I was very pleased to receive your card and to learn you've given up trying to set the world on fire." That's private joke. "Climbing a volcano sounds strenuous, but no more so, I assure you, than pouring water or gasoline, as the case may be, on sparks which fly on campus. I suppose none of our current grievances can be characterized as `unusual'. for my perception of what constitutes `unusual' grows dimmer with experience. You might be interested to know that we now have an addition to CAAC--a new group, also called CAAC. for purposes of general confusion. This is the Chancellor's Academic Advisory Committee, made up of several key deans and senate committee chairmen to consider broad topics which cut across budget, educational policy, physical planning. and other major areas. We've also set up a committee on criteria to consider qualitative measures so as to forestall imposition of rigid quantitative standards. Life sure is busy. I envy you your locale. even without palm trees or Dorothy Lamour. Best regards, Clark Kerr."
Lage
So you did keep in touch while you were on your sabbatical.
Constance
Yes. Not much, but some.
Lage
It makes it sound like that chancellor's advisory committee was new at that time.
Constance
That's right, March '54, so apparently it was set up--well, I don't know quite when it was set up--in the '53-'54 year, which is the year I was on sabbatical.
Lage
Had that been discussed before, or did you just receive the letter?
Constance
No. He wrote and asked me. The occasion of the other letter was, I think. when I got to Puerto Montt, which is in south Chile. The farther south I got, just for fun, I sent a few postcards--I sent one to him and I sent one to President Sproul. I don't think President Sproul answered. and I was very much surprised that Kerr did. So it was probably the next month after this. or so, that he wrote and asked if I would be amenable to becoming chairman--Davis had recommended I be chairman of the Department of Botany. [indicating a document] This is simply a formal notification. [reading] I said, "I just received your letter of May 7, forwarded to me here"--this is from Santiago, Chile--"advising me of my appointment as chairman of the Department of Botany for the academic year 1954-55. If it is the desire of my colleagues in the department, of Dean Davis, and of yourself, I shall, of course, accept the appointment for 1954-55 and do my best to justify your confidence in me."
And here is a letter I wrote to him from Santiago in response to his first note. [reads] It says, "Your good letter of March 26 was as welcome as it was unexpected. Time since I returned from the south--it being winter here--has been spent largely in collecting in other people's herbariums. which has proven to be rather more rewarding on the whole than my own efforts in the field. We've just returned from a week's visit at the flesh pots of Buenos Aires. which was the high spot of our trip. A beautiful city--very spacious and metropolitan. It seems incredible that such an apparently up-and-coming people should have had the bad luck to be stuck with the government they have. The steaks were all they are reputed to be. and the Chilean food is a pretty sad anticlimax. We flew both ways, and the trip back to Santiago yesterday made in clear sunshine was something to remember. We came so close to Aconcagua, the highest point in the western hemisphere, that we could practically have tweaked its nose. At any rate, we had that week in Argentina before receiving your official letter.
"Momentarily, I feel so completely remote from anything resembling departmental affairs, that I can't help feeling that you and Sailor must be completely mistaken to harbor the view that I am the man for the job. I hope I can rise and stay risen to the occasion when I get back into the familiar locale. I was
"We have booked passage to Callao, Peru, for June 4 so there is a desperate lot of packing to be done here. I may yet have to take my truck to sea and sink it. In Peru, I hope to get in a little more field work. but we also want to see something of the country. Our post-Peruvian program depends upon the whimsical schedule of Grace Line freighters. but we expect to reach Berkeley in August. I hope I shall not see you then, because I trust that you will be enjoying a muy tranquillo vacation somewhere with your family in Berkeley."
Constance
Then I had a note from June 1. He says. "Dear Lincoln: By your account. I'm surprised you're even coming back to Berkeley. But needless to say, we will be delighted to have you back and serving as department chairman. even though a reluctant one. Clark"
Lage
At some point, are these letters going to get into The Bancroft Library?
Constance
They'll probably get into my own file, which probably will be in the Jepson Herbarium. After all. they have my library. and someday will have my correspondence.
"The Versatile Taxonomist", 1950 ##
LageLet's talk about three of the influential papers you gave in the fifties--what the occasions were. what some of the general ideas were. and what their influence was.
Constance
Most of those things are questions you really can't answer. I can tell you the occasions for them. In September, 1950, I gave the presidential address for the American Society of Plant Taxonomists. I don't remember exactly when my affiliation with the American Society of Plant Taxonomists began. but my recollection is that I served for several years as a member of the council. I remember raising the caveat that, being on the West Coast. I really was a long way away from the center of the thing. Dr. Henry Allen Gleason, with the New York Botanical
Lage
An admission I wouldn't expect.
Constance
He was from Illinois, which might have accounted for it. At any rate. I found myself giving the presidential address in September, 1950. One of the things that I think spots my career probably is that I like to think up titles. which I hope with be provocative, and then try to figure out how to write up something to go with the title.
Lage
You start with the title?
Constance
I started with the title; I don't always do it, but I did this time. The title I thought of was "The Versatile Taxonomist," and that became a phrase which more or less haunted me over the years. In fact, I'm not infrequently introduced as "the versatile taxonomist."
The general theme that I tried to emphasize in that, and as I have, I think, throughout my career. is the same idea that was expressed in The New Systematics. Plant classification is as old as people's knowledge of plants. One can go back to tribal ethno-botany, if you like, as Professor Berlin in anthropology does. And really, the only thing that changes are the different kinds of information from different kinds of methodology that can be applied to the same purpose.
And so I was advocating the idea that taxonomy cannot get along without support from the basic disciplines of the science; and as an evolutionary synthesis. it can serve as a necessary bridge between the experimental and the observational phases of biology. In short, we can all be proud of being taxonomists, but only when we have made a taxonomy in this country something of which to be proud.
Lage
Did you have the feeling that taxonomy needed to be upgraded?
Constance
Yes.
Lage
How was that received by your colleagues in the society?
Constance
Some probably didn't like it very much. But I think I said that the groups like the Biosystematists on the West Coast had really pioneered in bringing evidence from genetics and cytology into the general exercise of classification; as a result, this was gradually entering and spreading, I would say, throughout the country. But some areas succumbed to it more quickly than others, probably.
Lage
Did being president of the Society of Plant Taxonomists give you an ability to make any changes or encourage changes?
Constance
It gave me an ability to talk to them.
Lage
What kinds of things would you do as president of the society?
Constance
The only thing you had to do as president of that society was give a speech when you stopped being president of the society. [laughter] I might say it was an almost ideal society.
Lage
So the governing council didn't have a great deal of influence.
Constance
Not very much. I mean, it had same, but that's probably all.
##
"The Role of Plant Ecology in Biosystematics," 1952
ConstanceThe second paper you asked me about. "The Role of Plant Ecology in Biosystematics," was a vice-presidential speech. The American Association for the Advancement of Sciences [AAAS] has a series of sections. and section G is. I think. the botanical one, although it could have been broader than botany. At all events. I was vice-president of that section. and I had the responsibility of giving a talk as I went out of office. This was given at St. Louis on December 29, 1952.
Lage
You weren't speaking particularly to ecologists, were you?
Constance
Well, this was part of the problem. as a matter of fact. At this particular point in the history of the American Association for the Advancement of Sciences. a number of the societies of which it was made up (which had their annual meetings with the AAAS) were breaking away and having their own meetings. There was a real question as to whether very many people would show up for this meeting. It occurred to me that I might have to get my own audience. So I picked a list of about twenty or twenty-five people who were either in St. Louis or in the general area of the Midwest, who I thought might conceivably attend, and gave a series of topics that I might talk on. I think I gave them about half a dozen.
I don't remember now what the topics were, but two of them were plant ecology and biosystematics. which really had never been brought together before. I discovered on the basis of this informal poll that these were the two topics that most
It actually worked out pretty well. The paper discussed particularly the work of the Carnegie Laboratory team of Clausen, Keck, and Hiesey, then situated at Stanford University. Their work was really a series of experiments--basically, transplant studies--of the behavior of parts. clones of the same plants under different altitudinal and, hence, climatic conditions. These were collectively labelled "experimental taxonomy." My thesis was that these were actually "experimental ecology" because taxonomy has really a further dimension. Taxonmy involves a decision, a judgment, based on accumulated information. And the kind of new information that was being produced was clearly ecological.
Lage
They were clones--they were actually the same plant put in different ecological settings?
Constance
That's correct--to see what characteristics remained unchanged, and what characteristics did change. In other words. an opportunity to distinguish between those changes which were genetically determined and those which were habitally or ecologically determined.
Several of the ecologists had made a few slightly deprecatory remarks to the effect that this work really ought to be a lesson for taxonomists. But none of them seemed to realize that it had anything to do with ecology, whereas, basically, it was ecological. So I made a survey of ecological textbooks and found there was almost nothing in them that was related to the topic at all. A few of them mentioned a little European work of the same general nature; but otherwise the ecologists proceeded as though species were distinct objects which were immutable--an idea that most taxonomists had already learned was hopelessly passe.
I found one paper in the ecological literature which challenged this view. It was written by a man I didn't know named Egler and was published two years earlier, actually. It was called "A Commentary on American Plant Ecology Based on the Textbooks of 1947-1949." I didn't know about this, and I didn't know about him. But. to a large extent, I really followed up on his survey--at least his critique of ecological literature.
Lage
Did he have some of the same criticisms that you do?
Constance
He had almost the same ones. The interesting thing was that it turned out he was there, sitting in the second row, I think. and nearly had a stroke when he heard me lecturing on his topic.
Lage
Now, were you not aware of his article at the time?
Constance
I was aware of his article. And that, in some ways, was really the theme of my talk. It was a nineteen-page article, published in Ecology. But certainly nobody paid much attention to it, as far as I was aware. That was his view, too--that nobody had really responded to it.
At all events, it was rather fun to beat ecologists over the head.
Lage
[laughs] You did seem somewhat critical of the field.
Constance
I was very critical. The reason I was critical is that I once taught ecology and one of the things I learned early about American plant ecologists at that time was that most of them didn't know anything about the plants they were talking about. Very often their identifications were wildly off, and, as I mentioned. they almost all proceeded on the basis that species were essentially, if you like. separate acts of creation--again, something that taxonomists, by and large, had long ago given up.
The paper had rather interesting repercussions. Some of the ecologists were greatly offended. and some of them were delighted. I had drawn an amazing number of ecologists, as a matter of fact, with my title. They didn't know what to expect and some of them didn't like what they got. It had been customary to publish the presidential address in the journal. Ecology. I gather, although I cannot prove this, that there was considerable dabate on the board of editors whether or not this should be published. But finally it was. From the number of reprints I was asked for, it was widely subscribed to. That was my only excursion into plant ecology, shall we say.
Lage
Have you followed up on the field, since?
Constance
No. Well. ecology has become much more complicated. It's become mathematical and so on. Whether or not it's become much more profound. I don't know. Of course. ecologists are in a difficult position because ecology is really, if you like, field genetics, field ecology, under conditions that make experiment very difficult. It can be descriptive, and often is; but as soon as it becomes more experimental. they probably have to bring it into the house and then it becomes something else--
Lage
They've lost the ecology part of it.
Constance
That's right. It's really difficult to do. Well, one of the great improvements in the field has been the development of controlled greenhouses, or phytotrons. etc., where all the conditions can be controlled at once. Otherwise. the ecologist
"Plant Taxonomy in an Age of Experiment," 1957
ConstanceThe third address you mentioned was in 1957, "Plant Taxonomy in an Age of Experiment." This, again, was an invitational affair. The occasion for this was the celebration of the fiftieth birthday of the Botanical Society of America, which was eventually commemorated by a book published by McGraw-Hill under the title of Fifty Years of Botany: Golden Jubilee Volume of the Botanical Society of America and edited by William C. Steere, who was then director of the New York Botanical Garden. The attempt in this jubilee was to have a series of people discuss the half-century of development in their particular specialties. The papers were mostly. at least, given at a meeting at the University of Connecticut at Storrs.
What I was trying to do was. as I've indicated, simply to indicate the changes that had occurred. My thesis was--as usual, I think--that the goal of taxonomy is. as it has always been. an attempt to further the understanding of, in this case, the plants of the world by an arrangement that would indicate their relationships and their similarities and dissimilarities at the same time so that the maximum amount of information could be expressed.
Lage
By this time, was that still a controversial point of view?
Constance
Not really, I think. Everybody was for it, but not everybody was doing it, I'd say. Again, I talked about the inclusion of information from comparative morphology, from cytology and genetics, from embryology, from paleontology, and a lot of miscellaneous things that were all more or less tied together.
[looking through some papers] I noticed that I have a letter from Kerr. [reading] It says, "I was interested to read in the Berkeley Gazette recently of your participation in the Golden Jubilee Symposium sponsored by the Botanical Society of America at the annual convention of the American Institute of Biological Sciences." (The Botanical Society was now meeting with the AIBS instead of the AAAS.) "As you know, I am highly
Lage
So that address came in the midst of your deanship?
Constance
That is correct.
Lage
And was that somewhat unusual for a dean to keep that active?
Constance
It was very easy then. and perhaps is still easier now. to be pulled out of your academic discipline by getting into administration. It's probably like a diet. You have to keep at it, or very soon you're lost.
Lage
Did you have a regular time for working in your office here?
Constance
I mostly came down to the office about seven o'clock and worked till eight. It sounds awfully early to me now, but I believe those were the hours. At any rate, I was the early morning and Saturday morning worker. and that is the way I managed to do at least something all the time.
I don't know that this particular paper had any great responce, but it was nice to be asked and people seemed to be relatively happy with the results. So it was another duty discharged in my field while I was getting more and more involved in other things.
XII Sabbatical Year in South America, 1953-1954##
Guggenheim Fellowship to Study Plant Relationships North and South
ConstanceI applied for a Guggenheim Fellowship for the academic year 1953-54, which was the year after I completed my four years on the budget committee. I felt strongly in need of some refreshment. I had never been able to travel very much. and this struck me as something very nice to do. There had been a tradition in the department of some involvement with South American botanical exploration. primarily by the botanical garden through the efforts of my then colleague. T. Harper Goodspeed. This University of California clip sheet of November 17, 1953, says, "Plans for a plant-hunting expedition in the western regions of South America have been revealed by Dr. Lincoln Constance, professor of botany at the Berkeley campus of the University of California. He plans to spend about eight months in South America. most of the time in Chile, but hopes to visit Peru and Argentina as well. The purpose is to gather plant specimens, seeds. and information leading to an explanation of the relationship between native plants of the North American temperate zone and similar plants in the temperate zone of Sourth America."
Lage
You had a larger, overriding purpose.
Constance
That was the broad objective. [continues reading] "`It seems strange,' said Dr. Constance, `that some plants are common in both northern and southern temperate zones, but are not found at all in between the two zones.' He will confine his studies to two families of plants on whose North American species he is a specialist. He says that he hopes the results of his published research on South American varieties will help to explain how these plants have come to be where they are today."
Lage
And did it?
Constance
Oh, to some degree, but not to the point that you could write a general essay on the subject. But I found out pretty much what I wanted to know about the specific things. and I learned something about the botany of the area.
In Transit: Twelve Passengers and a Cargo of Dynamite
LageShall we talk a little bit about that trip more specifically--about what it was like? I hear you had a very interesting vehicle that you had prepared for the trip.
Constance
Ah, yes. Well, the problem of doing field work in Latin America is basically the problem of transportation. I had very helpful advice from Professor Goodspeed. He put me in touch with the Grace Line. which then ran freighters from San Francisco part of the way around Cape Horn, at least around the southern tip of South America. Through his good offices I was able to get them to take a vehicle for me. I think we also got a reduced passenger rate. if I remember coorectly. It may be that the reduced passenger rate had something to do with the fact that they were carrying a cargo of dynamite, but I'm not quite sure about that.
Lage
They were carrying a cargo of dynamite?
Constance
We were--we were carrying a cargo of dynamite. They didn't tell us this until we were almost ready to leave and, not too surprisingly, my wife. who with my eleven-year-old son was going with me, was somewhat perturbed at this. and we went over and talked to the Grace people. They assured her and me--I wasn't too concerned about it--that carrying explosives was standard procedure; one had never blown up yet!
At all events. we did go. I tried to find a suitable vehicle; I'm not sure whether jeeps were available then or not, but people impressed upon me the necessity of having a car that you could lock because they were sure that everything you had would be stolen if you couldn't. So I finally obtained from the university garage an International Harvester delivery vehicle. It was essentially a box-like, enclosed truck. My friends used to say it looked like a milk wagon. and indeed I understand that the one we left in Santiago was used as a milk distributor for some years.
Lage
So you left it down there when you came back?
Constance
I left it down there when we came home. The Grace Line was willing to carry it one way, but not the other, and it would cost considerably more to bring it back than the thing was worth when we got it here. It wasn't, unfortunately, all that satisfactory anyway. It did have to advantage that you could lock it. When you've said that, you've said most of it.
Lage
It must have had four-wheel drive.
Constance
I don't remember--I'm not sure that it would have that much luxury to it. At any rate, it was better than nothing--mejor que nada.
Lage
Were you fluent in Spanish at this time?
Constance
I never was; I'm not yet.
Lage
Oh. you're still not? I saw this Spanish paper here.
Constance
Oh, I can read it reasonably well, but I'm essentially selftaught.
At any rate. we made all our arrangements and we left a little before Christmas. Traveling on a freighter. as passengers, we were clearly supercargo, and we moved when the freight moved and in the same direction, but not before and not with any very special flourishes. We were supposed to leave sometime in the fall and then things dragged on and on and we didn't know when we were going to leave. Finally, we left about two days before Christmas.
The thing I remember is that we went aboard the ship. which was one of the Santas, the Santa Eliana, in the early evening. Then in the middle of the night we moved over to Hunter's Point, and the stevedores loaded dynamite all night. There were lights cast on the operation. and it certainly looked like a scene out of hell. The ship was a little world all of its own. In the morning, we sailed out under the Oakland-San Francisco Bay Bridge and the Golden Gate and past the Farallones and so on. One had the interesting sensation that the umbilical cord had been cut. We were simply operating on another trajectory completely. Some of my friends had been worried that since I was known to be fairly active and not a little impatient, I would drive myself and everybody crazy on shipboard, but that didn't turn out to be the case. I felt perfectly relaxed on shipboard.
Lage
How long was the whole trip?
Constance
The whole trip was about six weeks, I think. Six weeks to Valparaiso from San Francisco. We stopped in every country south of Mexico. excepting Honduras, I believe. We had some interesting times.
##
Constance
We were out in the Gulf of Tehuantepec when lightning was striking all around us. Since we were carrying dynamite, it was, shall we say. fairly exciting.
Lage
Your son must have found all this pretty exciting.
Constance
Oh. yes. He had a ball. It was a wonderful experience. There was a maximum of twelve passengers. As I said, they were clearly supercargo and had no special privileges. We ate with the officers. and they loved to tell us specious yarns of one sort and another. My recollection is that when we went down we had, I think. a maximum of about eight people. One was a Guatemalan boy going home from some private schooling somewhere. One, who was very dignified and uncommunicative, was reported to be an Argentinian general. There was some elderly lady. who I think was a European refugee of some kind, going down to visit her son somewhere. There were several others: a graduate student from Santa Barbara who was going to a teaching position in Bolivia and his wife.
The trip was interesting because we had the run of the ship. We ate the ship's fare. which was wholesome if not spectacular. We could go down in the middle of the night and make ourselves sandwiches and coffee if we wanted to. It was a kind of floating picnic in some ways. I spent some time getting notes and things ready for my travel, but I spent a lot of time working on Spanish. I had the reputation, by the time we got there, of knowing more Spanish grammar than anyone else on the boat and being able to speak less of it than anybody.
One of the things that I was amazed by was the amount of communication that took place between the ship's officers and the various characters they ran into in ports and so on. The officers knew a few Spanish words, and the people in the ports knew a few English words; neither of them knew any grammar--with rare exceptions. But mostly they operated with about one word from the other language and three from their own, but understood each other perfectly. I didn't have the courage of my convictions.
Lage
You mean you didn't try it out as much as you should have?
Constance
No, I apparently didn't. Well. at any rate. whenever the ship stopped. I wanted to get off naturally; I wanted to see the plants of the areas we were going through. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. If we were going to be there for a few hours, they were careful not to let us off. If they were going to be there for some time, they were dying to get us out of their hair. So. among other things, we spent a week in
We went up to San Salvador and stayed there for what seemed to be day after day after day and heard absolutely nothing. We were in the most expensive hotel at the time and. of course, were paying our own way and getting a little disturbed by this. I think probably all the passengers were off the ship; there were about seven of us who were together in San Salvador.
Eventually we decided to drive down to La Union, which essentially meant bisecting the country. El Salvador, of course, is about the size of a postage stamp anyway. So we rented a taxi and drove to La Union. On the way, we picked up a few roadside refreshments, which turned out to not have been one of the wiser activities we might have engaged in. My son became very sick by the time we got to La Union, and I promptly followed him. I remember spending what seemed like an interminable time--it was actually maybe two or three days-- lying in a hammock in what passed for a hotel on the ground floor of a court, listening to the ox-carts rolling over the cobblestone streets and hoping I would die before morning. Occasionally, I would get down on my hands and knees and crawl to the other end of the patio. where there was an appropriate facility, and then crawl back again.
But, like all things. it came to an end. About the time I was almost over it--it must have been nearly a week, I think. collectively--in the middle of the night. a wild-haired chap came in. saying that the captain of our ship. which was now in Honduras and was supposed to come back and pick us up. wanted us to go with this man in an open boat across the body of water that separated Salvador from Honduras to join the ship. The party immediately split as to the advisability of doing this. The women were unanimously against it; the men were divided, and I came down on the side of the women. I couldn't believe that it would be wise for us to go out with someone we didn't know, who had no identification. cross an international boundary, involving two countries of which we were not citizens, in the middle of the night. I thought if the captain really intended for us to go. he would have sent us something in writing.
At any rate, we didn't go. Later we discovered that, indeed, it was valid. I don't know why the captain sent this chap; but. he wasn't a very prepossessing ambassador. At all
Lage
When you started to get off the train to go on the ship?
Constance
Right. It turned out that it either was, or had recently become, illegal to go in one port and come out another. The Grace Line advised us to do it--I'm sure in good faith--and of course we didn't know anything about it. I was still too sick to do very much, but two or three of the men volunteered to go with the officers. and eventually they decided to let us go.
I can't remember whether they fined the Grace Line or not. At any rate, the Grace Line spent quite a little money getting the ship back to pick us up. The captain basically assumed responsibility for it. He said he would appreciate it if--if we felt we wanted to--we helped to reimburse him. But he said he wouldn't ask unless everybody agreed to it. One couple did not agree to it, so it wasn't done. I feel badly about this because the captain was very nice.
So at all events, we got out of Salvador. We stopped in Nicaragua. We went ashore briefly. We were at San Juan del Sur--Saint John of the South--and there was a big crowd on the beach. The reason for the crowd was that there was a large shark which had been caught or beached. and the people were swarming around with knives carving out its liver, while the shark was still operating. The other thing that was interesting was that pelicans were diving for fish. They looked as if they'd break their necks when they hit the water, but they didn't. We went ashore briefly, and we were impressed by the very attractive pastel-washed houses--they were really quite lovely.
From Nicaragua we went to Panama. We were there briefly. We went up the Panama Canal a ways. while our ship was docked at Antigua, the old port on the Pacific.
Then the next stop was in Buenaventura, Colombia, the port on the west coast. We were there only, I think. for some part of a day. In Nicaragua we thought about going up to Managua-- the capital--but it seemed difficult to arrange. It was difficult to take off from the ship for any length of time because they never knew quite when they wanted you back again. They used to tell us. helpfully, that if they were ready to go,
We stopped several places in Peru, but I think Callao. the port of Lima, was the only one where we really could get off and spend some time. We went from Callao to Lima and then stayed there. My recollection is that we were there several days and we got a pretty good look at it. Lima, of course, is a fascinating city. Then we returned to the ship at Callao and went south to the town of Mollendo. Mollendo has a railroad that runs to La Paz, Bolivia.
I think I mentioned that there was a former graduate student in anthropology at Santa Barbara and his wife on board. He was going to a teaching position at a private school in Oruro. Bolivia. This couple had a small child. who was a very cute youngster, but the couple was ultra-permissive, and their child drove the crew absolutely crazy. The Automobile Association of Southern California, which had worked out their schedule for them. had decided that he should drive their car--which was aboard--from Mollendo to La Paz.
There's a road from Mollendo to La Paz, but they thought that the road trip would be too difficult for his wife--twelve hours--and that. therefore, she should stay on the ship and go on to Arica in Chile. And from there, there is a railroad line. But I gather the travel agency in Los Angeles didn't tell them very much about the nature of Peruvian ports. I remember we were at the side of the ship. as we were coming toward Mollendo, and the only thing you could see was a big, circular tank. He kept looking for the city, which was somewhere behind the tank. He asked me to go ashore with him and I did. There was a town there. of sorts. and I saw him off to La Paz.
There are almost no ports on the west coast of South America, so various devices are used to get goods and passengers from ship to shore and vice versa. One of the ways is to crank them up with some sort of a motor. The first experience we had of this was actually in Guatemala, and there they had what was really a kitchen chair with four chains attached to the four corners of the chair as seen from above. My wife sat in the chair and our son and I. and I think the other two men, stood on the chair around her and hung onto the chains as we were lifted up to the dock. That was one way of doing it. Otherwise. the people were lowered into lighters (shallow boats) and then, somehow or another. lifted off at the other end.
When we got to Arica, there was a notable lack of volunteers to get the lady and her daughter ashore, so I volunteered. Fortunately, I managed to get them landed safely.
Lage
Now. what was your role in getting them off?
Constance
I carried the baby, stepping down into the lighter and getting cranked up. so far as I can recall, on the other end. [laughter]
At any rate. we got there.
Life in Chile. Colleagues, and Field Work
ConstanceWe went on down to Valparaiso, where we were met by at least three people, two of whom had been associated with Professor Goodspeed on one or another of his trips. and the third was Carlos Munoz. who was, I think I've said earlier. my first Chilean friend. This reception was particularly touching because this was February. and I think we had been expected for at least a couple of weeks. So my friend Munoz, who was spending his summer vacation--the southern summer--in the city of Los Angeles, Chile, had probably spent at least ten days waiting for us.
I remember we were hauled off to lunch--I can't remember what they called it. It was, in essence I think. the navy club. decorated with pictures of ships and admirals. Most of these were memorials of the Guerro de Pacifico--the War of the Pacific--which, fortunately, I had heard about; otherwise. it might have come as a complete surprise. The British Admiral Cochrane apparently lent his services to Chile in the War of the Pacific, which was initially between Peru and Chile versus Bolivia--it ended in taking away Bolivia's coast and leaving it a landlocked nation, as it still is. In the second stage, it became a war between Peru and Chile over who got the spoils. Chile. which was successful in the maritime war, came out the winner.
But it was very interesting that in Peru there were all sorts of memorial statuary, mostly to people who were in charge of defeated units during the war; in Chile. to successful admirals. of one sort or another. In the town of Arica, which is in northernmost Chile, and either in or close to part of the coastal area taken from Bolivia, there is a very large rock. The Peruvian general apparently was in a hopeless position and rode his horse off the rock in an heroic. typically macho gesture. The Peruvians, of course, regarded this as a symbolic act of patriotism. The Chileans. somewhat less admiringly, referred to it as the first time in history a horse had ever committed suicide. [laughter]
At any rate, we got to Valparaiso and went through customs and rather quickly got to Santiago, which is about seventy-five miles inland. Santiago supposedly has a climate which is nearest to that of Sacramento, but it never seemed to me to be quite that warm.
Munoz invited us to use their home. He was in the Ministry of Agriculture at that time and had a company house, so to speak. But my wife and I decided that neither of us was really up to doing the marketing in a Spanish-speaking country, so through the good offices of some of the people that he knew in the Museum of Natural History, we were able to find a pension run by a German woman in a suburb of Santiago. Pension Huber, incidentally. has now become a legend in our family.
Lage
How were the accomodations there?
Constance
They were quite pleasant. I was away a good share of the time, but it was a nice place for my wife and son. I had originally planned to take them out in the field with me, but after very little experimentation in this direction. I didn't think they would be very happy. The accomodations in small towns in Chile left a good deal to be desired. I couldn't very well take them into the field; it just wasn't very practical. We thought about putting our son in school and then we decided he wouldn't be there long enough for that to make much sense, so we didn't.
Originally, I started out to do my own driving. but I discovered that if you did this in Chile, you tended to lose caste; however, I tended to lose my way as well. I could find my way from town to town. But when I got into town. I often had trouble getting out in the right direction, so it didn't work very well.
I don't know any way to summarize my experience there very well, quickly. I tried to sample all the different kinds of habitats. I got up into the lower Andes somewhat above. I tried to get to as many places and do as many different kinds of things as I could. When I had corresponded from California with people, my Chilean friends were practically standing in line--you know, they would drop their jobs and/or their commitments--to have the pleasure of showing me the country. When I got there, I discovered that they were not quite that available. It was probably the Latin-American tendency to be more than willing, but not to be able to really follow up. So it took about five weeks before I could really get started. I learned later that that's sort of standard procedure. Part of that was the problem of getting things through customs, which turned out to be a bureaucratic snarl with any goings or comings.
Lage
Getting your possessions off the boat?
Constance
That's right--and getting the necessary licenses to operate. You had to have a carne. which is a personal police permit of some sort--
Lage
To collect plants?
Constance
To do anything. And every place you turned around. you had to get three more revenue stamps--come down next Tuesday, between the hours of this and that and such and such--to have something stamped. And, of course. when you did there was nobody there, and you had to come back next week. It was quite maddening. in a way, but in between times I learned quite a little about things.
Actually, we got to Santiago in February, and it's a little like being in the Sacramento Valley in July--it was brown as far as you could see. What I really needed to do was get up into the high country, or to get farther south.
I kept hearing about all these people who were going to make trips with me. Finally, I discovered that one of them--a Swede, Dr. Benkt Sparre, who was at the University of Concepcion considerably to the south--was the only one who was seriously prepared to go out in the field with me. So I provided myself with a chauffeur by buying the vacation time of one of the government chauffeurs and drove down to Concepcion. I bought his vacation. He acted as my chauffeur, companion. and assistant.
We went into the volcanic country, which is south of the Andes proper and is really very beautiful. It's sometimes called the Switzerland of South America, both on the Patagonian or Argentine side and on the Chilean side. It has very high volcanic mountains--Aconcagua, which is the highest mountain in the hemisphere. is there. We discovered that about timberline was at that time of the year the best place to look for materials of the kind I was interested in. There were ski resorts which were not operating at this time of year. But usually. they had someone in charge and usually we could get a meal and a place to stay. So we went up a series of the major volcanoes. We went to timberline. and I got a lot of material I was anxious to obtain. Sparre did general collecting for me, so I was able to come home with a sizable amount of material.
We really led two lives there. One was the life of the pension. which was very interesting. People there were from most everywhere. Two of the most notable individuals were an Englishwoman real estate operator. who had come with her husband to Chile a number of years before. He had died. and she had
The second one, who was particularly nice to my family, was Charles Scott, originally from Aberdeen [Scotland], a forester, who had been in the British forest service--I can't remember now if it was in Singapore or Malaya. He had retired. and he was working for F.A.O.--the international food and agricultural organization. He and a retired French professor were trying to set up, under United Nation auspices. a graduate school of forestry at the University of Chile. They (Mrs. Hobbins and Mr. Scott) remained friends for the rest of their lives. So we made some very close friends there; on the other hand, I was out in the field as much as I could be. And in the course of it, I got to know all the Chilean botanists.
Lage
Did you then take other field trips with other botanists?
Constance
I took one with Agustin Garavanta. who lived in Limache. north of Valparaiso. We climbed together, in company with an Argentine botanist, La Campana de Quillota. a mountain Darwin had climbed during the course of his voyage of the Beagle. The Chileans had put up a little memorial plaque to Darwin. and my friend Garavanta had carried it up there. He was of Italian extraction and was an excellent amateur botanist; he had a garden in Valparaiso. in which he grew a lot of native plants. I stayed with him and his family one weekend. and there was no one there who spoke any English at all. I think my Spanish probably hit its apogee. But then this visitor from Argentina arrived. Osvaldo Boelcke, who spoke colloquial English, which he apparently had taught himself. Language, unfortunately, doesn't come easy to me. I believe in it, but I'm afraid I have no natural ability for it.
##
Lage
Did you make any comparison of what you found on the mountain that Darwin climbed with what Darwin found?
Constance
There wasn't anything particular, I think. about that. It was interesting because it was the highest point in the coast ranges, which are not very well defined there, anymore than they are here. But mostly, I was absorbing information. I obtained a lot of interesting material; as I wrote someone, I was spending about as much time collecting plants in other people's collections as I was getting them in the field. People were very much interested in finding someone who shared their interests.
One of the people I remember particularly was Gualterio Looser, who was the Chilean expert on ferns. He was of Swiss extraction. and he had a little business making doorknobs or locks or something of the sort. My friend Munoz arranged for me to go and see him. I used to arrive. if I remember correctly, at something like 5:30 on Thursday afternoons. And his sister, who spoke English. would fix tea for us. Then she would excuse herself, and he would bring out his plants, and we'd go ahead and talk about plants. He didn't know any English, I knew very little Spanish, we both knew a little German--you can use Latin plant names. But we had no trouble communicating. I always wondered what language we did it in really!
He was a delightful person. He took me to a meeting of the Chilean Academy of Sciences, or whatever it's called. I was really concerned because I received the invitation. and I couldn't read the signature, and I didn't know who had sent it. I was afraid it might produce some sort of a gaffe. As you may know, Latin-Americans do not sign their names. They basically have a special cryptic designation. which indeed is their name. I later discovered that wherever you went--if you had to sign into a hotel--you had to sign the register. On the register, there were separate columns for your name and for your signature. Both in Chile and Peru I noticed the clerk would watch me sign my name and turn the thing around and say, "Ah, el mismo!"--the same. Therefore. it's difficult to recognize some of these scrawls.
In Chile, then. I essentially sampled the flora as well as I could with my somewhat restricted means of getting around. I should have liked to have gone out to the Archipelago of Juan Fernandez. I looked into it far enough to find that I could probably get out, but there was no assurance I could get back. I also was interested in the big island of Chiloe. But there again, it is a very popular tourist area--that is, tourist in the sense of mainland Chileans--and it didn't seem very likely I could get accommodations or transportation either, so I didn't do that. I stuck to the land. and we got down as far as Puerto Montt, which is where the Pan-American Highway ran out. You couldn't get beyond that without going over into Argentinian Patagonia.
Lage
Which you did later.
Constance
I did that later, but not on this trip. Almost the last thing that we did in Chile was to spend a week in Argentina. We flew across the Andes. and in some ways this worked out rather well because when I went to Chile I had talked to people in the consulate in San Francisco. They impressed upon me that if I planned to stay more than six months, I should not go with a tourist visa.
So I went with some kind of an entrance permit. I found, of course, when I got down there, that this was the worst thing you could possibly have done because it was practically impossible to get out.
Lage
It's an entrance permit but not an exit--?
Constance
Exactly. In going over to Argentina, I had real problems. I got a young lady botanist from the faculty of the University of Buenos Aires to go over with me. and she helped me through it. So we went to Buenos Aires, clearly as tourists, and then came back still as tourists, and after that there was no problem. When we actually left Chile, I went by myself and had no trouble going through the whole business.
The visit to Buenos Aires was very pleasant because I met most of the botanists around Buenos Aires. and it was quite a distinguished group. Some of them are still close friends. That facilitated my having an opportunity to go back to Argentina some twelve years later.
Lage
Did it also facilitate exchanges?
Constance
Oh, yes, all sorts of interrelations.
Lage
Did you find things on this trip that weren't in various collections. or is it just of value to see where they grow?
Constance
Well, I certainly brought back things we didn't have in our collections. We probably have the best collection, anywhere, of the two groups of plants I'm interested in. My collecting, both in the field and getting material from other people, and establishing communication of one sort of another were highly instrumental in that. I don't think I found any real novelties, shall we say. You never know about these things because you collect things and maybe fifty years down the line, somebody will discover that this is something that had never been collected before. But I'm not aware that I did; that wasn't particularly what I was trying to do. I was really trying to see what the biogeographic circumstances were like, see what was where. and how they grew.
This was the sort of thing that interested me: Two members of the parsleys, with which I had been particularly concerned, grow together in woodland in western North America. I found that in Chile they also grow together in woodland. You could practically transpose the two woodlands in general appearance, but their other species are not the same.
Lage
Is there any explanation?
Constance
There are more explanations than there are proofs. But one of the common explanations, and probably the most generally accepted at the present time, is long-distance dispersal by animals, primarily birds. There are some things in California which look as if they were native which probably are not, and which may have been introduced by moving grazing animals back and forth between the hemispheres.
I happened to run across a note wherein a botanist in southern California stated that there was no evidence they ever exchanged sheep between South America and North America, but if they did, it would be a lot easier to explain the distribution of some weeds. The moment I got to Chile, I recognized all the weeds.
Lage
So they're the same plants growing in the two--?
Constance
The weeds are the same; that is, in both places they're mostly introductions from Europe and Asia.
Lage
Oh, I see. When you say "weeds," you mean--
Constance
I mean exotics--I don't mean the native species. No, weeds are aliens. For instance, you have not only the Old World Eurasian things that have been introduced in both places, but you have some introductions back and forth. For instance, the California poppy is so very abundant in some parts of Chile that they call it the flor de ferrocarril--flower of the railway--because it grows along the railroad tracks. They hadn't, at that time at least, developed the weed-killers which kill off such species here. But they would also grow on the railroad tracks here if given half a chance. There they have the chance and take it. The common yellow-flowered lupines that used to be around the Presidio are quite abundant on the Chilean coast.
Lage
Those are weeds?
Constance
Those are weeds--that is, they're weeds down there. They're native here. So a weed is largely a matter of opinion, you see. If you want it to grow, it's not a weed; if you don't, it is.
I can't think of anything particularly distinctive about the trip. It was my first excursion to South America and it deepened my interest in South American plants. It gave me a great many associations, which I had not had before. After we returned to Santiago from Buenos Aires, I worked largely in the museums there because it was getting too late in the year to do much in the way of additional field work. Then we obtained return passage to California on another Santa ship.
Unfortunately, my wife and I both got the flu just before we left, and we spent a couple of uncomfortable nights in Valparaiso. By the time we got on the ship, we were both pretty miserable. So we spent the ship time between Valparaiso and Callao pretty much in bed. Meanwhile, our son was having an absolutely wonderful time because we couldn't keep watch on him. I didn't say much about him before, but he had a wonderful time.
Lage
I wonder how he did on his own?
Constance
He had the run of the ship. He read the sailors' manual and then asked the officers questions. He was generally referred to as a horrible little monster, and the captain thought he was wonderful because he said that most of his officers hadn't dealt with any of this information since they were commissioned. or whatever they are, in the first place. Bill would ask them questions like, "Well, at this point on the map, if there's a light here and a light there, why is the light there brighter than the light here if they have the same electrical power?" and so on. He learned to read the charts and follow the ship's course. He had a thoroughly delightful time.
Lage
What about on land--how did he like the experience in Chile, and how did your wife like it?
Constance
They enjoyed it. They enjoyed the life in the pension. There were very pleasant people there, and it was interesting.
Lage
Did they learn Spanish?
Constance
They learned some. If he had had the chance, my son would have picked it up like a sponge. He didn't have too much chance, and I somewhat regret that we didn't get him into school, but it really wasn't very feasible. But they led a pleasant life--they read a lot, it was pleasant to walk around and there were enough people that they knew, or got to know, to prove interesting. They got a little coaching in Spanish by one of the women in pension, who had a Norwegian name.
One of the things we discovered about Chile is that it was very hard to find any Chileans.
Lage
I was wondering--so many of the people you mentioned came from here and there.
Constance
The thing is, they almost invariably told you, "I'm Swiss," or "I'm Swedish," or "I'm German." I know that one of the people who met us at the ship--an associate of Goodspeed's, a senior physician at one of the hospitals in Valparaiso--was as English
This was one of the real problems in Chile--that people did not identify themselves as Chilean. They thought of themselves as whatever their foreign origin had been. They tended to keep up these national distinctions. I remember Mr. Garavanta had his children, I believe, in a school where they were learning German and then would send them to a French or English school. The different nationals tended not to mix. Before my year was out, I was introducing Chilean botanists to each other. Some of those of German extraction and those of Spanish extraction had nothing to do with each other.
Lage
Was it a caste system, more or less?
Constance
There was a pecking order, at any rate. South Chile is, essentially, German--heavily German--settled in the middle of the nineteenth century. Most of the big farms are German-owned. And along with this, the Germans carried their tradition of interest in natural history. So most of the work on botany and things of that sort were done in the old German naturalist traditions.
Lage
What about native Americans?
Constance
The Chileans pretty well eliminated the natives. The most durable opponents of the Chileans were the Araucanians, who lived south of the Rio Bio-Bio, which runs through the town of Concepcion. If you think of Chile in relation to California, I always think of Concepcion as being approximately Santa Barbara, which gives you a little idea of place.
The Araucanians were very fierce. They had the reputation of cutting the hearts out of anybody they captured. That tended to keep the Spanish Chileans at some distance. They pretty much maintained their control until relatively late. I can't tell you exactly how late that was, but at any rate, the Spanish Chileans didn't make much progress in the southern part of Chile. But the Germans did; they came in in large numbers. They were very industrious. They built towns like Valdivia and Osorno, which were very odd in a way, because they follow the plaza plan--you know, the Latin-American plan. (I suppose it's Spanish, too.) It has the cathedral on one end of the square and the saloon on the other. It's usually a square where people walk around and eat and so on. That's a customary set-up, a Spanish plaza but northern European wood construction. So, in Puerto Montt, for instance, all the buildings are wood, which is very un-Spanish looking. I must say.
At all events, the Germans and the Spanish went their own ways, for the most part. I had one correspondent in Punta Arenas--a German--and I remember his writing, "We have lived with them for twenty years; we'll never understand them, and they'll never understand us." There's probably some truth to that. Whether that explains, to any considerable degree, the present divisions in Chile, I don't know. In a general way, the Germans were the builders, who really built up agriculture and so on, and when the effort to spread out economic goodies came along, a number of these estancias were simply mobbed by landless people who were sent out from the cities. At least one Chilean now in this country, who I think has pretty liberal sympathies, told of his family's estancia in the province of Aconcagua. The people who came out from Santiago to settle completely looted the place. They looted and wrecked everything in it, and then they went back to the Santiago barrios and left it deserted.
Lage
When was that?
Constance
That was when Allende was in power. Not that I'm defending the current military regime, by any means. But I think that, to some degree, you could guess that that would happen if you take people out of an urban slum and suddenly throw them into the countryside. I don't think that the San Joaquin Valley would be very fruitful for a few years if the same thing happened here. So there were some critical regional distinctions of that sort.
Lage
But it's basically European--?
Constance
Chile is very European in many ways. The countries are really very different. Peru is much more Indian--almost colonial in some ways.
Peru and the Trip Home
ConstanceWe went to Peru when we came back from Chile; we got to Callao in the middle of the night. It never rains in Callao, either, but the mist was so thick you could cut it with a knife. We were both suffering from the flu and were tossed out about three a.m. Customs people took our baggage and pretty much littered it over a half block, probably because we didn't bribe them enough in the right way; but the art of bribery is a very fine art, and of course you could get yourself in worse trouble by trying it than by not trying it. So we didn't. They even taxed us on things we had bought in Chile to take to the United States.
We got over that, and we got a very pleasant pension in San Isidro, which is a very pleasant suburb of Lima. Lima is really on the coast but never, somehow, strikes me as a coastal city. It's a very, very interesting city--really quite beautiful. And there I had very good connections with the principle Peruvian botanist, Ramon Ferreyra--who dropped in to see me here last year, by the way. (I hadn't seen him for several years.) I worked in a museum there. He was unable to get away, but with the driver from the museum and a young associate of his named Oscar Tovar, I went up into the Andes and across, down into just the edge of the headwaters of the Amazon for, I guess, about ten days. This gave me a pretty good, short cross-section of Peruvian vegetation because you rise very quickly above Lima. The pass is around nineteen-thousand feet, if I remember correctly. I think there was one thing I was particularly anxious to see in Peru, and it's the first thing I nearly stepped on when I got out of the car at that point.
That was a fascinating experience. Peru is a remarkably rich and diverse source of not only botanical, but also archaeologial--you name it, material. So, at any rate, with the help of Tovar, I got a pretty good sampling of things, and I saw a lot that was very interesting. Neither of my companions spoke English. Occasionally, Tovar would come up with an English word like "bread", which wasn't of any great use to me at the time, but my companions were thoroughly compatible. Oscar is a very fine person. He has spent a lot of time in this country since then. He's the expert on Peruvian grasses--he has worked at the Smithsonian. But at that time he didn't know English. I remember being out on the streets in the town of Tarma and thinking to myself, "Perhaps I'm the only person in this city who thinks in English."
I remember that we were there on a particularly beautiful night, and the stars were absolutely stunning. I don't know how high it is--seven--thousand feet or something--maybe not that high, but it seemed high. I remember trying to explain the Southern Cross to my companions. That, again, was a fairly high point in my Spanish, I think, which tailed off rather rapidly thereafter.
Lage
Sounds like it had to be a high point, by necessity.
Constance
That's right. It was very interesting, and I enjoyed this little jaunt. We were up on the high puna, as they call it, the above treeline area--a dry area--one night. The next night. we
Lage
And were you finding members of your plant family in both places?
Constance
Oh, yes.
Lage
It's a very versatile family.
Constance
That's right, it is indeed, for a versatile taxonomist. [laughter]
We had a very pleasant time in Peru, but we didn't make any close friends in this pension.
Lage
How long did you stay there?
Constance
I'm trying to remember. I suppose it must have been at least three to four weeks, I suppose, something like that.
At any rate, we went back to Callao and picked up another Santa and came home. The trip home was very pleasant, but not very interesting. We didn't stop as many times. We did stop in Ecuador, and I remember the town of Manta where they make Panama hats. Panama hats are woven under water, in case you didn't know this. Manta is also the home of the manta ray, which is a horrible flat fish with a stinging tail. We stopped at some other town in Ecuador, but I don't remember which one. We landed again at Buenaventura, Colombia, and after that we came directly home.
We had pleasant companions. The ship's captain was very nice. I remember I was out talking to him on the bow of the ship one day, saying something about whales. He said. "Turn around." I turned around and here were some whales spouting. There was a lot of sea life. There were dolphins. One of the things on the Peruvian coast, both going and coming, that was fascinating, was the flights of cormorants. They would go by in masses for what seemed like hours.
The Peruvian coast is studded with rocks covered with guano from the birds. At night, you can easily tell when you're getting close to the islets on the coast without seeing them. We didn't go to the Galapagos Islands--that would have been interesting. But it was a very pleasant trip coming home.
Lage
Is there any final remark on the trip?
Constance
I wrote a sabbatical report. In summary I said, [reading] "I think it is at least equally significant that I was able to learn something of the native and cultivated flora of western Central and South America, to secure a good transect of vegetation in Peru, to see something of the pampa and delta vegetation around Buenos Aires, and to make a fairly intensive study of the Andes, the volcanoes, and the temperate forests in Chile. In addition, I met and got acquainted with most plant scientists in Chile and Peru and in the Buenos Aires area, where there is considerable botanical activity. It is my earnest hope that these recently stimulated contacts will do much over the coming years to supplement my own efforts to obtain research materials for my students and myself. Finally, I feel I obtained a much-needed change of scenery, my family and I received a liberal dose of a different culture and language, and my youngster learned the rudiments of Spanish and marine navigation. From my own standpoint the trip was successful, and I hope it may prove to have been from the University's also. In a few years, I should like to go back and study the spring vegetation of the southern hemisphere."
Lage
Was it routine to write a sabbatical report?
Constance
That's right. It's a routine that a lot of people never got around to doing. Yes, it is supposed to be a specification of a sabbatical leave.
The Chilean Way: Disposing of the Car
ConstanceThe other thing I can think of that I left out was the problem of what to do with my car when I left Chile. This got to be a wonderful little theater of its own. Chile had strict regulations about importing cars; they were very severe because of the financial hemorrhage of international movement of goods--bringing things in, taking them out, whatever. I got an international permit from the American Automobile Association, I guess, and that specified that I had to follow Chilean law wherever I was.
##
What I had originally planned to do was to take the truck to Chile, use it, send it up to Peru, and then dispose of it there if I could. Actually, I think I paid four hundred dollars for it, so obviously, it wasn't worth much to begin with. But you couldn't just leave it; you had to do something with it. The question was, "What could you do?" Pretty obviously, whatever you did with it was going to cost you more than you
Well, I seriously considered paying the Grace Line to take it out and dump it overboard. (Ocean pollution was not a recognized problem at that time.)
Lage
You'd think they might need cars.
Constance
Oh. they needed them; the docks were covered with them--cars that had come in that they wouldn't let off the dock because of problems with quotas and so on.
So I went to talk to this gentleman and he said, "Well, you know, there are two ways of doing things here. There's the formal, strictly legalistic way--and then there is the Chilean way. It just so happens I have a brother who has a Chevrolet agency, and I suggest you go talk to him." So I went and talked to him. I wanted, if I could, to get out of the vehicle the money I put into it. As compared with used cars available in Chile, it was not in all that bad shape. I tried to give it to my friend Munoz but he said, "No, I couldn't touch it." He was in government employ. He said, "Your colleague, Goodspeed, got some people into trouble by leaving and selling equipment or something of the sort." It probably wasn't intentional. But it was a tricky sort of thing.
At any rate, it was finally agreed that the Chevrolet dealer would buy it for $500. He would pay me $400 down and send me the $100 "sometime." I wasn't under any illusions that I would ever see the $100. I should say that I had a $100 deposit on the international permit; I didn't expect I'd ever see that, either. That was one reason I wanted to get anything I could out of the car.
At all events, I left the car. I heard later that it was delivering milk in Santiago. I think it still had the University sign on it, or at least a portion of the sign.
When I got back--I guess in October 1955--I wrote the American Automobile Association: "Unfortunately, I have to advise you that both car and papers are presumably still in Chile. At the end of some five months of Chilean roads, the car was not worth the the expense of shipping home. Moveover, tires were rationed, and I was unable to secure the rubber necessary to get it to the dock in Valparaiso. Accordingly, on the advice of the U. S. embassy, I embarked on the procedures necessary to secure permission to leave the car in Chile. One month after starting the necessary steps, we left Chile for Peru. At that time, it seemed evident that we were unlikely to receive any decisions for months and months. Thus, the car and the papers were left in the hands of a Chilean automobile dealer, who is supposed to forward both cash and papers when the car is legally admitted. I'm afraid I do not really expect ever to see the money, nor the car, again. I then anticipate having to forfeit the cash deposit on the latter. However, I hope I may be given a period of grace, at least until the date of expiration."
Much to my amazement, they returned my deposit.
Lage
The Automobile Association?
Constance
That's right. The interesting thing is that I received a letter from the Chilean automobile dealer, who by that time had sent a card with "Consul of Chile" crossed out. He had been to New York, apparently, as Chilean consul sometime after that but by this time was back in Chile.
Lage
Did he ever send the $100?
Constance
Oh, no. Let's not wish for miracles. [laughter]
XIII From Department Chair to Dean of Letters and Science
[Interview 6: March 6, 1986] ##
Chairing the Department of Botany, 1954-1955
ConstanceYou wanted to know something about my chairmanship of the Department of Botany.
Lage
Right.
Constance
Well, there isn't much, really, to tell about it. My late colleague, Lee Bonar, accepted the chairmanship when his predecessor, Professor, later Dean, later Vice-Chancellor [Alva R.] Davis, during World War II became the officer in charge (he had a reserve commission) of an artillery school at Camp Callan in Southern California. Bonar became acting chairman and then chairman. When Davis returned. he moved into the deanship of Letters and Science. and Bonar became chairman on a regular basis and served in that role for several years--I don't remember exactly how many. By the time that I went to South America in '54. he had served beyond what was supposed to be a normal term. A normal term was presumably something like three to five years. There were chairmen who served for twenty-five years and some departments had difficulty getting anybody to serve for a year or even at all.
Lage
Was service as the department head seen as a burden, or as a compliment from your peers. or how was it viewed?
Constance
I'm sure it was various. To some people it was an opportunity to exercise their superiority. By others it was considered a burden and a diversion from one's real role in the university, and I suppose everything in between. I think in most instances, it was thought to be a service you rendered your peers, when asked, with the understanding that when you had done your bit, they would do theirs.
I was always particularly impressed by the English department, in which their finest writers and scholars accepted the imposition of such responsibilities, even though I know some of them hated every moment of it. But it was simply good university citizenship.
Some departments imposed it on people they felt were least productive and wouldn't do anything very important anyway, so they might as well be chairman. There were some departments in which there was so much antagonism among the older members that they would have to get one of the junior members to do it. There were all sorts of situations.
Lage
What does being department chairman involve?
Constance
Well, it is a mini-adminstrative post; in some ways, it is a very demanding one. In some ways, I think it is the most demanding administrative post. You are responsible for the welfare of your staff. You are responsible for the development of your faculty; that is, you have to look ahead and see whom you are going to lose. You have to try to keep sufficiently abreast of your field so that you recognize important developments coming along and try to see that these are adequately covered in some way or another. Since most everything in the university is run by committees, you have to be able to work with your faculty, which is never easy.
And that doesn't even mention the students. of course, who are not always the easiest people to work with. In some larger departments, for instance, you have essentially a student union, which regards its role as, well, not identical to that of the faculty in the department, shall we say. It isn't always at direct odds with it, but it's not too unusual to find itself at odds.
Lage
Was that true even in the fifties--this idea of the student union?
Constance
I think it's always been true; whenever you have a large department and large student group, you can be reasonably sure that they will not see eye to eye with the faculty on every point. For one thing, they would like to have the faculty's jobs. so that can make sort of a permanent point of friction. shall we say.
In this case, at any rate, I had been very happy with Dr. Bonar as chairman. When I received a letter in Chile from Kerr asking me if I would serve as chairman. I assumed it was my responsibility and I couldn't think of any way of getting out of it. so I said. "All right, I'll do my best."
It wasn't until I got back that I discovered that the departmental decision, if it were that (which it really wasn't), to have me as chairman was something less than enthusiastic. In fact, I discovered that the department had unanimously asked that Bonar be continued as chairman. If I had been here, I would have been perfectly happy to sign it. But I know that Davis felt that the chairmanship should be rotated, and I think he also felt that, while everybody loved and respected Bonar, the department probably needed somewhat younger and more aggressive leadership. At any rate, there was at least one member of the faculty who was adamant that I should not be chairman under any circumstances, but here I was.
Lage
Did you have to deal with that faculty member for the year?
Constance
Yes. but it wasn't very serious. His chief act of, shall we say, defiance was never to attend faculty meetings unless expressly invited for each one. I saw to it that he was expressly invited to each one; mostly he came.
My year as chairman was not particularly startling. As I think I said earlier, the only thing I can remember from it of particular importance was that I was afraid that the botanical garden might get away from us, with Goodspeed's retirement. I appointed a committee to make a proposal to the administration for the botany department to formally resume control of it.
Lage
They had not had formal control during Goodspeed's directorship?
Constance
Well, it was really lost when Goodspeed became director.
Lage
But wasn't he a member of the department?
Constance
Yes, but it was his private institute, if you like. And while he was generous, to some degree, with use of the garden and with its produce, it still was very clearly his and not to be considered part of the common departmental pool. At all events, this was successful, and the garden was returned to the department by the administration, and there it has stayed.
Lage
Was there any opposition to returning it?
Constance
I don't think so. I don't think anybody else really wanted it, so far as I know.
Lage
Now does the department have some direct say in how it's run?
Constance
It's hard to tell. Since the department is being de-departmentalized. I really can't answer for what is going to happen to it.
Plans to Restructure Biological Sciences Departments, 1980s
LageThere's not going to be a Department of Botany?
Constance
I haven't followed it that closely. But the present plans, at least, are to--divest, maybe, is the word; I'm not quite sure--to reconstitute biology and remold it into a different structure. The old structure, you see, was really based on the four major divisions--plants, animals, bacteria, and pre-medicine, with agriculture, in large part, being really another branch of biology. The plan is to dissolve most of these. if you like, vertical divisions centered around organisms, and as I understand it at least, to reconsitute departments horizontally with regard to the particular level of organization with which they work, such as molecular, cellular, organismal, and so on.
Lage
So you'll have a Department of Molecular Biology, a Department of Cellular Biology, a Department of--what would be the organismal title?
Constance
That's my understanding. I'm not sure I can answer that. I have not followed it closely because I assumed it would not affect me greatly. Presumably, there is going to be a department which I think is currently called Integrated Biology, which will unite those faculty interested in ecology, systematics, the whole organism. This will include the museums--the natural history museums--and it's at least possible that the botanical garden will be attached there. But it's not entirely clear to me, at any rate, and there are interests in the botanical garden by people who will, presumably, not be in that department. That may make for some counter-influences.
How all these biological fragments are to be interrelated, if at all, I don't know. It's my feeling that nobody else does, either, but I could be mistaken. Certainly, nobody can guess the whole arrangement. This is not unique. More and more departments around the country have first combined botany and zoology into a department of biology. Then this usually proves to be unwieldy, particularly because it extends from biochemists on one end to ecologists and systematists on the other: people working with microbes on one end--very closely related to medicine, let's say--and those on the other end interested more in organisms and the environment. So these large biological groupings tend to become colleges of biology or subcolleges or groups. Then they subdivide and usually there is some unit interested in organismic and ecological matters. Within the university the first real instance of this was at Irvine.
##
Constance
The Irvine campus set up their biology originally, since they were starting from scratch, by dividing biology into the same divisions which the National Science Foundation had employed to organize its biology. This presumably would make it much easier to apply for grants--straight across the board--instead of someone in the Department of Botany applying to the National Science Foundation, where someone would have to say, "Should this request go to the organismic or the molecular or the morphological or the systematic division or something else?"
Lage
Is this also going to mean a new college, breaking away from L & S?
Constance
Some have proposed that. Whether it should or not, I don't know. As a former dean of Letters and Science, I don't like the idea because it clearly would destroy Letters and Science: I can't imagine a college that would consist of physical sciences, humanities, and social studies.
I was rather interested that in the notice of the meeting for the Berkeley division [of the Academic Senate] there was a comment by the Committee on Educational Policy. [reading] It says "CEP"--that's the Committee on Educational Policy-- "reviewed the report of the Chancellor's Advisory Council on Biology, which proposed a major reorganization of departmental arrangements in the biological sciences with a view towards the educational policy implications. CEP's major concerns were: A) The plan offers the potential for massive disruption of educational programs, but the impetus for the plan was somewhat unclear. It appears as though the fact that there will be a new annex facility drove the need to reorganize; B) The plan included no discussion about the implications, advantages or disadvantages for undergraduate education. CEP believed that the definition of "department" should be based heavily on their teaching missions; C) It was unclear as to whether arrangements that foster research collaboration are equally useful for the educational development either of undergraduates or graduates. CEP further argued that the structural lump unit has obvious implications for other units and thus urged that a long-range plan be developed to consider the whole as well as the part."
Again, I have not been close to it. I have not been consulted about it. As far as I've been able to tell, I do not think that the people pushing the plan have even taken up the question of undergraduate education.
Lage
So it's research-oriented?
Constance
It's very heavily research-oriented and medically-allied, because it's thought that the reorganization will increase visibility of people working in the biological area and make it easier for them to get grants and presumably attract distinguished faculty and students. I imagine it means they'll get hold of more laboratory space that way.
But it's an attempt also to try to bring together organizationally those faculty members who have the closest interests, so that you can have something like the process of photosynthesis being worked on in chemistry, biochemistry and several branches of plant science all at the same time. Theoretically, it would be nice to get all these people together, presumably, in the same building, same floor, same laboratory, or whatever. Maybe it will work. maybe it won't-- whatever, as we'd say in Minnesota.
Lage
I asked you here [in the interview outline] how your style of department leadership can be described.
Constance
I don't think that in a year you accomplish a great deal. After all, I had been brought up in the department. By then I had been in the department for eighteen years, and I certainly didn't make any major changes. We were a very democratic department. All members of the faculty had equal voice, and sometimes it seemed as if the junior members had unequal influence. So I certainly didn't produce any major changes. Things went along perfectly normally and I had every expectation that I would continue for my term--I don't remember if I ever really thought about what the length of the term would be.
But in the spring I began to be diverted by discussions with the Chancellor about assuming the deanship of Letters and Science. So I really had only about three-quarters of a year, so to speak. And, as I say, it was relatively uneventful as far as I can remember.
Appointment as Dean of Letters and Science, 1955
LageWhy don't we move on to this process of appointment as dean of Letters and Science?
Constance
Yes. The way people are appointed to administrative office on this campus, so far as I know, is usually by the senior administrator requesting from the [Academic Senate] Committees a slate of names from which an ad hoc committee can
Under this scheme, you don't know who put the finger on you. I've always thought that it really isn't proper to try to find out. From time to time, somebody drops a suggestion so that you perhaps can reconstitute where the particular menace came from; but by and large, not.
The chancellor began talking to me about this and frankly, I was not greatly attracted. My experience at Washington State had done nothing to improve my general impression of deans, and I remember telling Kerr that, so far as I was concerned, dean was a dirty, four-letter word. He said. "Yes, but look at `chancellor."' I said, "I never knew any chancellors, so I never got to hate them." [laughter]
At Pullman, deans were authoritarian figures who usually had allowed their scholarly status, if any, to atrophy; and as a result, they commanded very little respect from the younger faculty.
Lage
But had that been the case here?
Constance
No, I don't think so, but I really hadn't known deans. The deans of Letters and Science prior to Davis were basically disciplinary deans; they were concerned with the requirements of students, the mechanics of getting them through the university. They had no budget, and therefore they had no budgetary power and therefore they didn't have much power. So they were just there. They were very respected people--people like Joel Hildebrand [1938-1944] and George Louderback [1930-1938]. a geologist who was dean of Letters and Science during part of my junior faculty status. Davis, of course, had been chairman of botany, and for him also I had great respect.
Lage
And he became a budgetary dean?
Constance
He was the first budgetary dean of Letters and Science. He was a personal friend of President Sproul's. Sproul had great confidence in him, and he was really an excellent choice. He was interested in the administrative organization of the college, and he was very good at it. With essentially no help whatever, he had an amazingly broad view of the college and of this campus of the University. He was one of the University's wise men, without any question whatsoever.
Kerr and I had several discussions about the deanship, and it was clear that I was not the sole person suggested by the committee. I remember his discussing several possibilities with me. One of the them was Malcolm Davisson, who had been chairman of the budget committee the first year I was there. I told Kerr I would be delighted to serve under him as chairman or anything else. Kerr said, "Fine," but that he could never get him appointed by the Regents because he had led the faculty in their losing struggle against the loyalty oath. He mentioned one or two others who did not seem to me to be really strong characters. So I guess that I gradually began to lose my adamance against taking such a position.
Kerr's Goals for UC Undergraduate Education:
Expansion and Excellence
Lage
Did Kerr discuss with you what his goals were, or what he would hope--?
Constance
I can't remember now at what point we discussed different things because I used to meet with him weekly after I was appointed dean. I do remember his saying at one point that he thought we were only about half as good as we thought we were.
Lage
As a university?
Constance
As a university or campus. which irritated me because I thought we were at least as good as we thought we were, if not better. [laughter] But it was certainly a good approach.
Lage
So he wanted to see changes?
Constance
That's correct. The situation was this. You see, Sproul had been president since '30, and he was a very effective president; I don't think anybody would now quarrel with that appraisal. When he was originally appointed, there was some unhappiness because he was not a senior faculty member, shall we say--he wasn't another Wheeler. He came from the Comptroller's Office. But he was, I think. amazingly successful in directing the University, in getting legislative support for it, and I think so far as possible, in having a harmonious faculty and a good, you might say, family feeling. I think that, although there was always some dissent at Berkeley--I'm sure it goes back to 1870, probably--it was not a very significant factor as far as I can remember. And Sproul. in some ways. really ran the place like a family. He knew everybody; everybody knew him. He was freely accessible and he'd walk across the campus and talk to the students.
But after the war--I don't have the figures--the University grew very, very rapidly in terms of numbers of students, hence also in numbers of faculty. There was a considerable acceleration in appointments, in hiring. A lot of people came in from elsewhere. The Berkeley system, by and large, had been to appoint assistant professors and instructors and let them develop. And the ones who seemed to be developing, we encouraged; those who weren't were discouraged; we grew our own. This was, of course, interpolated with a certain number of senior appointments. but these were rather minimal. We never in my experience, ran on the Harvard system of waiting till people had arrived and then bringing them in with their entire entourage. Some of that had to be done, especially as new fields developed and things of that sort. But on the whole, I think Berkeley tended to be a somewhat slow growing, not terribly competitive institution. I never felt in it the kind of competition that I felt in my brief year at Harvard.
After World War II, this changed a great deal, and more people came in who had not had this kind of a tradition and who were used to a more competitive situation. The University was developing other campuses. There was clearly a need for more institutions in the state, and the question was really whether the University would somehow meet this need or whether it would be completely superseded by colleges of other types here and there. State colleges--many are now state universities, of course--developed. and the University was in the position of either developing and expanding to meet some of this need or else simply being left in the shade.
It did manage to retain its monopoly on really advanced graduate education. Some of the University's members, I think, would have been very happy if it could have retained that and shed all undergraduate responsibilities. But it was generally felt this wasn't a really viable arrangement--that the legislature and people of the state would not look kindly on this. Their interests would be where their kiddies were, and that, of course, would be in the other institutions that did mostly undergraduate teaching.
There was a whole series of plans--I've forgotten what they are, by and large. But at all events, it was clear that the University had to expand very quickly. Toward the end of his career, I think Sproul really didn't feel that this was his job. He had done a fine job. and he was, I think, a little inclined to rest on his laurels. And when Kerr was appointed as the first Berkeley Chancellor, he felt that he really had to make serious and extensive changes, to some degree in spite of the president.
Lage
You mentioned in one of our earlier conversations that Sproul really didn't want to give Kerr much power.
Constance
I don't think Sproul wanted to give away any real authority within the University. As I said. he ran it very much as a family. It's true he had a provost at UCLA, but Sproul's heart was at Berkeley. I mean. Berkeley was where the University was; all these other things were necessary and presumably viable, and you did the best you could with them. When you talked about the University of California, it was Berkeley--all over the country, all over the world. And that's where his heart was, which was kind of tough on people at UCLA, Santa Barbara, and other places.
It's true that Kerr had to fight to establish any kind of independence. It clearly had to come because you simply couldn't run what was rapidly becoming a multi-campus university by one person located at Berkeley or located anyplace else, as far as that goes.
At any rate, part of the changes that Kerr foresaw for Berkeley related to expansion, a careful tightening of standards, the careful examination of all the units to see if they were functioning properly and so on. The fact that I had worked with him to some extent when I was budget committee chairman, I suppose, made it very easy for him to visualize such a relationship--and I suppose for me, also, because I had and have great admiration for him. And while I hadn't given a great deal of thought to it, I think our general objectives were probably pretty much in harmony. I thought it was the best institution in the world. and I wanted to be sure it would stay that way or possibly get even better.
Lage
And he thought maybe it wasn't quite as good as everyone thought it was?
Constance
I think he thought that.
Lage
Or was he challenging you?
Constance
There was some of that, I suspect, and it certainly worked. But whether we really had that discussion at that point or later on, I'm sure I couldn't tell you.
At all events, I did agree after considerable discussion to accept the deanship. Of course, I didn't say anything about it until one of my younger colleagues came dashing in one day. He said, "I saw the list of departmental chairmen for next year, and you're not mentioned. What does that mean?" So that particular kitty was out of the bag. Somewhere it was said that
The Special Committee on Objectives, Programs, and Requirements
ConstanceI became dean on July 1, 1955. As I think I said earlier, my predecessor as dean, Alva Davis proposed a resolution to the faculty of the College of Letters and Science in 1954. [reading from a report] It says, "This resolution was introduced by Professor Alva R. Davis, then dean of the college, on behalf of the executive committee of the college. It provided for the appointment of a special committee of seven and directed this committee, `to formulate a statement defining the objectives of the college and to reexamine its major and curricular programs, together with its entrance, graduation, other requirements in reference to such objectives.' The committee is further directed upon completion of its studies to make a final report to the faculty of the college, in which it should make such recommendations as it judged advisable by which the college might better achieve its objectives."
And Sproul did, indeed, set up such a committee [the Special Committee on Objectives, Programs, and Requirements] by appointing nominees presented to him earlier by Professor Francis A. Jenkins who was vice-chairman of the faculty of Letters and Science. And this. then, led to a thorough report on the college.6
Lage
Did you get involved at all in preparing the report? The committee had already started when you became dean.
Constance
It was already started. I knew that I was going to be in the position of carrying out, or not carrying out, some of its recommendations. They had a series of meetings for the faculty on almost every aspect of the report. My recollection is that I attended most of them and that in most of them I listened. I was never a member of the committee. Committee membership changed from time to time. It started out with Griffith Evans as the initial chairman of the committee. He was the professor of mathematics for whom the Evans Hall is named. And then he was forced to withdraw--I don't know--for reasons of health or
[reading from a newspaper clipping] "Appointment was made on a joint recommendation by Sproul and Kerr... Davis retired from active duty as dean on June 30, 1954. But he was recalled to active service by the regents for the present year, 1954-55. Appointment of Professor Constance follows a considerable period of faculty consultation and study. In accordance with the bylaws of the Academic Senate, the Committee on Committees was requested by the Chancellor to nominate a panel of names of faculty members to serve on the special committee, whose charge would be to recommend candidates for the deanship. From the panel, a committee of senior faculty members of the Berkeley campus was chosen to survey the qualifications of prospective candidates. In its final report, the special committee recommended several names for the consideration of the university administration. Dr. Constance's name was chosen from this group and his candidacy was presented to and approved by the Regents at their April 22 meeting," and so on.
Lage
Actually. I looked in the University Archives. There were a lot of records of that committee, and you were overwhelmingly the favorite of them.
Constance
Oh, really?
Lage
It was surprising to me that any group could agree. You must have made your impression on the budget committee or--
Constance
I suppose that was it primarily, because the budget committee, I think, was pretty generally respected.
[looking through papers] I have all sorts of nice letters. Here's one from Ken Pitzer, dean of chemistry. One from one of my students, who writes, "God Almighty, it's happened!" [laughter] My students, of course, regarded it as a great defection from all that's right, normal, and moral.
Lage
What about graduate students that you were working with at the time? Did you continue to see them through?
Constance
Oh, yes, I saw them through. I had some all during the time I was in administration. [looking at letters] One from Carl Bridenbaugh of history; one from Norman Buchanan--he was from economics and was one of my fellow budget committee members; one from Richard Eakin, zoology--he had been a fellow graduate student; one from Will Dennes, who was then dean of the graduate division; one from Lawrence Kinnaird, who I learned died about six months ago at the age ninety-two; one from Milton Chernin; one from Dean Wurster of architecture; lots of them--one from the dean of librarianship.
A Close Tie Between Faculty and Administration
Constance[reading] "Constance Presents Opinion"--ha!
Lage
[laughs] That's the kind of thing you'd like to see in a headline. "Constance Presents Opinion."
Constance
Yes. Daily Californian, too.
Lage
Was that at the time of your appointment?
Constance
Yes. That was May 10, 1955.
To quote, "The wisest administration comes from the people who have worked in the college." As his examples, he pointed out William R. Dennes, dean of the graduate division, professor of philosophy; Chancellor Clark Kerr, professor of industrial relations; Alva R. Davis, professor of plant physiology, emeritus, and former chairman of the Department of Botany, who was Constance's predecessor as dean of the College of Letters and Science. He explained that some people make a career of being dean--dropping all of their activities--but Chancellor Kerr has a different idea of how deans should work. He feels they should be appointed to the deanship long before retirement age and continue to pursue their academic work so that after about five years of being dean, they can return to professorship. This way, the "deans have a better knowledge of the problems the professors in the University face, and there's far less chance of the dean's office becoming hopelessly lost in bureaucratic red tape."
##
Lage
Was this an idea that Kerr initiated or one that you did? It seems like it was a real concern of yours.
Constance
It was mutual. My predecessor, Davis, had gone into administration so that, with the intervention of the war and so on, he did retire at the end of it. The great problem with administrators is that they abandon their field of scholarship and then have no place to go, because a retired administrator is simply retired. period. The University is not quite as brutal as the big corporations, which essentially cashier them when they reach a certain age; hopefully, they've managed to feather their nests in the interim.
I remember discussing this with Kerr and saying. "Okay, if I have to do a stint of administration, great; look me up in ten to fifteen years and I'll be glad to think about it." I think I was forty-six at the time. My only understanding when we went into it was that I was going to accept the deanship for three years. By the time he announced it, it had become five years; by the time I got out of it, it was seven years.
Lage
That's the way those things happen.
Constance
At any rate, I remember his saying. "I need you now." I guess that's probably why I went in when I did. But we both agreed that the dean should continue to be active as scholar, as I think I said earlier. And I think it's right--I still believe in it. The University has become much more complicated. There is a much greater necessity for having all sorts of technical assistants of one kind or another. And there are more and more people who are purely administrative. I still think that, although some of this is necessary, it's regrettable.
Lage
It affects how the college is run, you think?
Constance
Yes, I think so. And I think it tends to put faculty and administration in separate categories, which I abhor. [looking again at the Daily Cal article] "Referring to the present investigation of the curriculum (this is the study I referred to), he said, `Nothing is ever perfect. Every few years we should take stock of ourselves and perhaps make a few changes. This study, which has been in progress for over a year and will take another year for completion may point out defects in the present lower division requirements for L & S students.' Speaking of duties for professors. he stated. `No professor can just give out information gleaned from other people and still be worthy of the name. On the other hand, professor must teach besides doing research. If you can't do both, you shouldn't be in the university." (I'm afraid the subject and the verb parted company there someplace.) "Asked how he felt about taking over the deanship. he said his reply would be about like Anthony Eden's when Churchill retired, with two differences: `I don't think he was really very much surprised. and he did want the job.' " I'm not sure that I said that, or not, but--
Lage
It sounds like you did.
Constance
It sounds as if I might have, you know.
XIV Enforcing New Requirements and Higher Standards in letters and Science
Breadth Requirements
LageDo you remember the process of getting the report of the special committee approved by the faculty? The committee prepared the report with a lot of research, it seems. and deliberation, and then it went to the faculty of the college.
Constance
That's right. I don't remember too much about it. Most of things that people disagreed about were pretty well settled in discussions before that.
Lage
So there was a lot of input to the committee deliberations?
Constance
That's correct. One of the things that was changed--perhaps the most profound change--was that the series of breadth requirements was set up. In the past, there was a long list of requirements, which kind of grew haphazardly. The moment you set up a series of requirements, of course, the students set out to figure out how to beat them. Given a few years, they will have completely emasculated every requirement you can set up, you can count on that.
There were various requirements which had diverted students in particular directions. So one distinguished department got, essentially, all its undergraduate students through one course. The reason it got students through one course is that that was the only alternative to taking a mathematics course, which many students would do anything to avoid. There were all sorts of little gimmicks like that. And as I say, the students master them all.
Lage
Finding the easiest way to satisfy the requirement, is that the idea?
Constance
Students finding the easiest way to satisfy requirements is as basic as water running downhill, as far as I'm concerned. I've observed it for many years, and they're very, very good at it. To some degree, the colleges have--unintentionally I think--fostered this.
At the time of registration--there was no preregistration--students all came and had to be there physically, and so as the campus population grew, so did the lines of students, which sometimes extended halfway across the campus, particularly for the most popular courses. The college, faced with the problem of "How do you handle this business?" which the students were, not surprisingly, very critical of, decided to enlist student assistants. So they got one of the student honorary groups, I think. to man desks and act as student advisors. Well, I discovered very quickly that what they were doing was telling the students the easiest way to satisfy requirements. So I discontinued the practice.
Lage
This was after the breadth requirements were introduced?
Constance
This was after breadth requirements came in. There was a laxity of requirements, which had developed over the years because, although I'm sure they were probably well thought out originally they had undergone steady erosion. That was, I think, the thing that the report addressed particularly.
Letters and Science as a Campus Dumping Ground
ConstanceOne of the other problems was that the College of Letters and Science was used essentially as a dumping ground for everybody on the campus; if you couldn't do it anywhere else, you could do it in Letters and Science. The college had the responsibility of admitting students for one, two, or three years who were planning to go on to a professional school of one sort or another. They could go into business administration at the end of two years. They could go into medicine if their grades were sufficiently good and they were accepted at the end of three years--that sort of thing. Law wouldn't take them until they had graduated. Engineering, fortunately, took its students at the freshman level and so did architecture. Chemistry did also; it had both a major in Letters and Science and one in the College of Chemistry proper. I think agriculture, perhaps, was the only other one that accepted freshmen. I've forgotten now but those were at least the principal ones. But Letters and Science students, of course, far outnumbered all the others.
Lage
So they all had different objectives and different requirements?
Constance
They all had different objectives; they had different requirements. Letters and Science had the authority only to admit them or to eliminate them. Medical students, for instance, if they went for three years in Letters and Science and then on to the University's medical school and did passably well in the first year, were retroactively given baccalaureate degrees from Berkeley.
The faculty didn't like this; I didn't like it. We decided that everybody who was in the college, now that we had some pretty straightforward requirements. would meet the requirements. This was particularly violently opposed with regard to foreign language. They were required to have two years of foreign language. My interpretation of this was that, since students would tend to defer this. they'd take them in the first two years, or else. So they took them the first two years, or else. And the students who were going into pharmacy and so on were very bitter about this because they had obviously put this requirement off for two years. and then, of course, they never had to take them. So it was a kind of battle of wills.
Lage
The language requirement seemed to be a controversial one among the faculty, too. Is that right?
Constance
To some degree, but not so much. Some of the faculty felt that students should have had language before they got to the University--that at the University, they should only be taking what were basically university-level language courses. The foreign language departments were not terribly keen about the great number of reluctant students they had thrust upon them.
Lage
But I would think it would help their budget and their staffing.
Constance
It did, but it was not entirely popular. I'm sure I was hated more for enforcing the foreign-language requirement than for anything else. But then, I used to get all sorts of complaints from students who had a "block" against foreign language. I used to say that a block against foreign language is certainly regretable, but I see no reason why you should give a bachelor's degree for it.
Lage
[laughs] Now what was you own personal feeling about why foreign language was such a central element in liberal arts education?
Constance
My personal feeling was that my experience with foreign language. limited as it was, was one of the most rewarding cultural experiences I ever had. I used to defend it when I talked to the students. I said. "Here is perhaps the only opportunity you will ever get to really look at the world from a different perspective." Well, of course, the sad part of it was that the way much of the foreign language was taught, they didn't get much of that. But they should have. I tried to get the foreign language departments to develop really cultural courses, so to speak. And some did. and some of them worked pretty well.
Strict Enforcement of Regulations
ConstanceI was very pragmatic about this sort of thing. If you have a requirement, you enforce the requirement. If it's not an enforceable requirement, if you decide you don't want it, then you change it and then you don't enforce it anymore. But none of this nonsense of having requirements and letting everybody duck them.
Lage
Had that been the case before, to grant exceptions freely?
Constance
That's right--that was the tendency. You know, you have students who don't want to do it, and so it becomes unpleasant to refuse. If you want to have nice relations with your students, you don't force them to do anything they damn well don't want to.
Lage
There were a few notes in the files from the Chancellor's Office about the complaints from students.
Constance
I'm sure--from some of the faculty, too.
Lage
They were mostly about the staff in the Letters and Science office and their treatment of the students.
Constance
There might have been some validity to some of these, but mostly not. We were getting a group of students who had always had everything they wanted. I remember my associate dean explaining to me why, when I talked to individual students, I couldn't seem to make any impact on them.
The students said, "I want to do so-and-so," and I said, "Well, unfortunately that's not possible under the college's rules. If you want to do that, then you should be somewhere where you can do that, but this isn't where." And they'd keep reiterating. "But, I don't want to do it." I said, "Well, that's regrettable, but you're going to if you're going to stay in the college."
I remember Ted McCown saying, "A lot of these students have never been said `no' to. Nobody has ever told them, `You damn well cannot do that,' and stuck to it." I damn well told them, and I stuck to it. So in that sense, I was really pretty nasty. But all I was doing, as far as I could see, was enforcing the regulations that had been very carefully put together by a series of superior faculty members. And I didn't think that the students' version of what was good for them outweighed these regulations.
And. of course, I was particularly hard on the athletes, who had been, at least according to campus mythology, the beneficiaries of a great many exceptions. I remember being called upon by one or another of the coaches and their aides, and I told them I was happy to assure them that the athletes were going to be treated exactly like everybody else--no problem.
Lage
Did they want exceptions on requirements. or changing a grade?
Constance
They wanted exceptions on everything, probably, but they didn't say so, naturally. I just said. "I assure you there will be no discrimination against athletes. They'll be treated like everybody else."
Well, we made some exceptions for them, as we did for students working part time, who were given a relaxation in the program; they were allowed to carry fewer units during the time when they were working. We did the same thing for athletes. During their active season, football players probably cannot carry a full load. Okay, so we'll reduce it to some fixed reduction which seemed to be reasonable, but we expect them to produce in their remaining courses.
The thing that caused the biggest uproar, though, was that a number of the students who were contemplating going into professional colleges--or at least said they were--were not accepted into the professional college unless they had a given gradepoint, so they stayed in the College of Letters and Science, which was strictly illegal. We had something like fourteen-hundred. if I remember, students in the college who were not under the jurisdiction of the college, who could not get into the professional school they wanted--they were just there and had no major.
Lage
Now, why were they not under your jurisdiction? They had been admitted into your college.
Constance
They had been admitted to our college. They were pre-professionals; we had nothing to say about it, excepting that we could throw them out.
Lage
Were their gradepoints up to the college's standards?
Constance
Probably not. Well, it didn't matter whether they were or not. This was in the report. There was the specification that every student, by the end of his second year, must have an approved major in the College of Letters and Science and be making reasonable progress to meet the college requirements. In other words, I tended to enforce all the college requirements, insofar as possible, in the first two years. But the professional people would have preferred to have let those go until their upper division years, and then they'd get out of them. I was not having any of that, so these students either had to get a major or go elsewhere.
And then there were a lot of students who had been eligible for dismissal and who were not dismissed. I took the view that if a student was eligible for dismissal, he would be dismissed unless there were overpowering reasons why he shouldn't be. You'd be surprised how few of those there really were. So there was a considerable slaughter--no question about it. I think, and I think most of the members of the college thought, that it was necessary, desirable, and probably long overdue.
Now, my predecessor, Dean Davis, was interested in the administrative organization--the budgetary side of the college--and he really made the college a budgetary unit. But he never really got into the student end of things, so it had just sort of accumulated over years. It was handled rather casually. There were faculty assistant deans, but since there was not very much concern about this at the top, there wasn't very much concern at their level either. Most of the decisions were made in the clerical office by clerical staff.
Lage
Giving exceptions? By clerical staff?
Constance
There were all sorts of horror tales about people who had been exempted from their entire foreign language requirement and so on. There was a strong suspicion that nice-looking white males got a great many more exceptions than other people. How much of this was true, I don't know, nor did I ever particularly want to find out. All I know was that it was changed.
I think I told you earlier that the clerks in the office had a list of exceptions that they could make to the rules without any approval. I abolished the list, saying that any exceptions we make will start with the rules. We had a series of assistant deans--four assistant deans--who handled students, who met with the students and kept appointments. A lot of things could be handled by the clerks, but when it came to exceptions to rules, they were solely in the hands of faculty
Judging Cases for Special Admissions
ConstanceOne point I did leave out, which I should mention, was that there had been created something called a general curriculum. Ideally, the general curriculum was a device to enable students with a personal, well-formulated plan to pretty much have free reign within the facilities the college had to offer. It was pointed out at various times that more Phi Beta Kappas came out of general curriculum than any other major area, which, as I said, was no surprise. Since you could subsist almost entirely on "Mickey Mouse courses" in general curriculum, you ought to be able to make Phi Beta Kappa; in fact, you ought to have your head examined if you couldn't.
Well, it became, like so many of those great ideas, a device to get rid of students who were regarded as inferior; it got them out of the departmental majors. If someone couldn't make it as an undergraduate in political science, okay, here was a place you could shunt him off to. And so it was a kind of cesspool, with some excellent students in it--no question about it--who liked that kind of independence.
Well, we corrected that with the help of my executive committee--I always had an excellent executive committee--and a change in personnel. I always tried these things on them. Not all the things, because a lot of them were clearly simply enforcement of rules already on the books. I wrote my own enforcement rules. I would usually check with the executive committee, and I usually had their endorsement. I was only moderately high-handed, as I recall. But I simply set higher admission requirements to general curriculum. Finally, I told the executive committee we couldn't handle it, and if they didn't abolish it, I would. So they did. A lot of people didn't like that. They felt I was destroying the liberality of liberal arts.
Lage
What about the problem of special admissions? I noticed several letters in the file where you were outraged at people being admitted who didn't meet the requirements.
Constance
I don't remember about special admissions, per se. We had something called a second baccalaureate, which may have been what you have in mind--I'm not sure. There were various kinds of admissions.
At any rate, the graduate division would not accept any student in graduate status unless he had achieved a baccalaureate--an approved baccalaureate. However, there were a number of students who were well-qualified for graduate work, but who were not quite at the stage of becoming full-time graduate students in a particular discipline because of change of interest, or because they came from an institution that lacked certain required courses, and so on.
So somebody at the University felt there should be some mechanism for this. Letters and Science being the general dumping ground, of course it was dumped on Letters and Science. I discovered that this was another minor cesspool, but I cleared it up without much difficulty. I simply made a B-average in the previous undergraduate work a requirement for entrance. They had to meet two requirements: They had to have a B-average in all their previous undergraduate work and they had to have an objective sufficiently meritorious that a dean or I would feel we could sell it to a California taxpayer who might wonder why he should finance two baccalaureates for the same student. This worked out pretty well.
One of our outstanding alumni through this route was the recent Governor Jerry Brown [son of the then Governor "Pat" Brown], who had an ecclesiastical undergraduate education with the objective of, presumably, entering the priesthood, but decided instead that he wanted to go into law. Graduate law schools were unlikely to accept at face value the theologically oriented courses he had taken. I was alerted by the University administration--by the President's Office, I suppose--that the governor's son was coming to seek admission for a second baccalaureate. I said, "That's fine. That's nicely taken care of. He will meet a clerk. The clerk will give him an appointment with an assistant dean or with me, and he will have the opportunity to convince the dean that (1) he has a B-average in all his previous work, and (2) his objective is sufficiently meritorious that it could be justified to a California taxpayer. I'm not going to intervene in any way. If he's assigned to me, fine; if he isn't, fine."
The only thing wrong is that I never found out who actually admitted him. But I think that, probably, the lack of respect for the University he showed as governor may very well have come from the fact that we didn't treat him somewhat more drastically. He went into classics, I think, and got a degree from classics
At any rate, another one was one of Hallinans--the senior Mrs. Hallinan. I got a call from the President's Office that Mrs. Hallinan was coming to enroll, and I told them the same thing. I would not intervene in any way; she would be treated exactly the same. I was told that not only was Mrs. Hallinan coming, but probably also her husband Vincent Hallinan, who had just served a term, I believe, at MacNeil Island for I suppose defying the witch-hunting committees of the fifties. And I said, "That's fine. We'll treat them exactly the same way." Whether they ever arrived or not, I don't know; neither of them ever entered. But at all events, we were prepared. Speaking of Hallinans, just as a footnote, I remember one student who appealed to me for a reduction of his student load because of other diversions was one of the younger Hallinans. This particular request was induced by the fact that his father was currently in the penitentiary. We reduced his load. What else could you do?
It seems to me I've wandered all over the deanship.
Lage
We're not through, though.
Constance
It gives you an idea of the authority of the dean. Let me add a couple of things.
One of them is that, as I said, I insisted that all students who wanted exceptions to the rules must have a satisfactory interview with an assistant dean. I usually did not see the students myself, unless they were particularly insistent, or particularly difficult, or the case was particularly remarkable for one reason or another. I agreed I would see the toughest cases that they could dream up.
I remember one very frustrating interview. A very attractive young woman came in who had an absolutely perfect record. I can't remember what it was she wanted; it was absolutely trivial. And it was very pleasant. But after she left, I went out and asked one of the clerks, "Why in the world did you send her to me?" She said. "Well, we thought you ought to see a good student for a change." [laughter]
Mostly, I saw the three-time losers, and so on. It gave me a somewhat warped view, I'm sure.
Lage
I bet it did--a warped view of the students who were trying to get around the system.
Constance
I didn't get all the students who were trying to beat the system. My assistant deans got a bunch of them. But I remember the most difficult ones were those who were being dismissed; there's no question about that. There were often reasons somewhat beyond their control and so on; but we had a policy, which I think is probably still maintained in some form or another. If they went down one semester, okay--one quarter--that could happen to anybody. But, by the next semester, they ought to be well on their way back up. If they were still going down--out! And this. of course, was very bitter medicine. I did not do it for reasons of persecution or whatever, but because I simply observed that a student who once started down kept going, but faster, if something didn't interrupt his fall. And the something might be almost anything. but one of the best things to do was get them the hell out as fast as you could. That was fine for me to think. but, of course, was very difficult for them. I remember more than one fighting back tears, saying. "I'll show you." I looked him in the eye and said, "I don't think you're man enough."
Crusader against Misuse of University Extension
LageWas the "I'll show you" a promise of making it up at another campus?
Constance
Well, whatever. Of course, the big problem was that there was no obvious way for them to make it up. What they wanted to do, of course, was to go to University Extension. And that was one of my crusades.
Lage
That was another issue I wanted to bring up. I saw that was something you felt very strongly about.
Constance
I was a crusader against the the misuse of University Extension-- not because I don't think an outreach program, or whatever you want to call it, or adult education, is desirable--but because it was being misused. Because students who wouldn't or couldn't get passing grades in a program comparable to those of other students could get around it by going to summer school or taking correspondence courses. They'd flunk Math 1, and get an A in the summer session or by correspondence. And they'd come back and say, "See, I've got all these wonderful grades."
Lage
And then they used those to make up grade points?
Constance
That's right. So I ruled. again I'm sure with the concurrence of my executive committee. But we couldn't do anything about a student who had not yet come into the college. We had to take
##
Constance
There were other abuses that happened through Extension. Extension had the problem of having to pay its own way. So there was a strong motivation to encourage people to take more and more extension courses. There were at least three examples, that I recall, in which this clearly was abused.
There was some chap on Guam who was taking correspondence courses by Extension. I've forgotten how many units he had by then, but I think there were enough probably to graduate him two or three times over. It didn't fit any sensible pattern. There was somebody who wrote from Brazil with a similar situation. And there was an Indian living on the Hupa reservation in northern California. I think she had at least enough units to graduate three times.
Lage
And she was asking that a degree be granted?
Constance
But even in Extension she had hardly gotten a single passing grade. I was accused of being anti-Indian and all sorts of things. Someone in the President's Office promised her that, if she took "x" more units and got passing grades, she would be admitted. This was strictly illegal.
Lage
Wasn't there a residency requirement? You had to take a certain amount on the campus?
Constance
Exactly. But of course, all the pressures were to try to get an exception. So I waged warfare with Extension. I used to say that if Extension ever got a new building. they would have a model of my head in the front lobby. But I must have been supported by people in the Chancellor's and President's Offices or I could never have gotten away with it. But they were clearly abusing their prerogatives.
That doesn't mean that all Extension was like that; but it had no place, as I saw it, to give undergraduate work or remedial high school work for students in the University. We wanted full control of our students' programs. Our job, it seemed to me, was to try to see that they got the best education possible. And if we couldn't control what they were taking, we couldn't very well advise them. So I pretty much won those battles.
Maintaining Standards: The Problem of Junior College Transfers
LageDid Kerr, or anyone else in the administration, ever put a little more pressure on you in specific cases?
Constance
Well, I'll give you one. When [Glenn] Seaborg was chancellor, there was a meeting in the President's House on the Berkeley campus of the administrators of the junior colleges. This was another bone of contention.
The junior colleges, not surprisingly, wanted to have the requirements at each campus of the University all the same for admission at the junior level. That made good sense for them. They could prepare students and then know that a student who finished could go to Santa Barbara or San Diego or Davis or Berkeley or wherever.
The junior colleges used to have two separate lineages or curricula. One was terminal, and usually vocational; the other was college preparatory. As long as they kept them separate, there was no great problem. But for economic or other reasons, they tended to combine them and thus to weaken the college preparatory program. Not only that, they tended to attempt to bargain with the different campuses. If they could get one campus to accept one of their courses as an equivalent to a University course, then they felt the whole University should accept it. On the contrary, I thought the University should not accept it unless we had really good evidence from the past performances of students that, indeed, it was comparable. A lot of them clearly were not. They were often clearly downgraded, diluted, simply not what they were supposed to be. So, I refused to accept the argument that if one campus accepted it, everybody else had to. We weren't going to accept anything which we did not think was adequate.
At this particular meeting. we were to meet with the junior college people to see what their gripes were. My recollection is that it was a pleasant meeting. It think it was cocktails, and we were all having a nice time. I think Clark Kerr was hosting it, and he said, "Most of the criticisms I've heard of the University seem to involve transfers from junior college to the University, and Lincoln, I guess that means you."
Well, I really wasn't quite prepared for this. but I said, "I realize there are strains. Transfer from one institution to another is probably never easy." I said. "If the junior colleges want us to cooperate with them to raise the standard of their courses. why, we certainly would be delighted to. If they want us to lower ours to match theirs, the answer is no." [laughter]
You could hear a few cocktail glasses drop, but actually it was very friendly. I think I got a little more respect than before out of the junior college people, although probably not everybody was happy about it.
I think I ran a pretty taut ship. I had excellent help in my deans; I had a very good staff. I had the backing of the Chancellor, and I was trying to do exactly what he had asked me to do, which was to clean up the college and make it a first-rate operation. And I think. by and large, we were pretty successful.
Lage
Did the college have the authority to decide if a junior college course was comparable and would be counted. or was that the job of the University registrar or whom?
Constance
It was the Admissions Office. Otherwise, if I could have controlled it completely, I wouldn't have had to fight with any of the administrators up the line. But as I recall, we simply exerted pressure on them, particularly when we found students who were floundering because of this sort of thing.
It came up particularly with regard to foreign language, as you might guess. The students would come in with two years of--I can't remember quite how the equivalency was judged. I think two years of high school French, let's say, supposedly added up to one year of college French, so they should move right into the second course. Of course, most of them flunked it flat--or many of them did--and that, of course, is why foreign language was such a hurdle. If they had not had any prior language course. they probably would have come out all right. If they'd had any, it was a disaster. This was true with a number of other things as well.
Of course there's always a lot of jockeying around about Subject A. I once recommended that passage of Subject A be a requirement for admission to the College of Letters and Science. Of course, I was shouted down.
Lage
There are an awful lot of students who don't pass Subject A.
Constance
That's quite right.
Lage
It would have cut down your student body considerably, or improved the high schools sooner.
Constance
I don't know. You never can tell. It's awfully hard to know what works. But I remember--and I may have told you this, too-- going somewhere in a plane with Bill Fleming, who was then dean of dentistry at San Francisco and later was acting chancellor.
But most of these things worked out pleasantly. I mentioned that L & S was the kind of place on campus which wasn't something else. It was defined almost entirely negatively. I never knew when I enforced a requirement of some sort what would happen. Suddenly I would get a scream from the other end of the campus, and I had no idea whatever that pre-dentistry students were taking a course in sculpture or something. Or there was some particular course that was specially tailored for somebody way off somewhere else. When you really put the screws into it, why, somebody got wounded. I had no visible way of knowing it. So there were always little things of this sort.
I remember one of the professional deans at one of the Chancellor's councils of deans getting up and saying. "Who does the dean of L & S think he is?" And I got up and said, "Anybody who thinks I accepted the deanship of L & S to preside over the cesspool of the campus ought to have another think."
So there were a few interesting moments from time to time, but mostly I had very harmonious relations. I used to have a lot of fencing with Mike O'Brien. who was the dean of engineering. But by and large, we got along very well because engineering admitted its own freshman, and Mike did not want people in other colleges of the University trying to go through engineering when they weren't admissible to it. Some of the students in the pre-professional group were trying desperately to get into engineering. Some of them had been trying to get into engineering for five years. and God knows, they'd never get into engineering. And of course, they weren't getting an education either.
Lage
What about engineering--did they use some of your classes, though, to round out their students' education?
Constance
Oh, yes.
Lage
They didn't try to present comparable courses?
Constance
That wasn't a great problem, but there were always some matters of that sort. Engineering. at one point, considered setting up its own English department, and its own mathematics department, a few things like that; but budgetary restraints, probably, took care of that pretty well.
XV Administering the College of Letters and Science, 1955-1962
[Interview 7: March 13, 1986]##
Staff Changes
ConstanceI probably should say, about at this point, that the College staff changed very quickly. Not that I tossed people out; Marjorie Carlson, who had long been in charge of the student end of things, retired by dint of reaching the retirement age. I inherited three assistant deans and one associate dean from my predecessor. I also inherited one administrative assistant, Barbara Annis, who had been with the University for many years and had at one time been personal secretary to Provost Monroe Deutsch and who knew the University intimately.
But I had to appoint a new administrative assistant in charge of the student end of affairs. I was very fortunate in getting Beatrix Bakker, who had worked in the Office of Admissions and who was very familiar with the University's processing of student admissions and so on. She had very high standards and was very tough, so we had a great meeting of minds and things worked out very well.
The other major appointment I really made to some extent at Kerr's insistence, I suppose; he simply said it was ridiculous for me to have charge of a budget that covered at least half of the campus's activities and not have some kind of a budget officer. So, I appointed Edward Feder, who was then in what is now the Institute of Governmental Affairs. It was then a bureau under the direction of Samuel May [Bureau of Public Administration]. But, Mr. Feder is still with Letters and Science and has become associate dean and assistant provost. Feder is absolutely devoted to Letters and Science, and his knowledge of it is second to nobody's.
Lage
So he's provided a lot of continuity.
Constance
That is correct. They both turned out to be superb appointments, so I was very fortunate in that.
Lage
When you picked Edward Feder, how did you choose him?
Constance
I actually chose him on the recommendation of Milton Chernin, who was then Dean of Social Welfare. I believe he was the only candidate I looked at seriously. Chernin said, "The person you want is Ed Feder." And he was so right.
Lage
What was his role, then?
Constance
His role was budget officer, essentially. The way we worked on budgets when I started was rather ridiculous on the face of it. Davis, my predecessor, was the first budgetary dean, as I mentioned, of Letters and Science. He and Miss Annis, the administrative assistant, simply took last year's budget and projected next year's.
Lage
Without much change?
Constance
Without much change and without much basic research. And I did the same thing. But the point is that both of us had learned a lot about the constituent departments and so we weren't simply whistling in the wind. For several years Feder used to come back in astonishment after working things out very, very carefully, saying, "My God, how did you people know that?" [laughter] And I used to say, "Well, what the hell do you think I've been doing for the last `x' years?" So some things, probably, we didn't detect, but we knew the major problems, we knew the weak areas, we knew the strong areas, and so on.
A Decentralized Approach: Departmental Authority
LageLet's talk just a little bit more about that--about what the budgeting involved and how the figures were reached. The departments must have had something to do with the budget.
Constance
Everything originated in the departments. In fact, in this system, basically, everything does originate in departments. Appointments originate there, budgetary proposals, and so on. And the system, unless it's changed greatly, is quite unlike that in many universities and colleges where higher levels of the administration initiate a great many of these different things.
I may have mentioned earlier that in attending a meeting of the land grant colleges and universities, I found that my role as dean was entirely different from that at most other land grant schools. There, the deans essentially initiated the appointments. Presumably, they had gotten some promptings or suggestions from departments, but they initiated the appointments themselves.
Lage
So, at this university decentralization is more the rule?
Constance
Well, I suppose the answer is that the departments really arose before the colleges, by and large; at least the departments were budgetary in Letters and Science long before the college was. The college dean was simply a curricular officer, who was imposed, you might say, almost arbitrarily on the departments. The departments were the real operating, working centers. I don't think anybody really wanted to change that very much, because I think that's part of the strength of the University-- that the people closest to the local situation probably know the most about it; but you do have to have some check on them.
Lage
Especially if resources are limited.
Constance
That's correct. To some extent, during the era that I was dean, lack of resources was not really the greatest limitation on things. With strong departments, it was mostly a matter of control; if given their head, some would have liked to appoint all the stars in the field in the country. I can think of one chairman I used to say would be an ideal one if you could cut his telephone cord. He loved to start the morning by calling up all his colleagues around the country, asking them how they would like to come to Berkeley. When he didn't have any openings in the staff, this could be a little embarrassing.
On the other hand, with weaker departments the problem was pretty much the opposite. You might say they didn't want to be strengthened. If you get mediocrity established in a pretty much self-perpetuating faculty, all it breeds is greater mediocrity because you don't look so mediocre if the people that are surrounding you are at least as mediocre as you are.
Reforming Weak Departments
LageNow how did you become aware that certain departments were mediocre?
Constance
The quickest way to find out was where the students went.
Lage
[laughing] You mean they went to the mediocre ones, or they didn't?
Constance
They did.
Lage
But not at the graduate level, right?
Constance
No, not at the graduate level. Remember, I was basically an undergraduate dean.
I'll give you an example. When I faced my first operations under a new budget, I found that there were three departments that were oversubscribed by students. In each case, my predecessor had written very carefully to the chairmen of the departments saying, "I am no longer dean, and any decision is up to my successor. But if I were still dean, I would, in essence, approve your request." And the requests were for more staff to teach in the departments of Speech, Italian, and Decorative Art. I looked into these and discovered not too surprisingly that these were, indeed, essentially the three weakest departments in the college; or at any rate, they had generally available elementary courses which were known not to be rigorous and into which the students poured in great numbers, doubtless in search of excellence. And one of the first things I had to do was to appeal to the Regents for, if I remember it, an unbudgeted $20,000, simply to meet the staffing requirements in these areas because there was no way I could really close down the courses after the students had registered.
Lage
Now this must have been just certain courses--certain beginning levels.
Constance
Well, Italian was known to be easy. Not only that, but there were different requirements of numbers of classes for a given number of units. If I remember correctly--and I may not-- perhaps French had five meetings a week for four units, German had four meetings a week for four units, but everybody thought German was more difficult than French. On the other hand, Italian had four units and had four meetings--and everybody knew Italian was easier than German. So students had it all figured out. All you had to do was see where the students went and you found out where your weak spots were.
Lage
So would this mean that the department as a whole was weak, or that they just offered one or two lead courses?
Constance
There was some of both, although those three departments were spectacularly weak. There wasn't any question about that. Speech had become an alternative for English because students were expected to take either English or speech at the beginning of their career, and speech sounded easier than English. Some
As I said, a weak department normally gets weaker, in the first place because everybody knows the department is weak and the general reaction is, "Why throw good money into a weak situation?" So whether at Kerr's suggestion or my own initiative, over time I fell back on the technique of appointing a faculty committee to look at an ailing department and see what could be done about it. I found this very effective. I tried to use some of the most distinguished members of the faculty; among others, I remember using Professor Bertrand Bronson in English to chair a committee. I used S. Griswold Morley, who was at one time chairman of the Department of Spanish and Portuguese. I used James Hart of The Bancroft Library and the English Department. [going to files] My memory deserts me, as usual. I know where to find them, but it takes a moment. [searching through files] Madison Beeler from German and linguistics. All of those, at one time or another, chaired committees for me on, among others, the departments of Italian and of Near Eastern Languages.
I had a committee on Slavic; it wasn't really because the department was so weak but because the chairman was retiring and there were some problems about the department or perhaps Kerr thought there were--I don't remember. At any rate, this device worked out very well. I could not always follow the complete suggestions of the committee, but at least they gave me good guidance. From what I knew, from what my executive committee knew, from what the Chancellor knew from various sources, we usually had a pretty good line on things.
Lage
And then what kind of changes would be in order?
Constance
Well, staffing changes, primarily. Very often, the chairmanship of the department was a problem. If a strong chairman was retiring, now where do you go? Well, we've had at Berkeley--and I trust we still have--a system whereby faculty members in any given department indicate their preferences. I think that my predecessor had started this. I'm sure I didn't but I certainly used it.
Or sometimes, you might simply decide: This group is a forward-looking group, this group is dragging its heels, this group is strong, this group is weak. We had better take the bull by horns and take the strong person here, but perhaps back him or her up with a vice-chairman that is more more acceptable across the board.
Lage
So it's primarily politics?
Constance
Oh, there's politics in it. One of the most successful moves we made was to appoint Andreas Papandreou, who is now the controversial premier of Greece, chairman of Economics with Emily Huntington as vice-chairman. That really worked out very well. The department was very badly split, and I think Kerr pushed at least as strongly as I did in deciding that Papandreou was needed to lead Economics into the new world, so to speak. But he certainly would have had very serious trouble if he hadn't had Emily, whom everybody loved, working with him. So that worked out ideally. It didn't always work that well.
One of the problems, since you mentioned departments and administrative problems, was rotation of chairmen. The University has a policy--I'm not sure how explicit it is, but it's generally understood that administrative officers rotate. At Berkeley, at least in my experience in the College of Letters and Science, department chairman rotated on about a three- to five-year basis. But there were a few chairmen who went on more or less forever. Just prior to my regime, I think, Raymond Birge was chairman of physics for twenty-three years. I don't know how long Carl Sauer was chairman of geography, but probably too long.
One of my problems was Walter Fischel, who was chairman of Near Eastern Languages, I think, for fifteen years. This problem, this particular one, was of those in which I utilized a committee of faculty members outside the department. I had a departmental revolt on my hands. All the younger members of the department called on me and said the situation in
One of the ways of strengthening a department, as I mentioned, was by appointment. Again, with a weak department the chances are that you would not get a recommendation for a strong appointment. And while I think the idea of appointing most faculty at the beginning levels and then monitoring them carefully and promoting the deserving--rapidly, if necessary--is the strongest way to build, it still is necessary to go outside from time to time. Only once did I ever go recruiting myself, and that was at Kerr's suggestion, and that was with regard to Italian. We had a peculiar situation: a chairman whose prime interest in Italian was the introduction of Italian into the high schools. This was almost a nationalistic enterprise.
Lage
Was he Italian himself?
Constance
He was of Italian origin. He staffed by getting young people from Italy. About the time they learned English after teaching for a few years, he said, "They're no good. We should fire them and get some more." By this scheme, he became and remained the only tenured member of the department. He essentially dared me to do anything about it. So I accepted the dare.
Lage
Sounds like it was just what you needed.
Constance
Exactly. And that's, I think, where I used Bronson as chairman of a committee. I think what we had was three junior Italian staff members and the committee recommended that--if I remember correctly--one be let go and two be promoted. That's what we did.
Well, I went back to Cambridge to meet with a former faculty member of Italian, who at that time was teaching at Harvard. He didn't agree to come; apparently he had already agreed to go to Johns Hopkins, but was not entirely free to tell me about it. He did recommend one of his students, who was then teaching at the Catholic University of America in Washington; that was Arnolfo Ferruolo.
Ferruolo came and really built the Italian department as I wanted it built. I mentioned that Italian had a special attractiveness because it had fewer class meetings than French, let's say, for the same number of units. I suggested that it institute a fifth class meeting and that this really be a
Lage
How did you deal with the gentleman who had been in charge of it for so long?
Constance
He was rotated out of the chairmanship. If he didn't retire at that time, he retired shortly thereafter and the move was made. I can't say that all my attempts worked out as well, but at least--
Lage
It was a good case study of how a big change could be made.
Constance
Yes, these were mechanisms.
Lage
Of course, that was a small department, and it must have been easier to effect change.
Constance
The real problems were in the smallest departments because there were no alternatives, you see. You might have a department of two or three people, one of them strong, another weak, and a third one may be a good scholar, but nobody could visualize him as chairing anything. And that can be a problem in universities. While I think that most faculty members can administer, there are some who are sure they can't, and there are some who simply won't, for reasons that are diverse and may or may not be compelling.
A Distinguished Roster of Assistant and Associate Deans
ConstanceYou asked about assistant deans. That might be appropriate to bring up at this point. Professor Edward Strong was associate dean for my predecessor, Professor Davis--Dean Davis. The first thing I did when I became dean was to ask Ed if he would continue with me as associate dean, but he very graciously declined. He said he had been devoting a lot of time to administration and he'd like to get back to his own work. That seemed reasonable to me, and in a way, it gave me a freer hand. I inherited three or four assistant deans from my predecessor and a couple of them stayed with me for a while. We tried to keep the deans only for a term of something like three years. I felt that that was long enough. And I was also concerned about getting young men very early in their careers because I was afraid that this might lead them away from their primary obligations to instruction and
Lage
At least tenured or beyond?
Constance
Well, they couldn't all be tenured, but most of them were. I think I got my numbers wrong because there must have been, I think, five assistant deans. One of them was considerably senior to the others, Charles Aikin in Political Science.
Lage
Was he one of the ones you inherited?
Constance
He was one of those I inherited. The difference between him and the others was that he said he was always in the minority on any decisions, so he sounded like my man. He was a tremendous help to me in my beginning days in the office because he believed the University of California to be the greatest place on earth, and that there was nothing we couldn't do. He said that in his department one of the chairmen at one time or another would say, "Well, we can't hold so-and-so. He could get a job at one of the better universities in the country." He found this offensive. So did I.
We had to have a pretty steady supply of assistant deans. So we had discussions about how we should go about this. Should we go after the people we thought we could get, or should we go after the people we'd like to have but didn't think we could get? We quickly decided we would do the latter.
I can't remember now the exact sequence of asking people, but I do remember that one of the first people I approached was Robert Connick in chemistry. He is one of the ablest members of the Berkeley faculty, who has been vice-chancellor, and dean of chemistry, and held about every academic office you can think of. I didn't really expect to get him because although chemistry has a major in the College of Letters and Science, or did then at any rate, it was also a separate college and had its own larger major there. He did me the favor of thinking it over for the weekend, but then said he just didn't feel he could do it because Wendell Latimer had just died and left him with additional responsibilities.
I wanted a physical scientist. I had tried to get assistant deans in each of the major subject areas of the college. I turned to William Fretter. I had thought about him earlier, but I knew he was engaged in a lot of different things--he had been a member of the L & S study committee--and I felt I shouldn't ask him to do anything else. Well, Fretter did come. He served as assistant dean, and one year as associate dean, and then succeeded me as dean.
##
He eventually became vice president of the University with President Saxon and served as acting president until David Gardner came. He said that I was the one who started him down the primrose path to administration.
Lage
Do you remember particularly how you recruited them? Did you use--?
Constance
I used any information I could get. From my experience on the budget committee--
Lage
You already knew people across the campus.
Constance
I knew a lot of people, that's right. That was the wonderful thing about the budget committee and probably the reason I was where I was anyway--because I did know people, and if I didn't know someone, I knew where to ask. Of course, I got conflicting views, but usually I could filter these out.
I had served under Connick on the Committee on Educational Policy, so I knew him personally. I knew most of these people personally. Then Peter Odegard, who was chairman of the Department of Political Science, retired and Aikin was chosen as chairman. This, clearly, was the office that he most valued on campus, so I was left without an associate dean.
I turned to Theodore McCown, whom I had known from the editorial and budget committees, and he was one of the most effective appointees I could possibly have had. He served with me for five of my seven years as dean. Aikin was associate dean first, and then Ted McCown was associate dean for five, and he resigned his post a year before I left the deanship. He was from anthropology, and he was a perfectionist. In essence, I gave him authority for the student-end of things, although I never entirely retreated from it. We had weekly meetings of the deans, and cases that the deans felt they did not wish to decide individually were brought there, and we hammered them out. I remember one assistant dean coming to me after a meeting and saying, "I shouldn't be on there. I should get off because I disagree with everybody. I'm tougher than they are." I said, "I know it. You're tougher than I am, and that's why I need you." [laughter]
Lage
So you weren't the toughest member of this group?
Constance
Hopefully not. Some of them were younger than I. When you're younger, you're tougher--I think. You haven't seen so many reasons for problems, I think. But the system worked very well. Nobody ever got his way completely, and if I found I thought
Lage
Philosophically, were the deans pretty much in tune with each other?
Constance
Yes. I'm sure they wouldn't have stayed on if they hadn't been. I had a superb group of people. Really, if you look at the people who have been prominent in the campus from Letters and Science over the years since then, I had a good share of them. Bill Bouwsma, professor of history, who later became vice-chancellor; Charles Muscatine from English, who developed a little honors college of his own--there are a whole series of them--really very distinguished people from all over Letters and Science. So, I think it was a very good learning experience for them, and it certainly worked well for the college's standards and so on.
One of the problems was that, as I mentioned earlier, the departments were really here and operating as the centers of activity, and in most respects, responsibility, and the college was kind of imposed on top of them. I'm sure if you had asked them a few years before my deanship what college they belonged to, they would have had to scratch their heads, "Let's see, do we belong to a college?"
One of the ideas of the study committee had been to make the college a college, period. This was one of my concerns, in a way, with Kerr because he felt--and various other people felt from time to time--that the college was too big. Some people objected because it tended to dominate the campus. That probably wasn't Kerr's objection. Kerr thought it would be stronger if it were divided into parts, and I was adamantly opposed to its being divided into parts. I said, "Maybe at some future time. But before you divide it, you had better be sure that people know they're in a college. Then you can worry about that."
Subsequently, divisional deans were created, and although the college has still stayed together to date, how much longer it will, I don't know.
Lage
So the divisional deans would take one area like biological sciences?
Constance
That's right. I didn't use my deans that way. I used them solely for student interviews and making decisions on the student end of things.
Lage
They didn't get into the budgetary--?
Constance
They didn't get into budgetary things. Undoubtedly. I asked some of them for information from time to time.
Lage
How about faculty promotion decisions--did they get into that?
Constance
No. The promotion thing went entirely independently of that part of the college. From time to time, if I had to be away or something of the sort, I would ask my associate dean to stand in for me. I only had three associate deans, Aikin for a year, McCown for five, and Fretter for one. So all of them did get into the decision-making process.
If you go into decision-making---of course, the dean at that time was, not final on any promotion. He merely recommended to the Chancellor. But, at the same time, I was the only dean of a college who met regularly with the Chancellor. So, in a way, I had a second chance at all recommendations. Also, I arranged to have the special privilege of seeing the budget committee comments before I made my recommendation, which the other deans did not have. They made their recommendation and then the budget committee made its, and the two sets of recommendations and the budget committee's went together to the chancellor. The other deans, of course, frequently felt they had been undone at that level.
Lage
Now, why did you insist on seeing the budget committee recommendation?
Constance
Because I knew the budget committee and what it could do, and the kind of information it had, and the kind of integrity it showed. Also, I had umteen more faculty members and departments than anybody else on campus. I had nearly half the campus. It's one thing to operate as a college with a single school or department; it's something else to operate with something like fifty departments.
Lage
So you wanted to use the budget committee's recommendations and comments?
Constance
I needed them. I felt that my decisions or recommendations would be infinitely better if I had that information. And Kerr agreed and let me do it. Some of the other deans were not happy about it and I can understand that. Over the course of time, I think more and more effort has been made to give the other deans a better chance to rebut by giving them at least the gist of comments that have been made and so on.
Lage
It sounds as if you didn't want to use it to rebut the budget committee.
Constance
No, I wanted their help. I figured they probably knew more about it than I did.
Lage
The other deans seemed to feel differently, is that what I'm gathering?
Constance
[pauses] It's a little hard to say, isn't it? I think deans tend to want their own way, shall we say. I don't know the intimate workings of most of the professional schools, but I would guess that there was considerably less faculty input in most of the colleges compared to Letters and Science. There probably were exceptions--I don't know. Chemistry might well be an exception. But I had the feeling that many of the professional colleges were run much as the colleges I mentioned in other land grant institutions, where the dean made the decisions, including personnel and whatever. But there probably were all degrees of it. All I know is the way L & S was in my day.
Lage
How did the College of Chemistry develop its own college?
Constance
Well, it developed its own college because of the strength, I suspect, of [Gilbert N.] Lewis, who was the chemistry great. I don't know quite when he started; I really don't know the history of the College of Chemistry excepting that chemistry had a very strong faculty and I would imagine that whoever was president essentially gave him a blank check and said, "How would you like to organize it?" So that's the way he organized it. Chemistry's had very, very strong traditions, very strong faculty, and they liked it that way.
The natural place for chemistry to be would be in Letters and Science. Well, Lewis also developed a faculty, or a curriculum, of chemical engineering, which really is an applied arrangement and would be essentially out of place in the College of Letters and Science. So the question is, "What would you do with it?" Well, one place you might put it is in engineering. The chemists, at least, felt that they could do a lot better job on it than the engineers could. So they didn't want to be there. It wouldn't be appropriate in Letters and Science. So I think we have, or had, the only chemical engineering program in the country which is not in a school or college of engineering. There were some elegant rows about that. At one time, engineering started building up a program in process engineering, which seemed to be the same thing. I seem to remember that I was given the job of reporting on this and trying to work out a compromise, but at just what stage of my career, I've forgotten--probably fortunately.
Lage
It seems like something you wouldn't have to worry about in L & S.
Constance
No, I was co-opted to do it. Whether it was from the budget committee or my deanship or the vice-chancellorship, I've forgotten.
Lage
Well, I took us off the track, there.
Constance
No, that's all right. I was trying to point out how things worked.
Working with Chancellor Kerr
ConstanceAt one time, rather early in my deanship, Kerr suggested that perhaps I ought to move over to Dwinelle Hall where we could work more closely together. I told him I enjoyed very much working with him, but I had a feeling we would get along a lot better if we stayed where we were.
Lage
Now where were you?
Constance
I was over in Sproul Hall.
Lage
You were in Sproul--was he in Dwinelle?
Constance
He was in Dwinelle. I felt that I could manage the college better if it were pretty clearly an institution of its own. If I were next to the Chancellor. I didn't think I would have, shall we say, the maximum opportunity to exercise my independence. He accepted it.
Lage
Was there any problem that way, of his maybe taking too much interest in the college?
Constance
He felt the college was vital to the campus, and he felt that it had been in bad shape. I think examples are probably better that any generalizations I might try to make. As I said, I used to see him weekly, and he always had a list of topics. We'd sometimes go down a list of, say, twenty-five different topics--things he wanted me to do. or comments he had, or things he wanted me to look into and so on. We never got through that list, because next week he'd have another twenty topics or so, and maybe we'd get fifteen of them done. I took notes on them and we both had copies; unfortunately, I didn't keep mine. But I remember one afternoon after the usual weekly session, there still were a number of topics to go. He looked at the list a little dejectedly and said, "It doesn't seem to me that we ever get through the list." I said, "It doesn't to me, either." He said, "You know, we'll really have to fly to Los Angeles together sometime and see if we can't clean up the list."
So, there was a Regents meeting down there, which for some reason I had to go to, or else I had to go down for some other reason. So we found ourselves flying to Los Angeles. We sat together and I remember Regent [Donald H.] McLaughlin came along and spoke to Kerr. Kerr greeted him and said, "Well, Constance and I have some work to do." So McLaughlin went and sat elsewhere, and we worked together all the way to Los Angeles; I don't think we got the list done. Sometime later, I was looking at this list, and I made some remark about it. Then I discovered that Kerr had a second list, and I remarked about that. He said, "I started that with your predecessor, but I didn't think he'd ever do any of these things, so I saved it for you." [laughter] So we kept going down the list, and that way we could compare notes on all sorts of things.
Kerr was very sensitive to comments that came from outside, and I'll confess that I resented this at times. I suppose that any senior administrator has to listen, but some of the comments were strictly inappropriate; people were talking about things they didn't know anything about.
Lage
People who came to him with complaints?
Constance
That's right. They wrote, or a regent told him, or something; and of course, he had to look at those. I always thought he paid a little too much attention to them. But I enjoyed very much working with him; he was wonderful to work with. I had great respect for him, and he seemed to have respect for me--which didn't mean he didn't tell me to stir my stumps on something occasionally, if he felt it wasn't changing the way he thought it ought to or going the way he thought it ought to.
Lage
So would he inquire of you what was going on in the Department of Italian--something that specific?
Constance
Something of that sort, al though I'd tell him probably, or we'd decide, "What are we going to do about it?" One of the things--we decided jointly on all the chairmanships. I would bring him the results of the poll. We'd discuss them, and I'd ask, "Now what do we do? This one is clear--eighty percent of the people have opted for this individual, he's clearly qualified, he's a scholar in his field, he's respected outside the University--no problem. This one-three votes here, four there, seven there. What's the problem? How do these people line up?" So he participated very actively in guiding the way things developed; but still, he left it to me to work out. He obviously put a good deal of stock in what I told him, when I told him what my impressions were.
Lage
Did you know people on campus more than he?
Constance
Yes--at least he thought so. [laughs] The Kerrs occasionally gave a reception for chairmen, deans, or whatever--all sorts of groups--at their home in El Cerrito, which they had rebuilt in such a way that it had a considerable area. I remember being there once for some reception of that sort. Clark and I were talking and Kay Kerr, his wife, came over and said, "Lincoln, you know everybody. Get out there and introduce people!" So of course, I went out and tried to introduce people. The first thing I did was to misintroduce an engineer to somebody else. I never did get all the engineers straightened out--they weren't in L & S.
But Clark, at affairs of that sort, used to ask me, "Who's that, who's that, who's that?" I probably did know more individuals than he did, at first. I had the reputation of knowing everybody, which of course, I didn't. But, I knew a lot of people from the budget committee, plus my Letters and Science--
Lage
Well, being in charge of L & S--over half the campus.
Constance
That's right. So, I knew a lot of people, and so perhaps I could assist him in that way. It was a great challenge working with him. I thoroughly enjoyed it. He's very quick. He was obviously smarter than I am, and quicker. I'm a little more reflective, I think probably, or was at the time. On the other hand, he really got things done.
Lage
Was he open, if you had a different point of view?
Constance
He certainly would listen to it. You didn't always change his mind. I don't think he ever agreed with me that the college should not be divided up. I never agreed with him that it should. And I'm sure he had his reasons; I was sure I had mine. He respected them.
I don't recall any--I mean, I'm sure we certainly gave ground to each other; he was clearly the boss, but on the other hand, I wasn't timid in telling him what I thought. So, I think that most of the decisions we made--good or bad--were probably joint decisions.
Lage
He didn't need "yes-men" around him, it seems.
Constance
No. This, of course, is always the danger with any administrator, he gets too many "yes-men." I don't think that, at that point, he had too many "yes-men." When he was President, I'm not so sure he didn't. The presidential atmosphere can be pretty much diluted so that nobody says "NO" anymore. I remember, at least on one occasion when he was President, I spoke to him very frankly, and he pretty clearly didn't like it. I think he was probably out of the habit of
Problems of Undergraduate Teaching
LageWhat about interest in teaching? It seems Kerr had some concern about improving teaching at the undergraduate level. Was that something you discussed with him?
Constance
Well, it's always a problem. Obviously, if you have the big undergraduate load, you're deeply into problems of undergraduate teaching. The principal problems were the ones I indicated, I think, in talking about weak departments: a very swollen enrollment in lower division courses, which almost by definition could not be adequately staffed by really well-qualified faculty. Thus, if you had fifty sections of Italian, let's say, and supposing any instructor taught two of them four or five days a week, where are you going to get your faculty? You obviously had to comb the streets to get a faculty. If you had really distinguished scholars working in Italian literature or whatever, they would not be very happy to spend their time teaching three or four sections of students who were taking Italian because they thought it was the easiest way to meet the foreign language requirement.
So it was basically the problem of the inflated enrollment at the lowest levels, and inadequate faculty to handle it, or, to some extent, a lack of faculty who, shall we say, had a real gift for that kind of teaching. This was particularly a problem in the elementary foreign languages. It was a problem also in English and speech, and it was a problem in mathematics. Mathematics was a little different. One of the problems there was that they had so many foreign graduate students that the students complained bitterly they couldn't understand their teaching assistants. And the teaching assistants were given pretty wide scope. And of course there again, with that inflation of enrollment and the recruiting of marginally qualified people, who had to be given essential autonomy, you could wind up with a rather unfortunate teaching situation. That's the only one I remember particularly, but it was cause for concern.
Lage
In math, I wouldn't think enrollment would be inflated because it wasn't rigorous.
Constance
No, it wasn't because it wasn't rigorous. It was because it was basic to physical science in general, to most of biological science, to engineering, and so on. So, it was just a man/woman-
But I don't recall other particular problems, although I'm sure there were a lot of them. With that many faculty and that many students, that many departments, you're bound to have every kind of a problem you can think of and a few others. But I don't remember any really generic ones that would fall under the head of problems of teaching.
There was always a problem about Subject A--whether the university should teach it, whether it should receive credit, who should teach it. Should there be control over the topics assigned because, every now and then, some imaginative instructor thought of a few topics that would send one of the regents on a one-way flight into the stratosphere.
Lage
There was one about the F.B.I. which was controversial when I came--I forget what it was.
Constance
I think they loved to do that because, you know, it could embarrass the administration. So, there were little problems like that, but they were the spice of the daily menu, so to speak.
Kerr's Interest in Interdepartmental Cooperation
ConstanceOne thing that Kerr was interested in, or one of the things that stemmed from, or perhaps repeated his concern about the possibility of dividing the college into areas-- He felt that in that way you could keep closer tab on the different areas. I think his criticism of me was that he didn't think I was sufficiently innovative, and he thought that, somehow, I ought to have plans for given areas. He soon discovered that I was not particularly innovative. My role was, "Damn well make the thing work," and not so much figuring out what ought to be done. I just didn't think I had that kind of knowledge or was very likely to develop it. I think I was rather more modest. I felt that the people in the areas probably had a much better idea than I did as to what they ought to be doing.
So we kicked around the idea of having area councils, which would consist, perhaps, of the chairmen of the departments in the humanities, and so on. He had already started the Social Science Council before I came aboard. They developed various things: an integrated social sciences course and the Institute of Social Sciences. It was an internal granting agency. There was also one that did various polls--the Survey Research Center.
We talked about trying to create councils in each of the disciplinary areas. Several started out, but physical science didn't seem to need one. The biological sciences took to it and kept at it for a number of years. They created an integrated beginning biology course, and eventually this developed into a teaching department of biology, to which staff was contributed from the different biological departments. That remained active for at least twenty years. There was at least at one time a foreign language council, one of the few in the humanities that ever really got off the ground.
Lage
And were these concerned with both research and teaching?
Constance
These were concerned with everything in those areas. I remember Kerr saying essentially, "Well, if you can't think of anything to do, why--" I said I thought the advice would come much better from the appropriate faculty than from me. And he agreed, "Okay, we'll let you run the thing, and we'll let these councils tell us what ought to be done." That worked out pretty well.
Oh, one of the things the foreign language council developed was a language laboratory. And various other things came out of these arrangements. Those were fairly good arrangements, I think.
I think in some ways Kerr was disappointed that I did not have a specific agenda, so to speak--and I didn't. I had great respect for the judgment of people in other fields, and I thought they probably knew infinitely better what they should be doing that I did, so I didn't try to tell them.
Lage
And yet, they each were tied to their own department. It sounds like he wanted to break away from too much departmentalization.
Constance
Yes, that's true. Everybody who wants to reform the place wants to weaken the departments. But if you weaken the departments, I think you weaken the institution because I don't believe these other arrangements can ever be quite held responsible. I mean, they can come up with great ideas, but groups, committees, and panels are not very good at day-to-day supervision.
##
Constance
I believe in our structure. The department is the basic unit and, while it can be too rigid, you can also weaken the whole institution by weakening the department, because I think that's usually where responsibility comes to rest. Most of the proposals to do things by councils, committees, or whatever--with perhaps the exception of some of the graduate groups, let's say--usually go along fine for a few years, and then go down the tube. I think there are endless examples of this--great, bright ideas that start out as little special colleges, and so on.
There was one undergraduate college--the name of which I do not now recall--which started out with great gusto and four, I think, interested faculty members. In five years, there was only one interested faculty member left, and he was trying to get people appointed from outside the university just to teach in this course because all the others had lost interest in it. I think that's usually what happens. The department really doesn't have that luxury--it's held responsible. I think this is something to bear in mind when departments are kicked around or remodeled.
Lage
We haven't talked about outside institutes and research stations and things that you were responsible for.
Constance
I wasn't really responsible for many of these in Letters and Science. Sproul liked to have them report to him, and Kerr didn't like to have multiple reporting; he liked to have everything channeled. He wanted all institutes and so on attached to something. Sproul was very prone to give a distinguished scholar his own thing, especially if another university was competing for him at the moment. That's probably one reason that Lawrence did so well here, because Sproul essentially gave him a blank check.
As I said, Kerr insisted that everything be nailed down somewhere. I remember one rather odd circumstance of this. He looked at the Mount Hamilton astronomical observatory and saw that it was hanging out there all by itself. Somehow, it had been redirected to report to Berkeley. This was a little humiliating to the astronomers because they were one of the first parts of the university and they really thought of themselves as a separate campus. Kerr didn't like the idea of their coming in independently to report to him, so he had Mount Hamilton report to the dean of Letters and Science, who was I. The head of the astronomical observatory was a very nice chap with whom I was on good terms, but he obviously was very much humiliated to have to report to me. I certainly sympathized with him. Eventually that problem was solved when Lick Observatory was made a part of the Santa Cruz campus. How they handle it there, I don't know; but, at all events, he didn't have to report to the dean of Letters and Science at Berkeley.
I can't remember now which things were my concern when I was dean or which when I was vice-chancellor; it's kind of hard to remember when some of these things occurred.
Lage
Now, you had programs like physical education in L & S. Was that a letter or a science?
Constance
Physical education was a department. It was more nearly a science because they were fairly heavy on physiology and kinetics. It was not a major chosen by athletes, interestingly enough.
Lage
It wasn't a recreational program?
Constance
They developed a recreational program, but even that was somewhat serious. Not that you'd expect physical education to have the greatest standards in the world, but theirs were not on the bottom by any means. I also had the military departments.
ROTC Controversy: Kerr's Intervention
LageYes. I ran across a couple of instances where you had to review some controversies in ROTC.
Constance
Ah, yes.
Lage
Do you remember some of those?
Constance
I remember one. Let's see if I can get it straight. I had almost forgotten about it.
Lage
I have the name here, I think.
Constance
I've forgotten the chap's name.
Lage
Creighton. Is that the one you're thinking of? He wore his uniform to picket?
Constance
I'm sure that's the one. I've forgotten his name. It was an instance of a--I don't now remember what they were picketing about. It could have been most anything. At any rate, it is true that one student did wear his ROTC uniform to picket against, I suppose, ROTC being on campus or some cause of this sort. And apparently, he was a very good student. His immediate instructor had reported an A for him. The chairman of the department, who was a colonel, changed it to an "F" because of "action unbecoming an ROTC student."
This matter came to Kerr--I don't remember how. I think, probably through the dean of men's office. Kerr told the dean of men not to touch it and to leave it for me to handle. And Kerr told me how to handle it, and how I was to handle it was to call in the chairman, who was Colonel [John] Malloy, and, in essence, dress him down and tell him to change the grade back. [laughs]
Well, Colonel Malloy was a very amiable Irishman who had considerable experience around the world, and who, it would be fair to say, probably had never been accused of left-leaning. It really was ridiculous on the face of it. I was very much a civilian. My nearest brush with military experience was that I came close to being drafted as a private in World War II, and here I had the job of telling off--or disciplining--a full colonel.
Lage
Now, would he have been a faculty member too?
Constance
They were faculty members during the time that they were assigned to the University. So he was a professor and a colonel. I remember telling him almost word for word what Kerr told me to tell him. His face flushed and he closed his eyes and said, "Yes sir, yes sir, yes sir." I felt like a fool, but I did it, and he took it.
Lage
From the reading I did on this, that wasn't the way it came out. It came out the other way--unless it was a different case.
Constance
It was the same case. It went 'round and 'round, all through the University.
Lage
And went to the Academic Senate?
Constance
It went to the Academic Senate, and I can't remember what the Academic Senate did with it.
Lage
They supported the ROTC.
Constance
Well, the point is that only a department can give a grade, and nobody in the University has the authority to change it, period. I had no authority to change a grade. The only thing I could do was to tell the department that it was decided that the grade was unfair, that the student had been treated unfairly, that they should reexamine it. My recollection is that the department stuck to their guns. This chap, who had an almost perfect record, had this F-grade on it.
Bill Fretter told me a few years ago that he ran into this fellow, who mentioned this and asked if there were any way that it could be expunged from his record. Bill looked into it and said he couldn't think of any. The chap said, "Oh, well. So much for youthful enthusiasm," or indiscretion or something of the sort. It was quite a celebrated case. Some of the faculty felt very strongly about it. I didn't think the action was appropriate; the chairman essentially overrode the person who was doing the grading. I don't think that that was proper. I don't remember all the details of it now, but it went 'round and 'round. The only thing I remember particularly is my having to dress down the colonel, whom I liked, personally.
Lage
And getting direct orders from Kerr on what to do, which I assume did not happen too often.
Constance
That was very rare. But he felt absolutely outraged--partly, of course, because Kerr is a good Quaker, as I mentioned earlier. I rather liked the military as people. They were very hospitable. They invited me to various drills. I didn't go to all of them, but I tried to go to some. My wife went to some with me, and we used to say it was a pleasure to see students being told what to do and, by God, doing it, which was so unusual around Berkeley. You never could, you know, really order anybody to do anything and expect them to carry it out, but here it was done. [laughter] But that was before there was so much feeling against ROTC, of course, which expanded later. And it still bubbles up.
That's the only case I remember particularly. There were a few times when, I think, some of Kerr's staff members wanted to intervene in the college. I certainly discouraged it, and I think he must have. I certainly must have gotten support from him that I didn't even know about in dealing with University Extension and various other things that I thought were detrimental to the college. He must have had a lot of complaints about my severity, and lack of sympathy with athletics, and so on.
Lage
He must have had to handle a lot of the athletic end of it.
Constance
He must have, yes.
Lage
But did that ever come back to you?
Constance
I don't think so. I think it stopped there. No, he certainly gave every evidence that he had confidence in me, and I had confidence in what I was doing, so I did it.
Lage
What about relations with the faculty as a group, the faculty of the College of Letters and Science?
Constance
There's a Faculty of the College of Letters and Science, which is not terribly active. The dean has an executive committee, which is quite active. All proposed legislation goes--
Lage
Does the executive committee consist of his assistant deans, or is it something else?
Constance
No, that's faculty-elected. You see, the faculty of the college elects its own committee on committees and that appoints all other college faculty committees. So there is an executive committee, and all proposed changes in legislation and so on have to go through the executive committee. Then there's an annual meeting, which is usually not very well attended, where Letters and Science faculty can come, ask questions, bait the dean, or whatever the case may be. But, I think when things are going well, it's not very active. That's generally true of faculty things, as you know. If they don't have enough people to have a quorum at an Academic Senate meeting, things must be going very well indeed--or else they are absolutely disastrous.
Lage
Well, they met in connection with the report, I would guess.
Constance
They met a number of times. There was a whole series of meetings when the report was being developed. I've forgotten now, but there may have been a mail ballot as well--I don't recall. But, every section of the thing was discussed in one or more meetings. In that sense, they were active, yes. But after the thing was actually adopted, I don't recall very much feverish meeting or debate or whatever the case may be.
I know I gave a kind of annual report as to what had transpired, what was in the works, the number of exceptions to rules of graduation and so on, which I tried to cut back to zero. But there wasn't much--if you want to call it--intervention or real action. I imagine that if some faculty members thought something wasn't being done right, or they felt something else should be done, they came to tell me about it.
Lage
Not through that formal process?
Constance
No, not by and large, I think. At least, I don't recall anything that was really legislated which I had not invited or didn't find acceptable anyway.
Lage
It sounds very pleasant.
Constance
I think probably time dims any unpleasantnesses.
Letters and Science: A College or a Collection of Departments?
LageLast time you said that the college was pretty much defined negatively. Did you ever make an attempt to define it positively?
Constance
Well, that was my major attempt, and I tried to carry the recommendations out in action. The engineers had the strong feeling. "We're engineers, we're all engineers you know." Foresters were all foresters and so on. But Letters and Science was pretty much everything else. That's what I meant.
Lage
Things that just didn't fit anyplace else?
Constance
Well--
Lage
Did you see it as comparable to a liberal arts college, like Pomona College for example?
Constance
Well, I never had the experience of a small private college. That's probably something missing in my education. For instance, my respect for departmental organization is probably contrary to that mystique, to some extent. About the only thing we had that resembled that, I think, was the general curriculum major, and it turned out to be an abysmal mess. So that example didn't particularly encourage me in that direction.
A lot of it is simply the function of size. As I said, various attempts to create little colleges often started out with a big brouhaha and then dwindled out in a few years. I didn't think that was the kind of thing we could do best. It seemed to me that our problem was not to imitate Pomona but to--It's what I used to refer to as "the Swarthmore Complex". Kerr had some of it, and he used to like to bring up Reed College, in Portland, Oregon, as an example of what we ought to be doing. I said, "Look Clark, if all the Berkeley faculty members who have
Lage
Now, that's an interesting comment in itself--if you're really not just being funny about that--that the Berkeley faculty would send their kids someplace totally opposite from this environment. So they must have thought something was lacking in this environment.
Constance
I suppose that's true. There's no question you can see that rigid departmentalism can be antithetical to various things. On the other hand, I never could see how you could really do these things well. It always seemed to me that they became sort of general curriculum. Well, Riverside started out with the idea of--what was it? Western culture, I think. A series of courses was mandated. It seems to me it was a total of four courses which students had to complete by the time of graduation, which would essentially encompass western culture. Well, students went for two years and then transferred someplace else so they wouldn't have to take it, or they wouldn't have to complete it. Santa Cruz. I suspect, has done a better job of that sort of thing. It seems to me if you take Berkeley and try to chop it up into little pieces, it just doesn't work very well.
Lage
It is an organism of its own, perhaps.
Constance
That's right. But on the other hand, I've never had that small college experience, you see. So, it may well be that I missed something.
Lage
You didn't send your son to Reed, did you?
Constance
No, I sent him to Riverside. That didn't work very well, either.
Lage
Did he finish there?
Constance
Riverside? Yes.
Lage
He took the whole western civilization course?
Constance
I think it had been changed by then. I think they dropped it because so many students weren't taking it.
Working with Glenn Seaborg as Chancellor
LageCould you compare Glenn Seaborg, the next chancellor [1959-1962], with Kerr?
Constance
Well, Glenn, as you know, succeeded Kerr when Kerr became President. And I think I told you that when he became Chancellor, it was suggested that I become vice-chancellor with him. I begged off on the grounds that the first thing he would have to do was get a new dean of L & S. I thought that in 1959 I was four years into it and felt I knew pretty well what I was doing, and I didn't think it would be any favor to him. Besides, I didn't think that the vice-chancellorship had really settled down into a very significant role. I thought that the role of the dean of Letters and Science was a lot more specific and essential, and that the other remained to be worked out, to some extent.
So I worked with Glenn essentially the same way I had worked with Clark. We met weekly. As I said, I ran into him recently, and he mentioned that he had found this file of all the notes I kept on our meetings. He said, "You wrote down everything that we did!"
Lage
I wish he had turned it over to me.
Constance
I think he's being interviewed.
Lage
Maybe, but on his science--not on the university history.
Constance
I don't know. But at any rate, he had run across it.
I think that there wasn't any great difference, excepting that I had had a lot more experience by then in the campus government than he had. Probably I was more of a source of information to him than I had been to Kerr, who had been there longer than I had. It was a very harmonious relationship, so far as I was concerned. The interesting thing is that I really don't remember very much. I have to stop to see when Glenn did become chancellor.
Lage
There wasn't a big break in the points of view?
Constance
That's right.
Lage
Had Seaborg had an administrative role on the campus prior to that?
Constance
I can't remember what his relationship was to what's now the Lawrence Radiation Laboratory. He certainly had been active there. I believe, however, they had it set up--and I think that setup has changed at various times--I think that he chaired the chemistry part of it. Now, what the title was--associate director--maybe? Because he and Ed McMillan, who was the director, shared the Nobel Prize for the discovery of plutonium. I suspect that it was that kind of relationship. I think he probably came directly from the radiation laboratory.
One of the reasons that he was selected, I think it's fair to say, was that there was probably considerable regental support for having Ernest Lawrence succeed Kerr. Ernest Lawrence was pretty far to the right on the political spectrum, had been fairly active on the Regents' side during the oath controversy, and would have been unacceptable to a fairly large segment of the faculty. I can't really prove this, but my bones tell me that this is right. Kerr thought that Seaborg, as a Nobel laureate and a distinguished scientist, was also considerably more liberal and would be a better choice.
Lage
And would be acceptable to the Regents?
Constance
That's right--acceptable both ways. He wasn't identified with support of the loyalty oath as Lawrence was.
Lage
So the oath was still figuring in--?
Constance
The oath still figured in the choice because there were still some pretty deep divisions in the faculty.
A Multiplicity of Committees
ConstanceI find it difficult to remember particular things in that era. I was looking over some of the things I had written down. I seem to have been doing a lot of traveling. I was serving on national committees of one sort or another for--the National Science Foundation, the National Research Council. All these fantastic committees come marching along--
Lage
You could do a treatise on committees.
Constance
Yes. I've forgotten what a lot of them were, as a matter of fact.
Lage
It seems to be part of a professor's life--serving on committees.
Constance
That's right, and particularly, I suppose, if one is in administration and perhaps in a field--I don't know if I can really define that. Well, I was just looking at the kind of things I was doing-- You have this, too, don't you? [indicating a chronological record of service. See appendix.]
Lage
Yes.
Constance
Well, I was in the Representative Assembly, I was Chairman of the Hitchcock professorship committee--
Lage
Now were these part of your responsibility as L & S dean or were these just extra things that you did?
Constance
No, these were extra things. I was on the AIBS [American Institute of Biological Sciences] advisory committee to the AEC [Atomic Energy Commission] on education and training. We visited all the national laboratories. I chaired a committee to advise the National Science Foundation on the status of the Missouri Botanical Garden. I was a member of the National Science Foundation Divisional Committee for Biological and Medical Sciences, so on and so on.
Lage
I like the Committee to Prevent Duplication in Official Publications.
Constance
Isn't that wonderful? I think I must have been very shortlived--I don't remember. [looking at record of service] Committee on Interdepartmental Faculty Seminars--what that was, I haven't the remotest idea. I do remember being on the advisory committee of the School of Nursing in San Francisco. National Science Foundation ad hoc Panel on Biological Education.
I chaired an AIBS and NSF committee on communications media in biology. This was when they first started talking about computerizing library facilities. It was away ahead of its time. I have learned, much to my surprise, that that was a fairly historical committee.
Lage
Because it was a first?
Constance
Yes, because it was early. I was asked to chair it because I knew absolutely nothing about the subject. I got a call from Washington asking if I would be willing to chair it, and I ducked. They said, "We need an impartial chairman because there are a number of people involved in various librarian-abstracting services and so on, particularly where their concern is biological abstracts." They called me a week later and said, "We're having the first meeting at the Claremont Hotel. Now will you chair it?" So I said okay.
Lage
So how would you handle a situation like that if you weren't that familiar with the field?
Constance
A committee is a committee, Ann. You know, if you've chaired one, as Reagan would say, you could chair any of them--to some extent. Well--
Lage
It must be an art, though, chairing a committee in that way.
Constance
It's experience, primarily. If you have a lot of people with vested interests, all struggling for the floor, you don't have to do much except try to direct traffic and try to see that things go in a constructive direction. Besides, this was publication, and I had published and served on editorial committees at the University and outside. I've never been an official editor, but I've been an unofficial editor a good many times, so it wasn't all foreign to me. But it was interesting.
Seaborg's Treatment of the Humanities
ConstanceI don't think of anything that pops out of the Seaborg administration, particularly. I remember our discussions about some super appointments. I think that Chancellor Seaborg was rather more prone to major appointments than I was. I still come back to the idea that a good junior appointment is better than one very major one. I remember there was one proposal for the appointment of someone, a Nobel laureate, who was just about at the end of his career. The departmental statement said something to the effect that, whereas most of the students and most of faculty wouldn't be able to understand what he was talking about, for some of the superior ones he would be a very fine influence. And I said I couldn't go along with this. I would much rather have two bright assistant professors. I don't think Glenn was convinced, but the man died before he could be appointed, so I won.
Lage
[laughing] Well, you win in all different ways.
##
Lage
Was there any feeling that Seaborg was more removed from the campus, having been sort of on the hill and very much into physical sciences? Did he understand problems of humanities and language?
Constance
He certainly understood science much better than Kerr did. Some other areas, I think, he had less feeling for. But he tried very hard to be fair and even-handed. I remember one incident when one of the professors in English was offered a Sterling professorship at Yale. The chairman of English came in feeling there wasn't much of any chance that he could do anything about it because the salary was quite high. I can't remember whether he went with me to the Chancellor or not. It seems to me that he did, and then it seems to me that perhaps he didn't.
But at all events, I discussed it with Glenn--I think just the two of us--and Glenn's reaction, which I think shows where he was coming from, was, "Well, if he were a professor of chemistry, I think we'd try to match this one, wouldn't we?" I said, "I sure as hell think we would." He said, "Well, I don't see why we should do any less for someone in the humanities." We didn't quite match it. We came close--close enough that the man stayed. And I remember that the chairman of English was absolutely overwhelmed when I told him. But he was sure that with scientists, they would do this in a moment, but with anybody else, not so much. I said, "You might like to know that if we did match this, it would be the highest salary on the campus, I believe, excepting for some people who had an administrative position as well."
Glenn tried very hard to be responsive. But it's true that some of the areas were less familiar to him, which is not surprising. Nobody knows it all. Of course, Kerr felt most at home in the social sciences, and I always thought he was rather over-awed by science, and I always thought he didn't appreciate the humanities as much as perhaps he should. He felt, I suppose, that scholarship in the humanities tended to be rather barren. Social sciences, you could imagine at least, were dedicated to the betterment of mankind. Kerr, I suppose, in the best sense is a humanitarian in that way. But he might think of humanistic scholarship as being somewhat cloistered and arid, whereas to some degree that appealed to me.
Lage
Now you come out of a scientific background.
Constance
I'm a different kind of scientist, you see. I'm in what the present scientists call a "merely descriptive" science, which is a put-down.
Lage
[laughing] Is it closer to the humanities, do you think?
Constance
Yes, I do think it is because it involves history, and it involves what people did and how knowledge has developed over time. You have to consider who did it, under what ircumstances, and what it meant, and so on. How much it's the field of
Lage
You had to deal with all these humanists.
Constance
That's right. I've always felt my best support was from the humanities, as a matter of fact.
Lage
Okay, there's just one other thing that maybe we could talk about before we wind up--
Constance
Yes, go ahead.
Relations with the Regents and Other UC Campuses
LageDid you have any contact with the Regents during your deanship?
Constance
Not much. I'm trying to remember--I never had to go, that I can recall, and speak for the college. The Regents weren't interested in listening to the college, so far as I know. The Chancellor essentially handled it. I'm sure I did attend some Regents' meetings--I can't remember why. When the student affairs came up in the sixties, then, of course, I had to go in case they wanted to flog somebody. But I don't recall--I think I did go a few times when I was chairman of the budget committee. We had a Northern Division Academic Council, of which I was a member as chairman of the budget committee. We attended one or more Regents' meetings, or had meetings with one or more regents--both, I think. But I don't recall that I had any direct connection.
Lage
For the most part, what went on went through channels?
Constance
The Regents don't normally--or haven't normally--gone below the Chancellor's level. At a Regents' meeting, a chancellor is the lowest thing you'll see. [laughter] In fact, I used to find the Regents' meetings a little embarrassing because all the chancellors sat on the front row like so many schoolboys waiting to be scolded, or to get up and brag, one or the other, alternately.
Lage
[laughing] We'll get into this more in our next session, I hope.
What about relations with other L & S colleges within the UC system--is that something that happened?
Constance
Yes. When I first took on the job, I went down to UCLA and talked to Paul Dodd, who was dean of Letters and Science there and who was one of the handful of faculty members that ostensibly really ran the campus. He was very gracious, very helpful, and we discussed problems--it was some time in the fall of my first year--and he told me what he had done about them and gave me considerable ammunition.
Lage
Did their system work similarly to ours?
Constance
Yes. There were some differences. They had a College of Arts and something, which covered a multitude of sins. That's where all their weakest activities were; they had ROTC, and physical ed, and something like decorative art there. It was kind of a grab bag. I don't think their standards were as good as ours, but when I told Paul what we were going to do about certain things, he would say, "Well, we've been doing that for years." And so I came back to Berkeley, and said, "UCLA's been doing this for years, so why don't we go ahead and do it?" I found out later that nobody at UCLA, at least, knew they had been doing it. But at any rate they were now doing it at Berkeley on the strength of the belief that they had been doing it at UCLA, and something needed to be done anyway.
I recall a little incident that might illustrate others' opinion of my way of acting as dean. At some party, I heard Jim Hart, whose voice is very distinctive and sounds a little like the late President Sproul's, talking to somebody behind me. I don't remember what the conversation was about, but at any rate I heard Jim say in his very loud voice, "Well, you know, I do what Lincoln Constance does." I turned around and tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Jim, I'd sure like to hear the first part of that sentence." He blushed and said, "What I said was that I do what Lincoln Constance does. If something needs to be done and I can't find anything that says I actually can't do it, I go ahead and do it," which I think is probably exactly what I did. I thought it was a perfectly fair characterization.
Well, at all events, Dodd was very nice to me. He later left UCLA and became president of San Francisco State. He's still around. He comes to emeriti faculty affairs here occasionally.7
We had a group of deans of Letters and Science from Riverside, Davis, Santa Barbara, Berkeley, and Los Angeles; that's all the colleges of Letters and Science there were at that time.
Lage
You made no attempt to standardize or make--?
Constance
It worked in that direction. This, of course, was always a bone of contention, as I stated earlier, in relations with outside institutions. These outside institutions wanted to establish a relationship with one campus and then extrapolate it to the others. But our organizations were sufficiently different that this, to me, never made sense. I was always opposed to the idea of the central administration dictating how we should handle things. I thought we could handle them considerably better on our own.
But that was a state of what, I suppose, you'd call creative tension. It's never settled any more than it is in the federal government--whether you should have strong federal, weak state, strong state, weak federal, or whatever. For some things certainly autonomy is much to be desired; in others, perhaps, considerable standardization is desirable. But the standards ought to be clearly intelligible; I think that's the most important thing. There's no doubt that other institutions were left in some confusion because there were so many different university agencies they could address, and they could probably get rather different answers from them simply by complexities of size.
So that [the meeting of UC deans of Letters and Science] was a very useful thing. I think, so far as I recall, it continued as long as I was dean. I don't know whether it goes on any longer or not.
Lage
But the feelings were amiable enough?
Constance
Oh, very amiable, yes.
XVI Background to the Free Speech Movement
[Interview 8: April 3, 1986]##
Chancellor Kerr's Use of Advisory Councils
LageWe're going to move into the period of your vice-chancellorship today. As a little background, I wanted to get some comments that you had told me off the tape about how Kerr used his advisory committees--the Academic Advisory Council and the Advisory Administrative Council. Could you comment on that?
Constance
Yes, briefly. The Chancellor's Advisory Administrative Council, which consisted, predominantly, of deans--particularly professional schools--was mandated by the regents, I think, when Kerr was appointed because they had had complaints from certain of the deans that the academic types were frustrating their endeavors to build major schools of business adminstration, architecture, engineering, whatever the case might be. And Kerr used that committee, primarily, to diffuse information because his predecessor, President Sproul, tended to deal with people very individually. If some dean screamed loudly enough about something, why, Sproul might make an individual concession for him, which was not necessarily extended to anybody else. In other words, it was a one-to-one negotiation kind of relationship.
Kerr, on the other hand, felt everything ought to be essentially equal in equal situations. This also produced some problems because the title of dean sometimes went to a school with a single department, very few faculty.
Lage
Like forestry.
Constance
Well, that would be a possibility. I was thinking of something like social welfare, perhaps, or public health, where there might be no undergraduate teaching, and often wasn't. So the problems were different, the situations were different, the
There were different classes of schools or colleges that required different treatment. I know when I became dean of Letters and Science, a number of the deans apparently had objected to the fact that in appointment and promotion matters, the dean of Letters and Science was authorized to see the comments and recommendations of the budget committee, whereas the other deans were simply told about them after they had made their recommendations. As dean of Letters and Science, I said I could see some logic to this, but I thought the situation was completely different because I had fifty-odd departments where some of them had one. I had had four years experience with the budget committee, and I felt I could do a much better job if I saw and utilized the budget committee comments. The budget committee was not happy about seeing that authority dispensed to other deans because, whereas the role of the dean of Letters and Science was pretty much an adjudicating role among a series of departments, in the case of the very small schools, the recommender and the adjudicator were the same individual. Kerr finally agreed that the situation was different, and he allowed me to do what I wanted to do; not only that, but I think I was the only dean who met with him on a weekly basis because so many of the campus problems involved the College of Letters and Science, and only peripherally some of the others. Well, so much for the Advisory Administrative Council.
Lage
So that was more of just an information channel?
Constance
It was primarily an information channel--and we discussed problems, cross-campus concerns and so on. In one way or another, I was a member of it, first as chairman of the budget committee--I think that's right--and then as dean of Letters and Science. I'm never quite sure about my timing on these things. Yes, Kerr was inaugurated as chancellor in 1952, so that meant that I was involved as budget committee chairman for a year, anyway; and then I came back to it when I became dean.
At the same time, Kerr was very anxious to have faculty advice. So he set up on his own the Academic Advisory Council in 1954. This represented the chairmen of the principal Academic Senate committees and I think the dean of the Graduate Division, and I'm sure that I as dean of Letters and Science was on it. Oh, I might say before I forget it that the Advisory
Lage
Just directly to the Regents?
Constance
That's right. So Kerr used that device to bring that organization into the campus, which I think was a very positive one. But the Academic Advisory Council was his way of exchanging information, advice, and so on with the committees of the Academic Senate, primarily. I don't think there's much question that in Kerr's thinking it was the more important the two. My recollection is that for some time, they both met every week. Then I have a feeling, though I'm not sure that I'm right, that the Advisory Administrative Council tended to meet less often because it certainly played a less significant role.
Lage
What kind of things would go on at the Academic Advisory Council?
Constance
I find it very hard to recall specifics.
Lage
This might be something that could be gotten from the minutes rather than from--
Constance
I'm sure it could be. I don't have any minutes, but I would say there was no end to the things we discussed. We discussed everything involving teaching, research, what have you, that affected the campus, and most everything did.
So it was simply that the different committee chairmen could bring the things that their groups were discussing. The Committee on Educational Policy very often was concerned particularly with problems of instruction of one sort or another; budget committee, problems with appointment, salary, departmental balance of one sort or another, questions of whether certain institutes or special bodies of one sort or another should be created.
Lage
Again, we're probably taxing your memory, but I wondered if Kerr had any particular things that he was interested in that he may have tried to foster?
Constance
Well, Kerr was always anxious to think about the campus in fairly broad terms. One of the things that he was particularly interested in was developing a master plan for the campus, and the Academic Advisory Council was drawn very heavily into that. In fact, I guess, he had essentially produced a master plan.
Lage
A physical plan?
Constance
Not so much the physical, but the general question of what the campus thought its role should be and how it should develop. Again, I can't really put my fingers on very many specifics.
Lage
This is something that can be gotten out of the records.
Constance
Yes, I'm sure that's true.
At all events, I think both groups were very useful, but again, the administrative one primarily for information, the other primarily for analysis of problems and setting the stage for action of one sort or the other, although many of the same things were discussed at both places. But you'd get a rather different emphasis in the way the topic was handled in the two places.
Kerr's Support for Social Sciences
LageI've heard it said that under Kerr that the humanities and social sciences bloomed here--that there was more emphasis put on these two areas. Would that be something you'd agree with?
Constance
Kerr told me--and I can't tell you exactly when, but I think probably when I became dean--that we're only about half as good as we think we are. And then he said that in his view, Berkeley was strongest in the physical sciences, next strongest in the biological sciences, third in the social sciences, and last in humanities. His particular concern was the social sciences because he was a labor economist--that was his particular area of expertise and one in which he was extremely critical. He felt we had undue duplication and very little unification through the social sciences, which I suspect was probably correct.
I never felt that he was particularly sensitive to the humanities. It is sometimes said that he thought the humanities were what a tired social scientist did in the evening when he didn't have something better to do. That may not be quite fair. I don't think he had much sympathy with, or really comprehended the significance of, humanities research. If anything, he probably felt this was a contradiction in terms. I think it's fair to say that he was basically a reformer, and I suppose most social scientists are. After all, that's why they go into the study of society, its problems, its organization; it's the phase, I suppose, of arriving at solutions to problems.
He certainly was fair to the humanities, I think, but I don't think that he had any particular appreciation--as I say, I always thought he was overimpressed by the sciences. Others might have a different view, but I had the feeling that the humanists didn't really feel that Kerr was their man, though I don't think they felt any hostility. It may be that the humanists don't feel that any administrator is their man, so to speak. But, oddly enough, I think I got more support from the humanists, probably, than anybody else; why, I don't know really, except I think I had a little more sense of what they were trying to do. I didn't quite understand what they were trying to do, but at least I assumed that they knew what they were trying to do and tended to be sympathetic with it. And I didn't feel I knew so much about it that I should tell them how to do it.
Lage
That's why you got quite a bit of respect.
Constance
Well, the humanities had particular problems with very large classes at the first two year levels: English 1A-1B, the elementary language courses, and so on. There was a built-in contradiction because we wanted the best scholars we could get in these areas, and the best scholars, by and large, were not about to spend their time teaching English 1A-1B for the rest of their careers--and the same in the foreign languages. So the tendency was to leave a lot of the lower division teaching either to the lowest levels of the faculty or--particularly in the foreign languages--to go down to graduate students--associates, teaching assistants, whatever they were at the time.
Some of them were very good, but it produced criticism, and I suspect that Kerr, as any administrator would be, was sensitive to that kind of criticism. I mean, it's the kind of criticism you hear every day. You know, it's in the Sunday newspaper. I think you may have missed this, but there was an article in one of the sections telling what's wrong with the university--"the university is not doing its job." It's rather amusing; they quoted Charles Muscatine at one end, who is a professor of English, who was one of my assistant deans, by the way. I think it would be fair to say that Chuck's objection is that lower division teaching is not sufficiently elitist. On the other hand, they quoted the state assemblyman, John Vasconcellos from San Jose, and his criticism, of course, is that the university isn't sufficiently democratic. But they're both able to criticize the university because it now is a bit or a helpless monster, to some extent.
Lower Division Teaching and Advising:
A Source of Student Alienation?
Lage
We are kind of setting the background for FSM [the Free Speech Movement] now. As exiting dean of L & S, were you satisfied with the teaching and the advising? This came up in the FSM a great deal--the students' alienation, particularly in the humanities, I think, from not knowing faculty.
Constance
There's some of this always. I tried to strengthen foreign languages, particularly; also, mathematics had the same problem. I tried to get more faculty involved in lower division teaching. English was such an excellent department that I frankly didn't feel that I could tell them what they ought to be doing.
Lage
What about history? Were there complaints about that?
Constance
History had some of the same problem. I don't, somehow, feel as close to that. History certainly went in for big lectures. On the other hand, they went out of their way to get really out standingly good lecturers. I know one history professor who came here from Harvard, I think as an associate professor, possibly as an assistant professor; he actually went out and took a course in public speaking because the department felt and he felt that he really wasn't making the best presentation possible.
Now it's also true that English had very high standards of discourse.
Lage
They didn't have the huge lecture classes.
Constance
That's right; I don't think English did. History had some superb public speakers, if you like. There were certainly problems in history, but I don't think that was primarily a historian problem. It was more in the humanities. And of course some of it was fueled by a general student dislike of foreign language because they felt it was difficult, and students don't like things that are difficult. And of course, when I was dean of L & S, I was enforcing the language requirement with gusto.
There was something else that came up that I can't remember; you mentioned, you alluded to--I guess you were asking if I was satisfied with everything in L & S.
Lage
Right. There were the criticisms of advising, for instance.
Constance
Advising came in as part of the Letters and Science report. The report recommended that all faculty members in Letters and Science be advisors, and we treated that as gospel. We assigned
There were certainly some faculty who were not happy about this. There was one man who was pretty much on the verge of retirement. The story which I heard, told to me as a fact, at any rate, was that if a student went to Professor So-and-So, he'd see his administrative assistant. The administrative assistant would ask if he were a graduate student or undergraduate. If he said he were an undergraduate, the answer was that Professor So-and-So doesn't have time to talk to undergraduates. I never followed it up for two reasons. One, I was reasonably sure it was true. The second was that the man was on the verge of retirement anyway, and I couldn't see any great merit in raising a fuss about it.
As I said, the advisory system that I used was essentially dictated by the college. I know that there was seepage in it. Pretty soon, in some departments, it turned out that the administrative assistants were doing the advising, or the teaching assistants were doing it, or somebody else. But we stuck with that as well as we could during the time that I was in the College of Letters and Science. Later they went over to essentially professional advisors. And maybe it's unavoidable; I realized it might be. But I wanted to follow the directions of the Letter and Science committee, and I did not think it was unreasonable that faculty members should do this. Students complained that some were great advisers and some were terrible. Of course, the ones who were great were the ones who would let them do anything; the ones who were terrible were the ones who insisted on their meeting the college requirements and probably gave them good advice. So be it.
Lage
And then, of course, we talked about this, but one of the other complaints brought up was the rigidity of the requirements and the grading system, which actually may have been in reaction to the changes that L & S--
Constance
I don't think the grading system changed at all. And again, if you have standards, standards tend to be rigid. I don't see how you can avoid that. I think the real question is whether they're unreasonable or not. My view as dean was simply that the standards are the standards, and you conform to the standards unless there is some overriding reason why you should make an exception.
Lage
Did you ever feel that the upswelling of alienation, as it was described, had something to do with the tightening of L & S requirements?
Constance
I've always wondered if that may not have been the case. Nobody ever specifically said so, as far as I know. I mean, I can't account for all the things the students said. But I don't think I was ever personally attacked about it, and yet there was never any question about who was enforcing what. Some of them didn't like it; I threw a lot of them out. And most of them who went out were, I think, probably improved by the experience. In fact, I used to meet people in grocery stores and so on who would introduce themselves and said, "You know, you kicked me out of the College of L & S!" And I said, "I did?" And every now and then, somebody would say, "It's the best thing that ever happened to me." I think it probably was. [laughter]
But a lot of these things, Ann, are perennial. I mean, if you're interviewing somebody twenty years hence, you'll get exactly the same--the rigidity of standards, the arbitrariness of administration, and so on. All you have to do is read today's editorial in the Daily Californian. The administration is rigid. Why is it rigid? Because it won't give us what we want--right now! I'm afraid I've come to the sort of generalized view, which is one I really don't like to hold, that a lot of undergraduate response is essentially a temper tantrum. They were spoiled brats. They want what they want, and they want it right now; because they want it, they should have it. Everybody else lie down and play dead. [laughter] I'm not very sympathetic.
Lage
I can see that. [laughter] But we'll get into it more specifically.
Accepting the Vice-Chancellorship, 1962
LageLet's talk about your accepting the vice-chancellorship. You had said that you'd turned it down earlier; it wasn't well-defined. I wondered when this changed.
Constance
That's a good question. I hesitated when I noted your question [on the interview outline]. I suppose one reason I accepted it was that I had been told ever since Seaborg became chancellor in 1959 that when I got tired of being dean of Letters and Science, I was going to have to do a stretch as vice-chancellor. So after seven years as dean of Letters and Science, it seemed to be a reasonable change to make.
There had been at least two vice-chancellors in the meantime. Professor James Hart, the current director of The Bancroft Library, was vice-chancellor for two or three years, and then Edward Strong was vice-chancellor for several years. I'm sorry I don't remember the dates.
Lage
Wasn't there someone else that you immediately replaced? Was it Adrian Kragen?
Constance
Kragen was never academic vice-chancellor. They used the term vice-chancellor for business managers and various other kinds of people at one time or another, but I always think of the line of descent as being those who were really the academic vice-chancellors, although they did not always have that formal term.
Lage
So you more or less stepped into Strong's position?
Constance
That's right. And Strong came to it from the chairmanship of the Committee on Educational Policy, which is sort of out of the chancellor's academic advisory group, you see.
I don't remember any particular reason for accepting the position. When I first became dean of Letters and Science. I had asked Dr. Strong to stay on as associate dean. I had known him well and favorably for a number of years. When he [when he became chancellor in 1961] picked up on Seaborg's announcement that I was to do a term as vice-chancellor, this seemed to be the time to do it, if I were going to do it. I had no wish to remain in administration for any length of time, but this didn't seem the sort of thing that, you know, would drag on forever, and I guess I thought I could be of considerable help to him. It was pretty clear that anybody taking over something like the Berkeley campus probably needed help.
There was also some question about Strong's appointment as chancellor, primarily I think, because of his age. I don't know his age. My recollection is that he was over or about sixty. Somewhere I have a note that I wrote to Kerr, saying how pleased I was that Strong had been appointed. He wrote back and said, "I'm pleased that you're pleased."
But there's no question that the faculty. I think, were strongly behind his appointment--in favor of it.
Lage
Wouldn't Kerr have had a strong voice in who was chosen?
Constance
Kerr would have had a strong voice in who was chosen. Kerr would, whenever he could, defer to what he thought was majority, or reasoned, or whatever faculty opinion. He was very sensitive to faculty opinion, and I think would, in most instances, not have gone against what he thought was a widespread support for a given individual in a given position, unless, I suppose, he had really negative inside information, or whatever the case may be.
It's a little hard to say what the job involved, how well-defined it was, what major goals you brought to it [referring to interview outline]. I think it's fair to say that I never bring major goals to anything. My general reaction to the University always was that it was a very fine institution, and if you could keep it that way, or perhaps improve a little bit here and there when it got seedy around the edges, that's really about all one could hope for.
Lage
You're not a master planner?
Constance
I'm not a master planner, no. I'm a day-to-day pragmatist, I think. I think I know what's good, and I think I know what's bad. I think I know what represents quality and what represents shoddy, and I tend to prefer the former to the latter. [laughter] It's about as simple as that.
As academic vice-chancellor, I really was almost an alter ego to the chancellor in most of the things involving the campus because of my budget committee experience, my service on just about all the committees in the place, my seven years as dean of Letters and Science; I had, you know, been on this sort of thing. [indicates a document]
Lage
You're looking at the list of committee service that's going to go in the back of this interview. [see Appendix]
Constance
That's right. I actually handled academic personnel. I wrote all of the promotion and appointment recommendations. I worked directly with the budget committee, and to some extent, negotiated with them where there seemed to me to be disagreement either on my part or on the chancellor's part. But by and large, the chancellor followed my recommendations, and by and large, I followed the budget committee's.
There were a few that we disagreed on. I think I probably deferred to them more often than they deferred to me. I usually decided that if the faculty committee and the budget committee both were unanimously for someone, even though I had my doubts,
##
Year-Round Academic Program: A Divisive Issue
LageCan you recall any issues in this early period, before we get into FSM, where there were tensions with the faculty?
Constance
Well, you listed several here that I thought were very perceptive. The issue of year-round operation, I think, was a very divisive issue; perhaps I think so because I didn't like it. It was clearly an economic issue. It was a businessman's approach to the university. I can well believe that, to many businessmen, here is a very expensive plant just sitting vacant in the summer, and here are some relatively high-paid faculty just sitting here all summer or bouncing around the world not doing anything and getting paid; and that, obviously, is ridiculous on the face of it.
So there was a national fervor which developed about this time--about the idea of somehow making better utilization of the campus. It was an economic problem. This was the period when a number of these master plans were made. Kerr was very anxious to do this because before he became president, even, it was clear that President Sproul had really not planned ahead much. He was concerned with carrying through a long and very productive presidency, and it's not too surprising that he didn't particularly want to go full tilt into this. Some of the Regents clearly did want more action, and I suspect that some of Kerr's stimulation came from that. At all events, I think I may have said earlier that the different campuses were called to produce master plans.
Lage
I don't think we talked about the year-round operation on the tape.
Constance
Okay. Well, the year-round thing was really a kind of outgrowth of the kind of planning that led to the master plans. There was a question of how many campuses there should be; there was some suggestion that there should be what was by then, I think, an eleventh campus in the Bakersfield area, or something of that
I've always had the feeling that some of the business-minded people involved felt that you should run it all year-round and have the faculty teach year-round with the salary they were getting now, since they weren't doing anything the rest of the time, anyway.
Lage
This is just your suspicion, though?
Constance
This is my suspicion; this is my conjecture. I'm sure it would be bitterly denied, but I think from a businessman's standpoint, it might make some sense.
Lage
You had mentioned to me at one time that you were involved--
Constance
I was involved in it, to some extent. But I was going to say that nationally it was first tried out at Pittsburgh. I cannot now remember the name of the young industrial whiz who thought it up; what he thought up was the tri-semester. He was killed in an airplane crash, as it happened, and the University of Pittsburgh went broke and had to be taken over by the state because it didn't work.
Much was made or the fact that Stanford had four quarters; but the point is that the summer quarter was not anything like the other three, and it wasn't manned by the people who were there the other three, most of the time. I was firmly convinced from my knowledge of students that students would not come in the summer, period. And they didn't.
Lage
The faculty might not want to teach in the summer. Was that a consideration?
Constance
That was not as much of a problem. You could always get faculty, but you usually didn't get faculty here, or you got very junior faculty. But there are a lot of faculty in the other institutions who would be happy to come and teach; you have all of the state colleges and junior colleges in the state, for one thing, and a lot of people on the East Coast would be happy to spend a summer in California. And that's fine; I have no objection to that kind of summer school. That's great. But summer school, I think, is usually most successful when it is not a replica of your other units, because people who come to summer school usually don't want to work that hard. That's the reason there are such popular summer schools in Hawaii, Florida, and Arizona, you name it.
A lot of faculty didn't like it. Experienced faculty have usually invested a number of years in the particular courses they teach, and any scheme that changes the plan they already have is disruptive. Some of my biological colleagues were particularly upset about it because some of the best teachers had orchestrated a whole series of support mechanisms so they had animals that matured or behaved or whatever essentially on schedule; and they could run a whole semester with live animals or plants at every session, doing what they were supposed to do.
Any scheme of year-round operation involved a change of the units of the year, whatever you did.
Lage
Either the tri-semester plan or a fourth quarter.
Constance
That's right, because nobody ever suggested, so far as I know, six month semesters without any vacation at all. That was one possibility that certainly might have been explored.
I think this was somewhat divisive.
Lage
Were you responsible for dealing with the faculty on it?
Constance
Well, to some extent I was involved in the planning. I always felt that Kerr put me in charge of it because he knew I didn't like it, and perhaps he thought that someone who was not a great advocate would be better at pointing out the strengths and weaknesses than somebody who was enthusiastic for it. I don't know whether any faculty were enthusiastic for it or not.
Lage
Forestry was, I hear from Henry Vaux; they felt it allowed them to treat their subject matter better because, as he described it, forestry was a synthethic subject, and they needed to include a lot of different courses in their curriculum.
Constance
Forestry has essentially a summer program in at least a couple of their years, I believe.
Lage
But he preferred the quarter to the semester as a unit of class institution.
Constance
This was another disruptive-- Okay, mathematics did, too.
There were a number of different issues. One was whether it should be year-round or not. Then the second series of issues revolved about the best teaching time. Here you get into, to a large extent, the history of the people who had been exposed to different systems. It so happens I had my undergraduate education on a quarter system; I didn't know there was any other kind of system, really, until I came here.
Others had had their own education and their teaching on the semester system. It was very easy for people to divide on the issue; each one is the only possible way to do it. I would say in a rather general way that people in subjects requiring a long attention span preferred semesters. The humanities, the social sciences, where people wrote, and where the term paper was a common educational device; sciences, where they felt they wanted maximum laboratory, hands-on experience: these people, by and large I think--certainly there were exceptions--saw the semester as a more effective unit.
Students--and here again, you never can generalize students across the board, obviously, certainly not at the level of twenty-five to thirty thousand of them--many of the students liked very short contact in anything because if they felt they made a mistake, they wouldn't be stuck with it, and they could fly around like bees to flowers, taking a little of this, a little of that, a little of something else.
You mentioned the student objection to rigidity of requirements and so on. A lot of their objection came from that propensity, I think. They don't like to be held to anything that looks like a rigorous plan, whether it's the number of class meetings, the number of laboratories, or whatever it may be. It's much more fun to do a little of this and a little of that and a little of something else, and next semester if somebody says, "This is good," you could take that. If somebody says, "He's easy," then you flock to him and so on. So I think that, naturally, it would be a divisive issue.
On the one hand, you had the Regents thinking in financial terms, feeling that year-round operation would be a partial solution to a difficult economic problem. The solution had been recommended by people whose reasoning they understood, and I think that it's more than a suspicion that Kerr was told to put this into force and not to let the faculty try to squirm out of it.
Lage
Now you say that is more than a suspicion.
Constance
Yes. I once told Harry Wellman that I had a feeling that that's what happened. He said, "Well, you weren't far off." [laughter] I think that my suspicions are usually fairly good because I don't run around having wild ones, particularly, but I used to go to Regents' meetings, and I think I have some sense of how the minds of some of them would indeed work.
But I think the thing that was most disruptive was that Kerr, I think, didn't really level with the faculty and say, "This is a Regents' decision and we don't have any other choice." That might or might not have gone over. It's like
The faculty was put in the position of voting among different alternatives, none of which was for keeping it the way it was. And then the administration told the faculty, basically, "You voted for a quarter system." Well, faculty may have voted for a quarter system, as preterred to a trimester system, but they were never given the other choice.
Lage
Now, when you say "we," you're allying yourself with the faculty. Were you in the administration when this happened?
Constance
I was in the administration, and I thought it was very unfortunate and very unwise. I was opposed to it heartily. And one of the reasons I was opposed to it was that one of the few studies that had been made of this thing was made by a consulting firm--I couldn't tell you which one now--for the New York State system. One of their conclusions was that it would be very unwise to go into this unless they were assured of maximum enrollment year-round. My point was, "I don't think you're going to get maximum enrollment year-round; I don't think you ought to go into it." I wasn't listened to very seriously, and perhaps that's about where my influence on this, it any, ended. I was opposed to it; I thought it was a mistake.
Lage
When you talk about giving your opinion and advice, where would you have the opportunity to give your opinion?
Constance
Well, I know I told Kerr personally, but I couldn't tell you exactly what the opportunity was.
Were there formal meetings of discussion--?
Constance
Oh, yes, there were a lot of discussions about this. I don't remember when this first came up. I suppose it probably came up in Kerr's two councils, because I think that's probably the only place I would have had the opportunity to talk to him about it. At any rate, this was an issue that hung around for some years.
Lage
I see. It wasn't new.
Constance
It wasn't new. But, as I say, I think it did become divisive because the faculty were put in the position of saying, "You asked for it," when most of them didn't, and a lot of them abhorred it.
I had one colleague, who was one of the most conscientious and able teachers we ever had in the department, and he was yelling about this. I finally said, "You know, this really isn't a moral issue." The interesting thing is, to him it was. "It is a moral issue. I have built my course, and after years I have it where it ought to be. It's generally recognized as the best course of its kind in the country, and the administration is destroying it--destroying my teaching function--for some damn bureaucratic whatever!" That was one of the most extreme views, I think, but it was a faculty view, and there's something to be said for it, without any doubt.
On the other hand, the mathematicians felt they did better with their students if they didn't have them for too long at a time. They would rather see them here for a few hours and go do something else. So it was a sore point.
Sibling Rivalry between Berkeley and Other UC Campuses
You have an allusion here [on interview outline] to the loss of the Berkeley Academic Senate's veto power over the statewide Academic Senate. I suppose that probably is true. It's a little hard for me to put myself in that position because when I was involved with the Berkeley Academic Senate, it never seemed to me that we were really legislating for other campuses and telling them what to do. There's no question that Berkeley, as the oldest, the most elite--the one that thought, at least, it was the most elite--was strongly resented by some people on other campuses. Most of them would have given their shirts to be here, and I think most of them would have agreed, if you would have asked them. But there's no question that we had the experience, we had the prestige, and we did pretty much call the shots. No doubt about it.
LageApparently, there was some reorganization by Kerr. It's referred to in several books. I didn't get the exact details of what it was.
Constance
The reorganization that I think of in the senate--one I think I mentioned earlier--was the one that went into effect the third year I was on the budget committee.
Lage
That would've been before Kerr was President.
Constance
That's right. He had some statewide organizations built up. The Academic Senate created an Academic Council that was statewide. Earlier, we had it divided into north and south. Most things were proportionately represented. Since there were
There was, in general, quite a different relationship, I think, among regents north and south. A number of southern regents took a hands-on approach to UCLA. Deans would call up the regent when they wanted to do something, and so on. I suppose it probably happened in the north, but I don't think it happened very often.
Lage
That's interesting about their relationship with the Board of Regents.
Constance
Oh, yes, it was quite different. Well, the argument, of course, is that UCLA had farther to go; it was starting late and needed extra help. One of the regents would simply call up his deans and say, "What do you want?" And he'd fight for it, which was great for them.
With an institution the size of this, and with the geographical spread, you're bound to have some animosities develop. And Berkeley, of course, always suffered from the handicap that the statewide office was here. As one of my colleagues--I don't know which one--once remarked, by the nature of things the different campuses are going to be mad at the university's overall administration at least part of the time, and so they attributed that to Berkeley. "This is what Berkeley is doing to us," you know.
It's like the attitude of political dissidents around the country toward Washington, D.C.; the Middle West is America, and Washington, D.C., is that nest of whatever--the same kind of resentment.
It is true also that when Kerr became president, he tried very conscientiously to use Berkeley as a model, and to build up other places on that model. He set up committees from both UCLA and Berkeley to launch the campuses at Riverside and Santa Cruz, particularly. Irvine too, I guess--I'm not quite so sure about that; I think that came mostly out of UCLA. And I suppose that also could reverberate, to some extent. I know a number of faculty members here served on the committees for Santa Cruz; I never served on any of these, as a matter of fact.
Lage
The thing I ran across was that the Berkeley faculty felt alienated or angry with the administration--
Constance
I haven't quite gotten there yet. I'm trying to set the stage for that. That was certainly a feature.
Then Kerr also felt that each of the campuses would be strengthened if it had something that was unique and special to it. By this time, at Berkeley practically anything you could think of, we had one. And if you build up, let's say, at UCLA a center on the politics and the history of the Near East--which was an actual example--that meant that you had one here which had been established in good faith, which might or might not have built up a reputation, which had staff and program, and all of a sudden, here came a competitor starting from maybe nothing.
One of the problems was the Armenians--this is pre-Governor Deukmejian. I don't think he was involved in this; he might have been. But you know that there's a big Armenian colony in the Fresno area, many of whom have become quite prosperous. They tend to be very nationalistic, and they wanted Armenian taught on every campus. UCLA essentially cornered the Armenian market, but we had offered courses in Armenian before they had even started. Somewhere in my multifarious career, I had to go to UCLA and talk to the people down there--the Letters and Science people and a particular Near Eastern scholar they had, who was quite an able chap. They sprung the "chosen instrument" argument on me--that UCLA was the university's chosen instrument in this area, and Berkeley had no business being involved in it at all.
Lage
Did they want Berkeley to do away with its Armenian courses?
Constance
Whether they pushed it that far or not, I don't know. But they certainly didn't want to see any development; whether it was a reduction or simply not an expansion, I couldn't tell you. But they had their Armenians, and we had our Armenians. [laughter] Eventually, we stayed at a very rudimentary level. Whether we still teach it or not, I don't know--we may.
At all events, you had that kind of thing, and a number of different competitions developed. Also, quite a number of Berkeley faculty were recruited to go to these new institutions. For instance, Bob Nisbet, going to Riverside as dean of L & S, came from Berkeley. The first chancellor of Riverside came from UCLA. To some degree, the new campuses were staffed from Berkeley and UCLA. I think it's really family psychology--Berkeley being the oldest child with a monopoly on everything, seeing all of its toys being dealt out to siblings, was a little upset by it. So in that sense, there was some growing dissatisfaction with the central administration simply because it was felt, "Berkeley is what made this place; who are these people who have just come along? Berkeley's goodies are being parceled out among them." So there was some of this feeling; no doubt about it.
There was also the feeling, as you've indicated, through the presence of an Academic Council and various other statewide groups within the University, that Berkeley was reduced to just one among several after having been clearly dominant for a long time. Sproul never really took any other campus seriously. UCLA was there, but that was about it.
Lage
UCLA was quite resentful of that, I'm sure.
Constance
Oh, I'm sure they were. It isn't difficult to see some of the reasons for this; there are a lot of them.
And also, each of these campuses did its best to follow the Berkeley model, to get the best scholars it could, but ran into scholars who wanted libraries. Well, how many libraries are you going to have? How many real research libraries? I was never directly involved in this, but I think it probably was at least as not an issue as year-round operation. Eventually, it was pretty much decided that there would be a major library north and a major library south, and there would be improved means of people from other campuses getting to and using this material.
Then, of course, you ran into the phenomenon of some professor, who had had the entire series of I-don't-know-what in his office for the last twenty-five years and somebody got a call to send volumes twenty to thirty to a colleague on another campus who wanted to use it. You can imagine if this happened at Harvard and the authorities wanted to send it to Worster Polytechnic or something, all hell would break loose.
So there were a lot of little frictions that grew up, along with the diversification of the University. I never felt that any of them by themselves were all that strong; but on the other hand, I have a fine reputation of not anticipating how serious things can get. So that was one of the divisive issues. As I said, some of these things go back to the oath. And then there's always a certain amount of friction between the different elements in the university, be it faculty, students, administration. Faculty, by definition I think, do not tend to be great compromisers. Administrators tend to be, and the faculty doesn't respect them if they are, and it hates them if they aren't. [laughter] In other words, as an administrator you can't possibly win.
Lage
Now as an administrator, you saw yourself as a faculty member.
Constance
That's right.
Lage
And when you came in, your statement was that one of your goals was faculty self-government, or that was one of your guiding lights.
Constance
That's right. I've never changed.
Lage
Did other people see you differently, though? I mean, did you get a different kind of feedback from your colleagues once you went into the central administration?
Constance
I don't think that's anything I can answer, really. I don't think so. I think that the people who knew me, at any rate--but that's different.
Lage
But many, many people knew you.
Constance
Yes, and many didn't, of course, as the younger people came along. If they knew me at all, I don't know what they thought, really. I think that I was always very apparently a faculty member first. I'm sure that there must have been a contrary view, because there's no question that some people did not like the rigor with which I enforced college requirements. I said to you earlier, I thought I was generally respected, but I'm not sure I was much loved.
I think I always made it perfectly clear that I considered myself primarily a faculty member. I continued to teach. I always taught an undergraduate course during the ten years I was in administration. On the other hand, of course, I got much more of an inside view of the administration than most faculty did. I probably had a more tolerant view of the administration's problems than many faculty members; so I suppose I was hybrid. But there's no question that I've always thought of myself as a faculty member, and still do.
##
Faculty-Administration Conflict over Rehiring Eli Katz
LageThe Eli Katz case seemed to create some unhappiness with Chancellor Strong, I guess.
Constance
That's correct. As I recall it, Katz was appointed to the German department. My recollection is that he was at UCLA, as a non-tenured lecturer. During the McCarthy period, he had been called before one of the investigating committees and had taken the Fifth Amendment or whatever. The German department, in its wisdom, decided that this was none of the administration's
Lage
Was the controversy over a recommendation to hire him, or to promote him?
Constance
To appoint him here. You see, he had a non-tenured position at UCLA. The German department felt they needed someone who had his special expertise--Yiddish, and they thought he was the best candidate.
Lage
So he was hired.
Constance
So he was appointed. And I approved the appointment somewhere along the line as vice-chancellor. I remember I wasn't very enthusiastic about it; I thought it was a weak case, but it seemed to be a very specific need in a field in which there were not many alternatives.
Lage
Now, was the issue of his testimony to the congressional committee brought up at that time?
Constance
That wasn't even known here. The department did not alert the administration to it, which I thought was a gross omission on the part of the department. The University is always under pressure on these political things; while certainly an individual's political stance should not be a major part of his appointment, when it's as controversial as this, it's only fair to give the administration a break.
I mention this because there was one appointment made at about the same time of a man who was the son of a Communist Party official, and as a younger man had himself been a Communist organizer. He was also a very fine scientist. The department recommended his appointment and gave the administration the entire history of the thing. The President took it to the Regents, gave them the whole history, and they approved it.
Lage
He had no longer had this activity, I gather.
Constance
He still had the same sympathies, by and large; but he was not involved politically. We appointed him as a scientist, and he remained a scientist, although he never made any bones about his leftist preferences. To me, that's the way it should have been handled.
Well, this wasn't. This was given to the administration blind. We didn't catch it; somebody picked it up in the newspaper, and there was a spread about it. Chancellor Strong
I don't think I can really tell you exactly what transpired, but I'm sure that Strong assured him that he would have all the protection to which he was entitled and so on. Strong, at least, was left with the impression that the thing was essentially settled--that the individual had accepted Strong's advice, whatever it was. But a day or so later, he went to the newspapers saying that the Chancellor had attempted to coerce him or something of the sort. I don't remember the exact timing; my recollection is that it was just about the middle of the sixty-four thing.
The thing I remember about it is that when I was vice-chancellor the thing got blown up; some of the faculty picked it up, and it became a really festering ulcer. There wasn't anything you could do with it. Somewhere along the line, I know the Chancellor's administrative assistant took the whole file and put it on my desk, and said, "You handle it." It became a regular time bomb.
Lage
Do you recall what you had to do with it? I'm unclear about whether he was being considered for promotion or was it being considered that he be dismissed?
Constance
I'm not quite sure now, either.8 The case was taken up by the Committee on Privilege and Tenure, and it became a faculty issue. The thing I remember about it particularly is that the committee was asked to report to the Academic Senate. By this time the Academic Senate had become quite strongly anti-local administration. I was in the position of being expected to report on the matter for the Chancellor if the issue came up.
Lage
It might have been during that fall [of 1964].
Constance
I think it was; I'm sure it was, because--whether it was this issue or not, I don't remember, but--at one point I had to report to the Academic Senate for the Chancellor, and I was
But at all events, I was put in the position of being called on at any time to make a report on this thing. Again, I'm not sure what question it was I was supposed to answer, but it was a question that really had to be answered by the state-wide administration as well as the campus. I was warned that this issue was coming up. This was during the student thing because we were having these tremendous faculty senate meetings all over the place. This one was particularly jampacked.
I had decided what I was going to say if the issue came up. I wrote the President. I think the Chancellor was out of circulation at the time, probably in the hospital, and I was trying to keep things running. I wrote the President and told him that, unless I heard to the contrary, if I were called upon, this is what I planned to say. I gave him several day's warning on it. And while I was sitting there, waiting to see if I would be called on, I noticed the Chancellor's administrative assistant was crawling up the aisle on her knees. She handed me a paper--a note from the President--which essentially said, "I forbid you to make the statement," or something like that. That's the thing I remember about it particularly. Fortunately, I was not called on.
As a matter of fact, I got a call from the president of Simon Fraser University in Vancouver--the call was referred to me by the Chancellor's Office, I guess--saying that his faculty was interested in one of our faculty members and he'd like our permission to approach him. When I asked him who it was and he said it was Eli Katz, [laughter] I think I nearly had hysterics.
Lage
You gave him permission?
Constance
I told him the situation. I told him he could draw his own conclusions.
Lage
Can you recall whether you were going to recommend that he be dismissed or--
Constance
I was not. My view on it was that I didn't think it was a strong appointment--I said this many times. I didn't think it was a strong appointment, but I didn't think it was worth jeopardizing the welfare of the university.
An interesting thing, to look ahead a little bit, was that when [Roger] Heyns came (I was introduced to him by Kerr), I asked Kerr for authority to settle it so Heyns wouldn't have to start off his appointment that way. When Heyns left a few years later, my wife and I talked to him in a reception line, and this was the thing he had remembered about me. [laughter] Kerr wouldn't let me do it, and I could understand why because it pretty clearly had gotten to the Regents and become an issue on which the President was over the barrel. He assumed--he didn't tell me this, but I think I know how he felt--that Heyns, coming in as new Chancellor, could indeed handle the matter, whereas if I did it, who was I? Kerr basically would get blamed for it.
I can't remember exactly what the issue was. The situation was that he had indeed testified, and it was a time when the Regents were still looking for Communists.
Lage
I think we should hold off on it, but I seem to remember that he wouldn't be forthright with Chancellor Strong--he wouldn't answer his questions, either.
Constance
Apparently not, that's right. I suppose it probably was approving his appointment; I guess that must have been it. And Kerr just wouldn't allow that to happen. As I said, I didn't think that he was worth it. But it became a very strong issue--administrative arbitrariness and so on.
I don't think that Katz, himself, ever really was involved in any of the business. It was all about him. It was the people on the Committee on Academic Freedom or the committee on welfare, and so on. Some of the real activists seized on this in connection with the student unrest.
Chancellor Strong: Liberal, Contemplative, Principled
LageWhat had been Strong's position on the loyalty oath?
Constance
He was against it. It's rather interesting. Strong is and was a philosopher,--an almost storybook philosopher--a contemplative, soft-spoken, pipe-smoking, very agreeable, big man. Nothing small about him. He was quite liberal, and if there were anything in his political dossier, it probably was negative in the sense that he doubtless had written letters for or backed people who were under attack for being too liberal, whatever the case may be. The fact that he was cast as an arbitrary, hardline conservative was one of the great injustices and anomalies of history because he was anything but that. But he got caught in a vise.
To some extent, I suppose, Kerr was right that a man of Strong's age might perhaps find it more difficult to adapt to a new, explosive, hitherto unknown situation than someone younger. Then again, he might not have; I don't know that you can really be sure. But that's really about all one can say. He was and is a wonderful, fatherly, decent, honest, liberal person.
Lage
Do you happen to know if he had a particular concern with students? Did he enjoy teaching?
Constance
He did enjoy teaching. He did enjoy students. I think he probably felt fairly close to students, but he was basically a scholar who was a true humanist, a senior faculty member. He was chairman of the Committee on Educational Policy for some years. He obviously was trusted and respected by a great many members of the faculty.
Lage
What about administrative experience? One thing I read in the California Monthly was that he had, during the war, become the manager of the Lawrence Lab.
Constance
I had forgotten about that. He did function in the Lawrence Laboratory. I really don't know the details of this at all. During the war, most faculty members went and did something else as opportunity presented itself. As you know, I went to Washington and worked for the OSS, so I wasn't even here. I don't know. He did become associated with the Lawrences in some role, but I doubt if that affected his general slant on the world.
Lage
No, I was thinking more of it as an administrative experience.
Constance
Well, I'm sure it was that, but I don't know the details. I don't think, as I said, that it really affected his general attitude towards things.
Lage
I found an interview with Clark Kerr--just a very short one that our office did--in which he discusses FSM. Actually it was conducted on an airplane. Just by chance, one of our interviewers caught him on the airplane, and she had a tape recorder. This was in '69.
Constance
That's a good time to interview him.
Lage
She had a tape recorder and persuaded him to spend that hour, and it's quite interesting. His recollections were very fresh, of course.
He describes Strong as being rigid, I believe, "a rigid person."
Constance
Well, I don't think that he was, originally--well, it's hard to say. He became rigid in the circumstances, there's no doubt about that. I can't really get into that without going into the events themselves.
Lage
I just wondered if beforehand you had seen him in this way.
Constance
No, I didn't have that perception of him.
Lage
Was he someone who had very strong principles that he wouldn't deviate from?
Constance
He had strong principles, but I think he was a very, very reasonable person. I sat in on the first meeting he had with Savio, and I had to control myself because I wanted to reach across the table and smack Savio right in the face because he was insolent and brash, and frankly I thought he was off his rocker. He was just spouting. And Strong reacted to that; I did too. I'd have loved to punch him in the nose, and I think it might have been an historical favor if I had. Probably I'm not a great puncher, but--no, he was completely objectionable.
Again, it's like the stuff you read now. The administration hasn't done what we want, so now do it, or else.
Lage
We ought to put on the tape here that we're in the midst of an anti-apartheid demonstration while we're interviewing here on April 30, 1986.
Constance
That's right. But at any rate, Strong did react to that, and he took the view that you should not negotiate with the students until they conformed to the existing, prescribed rules of behavior--just as simple as that. And every time the administration and the students have a confrontation, you get some of the same things because the administration really doesn't have any other position it can take, as far as I can see.
Lage
Let me just back up before we get into the FSM. I wanted to ask you about one other thing that sort of fits along with what we've been talking about. I've heard that the faculty was already unhappy with Strong before FSM had started, that some had asked that he be replaced.
Constance
That I don't think I have anything really to contribute to that, excepting that some faculty members are going to be unhappy no matter what. He didn't make any--
Lage
Well, my notes say that he wasn't giving the leadership he should have been, and the Regents and Kerr were considering replacement. My notes don't say "the faculty," I see.
Constance
That could be, and there's no question that that was one of the reasons that Kerr was worried about Strong as a chief campus officer. I mean his attitude, as I think I indicated, was, "Well, you wanted him, you get him, but I have my reservations." So I don't know really what was getting to the Regents. Somebody's always going to the Regents, as you may guess, although it's strictly verboten. And I don't know what particular occasions there may have been, but I wouldn't say that Kerr was wrong. I think it could be that he was correct in what he says but I think it's also fair to say that he would be sympathetic to a complaint of this sort, because of his own initial reservations. So there you have it.
XVII Recalling the Tumult of 1964-1965
Split in the Chancellor's Office:
Strong, Sherriffs, and Malloy Handle the Students
Lage
Well, we've talked about Strong now; how about talking about some of the other vice-chancellors and how they worked as a team?
Constance
Originally when I went in, the other vice-chancellors were [O. W.] "Hump" Campbell, who was the business manager, Alex Sherriffs, who was--I don't remember what the title was--
Lage
Vice-chancellor for student affairs.
Constance
Yes, it was vice-chancellor. Kitty Malloy was the administrative assistant. She had been in Kerr's office, I guess, as a second member of the staff. Alan Searcy was a faculty assistant.
Kerr had started the practice of bringing in faculty members for a term, I think quite successfully, into the Chancellor's Office and using them in all sorts of specific roles.
Lage
That's the way Sherriffs was originally brought in, apparently by Kerr.
Constance
That's right. Originally, Kerr was very sympathetic with the undergraduates. You see, Sherriffs is a psychologist; he also was a member of the Berkeley school board at one time. He was very much interested in students--really quite devoted to them. And what he was concerned about, ironically, was that students were not sufficiently concerned about the outside world and all the things that were going on in it. He was an advocate of, shall we say, student activism. But again I would say within fairly well-prescribed boundaries.
Among other groups that we had on the campus, there was a sort of student council, which was really a kind of cabinet including deans of students and a number of student representatives, at which Sherriffs presided. It may have been called the student affairs committee. We basically tried to take up, consider, and if possible, solve problems that came to the students so that the Chancellor would be provided with student opinion--I'm sure this was started under Kerr. I probably didn't get into it until I became vice-chancellor, although it's possible I did before that.
But at all events, Sherriffs had a student clientele and a particular role with students in which he was very active. Certainly, some of the different campus concerns came up in that way. Katherine Towle, who died quite recently, by the way, was the dean of students, and I think most people would say a very able one. But to some extent, I suppose Sherriffs was a little like the president's foreign affairs advisor, who tends to overshadow the secretary of state, shall we say.
Well, what happened when the student thing broke, and I think I really have to put this in at this time, the Chancellor's Office really split down the middle, in a sense. The Chancellor and Sherriffs and Kitty Malloy were the nuclear unit who were spending essentially full-time on the student business. I was trying to carry on the general business, at least with the faculty. John Jordan from English was a faculty assistant at that time. I think he was the faculty assistant who was really assigned to me. Alan Searcy from Engineering was also a faculty assistant and became a vice-chancellor. At all events, I was basically excluded from the student thing.
Lage
By choice or by design or--? When you say "excluded," it sounds like you were left out against your will.
Constance
Sherriffs was handling it.
Lage
This was after it broke? I mean the initial decision apparently was Sherriffs's to take back the controversial sidewalk strip.
Constance
The initial decision was one of those completely inconsequential things which arose at a staff meeting. You've heard the story of this many times, I'm sure. The story is that there was a growing use of the sidewalk at Bancroft and Telegraph, and the City basically assumed it was the University's and the University assumed it was the City's. During the Republican convention in San Francisco, the representatives of one of the candidates used this strip for, I think, recruiting people to participate in the convention one way or another, whatever the case may be. I think the Oakland Tribune looked into the matter and discovered that part of this strip really was under the jurisdiction of the
Lage
By then they had been allowed to speak on campus, I believe.
Constance
It had been changed, okay. But I think about the one thing left was that they couldn't solicit funds on campus.
Lage
Right. And organize off-campus activities.
Constance
Yes, and particularly violent ones. At any rate, they were doing it. That was before they moved on campus, as far as I know. It just involved the area out there. I can't remember now whether Katherine Towle or Alex Sherriffs or somebody else said that this is something we probably had better do something about because we're going to be under attack in the press if we don't. So it was decided to simply recognize that this should be a non-political area. Now just what the timing was between the event and the movement of political action clear into the campus--this happened very shortly and precipitated the original trouble--I don't remember; but it was within a week or two.
Lage
But that decision, as you recall it, wasn't made with any sense that it was going to be a heated battle?
Constance
None whatever. It just looked like a little bit of tidy housekeeping that we had somehow neglected, and we had better attend to. I don't know that I commented on it; I certainly didn't have any particular feeling about it.
Lage
Let's get back, then, to your point that you were excluded. Did you want to take a role in it?
Constance
Not particularly. I never fancied myself as a particular nursemaid for students. [laughter] I respected their role, and I expected them to respect mine as faculty. I never felt as a faculty member that it was my job to turn over the teaching of the course to the students, or mine to get down and do their role by going through that. I had not been directly involved in any of the student things, excepting on this particular council of Alex's; I served on that as a courtesy to him, and if I could contribute something, okay. I suppose I did things from time to time when it seemed important, but it wasn't my kettle of fish. I felt my role was with regard, primarily, to the faculty. Somebody had to carry on these things, so basically I did.
##
Lage
So day-to-day decision-making--
Constance
I tried to carry on the general work of the office, and I tried to stay out of this sort of thing because I didn't think I was any good at it. From time to time it was suggested that it would be just great if I'd go and speak to a group of the students milling around. I knew perfectly well I wouldn't have been in the least bit effective, and it probably would be fair to say I was afraid to. I would probably make it worse! My reaction was not a friendly reaction; I felt they were misbehaving badly and doing damage to an institution I loved, and I had no sympathy with them. I don't yet.
Mario Savio and a New Student Clientele
LageYou mentioned that you did have one meeting with Savio--
Constance
Only in connection with Strong and Sherriffs. I don't remember how many of us were there, but--
Lage
Was this an early meeting?
Constance
Yes. This was, I suppose--well, again I have trouble remembering exactly how it developed.9 As you know, there was a table on campus where they were soliciting money, and the police moved in and removed it and the individual who was collecting money. They got him as far as a police car, and there was bad timing on the thing.
Lage
September 30, 1964.
Constance
It was surrounded by students and others. A sit-in started. I can't remember now quite the length of that, at what point they moved into Sproul Hall and sat in there--whether it was all the same day or during the same week or whatever.
Lage
And your office was in Sproul Hall, wasn't it?
Constance
No. I was in Dwinelle by then.
Lage
Oh, you were in Dwinelle?
Constance
The Chancellor's Office was in Dwinelle.
Lage
So you wouldn't have been involved directly in the sit-in.
Constance
I was not involved directly, no. But I was involved in the decision, which was a staff decision, to close in on this table because it clearly was in violation of the Regents' rules. We had planned to have it done early, but unfortunately, for one reason or another, they waited until the noon rush. If it had been done early, it probably would have worked. Then they probably would have come back later.
Lage
Yes, something else would have happened.
Constance
But getting back to this meeting with Savio, he came directly out of that confrontation. You see, he came from nowhere. The top of the police car, surrounded by the people, became the forum. I don't recall whether he was the first, but he was one of those who jumped on top of the car and harangued the audience, you know. "Throw our bodies against the--" whatever, "machinery of this foul system," and so on and so on, which was a lot of--whatever.
Lage
So he wasn't a student leader?
Constance
He was not. He never completed any work in the University, as a matter of fact; unless he did later, I don't know.
Lage
He didn't get a degree?
Constance
He finally got a degree from San Francisco State in physics. He was elected to Phi Beta Kappa. I thought of resigning, but I didn't. But he was suspended here before he completed a semester.
Lage
You didn't form a favorable impression of him at that meeting?
Constance
No, I never have. He was, I would say, insolent. It is true that Strong reacted, if you like, rigidly. But my feeling was not very different, I think.
Lage
When you say "reacted rigidly," you just mean he refused to bend, or he actually got into a personal exchange?
Constance
I don't remember how much of a personal exchange there was, but Strong was perfectly adamant that as soon as you respond to the rules, we'll talk. Until you do, as long as you're acting illegally, we can't discuss it. I don't know what other position he could have taken, whether the incident was designed to produce that effect or not, I don't know. It's very hard to know what was random and what was intentional.
I can't believe that Savio had any sinister scheme in mind, or whatever the case may be; I think he was an accident, actually. He had been down South in some of the voter registration things. He and a few others brought that kind of a tempo, kind of milieu and injected it into the campus in a situation which seemed to me not to call for it.
It's a little bit like the things you read about in South Africa now, and you see on television; you could understand why they're screaming and yelling there, but it doesn't quite tell you why they're screaming and yelling up here.
Lage
Did you deal with the faculty over the FSM issue, then? You were dealing with the other aspects of the University and relating to the faculty. Did you have a major role in interpreting the Chancellor's position on the student demonstrations to the faculty?
Constance
Not really. I had to represent the Chancellor at things when he couldn't do it himself. He and Sherriffs were having lots of meetings with groups. The campus leadership simply broke down, is what it amounts to, and there was a real hiatus. Strong was not well and got pretty much upset by this sort of thing. At one point he was in the hospital for a week, and I tried to keep things running. Occasionally I was asked to meet with some group that he couldn't meet with. But the only thing I really did was to try to keep things under some kind of control and running.
Lage
Keep the routine business going--the promotions and appointments?
Constance
That's right. I can't tell you now all the things that went through the office, but I was handling the things that needed to be handled. I tried to stay out of the student thing, again, as I said, I didn't think I would be at all effective.
I know Searcy very bravely went out and, at least at one time or another, met with groups of students. But I kept my head down and tried to keep the place running, is what it really amounted to. If I had felt that I could do anything, I probably
There was a group [SLATE] that--I can't now remember who they were, really. They sounded a little like the present Berkeley city council--the BCA [Berkeley Citizens Action]. They certainly had objectives which were rather different from those that had been usual in student government. But I don't think that any of us took them terribly seriously. How really politicized they were, I don't know. As you know, there are all sorts of background works on why the students behaved as they behaved, and so on, but I don't think we probably want to get into that at the moment. Besides, I'm not sure I can shed much light on it.
Lage
Well, people have commented pretty fully on it.
Constance
I know they have. I've said this before, and it's probably on the tape somewhere. I've always said two things about it: one is that all the things that have been said about it are probably true, but inadequate; the other one is that, improbable as it may seem on the face of it, if I had made all the decisions myself, it would have probably been a worse mess than it was. So I don't feel very qualified to comment on it.
I do think that a widening of the student clientele, which took place at about this period, brought a lot of students to the University who had no previous cultural background to speak of and who expected miracles. What they found was a lot of hard work and a lot of competition in which they were not, by and large, terribly successful. They then decided that the University was not what it ought to be because it was not fulfilling what their needs were. The University was irrelevant.
My version of it has always been that the University is not irrelevant, but a lot of the people who were here were here for the wrong reasons and were clearly irrelevant. So, there you go.
Representing the Chancellor's Office to the Faculty
LageDo you know of the book by a graduate student who did his sociological dissertation on FSM--Max Heirich?
Constance
No, I don't know about it.
Lage
It's quite a lengthy thing. He did his dissertation and then it came out as a book.10 In all these accounts of FSM, this is the only time you've been mentioned in the different books that I've read, and you were misidentified as dean of the Graduate Division. [laughter]
Constance
That's about as accurate as they usually were.
Lage
And he does have a lengthy memo that you wrote up, which I thought I'd give you a copy of. This was, I think, October 2, yes, where you met with a group of faculty--
Constance
Oh, yes.
Lage
--at Chancellor Strong's request. [reading] Kornhauser, Peterson, Smelser, Matza, Glazer, Seabury, Scalapino, and Haas, Radner and Rosovsky, Schorske and Tussman. And it was after the incident with the police car.
Constance
Yes, that's right.
Lage
Does that bring back any memories of some of the faculty relationships?
Constance
I remember that. That group wanted to see Strong and were unable to. I don't remember what was happening. But this was a group of, basically, social scientists, and Rosovsky, you probably realize, has just retired as the dean of Arts and Sciences at Harvard after a long service there.
I should say that the Chancellor's Office was in very close contact with the city police, and there were all sorts of rumors circulating of imminent uprisings. The group of the Chancellor, Sherriffs, and Malloy became highly emotional and felt threatened. I'm sure there were telephone calls and other things that suggested that there was going to be mob action on campus. One of the stories was that they were going to recruit people from west Berkeley, primarily blacks, bring them to the campus, and produce a bloody confrontation with the police and so on. There were a lot of rumors circulating.
Lage
These were rumors that maybe came from the police?
Constance
I don't know where they came from, but part of them did, yes.
Lage
Did you feel at the time that they were being misinformed?
Constance
I felt they were probably a little hyperbolic, shall we say, a little exaggerated, probably. But a lot of the behavior at the time was strictly mob behavior, and once you get a mob started, it's a fairly fearsome thing. Some of these rumors were not beyond possibility.
How many political groups were getting into this, I don't know. The Chancellor's Office was pretty much convinced that there was a strong Communist-radical block in this. And there's no question that certainly representatives of that group were around. For instance, when Sproul Hall was cleared, one of the local prominent communists was discovered to be one of the occupants. So I'm sure that they dipped into it; but of course, this question has been kicked around nationally as to how much was planned, how much was random, how much intercommunication there was between different campuses and different factions and so on. I'm sure I don't know. I have a feeling that these things tend to be spontaneous, but that usually you have a small hard core around somewhere.
You mentioned the Spartacus League? I mean, they're here; they're probably on every campus.
Lage
But I wouldn't guess that they were engineering the demonstrations.
Constance
No, I wouldn't either; but they're there to help pick it up if something happens.
Lage
Yes, and taking the more radical view, but I don't think they're running the show.
Constance
That's right. I don't either. One of the things that was characteristic of these things was that the President, particularly, would try to deal with a group of supposedly student representatives, and he'd think he had some sort of an agreement with them. Three days later the group would have been completely reorganized, and there were only three left that he had dealt with. The nine new ones were probably to the left of the nine that had been deposed. That went on all the time; it was a very, very fluid sort of thing.
I remember the group of faculty that came to me. They wanted to see the Chancellor to ask to go to the President, because they felt campus leadership had failed, that there was imminent disaster, and that this was the way to go. They talked to me about this, and I listened. I remember saying, "After all, you know, I'm representing the Chancellor, and you're asking to go over his head. It must be very apparent to all of you that I couldn't possibly give you that permission. But you're all big boys now, and I assume that you'll probably do
I don't know what this [the memo in the Heirich book] said that I said, but--[reading] "They asked me if I would call the President, and I said, `No. It would not be appropriate for me to do so.' Someone then asked if I thought they should call the President. I said I did not think it proper for me to give advice of this kind. Seabury, I think, said he felt that as faculty members they would feel they had not really discharged their duty unless they had made an attempt to get in touch with the President and asked if it would be possible to call from the Chancellor's Office. Rosovsky was finally designated to call. I can't remember now who told me that the telephone at the end of the conference room should be used. Rosovsky did call, and a few minutes later, came in to ask for a copy of the proposals, and either said or I inferred that they were read to President Kerr over the telephone and presumably record it at the other end. The discussion continued and some time later Rosovsky came back into the room. As I recall, his statment was something to the effect that he had never heard Dr. Kerr so depressed in the time he had known him. He appreciated their efforts, but that it was too late and that all of his work over the years was going down the drain. The group began to talk about what they should do, and I stated it was clear that I should not be present. I excused myself and left."
Lage
You saw yourself as the representative of the Chancellor?
Constance
Well, I clearly was at that point. Incidentally, I do not think that that was a wholly accurate copy of my memo.
Lage
But you didn't feel you could be involved as a faculty member in resolving it outside of channels.
Constance
I cetainly couldn't undercut him. That would not have seemed to me to be proper, and it doesn't yet. The faculty were spinning their wheels.
One of the tragic things that happened was that Strong felt that any time any faculty member became involved, he had turned against him. I kept telling Ed that, "Look, a lot of faculty members are getting involved in this. A lot of them are probably doing more bad than good, but I don't think there's any reason for thinking they're not being involved for what they feel are the very best reasons. They're trying to dampen the thing." I think that's true. I don't believe that any faculty member, to my knowledge, was really trying to stir this up. The
What happened was that, okay, so they worked out something with this particular group of students, and then wham! the whole thing had moved down the street. They were just left talking to themselves. A lot of social science faculty, particularly, really lost face over this, and quite a number of them left, I think, primarily for that reason because they had felt, indeed, that they could command the situation. But it was a very fluid situation--one that kept changing all the time. I don't know where he [Mr. Heirich] got hold of that memo, but I don't have it.
Lage
He apparently had access to all of the files. He did a good job actually--
Constance
Good. I never saw this account.
Lage
He did a lot of interviewing, and he did a lot of--
Constance
One of Neil Smelser's students, I suspect.
Lage
I think he might have been. Right at the beginning, he said he'd like to do this as his dissertation. He got permission, and then he went about it.
The time is such that I think we should finish up today, but we have more to go into.
Constance
There were so many, well, possible solutions and so much going and coming that I suppose I tended to shut it out of my mind, because I didn't want to think about it.
Lage
At that time, or since?
Constance
Well, since, primarily.
[Tape turned off temporarily]
Constance
I don't know whether I felt I was frozen out or whether I really didn't want to get in, because I didn't think I could contribute anything. I'm sure that Sherriffs felt we should all be out talking to the students and talking them out of their activities. I didn't feel that I would be the least bit successful in doing it, and I thought that I would be wise to stick to my role of trying to keep the essentially routine matters of the
##
The View from University Hall
LageWe're continuing with the discussion of the FSM movement, and your particular role in it. Last time we sort of got a general evaluation of your reaction to it, and the part that you played in the campus administration. Did the session bring back some memories, or some new thoughts you might have had since last time?
Constance
Well, there are a couple thoughts I had about it that might be worth getting into the picture. You asked about the relation of President Kerr to the Berkeley campus. It's a rather complicated one. I think it's fair to say, as I did, that Kerr really used the Berkeley campus primarily, and UCLA secondarily, to try to build up new campuses of high quality much more rapidly than you would expect to be able to create new institutions with a faculty of very high grade.
In doing that, I think he felt that, since he came from the Berkeley campus, what he did would be understood and well-received at home. I think he was shocked, upset, and, to some extent, antagonized when he found himself subject to criticism of the sort that you mention--that Berkeley was being dismembered for the glory of new institutions of dubious promise, et cetera.
Lage
Were these criticisms openly being passed around?
Constance
Well, certainly one heard them. I don't know how prevalent they were, but I'm sure that they got to Kerr.
I was thinking about--I think I may have put this in the story before--that before he became President, when we were having our chancellor-dean sessions, he asked to talk to me about his personal problem, personal problem being this pressure for him to accept the presidency. And I had, really upon being pressed, said that I thought that he might not find the
Of course, he did accept the presidency. Somewhat to my surprise--I think this may have been a Thursday--and on a Monday, when I was in my office in Sproul Hall, where at that time the Regents used to meet from time to time, he came to see me. He said he really came to apologize for not taking my advice. [laughs] I just laughed and said, "Well of course, Clark, you had to do what you had to do. The only thing I can say is, I think you'll be a wonderful president, and I certainly will do everything I can to help."
And he said, "I sort of assumed that." I think in a way that was his feeling about the Berkeley campus: he assumed that his friends on the Berkeley campus would understand, would sympathize, and would not fall prey to the kind of alienation which may not have been terribly important but was there, without much doubt.
The other thing you asked was, "After he moved off the campus, what was his relation to the campus?" Well, when he first became Chancellor, his big problem was to get President Sproul to withdraw his tentacles, if you like, or his grip, which he'd been establishing for twenty-seven years, and let Kerr run the campus. To some extent Kerr suffered the same withdrawal symptoms as Sproul did. There was a standard joke in the Chancellor's Office that every time a fire engine came onto the Berkeley campus they would get a call from the President's Office.
Lage
[laughs] This was even after Kerr came in.
Constance
This was after Kerr had become president and was on the seventh floor of University Hall, where he had a wonderful view, including the campus. And, as I say, it became a kind of joke.
I think that this did have several consequences. One was that I don't think Kerr really felt that anybody else could run the Berkeley campus. He had done a very fine job himself, and I don't know really what he thought about Seaborg's administration; I never heard. I don't imagine he was terribly unhappy about it, but he may not have been entirely enthusiastic either--I just don't know. But that did set the stage for his being very prone to take a critical view of anything that his successors did. That much I'm sure of.
Lage
Did he maintain contact with you, for instance?
Constance
No, not really.
Lage
He didn't come to you and skirt around Strong?
Constance
No, I wouldn't have gone along with it if he had. It just never would have occurred to me, I guess. I believe in a hierarchical relationship, and I think he did too, as far as that goes. It's only when things began not to go well that he was disturbed.
I've been particularly interested in thinking about the situation then because of the current situation, which has a number of things in common, and some differnet. At the height of the troubles in '64, the Chancellor was often tied up in important meetings having to do with student and other things, so quite often visitors were shunted to me, which was a kind of a bonus for me, so to speak. I don't remember the name of one particular visitor, but I think that he had been chancellor of the North Carolina university system.
As I say, he was shunted to me, and he arrived on one of the days everything was coming unstuck. The first thing he remarked was that, "Well, you know, your system is quite a bit like ours." I said, "Yes, I know it is, we copied yours." It was the only university, I think in the country, that had a central president and chancellors for individual campuses. Where they had the two offices elsewhere they were reversed: the chancellor would be the statewide officer, and the president the local one.
Well, we talked a little about the situation, and he said, "If your people are wise, the Regents will back the President and give the Chancellor complete authority, and then stand behind him." It seems to me that, so far, the difference between the situation then and now is almost precisely that. I don't think there's any question that Chancellor Heyman, for better or worse, is in charge of the situation, and I notice that President Gardner, as far as I am aware, has kept very quiet, and there has not been any regental pressure or public statements of which I'm aware.
Now, I'm not reading the daily newspaper regularly, so I may miss some of it. But from what I hear on the radio and television, and so on, it seems to me that what's happening this time is much better in that relationship.
A Siege Mentality in the Campus Administration
ConstanceI think it would be fair to say that the Chancellor's Office fell victim to a siege atmosphere, a kind of paranoia. It's a very difficult thing to prevent when you have crowds of people running around screaming their heads off and occasionally breaking windows and things of that sort. Because a mob is really, to me, a very frightening thing.
I think there have been some demonstrations of it here, that it can very quickly go to a violent phase, and as I mentioned before, there were a lot of rumors. A lot of these were coming apparently from police sources, so that we were certainly under the impression that we were likely to be attacked--more or less momentarily--by screaming hordes, or whatever. Since this was, as far as I know, the first experience of this kind in an American university, it was a very difficult thing to contend with.
I was reasonably sure that the level of apprehension was too high, but I couldn't prove it, and certainly I didn't have information sources from the police. I used to tell Chancellor Strong, when I did see him, of things that I thought were probably not the way to go--not that I felt I had any great inspiration. I finally said, "When you get tired of hearing me, just tell me, and I'll shut up." He said, "No, that's what I want to have you here for." So he was always willing to listen.
Lage
What kind of direction were you trying to take?
Constance
A more moderate direction. The thing I was particularly concerned about--I think I mentioned earlier--was that as the student "demonstrations" went on, more and more faculty felt that we weren't getting anywhere, that the administration wasn't really coping with the situation, and they felt they should take a hand. So more and more of them dabbled in it; they were sure they knew and could influence their students.
When this happened, the campus administration essentially drew up a black list of those faculty members who were quoted in the press or elsewhere; they had really become enemies. This was part of the build-up of the paranoia. Some of the more conservative members of the faculty came running to Strong to encourage him to hold out: "Don't give an inch; these are a bunch of pinko liberals, and so on, who are leading this thing." Strong was, I think, at times convinced that faculty members were actually out there leading the demonstrations. I think this was seldom, if ever, the case.
Lage
Some faculty were implying that others were feeding into the situation.
Constance
That's right. Well, some probably were, consciously or not, because, after all, the faculty represents a very broad spectrum--always has--of political interests, as I've said before. With a name like the Free Speech Movement--I can't imagine any faculty members being against free speech! It's like now trying to imagine any faculty members being for apartheid. Obviously it's a sympathetic issue; it's very easy to involve people just because it sounds good. I mean, this is generally what we're for.
But I think the contrast then and now is that the various faculty groups bypassed the Chancellor and went to the President.
You mentioned several groups, some of which I don't remember at all--The Committee of Two Hundred, was that the--
Lage
I think that came up in December. They seemed to be sympathetic with FSM.
Constance
I doubt if there were two hundred faculty members who were really sympathetic with FSM in its extreme manifestations.
Lage
Well, maybe they felt it should be handled more liberally.
Constance
That may well be, but there was a strong feeling that there was a vacuum at the center. I was impressed that Chancellor Heyman the other day issued, very quickly, just a one-page statement saying essentially what had happened, what the issues were, what he was doing, what he would have to do. I think, in recollection, that's something that we did not do. We were so caught off base by the thing that we really didn't know how to react; there was a kind of panic, and the most was made of it.
At all events, the thing that really encouraged this growth is that the President essentially blamed the Chancellor. Not only blamed him, but cancelled the Chancellor's move to clear the "in-sitters" from Sproul Hall at the last moment. So, of course, the students had a great victory. Then, having done that, the President, in the course of the normal regular meetings of the Regents, was given the backing of the Regents for acting as he had. And the press, interviewing some of the Regents, discovered, yes, they were backing the President all right, but when they asked about the Chancellor all they got was "no comment."
This was a perfectly obvious indication--invitation, if you like--to the protesting forces. The Chancellor was in such a position that shake the apple tree a little harder and you might get a nice apple in your lap. And of course that's what happened. But it seemed to me that all the things my North Carolina visitor said were necessary were exactly what were not done. I've indicated before that I think anybody sitting in the Chancellor's seat at that time was going to be a casualty.
Lage
You don't think it was necessarily Strong's weakness, but just--
Constance
Well, of course a situation like that plays to anybody's weakness. I'm sure that Dr. Kerr felt, as an experienced labor negotiator, that he probably could handle this. We'll never know, of course. That's Monday morning quarterbacking. You mentioned in here [the interview outline] the Greek Theatre experience. That was the first time the President was publicly brought into the thing. I think it's fair to say that he received a very bad shock to find the degree of animosity and potential violence that prevailed at the time.
That was one of the many things I was not really involved in. I had nothing to do with the Heyman Committee [mentioned on interview outline]. I knew about most of the committees and things that were set up one way or another, formal or informal. Quite often I was invited to things by the departmental chairman, particularly. Again, as I said, there was the feeling that there was a vacuum at the center, and they would invite me. Now, whether they first invited the Chancellor, and he declined, I really don't know.
They invited me, and I would sometimes go and answer questions, if asked, but I always left if any action was to be taken, because I thought it was not appropriate for me to be involved in it. They were very understanding about that. I don't know if I really contributed anything, but I was a symbolic figure, shall we say.
Lage
You must have had contact with these life-long colleagues and friends. Would they come to you, to try to influence the direction that the Chancellor should take?
Constance
Oh, to some extent. But at that particular point I had no influence. As I told you before, this whole thing was being handled by a small, beleaguered, nuclear group.
Lage
You mentioned the administrative assistant, as if she had a rather important role.
Constance
Yes, she did, there's no question about it.
Lage
That seems like an anomaly, sort of.
Constance
Well, she had a strong Irish temper. That helped.
Lage
[laughs] Malloy, was she?
Constance
Kitty Malloy.
Lage
What would have given her the kind of influence she must have had?
Constance
Well, administrative assistants have a lot of influence, if indeed they wish to take it. It was rather tragic in a way. She and Gloria Copeland, who was Kerr's administrative assistant, were very close friends. I think that they actually shared a summer place over in Marin County, if I remember correctly. There was a very severe rift, each of them adhered to her principle.
Of course Sherriffs really had started as a protege of Kerr's, so there was more than just a distancing, there was a feeling of fairly violent hostility. I remember Sherriffs saying, "It's not the Kerr that I used to know." I don't remember what brought that on particularly, but there certainly was the feeling that Kerr had betrayed the campus administration.
Lage
Had Kitty Malloy worked for Kerr also?
Constance
Yes, she had been in the Chancellor's Office. Both she and Copeland had. So they came out of the same group, but there was simply a very strong alienation. I can't tell you exactly how it got going, what kept it going, but Kerr didn't approve of the way things were being done after he left, and the campus people felt that they should be left to do it as well as they could.
In fairness, I don't think that Kerr often was as close to the situation as he probably thought he was. Like anybody in an administrative post, your sources of information tend to be limited, and you tend to rely more and more on the ones you're familiar with, and he may very well have been misinformed. But at all events, that was the situation.
Incident at the Greek Theatre, December 7
Just a word about this--well, it probably jumps ahead just a little bit. The Greek Theatre incident is one I remember very strongly. You indicated that Henry May was the chair of the
I think Scalapino was at the Greek Theatre representing that group, but Henry May had some leading role in it.
Constance
I'm sure he may have.
Lage
He presented it at the Academic Senate, I believe.
Constance
Could well be. All I remember is that it was Scalapino who asked me to be present at the Greek Theatre thing. It was a fine example of being a completely empty symbol, because my recollection is that the Chancellor was in the hospital, and I was covertly trying to run the campus. I remember when we got there, Kerr looked at me and said, "Are you here, Lincoln?" or something like that, and I said, "Yup." [laughs] I was there, as I said, as a completely empty symbol.
Lage
Was he implying that you shouldn't have been there?
Constance
I didn't take any implication, particularly. It was a faculty-arranged thing, and I had been invited by the faculty members. It seemed to me probably appropriate that I should attend.
Well, there was one incident connected with that that probably ought to be on the record, that isn't. A faculty member came to the Chancellor's Office just before the meeting was to start, just at the time we were getting ready to go, and said, "They've got a riot all planned, and it's going to break out in fighting in the Greek Theatre." I don't remember what clear details there were. Earl Bolton, one of the vice presidents had come up to attend the thing--
Lage
He was a vice-president of the university?
Constance
That's right. This was obviously a worrisome situation, because a large crowd, particularly a vociferous one, in the Greek Theatre, which is quite precipitous, could be a very serious problem. So he asked me what I thought--I think he made the proposal, I agreed to it.
They had campus police directing traffic on Gayley Road, and he said he thought it would be a wise precaution if, when they finished directing traffic, they would come up and stand outside the curtains around behind the stage, so they'd be there if anything happened. He asked me if I didn't think so, and I
As you probably know, Kerr made his talk. I think he was really shocked to find the air of hostility, which the rest of us had become pretty well used to by then. I couldn't tell you now what he said, but he was obviously striving for some kind of peaceful solution. There was quite a bit of argument. Students from the FSM--I keep saying "students," but I mean the people who were involved in the FSM, some of whom were students, many of the leaders of which were not--demanded that they share the podium, or that they make a counterstatement, or whatever.
Scalapino was very calmly and very pursuasively saying, "No, no, no, this is the faculty's turn, and you can have your turn somewhere else some other time." Eventually that's the way it went. But about as Kerr finished--I was sitting, so I saw our FSM hero get up--
Lage
[laughs] Mario Savio.
Constance
I saw Savio get up and start sort of crawling around the edge of the chairs. I thought, "I don't know what he's going to do," but what he did, of course, was to grab the microphone. As I've always said, if I'd known where you unplug the microphone I could have been a hero! But I felt that basically I was a guest of the faculty--it was their show; I really didn't know what to do. So probably the best thing for me to do was not to do anything.
Lage
You were on the podium also?
Constance
They had several of us on the stage. I think I probably sat between Kerr and Scalapino, or on one side of either one--I don't remember the details now. But at all events, when Savio all of a sudden made a jump for the microphone, the police grabbed him. They thought some kind of violent action was going to occur, and that of course set the whole thing off. Then it really did look like a riot. I was intrigued by the fact that the--the names keep escaping me--the communist official's daughter, you know--
Lage
Bettina Aptheker.
Constance
Bettina Aptheker was clearly the one most effective in calming the audience down, because it looked as if they would pour right down over the stands in the Greek Theatre, and somebody would have gotten killed, I think. At any rate, she calmed them.
I think I said before that the following week the President sent a call to have the Chancellor come down, and, in our view, probably be taken to the woodshed. I asked that Mr. Mauchlan and Dr. Searcy and I come too, because the Chancellor had been off the campus for a week and certainly wasn't in any position to talk about what had happened.
##
Constance
We were given some kind of assent--I'm not sure really by whom--and we did go down. I had the very definite impression that the President was not at all happy to see us. He didn't tell us to go away, but he did make some very strong statements about being betrayed by the faculty, and so on.
Lage
He felt betrayed by the faculty?
Constance
Oh, yes, he accused the faculty of betraying him, specifically the departmental chairmen. I said, "Well, Clark, I can understand your distress at the Greek Theatre episode, and I don't think there's any question that the departmental chairmen tried to do something that they were not able to bring off successfully. But I don't think you have any basis for stating that they were not doing their very best to try to resolve the situation peaceably. It certainly was not an attempt to undermine you." He clearly did not like it.
Lage
I thought that the faculty voted confidence in him at several times along the way.
Constance
They may have.
Lage
He submits that he didn't know police were present, and that was a violation of an agreement he had made.
Constance
He may not have. I don't know what agreements he had--neither did we, you see.
Lage
So that was just a confusion of--
Constance
I doubt if there was any such agreement. It's possible he may have said that, but at any rate it was Earl Bolton, who was his representative, who suggested it. And again, I supported the suggestion, and I'd do it today, because I think that it was
But at any rate, that's the particular part of that incident that I remember. Then, as to other things you have on the interview outline, the different committees [the Ad Hoc Committee on Student Suspension (Heyman Committee), the Study Committee on Campus Political Activity]: I didn't have direct contact with any of those committees, as far as I can recall. Individual faculty members did come to me to express their various views, mostly to deplore whatever was or was not happening. Strong was made the fall guy, without any question.
Resignation Offer to Protect Chancellor Strong
LageDid you get involved at all in his resignation, the circumstances leading to that?
Constance
Well, not really. The one thing I turned up--this has never been opened. [handling an envelope]
Lage
This is a piece of history in the making, an unopened letter.
Constance
Yes. [opens envelope with letter-opener] I wrote him a letter of resignation, and I said somebody's going to take the rap for this, and I think this is what you have vice-chancellors for. I mean, I don't remember what--
Lage
When was that?
Constance
Well, I'll have to--I haven't read it. [laughs] I just turned it up. I wrote it December 31, 1964.
"Dr. Edward Strong December 31, 1964
Dear Ed,
As soon as it can be arranged to suit your convenience, I should like to be relieved of my responsibilities as vice-chancellor in order to return full-time to teaching, research, and the direction of the University of California Herbarium, which has been receiving considerably less of my time this year than it deserves and needs.
For nearly ten years as departmental chairman, as college dean, and most recently as vice-chancellor, not to mention the preceding four years on the budget committee, I have devoted a very large proportion of my time to administrative
I shall, of course, always be willing to serve to the best of my ability in any capacity that seems indicated. You have my full confidence and warm best wishes in your difficult task.
And I accompanied it with this note:
"Dear Ed,
I'm sure I do not understand fully the significance of the various actions growing out of your recent conversations with the President and the Regents. However, one possible interpretation, reinforced at our recent conference with the President, is that there is a lack of confidence in your staff which places you at a disadvantage. Quite independently of these developments, I've suspected for some time that I've become more of a liability than an asset.
With this thought in mind, I think it might be to your advantage to have my resignation in hand for whatever use you wish to make of it at the appropriate time. Theoretically, I believe I am "committed" until February, 1966, and I shall honor that commitment if you so desire. However, I believe you should have the flexibility of terminating my service before that time, without any compunction, of course."
He didn't open it.
Lage
He knew what was in it, I take it.
Constance
"Personal--Dear Lincoln" was on the outside of the envelope.
"I thought you wished me to receive whatever is enclosed as possibly of help to us in our difficult situation. You should know that so long as you are willing to continue in service as vice-chancellor, I have been and would be grateful for your invaluable contributions, and insistent on their continuation. I am grateful, too, for your advice to Harry Wellman in response to his call to you." (I don't really remember that.)
"The Regents believe that I have promulgated the recommendations of the Committee on Academic Freedom as the rules fully in effect on January 4. The statement that I was preparing for publication in the Daily Californian on
So, there's a little vignette for you. He never read my letter, but he apparently gathered what was in it.
I don't remember--I know Harry Wellman and Don McLaughlin were a delegation from the President, or from the Regents, or a combination of the two, to persuade Strong to resign. Which I guess he did, did he not?
Lage
He did resign.
Constance
It was clearly a forced resignation, but I guess he actually did resign.
Lage
But apparently Meyerson was acting chancellor until March, and then the regents accepted Strong's resignation in March. I don't think that's too important--he was effectively out in January.
Constance
No, Meyerson stepped in right at the first of January, I think. Meyerson, as dean of the College of Environmental Design, reported to me as vice-chancellor, so I knew him quite well. In fact, when they were looking for a dean of Environmental Design, he had been my first choice, although I was not here at the time he was actually appointed. At any rate, I wasn't directly involved. I think probably I was on the committee and looking into it, and it seemed to me that he sounded very good, although Mrs. Wurster had a few doubts about him.
I mentioned that there seemed to be a vacuum at the center, and although I think that what I showed you indicates that I still had the Chancellor's confidence, whether I still had the President's or not is something I couldn't answer. I seem to have it now, but right at that time I don't think anybody in the Berkeley campus had very much. He felt, you know, that Berkeley was making his life miserable. It seems to be the role of the hyperactive Berkeley campus to make the University President's life unhappy. I don't imagine Dr. Gardner's very happy with Berkeley at the moment, if you come right down to it.
XVIII Mending the Campus: Chancellors Meyerson and Heyns
Changes under Meyerson
ConstanceI guess we probably read about Ed's resignation in the newspaper. I don't remember when this [indicating his letter of resignation] was returned to me. I don't remember what Dr. Wellman told me. We were all aware that something of the sort was going on; it was getting worse and worse. Clearly the campus was not getting any central support that we were aware of.
I had nothing to do with the selection of Meyerson, but it was, I think, a very good one, actually.
Lage
Had he been very involved, or was that one of his virtues, that he was removed?
Constance
No, he had not been directly involved--so far as I'm aware. There were so many people involved in so many ways, it's very hard to say anybody was not involved, because they may have had their own little faction somewhere. I don't recall any involvement on his part, but he was obviously a sophisticated person with considerable leadership propensity, and of course, I found myself in a difficult spot. There I was: I had been in charge of the campus for some part of the more painful aspects. The campus administration was tarred; I was certainly tarred along with it--not only tarred, I was tired, I think it's fair to say.
Alan Searcy, and--I think it was--Errol Mauchlan, and I were the three "outsiders" in the office, basically: Alan Searcy, who was faculty assistant to the Chancellor, Errol Mauchlan, who was budget officer, and myself.
Lage
Three outsiders under Strong?
Constance
That's right. I mean, we were the ones who were not being very involved in student affairs. Searcy, and, I think Errol, did meet with some students, or FSM leaders, at one time or another. Of course, we all did at one time or another, but certainly none of us played a very major role in that.
Every now and then, in the early stages at least, Sherriffs would say rather bitterly that he wished someone else were really taking a hand in this. On the other hand, we were certainly very carefully screened off from participation and just to be tossed to the FSM crowd was not a particularly pleasing prospect, especially if you were not in a position to know what was happening, or what you could say. So I didn't exactly dash to the barricades.
At all events, either Errol or Searcy called Meyerson when they heard that Strong had resigned and that Meyerson was going to assume office. Meyerson invited us to come to his home--he said he'd been very anxious to talk to somebody on the staff and didn't really know how to go about it. So--you know, I'd had very good relations with him--he was very cordial, and what he said, in essence, is, "Well, you three people have been running the campus, so you keep on running it, and I'll see if I can handle the student thing and damp it down." That's the way we operated.
For all intents and purposes, I don't think any of us really got involved further in the student thing. He brought in Neil Smelser from Sociology and John Searle from Philosophy. Searle could yell louder than the FSM leaders, and Smelser, who was a very persuasive and loquacious sociologist, tied them up in knots.
Lage
Was this on a one-to-one basis or a group meeting basis, or--
Constance
Well, this was mostly one-to-one, or small groups. It wasn't going out and confronting a mob. I don't remember how much mob sort of thing there was in the spring. It may have dwindled down after the change in leadership. I don't think there was ever the hostility in the spring that there had been in the fall. Everybody was pretty tired by then.
Lage
In the spring they had the "filthy speech movement."
Constance
That didn't amount to anything, that was a little "pff" on the end. It helped to discredit it. The glory days were pretty much over by then. I'm sure there were more incidents in the spring, I just forget.
At all events, things went reasonably well in the spring.
Lage
And what did Sherriffs do in the spring? He was still on the staff, wasn't he?
Constance
He was invisible, as far as I can recall. I don't remember that he played any role whatever. It's my feeling that he didn't play any significant role after about October or November. Certainly he did not appear conspicuously in the new Meyerson regime.
One of the first messages I got after Meyerson came in was one from Kerr, that I was to go and fire Kitty Malloy. Kitty had broken her leg, which didn't help things much. I went up and talked to her. She knew why I came. She invited me in, we had a drink, discussed the bad old days [laughs]. I told her, "You know, Kitty, you know why I'm here. "Oh, yes," she said. I suppose I had to present her a letter relieving her of her duties, or something--I don't remember just what.
But that was the stipulation the President made, apparently. I suppose, in a sense, it was inevitable and probably wise, because she was so embittered she couldn't possibly have managed to cooperate with the acting Chancellor, who was trying to restore relations with the University. How good those relations were, I don't know. I don't think they ever became terribly friendly.
Lage
Between the University and the campus.
Constance
Between Meyerson and Kerr.
Lage
Well, they did do a joint resigning--remember the public resignation that they--
Constance
I had forgotten all about that. What did they do?
Lage
This came after the "filthy speech movement." The "filthy speech movement" created a great deal of disgust, and Regent Carter phoned Kerr and insisted that he dismiss the students. Kerr and Meyerson, in response to this kind of interference, made a public resignation.
Constance
Isn't that funny, I'd forgotten that; I'd forgotten that completely.
Lage
And then their resignations were not accepted. Things might have been a little wilder than you remember in the spring.
Constance
I'm sure they were. I'm afraid I was numb by that time. My sister-in-law, who's a physician, remarked that I lost fifteen pounds that year, and she didn't think I'd make it through the year. There were times I didn't think I would either [laughs]. But, at all events, I was not involved in that.
Selection of Roger Heyns as Permanent Chancellor
The place I next came into the picture was late in the spring. Let's see, how did this go? Of course, I had an office over in Dwinelle Hall, then I was over here [in the Life Sciences Building] in real life part of the time when I was teaching. I got a call over here saying that Meyerson was trying to reach me, so I went over to Dwinelle. Meyerson had been told that he was not to be the President's candidate to be Chancellor, which made him quite upset.
I was sympathetic, because I thought he'd given a lot to the job. I knew nothing about whatever arrangement he had had with the President in the first place, whether the President had given him any encouragement to think that he might indeed stay there. But I remember him saying, "Lincoln, why don't we go start our own university?" About then the President called me, while I was in Meyerson's office--we had a central exchange. He asked me if I would take charge of the campus during the summer. It was pretty clear there wasn't anybody else to do it, if Meyerson wasn't going to. I was a little annoyed, because I thought Meyerson had been treated rather badly--I thought Strong had been treated badly, and I thought Meyerson likewise.
So I said I would do it under certain circumstances, and he said, "All right, what are they?" And I said, "Well, I'd like to do it, if I do it, with my title of vice-chancellor; I don't want any phony acting title. I'd like to commit myself to only a month at a time, because other opportunities might come along that I might want to take advantage of during the summer. And by the end of the summer I want to be completely out of the administration, permanently." He said, "You mean that?" I said, "I do." That was it.
Well, Meyerson and, I guess, others were probably brought out and interviewed. There was a chancellor's selection operation going on which I was not invited to attend. Kerr hosted some sort of a party, and I was not invited. I think probably the reason I wasn't is that the invitation came to the Chancellor's Office and Meyerson threw it in the wastebasket. [laughs], if I had to guess. But at all events I heard that we
So you didn't hear directly; you heard through the grapevine.
Constance
That's right, I heard through the grapevine. Finally, Kerr brought Heyns over and introduced me to him, or vice-versa, and I can't remember whether all the Chancellor's staff was there or not. It's quite possible. But I remember that is the time when I asked Kerr to let me handle this famous Katz case, so Heyns wouldn't be stuck with it. I said we all knew it was a nasty kind of thing, it was a ticking bomb, and if I could take care of that, then at least Heyns would have one fewer thing on his plate. Kerr didn't go along with that. But as I mentioned, Heyns always remembered it gratefully.
That was the first time I had met Heyns.
Lage
That was in the summer at some time?
Constance
I suppose.
Advice to Heyns
I can't remember whether it was at that point or whether it was some weeks later that I received an invitation from Kerr to have lunch with him and Heyns, since I was going out, to talk things over. Heyns already had been provided with the two vice-chancellors, Earl Cheit and Robert Connick. My recollection is that they were having a meeting that afternoon of the deans and chairmen, to introduce Heyns. Connick--at I don't know whose initiative, perhaps his own--asked if I would introduce Heyns, which I thought was nice, so I said, "Sure."
At all events, for this lunch Heyns was to come to my office in Dwinelle and we were to walk up to the Faculty Club, where we would meet Kerr and have lunch. I can't remember exactly how we started it, whether he started it or I did, but at any rate I said, "These are the things that the faculty think you ought to know before you assume office, and I've only got a few minutes to tell you, so listen carefully." [laughs] It could be he asked me, "What can you tell me that I ought to know that we can't discuss with the President?"
I said, "The first thing is: don't agree to put the Chancellor's Office in Sproul Hall," (where Kerr wanted it) "because you'd be a hostage to anything that comes up on the
I've forgotten the few other things of that sort.
LageSounds so interesting, I wish you could recall it!
Constance
I don't remember any of the others at the moment. I did tell him a little about the kind of faculty resources he had, that in our system could be very helpful to him--he ought to know about them, he ought to use them. I treated him in sort of an avuncular fashion, I think. I very much liked him and was favorably impressed. He was very able. I also think he was a bit of a hero to come here at that time.
Lage
He left a situation in which he was going to be promoted to president of a statewide university.
Constance
That was the understanding. The University of Michigan is not a statewide university, I believe. I don't think they have separate campuses. They have separate institutions in Michigan. His father, I believe, had been dean--although I'm not sure. He'd been a faculty member at any rate, and apparently Heyns was expected to ascend; it is anybody's guess why he didn't. That will come out in some oral history sometime, I think.
Lage
Actually, our office is doing an oral history with Heyns now.
Constance
I hope they are. It certainly was a courageous act [to accept the chancellorship at that time].
Lage
Did you have further contact with him after?
Constance
Not much. I was just going to go on to tell you about that meeting. The meeting was really grim.
Lage
The meeting with Kerr?
Constance
No, that was pleasant but guarded, shall we say. I think Kerr probably felt that he could place no trust in anybody in the Berkeley campus, including me. And I didn't feel terribly kindly toward him. Relations had been strained; there's no question about it, although I'm very fond of him, always have been, and still am. So be it.
But we did have the meeting to introduce Heyns to the deans and department chairman in the afternoon. As I said, it was very grim. Deans and chairmen were wondering what was going to happen next. I talked to Roger Heyns and said, "Do you mind if
That was it.
Lage
Was that the extent of the transition between the administrators?
Constance
As far as I was concerned. Oh, I suppose we tied up things in various ways, but I can't tell you now how.
Lage
You'd think there would be a tremendous body of knowledge that you'd have to impart to somebody coming from off campus. wouldn't you?
Constance
No, no. I suspect it was intended there should not be, but I don't know.
Berkeley in the Dog House
ConstanceThe Berkeley campus had failed. There were other indications of this. I attended Regents' meetings in the fall, anyway, and I was there for just one purpose, and that was in case any of the Regents wanted to blast the Berkeley campus, they would have somebody there to receive the chastisement. I knew all the Chancellors at that time, some of them quite well, and it was very interesting the way they used to distance themselves from me. I wasn't good company to be seen in. Actually, I don't think anybody ever asked me anything, except Kerr did, once. He asked me something I couldn't answer, so I didn't help much.
But clearly Berkeley was in the dog house, and we weren't allowed to forget it, shall we say. I was amused because sometime along the line Heyns said publicly a couple of times that he never could persuade me to work for him. As a matter of fact, he never asked me.
There's one little interesting thing in there: Alex Sherriffs showed up from somewhere, and remarked "Heyns is a psychologist; maybe I'll stick around and see if he could use a good psychologist." I never heard any more about it.
Nobody asked me to stay on, but I had clearly asked not to stay on, and I had no intention of doing so. I wouldn't have. It was hell. That year was unmitigated hell from my standpoint, not so much because I suffered personally. I didn't make any enemies, I think, or no permanent ones. I didn't approve of the
At any rate, that was the end of my administrative career.
##
Aftermath of FSM, Parallels to Anti-Apartheid Demonstrations
LageI have read references in articles, and elsewhere, about other campuses raiding the Berkeley campus during FSM for faculty members. Was the faculty leaving because of all the disturbance a problem?
Constance
No, I don't think so. Well, it's true that some faculty members left because they were disgusted with it. The usual problem, though, were the splits in attitude toward the Free Speech Movement on the part of different faculties.
One of the things that was very apparent in the earlier stages: once departmental chairmen tried to pick up the administrative ball, so to speak, they spoke for their staffs, and then they were undermined. In other words, the chairman of English, who was Mark Schorer at least part of the time, took a relatively strong position. I can't tell you now what the position was, but he submitted it to a vote, as the English department does with essentially everything. He was overruled by, I suppose, primarily younger people, who felt that this was too conservative a stance.
The history department was one classic example. It was split down the middle, and people on different sides weren't even speaking to each other. Several of them left. Several left Political Science. So particularly in the social sciences and in the humanities, several people just couldn't stand their colleagues any more. It was almost as bad as the oath in that respect, that old friendships were broken because people took a very different attitude toward this business. It was a very murky sort of thing.
I was interested in looking for parallels in yesterday's paper. I don't know if you happened to see the Daily Californian, but there was a list of the goals of the blockade of California Hall--they listed thirteen. Did you happen to see that?
Lage
Yes.
Constance
You get down here, through the apartheid things, to "there will be no increased course-load requirement; there will be no lowering of student wages; there will be no IBM product demonstrations at the Men's Faculty Club"--the Men's Faculty Club is a private organization; it has nothing to do with the administration and even less to do with the students; "that Heyman meet student and faculty representatives this week to discuss these demands."
Well, it's the old story; it's all over the lot. It was supposed to be all about apartheid. One of the items I like is "that Heyman take a public position in support of an ethnic studies graduation requirement and promise that the graduate rate of students of color be made comparable to admissions levels." That, I think, is a lovely one. All that means is that everybody passes, no matter what.
So again, the issues, to me, are extraordinarily unclear both then and now. It seems to me they are in most of these incidents.
The same thing was true of the Free Speech Movement; it went into the business of educational reform and so on. What was "educational reform"? [reading from one committee report of the time] "The committee recommended offering `Pass/Not Pass' option, non-graded courses, and using plus/minus grading, rather than straight A-B-C-D-F. Also urged the University to disregard first term grades when computing grade point averages. The committee recommended further experiments with grading and stated that the student view should be considered in shaping educational policy," etc., etc.
This had nothing to do with free speech, as far as I can see; it simply spilled over into all sorts of student irritations with the University, with society, and with anything else. As a result it was very difficult to find clear lines. You might think that it was important that the University relax its requirements against having political figures speaking on campus, and I think most people did. But that hasn't anything to do with educational reform.
As I look at it, as a former dean, these are all efforts to weaken scholastic rigor. The people who are strongly in favor, and are still quoted, are people who never demonstrated any rigor--I'm talking about faculty members. There was at least one who passed everybody, no matter what.
Lage
These are people who were in favor of the educational reform aspect?
Constance
That's right. One of them is a professor of education. My reaction is that professors who refuse to grade are simply not meeting their responsibilities. It's like being a policeman and saying, "I'll be a policeman, but I'm not going to arrest anybody." Well, you can't have--as I see it--quality education if you guarantee ahead of time that everybody's going to pass whether they do anything or not.
Lage
It's a very idealistic view of human nature, to think that you can take away the grading incentive and everybody will apply himself.
Constance
I think you're charitable. I think it's the old story of trying to get into a university because of its prestige, and then trying to convert it into a junior college where you don't have to work very hard. Somebody protested that the courses were so rigorous that they hardly had time to protest! My reaction to that is, isn't that too bad! Isn't it a shame! I think that one really ought to do a little census on what courses, if any, are being taken by people who are spending fulltime protesting. This is something else you see, that betrays my age.
Lage
Are there any other long-term effects that you might want to mention--you have talked about the faculty splits, and so on.
Constance
Yes. Well, there's no question that the college requirements which I had laboriously and fairly strictly put into operation were almost completely undermined. This happened all across the country. Academic standards went down the tube.
Lage
It happened in the elementary and secondary schools too.
Constance
Well, I think they'd always been that way. I mean, the college and university things were made to resemble them. I think the whole educational enterprise nationally was seriously compromised. Over the years since they have gradually been built back up, but this current objection about having a more than twelve-unit student course load is clearly one left over from that. In other words, college is a nice place, why spoil it by having to do anything serious? Everybody knows that it's the contacts you make, and so on. that really count.
There are many different opinions, of course, as to what effects the so-called Free Speech Movement had. I have a colleague who feels that it clearly relaxed the generally conservative character of the University, made better opportunities for minority groups, and so on, although my impression is that that was mostly something that came later, with the Third World business.
Lage
I think that too, in '69 and '70, around in there.
Constance
That's right, that's my impression, but as I say there are lots of different opinions. There are many who think that this was a great liberalization of the University. I don't think so. I always thought the University was pretty liberal to begin with, but undoubtedly it was perceived differently by different people with different experience, before, after, and here. I never felt any constraints on my liberties.
I personally have not seen anything I would think of as a positive long-range effect. There certainly are some who think that student-involved educational policy is a plus. I believe student opinion is valuable for some things, sometimes, but mostly not for what they want to exercise it for. What they would really like to do, of course, is determine faculty appointments, promotions, salaries, etc., and they'd like to determine how their courses are made and what's asked of them. My reaction to that is that it's like having the patient tell the physician what his treatment should be.
There's no question that selected student opinion can be very valuable, but it mostly wouldn't be obtained from a mass protest. These protests usually wind up being rather thoroughly stupid, in my estimation. So, since I don't believe that "liberalization" of the development of the educational process by "average student input" does much for it, I don't see much positive gain.
Lage
Did it encourage the faculty, though, to sort of think through a little bit more about their teaching and their relations with students?
Constance
That's always possible. Anything that tends to shake up the establishment makes some of the faculty, who would not otherwise have been, aware of the fact that they really do have some responsibility. But on the whole I think most faculty do; that's why we pick them. Being farther from the process of selection, it seems to me in more recent years we have tended to worry much less about any interest in teaching, as opposed to prowess in obtaining large research grants, prizes, and whatever--but I'm not sure if that's true.
I think most faculty go into university teaching because they enjoy teaching. Let's face it, most of them are missionaries in one way or another, and I'm sure I'm no exception. Where else can you get as large a captive audience, and have people hang on your words?
Lage
[laughs] And write them down.
Constance
That's right.
Lage
And sometimes even tape-record them.
Constance
Sometimes they even reread their notes--probably rarely. I don't think that by and large people join faculties in order to escape contact with students and their teaching responsibilities. But it is true that any uproar that comes along does probably jog that part of their repertoire, shall we say, so that they're rather more conscious of students than if they hadn't raised a rumpus. But, again, I would say it's a hard way to get there.
XIX In Pursuit of Parsley
[Interview 10: April 29, 1986] ##
Beginning of Serious Research on Umbelliferae in Association with Mildred Mathias
ConstanceThis may be a bit of a separate transection through my career, but last fall I was asked if I would talk to a group of graduate students who were interested in systematics. They call themselves the Taxonomy Lunch, and they try to get someone, either a student, or a faculty member, or a visitor, to speak to them. I put them off as long as possible, but finally got nailed for April 23rd. I was asked in the hall a couple of days before what my topic was, and just sort of offhand I said, "In Pursuit of Parsley."
It occurred to me afterwards that perhaps the title is misleading, because I think rather than my pursuing parsley, parsley has tended to pursue me. Parsley is an obvious common term for the particular plant family in which I am supposed to be a specialist. In other words, the Umbelliferae, sometimes called Apiaceae. When I was a graduate student, about the beginning of my third year, I asked Professor Jepson--I took a master's degree, and then thought, well, I might as well go on and try to get a Ph.D. since the Depression was still on. So I asked him what I could do a thesis on.
He suggested several things. One was the flora of Mt. Tamalpais. I probably have said before that I figured out how expensive this would be, how much time it would take to get across the bay and back on the ferry, climb the mountain, and try to do some work as well. So I ruled that out. One of the topics he had suggested was the Umbelliferae of Oregon. I vetoed that because it was a group I knew absolutely nothing about, so that, perhaps, was the first sign of something pursuing me.
At all events, when I was in my first teaching position at Washington State, I collected extensively and tried to send representatives of different plant families to people who were specialists in those particular groups, as I learned of them. One of the groups very well represented in that area was the family Umbelliferae, the parsleys, and I heard that someone in the East had been working on parsley, but I never could find out who she was, or where she was, so I accumulated the Umbelliferae specimens. By the time I got back to Berkeley, on the staff, I was carrying around perhaps a hundred or so specimens.
Much to my surprise I discovered that Dr. Mildred Mathias was here. Her husband, a physicist, was then working for Shell Development Corporation in Emeryville. She had taken her doctorate at Washington University, Missouri Botanical Garden, with the late Jesse M. Greenman. She wrote her doctoral thesis on members of the Umbelliferae in 1928, and by the time I came back here in 1937, she had worked at a number of different institutions across the country, and on a number of different groups within that family.
At that particular point she was working on the genus Lomatium, which is the largest west American genus of the family. She was impressed by the fact that I had collected so many representatives of the family and actually had been fairly successful in identifying them. Also she knew nothing about the geography of the West, and I knew quite a little by this time, having been born in Oregon, educated in California, and taught in the state of Washington, so I kibitzed to some extent and tried to help her out on geographical questions, and that led to our working together informally.
She had not been well. She had an ulcer, and she was very much pressured by the fact that she had agreed to prepare taxonomic treatments of this family for a number of different publications. All of it was beginning to weigh on her. One of the problems was that the classical treatment of the family for North America is that in the monograph by Coulter and Rose, done in the year 1900 as a volume of the U.S. National Herbarium Contributions, a very important publication in its day.
Since then, really, nobody had worked on them consistently. Coulter became the president of the University of Chicago, and Rose remained at the Smithsonian--I don't remember exactly how long he lived, but I think he probably died in the twenties, if not before that.
Lage
Coulter was another botanist who went into university administration.
Constance
That's right. He's one of the most prominent ones, probably. There are quite a few university presidents and other administrative officers, as a matter of fact.
At any rate, any time Dr. Mathias required more material, she resorted to the practice that's customary among museums, herbaria, that is, to borrow material. No one institution can possibly accumulate, house, and take care of all the material that a serious student needs for a particular project. So as soon as you start working--not as soon as you start, but somewhere along in the process--you borrow from other institutions. So she was doing that in her revising of Lomatium, but every time she wrote to an institution to borrow something, they would send her all the accumulated members of the family they'd acquired since Coulter and Rose's time, if not before. So we had rooms full of specimens to correctly identify.
Lage
Literally.
Constance
Literally. Some of them she hadn't even unpacked. So I tried to help her organize that, and so on. Informally, I was doing other things as well; in fact, I was working on another plant family myself.
At all events, one day she came in and said, "Gerald" (her husband) "and I have decided we're going to raise a family, so I'm going to give up the Umbelliferae, and I want you to take them over." I said, "I'd like to think about that for a while." Because with all the work she had done on them she was still overwhelmed; I wasn't sure that I wanted to get into that situation. But finally I made a counteroffer; I said I would work with her until she had met all the commitments she had made, and then we'd see what would happen.
So that is the beginning of my serious research and later publication on Umbelliferae. These three stacks of books are all, to some extent, outgrowths of that activity on this particular plant family. They include not only my work with her, but my work with students, visitors, work by some of the visitors, work of my own. I have omitted most of the small things and included things that are pieces of books. So I will to some extent ennumerate them as I go along and also say a little about the other people who come into the picture.
I think the first treatment that we did to ful fill a commitment was a treatment of Umbelliferae for The Flowering Plants and Ferns of Arizona, by Kearney and Peebles. It doesn't seem to have a date on it, it's simply an extract. The thing was originally published as a government bulletin in 1942, but
Lage
It's called the carrot family there, is that--
Constance
Well, Mildred usually calls it the carrot family, I call it the parsley--it doesn't matter, the family includes both. This was about a sixty-five page treatment, and it's particularly nice because the Stanford people furnished the illustrations.
Lage
Ordinarily do you have to come up with your own illustrations?
Constance
Either that or you don't illustrate.
So that came out in '51, and I remember sending the manuscript of our treatment to Professor Abrams just before I departed for Washington, D.C., in 1943. But the big commitment was to a publication known as The North American Flora, which was serially published--and still is--by the New York Botanical Garden. This is an attempt, which has never been completely fulfilled, to provide a classificatory treatment of all plants of all kinds growing naturally in North America.
The reason it has not been completed is primarily, I think, that so little is still known about the flora of Mexico. But it was really the first attempt to correlate the U.S. and Canadian material with Mexican, Central American, West Indian, and so on, and it was a tremendous job.
Lage
So when they say North America they're including Central America also?
Constance
That's correct. That's usual. For some reason the British always put Panama in South America, but we follow Theodore Roosevelt in regarding it as really part of the United States. [laughter] At least part of North America. Well, this was about a 250-page construction, our major accomplishment. This came out while I was working in Washington for the O.S.S. I used to keep galley proofs in my desk and work on them in between times. It was finally issued in 1944-45. So to that extent we had completed Dr. Mathias's various commitments, but we continued to work together for another thirty-some years.
Graduate Student Shan Ren-Hwa and Sanicula
ConstanceI made it a practice over the years, when I got sufficiently interested in the group, that when I heard that someone somewhere was interested in the same group, quite often I would write or send them a reprint, or else I was written to. One of the first foreign correspondences that I think bore interesting results was with a Chinese, whose name is Shan Ren-Hwa. The Chinese put the family name, Shan, first, and his personal name is Ren-Hwa. Within the past year or so he has retired as director of the Botanical Garden of Nanjing (the old Nanking, or Southern Capital). [Shan Ren-Hwa died on December 31, 1986.]
I wrote him on the twenty-fifth of September, 1941, and sent some reprints which he acknowledged on the ninth of December. We corresponded for several years. I tried to help him with literature, and so on, and at various times made some conversational remark to the effect that it would be nice if he could sometime come over here and work for a while. After the war, Chiang Kai Shek decided that China needed to have its young scientists brought up-to-date. Shan used my letter essentially as an invitation; he was able to come to this country and was here for the years 1946 through about April, 1949.
He originally came primarily to learn research, and I convinced him that while here he might as well see if he could complete his doctoral work and go home with a degree. I thought it would be interesting if we could work together on a couple of genera that had representatives both in Eastern Asia and in North America, and he liked that idea. Together we produced two monographs, one on the genus Osmorhiza, and the second one on the genus Sanicula. His thesis was: "The Old World Species of Sanicula."
He went home in the spring or early summer of 1949 on the last American ship to reach Shanghai. He had come to me and told me that he didn't know what was going to happen in China, but that he had his family there, and he thought that there was very likely to be a separation between East and West. He thought it was his duty to go home, and I agreed with him. My colleagues in the department always swore that I wrote his thesis for him, which isn't true--as I said, I just translated it from the Chinese. I did type it a few times, and I helped him express himself in English.
At any rate, I put the thesis into a publishable form after he had gone home. I started it out with this statement:
"The nucleus of this study is a doctoral dissertation by Dr. Ren-Hwa Shan, entitled `The Old World Species of Sanicula (Umbelliferae).' Dr. Shan returned to Shanghai just before the fall of that city in April, 1949. I have expanded the paper to include the American species of the genus and made other extensive emendations. Because of the cessation of communications between China and the United States, Dr. Shan has had no opportunity to examine and criticize these alterations. I entertain no serious misgivings, however, as to his approval of the data added and any conclusions obtained, since we worked closely together throughout his stay and always approached the group from a world point of view."
You may have noticed that I said the "fall" of Shanghai. If I had said the "liberation" of Shanghai, I'm sure that I could have been a cultural hero even during the Red Guard period.
Lage
No telling what would have happened to you here.
Constance
That's true. Since I did most of the Osmorhiza study myself, I was the senior author of that, and since Sanicula was based upon his doctoral thesis--a large part--he was the senior author of the second.
He left before he knew that his thesis had been accepted and a degree awarded. I tried various devices to try to get copies of the published thing to him. I didn't know whether I'd made it or not, but it turns out I had. He had gotten them.
Lage
What devices would you have tried?
Constance
Well, I was in correspondence with a Chinese in the Academia Sinica in Beijing, and I asked him if there was anyone in China--I sent him some reprints--who shared my interest in this family. He said, the only one he knew of was Dr. Shan. So I sent Shan a couple of copies, and addressed them, as though I'd never heard of him before, and that his name had been given to me by somebody in Beijing. I didn't hear from him at that time, and I had no idea if they had gotten to him or not.
Lage
Was this to protect him?
Constance
Oh, yes. The interesting thing is, as I said, I saw him off from San Francisco in 1949, and we reestablished contact in 1978 after several groups of American botanists had visited China.
A sort of long-delayed consequence of that are these two volumes--eventually there are to be three--of the Flora of the People's Republic of China that deal with Umbelliferae. It
We have had a very pleasant current correspondence. In fact, I was invited by Nanjing to go to China last year, but I regretfully decided that probably I'd better not undertake this. Shan was about my age, and I knew he was not well, but it was a very nice gesture. I wrote them that I thought they would get considerably more out of having a younger, more vigorous American visit. They offered to let me change my mind any time I wanted to, but I haven't yet.
Lage
But you might.
Constance
I might.
During the year I was at Harvard I had relatively little time to do research--I had administrative responsibilities there--but I did start working a little on South American Umbelliferae. Here's a small paper that I did in January '49, "The South American Species of Arracacia."
After I came back from Harvard, Dr. Mathias and I continued to work jointly but in different places. By this time she was, I think, originally in New York, then went to UCLA. where she spent the rest of her active career. We started working on Andean plants, and one of the Andean genera that particularly intrigued us was the genus Niphogeton.
Lage
This was not field work; this was borrowing specimens?
Constance
I have never seen one of these in the field. I have grown some, but I wasn't in the field. Anyway, I'm just illustrating that we began to get more into South American things. Then here is a treatment of Umbelliferae for a Flora of Texas in 1951. In the paper that Shan and I published on Sanicula, at the end of that paper, we speculated about some very narrowly restricted populations and suggested that possibly these might be the result of hybridization, or some other sort of genetic interchange.
A few years later I had a graduate student, who has now retired from the University of North Carolina, who was much more of a geneticist than I. He took that last piece of the Sanicula paper and wrote a thesis on the Sanicula crassicaulis complex, and he's done a number of other things in the family.
Lage
Did he find that they were hybrids?
Constance
Some were, some weren't.
The Remarkable Mathiasella
One of the things I've really always wanted to do was to name something after Dr. Mathias, because she certainly is one of the outstanding woman scientists of her generation. The fact that she was in taxonomic biology, which is not regarded as a startlingly significant field by many people, probably means that she didn't receive as many honors as I think she is entitled to, although she has received a great many.
People sent specimens to us jointly, so she always saw the same things I did. In one particular instance, however, the late Dr. C. Leo Hitchcock at the University of Washington, who used to take groups of students into the field in summer, one year took a group into northeastern Mexico. He had sent material to her, which she had sent on to me to name. When I supplied the names to him I told him that since his specimens were going to remain at UCLA. I'd like to have any duplicates up here he could spare for Berkeley if he ever got around to it.
A year or two later he did get around to it. He also sent me something that had not been sent earlier because it had not been recognized as belonging to the family. It was quite a remarkable plant, which unfortunately has never been found since.
LageJust that one sighting of it?
Constance
That's right, the only collection of it. A lot of people have looked for it. But we had a large collection, which is now represented in about ten different institutions. So at any rate I wrote up the plant as an undescribed species of a new genus, named it Mathiasella, and sent a typescript to my friend Hitchcock and put him down as junior author. He wrote back and said, "How do I know it's any good?" I wrote back, and said, "Who asked you?"
Lage
[laughs] Well, why did you put him as junior author?
Constance
Because he had collected it, and I didn't particularly like to be solely involved personally. He was a classmate and an old friend of hers, so it made it a rather nice gesture.
Pacific Basin Umbelliferae
ConstanceAnother genus we worked on together really started out with Mexico and South America--the little genus, Oreomyrrhis. It was interesting to follow it all down the Andes and thence all around the Pacific Basin.
Lage
Do you find that pattern very often?
Constance
There are others of that sort, but not many. This was interesting because it got me into working on things from Australia and New Zealand.
Lage
Now, is it distributed here without a lot of variation?
Constance
According to me there are, oh, I think about twenty species. Actually, twenty-three species in the monograph, and I've added one since. Some of them are startlingly different. There is one that forms cushions, some that have grass-like leaves, while most of them have very much dissected leaves, and so on. They're quite similar; I mean they're recognizably alike.
This is a map showing variation. [shows map] It's just a particular mode of display; I like to try to do "something different" in every publication.
Lage
I haven't seen this type of presentation.
Constance
It's rather nice. It's the old "pie-diagram." These segments represent contrasting characters. You see, when you get down here in the Falkland Islands (the Malvinas), all of the sections are clear, whereas up here in the northern Andes, at least half of the sections are dark.
Lage
And that represents different characters?
Constance
They represent six different contrasting characters.
At any rate, this got me into the Australia-New Zealand area, where I certainly can't claim any great expertise, but I'm just showing my dabbling around the world, so to speak. The same student who wrote this paper on Sanicula for his doctoral thesis, C. Ritchie Bell, also decided it would be nice if somebody--namely, he and I--undertook a survey of the chromosome numbers of Umbelliferae, which is simply a means of bringing gross cytological information into taxonomy. We started a series together in 1957.
He noted at that time that there were something like 214 taxa of Umbelliferae that had had their chromosomes counted. Since then we have gone on to publish five papers in the same series. With the work of other people, I imagine there are at least two thousand counts by now, which means there's about as much information on this as on perhaps any higher plant family.
Here is a treatment that Dr. Mathias and I did in 1957 for a Flora of Nevada.
Lage
Excuse me for going back, but is the cytological information significant?
Constance
It's just a chromosome number.
Lage
Is that significant in your--
Constance
Oh, it's another kind of data. For instance, all the Oreomyrrhis species have a chromosome number of six, which is found almost nowhere else in the family. Sometimes it helps, mostly it doesn't.
Lage
Does it help in some families more than other families?
Constance
Exactly, it does. For instance, all the pines have the same chromosome number, I believe. I think all the lilies do; I think all the eucalypti do, not the same number as each other, but all the species of each of these genera are identical. In some general genera, every species has a different number. Some species have several numbers. Most species have a single number. Sometimes the whole genus has the same number, sometimes it has 150 numbers. So you never can tell in advance, you can't tell why.
Lage
It's just one of many different characters.
Constance
It is another character.
Rafael Lucas Rodriguez from Costa Rica
One of the most interesting students I ever had was Rafael Lucas Rodriguez, who was professor of biology in the University of Costa Rica until his untimely death from leukemia three years ago. He came to Berkeley ostensibly to do a pharmaceutical study of some medicinal plant, because that made sense to people in Costa Rica--if you were interested in plants, there must be a medicinal value, or obviously you would have no reason for doing it.
##
Rodriguez not surprisingly had no idea how the system for graduate students worked. He spoke to a professor in agricultural biochemistry to ask him if he could work with him. The professor didn't quite understand what he was asking, but was affable, and Rodriguez thought he had, so to speak, plugged into the circuit, but he was really drifting.
Professor Machlis, who was chairman of my department at that time and was never one to let things drift, stopped Rodriguez in the hallway one day and asked him what he was doing, and ascertained that something was wrong. He called up the professor in question and found that he had no idea of any such relationship. Machlis interviewed Rodriguez and asked him what he was interested in. Then Machlis came to see me and said, "You know, he's really interested in systematics, or something like that. Would you talk to him?" And I said, "Sure."
So Machlis brought him in, and we discussed Costa Rica, his interests, and so on. Rodriguez asked me, "What could you do with plants for a thesis?" I said, "Just off-hand, I'm interested in the family Umbelliferae, and it just so happens that in Costa Rica you have an umbel that is the nearest thing to a tree of anything in the family in the New World. I think that since Umbelliferae are supposedly related to Araliaceae, which include ivy and are usually woody plants, while Umbelliferae are usually herbacious--it might be interesting to see how a woody umbel is put together, how it relates to other families and so on.
We talked about various things, and when he got up to leave he said, "I'll take it." And I said, "You'll take what?" And he said, "Well, that problem you suggested."
LageWas there any language barrier? Was that part of the reason he hadn't plugged in?
Constance
No, his English is excellent.
Lage
Just figuring out how the system worked.
Constance
That's right. So he shifted to work with me in 1949. He worked with me and my colleague Adriance Foster, who was a plant morphologist and anatomist. He spent seven years as a graduate student. When he left the graduate students gave him a special award, as being the first graduate student who'd earned a sabbatical in residence.
He lived in International House where he was a great favorite, because he was also an artist. He used to do all their posters, and he sang songs, made up songs, knew songs.
He never could quite make up his mind, but at all events the thesis that he eventually--these are all his drawings--that he eventually produced is a classic in its field. He not only worked on the woody, the tree-like, arborescent Costa Rican umbel, which is the genus Myrrhidendron--which simply says "umbel tree" for all intents and purposes. He compared it with related families, and, as I say, it has become a classic. The thing he probably will be remembered for, more than that, was that he set out a number of years ago to make watercolors of all the Costa Rican orchids, and he moved on to those of Central America and eventually wound up with, I think, something like a thousand.
Lage
So he ended up combining those two interests.
Constance
That's right. In 1986 there was published a book, "Generos de Orquideas de Costa Rica" by The Editorial, which, I take it, is the publishing arm of the University of Costa Rica. The problem, of course, was the expense of getting all these really gorgeous illustrations published.
One set of Costa Rican stamps has his orchid illustrations on it; also some of the currency does, or did. In Costa Rica they named a nature reserve for him, and he also won the highest humanist award the country gives. The only thing we ever published together was a little paper called "An Unpublished Letter from La Gasca to De Candolle," which we published in 1975 at his request in the little Revista that he edited in the biology department of the University of Costa Rica.
This is the rest of the publication. [handing something to Lage] When I was borrowing material to work on a particular group of South American plants, the herbarium at Geneva included in the loan a crude drawing and a copy of a letter written in Latin. The letter was from La Gasca, who had been director of the Madrid Botanical Garden, to De Candolle of Geneva, who was one of the principal European botanists. It turned out to be a critique by La Gasca of De Candolle's treatment of the family Umbelliferae in the Prodromus, which was De Candolle's great work and one of the standards of the nineteenth century.
So, with the help of a cleric, who was a friend of Rafe's, and using our own ingenuity, we did our best to translate the letter. Meanwhile I translated some of La Gasca's writings, which were all in Spanish, and we used that as part of the background for the little publication. The ironical thing is
The Ambitious Hiroe from Japan
Another character in my umbelliferous experiences was Dr. Minosuke Hiroe, who retired from the University of Kyoto a few years ago. I was never sure exactly what his position there was. He published a paper on some umbels in Japan, and I wrote him in November, 1949. Somehow or other I managed to get the Rockefeller Foundation to give him enough support to come here for the year 1955-56. He wanted to work on the Umbelliferae of Japan, and he arrived with a complete manuscript and some beautiful pictures.
I started looking at the manuscript and found it a bit difficult to follow because of the mixture of English, Japanese, and Latin. So I looked at his key--that is the short-hand way of getting to an identification--of the species in the first genus, and discovered I couldn't make any sense out of it. Then I discovered that the descriptions of the first three species were all identical? I tried to discuss this with him and I got very affable looks of complete incomprehension.
LageNow was this the language problem?
Constance
This was certainly, in part, a language problem. So, in essence, I put his manuscript on the shelf and learned about the Umbelliferae of Japan, wrote a revision, and used his pictures. Just how he came by the pictures I don't know. He didn't do them; one of his Japanese friends did. But, at any rate. I put together a revision of Japanese Umbelliferae, made him senior author, and we published it.
Lage
Now, did he have an input into this revision process?
Constance
No. I don't think he ever understood what I was doing. He spent almost his whole time copying the data off the labels in the herbarium. Occasionally, he translated something from Japanese into English for me.
Lage
He furnished the pictures and the collection of plants?
Constance
He had furnished a lot of specimens, that's right, and the idea of doing it. I certainly would never have gone into this on my own, I think.
Lage
Sounds like quite a task to undertake just because it happened to be dropped in your lap.
Constance
That's right. That's where the most interesting tasks come from.
Lage
Why did you make him senior author? It sounds as if he didn't contribute much.
Constance
Well, as I told you, I learned a long time ago that being a junior author is a privilege because everybody thinks you did the work.
Lage
And, in this case, it was certainly true.
Constance
This was published, as you see, as really a book-length publication, and I assumed that when he got home he would send copies--because I think he had a hundred of them, something like that--to other Japanese botanists. I kept on getting requests from Japan for this thing, a lot of them, so I wrote and asked, what's happened? He wrote very apologetically and said, "I distributed reprints in the Japanese fashion." I take it this means that you send copies to all your aunts and uncles, and ten copies to the Emperor, and so on. So I got him another fifty or so, and I did receive a nice note from the Emperor's librarian, saying how much the Emperor appreciated it.
He also wrote that as a veteran of the war--I hadn't known he was until he sent me a picture of himself in uniform--because his graduate work was interrupted by the war, if he could publish something under his own name before a certain time he could receive his doctorate, which, of course, would open a whole new career for him in Japan. So he wanted to know if, essentially, I would take my name off the publication.
Well, I wrote him as calmly as I could, and said that I had put so much work into it that I really didn't think I could do this, and secondly, I didn't think it would be quite honest if I did, because I thought he would recognize that I had changed what he had done very appreciably. But I said, if you want to translate it into Japanese and publish it locally, that's fine with me, but otherwise I didn't really see how I could conform to his wishes.
He wrote back very positively, saying forget that I ever asked, and so on. Then he published this paper [shows] in '58, the same year, "The Umbelliferae of Asia, Excluding Japan, No. 1" by Minosuke Hiroe. What this is, essentially, is a description and listing of all the Asian material that he had seen here and
A few years after he got home I received in the mail a very formidable package, which is a manuscript much like the one he originally arrived with, only considerably larger, which is entitled Umbelliferae of World, by M. Hiroe and L. Constance, 1958--that was the same year.
Lage
Of the world?
Constance
No, of world. I hurriedly wrote, thanking him profusely for the great honor he had done me but said I didn't think I really was competent author such an extensive treatment and asked him to take my name off it, which, fortunately, he did. Frankly, I thought that ended it.
Lage
A very ambitious sort.
Constance
But, as you see, it didn't end it. Here is Umbelliferae of World, published in 1979, printed by the Ariake Book Company, Matsuo Biru, Tokyo. This has been quite a sleeper, because it didn't get into the normal library circuit, and people heard about it and often wrote to me and asked me about it. Here is a review of it in Russian by a friend of mine, Dr. Pimenov. He sent me an English version, I believe. It's been reviewed twice, by two Russians.
The editor of one of the Scandanavian journals wrote me and said they didn't solicit reviews, but they had received an unsolicited one by one of the Russians. They didn't like to publish things that they thought might have a political bias to them. They felt this was rather a scathing review, and would I tell them what I thought? I wrote and said that I thought it was very merciful. He reused all the plates and script from The Umbelliferae of Japan, as well as some articles that he had done before.
Lage
So he used some of your--
Constance
Yes, well, that was all right. The book costs a hundred dollars.
Lage
It's not the definitive treatment, I assume.
Constance
In my opinion, it's not. I told Dr. Pimenov the story of how The Umbelliferae of Japan was put together, and he said he'd always thought it must have been written by somebody else, not the same Hiroe.
At any rate, Dr. Hiroe certainly was not frightened by large projects, shall we say? He's a very interesting chap, and I'm u fond of him. I've never been to Japan, but I'm sure if I got to Japan he would practically give me the country.
Lage
Is he a professor somewhere?
Constance
He's retired, but I don't think he was ever a professor. I think he taught in several university extensions, or preparatory colleges, or something of that sort.
Lage
In retrospect, do you ever feel that maybe you shouldn't have done so much for him? Maybe you gave him his start with The Umbelliferae of Japan?
Constance
Well, he'd probably have done it anyway.
Lage
With the original manuscript he brought you?
Constance
My feeling is that I learned a lot, and I'm sure that although he's messed it up somewhat, the Umbelliferae will survive. It's a good family if it can survive forty years of my efforts.
More Exotic Conquests:
Students and Colleagues from New Zealand, Pakistan, France
Dr. Mathias and I continued to write treatments of the family. This one is The Flora of Panama, in 1959. Another umbel student was John W. Dawson, who is now reader in botany at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand. In 1953 he applied for a teaching assistantship here, on the recommendation of one of our previous graduates, because he wanted specifically to work with me on Umbelliferae. He did a thesis on the New Zealand genus Anisotome. And he has carried on a career as a New Zealand expert on the family ever since.
That was an example of one of our former graduate students knowing about my interest and sending potential students here. Another one was Eugene Nasir, who has just retired as director of the National Herbarium of Pakistan. He wrote me in 1952 about coming to the United States for graduate work. He was a protege of Dr. R. R. Stewart of Gordon College, and Rawalpindi, a second-generation Christian Pakistani, which is a rather unusual phenomenon, I take it.
He wanted to take a doctorate, but he only had two years, and it simply wasn't possible to do all he wanted to do in two years. While he was here he did work on some Himalayan plants
A very interesting correspondence I got into was with Madame Marie-Therese Cerceau-Larrival, who is the head of the polynological laboratory of the National Museum of Natural History in Paris. In 1961 she wrote to Dr. Mathias to see if she could obtain pollen of the genus Mathiasella, which I had described. Dr. Cerceau actually wrote her thesis on the pollen of French and North African umbels at the University of Montpellier--she's published a tremendous amount of material.
LageSo she's a specialist in the pollen?
Constance
She's a specialist in the pollen. She's gone from pollen to seeds, to seedlings, and so on. I furnished material for most of the South American plants.
Lage
Is that something you collect when you collect the plant, or do you specifically--
Constance
Well, if you collect the flowers and buds you collect the pollen in them. It may or may not be in the right state, but I furnished a lot of material for her--almost all her publications cite our contribution.
I met her in Paris in 1963. She was working in a suburban laboratory, we were in her home. Her husband is a very delightful person, and she has two daughters who are very charming, just about through the college stage. We met her again in 1977, and were in her home again in a different suburb of Paris--she's a lovely person.
Meanwhile, back at the farm, I guess, Dr. Mathias and I were continuing our work on South American umbels primarily. After I went to South America in 1954 my attention turned more and more in that direction. This particular paper, published in '62, is a revision of Asteriscium and related genera. I started out to revise one genus and wound up revising five of them; one thing led to another.
Here is a treatment of the family for the Flora of Peru, 1962, so you see we were kind of expanding our range.
Lage
Were these outgrowths of your sabbatical year?
Constance
To some extent. I looked at a lot of stuff down there and got more and more interested. I mentioned the first Andean genus that Mildred and I worked on together was Niphogeton. This paper we published in 1962 was "The Andean Genus Niphogeton Revisited," because more material had turned up, and we described in it species from Colombia, Ecuador, and Bolivia. As you'll see, that genus has haunted us to some extent. Then we published a revision of the genus Bowlesia in 1965, which is again South American. It's in a particularly nice form because I had the services of a very good Finnish botanical artist, Reino Alava, who did this on the side, so to speak.
Lage
You're usually responsible for getting your artwork?
Constance
That's the only way you get it.
Lage
And who do you go to?
Constance
It depends. We have a part-time herbarium artist, but she's hopelessly swamped, so over the years I've sort of fended for myself, one person at a time, if I had a little grant money, which I usually didn't. Or I use the departmental artist when I can get her time, which is not always easy, unfortunately.
Describing the Shipwrecked Sailor, Naufraga balearica
One botanical coup, I suppose, is the genus Naufraga, which means "a shipwrecked sailor." It makes a nice match for the genus Saxifraga which means a "rock-breaker," actually. At all events, one of my umbel friends is John F. M. Cannon, who is the Keeper of Plants at the British Museum of Natural History. He works on Umbelliferae and on other families, particularly on African ones.
The Europeans, a few years ago, set out to do a complete flora of Europe, Flora Europaea, with international committees on both sides of the "iron curtain". It was really sparked by the English. They have carried the whole thing and completed it. They didn't attempt to work exhaustively with each group, but tried to get the latest, best treatment of each and correlate them. A lot of different people had their hands in the pie. John Cannon was responsible for dealing with much of the part on Umbelliferae.
He wrote sometime in the sixties, saying that as they got down to the bottom of the barrel, as people were looking at everything in European herbaria, they had found this rather
He wrote me a little description of it, and I wrote back and said I couldn't recognize the plant description, and how about sending me a piece? So he sent me a piece, and I dissected it and had an illustration made. I wrote back to say that so far as I could see, it was an undescribed species of an undescribed genus. It's from the Balearic Islands and has its nearest relationships probably in Tierra del Fuego and Tasmania.
Since they were having periodic meetings of the committees in charge of the project, he took this information to the next meeting. Then he wrote that the committee says: "Since you've figured this out, why don't you do something about it?" So I wrote it up as a new genus and a new species, Naufraga balearica, from Mallorca, put him down as junior author, and sent it back. It was published, and as far as I'm aware it is the only really new genus of higher plants that turned up in the four-volume Flora Europaea.
When I was in France in 1977, Professor Heywood of the University of Reading introduced me to some Spanish friends--or vice versa--and said, "I know that in the States you're known for other things, but over here you have only one claim to fame--you're the author of Naufraga." So that was really fun.
Then many people tried to find the living plant, unsuccessfully. It turns out that there is a big limestone rock on Mallorca, right at one of the places where most of the ships land. European botanists have been taking their students down there on summer and spring vacations for the last hundred years or so. It's strange that no one other than one Belgian plant ecologist stumbled across it. Apparently it grows in little crevices in the rock; it blooms very early and then dries up completely, so there's nothing left to be found.
LageIs the idea that it was brought here from Tierra del Fuego, or somewhere?
Constance
Nobody knows. That's where its evolutionary predecessors live. John Cannon claims that somebody thinks they have found it in Corsica, but I don't know; we have been unable to confirm that.
Several years later a couple of English amateurs did turn it up--it was growing at Kew [The Royal Botanical Garden, London], and I got some plants. I grew it here and obtained a chromosome count.
Lage
And the original idea that it's a new species, and a new genus--
Constance
Nobody's challenged that. I don't think they will.
Lage
Then you gave it that name that you described as "shipwrecked"?
Constance
Naufraga balearica.
Lage
And what does it mean?
Constance
"Shipwrecked sailor." You see, it's a long ways from home.
Lage
Right. That's a good name.
Constance
I thought it was kind of cute.
##
Looking for Perideridia with Student Chuang from Taiwan
In 1960 I had a letter from Taiwan from a Mr. Tsan-Iang Chuang, asking for reprints of The Umbelliferae of Japan, the revision of Oreomyrrhis, and so on. He came as a research assistant and graduate student in 1962. He was planning to come a year before that, but he was in the Taiwanese army, in the force defending the little islands which the Chinese mainland forces were bombarding periodically and were threatening to take. He actually made a herbarium between cannon shots while he was there.
I gave him a California problem to work on, the genus Perideridia. We used to joke about this, that he would do his thesis on a genus whose name he could never pronounce--neither could anybody else. These are the so-called California caraways. They turned out to be quite interesting. He's a good cytologist, so he had a lot of information on cytology, but he had trouble finding material. A lot of these things had been known to appear in the Pacific Northwest, and he wasn't able to find anything north of California. His explanation for this, after taking a couple of trips, was that the cows had eaten them all. I didn't take this very seriously, but I was away in 1963, so that I didn't share his first year of really working on the problem. So I said I would spend a summer working with him and that we would go up to Oregon and Washington and find them.
We did. We went first to Klamath Falls, on the east side of the Cascades, and then went across the Cascades. I could see what his problem was as soon as we got down to the Willamette Valley. In late spring and early summer the whole lowlands are
So we went there and must have spent two or three hours looking without finding them--all we found were carrots all over the place. Just as we were about to leave, I thought I'd take one last look. There was a little enclosure, where some concrete blocks had been thrown from work on bridge abutments, with a barbed-wire fence around it. I thought the plants inside the enclosure looked a little bit different, so I climbed the fence.
LageOver the barded-wire fence?
Constance
Over the barbed-wire fence. And sure enough, there were the plants, Perideridia oregana, that we were looking for. After that we managed to find species of the genus in a number of places. I worked extensively with him in revising his thesis, and we published it together in 1969. He stayed in this country and is now at Illinois State University at Normal-Bloomington, Illinois. He acts as my chromosome counter and has replaced Dr. Bell as the one who co-authors the series on chromosome number.
Lage
And he did get his doctorate?
Constance
He did get his doctorate. He's a full professor, or associate professor--I'm not sure which.
More Publications, More International Connections
ConstanceSome good things come in big packages; this a Manual of Vascular Plants of Texas, published in 1970. Dr. Mathias and I did the treatment of Umbelliferae for that.
Another foreign influence was Dr. Hans Froebe. He wrote me from the Botanische Institut of the University of Mairz in 1963. He was a graduate student working under the direction of the distinguished German plant morphologist Wilhelm Troll. What Froebe was interested in was the way the flowers of certain Umbelliferae are arranged in a so-called inflorescence pattern, how the flowers are borne. He attempts to interpret this in evolutionary terms. It gets pretty complicated and rather fancy.
The two groups in which he was particularly interested were Sanicula, which I've mentioned earlier, and the genus Eryngium and then some other things that are related to both of them. In these the flowers are arranged in heads rather than umbels. He wanted material; I was able to supply some. Then he arranged to come and work in Berkeley for a few weeks in the spring of 1971. In 1979 he published a monograph on the inflorescences, that is, the floral arrangement in another group (Hydrocotyloideae) of Umbelliferae. As you can see this is fairly complicated stuff. Some of the diagrams, which are partly philosophical, partly realistic, are really quite elegant. [holds up an illustration] This is a sample extrapolation of some of his stuff.
Lage
Abstract in appearance.
Constance
That's right. In 1970, a little before, I was approached by professor [V.H.] Heywood of the University of Reading in England, who had participated in the International Botanical Congress in Edinburgh in 1964, which we had both attended. The Scotch arranged to have several day-long symposia each devoted to a particular plant family. They used the botanical garden and herbarium as sources of representative material, and they had people come in and talk about various aspects of each of these families. Thus, there would be a day devoted to a single family. We thought it would be nice to take this idea and extend it, to have an international symposium on a family, with somebody talking about the cytology, somebody about the biochemistry, and so on.
He became interested in Umbelliferae I think primarily because he was involved in what has become known as scanning electron microscopy. This is a mode of magnification which enables you to see things that you can't see with an ordinary light microscope. The scanning electron microscope gives you surface features. I think he was casting around for some suitable plant material, and he hit on the spiny fruits of the things like carrots, and so on, which are covered with all sorts of fancy prickles, tubercles, and so on. From that--maybe not solely from that--he became interested in the family Umbelliferae.
To some extent we co-hosted this conference. which was held in Reading, as the list of contributors probably indicates. Note the names of Ritchie Bell, John Dawson, Rafael Rodriguez, Madame Cerceau-Larrival, et al. I had the initial historical paper, followed by John Dawson (I actually read his paper), Hans Froebe, Mildred Mathias, and others,.
Lage
The ones we've been talking about right now.
Constance
That's right. So they almost all got into the picture in one way or another. This very nice volume, on The Biology and Chemistry of the Umbelliferae resulted from the conference.
The French members of the conference thought it would be a nice idea if we would adjourn the conference in Reading and move over to Paris for another conference, but that had to be delayed for another few years, as I'll indicate in a moment.
Here's the treatment of Umbelliferae for the Flora de Venezuela. Increasingly, as we went along, I probably took a larger and larger chunk of our joint responsibility, but Dr. Mathias was largely responsible for this one. Here's a little revision of the genus Huanaca, which is Patagonian, but with relatives in Tasmania, which was a result of my being in Patagonia in 1967. It was published in an Argentinian journal.
Here's a treatment of Umbelliferae in an illustrated flora for the Brazilian state of Santa Catarina. They're doing a whole series, which is that [on the bookshelf], and I've got more of them but haven't room to put them up. This got us over into the Atlantic part of Brazil.
Lage
You contributed the Umbelliferae?
Constance
That one has three authors. The third author is the one who translated it into Portuguese. Then here's another paper that Dr. Mathias and I did, one of the last we did together, on a number of Mexican things, particularly those that had been accumulated at the University of Michigan.
Umbelliferae of India, Mukherjee, and Vanasushava
Another foreign correspondent is Prasanta K. Mukherjee, who is a reader in botany in Calcutta University. He wrote me in January, 1968, to say he was taking up the study of Indian Umbelliferae, and he asked for reprints and bibliography. In fact, he asked for so much stuff that when I xeroxed it, it must have been $100 worth or something of that sort. He made the same request to the British Museum, but I think the English tend to dismiss Indian requests sort of out-of-hand.
But I happened to have some funds available in my research fund which I was not going to use, so I thought well, okay, I'll do it. Later I had a letter asking if I would read his doctoral thesis. Here's his doctoral thesis, "Taxonomic Studies on Indian Umbelliferae" 1972, submitted for the degree of doctor of philosophy.
At what university?
Constance
At Calcutta University. The general feeling among most American academics is that there are few worse things in the world than Indian theses; they cringe at being asked to read them and usually refuse. However, I was impressed by what he seemed he know, and when I read it I was even more impressed. To some extent it's Indian English, and it was short on literature. There were some niceties, really, that weren't observed, but he obviously had learned a great deal. This was important, because the last treatment of Indian Umbelliferae of any extent was in the Flora of British India, by Joseph Dalton Hooker. That treatment of Umbelliferae, published in 1879, was by C. B. Clark. It's now over a hundred years old, and almost anything would be bound to be better than that, simply for the rate at which scientific knowledge grows.
At any rate, he said he had no chance of getting it published in India. I played with the idea of trying to see if I could get it published through blocked funds--the so-called public law 480, if I remember correctly. There are funds in India, as in many other countries, where relief supplies were sent during the war and sold. The funds can be used for cooperative educational projects and some other things. In other words, an American scientist could go to India and live off them, and so on. I'm not quite sure what they're doing now, but at any rate they're administered by the Smithsonian Institution. With the help of one of the people at the Smithsonian I finally got the Smithsonian to agree to arrange for publication of his thesis manuscript, with the stipulation that I edit it. I am still editing it.
Lage
Oh, it's not finished.
Constance
No.
Lage
Is the money tied up, so that you can use it, when you do finish the editing?
Constance
I hope so. I'm not absolutely sure of that, but I really don't know. They certainly have been carrying it along. At any rate, we've been working at it separately; it's difficult, because I have very little material, and he has very little literature. Most of the early work on botany in India--probably most of any work done on India--was done in Europe, particularly in England, through the auspices of the British East India Company. Their people collected plants, as well as everything else. So most of the classical herbarium material is in London, or Edinburgh, or Paris, or Geneva. And trying to get from the stuff that was published to what they actually had is really very difficult.
That little genus Vanasushava became intriguing, because we took it out of the large, primarily Asian genus Heracleum--. There's a native Heracleum here called cow parsley that grows six feet tall, which you may recognize. People who recognize umbels at all would probably recognize that one. This publication was rather an innocent act, something that needed to be done in trying to organize the material. But there was a group of people in France who had organized a sort of multiple-approach to problems of systematics and evolution. They hit on a so-called pluri-disciplinary approach, and they selected our Vanasushava as a kind of guinea pig. They wanted to see, basically, whether if you applied morphological information, chemical information, or whatever, you could demonstrate conclusively whether we were right or wrong in taking this plant out of the genus Heracleum and setting up a new genus for it.
I received a letter from Perpignan, from one of the French people who attended the Reading conference in 1970, saying that they were going to have a conference, and they would like to have me attend. This was to be held in 1977. I wrote back and said that I had just retired, that I was an old and penniless emeritus professor, and that my chances of going anywhere to attend anything were, shall we say, not the best. I really forgot about it. About six months later I received a letter saying that they'd like very much to have me come, that the National Research Council--or whatever the French equivalent is--would be delighted to pay my airfare from Los Angeles to Perpignan and return, and that they hoped I would reconsider.
I really wanted to take my wife, and this bothered me, because I couldn't ask them to pay for her and, clearly, if I could pay for her, then I could have paid for myself. So I discussed this with the late Professor Michel Loeve, a French mathematician on campus. He predicted: "They will write and say, we will be delighted to have Madame Constance." He was right. So I did reconsider, we went together, and we had a most memorable experience.
The particular excuse for my being there was that one of the topics was to be the multi-disciplinary examination of Vanasushava. Everybody got their hands and toes into it.
Lage
How did it hold up?
Constance
They all agreed that it was justified, that we were correct in creating a new genus. But another thing they decided was that it was most closely related to something that had also been incorrectly placed in Heracleum. So we were asked to go back and study that and see what should be done with it. Well, we did.
Lage
Was this another Indian plant?
Constance
Yes, another Indian one. So we described another new genus.
Lage
But it wasn't considered the same genus as Vanasushava?
Constance
No, not the same, nowhere near it, as a matter of fact. I don't think it had any close relation to it.
Lage
You don't think it is its closest relative, after all?
Constance
No, I don't think it had anything to do with it. In doing that, we discovered two other things that had been tucked in where they didn't belong either. Then there was something new collected by Dr. Mukherjee. So we described three other genera--Pinda, Karnataka, and Kedarnatha, all in '86. These are things that have grown out of the Mukherjee relationship. Mr. Mukherjee and I are still trying to finish this thing off.
In the spring of--I think it was--'84, I spoke to Vice-Chancellor [Watson M.] Laetsch about this project. Laetsch has good Indian connections, and he suggested I talk to the dean of the Graduate Division. I did so and was able to get Dr. Mukherjee over for a few weeks. He was able to go home by way of London, where he could study material at Kew and the British Museum. Next month he's visiting my friend Pimenov in Moscow, because the Russian Academy is cultivating the Indian Academy. So he got a chance to travel, and I've been strongly encouraging it.
Lage
When you talk about the attitude towards Indian dissertations, is this in your field, or in general?
Constance
In general.
Lage
Is it that the universities aren't well-regarded?
Constance
I'm not sure that I can tell you, but my impression is that the quality of Indian education is extraordinarily spotty. Some of the work is very good, and at least by western standards, a lot of it isn't very good. To some extent, I think, it's a master-colony sort of depreciation, but a lot of it comes from experience. We've had some very good Indian students here; we've had some that were not so good. So I think the general caliber--probably, with the number of people they handle, the kind of support they've got, and so on, it's amazing they can do anything. That's what it really comes down to.
Lage
Are you happy working with Mukherjee?
Constance
Oh, yes, he's a very likeable person.
Ripples From Umbelliferae: South America, Wyoming, Africa, Russia
LageI'm getting more impressed with each thing you bring out here. There are so many connections.
Constance
Well, that's the point. I mentioned the genus Niphogeton. First we (Mathias and I) published a little revision of this Andean genus. Then we found more material, so we published a re-revision, calling it "revisited." Then a Dutch student of moss ecology went to Colombia and did a fabulous job of getting around in the paramos. These are the high, above tree-line, rocky, wet areas, which happen to be a happy hunting ground for Niphogeton. He started sending stuff to us, and, needless to say, I encouraged it. We got so much new information that in 1976 we published a third paper on the genus Niphogeton, which I entitled "A Second Encore."
Lage
Now was this something that Dr. Mathias was working with you on? You have her down as senior author.
Constance
I carried her. [laughter] She was involved.
Lage
Has she moved on to another family, or--?
Constance
Oh, she's busy leading treks for University Extension at UCLA. She loves to go to the Amazon or Central Australia. She has been head of the major horticultural organizations in the country. She's published a book on horticultural botany. She's an amazing person, but she's essentially dropped Umbelliferae. She dropped it when she retired. In fact, the last time she was here--a few weeks ago, giving a lecture--she said that she had handed them off to me.
Lage
Which she's been trying to do now for how many years?
Constance
[laughs] That is true, that's a good point.
This is a 1976, this is a treatment of Umbelliferae for the Flora of Ecuador, which is published in Sweden. They're doing a whole series. I had a letter from an enthusiastic amateur, whom I knew nothing about, who has a summer place in western Wyoming. A rather unusual letter. He said he had a peculiar member of Umbelliferae which he thought might be a new species. He said he didn't know what genus it belonged to, and if it were a new species in a known genus he would like to describe it himself. If, however, I thought it were a new genus, he would like to have my help in describing it.
I concluded that indeed it did not fit any known genus, which is rather surprising for the Rocky Mountains, so we published an article, "Shoshonea pulvinata, a New Genus and Species of Umbelliferae from Wyoming," by Evert and Constance, 1982. These are all little things that keep coming to me from one place or another, in one way or another. It is a little like throwing a rock into a pool, the waves keep spreading--if you encourage them. Obviously I encouraged them. If I didn't write letters and left it all to the computer to do, most of these things wouldn't have happened.
Lage
This network that started so many years ago just keeps building.
Constance
That's right, it keeps going.
The Perpignan conference included, among other people, Madame Cerceau-Larrival. Dr. Bell was there from North Carolina; he and I were the only Americans. John Dawson wasn't there, but I read his paper. And I also got Dr. Mukherjee into it; he wasn't there but sent a paper, later published. Professor Heywood was there. Again, it was a gathering of students of umbelliferae from all over the world.
##
Constance
A number of years ago I had, among a lot of undergraduates, a girl named Jean Pawek, who I think as an undergraduate was probably a botany major. She and her husband went to east Africa as science teachers in a Catholic mission--Jean and William Pawek. Somehow I learned that she was collecting plants from time to time; I think that perhaps the botanical garden was getting a little material, seeds primarily. She was sending specimens occasionally to Kew, which was naming them for her.
Lage
Are there other people who have described African Umbelliferae?
Constance
Well, there are people working on African Umbelliferae, viz Dr. Cannon, but this was the first accumulation of chromosome numbers of any significance.
Let's see, in 1968 I had a letter from Michael G. Pimenov, who was then in the laboratory of crude drugs and has for a number of years now been at the botanical garden at the State University of Moscow. He was interested in obtaining reprints. He works on Umbelliferae, principally those of Central Asia, and publishes very, very vigorously. At times I wonder if there could be possibly that many Umbelliferae in Central Asia, but I think his work is good, excepting that I don't really read Russian, so I have to go by the illustrations, the scientific names--which are in Latin--and an occasional English abstract.
I met him at the Leningrad Congress, in 1975. These international botanical congresses are held at about five-year intervals. I really didn't expect to attend the one at Leningrad, but I received a letter saying that I had been appointed an honorary vice-president of the congress, and I think it went on to say that in order to get this, of course, you're going to have to show up.
One of my friends is professor Kenneth Thimann, who was head of one of the colleges at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Ken is a very distinguished plant physiologist, and he had been president of the International Botanical Congress preceding this one, which was held in Seattle.
I think he called me up about something else, but he asked me if I were going. I said, "I can't imagine it." After all, this was after I had retired, or was about at the point of retirement, and I didn't plan to go anywhere. I said, "If there were twenty-five Americans invited I would feel some obligation to go," and he replied, "So far as I know, you and I are the only ones." I started thinking about it, and one of my graduate students at the time was talking about going, so we thought
So we went, and we've never regretted it. It was a wonderful experience. At one point there was some sort of a session which Heywood was trying to get Mildred Mathias to preside over. She had a number of other things on her mind, so I was drafted. The session was at least partially devoted to Umbelliferae. The interesting thing was that in that room were all six of the Russians that I had corresponded with over the years. I had never met any of them. It was old-home week.
Lage
Were they enthused about meeting you?
Constance
Oh, yes. Several of them spoke English, some didn't, but they couldn't have been nicer, or friendlier. One of the people to whom I was particularly attracted was Michael Pimenov, whom I have mentioned before. He even went home and got his wife to come back and meet my wife and myself.
One of the things I've always very carefully avoided in my career as a taxonomist is getting embroiled in nomenclature, which is highly legalistic and involves all sorts of library work. Pimenov got the idea that it would be nice if we together did a paper on the internal nomenclature of Umbelliferae. I didn't particularly want to do it, but I like him, and in the interest of international good will I said, "Okay, I'll try it." He sent a long, multi-page opus; I had to check everything fifteen ways and squeeze a lot of the juice out of it.
Then I called up one of my friends at the Smithsonian Institution, who's active in this sort of thing. I said I couldn't really believe anybody would publish this stuff. He referred me to one of his colleagues, who's very much interested in it, and as a result they published this paper: "Nomenclature of the Suprageneric Taxa in Umbelliferae/Apiaceae."
Lage
I'm not sure what you mean by nomenclature.
Constance
Just names. There's a whole legal structure of biological nomenclature. In order for a plant to get into the literature you have to go through this business of writing a description of it, giving it a name. The names have to meet certain requirements. You have to designate a type specimen, and so on. Over the several hundred years that the Umbelliferae have been around, various people in various places have been using different names for different categories, in different ways.
The final publication I have is by Muhammad Yusuf Sheikh, who wrote from the University of Baghdad in 1968 saying he would like to come and do graduate work with me. I was brought to his attention by someone who was teaching with him there, who was a graduate student of mine, although he didn't work in umbels. He was an Indian. So it's rather interesting that a Christian Indian recommended a Moslem Pakistani. He came and did a thesis on Eryngium in California. Unfortunately I've not been able to get him to do more than to describe three new species from California. The first one of which, of course, is Eryngium constancei, the second one is E. mathiasiae. These are plants that grow in and around vernal pools in the valley.
That probably isn't all the ripples from Umbelliferae. I suppose I should wind it up by saying that I'm still working on the umbels of India. I'm supposed to be doing umbels for Flora Neotropica, which I don't expect ever to finish. I'm also working on them for the Flora de Colombia, and the Flora de Veracruz. I have a manuscript on umbels for a flora of Nicaragua. There are several other things in press or waiting to be dealt with. So that is my "pursuit of pursley," or viceversa.
I should say that not all of my students have worked on Umbelliferae, and mostly I've not encouraged them to. I like them to work on their own things.
Lage
But there seems to be so much in Umbelliferae.
Constance
Well, the thing is that if you become a specialist on a group, you know where the problems are. So it's easy enough for me to say that this could be an interesting project. I have a lot of Umbelliferae around I couldn't get anyone to work on. Also, when I became dean, the chancellor gave me a research assistant. I used the research assistantship to bring, among others, Dawson, Chuang, and Sheikh. I had four or five graduate students, and since their job was not only to be graduate students but to serve as my research assistants, it was easy to work them into things. Dawson wanted to work in umbels when he came, and Chuang insisted on working on them, I guess because I was doing it. So, that's that particular slice of life.
XX Further University Responsibilities and Professional Affiliations, 1963-PRESENT
[Interview 11: May 8, 1986] ##
The History and Function of Herbaria
LageLet's start with the herbarium.
Constance
I think to explain about herbaria to people who are not familiar with them I should enumerate the ways of studying plants. To find out what plants there are, how they can be grouped together so that you can talk about them to other people, and for almost all other kinds of purposes, there are really three major ways of studying them. First, studying them in the field, where they're growing naturally; but, obviously, access to all the plants in the field is restricted because of geographic constraints, by the very numbers, and by the fact that they're available only in certain seasons, in certain stages. This means that that is not completely satisfactory.
Second, and one of the obvious ways to get away from that problem, is cultivation. The third one, really, is to study preserved materials, one way or another. All three have been used since time immemorial. The story supposedly is that Aristotle had a garden in the middle of Athens, and his student, Theophrastus, who presumably is the originator of the study of plants, was given the garden as a place to live. So he lived in the garden in Athens and studied plants and wrote books about them.
Botanical gardens are usually traced back to Padua, in about the sixteenth century. Herbaria are almost coextensive with botanical gardens. Specimens that are properly prepared and protected are essentially permanent. However, they are subject to such hazards as fire, insect attack, and so on. We still have the herbarium--"we," that is, the botanical community--the Linnean Herbarium, of the famous Swedish botanist Linnaeus, or von Linne, or whatever you want to call him.
Lage
And the specimens are still in good shape?
Constance
That's right. Well, they're there; they can still be used, and they are still used as a basis of finding out what kinds of plants people were talking about in earlier times. I suppose that that is really the most basic use of an herbarium. A description is fine, but the earlier descriptions were very patchy. Botanists were very careless about the locations where their material grew. If you think about it, as long as one believed in special creation of each species, it presumably didn't matter much where they came from. Because if you had one specimen of one species, it was representative of that species. Presumably all the representatives would be just the same, so what difference did it make where it came from?
It's interesting that even such able botanists as Joseph Hooker and George Bentham at Kew--Hooker particularly, I think--used to take specimens that came in from collectors working in northwestern America, for instance--and probably everywhere else as well--and simply discarded the information about the plants that the collectors had recorded--the places where they got them--and simply wrote "Northwest America." David Douglas, for instance, was one of the famous plant collectors on the Pacific Coast and in Hawaii, where he died. He kept a journal and often gave a very full description of everything he collected, including Indian uses, and so on.
A few of those are still preserved in the British Museum of Natural History, and presumably a good many more at Oxford, although I have not seen the latter. There, if you turn over the sheets on which the preserved material is mounted, you may find a whole paragraph about the plant, often including Indian names. It's tragic that so much of that information was simply thrown away. They didn't recognize as we do now that species consist of a tremendous number of individuals which vary in many different ways because of their genetic make-up, environment, and so on.
The standard mode of preserving specimens of flowering plants is to dry them and then usually to mount them on sheets of cardboard, which are almost standard. That is, many countries use the same size, which is handy for manufacturers of herbarium cases, but unfortunately some don't. Thus Kew has little ones, Vienna and Stockholm have big ones, etc.
At all events, the herbarium of the University of California at Berkeley, like the botanical garden, has existed almost from the time the first instruction in botany occurred here, in the
There were echos of this when Professor Jepson, who was the prime plant taxonomist for fifty years or more in this university, died. He willed his herbarium, as well as his library and house, to the University, but with certain stipulations, and presumably if the University had not agreed to the stipulations, his herbarium would have gone elsewhere. He would probably have liked it to go to Kew, but I'm not sure that Kew was really that much interested in it.
Lage
Tell me what Kew is.
Constance
Kew is the Royal Botanical Garden in London. It started out as the king's garden-- or was it the queen's?--and became one of the great botanical centers of the world, which it still is. It's quite a sightseeing place on the lower Thames. Just down river from London. It's a gorgeous place, and when you go to Britain you should by all means see it. At any time of year it's interesting.
When I was appointed to the Botany staff, one of the stipulations of my appointment was that I would not maintain a private herbarium. I remember that the department chairman apologized to me for this and said that the University simply did not want another situation to arise like that of Jepson's. I said that was certainly fine with me. I had no intention of maintaining one, and I took the view that when you are appointed to an institution, that institution becomes the repository of your materials when you're no longer using them. I devoted any collecting I did to building up the University's collections.
When I came to the University on the faculty in 1937, I was immediately given a position in the herbarium, so I participated in its activities essentially throughout my career here. Dr. Herbert L. Mason became director of the herbarium in, I believe, 1933, or thereabouts, and he was very happy to let me do what I wanted to do. He didn't really consult me about management of the herbarium--it seemed to more or less manage itself, with the help of some very competent ladies--what positions they held then I'm not quite sure--associates, assistants? They would now be research scientists, and various kinds of administrative aides.
Directing the University Herbarium in an Era of Retrenchment
ConstanceI became director when Mason retired, and I continued until within a year of my own retirement [1963-1975]. I didn't devote much time to it until I retired as vice chancellor. My directorship was basically undistinguished. When the Department of Botany moved into the Life Sciences Building in 1930, for the first time in a long time all parts of the department were brought together in a single building. The University Herbarium had been housed in the Hearst Mining Building. It was brought into the new Life Sciences Building in specially prepared quarters built like the library stacks--and actually quite close to them--in which there were nine floors in a five-story building.
The actual herbarium or plant collections filled only about half of those nine floors to begin with, but by the time of my directorship, we had completed filling the whole bunch.
Lage
How did you handle that, as far as expansion?
Constance
We couldn't expand. We had no possibility of expansion, because we couldn't get support from outside for construction.
Lage
Did you attempt to?
Constance
Oh, we did a lot of talking.
Lage
With the University?
Constance
With the National Science Foundation, and so on. I did get the National Science Foundation to put in all the herbarium cases we could accomodate. During my regime we filled up the last free space. We had used the seventh level for graduate students up to that point, and at that point we filled that and all the other nooks and crannys insofar as we could with cases. There simply was no visible possibility of expansion, because the University was, shall we say, not in a building mode during the sixties and seventies. I don't imagine the University Herbarium would have been very high on the list, even if it had been.
Lage
Did you do any lobbying with the University administration?
Constance
Well, I suppose not really. I knew what the situation was, and it makes it more difficult to lobby if you know what the University is up against. If you have no idea, if you think the University's pockets have no bottom, I suppose it's much easier to demand what you think is needed.
It seemed to me that the only choice was to cut back on the input of material, so in essence, I put a stop to bringing in at least routine material. I think it's fair to say that our herbarium, like any repository, tends to fill up with repetitive material unless somebody looks at it from a fairly strongly selective point of view. Perhaps I was mistaken in doing that instead of screaming for more space, but, at all events, that's what I did.
Lage
Did you do any cleaning out?
Constance
Well, you can't do very much. The best thing you can do is exercise birth control. It's very, very hard; it's like abortion and birth control. There's much less quarrel about birth control than about abortion. When you have material in a repository which has been generally available for a long time, the moment you start to discard something, you may discover that it has been the basis of somebody's research.
One of the nuclei on which the University Herbarium was built was a series of duplicate specimens collected in the course of the geological survey of California, mostly done in the 1860s. I remember a number of years ago one of the graduate students brought in some specimens to the lady in charge of the herbarium, Ethel Crum, and said, "These ought to be thrown out because they have no data." it turned out that these were part of the original geological survey specimens, which, of course, are irreplaceable. They had numbers on them which would lead to the data. So it's very difficult to discard.
Lage
Did they get thrown out?
Constance
No, they did not get thrown out. When the Boston Museum of Natural History was turned into a children's hands-on museum, it had a herbarium, and the late Professor Fernald at Harvard claimed that he went through the discarded material and discovered a whole series of irreplaceable "types", which is very possibly true. So it's very much like a library; in fact, a herbarium is really a library of plant material.
The collection here at the end of my regime represented something like a million and a half specimens. It's one of the largest and most important, certainly in the western United States. Figures vary; I consider it about the fifth largest in the country, but you can always get arguments as to which is the most extensive, the most important, and so on. It's the only one in the western states in which a student or a staff member can essentially begin work with a group from any part of the world.
Now, no herbarium is self-sufficient, so there's an intricate system of loans, exchanges, and so on. Exchanges are where material is sent to be retained, loans are where it's sent to be used and returned. For any serious research to be done, one has to have that kind of access, the ability to get at much more extensive material. We can borrow material from essentially any part of the world, and we essentially lend to any part of the world. Sometimes we're not very happy about lending it. We had material burned up in New Guinea, and some was lost during various wars here and there.
Lage
Do you exercise any discretion based on what type of institution you are willing to exchange with?
Constance
That's right, we do exercise that kind of discretion. You usually do not lend to a private investigator; private investigators usually have to work out an arrangement with an institution. There are people here, or have been, who are not directly associated with the University, but for whom the University acts as an agent in borrowing things.
You mentioned the story on the herbarium in the "Berkeleyan" [April 30, 1986], and you'll see there that the present director, Dr. [Thomas] Duncan, has managed to obtain space in the Clark Kerr campus, and so now the herbarium is divided between the Old World and the New, which is inconvenient in some ways, because it means that you won't make comparisons between one hemisphere and another, or you're not likely to, and you may very well overlook matters of considerable interest. But it probably is the next best thing to having adequate space, and presumably in the plan for the biological sciences, the Life Sciences Building will eventually be gutted and rebuilt, and the herbarium will all be put back together.
I should live so long. At any rate, I was allowed to keep my material together.
Lage
Do you keep yours here in your office?
Constance
No, no, it's in the herbarium. I keep a little stuff here that I'm actively working on, but most of it's in the general herbarium.
Lage
That would make sense in your case, since you do so much with plants from around the world.
Constance
Well, the thing is that I dabble in Old World, New World, and so on. I am working on Indian Umbelliferae, for instance. Of course that's Old World material, and I need to have it where I can get at it. So I have been humored in that respect.
I don't know much more to say about the herbarium. I made some effort to try to do a small amount of purchasing of material from areas in which we had very little--notably South America, where I had good connections. But on the whole mine was an era of retrenchment. Probably regrettably so.
Speaking of my own activities, in relation to these different ways of working on material, I started growing material in greenhouses when I was a graduate student and have continued to do so ever since by utilizing the University Botanical Garden. In later years, in which I've gotten quite active, I've served as a back-up manager for the garden from time to time. My own field work pretty much ended when I took on administrative responsibility in the mid-fifties. Something has to go, and if I were to continue to teach and to do research, as I did, field work--which is more fun--mostly went out the window.
Lage
Except you did go to Patagonia. Was that field work?
Constance
I did go to Patagonia. That's right, that was field work.
Lage
In 1967-68?
Constance
That's right. Of course, I did a lot of field work in the western United States, starting when I was a child, really, and on up through college years, with varying degrees of enthusiasm at different times. Then, when I was at State College of Washington, my first three years of teaching. I did a great deal, partly because the herbarium there needed building-up, and one of the best ways of building it up was to get duplicate material and send it out as exchange. It also enabled me to learn the flora while I was doing it. It also was a lot of fun.
Then, when I came down here, I had the task of trying to learn the California flora, which is very diverse and pretty complicated. So for the first ten, fifteen years I did a good deal of that. In 1954 I went to Chile, and did a certain amount of South American field work, and then I went back in '66-'67, and did some more. But other than that I've done very little in recent years. Occasionally I've gone out to one end of the state or another, for some specific thing, but I've not done much general field work--which I think in many ways is to be regretted, because I've worked on plants from a lot of areas in which I have never seen the plants in the field. And that, in many ways, is not very satisfactory.
Lage
About the herbarium again--is there any public service aspect to the herbarium?
Constance
There's a good deal. It consists of everything from routine casual identification to association with the poison center. Particularly in the section of the herbarium that deals with mushrooms and toadstools, they're always busy with public inquiries, and then there's a great deal of routine inquiries just from day-to-day. It comes into both the University Herbarium and the Jepson Herbarium. In recent years, with the focus on the environment, the steadily increasing interest in rare and endangered species, and so on. there's a great deal of it. It comes in all the time.
Lage
A lot of questions that need to be answered.
Constance
That's right. I get it primarily because people have questions about the two groups of plants that I think I know something about. It would be a rare week that I don't get a written or telephoned request, and sometimes you get a great many of them. So that goes on all the time.
The Managing "Assistants" of the Herbarium:
Walker, Crum, Carter, and Howard
Lage
The other question I have is--you mentioned the lady managers, and then we have the director, who is a professor.
Constance
That's right.
Lage
What are the different roles there?
Constance
It works various ways, depending upon who's directing, and how he or she is doing it. I'm not quite sure how many herbarium directors there have been, because I don't think the title was really given until it was given to Dr. Mason in the thirties. I succeeded him, so perhaps I was the second formal director, but other people were certainly in charge of it before that. As far as I know, perhaps the earliest one was Harvey Monroe Hall, but I doubt that he ever had that title.
He was succeeded, I think directly--although I've not really checked on this--by Nathaniel Gardner, who was an expert on seaweeds. Then Dr. E. B. Copeland, who was an expert on ferns.
Lage
Does this mean you have a seaweed collection in the herbarium?
Constance
Oh, yes. We have one of the best ones in the world. I can say a word about that, if you like.
Berkeley has been a center for research on seaweeds--or marine algae, which is another term for the same thing (this is also termed phycology)--because that was the field of William Setchell, who was the first really formal departmental chairman. He came in 1894 and remained as chairman until 1934. He picked up as an associate Nathaniel Gardner, who was teaching high school I think on Whidbey Island in Puget Sound, and brought him here, and they worked as a team. Gardner was an excellent technician, although more than that, and Setchell was a wide-ranging thinker, philosopher, and whatever. And it turned out to be a very effective team.
So they really built up a school of phycology here, and then after Setchell's retirement a South African, Dr. George F. Papenfuss, was appointed and carried on this work. It's certainly one of the strongest areas of the University Herbarium, and it has made Berkeley a center for seaweed research.
Lage
Is it still an active area?
Constance
That's right.
Lage
Do students come here for seaweed research?
Constance
Yes, and there's a lot of interest in the sea and the sea's resources, so this is bound to have considerable practical importance; also it's an area of considerable interest.
Lage
We were talking about what the relationship is between the herbarium directors and the managers, if that's the right term.
Constance
Oh, yes. I think it's fair to say that Mason was particularly good at finding a skilled, competent, and self-reliant assistant--again, I'm hesitant about the terms. Actually, the herbarium to some extent was sustained by the intrastructure, while directors, to some degree, came and went--which, of course, is not unheard of in other places as well. In fact the whole university runs that way, according to some.
I never met Harriet Walker, but apparently she was the mainstay of the herbarium for many years. I don't know really with whom she started, but she outlasted several directors, in my judgement. And then Ethel Crum, who originally was an assistant of Jepson's, became the manager of the herbarium under Mason.
##
When Miss Crum retired, Annetta Carter, who had been an assistant to her, became the principal person in the herbarium. She carried on into my regime, but retired before I did. Alice Howard succeeded her and served during the rest of my regime.
Lage
Now, were they responsible for the day-to-day decisions?
Constance
They were responsible for almost everything. I don't suppose any of them would have initiated a brand-new policy of some sort, but Mason and I and also Dr. Robert Ornduff, who succeeded me as director, tended to leave the day-to-day operations pretty much to them in varying degrees. I probably was more involved than Mason in some aspects of it, and I think Ornduff probably was less involved than I, because he was also carrying the directorship of the botanical garden at the same time. He elected to give up directorship of the herbarium and retain that of the botanical garden, and Dr. Duncan was appointed to, in essence, replace me, although we do not make person-to-person replacements per se.
Miss Carter is a very remarkable person, who is also a research scientist on her own. She obtained a master's degree, and in more recent years has been working on the flora of the Sierra Giganta in Baja California. She's really become the department's representative in Mexican botany. She's widely and favorably known in Mexico, she attends various Mexican congresses and so on, and has been instrumental in enabling us to have good relationships south of the border. I guess I can't go beyond that, really.11
Lage
It sounds as if we have a pretty good picture of the herbarium, then.
Constance
Okay. What else do you want to know?
Lage
You mentioned a little bit about the environmental decade, and you make reference to it in your book on Botany at Berkeley. 12
Constance
Oh, yes. That's right.
Teaching during the Environmental Decade
LageI wondered what your experiences were working with students during the seventies?
Constance
There's no question that the student and public interest in environmental things had a considerable impact on the make-up of the student body in the department, and it certainly pushed up the enrollment in a very popular course on the flora of California, which Professor Ornduff really began. I had taught systematics for a number of years on the semester system, and when the quarter system was instituted, it more or less destroyed the course organization that I, and many others, had built up. I think it was at that time that Professor Ornduff suggested that we pull apart some components of the course I had given and make one of them really a non-prerequisite flora of California course.
Lage
Is that lower-division?
Constance
Yes. It proved to be immensely popular, and he and I gave it alternately until my retirement.
Lage
Is that Botany 10, by any chance?
Constance
No.
Lage
Was there a Botany 10?
Constance
There was a Botany 10. There still is, I think. That dealt with all the aspects of botany on a not very deep level. But this dealt almost entirely with flowering plants, and Ornduff actually did a little paperback on it, which is very well done. It was very popular. The number of people in the course multiplied severalfold, and it was good for the department because botany's not likely to be a very heavily enrolled course; it obviously doesn't lead to work in computers, engineering, or whatever are presumably pots of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Lage
You taught that course yourself?
Constance
Yes, I taught it a number of times. I taught both that, and, in later years, a graduate course. The graduate course got to be more and more historical and philosophical, and whatever. No, I kept up the teaching of California flora for a number of years, so that was my continuing contact with undergraduates.
Lage
Do you like teaching undergraduates, versus graduates?
Constance
Well. I think that teaching graduates is more satisfying in many ways. I enjoy teaching across the board. I think probably I am a better teacher at the graduate level than at the undergraduate, although I'm used to teaching classes of four hundred or so. I taught originally the first half of the big undergraduate botany course for something like twelve, thirteen years.
Lage
Is that the 1A series?
Constance
Yes. Botany 1A. And I began to feel I was running out of gas on the thing, and that took me up until almost the time of my deanship. I think that I used to alternate between teaching Botany 10 and Botany 1A, and I believe the last time I taught either of them was probably about 1955, which is the same year I became dean. Maybe it was my year as chairman, in 1954-55, that I taught it. I think the chairman wrote me in South America and asked me if I'd be willing to teach Botany 10, and I couldn't think of a good reason for not doing it, so I said I would. But I don't believe I taught it again after that.
Organizational Changes in the Research and Teaching of the Biological Sciences
Since then the many aspects of plant biology have changed so much that I wouldn't dare to try to teach the elementary course.
LageWhat would be your goal in that kind of elementary course? You wouldn't assume too many are going on with botany.
Constance
No.
Lage
Although in 1A and 1B they must have something in mind.
Constance
Yes, it's supposed to provide a basis for anybody who wants to go on in plant science of one sort or another, but now, of course, with the molecular approach--molecular, biochemical, and so on--it's much more complicated. As I say, I wouldn't dare to talk about aspects of plant physiology that I used to teach. Fortunately, I don't have to. What they're going to teach in the future, I haven't any idea. So far as I can tell, nobody else does either, but that's something else.
Lage
[laughs] Should be interesting. The Berkeleyan article discussed the different types of biology which the herbarium would be associated with: "the group of integrative, organismal, ecological, and evolutionary biology." That's referring to the whole organism?
Constance
What they're talking about is that, traditionally, biological science has been divided into the plant and animal kingdoms, but even the division into the plant and animal kingdoms isn't as sacrosanct as it used to be. Now people think maybe there are anywhere from three to a dozen different kingdoms, really. Some of them simply dwindled away, disappeared entirely during evolutionary history, or were so reduced that--
Lage
You mean three kingdoms other than plants and animals?
Constance
Well, there's the question of what are fungi? Are fungi plants? Maybe so, maybe not. Are algae plants? Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. Are all algae algae? That's debatable too, because if you go to a chemical basis for judging, you find different processes of obtaining energy, producing energy, of manufacture of nutritional material, and so on. If you take a strictly chemical view you probably could come up with I don't know how many--a large number.
At any rate, the old division between plants and animal isn't what it used to be. But historically most courses in organisms and living things were organized that way. So what you did was to discuss the structure, the function, the physiology, the chemistry, whatever: the organization of different levels all the way from the cell to the highly complicated multicellular organisms, within the framework of animals on the one hand and plants on the other. But everybody knew that at the unicellular level the distinctions between plants and animals are so vague that they probably don't really exist, and that the botanist and the zoologist, to some extent, study some of the same things as parts of their own kingdom.
Well, because of that, and the fact that it's been discovered that much of the genetics and chemistry in plants and animals is very similar, more and more institutions have tended to combine botany and zoology and make it biology per se. Then, in more recent times, not only have they done that, but the modes of study are so different; that is, in much of molecular biology, which is really the biochemistry of large molecules and proteins the modes of study are much more like those of the physical sciences, with very complicated laboratory equipment.
So the tendency has been to slice things the other way: instead of slicing them vertically between plants and animals, to slice them other way and study them at the molecular level, the cellular level, the tissue level, organismic level, and so on. Much of the information at the genetical level, the unicellular and cellular level, is almost directly applicable to matters of medical interest--neurology, and so on. There's a
That seems to be the trend. Here at the present time, the herbarium and the systematics' end of botany may indeed combine with the comparable aspects of zoology and paleontology into an organismic organization of some sort. What the rest of the organization is going to be I don't know--nor do I know what they're going to teach. There's something to be said for it; it's been done in many institutions, and obviously biology is so big you can slice it various ways, if you have to slice it.
Lage
It certainly will affect the types of research though. I would think.
Constance
It won't affect the types of research as much as the teaching, I don't think, because the question is, what are you going to teach? The whole biological reorganization has been set up in terms of research, as far as I can see. They haven't even talked about teaching yet. No doubt we'll have a super committee which will figure out something--I don't know what. I don't think you will really be able to tell for perhaps twenty years whether it was good or bad.
Lage
That's right. On the other hand, sometimes thinking all this through can enliven it.
Constance
It can, there's no question about that. It ought to be thought about every so often.
Lage
I had read that systematics was given a boost because of the environmental concerns about destruction of habitat.
Constance
That's quite right.
Lage
More people went into study, and more money was available for research?
Constance
Well, it simply has a wider public than it did. This also goes. I think, with gardens, that if it's fair to say that scientific support has tended to be inflated--or at least greatly increased--at the molecular, biochemical level. this doesn't do much for the public, at least outside of its medical applications. A few years ago there was an account in the Daily Californian that somebody was complaining that students who were interested in
At any rate, the general public is interested in organisms, and it's rather intriguing that a number of physical scientists raise orchids, or are expert gardeners, or something of the sort, but that they consider this recreation, not science. Whereas, of course, those interested in organismic biology feel it's just as much science as anything else, and that by comparison chemistry, biochemistry, molecular biology spend all their time dealing with things that are submicroscopic, or so simple they're not even interesting.
Lage
So there's a bit of tension between those two?
Constance
Well, there's no tension, because they have all the support, since it ties in with medicine. No, it's just a different concentration of interests. I think chemistry is fine, but I don't find it very fascinating.
Lage
That's why you're not a chemist.
Constance
That's why I'm not a chemist. I almost became a geologist once, but that's something else.
The Freshman Cluster Program: Antidote to Anomie
LageOkay. I have a note here on the Freshman Cluster Program--that was after you retired?
Constance
That is true. The Freshman Cluster Program was devised in the College of Letters and Science. In every agency in the University that's involved with undergraduate students--at Berkeley, at any rate--there's always concern, although the students, I take it, wouldn't believe it, for trying to alleviate the sense of anomie, or whatever it is, that students tend to feel here. Because Berkeley is a big place a student has to be fairly sophisticated to simply move into it and take advantage of its opportunities. I know when I came here as a graduate student I was pretty much lost for a year or two.
Many students who come here, who have the capacity to do well, don't, to some degree because they're lonesome and homesick and don't find anything to identify with, or find their own things to identify with. It really affects their work negatively. Some students, who are self-contained and
So what do you do? Well, one of the obvious solutions--any committee, of course, will decide that advising should be improved. So one is always improving advising. I mentioned that when I became dean, the committee on Letters and Science had recommended that every faculty member become a student advisor, and I carried that through as well as I could. But, like any system, that one goes for about so long, until people figure out how to beat it.
So that was allowed pretty much to decline, until someone came up with the idea for what became the freshman cluster program. Many people I'm sure have had the same idea; there was something that was in vogue when I came here as an assistant professor. You gather together somehow a group of new students, or old students, and put them in touch with an advisor who has similar interests. And you do various things to try to encourage interrelationships, so they feel easy with each other, so that the new student is able to get special attention. He feels that somebody knows him; he has access to some kind of advice.
The whole mechanism of setting up an ombudsman, not only in universities and on this campus, but in public life in general, is pretty much that same idea. Any institution becomes bureaucratized to some extent, and you wouldn't have the lobbyists in Washington, probably, if it were so easy to get the right kind of attention when you need it. But instead you have a very elaborate system of influence peddlers who are doing the same thing: they're enabling people to find their way through the machinery. And a lot of the complaint about the University from the students, in the sixties at least, was that the machinery was more or less impenetrable, or at least they couldn't get what they wanted.
So the cluster program was one of these devices for getting a faculty member to take under his or her wing a group of students with ostensibly similar interests. I think the first faculty director--this was set up in the College of Letters and Science--was Walter Horn. in History of Art. He is a very fine and distinguished scholar, and a very warm person, and he successfully acted as director of it for several years. The director's job was primarily to induce faculty members to take on responsibility. Shortly after I retired, it occurred to the college that I wasn't doing enough to keep me busy, so they induced me to take it on, and I did it for several years, so long as the program continued.
The results were pretty much what you would expect--that with the right people and the right chemistry, it works just fine.
Lage
The right chemistry?
Constance
Between the faculty member and the students. Some of these were highly successful, and a lot of them-- Well, let's put it this way: one of the things that quite often happens is that the faculty member would decide to get his group together and would arrange, say, for a barbecue, or a restaurant meal, or something, and two of his twenty people would show up. That was fairly common. Part of it was the difficulty of newly arrived students on campus in finding where they were supposed to be. Simply failure to make connections.
Part of it was--well, it's another story--but the students will tell you that they go to their faculty advisor's student hours, and he isn't there. The faculty member will tell you that he kept his student hours religiously for the first two months, and no students ever showed up until after the first midterm. So it's trying to overcome those natural reactions in the college community.
Lage
There must be certain sense of awkwardness, between this young freshman and--
Constance
Well, yes, that is part of the problem. Some of the students want absolutely nothing to with any advice whatever. They feel it's an assault on their manhood or womanhood; others want it and are afraid to ask; and the ones who don't need it usually get it.
Lage
Usually they're the ones who come in and know how to discuss things.
Constance
That's right. It's a very difficult problem, and I'm sure every college and university struggles with this. The larger the institution, the more it's a problem. In small colleges I suppose that very often the problem is the other way around: there's so much togetherness that nobody gets anything done. I remember talking to someone who came here from Oberlin, and I said, "It must be very nice to be able to work so closely with a small number of students." He said, "Well, it's nice for the students when they think nothing of calling you up at two o'clock in the morning and telling you the details of their love life, and that gets rather tiresome."
Lage
[laughs] Two extremes.
Constance
Nothing's perfect. At any rate, I enjoyed the college cluster thing.
Lage
Did you mainly get students together as a group, or would they come in--?
Constance
Well, mostly it was getting faculty members to agree to take them. I did not get involved with individual groups. I forget how many groups there were, but let's say there were forty or fifty or something like that; my job was simply to come up with faculty advisors, and that wasn't always that easy. Rather interesting that the most difficult people to get any help from were, I think, the great research scientists on campus--with the exception of people like Glenn Seaborg who enjoyed, apparently, doing this sort of thing. Most of the very hot research people couldn't be bothered.
In choosing the advisors I worked through the deans and departmental chairmen. Since at about this time the great reform of biology was coming along, and they were going to do away with all antiquated biology and just have, you know, really very significant biology. So I went to the then dean of biological sciences, and I said, "Since this is the direction that biology is going. it seems to me that we probably should stop selecting the advisors in the Freshman Cluster Program from people who are interested in plants and animals, and get people who are interested in the new, revolutionary biological research."
He said, "Oh, that is great." I hoped that he would give me a little help. He gave me some names of people, and I called up a number of them, and I found they were all too busy to waste their time on undergraduates. So not everything works. But I was very fortunate. My name was still remembered as the former dean.
Lage
You still knew everyone around the campus.
Constance
No, but they knew my name, and that helped. It was rather fun, and, as I say, I kept it up until there was a change in the deanship, and the new dean decided he would handle it a little differently, and then he left, and it's no longer in existence as far as I know.
Lage
They're no doubt trying some other method for solving that same problem.
Constance
The same problem. The problem is still there, and the same and many other methods will be tried, without a doubt. And to some extent that's good, as we talked about looking at biology from a different view. All these attempts have their value, and also
But it gave me a nice little chore, gave me contact with the college, so I stayed with it for several years.
President of the California Academy of Sciences:
Broadening the Decision-Making Process
Lage
We have just a few odds and ends for you to comment on [referring to interview outline].
Constance
Yes. There's one thing on that list, incidentally--I think somewhere it says something about my being a member of the Association of the Advancement of Science. One of the things I learned going through records was that I became a fellow in 1949, which I'd forgotten. I've told you about the Patagonia project, I think. There is an ongoing Flora of Patagonia, which is being published in Argentina, under the aegis of what really amounts to the research arm of the Ministry of Agriculture (I.N.T.A.). I was invited to come to Argentina and do field work preparatory to providing a treatment of Umbelliferae for that. I did that in '66-'67. For various reasons it's been delayed. Presumably it's on the verge of appearing--I used to think it was going to be my first postmortem publication, but with luck it may actually come out soon.
Lage
What did the presidency of the California Academy of Sciences involve? That's more than an honorary position?
Constance
Yes. I was also a trustee at the same time; you can't really differentiate the two. I was active in the California Academy, really, for about ten years, and served as president for three, I believe. [trustee, 1969-1985; president, 1975-1978]
##
Lage
Does the president of the academy have a policy-making role?
Constance
Yes. Well, the academy really has a dual organization. It is governed by a board of trustees, with a chairman, which is made up primarily of city fathers and mothers of San Francisco-- interested, dedicated, contributing citizens--and a few academics. It has a permanent director. The president of the
This Science Council really sets the policy for the research activities of the academy. So it is of some importance. Any contribution I made, I think, was probably in the direction of trying to get the Science Council to become a kind of academic senate. Because, at least when I first became involved, the departments--the staff--had almost nothing to say about anything. Nobody asked their opinion, or at least not very often. And certainly they weren't deeply involved in any decision-making.
Lage
And was it the director who made the decisions?
Constance
The director determined essentially everything. With some of my predecessors and the fellow academic trustees particularly, we set out to make this a more democratic and responsible organization. I think that that has worked out very well.
Lage
Is that a function of the particular director, or just the tradition of the organization?
Constance
It was the tradition of the organization, and like many of these things, when one person is in office for a number of years he tends to follow the pattern of doing it himself and not particularly welcoming extraneous advice.
The person that really carried it through was the late Professor Richard Jahns, dean of earth sciences at Stanford University, who succeeded me as president. I didn't start it, but I pushed it hard, and he pushed it further; I think it has worked out exceedingly well. There also was a change in director, and the new director--being new--was a little more receptive. I think it has considerably strengthened the academy. So I'll take that much credit, anyway. But I enjoyed the academy association very much.
Let's see, I think I was trustee for fourteen years and decided that was long enough. Besides, I wanted to reduce the age of the trustees. The most obvious way to do that easily was get people like myself off it, so I declined to stand for re-election.
Lage
It is an elected office?
Constance
There is a membership committee, which determine people's wishes as they go along. It was pretty clear that it was time for me to step out. Besides they're in a big fundraising mode, and I'm not able to do very much in that direction. My contributions were pretty clearly academic. [See "Reflections of Fourteen Years as a Trustee." Fellows Newsletter 6:7-8, (1986).]
Lage
Did the presidency of the Botanical Society of America [1970] carry with it certain responsibilities?
Constance
No, most of those national organizations are pretty purely honorary.
Lage
You make an address.
Constance
You make an address as you go out. You don't have any great opportunity to do much--at least, I didn't do much. I treated it as an honorary office.
A Lasting Influence
LageAre there any outstanding graduate students you want to mention?
Constance
I was thinking about that. I had two graduate students at Washington State, one of whom went on to become one of the most distinguished people in my field in this country. He's retired now as Asa Gray professor at Harvard. That's Reed Rollins.
Then, when I came to Berkeley I didn't take any graduate students for some years. The department was set up in such a way that my senior colleague, Professor Mason, would normally have the graduate students, and I would not, unless I either made an effort to obtain some, or some student expressed a stubborn wish to work with me. I was perfectly happy working in conjunction with my colleagues Mason and Foster. I served on the committees of essentially all the students that came along in systematics, and there didn't seem to be any particular necessity for me to carve out a slice of my own--or else I wasn't very aggressive in doing so.
The first graduate student I had was in 1941; that's four years after I came here. That was Alan Beetle. I don't know that there's any particular point in going on through this, but I have had quite a series of distinguished students, and they are pretty much all over the country. I think I may have said earlier that I had four Chinese Ph.D.s, and a Costa Rican one, a New Zealand one. I think all the others have been American. At one point I had three former Ph.D.s on the faculty at Harvard!
Lage
That does make your influence kind of spread.
Constance
That's right. I think I've been able to influence the direction of my tiny field to some extent. Of course, that's a satisfaction, and that's probably why I've headed various societies at one time or another. This August I'm supposed to go East to receive the Asa Gray Award of the American Society of Plant Taxonomists; that's probably my final kudo, I suspect.
Lage
You probably said that a couple of years ago.
Constance
I said that a couple of years ago and meant it too. But at any rate I've been very well treated. I've received as much recognition in my field as I could hope for. I've stayed active, by and large, longer than most of my contemporaries, I think. And I intend to keep on doing so as long as possible.
Lage
From the looks of your office--
Constance
From the looks of the unfinished efforts we have around here, it is pretty clear that--
Lage
Well, it's a working office. I wasn't commenting on the piles here.
Constance
I know, but I was. It is a working office, there's no doubt about that. No, I find it stimulating. It's very pleasant indeed, and it is a great privilege to be able to continue to work. People apparently trust me enough to still lend me specimens and send me inquiries, and I have a lively correspondence, which is getting out of hand, as usual.
Transcriber: Kate Stephenson
Final typist: Johanna Wolgast
Footnotes, Appendices and Index
Footnotes
1. ## This symbol indicates that a tape or a segment of a tape has begun or ended. For a guide to the tapes see Appendix 1.
2. See "The Years of Preparation, 1911-1948"; TAXON 31(3): 401-404, 1982. Constance Papers, The Bancroft Library.
3. See Mildred E. Mathias, Among the Plants of the Earth, and oral history conducted by Mary Terrall in 1978 and 1979, Oral History program, University of California at Los Angeles, 1982, 484 pp.
4. Mexia family papers and material on Ynez Mexia are in the Bancroft Library.
5. See an nterview with Annetta Carter in California Women in Botany, Regional Oral History Office, 1987.
6. C.D. Chretien, chairman. "Report to the Fcaulty of the College of Letters and Science by the Special Committee on Objectives, Programs and Requirements." 125 pp. Berkeley, 1957.
7. See Paul Dodd, Patient Persuader, UCLA Oral History Office, 1986.
8. According to Verna Stadtman in The University of California, 1868-1968(1970), Strong had notified Katz, who refused to answer questions concerning his alleged Communist affiliations, that he would not be rehired as acting assistant professor. In November, 1964, the Academic Senate voted 267-79 to condemn Strong's action. Katz was eventually rehired as acting assistant professor pending a hearing by the Committee on Academic Privileges and Tenure.--Ed.
9. For a summary of the events of 1964-65 and a detailed chronology, see California Monthly, February, 1965. See also Stadtman, Verne, "The Berkeley Rebellion," in The University of California, 1868-1968 McGraw-Hill, 1970).
10. Heirich, Max, The Beginning: Berkeley 1964 (Columbia University press, 1970).
11. See Annette Carter interview in California Women in Botany, regional Oral History office, 1987. Introduction by Lincoln Constance
12. Constance, Lincoln. Botany in Berkeley: The First One Hundred Years, 1978.
Appendix 1: Tape Guide
- Interview 1: January 23, 1986 1
- tape 1, side A 1
- tape 1, side B 10
- tape 2, side A 21
- tape 2, side B 31
- Interview 2: January 30, 1986 38
- tape 3, side A 38
- tape 3, side B 47
- tape 4, side A 51
- tape 4, side B 52
- Interview 3: February 13, 1986 58
- tape 5, side A 58
- tape 5, side B 68
- insert from tape 4, side A 71
- tape 6, side A 78
- tape 6, side B 85
- insert from tape 5, side B 92
- insert from tape 9, sides A and B 97
- Interview 4: February 20, 1986 102
- tape 7, side A 102
- tape 7, side B 108
- tape 8, side A 119
- tape 8, side B 127
- Interview 5: February 27, 1986 133
- tape 9, side A 133
- tape 9, side B 138
- insert from tape 12 side A 140
- return to tape 9, side B 145
- tape 10, side A 147
- tape 10, side B 155
- tape 11, side A 164
- Interview 6: March 6, 1986 167
- tape 12, side A 167
- tape 12, side B 170
- tape 13, side A 179
- tape 13, side B 192
― 347 ―
- Interview 7: March 13, 1986 196
- tape 14, side A 196
- tape 14, side B 205
- tape 15, side A 214
- tape 15, side B 225
- Interview 8: April 3, 1986 230
- tape 16, side A 230
- tape 16, side B 240
- tape 17, side A 249
- tape 17, side B 260
- Interview 9: April 10, 1986 268
- tape 18, side A 268
- tape 18, side B 277
- tape 19, side A 288
- Interview 10: April 29, 1986 293
- tape 20, side A 203
- tape 20, side B 302
- tape 21, side A 312
- tape 21, side B 320
- Interview 11: May 8, 1986 324
- tape 22, side A 324
- tape 22, side B 332
- tape 23, side A 342
Appendix 2: Curriculum Vitae
- Born 16 February 1909, Eugene, Oregon
- Married Sara Luten, 12 July 1936, one son
- Education:
- B.A. 1930, University of Oregon (Biology)
- M.A. 1932, University of California, Berkeley
- Ph. D. 1934, University of California, Berkeley
- Employment:
- Instructor in Botany, Assistant Professor, State College of Washington, 1934-1937
- Assistant Professor, University of California, Berkeley, 1937-1943
- Associate Geobotanist, 1943, Geobotanist, 1943-1944, Research Analyst, 1944-1945, Office of Strategic Services, Washington, D.C.
- Associate Professor, University of California, Berkeley, 1943-1947
- Professor, University of California, Berkeley, 1947 to 1976
- Visiting Lecturer and Acting Director, Gray Herbarium, Harvard University, 1947-1948
- Emeritus Professor, 1976-present
- Honors:
- Phi Beta Kappa, Sigma Xi
- Guggenheim Fellow, 1954-1955
- "Certificate of Merit, "Botanical Society of America
- "Miembre Correspondiente," Sociedad Argentina de Botanica
- Elected to Societe de Biogeographie (Paris)
- "Miembro Academico Correspondiente," Academia Chilena de Ciencias Naturales
- Member, Instituto Ecuatoriano de Ciencias Naturales (Quito)
- Member, Sociedad Botanica de la Libertad (Trujillo, Peru)
- Elected Foreign Member, Linnean Society of London, 1969
- First Parodi Lecturer, Universidad de Buenos Aires, Argentina, 1967
- Invited Symposium Speaker, Xth International Botanical Congress, Edinburgh
- Elected Foreign, Member, Swedish Royal Academy of Sciences, 1971
- Invited Speaker, Symposium on Umbelliferae, University of Reading, England, 1970
- Honorary Vice President, XIIth International Botanical Congress, Leningrad
- Fellow, American Academy of Arts and Sciences, 1950
- Moses Lecturer, 1978
- Fellows Medal, California Academy of Sciences, 1985
- Fellow, American Association for the Advancement of Science, 1947
- Asa Gray Award, American Society of Plant Taxonomists, 1986
― 349 ―
-
Record of Service to the Berkeley Campus, compiled from Biobibliographical Supplements (which go back only to 1950-1951); department committees and promotional committees
not included:
- Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs 1962-1965 Acting Chancellor at various times during this period of extreme upheaval, including the interlude between Chancellors
- Dean, College of Letters & Science 1955-1962; ex officio on many committees Acting Chancellor for one month
- Chairman, Department of Botany 1954-1955
- Director, University Herbarium 1963-1975
- Chrator of Seed Plants, University Herbarium 1943-47 (Asst.), 1947-66 (full)
- Trustee, Jepson Herbarium & Library ca. 1960 to date; Chm. ca. 1967 to date
- Advisory Committee Systematics Collections for the Berkeley Campus?-1973
- Regents Professorships & Lectureships Committee 1971-1975, chm. 1973-1975
- Search Committee, Dean, College of Natural Resources 1974-1975, chm.
- L&S Reading & Composition Committee?-1975, chm.
- Graduate Council Committee on Paleontology 1972-1974
- Lowie Museum Advisory Committee 1971-1973, chm.
- Life Sciences Building Space Subcommittee 1968-1973
- Chancellor's Task Force on Reorganization 1971-1972
- Hitchcock Professorship Committee 1958-1963, chm.; 1971-1974
- Letters & Science Executive Committee 1968-1971
- Representative Assembly, Academic Senate 1971-1972
- Committee on International Exchange 1969-1970
- Academic Planning Committee 1967-1970
- Committee on Naming of Buildings 1970-1971
- UC-Chile Program, Science Subcommittee 1966-1970
- Environmental Health & Safety Committee 1964-1969
- UC Press Editorial Committee & various additional advisory capacities extending back as far as the files go (1950-1951)
- UC-Negro College Program 1965-1966
- Berkeley Committee on Year-Round Operation 1963-1964
- Chancellor's Academic Advisory Committee 1956-1964
- Chancellor's Advisory Administrative Council 1956-1964
- Chancellor's Committee on Television 1961-1963
- Advisory Committee for the White Mountain Research Station 1961-1963
- Committee on University Affairs 1958-1963
- Student Affairs Committee 1958-1963
- Advisory Committee to School of Nursing 1958-1963
- Student Affairs Committee 1958-1963
- Bancroft Library Committee 1954-1963, chm. 1960-1963
- Executive Committee, Associates in Tropical Biogeography 1958-1963
- Advisory Committee, Naval Biological Laboratory 1958-1961
- Ad hoc Committee on Grants & Contract Research 1960-1961
- Ad hoc Committee on Berkeley Personnel Office 1960-1961
- Ad hoc Committee on Berkeley Registrar's Office 1960-1961
- Ad hoc Committee on Late Applications for Readmission 1959-1960
- Advisory Committee for Teacher Education 1957-1960
- Counseling Center Advisory Committee 1958-1959
- Committee to Prevent Duplication in Official Publications 1958-1959
- Committee on Interdepartmental Faculty Seminars 1958-1959
- Berkeley-Stanford Liaison Committee 1958-1959
- Committee on Educational Policy 1954-1955
― 350 ― - Special Committee on Student Facilities, chairman 1954-1955
- Budget Committee, 1950-1954; chairman 1952-1954
- Academic Council, 1952-1962
- Coordinating Committee, 1952-1962
- Letters & Science Committee on Committees, 1952-1955
- Committee on Graduation Matters (ex officio), 1955-1962
- "Outside" Service:
- American Association for the Advancement of Science: Vice President and Chairman, Sec. G, 1952
- American Academy of Arts & Science: Member, Executive Committee, Western Division, 1969-1971
- American Society of Plant Taxonomists: Council, 1944-1951, 1952-1958; Chairman of Council, 1947; President, 1950
- California Academy of Sciences: Trustee, 1969-1983; Vice President, 1972-1975, President, 1976-1979
- California Botanical Society: President, 1955
- Botanical Society of America: President, 1970, Council 1970-1973, Committee on Corresponding Members, 1971-1973; Merit Awards Committee
- Kosmos Club: President, 1969-1970
- Sigma Xi: Vice President, 1967-1968; President, 1968-1969
- Member, Commission for Education in the Biological Sciences (CUEBS), 1964-1965
- Member, Commission on Education in the Agricultural Sciences & Natural Resources (CEANAR), 1965-1968
- Member, Systematics Subcommittee, International Biological Program, NAS-NRC, 1965-1966
- NSF Divisional Committee for Biological & Medical Sciences, 1960-1963
- AIBS-NSF Committee on Communications Media in Biology, Chairman, 1960-1963
- Visiting Committee to Cornell University on Systematic Collections, 1965-1965
- Advisory Committee to Secretary of Smithsonian Institution 1964-1965
- Steering Committee, Flora North America Project, 1966-1968
- Advisory Committee, Hunt Botanical Library, Carnegie-Mellon University, 1965-1969
- Visiting Committee for Biology and Related Research Facilities, Harvard University, 1965-1971
- Chairman, Visiting Committee for Stanford University Natural History Museum, 1961-1963
- Member, Search Committee, Dean of Natural Sciences, San Francisco State University, 1974-1975
- Hoblitzelle National Award Committee, 1961-1963
Appendix 3: Photos
Ranger-Naturalist at Crater Lake National Park, ca. 1932
Ph.D. in hand, 1934
Wedding Day, July 12, 1936
Portland, Oregon
Rocky Mountain Park field trip, 1937
Passport photo for South American sabbatical, 1954
Passport photo, wife Sally and son Bill
Constance with wife and son on Berkeley campus, 1952
with Rafael Rodriguez, Mt. Oso, CA, 1949
with Harry F. Clements on steps of Life Sciences building, 1937
with Mildred Mathias, UC Botanical Garden, 1985
Sally and Lincoln Constance
Hawaii, 1979
Photograph by Sherwin Carlquist
Collecting in Tierra del Fuego, 1967
Index
- academic freedom, 48-49, 249-253
- Aikin, Charles, 204, 205
- Alexander, Annie, 94-95
- American Association for the Advancement of Science, 49, 61, 69, 140
- American Society of Plant Taxonomists, 138-140, 345
- anti-apartheid demonstrations, 272, 288-289
- Aptheker, Bettina, 276
- Bailey, Irving, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85
- Bell, C. Ritchie, 301-302
- Benedict, Murray, 133-134
- Biosystematists, 95-97, 139
- Bolton, Earl, 275, 277
- Botanical Society of America, 143-144, 344
- botany
- Brown, Edmund G., Jr., 189-190
- California Academy of Sciences, 92, 342-344
- Cannon, John, 310-311
- Carter, Annetta, 95, 333
- Cave, Marion, 62-65
- Cerceau-Larrival, Marie Therese, 309
- Chile, 152-161, 164-166
- Chuang, Tsan-Iang, 312-313, 321
- Civilian Conservation Corps, 28-29
- Clements, Frederick E., 27
- Clements, Harry, 30, 35
- communists, 107, 249-253, 276
- Constance, Clifford Llewellyn (brother), 4-6
- Constance, Ella Clifford (mother), 1-5, 10, 12, 38
- Constance, Lewis Llewellyn (father), 1-5, 10
- Constance, Sara Luten (wife), 16, 32-36, 46, 74-76, 86, 146, 317
- Constance, William (son), 71, 74-76
- Crater Lake National Park, 17
- Crum, Ethel, 328, 332
- cytology, 62-65, 95-97, 139, 301-302
― 352 ― - Davis, Alva R., 53-55, 80-81, 98-100, 108, 173, 177, 179
- Davisson, Malcolm, 108, 174
- Dodd, Paul, 228
- Depression, 1930s, 15-16, 25, 33
- Eastwood, Alice, 92-93
- ecology, plant, 27-28, 140-143
- education, undergraduate, 8-13, 17-18, 26-27, 171, 182-195, 212-213, 220-221, 235-237, 289-292, 334-342
- Eriophyllum, 20-21
- Goodspeed, T. Harper, 41, 51-52
- Grace Line, 146-152, 159, 163
- Feder, Edward, 196-197
- Ferruolo, Arnolfo, 202-203
- Fischel, Walter, 201-202
- Free Speech Movement (FSM), 235, 254-280, 288-289
- Fretter, William, 204-205
- Froebe, Hans, 313-314
- Harris, Joseph P., 127
- Hart, James D., 200
- Harvard University, 79-87, 97, 108
- Heirich, Max, 263-264, 267
- Henderson, Louis F., 8, 9, 11, 62
- herbaria, 29-30, 65, 324-327. See also University of California, Herbarium; Jepson Herbarium; Washington State College
- Heyns, Roger, 253, 285-287
- Hiroe, Minosuke, 305-308
- Hoagland, Dennis, 52
- Hydrophyllaceae, 61-64
- Jepson, Willis L., 17-20, 28, 31-32, 35, 36-37, 51-52, 56-58, 62, 97-101, 293, 326
- Jepson Herbarium, 97-101
- Katz, Eli, 249-253
- Kerr, Clark
- Latin America
- Lawrence, Ernest, 114, 223, 254
- Lipman, Charles B., 69-70
- loyalty oath controversy, University of California, 102-115, 223, 253
- Machlis, Leonard, 43, 303
- Malloy, Kitty, 257, 264, 268, 273-274, 283
- Mason, Herbert, 19, 55, 79, 99, 326, 332, 333, 344
- Mathias, Mildred, 65-68, 294-296, 299-300, 302, 308, 309, 313, 315, 319
- Mathiasella, 300
- Mauchlin, Errol, 277, 281-282
- May, Henry, 277
- McCown, Theodore, 205
- Merrill, Elmer D., 79, 82, 87
- Mexia, Ynes, 93-94
- Meyerson, Martin, 280-284
- Mirabilis macfarlanei, 45
- Moore, A.R., 14-15
- Mukherjee, Pransanta K., 315-319
- Munoz, Carlos, 61, 152, 153
- Nasir, Eugene, 308-309
- Naufraga balearica, 310-312
- New Systematics, The, 96, 139
- Nimitz, Admiral Chester, 107-108
- Oregon, boyhood in, 4-9, 38-40
- Papandreou, Andreas, 201
- Pawek, Jean, 320
- Pimenov, Michael, 321-323
- Pullman, Washington, 47, 50. See also Washington State College
- Rollins, Reed, 30, 43-44, 46, 61, 83, 86, 344
- Rodriguez, Rafael Lucas, 302-305
- Sauer, Carl, 87-91, 201
- Savio, Mario, 255, 261-262
- Scalapino, Robert, 275-276
- Seaborg, Glenn, 222-223, 225-226, 269, 341
― 354 ― - Searcy, Alan, 257, 258, 262, 267-268, 281-282
- Setchell, William A., 18-19, 31, 33-34, 51, 56-58, 332
- Shan Ren-Hwa, 297-299
- Sheikh, Muhammad Yusuf, 323
- Sherriffs, Alex, 257-264, 268, 274, 282, 283, 287
- Sproul, Robert Gordon, 51, 99, 102-111, 122-123, 173, 174-176, 215, 230, 240, 248, 269
- Stacey, J.W., 47
- Steward, Samuel M., 48-49
- Stirton, Reuben, 88-90
- Strong, Edward, 238, 250-256, 261-282
- student unrest, 47, 255, 283. See also Free Speech Movement
- taxonomy. See botany, taxonomy
- teaching. See education, undergraduate
- Towle, Katherine, 258-259
- Ullman, Edward, 71, 76
- Umbelliferae, 65-68, 293-323, 342
- United States
- University of California
- Academic Senate, 106
- Committee on Budget and Interdepartmental Relations, 102, 119-132, 134-135, 205, 207-208, 216
- Editorial Committee, 116-119
- See also University of California, Berkeley, Academic Senate
- Board of Regents, 51, 103, 107-109, 111-112, 223, 227, 243, 246, 253, 255-256, 287
- intercampus relations, 119-123, 176, 227-229, 245-249, 268
- Lick Observatory, 215
- See also loyalty oath controversy; University of California, Berkeley, relations with statewide administration
- University of California, Berkeley
- Academic Senate, Berkeley Division, 171, 231-232, 251-252. See also University of California, Academic Senate
- Associates in Tropical Biogeography, 87-88
- Botanical Garden, 54, 59, 60, 62, 169-170, 330
- Chancellor's Academic Advisory Council, 135-136, 230-233
- Chancellor's Advisory Administrative Council, 135-136, 230-233
- Chancellor's Office, 237-288 passim
- College of Agriculture, 52-53
- College of Chemistry, 208
- College of Letters and Science, 171, 172-222, 232-237, 338-342
― 355 ― - Department of Botany, 15-20, 40-42, 51-58, 108, 137, 167-172, 327, 334-338. See also Jepson, Willis; Setchell, William; UC Berkeley graduate education, Herbarium
- Department of Italian, 199, 202-203
- Department of Near Eastern Languages, 201-202
- departmental governance, 167-172, 197-203, 213-215, 218, 335-342
- Extension, 191-192
- faculty appointment and promotion, 35, 55-56, 78, 113-115, 125-131, 175, 225-226, 231, 249-253
- faculty-administration relations, 51, 54-55, 102-113, 179-181, 240-245, 249-253, 257, 265-267, 271-273
- graduate education, 15-23, 40-41, 56-58, 297-319 passim, 344-345
- Herbarium, 99-101, 325-333
- Jepson Herbarium, 97-101, 331
- professional schools and colleges, 127-129, 230-231, 242
- relations with statewide administration, 268-288
- students, 130-131, 168, 182-195, 338-342. See also Free Speech Movement
- vice-chancellor of, 237-288 passim
- See also loyalty oath controversy; undergraduate education, University of California
- University of California, Davis, 120-122
- University of California, Los Angeles, 116, 246-248
- University of California Press, 117-119
- University of California School of Medicine, San Francisco, 119-120
- University of California School of Nursing, 124-125
- University of Oregon, 6, 8-13
- Vaux, Henry, 128-129, 242
- Washington State College, 24-37, 42, 47-50, 173, 330
- Wheeler, Helen Marr, 98, 100
- Williams, Howel, 88-90
- women. See botany, women in
- World War II, 55-56, 71-77
- Wurster, William, 127-128
Courtesy of University Archives, The Bancroft Library, University of California at Berkeley, Berkeley, CA 94720-6000; http://bancroft.berkeley.edu/info
http://content.cdlib.org/view?docId=kt7h4nb296&brand=oac4
Title: Versatile Berkeley Botanist: Plant Taxonomy and University Governance
By: Lincoln Constance, Creator, Ann Lage, Interviewer
Date: 1986
Contributing Institution: University Archives, The Bancroft Library, University of California at Berkeley, Berkeley, CA 94720-6000; http://bancroft.berkeley.edu/info
Copyright Note: Copyright status unknown. Some materials in these collections may be - protected by the U.S. Copyright Law (Title 17, U.S.C.). In addition, the - reproduction, and/or commercial use, of some materials may be restricted - by gift or purchase agreements, donor restrictions, privacy and - publicity rights, licensing agreements, and/or trademark rights. - Distribution or reproduction of materials protected by copyright beyond - that allowed by fair use requires the written permission of the - copyright owners. To the extent that restrictions other than copyright - apply, permission for distribution or reproduction from the applicable - rights holder is also required. Responsibility for obtaining - permissions, and for any use rests exclusively with the user.