ing of science as one of the requirements of effective, liberal living in our technological society.

As the presidents of liberal arts colleges well know, there is also a shortage of college teachers of science, both in terms of numbers and quality. As we alert the nation to the need for more teachers of science in the secondary schools, we also should stress the equally serious needs of our colleges, particularly those institutions where little research is done, as industry and other agencies have drawn the promising young material away by providing_opportunities to do research and development and by higher compensation. I advocate more grants and fellowships to enable professors of science in liberal arts colleges to have time off from teaching to do research or to have firsthand contacts with creative work in science in our universities or in industrial or government laboratories. More thought has been given to making such opportunities available to high-school science teachers than to science teachers in the small liberal arts colleges. Wherever he may be, the satisfactions, the professional growth, and the teaching effectiveness of the science teacher are enhanced if he can do research or investigation or maintain periodic contact with these activities.

It is not only the liberal arts colleges that have a problem in providing the environment and professional opportunities adequate to attract and hold able scientists as teachers. Our professional schools of science and engineering have suffered in the competition for topflight men. Again using engineering schools as an example, let me review their problems as they seek to respond to the growing demand for engineers, particularly the more selective demands which I have already described.

Against the higher compensation and other attractitons offered by industry and other non-educational organizations, engineering schools are now more vulnerable and more in danger of serious deterioration than other educational institutions using scientists. They are more vulnerable, even, than the schools and departments of science. The university and the institute of technology are natural habitats for creative scientists. They are not, generally speaking, quite so natural habitats for engineers, whose professional work lies so much in industry and in the field.

The engineering schools are especially vulnerable now because their young and imaginative graduates and teachers especially those in the advancing, growing fields of technology-are more in demand for non-educational employment than any other group in our educational institutions.

If engineering education is to meet this challenge and reverse or even retard the spreading scarcity of quality in engineering schools that has weakened science teaching in high schools and other kinds of institutions, it must find a way to make engineering schools a more attractive environment for topflight engineers and thus for topflight teaching of future engineers.

Even though their enrollments have been down, the teaching loads in our engineering schools-exceptions exist, of course are very high, with the result that their faculties have too little opportunity for the creative work that leads to further professional development both as teachers and engineers. An informed observer recently estimated that only 10 to 20 percent of our engineering schools had average teaching loads as low as twelve hours per week or less. When we reflect upon the fact that these institutions are hard pressed to maintain their present level of staffing, we can readily surmise how difficult it will be greatly to increase enrollments and to enlarge graduate study without further burdening faculties and without a reduction in the quality of education.

The success of engineering education in attracting and holding more first-rate teachers will depend upon accelerating the development of more and stronger graduate programs. The graduate school and the research associated with it can provide engineer teachers with the opportunities for professional activities and growth as engineers which they now find chiefly in practice outside of educational institutions. In those engineering institutions where strong graduate schools exist and where there is a fruitful alliance with basic science, an environment satisfying to first-rate engineers has been better achieved.

Of course, more graduate study in engineering is essential for another reason. We need more engineers with more advanced training to meet the increasingly complex technological needs of our society. The engineering profession or our society can no longer be adequately served by a professional engineering educaWhile this undergraduate education that is predominately undergraduate. tion has great strength and a vital role in our total national educational task by providing a form of general education built around professional objectives, it 22201-58- -92

must be extended by more advanced training both in educational institutions and in industry. We must also attract into the undergraduate schools more of the students who have the intellectual qualifications for graduate work.

While qualified bachelor's degree recipients in engineering frequently go on for graduate study in other fields such as the physical sciences and management, the amount of advanced study in engineering still seems small compared to the advanced study required by the professions of law and medicine. The degrees are, of course, not comparable, but it is nevertheless of some significance that the number of advanced degrees in engineering, both master's and doctor's, in 1953-54 totalled about 4,800 (of this total, only 594 were doctorates) as reported by the U. S. Office of Education, while the total of M. D.'s and LL. B.'s totalled 6,757 and 9,898 respectively. Without dwelling on the impropriety of comparing apples and doughnuts, the implication is clear that the engineering profession suffers in comparison with the other great professions in the amount of advanced study undertaken. If engineering is to meet the challenge of our advancing technology it must promote more graduate study of top quality.

Many educators are also advocating changes in undergraduate engineering courses, and after a long period of status quo-itis, engineering education seems to show signs of the bold experimentation and innovation that marked it in its early days in the United States when it was struggling to throw off the unsympathetic sanction of classical education. There is a spreading conviction that the engineering curriculum must include a larger content of basic science, less of its traditional compartmentalization, more emphasis on such fundamental functional aspects of engineering as materials, thermodynamics, fluid flow, and energy conversion. These concepts lead inevitably to a more fundamental curriculum for all fields of engineering, with specialization deferred to the last two years of the undergraduate program and even reduced in these two years in favor of pushing real specialization into the graduate years or into the in-service training programs given by industry itself. Notable new programs representing some of these points of view are now being tried at a number of institutions. Industry, acutely aware of its needs for engineers of more depth, power, and versatility, is encouraging these efforts. Together these new goals scem to presage an increasing number of institutions dedicated to programs that are less vocational and specialized at the undergraduate level and fundamental enough in their basic science and advanced enough in their mathematics and humanities to educate a new breed of engineer more adaptable to our changing technology-the kind of engineer we are really desperately short of today. As I sense educational trends at present, we are to witness further efforts to exploit the vertical organization of education whereby the professional and the general are carried along in parallel with fewer discontinuities between the freshman year and the graduate and professional degree. New programs are under way in other professional fields, which may hold useful lessons for the education of scientists and engineers. The new medical school program at Western Reserve is a striking example, with its organization along functional lines rather than traditional departmental lines.

It is heartening to hear so much stimulating discussion about new approaches to professional education, and I think it bodes well for the future quality of our technology that some of the new ideas are originating in the engineering schools. A superb opportunity exists to provide a new type of liberal education polarized about science, unified by professional requirements, and relevant to the needs of our technological society. In our institutes and schools of technology there is a vision of a new kind of university, a modern university built around science and social technology rather than classical studies, but embracing the arts, the social sciences, and the humanities as essential and equal partners in its corporate aims and culture.

Whether one agrees or not about these particular concepts of engineering education, the ferment they reflect is important to the urgent task of maintaining and augmenting the quality of our science and technology and of educating professional engineers with a reach and grasp equal to the performance expected by our society.

In concluding these observations about engineering education, I wish to stress the importance of more variety, differentiation, and innovation in our system. We need more graduate study in engineering but we also need more technical institutes and junior colleges. We need more stress on science in the liberal arts colleges but we also need the kind of undergraduate program represented by our engineering schools, where a sound general education is achieved in the environment of a professional school.

In undergraduate education of all kinds we need a differentiated system, with institutions specializing in accord not so much with subject matter but with the standards and intellectual performance expected of their students. Whether undergraduate education is obtained in a liberal arts college or in an engineering school, it should be fundamental and never narrow. All these goals and concepts are important in attracting enough top talent into science and engineering and in achieving the quality of professional achievement these great professions must have.

I venture to express two hopes. I hope we keep in mind the possibility that a drop in business activity or in the volume of defense development or production could reduce the demand for run-of-the-mill engineers and scientists. Jobs temporarily might be hard to come by. Such adjustments, however, would not, except temporarily, reduce the demand for superior men; excellence will never be in oversupply for very long.

Second, I hope we do not set as our goal an academic numbers race with the Russians. The Russian educational system serves the state, ours the individual. They are highly specialized in their scientific and engineering education, and we are trending toward more fundamental generalized education, especially at the undergraduate level. Our objectives and our trends are more likely to serve our nation well, and to give us the scientific and technological strength which will be indigenous and therefore in accord with our special qualities and ideals. Our goal should be to meet our own indigenous needs superbly well and not to engage in a numbers race.

And now having reviewed some of the ways whereby education must respond to our manpower needs, I come finally to the consideration of those attitudes and values now current in America which complicate our efforts to increase our ranks of scientists and engineers. In these attitudes may be found some of the underlying and less obvious causes for our failure to increase the numbers in these fields in proportion to the increase in national demand.

We note today evidence of a surprising amount of fear of science and of a misreading of what science really is.

Some of this adverse reaction arises from anti-intellectualism, from the disdain and distrusts toward the learned man and the realm of reason which defaces the surface of our midcentury period like the tropical fungus which blemishes the polished surface of optical glass. Some of the aversion has grown out of the part which science has been called upon to play in the development of weapons. Antagonism towards science and engineering has also been engendered by a feeling that they are wholly materialistic and anti-humanistic. Even in this age of science we have residual legacies from the conflicts which swirled about great innovators like Roger Bacon, Gahileo, and Darwin, and other discoverers. In fact, there is some evidence that we are in a period of fresh reaction against science. Underlying this reaction is one of our great educational failures, the failure to find effective ways of communicating the meaning, the method, and the spirit of science to the nonscientist-a failure for which responsibility must be shared by both the humanist and the scientist. Valiant efforts to take the nonscientist into the arcana of science have been made, such as Conant's program at Harvard and Hilderbrand's at Berkeley, but the problem is still unsolved and is still receiving inadequate attention and creative effort.

Thus the condition of intellectual separatism remains as a deep fault marring our terrain of scholarship. Robert Oppenheimer, in an address in 1953 (The Scientist in Society) gave a superb report of this condition. "I have a great anxiety," he noted, "that our educational directions, far from making us a part of the world we live in *** may be even moving in the opposite direction. * * * We live in the world very much affected by science, and even our thinking caps, and our ideas and the terms in which we tend to talk about things, the notion of progress, the notion of a fraternity of scholars and scientists which is so familiar to a Christian life and which has a new twist because of the spread of science-all of these we can see originally at a time when science was understood by men of affairs, by artists, by poets. We live today in a world in which poets and historians and men of affairs are proud that they wouldn't even begin to consider thinking about learning anything of science, regarding it as the far end of a tunnel too long for any wise man to put his head into. We therefore have, insofar as we have at all, a philosophy that is quite anachronistic and, I am convinced, quite inadequate to our times. * * * Far more subtle recognition of the nature of man's knowledge and of his relations to the universe is certainly long overdue, if we are to do justice to the wisdom which

our tradition has in it and to the brilliant and ever-changing flower of discovery which is modern science."

This attitude toward science is described more bluntly in academic circles by well-worn observations. One of these notes that the scientist knows nothing of the liberal arts and regrets it while the humanist knows nothing of science and is proud of it. The other reports an incident in a liberal arts faculty meeting. When a student named Cicero was reported as having flunked Latin, everybody laughed, but when a student named Gauss was named as having failed mathematics, only the science professors laughed.

This drawing away from science is related to an attitude of antagonism and fear with respect to scientists. The old cliché about the expert is applied to the scientist. The scientists, it is repeatedly said, should be on tap but not on top. He thus is considered to be merely one of the hired men who has no business doing anything but what he is told to do in the field of his specialty. I have heard no statement that the lawyer or banker or economist or production specialist should be on tap but not on top. I do not imply that the scientist has any right or unique qualifications to be on top. I am disturbed by the attitude that because a man is a scientist, he is disqualified for public and private administrative responsibility even though he may have the qualifications.

This attitude reflects something wrong in the relationship of the scientist to society and in society's current estimate of the scientist.

I think that the scientist and engineer are themselves partly to blame for the manner in which their function in public affairs has been derogated. They have tended too much to professional parochialism. They have been preoccupied with their own trade secrets, too little concerned to communicate these secrets except to each other so that the public misunderstandings about science and technology can be diminished by facts and not aggravated by mystery.

But I also feel that the humanist has a responsibility for this hurtful condition. There is still too much of the separatist spirit among the lower reaches of the humanists, too much facile criticism of science as materialistic, too much envy of the scientist for his intellectual achievements, too much protesting that only in the liberal arts can the true gospel of man be found. There has been a tendency to make the scientist the scapegoat for the ills of the modern world. Our colleges and universities must share a heavy responsibility for this separatism, for they have too easily acquiesced in protective tariffs for intellectual vested interests. Is it not true that a spirit of snobbery on the part of both scientists and humanists, each derogating the other, is one of the most virulent forms of antihumanism? I feel so. It is the great humanistic responsibility of our colleges and universities to stress the kinship, indeed the unity, of all knowledge, and to ease the vested interests and snobberies which sometimes appear among learned men. Objectivity, for example, is not the exclusive monopoly of science, nor humanism the tight monopoly of the liberal arts. In these parlous times we need to remind ourselves of this and to seek to develop more sensitive couplings interconnecting the sciences, the social sciences, and the humanities. We need to remember how the great humanists of Greece, of the Middle Ages, and the Renaissance helped to create an intellectual and spiritual environment and attitude benign to the development of modern science. As Crane Brinton observes in Ideas and Men, "Science needed not merely an interest in material things; it needed the intelletual apparatus to devise the incredibly complex ordering of things we call science; it needed above all the long training in the use of reason afforded by the Greek and medieval philosophy and theology our innocent logical positivists like to deprecate."

Humanism is no less important today as an ally of science in the great coalition of learning we seek. The humanist is one of the principal architects and custodians of the benign environment which science requires for its success. The beauty the great humanist creates or makes us aware of, the perspectives of history he reveals, the "vision of greatness" he sets before us, his search for the first-rate in living, the eternal questions he asks-all these activities help to create the great society and the great men which science requires to flourish. We need also to reiterate how the great scientists have broken shackles of ignorance and superstition, given new leads in the social sciences, profoundly influenced and enriched the philosophy and the understanding of men and thereby given a new depth and reach to humanism. As George R. Harrison has eloquently written: "There is no evil, no inhumanity, in the primary task of science,

to forward man's love and desire for truth. An increased awareness of truth has often made men uncomfortable, but seldom has it made them less human. Science increases the areas of spiritual contact between man and nature, and between man and other men." When I hear our schools of science condemned as citadels of materialism and our liberal arts schools held up in contrast as the sole custodians of the liberal spirit, or when I hear that our schools of science have the only sound approach to education, I cannot but feel that the true spirit of liberalism and science is forgotten and the symbiotic relationship between the great fields of learning ignored.

The liberal arts of our time cannot be liberal if they reject or disdain science and technology. Thus science and technology cannot fulfill their responsibilities if our scientists and engineers lack the humanistic quality which has been ascribed to the Athenians-the art of making gentle the life of mankind. In our schools of science and engineering we must seek to cultivate this quality.

If American science is to continue to prosper, if it is to attract to it its proper complement of creative and gifted minds, we must combat the notions that science and engineering are incompatible with the great humanities disciplines, and that they are narrowly materialistic and destructive of human values. In the face of the practical responsibilities which rest in science and engineering for our security and our material welfare, it is all too easy for people to conclude that science is inimical to the spiritual ends of life and for them to fail to understand that in reality it is one of man's most powerful and noble means for searching out truth and for augmenting man's dignity by augmenting his understanding. Scientists have an obligation to make this true character of science better understood, not by an arrogant advocacy of science and technology as the only objective means to increase our understanding and well-being, but by the balanced and tolerant presentation of science as one of the powerful means by which man can increase his knowledge and understanding and still remain humble and ennobled before the wonder and the majesty of what he does not understand. When thus perceived and practiced, and when not misused for ignoble ends, science and engineering are a major means for "making gentle the life of mankind." If science can thus appear in its true colors and thus be recognized, we will have accomplished a major requirement for attracting enough first-rate minds into science and for maintaining a vigorous and advancing technology.

[Reprinted from 1956 Annual Report of Carnegie Corporation of New York, 589 Fifth Avenue, New York, N. Y.]

THE GREAT TALENT HUNT

John W. Gardner, president, Carnegie Corporation

We are witnessing a revolution in society's attitude toward men and women of high ability and advanced training. For the first time in history, such men and women are very much in demand on a very wide scale. Throughout the ages, human societies have always been extravagantly wasteful of talent. Today, as a result of far-reaching social and technological developments in our society, we are forced to search for talent and to use it effectively. Among the historic changes which have marked our era, this may in the long run prove to be one of the most profound.

Certain consequences of the revolution are immediately apparent. These have been years of unprecedented opportunity for the able and highly educated man. Never in the history of America have so many people spent so much money in the search for talent. The identification of gifted youngsters and the effective nurture of their abilities are problems of renewed interest to educators. Shortages in professional and scientific fields have become a national preoccupation.

The demand for educated talent is rooted in the nature of our life and time. It runs far deeper than the much-advertised shortages of the moment. We are now experiencing a distinctly transitory problem due to the low birthrates of the 1930's. This will pass. And some of the current shortages are due to the intensive program of military research and development. This may or may not pass. But we are concerned here with a deeper, stronger trend that has been in the making for centuries and is just coming to full fruition. Some observers fear that the heavy demand for educated talent is wholly a conse