Review Essay

The Role of Curricular Debate in the University

Mark R. Nemec

Graff, Gerald. Beyond The Culture Wars: How Teaching the Conflicts Can Revitalize American Education. New York: W. W. Norton, 1992. 214 pp.

Introduction:
Loyal Opposition in the Curricular Debate

curriculum (krIkjwlm). Pl. -ula. (L., =course, career (lit. and fig.) A course; spec. a regular course of study or training, as at a school or university.

1633 Munimenta Univ. Glasg. (1854) III. 379 Finito anni curriculo discessurum. 1643 Ibid. II. 317 Curriculum quinque annorum. 1824 J. RUSSELL Tour Germ. (1828) I.iii. 134 When the (German) student has finished his curriculum, and leaves the university. 1829Glasg. Univ. Cal. 39 The curriculum of students who mean to take degrees in Surgery to be three years. 1870 ROLLESTON Amin. Life Introd. 84. The completion of the entire curriculum of metamorphosis. 1888 BURGON Lives 12 Gd. Men II. ix. 201. Butler's immortal Work has . . . been elbowed out from the Oxford curriculum. (Oxford English Dictionary, 2d ed., 1989)

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For many scholars and administrators, the current curriculum has become as much a source of controversy as of consensus. Both Gerald Graff's Beyond the Culture Wars: How Teaching the Conflicts Can Revitalize American Education and David Bromwich's Politics by Other Means: Higher Education and Group Thinking, reflect the current climate for curricular alternatives.

"Traditionalists" who feel that the move toward a more "expanded" and "inclusive" curriculum has led to a decline in the stature and quality of universities, and "progressives," who welcome such a move, have defined public debate regarding higher education. Numerous critiques of American higher education and its curriculum have taken the traditional, conservative side (e.g., Bennett, 1984; Bloom, 1987; Cheney, 1989; D'Souzsa, 1991). Faculty members and scholars ¹ who support less traditional modes of inquiry and critique such as deconstructionism, feminism, and Marxism have made what Rosovsky (1990) characterizes as "justified demands for places in our institutions [of higher education]" (as quoted in Bromwich, 1992, p. 42).

Graff and Bromwich seek alternatives to this polarized curricular debate. The two literary scholars share some common assumptions and rhetoric in critiquing the current state of universities. They both argue that students are central to any discussion of teaching and learning, that students must be engaged in an ongoing conversation about and examination of what they study, and that high-quality faculty are critical for considerations of reform.

Despite similar backgrounds, shared assumptions, and motivations, Graff's and Bromwich's views of curricular reform are significantly different. In simplest terms, Graff seeks to move beyond the "wars" over curriculum by negotiating a peace settlement in which students study both sides of the debate as well as the debate itself. Bromwich, in contrast, argues that the current curricular debate condescends to students and trivializes scholarship by viewing education as simply a socialization process. He argues that students must be educated to view the world beyond themselves both presently and historically. The overall distinctions between Graff and Bromwich are subtle and varied. At their core, these differences originate from (a) differing conceptions of students and the teaching and learning process, and (b) clashing perceptions of the forces shaping the curricular debate.

Students, Teaching, and Learning

Concerned with the content and transmission of curriculum, Graff and Bromwich focus upon the nature of teaching and learning at the university. [End Page 216] Though acknowledging the bureaucratic and institutional barriers which teachers and learners must face, the authors concern themselves primarily with the interaction between faculty and students.

Focus Upon Students

Graff's Beyond The Culture Wars: How Teaching the Conflicts Can Revitalize American Education presents an intriguing argument that is reflected in its subtitle. In Graff's view the debate between "traditional" and "modern" curriculum fails to serve the student. He takes issue with Bennett, Cheney, Bloom, and others who argue that modern universities have completely failed their students by not providing a coherent, rigid course of study. However, Graff does suggest that universities have failed students by not including them in the current discussion over the course of study. In discussing the lack of consideration given to the needs, wants, and perspectives of students, Graff appropriately questions the salience of curricular debates to those around whom it should center:

Too much of the current debate is simply irrelevant to the educational problem as it is experienced by the struggling student. The most neglected fact about the culture war is that its issues are clearer and more meaningful to the contending parties than they are to the student. It is not the conflicts dividing the university that should worry us but the fact that students are not playing a more active role in them. (p. 11)

Graff stresses the need to consider the importance of teaching and of maintaining student interest. He suggests that debate over what constitutes the literary canon is meaningless if students are sleeping during lectures and uninspired to do the reading.

In Graff's view, the actual debates and conflicts which characterize modern academic life may be more interesting to students than the subjects and materials over which the debate is held. Building upon a hypothetical and somewhat stereotypical argument between an Old Male Professor and a Young Female Professor regarding the merits of Matthew Arnold's Victorian poem "Dover Beach," Graff attempts to demonstrate that the somewhat heated exchange between these two faculty members can be the starting point for a common cultural discussion which should actively include students. Graff believes that students have been essentially ignored in the debates over curriculum reform, not only as subjects, but more importantly as participants.

However attractive one might find Graff's suggestion for making the current curricular conflict the focus of study, one cannot help but ask what lies beyond his suggested examination of the culture wars. Graff's work seeks to negotiate a curricular settlement between what we might describe as the "traditionalist" and "modernist" camps. David Bromwich's Politics by Other [End Page 217] Means, on the other hand, looks beyond the current debate and critically assesses all contemporary conceptions of teaching and learning. He argues for a course of education in which students are encouraged towards inquiry and a way of living for something beyond themselves. In significant contrast with Graff's view of students, Bromwich argues that education, like Clausewitz's description of war is simply "politics by other means," if one views it simply as a process of social adjustment (pp. xii-xiii). Dissecting with equal attention the arguments of those in the "conservative" and "modernist" camps, Bromwich argues that the conservative political culture outside the academy and the liberal political culture inside the academy have both made the fallacious assumption that the social and intellectual realms are separate spheres. In this way, Bromwich's argument echoes Graff's calls for integration and connection between the academy and the outside world.

Focus Upon Teaching and Learning

In spite of a common belief that students need to encounter a cohesive and relevant curriculum, the two authors disagree over the proper focus of the curriculum and the appropriate ways to teach it. Graff contends that the study of literature is, in truth, the study of debate and conflict and that learning to read critically means learning to analyze the text and talk substantively and intelligently about one's conclusions. Students are effectively excluded from a discussion of the conflict because they find the texts and "hidden meanings" upon which much literary discussion rests difficult to comprehend.

Graff acknowledges that literary scholars of all schools often make inaccessible the language of theory and criticism which are necessary to participate in textual debates. Yet they expect their students to produce this language. Graff finds that the students' task is made increasingly harder by the expanding variety of their backgrounds and interests:

In the heat of today's culture wars . . . the need to line up one set of books and ideas over another obscures the fact that the problem for most students has always been the "more basic and simple" one of learning to deal with books and ideas themselves. (p. 87).

However apt Graff's identification of the problem, his solution fails to address all of his own concerns. In Graff's view, all styles of reading from the traditional to the Marxist are "methods." Students find these "methods" difficult, not because they find the "methods" lacking in substance or applicability but rather because they have not been properly socialized into the "academic intellectual community" (p. 76). Graff's desire to "socialize" students into the academic community is troublesome, for it implies that a [End Page 218] student's creativity and insight are not as critical as his or her understanding of academic conventions. Although he discusses the need for interaction between the university and the outside world, he finds the seclusion and isolation of academics an acceptable defense in this case. Rather than reaching out to students and their "community," Graff suggests overcoming barriers between faculty and students by instructing students in the customs and conventions of university's academic "community."

Bromwich, on the other hand, does not conclude that teaching the conflicts offers a solution to the problem of the detached nature of the academy. While his work, in consequence, does not provide specific suggestions for curricular reform, it does present a substantive and classic argument which is concerned far more with the philosophic bases of higher education than simply with current academic fads.

Grand considerations aside, Bromwich still offers a unique and articulate perspective on contemporary higher education. In response to those who argue for speech codes and other measures to "foster" community, Bromwich suggests that "the University has the task of 'fostering' nothing except the people who can use it" (p. 32), namely students. Bromwich decries the suggestion made by Graff, among others, that the university should be concerned with the inculcation of values in its students, stating:

Higher education is the learning of certain habits, above all a habit of sustained attention to things outside one's familiar circuit of interests; and it is the beginning of a work of self-knowledge that will decompose one's given habits and identities. In these respects the aims of education are deeply at odds with the aims of any coherent and socializing culture. The former is critical and ironic, the latter purposeful and supervisory. (p. 50)

The current debate is dominated by those who view education as concerned primarily with group thinking--the indoctrination of students into particular cultural and political persuasions. Bromwich expresses his disdain for such a view of education which dismisses individual, autonomous, creative thinking. He emphasizes his contempt for "group thinking" by beginning his work with a quotation from the early 20th century French mystic Simone Weil: "The intelligence is defeated as soon as the expression of one's thoughts is preceded, explicitly or implicitly, by the little word 'we'" (p. i).

According to Bromwich, the relationship of the individual teacher to the individual student defines higher education's study of the humanities, making discussions of "cultural" education and debate irrelevant as well as dangerous. For literature speaks to and of the individual rather than to and of that individual's culture. In his role as an academic discussing the presentation of literature, Bromwich states: [End Page 219]

Anyone who has ever taught a book that mattered to himself or to herself--for as long as he or she was attentive to the book--cannot have felt that an idea of culture was at stake. It hardly comes into the matter. One's relation to a book is personal: it is mediated by experience and thought, which may themselves be formed; but concerning the laws of their formation, no one has said anything approaching the intelligence of the artists one is impelled to teach. (p. 226)

From this perspective, the canonical debates upon which Graff seeks to build his curriculum are meaningless to Bromwich.

In reaching out to the individual student, Graff acknowledges that theoretical jargon and coded language exclude many from participating in the debates over literary works. This recognition does not, however, lead him to critically question the expanding role of theory in literary criticism and curricular debates. It simply leads him to suggest that we need to better indoctrinate students into the language and conventions of these debates so that they may actively participate. Many bright and intelligent students who have an interest in the "culture wars," literary discourse, and other academic issues may not wish to become members of the academic intellectual community, but Graff largely disregards their interests.

Graff is much more sympathetic to students when he considers the trouble they have in integrating knowledge from disparate disciplines. When arguing for coherence within the curriculum, he finds understandable "the confusion students feel when exposed to the abrupt and unexplained discrepancies in assumptions as they move from course to course and subject to subject" (p. 92). Using the metaphor of ships passing in the night, Graff laments that student learning is so specific to a particular course that it is difficult for students to connect it with other courses or with the outside world. Graff finds that the lack of coherence in the course of study has become so pervasive that disciplines have developed their own unique, but incompatible, standards for judgment and language.

Considering the example of a bright student in the humanities who attempts to use the conventional rhetoric and argumentation of her discipline in the social sciences, Graff illustrates the problems for students of ever-widening gulfs between disciplines: "Imagine trying to write an academic paper when you sense that almost everything you say can be used against you and that the intellectual moves that got you an A in existentialist philosophy may get you a C minus and a dirty look in Skinnerian behaviorism" (p. 111). This example usefully represents the student's quandary when facing disconnected courses. It also illustrates a weakness in Graff's own argument about the socialization of students into academic intellectual culture. For as Graff acknowledges, there is not just one academic culture with which a student must become familiar, but a series of academic [End Page 220] cultures defined by various departments and schools of thought within those departments.

Possibly oversimplifying matters, Graff argues that integrated learning, a concept he considers largely indistinguishable from interdisciplinarity, offers an escape from the current confusion a student faces. In an integrated curriculum, disconnections as well connections between authors become a focus of study. Playing on a conception of common cultural referents espoused by E. D. Hirsch in Cultural Literacy, Graff uses the examples of William Shakespeare and Toni Morrison to argue that one does not have to agree on the relative merits of Shakespeare and Morrison to study and compare their works with another. One simply needs to be able to articulate and assess what one reads. This integration is not simply intradisciplinary, it is also interdisciplinary. In Graff's conception of an integrated curriculum, we do not have to agree on the value of existentialist philosophy and Skinnerism behaviorism to study their commonalties and disconnections. Graff's desire for courses which relate and "speak" to one another at some level is praiseworthy.

However, we might wonder if Graff goes too far in suggesting that the model for such a curriculum is an introductory course, such as one at Wright State in Ohio where the standard sophomore survey of English and American literature is taught by almost the entire department with specialists spending a day or two teaching their particular area of interest (Graff, p. 179). The motivation behind such a course--to give students a basis from which to relate the materials in the survey to other more advanced courses--is admirable. However, such a course could conceivably prevent and/or disrupt any substantial student-faculty relationship and cast the faculty simply as socializing agents lobbying for their specialty and/or school of inquiry. To avoid this, as Graff acknowledges, integrated learning which focuses on coherence within and between disciplines must assume a cohort of high-quality faculty who are comfortable enough in their fields to be respectful of connections and differences between it and work from other schools and disciplines.

While appreciative of efforts such as Graff's, Bromwich does not conclude that teaching the conflicts offers a solution to the problem of the detached nature of the academy. Rather, Bromwich builds upon the works of the contemporary political philosopher Michael Oakeshott and the 18th century political philosopher Edmund Burke. Bromwich stresses the centrality of students and their desire for inquiry, the need for universities to substantively engage with the world beyond its ivory towers, the danger of professionalization among faculty, and the extent to which a progressive, dynamic, classical view of tradition can direct higher education beyond the currently trivial and deteriorating curricular debate. Unlike Graff who writes [End Page 221] as an educational reformer proposing a particular course of action, Bromwich writes as a literary, political, and social critic.

Making a general criticism of writers like columnist George Will who casually propose a great books curriculum, Bromwich accuses Will and his fellows of thinking in lists of names; however, "lists of names do not think" (p. 51). It is the individual work whose connections to other works are drawn by students through substantive inquiry which defines literary study. Bromwich acknowledges that allowing works to speak largely for themselves is a privileged view often built upon teaching very bright and motivated students. Nevertheless, he argues that this accomplishment is education in its sincerest sense, for "the study of literature is . . . defensible as an act of recovery that connects us with the persistence of human nature over time" (p. 205). Bromwich does not see courses as self-contained; they are instead vehicles by which students participate in a continuing, if unspoken, conversation between works in the humanities and between the humanities and the world as a whole. The study of literature and humanities, he suggests, is essential for developing the liberally educated individual.

Bromwich dismisses and laments those who consider the "functional, corporate, scientifically cashable" applications of higher education to the job market and general industry (p. 233). For better or worse, many students, especially those in undergraduate pre-professional programs, view their college education as "cashable." Unfortunately, Bromwich never directly acknowledges the needs of these students. Instead, he suggests that the pursuit of true scholarship and liberal learning which he proposes has never quite been in step with the commercial spirit of American society. ² One might also infer from this conclusion that universities have never quite been in step with the needs of many of their business and career-oriented students.

Graff and Bromwich's consideration of curriculum within the university leads to questions of how "in step" universities should be with contemporary society. The world beyond the course of study thus becomes a critical issue in their discussion.

Shaping the Debate

Issues of Communication

Economic, social, and cultural forces from outside the classroom are significant factors in Graff's suggestions for finding common points of examination. Graff believes that the integrated curriculum he suggests should not only make connections between courses and disciplines but should also [End Page 222] make connections with the outside world. Graff takes examples of politicized curriculum debates from the work of educational historians (Horowitz, 1986; Veysey, 1965) to reply to those who feel that such debates over content have no place in the university. Building upon this historical perspective, Graff argues that the whole history of curriculum in the American university has been characterized by contentious debate over its content, thus echoing a theme prominent in Rudolph (1993).

Questions of salience and relevance to daily life also shape Graff's view of the professoriate and its role in seeking common ground in the debates over canons and curriculum. Graff defends the modern and "professional" faculty from the attacks of those such as Bloom (1987) and Cheney (1989) who see the perpetuation of area and cultural studies, academic journals, and literary theory as emblematic of increasing specialization. He argues that these 'professional' faculty are, in fact, bridging gaps between the disciplines and allowing for a more integrated approach to the curriculum. Graff concludes his defense of modern, theory-based humanities research by stating:

What critics [Bloom and Cheney] . . . mistake for specialization are, in fact, new languages of generalization whose premises they either do not understand or do not agree with--usually both. These new languages--usually lumped under the term "theory"--have made it possible for disciplines that were once closed to one another by their specialization not only to converse but to poach off one another to a notorious degree. (p. 121)

In Graff's mind, this "poaching" leads to greater integration between the disciplines, which by extension means greater integration between the university and the outside world.

Even proponents of interdisciplinarity may be skeptical of the ease with which Graff makes this last step. Interdisciplinarity certainly does not promise that students will be drawn to or challenged by a scholar's work. In either interdisciplinary or single discipline work, the quality of scholarship is still the largest determinant of salience and accessibility. There is truth to Graff's assumption that communication across disciplines can foster high-quality scholarship. However, there are limits to his implication that such communication guarantees good quality scholarship.

Bromwich shares Graff's concern with the production of high-quality scholars and high-quality scholarship. However, rather than negotiating a settlement between camps in the "culture wars," Bromwich attempts to negotiate between a fractured society beyond the university and the fractured disciplines within it. Bromwich finds that the lack of substantive and meaningful discussion between the university and outside world also occurs between departments.

Bromwich argues against Graff's support of professionalization in the disciplines. Bromwich considers inquiry in the humanities to be a conversation [End Page 223] which is carried across genres and across boundaries of disciplines. Graff and Bromwich largely agree on this view. Bromwich, however, takes issue with Graff's defense of theory-laden interdisciplinarity.

Bromwich advocates an interdisciplinary conversation in which all who participate are capable of replying. He views the current expansion of critical theory to be a product of insulation. Specialization provides theorists with a limited language which frees them from the judgment of others as well as the burden of learning of the world beyond their particular, although possibly interdisciplinary, specializations (p. 174). In Bromwich's view, the great defender of western culture, Allan Bloom (1987), and the great proponent of non-western culture, Barbara Herrnstein Smith, share a desire for insularity. Bromwich characterizes their attitude as being, "Do not distract me from the politics of theory by talk of mere politics" (p. 225). To move beyond the insularity of culture wars, scholars must stress the need for individual inquiry and develop a sincere rather than a cynical interest in life beyond the university's walls.

Issues of Content

Though seeking to find a "middle ground" in teaching the conflicts, it is clear by the end of his work that Graff sympathizes largely with the "modern" forces in such a debate. From dismissing most horror stories over political correctness as "bogus" (p. 8) to defending the perpetuation of theoretical language in scholarly writing (p. 121), Graff argues that modern economic, social, cultural, and political circumstances demand a reformulation of the classic conception of the university. In Graff's view, the classically conceived university "is expected to preserve, transmit, and honor our traditions, yet at the same time it is supposed to produce new knowledge, which means questioning received ideas and perpetually revising traditional ways of thinking" (p. 7). According to Graff, the new conception of the university must move beyond these contradictions which stand at the heart of the current educational conflicts.

Buffeted by external pressures, the university can no longer maintain the delicate balance between the traditional and the progressive and instead must seek refuge in a discourse between the two camps. Graff properly argues that the politicization of the curriculum debate is not only unavoidable but also in keeping with the purposes of education, for, at its best, political, conflict is fought as a battle of ideas, arguments, and principles (p. 145).

Graff suggests that it is better for students to critically examine something "popular" in its origins (such as reading Vanna Speaks for its perpetuation of the capitalist ethos) than it is to simply assign canonical works which students might not read such as Marx's Das Kapital (p. 100). Although many might find his example extreme, it does clearly illustrate Graff's [End Page 224] essential point: that academic discussions of culture and politics need not be devoid of relevance to daily life.

Underlying much of Bromwich's examination of liberal learning and higher education is his criticism of most contemporary literary education. Bromwich stresses the distinction between "liberal learning" which educates an individual student to a sense of something beyond himself or herself and "professional training" which teaches students basic cognitive and technical skills so that they can provide services to a corporate society. In reading Bromwich's discussion of "liberal learning" and emphasis upon the individual, one might rightfully wonder, how then are universities to "liberally educate" the individual? What course of study, classes, or method of inquiry should shape this education? Borrowing from Michael Oakeshott, Bromwich differs significantly from Graff and characterizes education as "an adventure in the precise sense" with no set course or pattern (p. 51). Thus, Bromwich defends his lack of a detailed prescription for curricular reform.

In Bromwich's view, the great canon debate trivializes and underestimates the role of higher education. He properly asserts that inclusion or exclusion from a particular course syllabus is not the only measure of a work's merit. Additionally, he finds troubling the extent to which "debate over curriculum has become the accidental focus in which a good many tensions of American society are dramatized" (p. 47)

Though not speaking directly to concepts of curricular development, Bromwich makes a strong case for a vision of education based on the classically liberal idea of tradition. Building upon an artful discussion and examination of Edmund Burke's Reflections upon the Revolution in France, he sees tradition as a reforming force which allows for gradual change and examines the continuity between past and present, as well as present and future. Bromwich believes that most universities have discarded this classic idea of tradition and begun to focus primarily on short-term gains. Bromwich argues, though without any specific program of reform, for a return to individual inquiry as opposed to group socialization and the pursuit of practical and useful knowledge.

Bromwich concludes his argument by stating that, guided by this reforming view of tradition, "the interpretive and imaginative part of education is a learned art, it is a moral habit and [it] leads to people who can think" (p. 233). In Bromwich's view, people who can think "carry an extra weight of hope," participate actively in the substantive political and social discourse of their world, and help a society take its options to the higher level. Bromwich thus rests his argument on the concept of educating a citizenry. He acknowledges that he is calling for universities to fight against what he calls "the unreal politics" of those both inside and outside of the academy.

Developing the details of any program of curricular reform based upon [End Page 225] what Bromwich suggests would be difficult and possibly counterproductive as he does not believe in the appropriateness of an academic "map." Nevertheless, he so artfully, intelligently, and convincingly crafts his arguments that one can thoroughly sympathize with his desire for urgent reform. One, however, might be unclear, as even Bromwich could be, about the full and specific curricular implications of the argument he makes.

Conclusion: Conceptualizing Critiques

Though extensively examining both the course of study and the domain beyond it, Graff and Bromwich do not offer substantive suggestions or policy implications. It is not necessarily fair to find fault with them on this account. Neither claims to present anything other than a detailed critique with occasional suggestions. Bromwich, in some ways, rationalizes his lack of programmatic specifics by citing Oakeshott's depiction of education as "an adventure" (p. 51). This characterization of scholarship as exploration rings true. However, every adventure needs a base from which to begin and a sense of what the journey's direction will be. Graff attempts to provide them through his suggestion about teaching the conflicts. Though Bromwich's skepticism about Graff's course of action is justified, Bromwich himself comes dangerously close to practicing the isolation for which he criticizes other members of the higher education community. Bromwich's desire to stay above the current curricular fray is both admirably and thoughtfully articulated in his work. However, at the same time, simply asking the reader to have faith in his conception of liberal learning without discussing its alternative applications detracts somewhat from his thesis.

Those who desire detailed consideration of curricular programs and initiatives will find Graff's and Bromwich's discussion frustratingly void of specificity. However, those members of the academy and policy-makers who wish to inform their own curricular initiatives with a thoughtful discussion of the philosophical and historical issues both within and beyond the university would do well to familiarize themselves with Graff's and Bromwich's works. For, though Graff's perspective borders on oversimplification and Bromwich's perspective tends towards detached abstraction, their works provide refreshing perspectives from which to examine the nature and purpose of the university's curriculum.

Mark R. Nemec is a doctoral candidate in political science at the University of Michigan. He also holds an M.A. in education (higher education) from the same institution. His primary research interest is the relationship between ideas and institutions in politics, specifically the role of universities in American political development.

Notes

1. Stanley Fish of Duke University and Barbara Herrnstein Smith of the Modern Language Association are two of the more prominent and visible proponents of these methods considered by both Graff and Bromwich.

2. In this sentiment Bromwich echoes and, in fact, acknowledges the work of Bloom (1987).

References

Bennett, W. J. (1984). To reclaim a legacy: A report on the humanities in higher education. Washington, DC: National Endowment for the Humanities.

Bloom, A. (1987). The closing of the American mind. New York: Simon and Schuster.

Cheney, L. (1989). 50 hours: A core curriculum for college students. Washington, DC: National Endowment for the Humanities.

D'Sousza, D. (1991). Illiberal education: The politics of race and sex on campus. New York: Free Press.

Horowitz, H. L. (1986). Campus life: Undergraduate cultures from the end of the eighteenth century to the present. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

Rosovsky, H. (1990). The university: An owner's manual. New York: W. W. Norton & Co.

Rudolph, F. (1993). Curriculum: A history of the undergraduate curriculum since 1636. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass.

Smith, B. H. (1988). Contingencies of value: Alternative perspectives for critical theory. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Veysey, L. (1965). The emergence of the American university. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

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