ologists often view social problemsrnthrough an ideological prism. RutgersrnUniversity sociologist Irving Louis Horowitzrnargues that sociologists promoternoutdated and questionable theories ofrncrime. A once promising academic discipline,rnthe demise of sociology exemplifiesrnthe toll of political correctness.rnMost social critics will never recognizernthe value of behavior genetic research forrnthe simple reason that it challenges therndeeply held egalitarian beliefs of socialrnscientists. When scholars begin to claimrnthat too much is made over the “validityrnof research data” rather than “realrnissues,” scientific research becomesrnhostage to the political agendas of socialrnactivists. By opposing a legitimate fieldrnof scientific study, ideologically drivenrnscholars undermine not only their ownrnwork but the credibility of the behavioralrnsciences as well.rnThe message this sends is that, whenrnit comes to examining socially sensitivernissues, ignorance is better than knowledge.rnSuch a narrow-minded viewrnshould concern anyone who values accuracyrnand academic integrity in the pursuitrnof scientific research.rnKevin Lamb is an assistant librarian forrnNewsweek.rnTHEATERrnOne Flea Spare &rnOther New Playsrnby Katherine DaltonrnActors Theatre of Louisville startedrnits new play festival 20 years ago—rnthat’s a long life in the American theater,rnand the Humana Festival of New AmericanrnPlays achieved institution status severalrnseasons back. Unfortunately, thernfestival is now a little like a fully endowedrncongregation that no longer has to lookrnto itself to underwrite its annual operatingrnbudget. The altar flowers are beautiful,rnbut the spirit is wanting.rnThere were two good full-length playsrnthis year and some entertaining shorts,rnand ATL deserves credit for regularlyrnproducing new work. Most theaters cannot,rnor think they cannot, afford to. Butrnthere is more good work out there thanrnATL is finding, and I am convinced a festivalrnthat has been so-so in recent yearsrncould be so much better. Part of thernproblem may be in the way the festival isrnorganized. ATL’s practice now is torncommission plays from established (or atrnleast working) playwrights, and wellknownrnjournalists or novelists. Thatrnsounds like a good idea, and sometimesrnworks, but more often it does not. Thisrnyear, for example, the biggest namesrnwrote the shortest plays, some of themrnnice but sketches at best. Also this year,rnas has happened before, one of the bestrnplays (One Flea Spare) was originallyrnproduced elsewhere, which means ATLrncannot take the credit for fostering it.rnEvery season I wish once again thatrnATL would return to its original practicernof holding an open contest—keepingrnsome commissions, but spending somernof the Humana grant to hire a legion ofrnpart-time readers to cull the large numberrnof plays the theater would surely receive.rnI am convinced that out of thisrngargantuan slush pile would come arnmuch stronger festival. Plus ATL wouldrnonce again discover new playwrights—rnsomething the theater cannot reallyrnclaim anymore, despite all its good work,rnits well-earned prestige, and all the hoursrnand sweat its staff put into producing arndozen plays at once.rnOne of the best pieces this year was byrnProspect, Kentucky, native Naomi Wallace.rnI wish it had not taken several Londonrnproductions for anyone in the Statesrnto take interest in her work, but neverrnmind. One Flea Spare is set in Englandrnin 1665 during the plague. A child and arnseaman break into a wealthy merchantrncouple’s house, forcing them all to liverntogether for a month under quarantine.rnThe husband patronizes the sailor andrnputs him to work, scrubbing the boardsrnwith vinegar against infection, while thernwife (played by the excellent PeggyrnCowles) falls in love with him. The feyrnchild, a servant girl masquerading as herrndead master’s dead daughter, focuses onrnsurviving.rnIt is an ugly, sexual story about classrnand death, with a young actor playing (tornmy discomfort) a child that knows toornmuch too early. But the play is redeemedrnby Ms. Wallace’s skill. She is arnpowerful writer with beautiful if sometimesrnterrifying imagery, who has writtenrna good play with One Flea Spare andrnmay someday write a great one.rnThe festival’s other full-length successrnwas by Joan Ackermann, a former SportsrnIllustrated writer who is now co-artisticrndirector of the Mixed Company theaterrnin Great Barrington, Massachusetts. ThernBatting Cage concerns sisters Juliannarnand Wilson, who have come to St. Augustinernto spread the ashes of their thirdrnsister, and to grieve in their very differentrnways. Ackermann has a reporter’s eye forrnridiculous detail and has a good trackrnrecord of quirky comedies (includingrnZara Spook and Other Lures, set at a bassrn’n’ gal tournament). Llnlike too manyrncomic writers, Ackermann is funny, andrnthis play transcends her usual hilarityrnwith a poignancy and seriousness that isrnvery nicely done. Veanne Cox was particularlyrngood as the shopaholic divorceernJulianna, and so was ATL apprenticernJustin Hagan, as the hotel room-servicernwaiter (with a barnacle growing in hisrnear) who befriends her.rnOf the shorter pieces, the best includedrnWhat I Meant Was, by Prelude to arnKiss author Craig Lucas. This play is arnThanksgiving dinner fantasy conversationrnin which each member of a dysfunctionalrnfamily actually says what hernthinks. John Patrick Shanley (best knownrnfor his screenplays Moonstruck and joernVersus the Volcano) had two one-actsrnabout love and relationships that werernslight, but which showed his nice ear forrnconversation.rnThere were also two plays I could respectrnif not like: Jack and Jill by thernpseudonymous Jane Martin (who isrnprobably ATL producing director JonrnJory and/or friends and relatives), andrnan Anne Bogart-and-company createdrnpiece called Going, Going, Gone. Martin’srnplay traces a very modern couple’srntroubled relationship over time, andrnwhile the piece is well constructed andrnwas skillfully set in ATL’s round BinghamrnTheater, it is maddening to watch.rnThe two characters are so annoying thatrnit’s impossible to care what happens tornthem.rnGoing, Going, Gone is not a play, butrna created piece using various “texts” onrnquantum physics. Anne Bogart, codirectorrnof the Saratoga InternationalrnTheater Institute, has directed some ofrnmy favorite and least favorite theaterrnpieces—among the former the ATL productionrnof Elmer Rice’s The Adding Machine,rnwhich was superb.rnMs. Bogart demands that her actorsrnlearn great physical control, and thatrntheir body language always convey some-rn46/CHRONICLESrnrnrn