44/CHRONICLESnabout their students, there are alsonmany others who teach only for thenmoney. More than once I found thatnfaculty members took an interest in menonly if they could use me or my worknfor their own interests or publishingnefforts. It was understood when I camento B.U. that I was engaged in majornstudy of special interest groups involvednin thwarting U.S. intelligence activitiesnand defense policies. Compared withnmost Ph.D. studies, my work had practicalnvalue, especially in the context ofnongoing problems in Central America,nthe Middle East, and in East-Westnrelations.nAs it turned out, when I completednmy academic courses, I could not find ansponsor for my dissertation, although Inhad adequate faculty support to putntogether a dissertation committee. Mynacademic advisor, a leading neoconservativensociologist, was unwillingnto be a sponsor, although he privatelynacknowledged the importance of mynwork. I turned to another professor innmy department who had written a booknon a closely related subject. Althoughnhe too favored my work, he deferrednany sponsorship. The reasons givennwere basically twofold: it was unconventionalnfor a student to get academicncredit for work that would also benpublished as a book, and it was unconventionalnfor a student to proceed on anproject without adequate faculty supervisionnor guidance.nThere was some truth to the latter,nbut it was not for lack of wanting ornseeking criticism and assistance from thenfaculty. Ironically, the faculty membersnwho objected on this ground were thenvery ones who had always been too busynwith their work, travels, and conferencesnto have time to read or evaluate myndissertation. The most disconcertingnpart of the whole experience was mynuncertainty about whether anyone reallynwanted me to succeed. I wrote anpersonal letter to the university presidentnand to the provost, asking why thenuniversity could not find merit in anstudent who fulfilled the dissertationnrequirements and succeeded in publishingna book at the same time. I arguednthat the main criteria for a dissertationnshould be the subject matter and thenoriginality of the work. I was confidentnthat my dissertation met both of these.nMonths passed, and I was still receivingnmixed signals from the powers thatnbe. Finally, I decided to abandon thenattempt to secure academic credit fornmy 700-page study (a project that I hadnspent three years on). I realized thatneveryone would be much happier if Inwrote a dissertation on some irrelevantnacademic subject about which no onenwas likely to object.nI decided to write a whole newndissertation about a more mundanensubject: entrepreneurship. I was confidentnthat this would be “safe,” havingnrelatively few political overtones. As farnback as to Adam Smith, economists hadnmostly ignored the role and importancenof entrepreneurial input. For Smith, theninvisible hand was a self-regulatingnmechanism independent of the economicnleadership of the entrepreneur.nThe two major sources of literature onnthe subject came from the Austrian andnsupply-side schools of economics.nMy dissertation committee includednmy advisor, a sociologist, a politicalnscientist, and a renowned developmentalneconomist—one of those B.U. professorsnwooed away from Harvard with anfat salary offering. At first I couldn’tnunderstand why the economist keptncoming up with a host of problemsnconcerning my work. My argumentsnand empirical evidence supported thenthesis that the entrepreneur providednthe mainspring of economic progress.nHe objected to my favorable assessmentnof supply-side economics and recommendednthat I delete references to itnwhen I revised my work. “There arenmany economists who believe thatnsupply-side economics has been a dismalnfailure,” he told me, obviouslyncounting himself among them. (It wasnthe fifth year of an economic expansionnthat had witnessed the creation of somen14 million new jobs in the UnitednStates.)nThe other professors on my dissertationncommittee assured me that politicalnbias was not at issue and that I hadnbetter pursue the course of least resistance,ndeliver what the economist wanted,nand be done with it. Above all, I wasncounseled not to do anything thatnwould cause more problems for him. Itnwas becoming increasingly clear thatnthe root of his objections to my worknwas my libertarian philosophy. He had,nafter all, built his entire career by championingnstate intervention, regulation,nand planning. No graduate student wasngoing to challenge the basic New Deal-nnnKey nesian faith without paying a price.n”Maybe you could play more to yournstrengths — the noneconomic aspectsn—and attempt less in the economicnrealm,” he wrote at one point in hisnevaluation of my dissertation. My advisornand committee chairman took ancautious but concurring position. “Nonreasonable person today believes innstrict laissez faire,” he noted, dismissingnthe value and legitimacy of libertarianneconomics.nI’ll never forget those last all-nightersnneeded to finish the revisions on thendissertation. In the end it was only theneconomist that held out on signing thenapproval for my graduation. When Indrove up to his house to drop off thenfinal dissertation corrections on the evenof graduation, I wasn’t surprised to findnbumper stickers for left-wing Massachusettsnpolitical candidates on the twonVolvos in his driveway.nBoston University has often beennapplauded for having reestablished highnstandards after liberal educational policiesnbrought it to the brink of ruin in thenearly 1970’s. But like most universities,nB.U. is finding it difficult to achievenexcellence because it runs contrary tonthe leveling goals of liberalism itselfnMoreover, the task has only becomenmore difficult in the 1980’s becausenliberalism has been transformed by prejudicesnand militant ideologies of thenleft.nCourage and honesty are needed tonadmit that liberal arts education at B.U.nand at most other universities is largelynfailing in its two most basic tasks—first,nto foster an appreciation of the valuesnand institutions that have expanded libertynand opportunity, and second, tonclarify the responsibilities of citizenship.nThere are no easy solutions or quicknfixes to the sorry state of higher education.nConcerned faculty with tenurencan certainly afford to take a clear standnand challenge the ruling ethos andnnorms of the educational establishmentnitself And if entrenched faculty majoritiesnare reluctant to change, it might bengood to encourage the younger generationnof students to shake things up a bit.nIn that case, sponsoring a student involvednin controversial research andnwriting might even be viewed as annopportunity, rather than a liability.nS. Steven Powell is the author of CovertnCadre (Green Hill Publishers).n