Seventy-Fifth Year
EwrrxD AND MANAGED BY STUDENTS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
UNDER AUTHORITY OF BOARD IN CONTROL OF STUDENT PUBLICATIONS

MEANING OF THE PRESENT .. .

A Ialf-Cent urj

as Are Free; 420 MAYNARD ST., ANN ARBOR, MICH.
I Prevail

NEwS PHONE: 7640552

Editorials printed in The Michigan Daily, express the individual opinions of staff writers
or the editors. This must be noted in all reprints.
TUESDAY, 23 FEBRUARY 1965 NIGHT EDITOR: MICHAEL JULIAR
ovem ent of te .Poor:
Creating Liveabable Communitles

By ROBERT C. ANGELL
THE MEANING of the present
is alawys best understood
against the backdrop of the past.
It may help the contemporary
crop of students if I discuss how
life on this campus has evolved
in the past half-century. I came
here as a freshman in 1917 and,
except for two wars and one-
year appointments at Columbia
and UNESCO, have been here ever
since.
On the academic side, matters
have not changed greatly. The
number of students has tripled but
the arrangements for instruction
are much the same. A 1920 Rip

as it and the Undergraduate Li-
brary together are today.
I should say that faculty-stu-
dent relations in those days werc
more leisurely but more formal.
Our offices were larger and mor
conducive to pleasant conversa-
tion; there was greater likelihooc'
that one would have the same
professor in more than one course
and there was more entertaining
of students by faculty. Hence you
might know at least one faculty
member quite well. On the other
hand there was more deference
than now. Though intimacy be-
tween faculty and students is rare
today because faculty members are

EDh1OR'S NOTE: This is the second of two
editorials exploring some of the implications of
automtion upon poverty.'
AiERICA'S GALLOPING, stride toward
automation is already creating tech-
nological unemployment and posing tre-
mendous challenges to programs of man-
power retraining. With machine and com-
puter, it is eating away at the labor force
in factories, shops and many white-collar
establishments. But the disaster-poten-
tial in this trend is balanced by its equiv-
alent potential for finally freeing men
from two of the most undesirable conse-
quences of modern economic life:
1) The need to labor at economically
productive but humanly unfulfilling
(non-creative) tasks in order to produce;
2) The dependence of at least half the
economy on artificially-created demand
to ensure that consumption keeps pace
with production and to ensure that
enough people can find employment.
If the proper social groundwork is
laid for automation, as physical needs
are satisfied men will be able to devote
themselves ,to truly 'human ends-art,
the professions (including management
and planning),, learning and teaching,
inventing, small- and large-scale crafts-
manship, involvement in community
projects, family-raising. And if people be-
gin to realize and pursue the worthwhile
possibilities for their lives, it will be
harder and harder for advertising and
public relations to generate synthetic
consumption.
BUT DESPITE THE FACT that current
technological trends point to poten-
tially unprecedented abundance in gen-
eral, large sectors of the population are
still nowhere near the point where they
will be able to make any use of the fu-
ture's freedom. In any case, these sec-
tors are unwilling to wait for the millen-
ium.
The poor in America-over one-fifth
of the nation-are . gaining both a new
consciousness of their intolerable con-
dition and the attention of the rest of
the country. Yet the wars on poverty
which are being launched in hundreds of
cities this year to alleviate their condi-
tion. are dangerously short-sighted.
The basis of their attack-retraining
for the factory and clerking positions
which are destined to disappear in the
face of automation-both impedes auto-
mation and breeds more people who will
be unable to cope with automation when
it finally comes. These wars on poverty
thus ignore and subvert social changes.
Yet changes will have. to be made if
mechanization is not to leave millions
to economic poverty or to leisure made
useless by preoccupation with synthetic
and thus unsatisfying activities.
IN THE SLUM GHETTOES of northern
cities the two problems-of prepar-
ing for a liveable future and of construct-
ing a more liveable present for the poor-
merge. In this union-in the need of the
poor for betterment; in the isolation of
the poor from most of the values, inter-
ests and institutions on which present
society is founded; in the potential of
the poor for accomplishing their im-
H. NEIL BERKSON. Editor
KENNETH WINTER EDWARD HERSTEIN
Managing Editor Editorial Director
ANN GWIRTZMAN..........PeTsonnel Director
BILL BULLARD........ ...... .. Sports Editor
MICA ELNSATTINGER .. Associate Managing Editor
JOIN KENNY.......Assistant Managing Editor
DEBORAH BEATTIE Associate Editorial Director
LOUISE LIND....... Assistant Editorial Director in
Charge of the Magazine

TOM ROWLAND ...... ssociate Sports Editor
GARY WYNER..... ...Associate Sports Editor
STEVEN HALLER Contributing Editor
MARY LOU BUTCHER ...Contributing Editor
JAMES KESON Chief Pho'tographer
NIGHT EDITORS: Lauren Bahr, David Block, John
Bryant, Jeffrey Goodman, Robert Hippler, Robert
Johnston, Michael Juliar, Laurence Kirshbaum,
Leonard Pratt.
ASSISTANT NIGHT EDITORS: William Benoit, Bruce
Bigelow, Gail Blumberg. Michael Dean, John Mere-
dith, Barbara Seyfried, Judith Warren.
Business Staff
JONATHON R. WHITE, Business Manager
SYDNEY PAUKER.........Advertising -Manager
JUDITH GOLDSTEIN ....... Finance Manager
BARBARA JOHNSTON .. Personnel Manager
JAY GAMPEL-.... . Associate Business Manager
MANAGERS: Susan Crawford, Joyce Feinberg, Judith
Fields. Alan Glueckman, Judith Grohne, Judith

provement in a number of different ways
and'thus for innovating socially; in the
deepening commitment of governments
to the poor-in this union and these
conditions can be found the answer to
the search of those who would change
society: the basis for a social movement.
The primary focus of this movement
must be assumption by the poor of the
responsibility for their own uplifting.
Through organization sparked by dedi-
cated (and non-paternalistic) radicals,
semi-autonomous communities must be
formed which unite naturally the spirits
and the energies of men.
The immediate basis for organizing will
be common protest against the often re-
strictive, often arbitrary administration
of welfare by which conformity to pre-
conceived notions of proper behavior be-
comes necessary for survival (people en-
gaged in such protest are, for instance,
more than likely to be denied this wel-
fare). More basically, the objectives of
organization will be the creation, through
the process of organizing itself, of both
the sense and reality of community.
The sense of community, of cooperat-
ing importantly in a worthwhile endeav-
or, not only makes the individual feel he
is part of a meaningful social unit - a
feeling at least the poor white does not
have-but also generates self-respect and
the ability to think in terms of what one
would like to do with one's life. The
reality of community, on the other hand,
is most exciting for the political accom-
plishments it makes possible.
WHILE SOME of the efforts of the com-
munity will be directed at pressuring
local and federal powers to make the
kinds of improvements to which they
have committed or promised to commit
their tax revenues, most of the effort
will go into self-help. Here the com-
munity begins putting its collective mus-
cle to cleaning its streets, rehabilitating
its homes and stores, beautifying its play-
grounds. The creative intellectual talents
which the new community releases can
go toward designing new kinds of schools
which teach a man how to live instead
of how to adapt to middle class society or
how to perform uninteresting tasks, to-
ward better political representation, to-
ward gaining a voice in how public in-
vestments (especially in fighting poverty)
are handled, toward creating a meaning-
ful culture, toward developing small craft
industries with which to trade.
Until there are enough of these com-
munities tied together by broad ideologi-
cal objectives, the financial problems of
how to survive and reconstruct will be
staggering. But the new spirit of the in-
dividuals in these neighborhoods will per-
haps be sufficient compensation. In any
case, the alternative-utter dependence
on the capricious benevolence of mis-
directed federal and municipal programs
-is no better.
Moreover, it is essential to remember
that the efforts of these communities
have tremendous long-range significance.
For only in communities where men be-
gin forming a satisfying life for them-
selves will there be born the kinds of
men who can make something of their
energies in a future of economic abund-
ance, in a future where "work" need no
longer imply the smothering of spirit.
INDEED, just such a social movement
has already begun in a few nothern
slums-and with a good deal of success.
Under the auspices of Students for a
Democratic Society, the Economic Re-
search and Action Project is finding the
poor eager and able to create true com-

munities, to challenge existing struc-
tures, to plant the seeds of change.
ERAP is no social-work agency; backed
by a broad, radical ideology, it is the be-
ginning of a new society.
-JEFFREY'GOODMAN
By George
MICHIGAN'S CONSTITUTION s a y s,
"Each board (of regents) shall have
"a..r.n Q1"rvinnf i4fz. n 4. 4.ct.f ' an nand

PROF. ROBERT C. ANGELL of the sociol-
ogy department was chairman of that
department from 1940 to 1952. He is cur-
rently the director of the Center for Re-
search on Conflict Resolution and a mem-
ber of the University's Sesquicentennial
committee. He is the author of several
books including "The Campus" (1928) and
"Free Society and Moral Crisis" (1958). He
received the Faculty Award for Distin-
guished Achievement in 1958.

o RUni
has had something to do with
the greater prestige of academic
achievement today, but I believe
the chief causes are the higher
standards of admission and th'
severer competition for entrance
into graduate and professiona'
schools.
The intellectual curiosity of stu.
dents, it seems to me, has its ups
and downs. Relatively low in the
twenties, it rose because of the
country's critical problems in thf
thirties, remained very high dur-
ing the veterans' bulge after World
War II, declined with prosperity
and political apathy in the early
fifties, and has improved sharply
since the first Sputnik shocked u,
out of our complacency.
The housing arrangements of
students have showed marked
change. Martha Cook, Helen New-
berry and Betsy Barbour were the
only dormitories here during unv
student days. The fraternities and
sororities were about the same
in number (though smaller), but
they housed a much larger per-
centage of the student body. The
unaffiliated male students lived
in rooming houses that were most-
ly within four or five blocks of
the central campus. The "league
houses" - supervised rooming
houses for women-were in the
same area. Very few students had
to walk more than ten minutes to
class.
* * *
BECAUSE THEY were well or-
ganized and the "independents"
were not, the fraternity and soror-
ity members dominated the lift
of the campus, including studeni
activities. My senior year on The
Daily staff I think all but one or
two of the upperclassmen were
affiliated. Moreover, the frater-
nity boys and sorority girls tend-
ed to be the models copied by the

0veriy Change
... BACKDROP, OF THE PAST

rest. There was, hence, more ho-
mogeneity in the student bod"'
than today. I remember no well
recognized protest group like th
beatniks. There was much less po-
litical awareness, at least after th
end of World War I. Harding's
"normalcy" spelled student indif
ference. In my own case, the only
participation that I can remember
is heading a campus drive to aid
the Chinese who were suffering
from a severe famine.
I have the impression that the
building of the great men's and
women's dormitories in the last
three decades has both democra-
tized and bureaucratized campus
life. The "independents" no long-
er feel so unprivileged, and quite
a few students are uninterested''
in rushing. On the other hand,
a large proportion of the under-
classmen live in a highly organized
way. It is perhaps harder today
for an off-beat freshman to es-
cape the pressures of his other-
directed peers. No doubt some of
the beatnik rebellion is against
campus conformity as well a'
against the shortcomings of the
larger society. It will be interest-
ing to watch how the growing
movement of students into apart
ments will affect the character of
campus life. ti
ONE OF THE hardest things
to describe is the change in rela-
tion to intercollegiate athletics.
Perhaps the best way to put it is
to say that the athletes have be-
come a more differentiated group.
For one thing, there was no pro-
gram in physical education in
those days. Fbr another, the bas-
ketball games attracted only stu-
dents and the football games only
students and alumni. The general
public was little involved, so that
intercollegiate athletics were a
ztiatter for the "University fam-
ily." The athletes were boys in
your classes who were playing
against Ohio State; they were not

age in college would have seemed
very strange. And it would have
been resented more than it is now
by the good students not able to
get scholarships. I get the impres-
sion that many of the latter feel
that the athlete performs a func-
tion of providing cohesion to the
large student body that deserves
payment in cash. We appreciated
this function in my day, too, but
did not think it needed more than
the reward of prestige. There is i
University All-American football
player living near who does not
attend the games any more be-
cause, as he says, "I'm not in-
terested in watching profession-
als."
* * *
PERHAPS the greatest change
of all is the growth in orga-
nized research in the University.
Faculty members did their re-
search 45 years ago in the teach-
ing laboratory, in the library, or,
if botanists, zoologists or geolog-
ists, in the field. They worked
alone for the most part. There
were no great research centers
like the Willow Run laboratories
or the Institute for Social Re-
search. It is true that these cen-
ters directly affect only graduate
students today, but indirectly they
affect the climate in which all
students work. In the first place,
they have razed the ivory tower;
academia is no longer a world
apart. Again, they make students
aware of the magnitude of the
knowledge-seeking thrust in our
society.
One consequence of the Great
Depression was that the automat-
ic financing of the University's
budget from a fixed proportion of
the state's tax on real estate came
to an end. This forced the presi-
dent of the University to go be-
fore the, Legislature to seek ap-
propriations, a process that, as in
the case of intercollegiate ath-
letics, runs the danger of expos-
ing the standards of academic pro-

Van Winkle could wake up and
go to classes today without diffi-
culty. There were lectures, recita-
tion sections, and laboratory sec-
tions then as now. Objective ex-
aminations had not yet come in
there was less reliance on teach-
ing fellows, and the curriculum
was not so diversified. Paper-
backs were unknown, and there
was therefore 'greater reliance on
textbooks. The General Library
was built at the end of World War
I, however, and it was as ade-
quate for the student body the.

so engrossed in research, it is eas-
ier and more egalitarian when i
occurs.
* * *
ONE VERY noticeable change
is the increased academic com-
petitiveness of students today.
The "gentleman's C" was much in
vogue in 1920 among the playboy
element. Drinking is still very
much with us, but somehow I
doubt that it is as much a means
to status as it was soon after
Prohibition came in. Perhaps the
introduction of Honors programs

1 it ! l,. i.'. .. ''" t s "
t s'"5f
tt ~y t s }.', 0I' AAAt '.It..
T..., 6Ir L R y~l 7 f3 r.Lf. s5j ' .~; f r

'r~... . .r ... .... . S . . . . . . .. . . . . i ......hJ...' .....:r.tWYh"t' .~,,1.,t ..';A7

iS
:
ti S{
'i11'l
}f:
7'?
'Y
ry.1}'.'.
f4.'.
Si
4
1!{
fti
Ar'f
t r{
S
1{1
1' r
L"

ROBERT ANGELL will forever be enshrined in the Student
Publications Bldg. His name, ilong with Thomas Dewey and
58 others, appears on the memorable 1920 petition, still adorning
a wall in the senior editorial office. It reads as follows:
January 29, 1920
TO: The Board in Control of Student Publications
WHEREAS, we, the undersigned, believe that certain re-
strictions established by the Board in Control of Student Publica-
tions are tending to lessen the esprit de corps among members of
the different publications staffs, and
WHEREAS, we believe that it is this spirit of camaraderie
which has brought Michigan's student publications to the promi-
nent position they now occupy, and
WHEREAS, the rule prohibiting smoking in the publications
office is working considerable hardship upon nine-tenths of the
men working there, and
WHEREAS, we believe men who use tobacco find it a great {
aid in their work, especially if that work is of a creative nature,
and
WHEREAS, we know of no other newspaper, metropolitan or
collegiate, which prohibits smoking in its offices,
We, the undersigned, do hereby petition the Board in Control
of Student Publications to rescind the anti-smoking rule, or, if
complete abolition of the ruling could not be considered by the r
Board, that the regulation be amended to allow smoking in the r
publication offices after the departure of Miss Allen.

so much a specialized group of
experts who represented the Uni-
versity in a public arena.
I don't mean to imply that there
was no recruiting of athletes.
There was. And occasionally alum-
ni got so excited about; a high
school athlete that they helped
him through college. But there
was no approved subsidization
plan as now, and so far as I
know the athletes who worked
their way through college, and
many did, earned what they made.
Certainly the notion that we
should officially subsidize athletes
who were only making a C aver-

BUDAPEST STRING QUARTET:
Standing Ovations Salute Concert Series

fessionals to pressures from less
informed public opinion.
* *.
WHAT DOES IT all mean?
Where does the University stand
in the contemporary scene? Look-
ing back at the changes I have
recounted,.I believe we can make
three points:
'.1) What the University can fur.
nish is more in demand than ever
before. There are more profession-
al and highly technical tasks to
be performed than ever, and uni-
versities are the institutions best
qualified to train the personnel
for them.
2) The University is becoming
increasingly bureaucratized. This
is in part because of the increases
in enrollment, but it is also be-
cause of the increasing speciali-
zation of knowledge with the at-
tendantrnecessity of having more
differentiated programs.
3) The University is more close-
ly linked with the outside world
than formerly because ease of
movement has made it possible
for faculty members to become
consultants to industry and gov-
ernment, and because there is in-
creased demand for their research.
This has. the advantage of in-
creasing the relevance of what the
University does but the disadvan-
tage of subtle inroads on its au-
tonomy.
NEXT WEEK: Donald Hall.
LETTERS:
Relgio

Saturday
THE BUDAPEST QUARTET brought Ann Arbor yet another standing
ovation Saturday night at Rackham Auditorium.
The fourth in the series of five Beethoven concerts featured the
quartets Op. 18 No. 5, Op. 74, and Op. 130 (with the "Grosse Fuge").
As usual, the performances were consistently excellent, but it was
the especially exciting presentation of the "Grosse Fuge" which brought
the sellout crowd to its feet.
What the Budapest conveys so well is the tremendous range of
texture and timbral contrast Beethoven was able to extract from
four closely related instruments. Even in the earliest quartets, this
variety is evident. Particularly in Op. 18 No. 5 one can almost visualize
Beethoven delightedly developing one ingenious stroke after another in
the sketchbooks.
* * * *
THE INTEREST in sound as sound reaches an unusual stage in
the "Grosse Fuge." The music seems to strain the limits of the instru-
ment, to grope for the limits of audibility within the framework of
four string instruments. This is the feeling one gets on a symphonic
level only at the end of the century.
It is rewarding to hear the great fuge at the end of the Op. 130
instead of the last movement which Beethoven-and quartets in the
past-substituted because of the fugue's complexity and length. The

deserved standing ovation.
The Op. 18, No. 16, "Quartet in B-flat Major" is a curious work
containing a clear dichotomy. On the one hand the aristocratic tradi-
tion of Haydn is represented probably most clearly by the "Adagio."
The Budapest pointed up beautifully the formality of regular period
design and crystal clear part writing. In addition, they brought a
sweetness and delicacy that enhanced the aura of refinement. Joseph
Roisman's exquisite portamenti heightened the delectability of the
movement without becoming a clich4d mannerism.
"The Melanconia" is a foreboding juxtaposition of style and content.
The ensemble outlined excellently the unstable tonal progressions and
the stark use of diminished seventh chords. The important cello part
was played by Misch Schneider with the ,utmost musical insight and
sensitivity.
* * * *
"THE MENUETTO" of Op. 59, No. 3 in C Major displayed the
sheer technical mastery of the ensemble as a scale was passed flawlessly
between the first violin and cello, But this technique never overshadows
the consistently high musicality of the Budapest, as it does with some
other quartets, but rather it is used solely as a vehicle for elucidating
the music.
The Op. 131 "Quartet in C sharp Minor" was the penultimate
quartet written by Beethoven and was published in 1827 a month after
his death. The first section is a profound fugue. In many ways it is

To the Editor:

/

QATURDAY morning I was apal-
led by the use of God's name
in vain in one of the cheers in
the cheering contest.
Saturday afternoon at the