Valedictory Address

Delivered by Dalton Camp

Your Honor, Mr. Chancellor, Mr. President, Fellow Classmates and friends:

I should indeed be remiss in my duties were I not to address His Lordship, the Right Honorable Lord Beaverbrook, on behalf of the graduating class, and to welcome him as our Chancellor. No one of us could say well enough how proud we are that you have assumed this post. The pleasurable task has fallen to me to express the deep admiration and warm affection which the graduating class, one and all, hold for you.

On this happy day, we take this opportunity to welcome you again on your return to your native province, and to the institution which bears its name. We are fully aware that this University, in the long years of its history, has had no greater friend nor champion. We know that this day signals for all of us the continued vitality of the university’s contribution to this province, its citizens, and to this land of ours.

Again, I am sure the graduating class would wish me to welcome the alumni and alumnae who have returned on this memorable occasion. Your example of devotion and allegiance, your enthusiasm which has been so apparent, is an inspiration to the class of ’47, so that, on this day, we can do no less than pledge our continued and eager interest by maintaining an active association as members of your distinguished ranks.

One more word on behalf of my classmates and myself. On another occasion, we expressed as well as we could our gratitude to the members of the faculty. There is another association we shall always cherish. In this trying year, no one has contributed more of his energy to our cause. By his example of devotion to this university, by his courageous leadership, and his sympathetic understanding of our problems, he has captured the spirit of these times. We pray for his continued strength, so that the students of UNB may continue to find inspiration by his vigorous example. I refer, of course, to Dr. Milton F. Gregg.

Although I am sure the preceding words could be represented as the unanimous voice of the graduating class, I am not at all sure I should seek to extend that privilege. One learns quite early in life, or at least one should, the extreme hazard of voicing an opinion on behalf of others. And so, I am afraid I must strike out alone, but with the hope that the valedictorian’s words, if not endorsed by my classmates, might at least bear an occasional resemblance to their feelings.

When the graduating class wake from their slumbers tomorrow morning, or perhaps later in the day, we shall find ourselves in a world from which we are temporarily estranged. For a while at least, our participation in search of our own destiny will be in a state of suspension. Perhaps all of us shall feel a temporary loneliness, engendered by the realization that the pleasant years of university life are immediately behind us. A realization that the future holds a kind of uncertainty the like of which the world has never known.

That, I suppose, is a dramatic statement. If not, then it might be considered a cliché of all valedictorians. But let me attempt to amplify this observation.

To begin with, our life here has been perhaps as free an existence as we can ever hope to enjoy. We have been free to sample the great philosophies; we have been free to experiment with our own; we have been free to make the most glaring errors of judgment. And we have been free enough to enjoy leisure, free enough to indulge in carelessness.

But tomorrow, by the subtle and insidious processes of modern society, we can no longer enjoy such freedom. We must, to some extent, bow before the two great tyrants of our age- Conformity and Mechanization.

In a thoroughly mechanized society, we stand to be manufactured in the image of the machine. We stand to lose our finest sensibilities, to see them as shavings heaped upon the floor.

In a society so lavishly proud of its techniques in mass production, we ourselves have made a fetish of mass conformity. The independent and inquisitive mind finds itself compressed, confined, bounded on all sides by the eight hour day and the double feature at the cinema house; made insensate by the appalling sterility of our modern culture, with all its juke-box garishness, its mechanical gadgets, its previous utility, its digest magazines, its neon nightmares. For a few pennies, or by a flick of the wrist, we may learn all the news considered fit to print; and commentators are provided to render its meaning, and we are told of its further consequences by the prophets who garnish the editorial pages.

I wonder what kind of people we shall become if we continue to live in a world where we are urged to lubricate ourselves for our continued efficiency, as we lubricate our machines. I wonder how much we are influenced by the suggestion that by drinking a certain brand of liquor we can become men of distinction. And I wonder if it is possible to be reprimanded by a child, with horror showing on its face, because we brush our teeth without massaging our gums. Even the rather refreshing humor once found in the comic strips has disappeared. The other day, I found in the comic-strips, one corpse, another corpse pending, a petty theft, a bribery under way, and, by my count, eight guns, one sword, and a vicious hatpin …this seems to be indicative of our recent humorous bent.

I say that good naturedly; but it is somehow an ominous sign. If these are the kind of things which can be considered as having an influence upon our minds, how terribly easy it would be to influence us in more complex and critical matters.

It may be flattering for you and me to know that we are being fought over. The battle ground is in our minds. During the lull in lethal warfare, another battle goes on- it is a battle for our minds. This kind of warfare know no truce. It know no discrimination. It does not necessarily combat truth nor justice nor values nor ideologies.

What it does do so appallingly well is completely obscure truth, to dislocate us from our true nature and the fundamental integrity of human relations.

The casualties in this war for man’s mind are not buried beneath the earth, they are leveled to a kind of existence which the sensitive and creative mind finds intolerable. Our civilized world, the streets of our cities and towns, are littered with the casualties. So-called free men bound together by the chains of conformity, marching in a tragic lock-step, forced into the mart of mass production, to become mere spare parts or worse, the packaged goods from the assembly lines.

Sadly enough, all this is not as unpleasant as are the ultimate consequences. The musical accompaniment is in three-quarter time, with muted trumpets and tenor saxophones. Along the way, we have the byproducts of our drudgery- motor cars, frigidaires, pressure cookers, chewing gum. There have been more recent renovations- more money and less labor, more leisure to enjoy the emptiness which our labor and money provide. Science has given us a longer life, and some freedom from physical pain; but it has fashioned at the same time a startling and efficient weapon for our wholesale extermination.

Whatever dreams we may entertain of our future achievements, we know with a reasonable certainty that most of us are committed to similar destinies. This degree we hold is a symbol of our possession of what is commonly called a college education. By and large, it precludes our temperamental unsuitability for common labor. But we are also aware that fame and fortune wait upon the very few-dependent upon a kind of genius most of us lack, and a kind of luck few of us enjoy. Our material and social future is roughly pre-determined-not for the individual, but statistically, for the majority.

Outside our door on the morrow, stand the agents for Better Worlds and Better Tomorrows. If we examine their products closely, I think you will agree that the kind of Better Tomorrow most of these panacea-peddlers have in mind is based upon the exchange of one kind of materialism for another. If we examine their handsome theories critically, we shall come to find that they have roots in a narrow prejudice. I hope you understand I am not talking in a political sense,-not entirely. I merely say that our society is so enmeshed in the gears of its gargantuan machinery, even the prophets of the avant-garde have nothing to offer save pecuniary redemption, or material salvation.

What they would have us do is believe that the ideal that all men are created equal is a fallacy, but they propose, in effect, another fallacy- that all men may be created equal by parliamentary legislation. Politically we are being tempted to adhere to a dictatorship of standardization mediocrity.

I do not propose to evaluate the many shades of political ideology abroad today: I suppose my conclusions would be like any other’s- in keeping with personal prejudices and personal judgments. But you will agree with me when I say that in the development of a people’s government in a democratic society, our forefathers made a remarkable beginning. But our trouble. But our trouble seems to be that we are dangerously prolonging our fervent admiration of their handiwork, and we are reluctant to put into action a few blunt urgencies that a changing world has thrust upon us.

Our abnormal fear of the political “isms” has given us a paralyzed conscience. No government can serve if its motives are stimulated by Fear; if it sacrifices foresight and initiative for the sake of what might be called political self-righteousness.

Our education here is complete, but the world will not stand still long enough for us to practice what little we have learned. A university, like all other institutions, must keep pace with the kind of flux we call progress if it is to survive. The distinguished philosopher Alfred Whitehead has remarked that “for each succeeding generation, the problem of education is new.” He confesses cheerfully I think, that every single generalization respecting mathematical physics taught him at Cambridge has since been abandoned. It is true of all science, and they are to be commended for such a courageous admission. It is similarly true of the humanities, and they are beginning to show a little courage. It can be said without disparaging our triumph today that nothing depreciates so quickly as does this degree we now hold.

For a moment I should like to digress again. I read in Hansard recently- and I confess the habit of reading Hansard- it is sometimes dull but not altogether unenlightening- a speech made by a worthy member of parliament. I should like to mention two of his statements. This honorable gentleman was advising policy of economy. He had two suggestions which would lighten the taxpayer’s load. First, he would dispense with the National Film Board, which he likened to a hungry white elephant. Secondly, he would dispose of our overseas broadcasting facilities on the Atlantic Coast, which he considered an example of trying to keep up with the Joneses.

But the classic grievance he cited, which brought him to this thriftful conclusion was that the price of alarm clocks was too high. And that, I think is a splendid example. I could not have invented a better one. We should sacrifice the National Film Board and our overseas programs for a cheaper alarm clock.

Here we see the reasoning, perhaps exaggerated , which infests our modern society. Material goods, utility, usefulness, cheapness above all else!

Now let us arrive at the core of my contention. If you agree with my diagnosis, you will perhaps agree with the prescription.

I can make this generalization with assurance; there has never been a time in the history of our university when it was faced with so great a challenge or so great a temptation. In this era of free education, so long as it lasts, the institutions of higher learning have the opportunity they have cried for so long. Philosophic educators consider the centers of higher learning as the logical touchstone for a nation’s culture, for a nation’s progress, and well being..

Let us consider that in light of this University and this Province. I will be frank, because there is little use in being otherwise, and I consider this an opportunity to unburden a few grievances, not against our Alma Mater, but against ourselves. Surely we realize the necessity of a cultural renaissance. If I were asked to answer the startled query now so frequently raised, as to why so many of our most promising young men are leaving this country for that nation to the south, my reason would be that one might as well live in the land where the way of life is original than remain in the land where it is , like the June bride, made up of something borrowed, and something blue. We have within our borders the seeds of our own greatness.

In a province where nearly half our population speak French, our university has as its language requirement one year of Latin. I suggest we render unto Caesar those things which are Caesar’s and render unto Canada those things which are distinctly her own. Truly, we can never be Canadian citizens so long as we are unable to enjoy social intercourse with nearly half of our Canadian family.

Furthermore, and this is obvious, nothing would be of more benefit to this university than would three hundred co-eds. A co-educational university makes a unique contribution to its students. The qualities of social poise, gentility, and manliness are vital necessities, and these qualities are the natural result of a campus society where men and women meet together in common endeavor, mutual respect and similar numbers.

And finally the university must meet the challenge of youth , and it must prepare its undergraduates for the awful challenge of the future.

Let me come to it directly. All our wealth of natural resources, all our great traditions and our limitless material potential are to no avail, unless we inhabit this land with men and women keenly aware of their own wealth of resources, young men and women cognizant of their own potential.

The key to our solution is in the continued expansion of the liberal arts, the humanities, the world of letters. This does not ignore the faculties of Science and applied science, but it is a plea for the faculty of Arts.

If we are to preserve our identity, retain some semblance of human dignity, in this cluttered world of chrome and silver-plated gadgets, we must return to something like that concept of education we abandoned in the era of Henry Ford’s first motor-car. Surely the Arts faculty has learned its lesson from the past. It can no longer devote its time to developing its students into what John Dewey proclaimed as “little coteries of emancipated souls.” It must renounce its previous snobbery and become once more an agent of humanity.

The liberal Arts must be the fountainhead of our culture. A professor of the Arts faculty told his class at the beginning of the year: “This course will not put a nickel in your pockets; it will never serve as a reference for a job”. I think it has come to pass that this university will ever resist sending its graduates from this campus economically secure but culturally bankrupt.

Tomorrow we do battle with the tyrants. If we are truly worthy of this degree we hold, we will continue our pursuit of truth, we will preserve our spiritual identity, we will master the machinery that has threatened to enslave us.

This is the best of possible worlds for us today. It is far from being the best of conceivable worlds. We can only contribute to that distant end by remaining free, enlightened individuals.

Should we fall, we forfeit this degree- this symbol of our sovereignty. We shall not fail so long as we covet the memory of this day, so long as we maintain the impetus we have gained in our years here.