President's Address

REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT (3 November 1981 - UA RG 285, Box 1, File 2)

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the fourth Academic Awards Ceremony at the University of New Brunswick in Saint John.

An awards ceremony is different to different people. To university faculty and officials it is, in part at least, a public relations event; a time to get dressed up, to preen a little, and to announce once again the University's commitment to excellence. For award winners, as for their family and friends, it's a time for feeling pride and satisfaction in their academic achievements. For those who do no fall into either of these two groups, it may appear a rather curious ceremony - a cross between a church service and a medieval morality play. In fact some of the younger members of the audience might be forgiven if they assumed, as they watched us process in  in our academic robes and hoods and hats, that we had miscalculated Hallowe'en by two days, and that the students, having mastered the tricks of examinations, were about to receive their treats in the form of prizes.

The truth is, these ceremonies are still very much influenced by medieval traditions. At UNB, for example, we still use Latin at our graduation exercises, notwithstanding the fact that the churches have all now abandoned it, to remind us of our origins and our tradition.

And a great tradition it is.

Universities were a medieval invention. their creation was an attempt to provide a milieu for free and independent inquiry into various fields of knowledge, unfettered by religious dogma. While it partook of some of the ceremony, dress, and solemnity of the church, its mission was very different: to challenge - through intellectual investigation - the knowledge and beliefs of society. In other words, to hold a critical mirror up to nature and society. To be, in fact, a kind of institutional 'court jester'.

I wish I had thought of that analogy, but I owe it to Professor C. B. Macpherson who, in a convocation speech at Memorial a few years ago, said as follows:

'... For the function of the fool was precisely to be outspoken: to cut through the adulation with which the prince was surrounded, and speak the truth to him about anything or everything in his court -- to keep him in touch with the reality beneath the illusions sedulously fostered by the court.

The sensible prince valued his fool highly and guaranteed his security; permitted, indeed encourage, him to say what no one else in the court would dare to say. The prince knew that he needed this service, even though what the jester told him might often be immediately displeasing. And to get this service he knew he had to protect and support the jester and to make him a respected institution, beyond the indignant reach of anyone.

We no longer live in a world of princes and courtiers -- we live in democracies -- vast, fragmented, apparently amorphous bodies. We are supposed to be ruled by the sovereign people, not a sovereign prince (though it was not without reason that someone coined the phrase, centuries ago, 'merchant prince', and that the phrase has stuck). I suggest that the sovereign people stands in as much need of a jester or fool as ever a sovereign prince did, and to perform the same function -- to tell the truth, even when it is immediately displeasing.'

It was a curious but clever invention of liberal democracy, and it helps to explain why this form of government has proved so durable. It may at times be displeasing, even offensive, to have an institution that tells you what's wrong about your way of believing or acting, but, properly used, it is a good antidote to revolution. In fact, we know that where universities have failed  to carry out this responsibility, or been prevented from doing so, democracy has slipped inexorably into dictatorship and barbarism.

The business corporation exists to produce and deliver goods and services to consumers; governments have been created to protect the public good; churches attempt to spread a particular gospel and foster spiritual values; the arts are the vehicle for the liberation and expression of the human imagination, and thereby add to our cultural resources. Only universities exist to provide a critical and systematic commentary upon society. And they do this through their teaching and research.

Now why do I inflict such a heavy trip upon nice, unsuspecting people like yourselves? Because I believe that, in the present discussions about universities and who should fund them, too little emphasis is being placed on this fundamental purpose of the university. One hears much of the university's role in the

• training of people for the professions;
• conducting research to find solutions to society's problems or to enhance its economic development;
• providing a means of social mobility for the intellectually meritorious;
• rendering a variety of enriching services to the community;

and all of these are valuable in themselves. But the essential purpose of the university is more than the sum total of these parts. Don't get me wrong. I'm not against training people for professions or conducting useful research, but if that's all we do then God help us and our society. Our primary mission, I believe, is to give as many of our students as care to take it a fundamental social literacy, so that they can see through the slick and facile political and commercial hucksterism of our society and establish their own values and find their own meaning in life. Through its teaching and scholarly research the university must cultivate a spirit of rational, peaceful dissent. Not for its won sake, but in the interests of a free, tolerant, enlightened and improving society.

Is such a mission needful at present? I believe it is. I'm not going to say that it is more needful than ever. We have in this country achieved a measure of tolerance and social stability (thanks in no small part to our universities) that should be acknowledged. But there is no reason to feel complacent. All of the finer achievements of our civilization are delicate plants that need continual care, and there are still many weeds to be eradicated. We are still a long way from a truly  just society.

To illustrate my point I could give you examples of the ways in which prejudice, exploitation, brutality, denial of civil liberties, and much more, operate in our society. But I won't. This is not an occasion for the recitation of litanies of any kind. It is, rather, an occasion to celebrate intellectual attainment and the traditions and values of the university which give a humane context to that attainment.

In that spirit, therefore, may I offer my congratulations to you who will receive awards this afternoon, and wish you continued success in reaching your academic and life goals. May I also express my great pleasure that a truly outstanding Canadian, a marvellous teacher, and a good friend of mine and of UNB's, Dr. Albert Trueman, is with us on this occasion. Few people have better exhibited the personal and professional excellence for which the university stands than Dr. Trueman. We are honoured to have him and look forward to his address later in the programme.