Kristol Clear #147--College Visits

Editor's note: Due to a technical error, some readers were incorrectly sent an unfinished draft of the newsletter earlier this morning. Please refer to the correct draft below. —Jim Swift, Deputy Online Editor

From Hyde Park to Bloomington...

Ask anyone who's on the lecture circuit to compare speaking to business groups with speaking at colleges, and he'll tell you the same thing—if he's candid. The business talks tend to be pretty well-paid and not too demanding (shush—don't tell anyone!). The corporation or trade association treats you well, probably flying you business class, sending a car service to pick you up at the airport, putting you up at a nice hotel, inviting you to a fancy cocktail party or dinner—and asking at most an hour of your time for a speech and Q&A. The audience is polite and at least pretends to be attentive and appreciative. In general, the hosts tend to flatter you and indulge the conceit that you're an important guy whose time is valuable (even if it isn't!). And they hand you a nice check on your way out the door.

Then there are the colleges. You fly coach, you're picked up at the airport by a nice kid driving his second-hand Camry, and you spend a whole day at work—guest-teaching a class, having coffee with the College Republicans, paying a courtesy call on the university president, lunching in the school cafeteria with a group of honors students, doing an interview the college radio station, and finally—exhausted!—giving a 45-minute lecture and then taking questions for an hour from professor and students trying to trip you up. Then you collapse into bed at your okay-but-not-lavish hotel near campus, where the four high school seniors staying in the room next door are expressing their excitement about their college visit (and being away from their parents) at the top of their lungs until 2:00 a.m. When the check comes three months later (college bursars take their time), it's usually for a relatively modest sum.

And you know what? The college visit is more fun.

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Why are the college visits more fun? Because students are...students. There's a kind of open-mindedness among some of them, and a willingness to argue and challenge (which is sometimes a prelude to open-mindedness) among others, that you tend not to find among adults. Not that the businessmen aren't pleasant and often very interesting. In fact, one reason I like doing speeches is that you can learn a lot from the attendees if you ask them questions and engage in discussion before or after the talk. It's a way to broaden one's experience and acquaintances. Still, these are adults, they've got a lot of other things on their minds, those minds are mostly formed (as adults' minds presumably should be), and it's just not the same as spending time with students.

This view of students may sound a little pollyannaish, and it probably is—but I've got to say it mostly reflects the reality by my two campus visits over the last ten days. The first was to the University of Chicago, where as it happens my mother received her Ph.D. just about 70 years ago. (Chicago did a good job, as you can judge from her fine review of a new biography of Margaret Thatcher in the current issue.) I was a guest of the Institute of Politics there (I serve on its advisory board), and spoke on a panel on the future of the GOP with former Congressmen Vin Weber and Jack Kingston (if you'd like, you can listen to or watch the whole thing here). I was also a guest of David Axelrod on his podcast, which, if you're looking to continue to avoid work, you can listen to here. And then I conducted Conversations, one with David and one with Vin, for the Foundation for Constitutional Government.

The conversation with David focused on the future of the Democratic party and of liberalism, with some reflections on life in the White House and on the Obama presidential campaigns. I think it's interesting, and you can watch or listen here. David didn't change my mind in our Conversation, as I didn't change his in his podcast, and I suspect neither of us will change the views of many listeners. (Though David forwarded me an email from one podcast listener expressing amazement that she didn't find me repellent.) But I hope both of us made some people think a little.

Meanwhile, I can report the gentrification of the area near the University is proceeding apace. The panelists had a pleasant dinner at a chic restaurant in Hyde Park (contrary to my account of the Puritan character of college visits), where Axelrod's status as a home-town liberal hero got us treated well despite the suspicious looks from those who worked there who either recognized me, Vin, or Jack (who was a pretty prominent TV surrogate for our current president during the campaign).

But the highlight of my time in Hyde Park was the half hour I spent one afternoon at the Seminary Co-op bookstore, which I think is the leading academic bookstore in America (though I admit I'm not expert on this topic). The Seminary Co-op used to be in the basement of the Chicago Theological Seminary, and was a mysterious, charming, and somewhat intimidating maze of bookshelves. It's now moved a block and occupies the first floor of a modern building. But even if some of the charm has gone, it's still a great place to browse, and to deceive oneself that one's keeping up (vaguely) with some of the literature in political philosophy (in my case) and other disciplines. And then if you buy a couple of daunting academic books on German thinkers, put them on your nightstand, and occasionally read or skim a few pages, you can sort of delude yourself that you're "keeping your hand in" with respect to serious intellectual matters. Self-delusion is a great thing.

There's less of that available, perhaps, when one leaves the hothouse of Hyde Park for the great state of Indiana. This past week I spent a day and a half at two campuses of the Indiana University giving a talk in Indianapolis and then doing a variety of things in Bloomington, including a talk followed by a long and interesting question and answer session, and...another podcast.

Bloomington also featured a very nice dinner at a restaurant called Grazie! near the lovely central courthouse square. What made the dinner memorable wasn't simply the fine homemade pasta and the excellent service, but that, when the owner (or in any case the person in charge) showed up with a complimentary after-dinner limoncello, he also had in his hand the latest issue of The Weekly Standard. He's a subscriber, and so far as I know had no idea I was going to be there that night, but happened to have brought the magazine to the restaurant to read that day. I was of course happy to sign the issue for him, and we had a very nice talk. (I now realize that in writing this I've presumably blown his cover, and I trust the fine liberal professors and administrators at IU don't take it out on Grazie!. But just to be sure, maybe conservatives in the Bloomington area should visit the restaurant to make sure he pays no price for his reading habits. Tell them I sent you!)

One last thing about the restaurant. It seems to be on the ground floor of the very building that some 30 years ago housed the American Spectator—a magazine about half the TWS staff were associated with at one point or another. Small world.

Later this week I visit Arizona State University—but I'll spare you in the next newsletter an account on the bookstores or restaurants there. Unless there's something important to report! Otherwise, it will be back to sports. Maybe I'll even say a word about a topic I believe I made it through this newsletter without mentioning—you know whom.

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Onward.

Bill Kristol

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