Yet another case: The people of North Dakota are trying to take over the education of their own children and liberalize the school system of their state; and here comes George D. Strayer, professor of Educational Administration at Columbia University, addressing the legislative committee of the state educational committee, Minot, North Dakota, April 18, 1919, attacking the proposed new laws, and laying out a complete program of pedagogical toryism. No violation of academic propriety for a Columbia professor to take part in politics—provided it is on the side of special privilege! Nor is it a violation of academic propriety if a Columbia professor rushes into the capitalistic press, provided he rushes in in defense of his masters. In the New York “Times” for May 22, 1922, I find Professor James C. Egbert, Director of University Extension and Director of the School of Business of Columbia University, spreading himself to the extent of three columns on the subject of “labor education.” There was no slightest occasion for this professor to spread himself; nobody asked his opinion, he did not even have the pretext of a public address before some bankers’ association. The only camouflage which the Times provides is the phrase, “in a recent interview”—that is, in this precise present interview with the Times! After which the Times goes on to publish nearly three columns of the professor’s manuscript, with nothing but quotation marks to keep up the pretense that it is an “interview.” Says the professor: “The educational system devised by the labor unions has virtually broken down”—which is a plain lie. The professor then goes on to say that the proper place for the labor unions to come for their education is to the established universities. I read the professor’s three columns of eloquence, and realize that I learned the whole thing when I was three years old, in two lines of nursery rhyme: “‘Won’t you come into my parlor?’ Said the spider to the fly.” What is the final product of all this system we have been studying? It may be stated in one word, which is dullness. Some men are hired, and they are hired because they are dull, and will do dull work; and they do it. The student comes to college, full of eagerness and hope, and he finds it dull. He has no idea why it should be so; it is incredible to him that men should be selected because they are dull, and should be fired if they prove to be anything but dull. All he sees is the dullness, and he hates it, and “cuts” it as much as he can, and goes off to practice football or get drunk. I quote one more paragraph from the letter of Bayard Boyesen: