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Serious About the Sciences
With
the help of $1-billion for buildings and programs ranging from astronomy
to zoology, Yale is attempting to rebalance its educational equation.
by
Bruce Fellman
May 2000
Last
winter's announcement by President Richard Levin that the University
was embarking on a $500-million construction program to upgrade
its science and technology infrastructure was
nothing less than a watershed event in Yale history. "We intend
for Yale to be on everyone's short list of the great universities
of the world," said Levin at
a packed press conference on January 20 in the Bass Center for Structural
and Molecular Biology. "In the 21st century, you can't stay on that
list without excellence in science and engineering."
The ambitious plan,
which calls for the construction of five new buildings -- four on
Science Hill and one in the nearby engineering complex -- and the
renovation of many others over the next 20 years, certainly attracted
attention, with extensive coverage in the New York Times
and the Chronicle of Higher Education, among others. And
no sooner had the buzz from the first press conference died down
than the University announced that it would spend an additional
$500 million on both new and upgraded research facilities at the
School of Medicine.
"Yale is already a national and
international center for advancing the frontiers of knowledge," said Levin."These
investments will keep us at the forefront of many areas."
They will also, notes D. Allan
Bromley, dean of engineering and Sterling
Professor of the Sciences, put to rest a widely held and deep-seated
perception."I think this building program will finally convince
people that Yale is indeed serious about science and technology,"
says Bromley, who is widely viewed as the chief engineer of the
effort. "We had become seriously unbalanced as a University. We're
now moving towards rebalance."
That seriousness would seem to
be self-evident. The University ranks fifth in the dollar amount of National Institutes
of Health funding grants it receives, many of its science-oriented departments
rank at or near the top in terms of research productivity and the quality of educational
opportunities, and about one-quarter of all undergraduates major in a scientific
discipline. Still, when many outside observers think about Yale, the most common
image to emerge is a university dominated by the humanities and social sciences -- and one in which the pursuit of science is seen as more tolerated than celebrated.
It is an old view, born in large
part with the creation of the Sheffield Scientific School in 1861. Sheff, as it
became known, was developed as an adjunct to the College, a place where students
more interested in science and technology than Latin and philosophy could be sent
to get their hands dirty. Indeed, President Noah Porter, who led Yale from 1871
to 1886, warned modernists to resist "the watering down of classical education"
by inserting into the curriculum "courses in science and other utilitarian subjects."
Today, this view seems hopelessly out of date, but though Sheff was absorbed by
Yale in the 1930s and any intellectual segregation is long gone, the feeling that
scientists somehow don't quite belong has lingered.
The
fact that Science Hill is so far from the central campus hasn't
helped matters. Nor did the controversial and painful attempts
to restructure -- some would say "eliminate" -- the engineering
department in the 1960s and early 1990s.
When President Levin took office
in 1993, figuring out precisely where science and technology fit into the University's
priorities was high on his agenda. "It's terribly important for all students to
have a thorough exposure to these subjects," says Levin. "They're too much a part
of our collective future to be ignored."
But Levin had another reason to
push Yale in this direction. The President is a 1968 Stanford graduate, and he
has witnessed first-hand the remarkable economic growth that can result when basic
university research is transformed into high technology. As an economist, Levin
has also documented this interrelationship. "We have the opportunity to become
one of the national centers of excellence in many of the emerging growth areas
of both engineering and biotechnology, from combustion and computer chips to pharmaceuticals
and medical devices," he says. "There's no doubt that our strengths in these areas
could benefit the local and regional economy."
However, before any discoveries
could be made, jobs created, or companies spun off, the President had to deal
with a dilemma. The University's budget was in the red, and because of decades
of deferred maintenance, Levin had inherited a crumbling campus. "Early in my
tenure, we convened planning groups to look at our facilities needs in key areas:
athletics, the libraries, the arts, the residential colleges, and on Science Hill,"
says Levin. "Planning for science took the longest. It was more complicated and
expensive, and there were concerns not just about the final configuration of the
Hill, but also about the status of departments and programs over the long period
of time when the project was unfolding."
Coming up with an acceptable compromise
was a difficult process. The initial task force, under the direction
of Vice President for Finance and Administration Joseph Mullinix
(who is resigning this summer; see page 28), focused on buildings,
and when that group couldn't agree on what was necessary, Provost
Alison Richard convened a second
committee in the fall of 1995 to concentrate on academic planning
instead of on bricks and mortar. Directed by Pierre Hohenberg, the
deputy provost for science and technology, the group, after discussing
its recommendations with the Hillier Group, the Princeton, New Jersey-based
architectural consultants who'd worked with the first committee,
in 1996 produced a comprehensive plan for Science Hill.
It didn't fly.
Among
the plan's suggestions for new construction and extensive renovation
($20 million per year for 20 years) were calls for tearing
down the Sterling Chemistry Laboratory and building new facilities
for the chemistry department further north of its location on Science
Hill. Historic preservationists were adamantly opposed to demolishing
the laboratory, which was designed by noted architect William A.
Delano and built in the early 1920s. And the chemists themselves
rebelled, fearing that the move would be tantamount to exile from
the center of intellectual life on the Hill.
The committee went back to work
and, after factoring in an additional building designed for engineering (its facilities,
while linked in spirit, are actually two blocks south of Science Hill) came up
with the compromise that was unveiled by President Levin last winter.
"We're quite satisfied with the
arrangement," says Andrew Hamilton, chemistry department chairman.
So is Pierre Hohenberg. "In our
plan, we've tried to make Science Hill and the engineering area express both Yale's
ambitions and achievements in science and technology, and its excellence in teaching
and research," he says. "And we want it to become a place where students and scientists
alike truly want to be."
Within roughly ten years, according
to the current schedule, the engineering complex will, thanks to a $24 million
gift from 1963 engineering graduate John Malone (see page 33), be graced with
a new research center at the corner of Prospect and Trumbull streets. The facility
is expected to house the engineering department's major research initiatives in
combustion and biomedical engineering. "We're set to explore all guises of combustion,
from what goes on in very large gas turbines to the combustion occurring in tiny
micropower units that might run for a month on a drop of gasoline," says Bromley.
"And in biomedical engineering, we're exploring imaging, biomaterials, bioinformatics,
sensors, and genomics, among others."
During the same time period, Science
Hill will see the construction of four new buildings. (Much of the renovation
work in both areas is scheduled for the second decade of the plan.) Sterling Chemistry
will remain in place, but will be thoroughly refurbished and reconfigured as a
teaching laboratory in the sciences. The chemistry department will get a new lab,
just north of its current research complex, that will house an ambitious research
program in the emerging area of synthetic organic chemistry, the science of making
novel molecules that are custom crafted for purposes that may range from attacking
cancer cells to increasing electrical conductivity. In addition, the molecular,
cellular, and developmental biology department (MCDB), now in the Osborn Memorial
Laboratories and the Kline Biology Tower, will move to a building to be constructed
in the parking lot east of the J. Willard Gibbs lab. These facilities will be
interconnected by a network of bridges and tunnels to create what is being called
the "molecular campus."
An
"environmental campus" -- a collection of interconnected buildings
that will also be linked to those more concerned with the molecular
aspects of science -- is being created at the bottom of the Hill.
Already under construction behind the Peabody Museum of Natural
History, the Environmental Sciences Facility is designed to house
interdisciplinary research and education in the earth and natural
sciences. The building will also better preserve the Peabody's vast
collections and make the material more accessible to investigators
and undergraduates.
In addition, the School of Forestry
and Environmental Studies is developing plans for a building on the corner of
Prospect and Sachem streets that will be linked to Osborn. The facility will both
bring together a faculty scattered throughout the Hill and tighten the connection
between the forestry school and the recently inaugurated department of ecology
and evolutionary biology, which is headquartered in Osborn.
The forestry structure will also
"set a high water mark in terms of great environmental design and
sustainability," says James Gustave
Speth, FES dean. "This is going to be Yale's first 'green' building,
and we envision it becoming a center for people with concerns about
and interests in the environment, as well as a way to reposition
the school and make it an integral part of the College."
Integrating the various scientific
disciplines with each other, and with the humanities and social sciences, is one
of the central principles guiding the Science Hill plan. Hohenberg explains that
a hallmark of the effort is its emphasis on making it relatively easy for departments
and researchers to connect and communicate with one another. "It's through collaboration
and cooperation that new fields emerge," he says.
The present layout of Science Hill's
widely separated buildings (with the notable exception of the Bass Center, which
was designed with science and scientists in mind) is precisely wrong for fostering
interdisciplinary enterprise, notes Susan Hockfield, dean of the Graduate School.
"It's absolutely key that you make
physical barriers dissolve," says Hockfield, who studies brain chemistry in her
lab at the medical school and remembers fondly the construction of a bridge over
Cedar Street that linked the school's two main research buildings. "If you have
to think about putting on a jacket -- and sometimes, if you have to wait for an
elevator -- you're less likely to make the effort. But remove the inertial barriers,
and you can transform the way science is done."
To
be sure, Science Hill residents will still have to walk from place
to place, but the fact that they will eventually be able
to navigate without the need for umbrellas and overcoats promises
to make collaboration simpler (if no less aerobic). But Joel Rosenbaum,
MCDB professor, is not convinced the planned configuration will
do the job. In an op-ed piece in the Yale Daily News, Rosenbaum
faulted the placement of the buildings, particularly the distance
between chemistry and MCDB, saying it did not represent "visionary
thinking about where science might be going over the next several
decades."
Most observers are more optimistic,
and another part of the development plan addresses a further impediment to interdisciplinary
work: the absence of an easily accessible place to eat and socialize. "There's
a sense that Science Hill is Siberia," says Hohenberg.
A new dining facility, tentatively
slated for Gibbs, should make the area more inviting. So will a major landscaping
project, to be managed by the forestry school, to plant an assortment of trees
and shrubs on Science Hill and recreate what was once known as "Sachem's Wood."
However, even with these enhancements
to its ambience, Yale's scientific research center has a geographical problem
that many undergraduates, who are required to take science courses to fulfill
distribution requirements, find off-putting. Quite simply, it's a long haul to
the Hill, and on a cold or rainy day, it might be easier to stay home than to
trek to class. Worse, it might be easier to attempt to avoid the sciences altogether.
That would be tragic, says Allan
Bromley. "Arthur C. Clarke once wrote that to 98 percent of the world, high technology
is indistinguishable from magic, so if your education doesn't include a substantial
component of understanding about the goals, aspirations, and approaches to thinking
of science and technology, you've joined that large group and become, in essence,
disenfranchised," Bromley notes. "We need to get more Yale students into science
and engineering, as well as more science and engineering into Yale students."
To deal with the latter concern,
the Science Hill plan calls for the construction of two large lecture halls in
a location, as yet undetermined, close to the heart of the central campus. Bringing
the Hill to students would solve the geographical issue.
But, to alter slightly the famous
line from the movie Field of Dreams, if you build it, will they come? And if they
do, will there be enough money to keep them, and their scientist professors, happy
and productive?
Science
is expensive, notes Hohenberg, and only the funds for construction
have been discussed so far. "I worry that we will build capacity
for faculty and students that we cannot support to the degree necessary
to exploit the excellence we've created," he says. "There's an unstated
assumption that everything healthy must grow, but I think that can
also be seen as an addiction."
The fertilizer for science is success
in the increasingly difficult competition for grants from such government agencies
as the NIH, the National Science Foundation, and the Departments of Defense and
Energy, as well as from foundations and corporate sources. In the Faculty of Arts
and Science in fiscal year 1998 -99, the grants and contracts total exceeded $60
million, and there are efforts to increase that figure significantly, says Hohenberg.
Royalties and licensing fees from patents and inventions, particularly those associated
with drugs such as Zerit, the anti-AIDS medication that last year netted Yale
some $40 million, also represent important sources of income.
A percentage of this money winds
up in the Science Development Fund for the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, and this
resource has grown from $1.3 million in 1992 to over $6 million last year. "The
SDF is our source of startup funds for recruiting new faculty and of the matching
funds that increasingly are required by all funding agencies, both public and
private. But the larger the number of programs, the less each program can get
out of the pot," says Hohenberg. "No matter how you look at it, university research
isn't a money machine, and university funds must always supplement whatever comes
in from the outside. So if being prudent makes you a curmudgeon, well, I'll wear
that mantle proudly."
Despite any uncertainties about
the future, plans continue to move forward. The foundations for the Environmental
Sciences Facility and the CAB are going into the ground, architects are being
consulted, and fundraising is under way.
Richard Shaw, dean of undergraduate
admissions and financial aid, is already gearing up to capitalize on the building
initiative. "We're going to be highlighting the sciences more," said Shaw, noting
that Yale plans to make its presence better known through such efforts as a science-based
Web site, more visits by faculty to the nation's leading science and technology
oriented high schools, and increased recruiting involvement by science and engineering
alumni. "We won't, however, be changing our basic message. We'll still present
the sciences in the context of the liberal arts and tell students that while you
can get the training in the best facilities imaginable that you need to become
an effective scientist or engineer, you'll also be able to graduate having learned
the skills that will make you a fine leader, teacher, and manager. That's a very
attractive message."
It is one the President would emphasize
to anyone concerned that Yale is endeavoring to become CalTech East
or MIT South. "We'll continue to invest in the humanities and social
sciences and preserve our distinction in those fields, as well as
our historical emphasis on undergraduate education," says Levin.
"But I hope that our billion dollar investment means that the University's
image will change somewhat, and that we'll be recognized for our
excellence in all fields. In science, engineering, and medicine,
Yale's definitely in the game."
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