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A textbook on modern weaponry may rest symbolically on an 18-pounder captured by Commodore Stephen Decatur during the War of 1812, but today’s midshipmen must look beyond the latest technology to understand the full meaning of naval power in the world of tomorrow. The U. S. Naval Academy sees study of the humanities as essential in developing the required intellectual maturity.
In his instructions to the founding Superintendent of the U. S. Naval Academy, Commander Franklin Buchanan, Secretary of the Navy George Bancroft directed that midshipmen study:
“mathematics, nautical astronomy, theory of morals- international law, gunnery, use of steam, the SpanisU and French languages, and other branches essentia ... to the accomplishment of a naval officer.”
In short, the naval officer should be both an accomplished professional and an educated gentleman. The struggle over which one of these considerations shout predominate has often been portrayed as a conflict between the Athenian idea of the cultured citizen and the Spartan concept of the austere and noble military leader.
38
Proceedings / September 1^
SCri^r ,niost °f its history, the Naval Academy had a pre- re | CUrriculum—every student took the same classes, tj ar ess °f individual differences in interest, prepara- of Y t3*ent' '931, President James Rowland Angell pla' 3*leac^’n§ t*le Academy’s Board of Visitors, com- Forth '’m'ted attention given to the humanities.
e 1933-1934 school years, the Superintendent, Rear Prof1* - ddlomas C. Hart, dropped some of the practical norneSSIOna* instruction, founded a Department of Eco- cla ICS ^.Government, and increased the proportion of 31 S^l°om tt‘Tle devoted to the humanities from 21.6% to then ° ^umanities at the Naval Academy were defined ral ’ aS are now, as: all subjects that are neither natu- of tSCIfnce’ nor engineering, nor the practical application n’ca* skills; and, most unusual, they include the
Soc'al sciences.
ers f6 nCXt ^uPerintendent, Rear Admiral David F. Sell- battl °Un^ l^eSe curricu'ar changes irrelevant to success in ig^-y6' i)egan to restore the professional courses. In Hj ’ Department of Economics and Government metl^e w'ti1 English and History to form a single depart- 1938, the humanities’ share of class time was redTUhCed to 17.6%.
disa C n0t*0n cultivating gentlemanly attributes never djm|5^eared- Midshipmen were required to deliver after- into Cr ,S')eec'les- Social events were planned for initiation studf lte-S°ciety- ^aclt midshipman was also required to y oreign languages of his choice for two years. VVrit^lrinS the 1950s, each first class midshipman had to felat Sen*or Paper on a topic of choice—not necessarily hu ,to dasswork. Some midshipman contact with the addit ltlCS WaS l^us recluirecl’ l3111 ■' seemed to be a minor In10n to the main business of the Academy. s>de LCSPonse t0 growing discontent both inside and out- aU e Academy, the prescribed curriculum was gradu- “v,.. lsestahlished. In 1959, midshipmen were allowed to Hast' ate” (rece*ve credit for) subjects they had already ered- Validation allowed for elective courses; depart- beS l^en established requirements for majors that could °f t^H^Pleted voluntarily. By overloading, 105 members •tiai ass °F '963 were able to complete such academic ente [t -^nd ^Stnning in 1963, a few exceptionally tal- aH„ lndent Scholars were selected each year to conduct advanced research.
r0Om*er *964, each midshipman devoted 85% of his class- thus C^ort to the prescribed classes and 15% to electives, ^hil C0111P*et'ng a minor in his chosen discipline. Mean- Ultv C’ qualifications of both civilian and military fac- p0j Were upgraded, and the first Academic Dean was ap- 0f ed- At this point, attention turned to the improvement -professional training, in order to restore the balance. 7q e final phase of curricular reform occurred in 1969— the a Cf *eadership of Rear Admiral James F. Calvert, tian CUdemy Superintendent. Henceforth, every midship- an aW°u*d se'ect—and complete the requirements for— gajnademic major. The academic disciplines went on to conv^r°*eSS'°na autonorny through the establishment of a neerjentlona^ university departmental structure. The engi- pre(jen8 majors were accredited by an external agency, Cessor of the Accrediting Board in Engineering and
Technology, and the chemistry program was blessed by the American Chemical Society. While the new curricular approach attracted first-rate civilian faculty members, and won top-notch students away from civilian schools, its primary purpose was to ensure genuine intellectual effort by all students.
The basic academic requirements established during the Calvert era still stand:
- Core courses in traditional professional subjects (seamanship, navigation, and leadership)
- A similar core in technical professional subjects (primarily weapons systems and engineering)
- Classes in mathematics and the natural sciences “emphasizing basic principles and analytical techniques”
- Classes in the humanities and social sciences. Before 1985, 24-27 semester hours, about 15% of their classroom effort, were required for technical majors
- The requirements for the chosen academic major
In theory, completion of the subjects not included in the major prepare midshipmen for entry into any warfare specialty, without further formal schooling. In practice, first class humanities majors accepted for Nuclear Power School take a mathematics course to review their sophomore year math classes and build upon that base. If taken literally, the theory would mean that one’s chosen major is not correlated with one’s initial role in naval service. Generations of midshipmen have learned gratefully that, “You don’t have to go aero (the aerospace major, among the most difficult programs) to fly.”
The Navy was not ready for the concept of the academic major, which departed from the utilitarian instincts of the old prescribed curriculum. In January 1974, the Academy was directed to limit enrollment in non-technical majors to 20%. People were admitted to the Brigade according to scores on interest inventory questionnaires, which indicated that they would select technical majors in the desired proportion.
During the era of then-Rear Admiral Kinnaird R. McKee as Superintendent, the 29 majors were reduced to an offering of 18—eight in engineering, six in mathematics and science, and four in the humanities: English, history, economics, and political science.
When the majors program was developed, the need to include so much dasswork—enough hours to satisfy external accrediting agencies, to complete the professional core, and to fulfill the mission-essential requirements of physical training and military evolutions—dictated abandonment of the most pedagogically attractive features of the lock-step curriculum: language study and the senior paper. The two-year requirement for language study was retained only for the humanities majors. Meanwhile, the worst feature of the old prescribed curriculum was retained: the busy schedule of classes.
Midshipmen still spend 18 to 20 hours per week in five or six different classes, accumulating 140 to 150 semester hours prior to graduation, depending on their major— about 20 credits more than are required at comparable civilian schools. Theoretically, time is available for two hours of study and preparation for each hour spent in the classroom. And, added to this basic work week of 60 hours are athletics, formations, brigade responsibilities, and liberty time.
The description of the Academy’s program as “rigorous” and “teaching the management of time” is appropriate. However, the average midshipman’s involvement with academics may not be particularly intense or penetrating. With service selection depending on rank-in-class, and separation from the Academy the penalty for failure, prudent midshipmen concentrate on getting the grade, rather than developing a critical understanding or permanent assimilation of the subject matter.
Like so many other changes at the Naval Academy, the more recent changes in the curriculum resulted from a combination of external influences and internal leadership: Early in 1984, at the invitation of Secretary of the Navy John Lehman, the Superintendent, Rear Admiral Charles R. Larson, discussed the Academy curriculum with the Secretary and Admiral James D. Watkins, then-Chief of Naval Operations. Educated in philosophy and law, Secretary Lehman said that he found Academy graduates to be superb technicians, who lacked grace in literary expression and solidity in strategic insights. At the urging Superintendent Larson, the Secretary appointed a blue rib-
‘You Are The Republic’
Admiral William J. Crowe, Jr., Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, addressed the U. S. Naval Academy Class of 1986 at their graduation on 21 May 1986. This is an edited and abridged copy of his address.
As a rule, a graduation speaker is never given a topic, but is at the same time expected to inspire and encourage his listeners with stirring remarks about nothing in particular. Today’s event was no exception. I learned early in my life that people in the academic world have a strong tendency to speak in generalities and, when you most want specific answers, to leave you on your own. As a young and struggling student I had a number of teachers insist that a man becomes what he thinks about—that was, of course, designed to encourage studiousness and high thoughts. But if it was true that I became what I thought about, by the time I was 18 I would have become a girl.
Lacking a subject or definitive instructions, I turned to my own experience for help. As I contemplate the 40 years since I graduated from this institution—since I faced the world as you do now, with a degree but little work experience; with high hopes but little actual know-how—a few special thoughts seem to spring out. . . .
There is a strong tendency today in this country—especially among speakers on occasions such as this—to deplore the state of the world, to wring one’s hands, and to fantasize about the past— the good old days. These prophets of doom overlook an awful lot that has gone on in the past and simply ignore the steady progress that has been made over the centuries. In fact, previous ages have faced more disease, more poverty, more hunger, more corruption, more racism, and more killing than your generation. The globe since its beginning has confronted terrifying challenges and yet it is still revolving on its axis. It is more exciting and vibrant today than it ever has been. . . .
The greatest joy a human being can know is the joy we celebrate today—accomplishment. This joy can be boundless when we make full use of our minds, our talents, and our time. But there are no guarantees with either your diploma or your commission. They may widen your opportunities but “future” achievements, results, and satisfaction depend on what you have yet to do. An individual who does not continue to learn and grow as a person is no better than the one who cannot. Newton D. Baker wisely pointed out that, “The man who graduates today and stops learning tomorrow is uneducated the day after.”
You will soon discover as you disperse and report to your first duty station that you do in fact have a great deal more to learn and that, in turn, service life has a lot to teach. In fact, I would recommend that early in the game every ensign and second lieutenant latch on to one or more good chief petty officers, or gunnery sergeants, and absorb their wisdom-. You will greatly profit from what experience has taught them and the depth of their knowledge- If you are genuinely willing to learn, they will be happy to share it with you. In return, they will expect enlightened leadership. Leaders, not technicians, are the number one product of this institution, and that’s what is most needed in the fleet. Believe nre, leadership can and does make a crucial difference in every successful group—and this is even more true in a platoon, a ship, °r a squadron where men may someday be ordered to perform at the risk of death. A winning military capability is inevitably built upon quality leadership.
Successful commanders differ greatly in their styles and tech-
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°n committee to review the Academy curriculum. The
StoT W3S ^leac'e(^ by ret*red Vice Admiral James B.
^dale, philosopher-hero of Vietnam prison camps, stat (?rmer President of the Naval War College. The report .,a e l^at the humanities did not enjoy their deserved status at the Academy.
j aperintendent Larson argued that the Academy should thg anient the Secretary’s broad goals for reform under h?Ult*anCe of the existing Academic Advisory Board, the Cr t'lan an outs'^e agency. The main goals would be n ■ ravision of the core requirements—classes taken by all 1 s tpmen—in the humanities, and the establishment of
honors programs in the humanities majors. The Academy would raise the prestige of its humanities studies by making them as demanding as the accredited engineering classes.
In the days of the lock-step curriculum, the Department of English, History, and Government was referred to by the midshipmen (often with affection; sometimes with contempt) as the “bull” department, an epithet that carried over to the humanities departments under the new order. In bull departments, one could easily pass through seminar discussions without mastering the assigned text, thus saving time to study the technical subjects, which are
JUes' b^t they have a few comm n, qualities. They know the jnC. an'cs °f their business; they alw'lrC 0t^ers to excel; and they fu‘lys keep the organization’s I u „UITIenta^ goals firmly in focus. ent^e you to cultivate those tal- ^orj011 anc^ our country will
profit from such efforts, whether you make your ultimate career in or out of the service . . .
As graduates of the U. S.
Naval Academy you are part of a long and impressive tradition that you can call on in times of strife and peril. You are steeped in the
history and the standards of the world’s foremost Navy and Marine Corps team. You inherit a code of perseverance and victory second to none, and it rests on the achievements of men like Far- ragut, Dewey, Sims, King, Nim- itz, Spruance, and a host of others. 1 can testify that there will be times when you will personally draw on the Navy’s traditions for strength and that you will find them genuinely sustaining.
Right now I suspect that most of you feel that you are approaching the future with comparatively open minds, willing to entertain new ideas and varying points of view. In fact, you probably deplore what appears to be the narrow outlook and predictability of many of your elders. Senior military leaders, not unlike bankers, doctors, journalists, farmers, lawyers, stock brokers, and television executives, all develop their own stereotyped view of the world which often leaves little room for change, invention, or appreciation for the opinion of others. They enter their profession and are gradually entrapped in its patterns of thinking and doing.
I urge you to reject that path and to nourish the spirit of inquiry which the last four years have imparted to you. This involves keeping a broad circle of
so easy to fail. Throughout the years, students have taught their teachers; recently, a senior professor in the social sciences reported glumly that it is useless to assign more than 30 pages of reading for any class session. When they were interviewed for acceptance at Nuclear Power School, humanities majors confessed that they did not work as hard as their roommates laboring in the engineering majors.2
A faculty committee on honors programs was appointed on 9 August 1984, and a committee on the core curriculum was formed later that month. The Academic Advisory Board met at the Academy in September 1984 to be
briefed on the reform movement and to offer any guidance. On 30 January 1985, the Board accepted the concept of the proposed honors program, which was in turn approved and funded by Secretary Lehman on 20 March. (Anyone familiar with academic inertia and the fierceness with which departments defend their turf should be awed by this rapid progress.)
To pave the way for the new program, Secretary Lehman rescinded the 20% limitation on humanities majors. The classes of 1987 and 1988 selected majors in a proportion of roughly 25% humanities to 75% engineering ant^ science. The Academy changed its admissions procedures
acquaintances, wide reading, developing interests outside of your work, seriously listening to others, even your critics, and constantly seeking fresh points of view.
Given the pressures and the specialization of the modern world, and especially of the military profession, you will have to work continuously at keeping an open and questioning mind. But the rewards are great. This capacity is the foundation on which a man or woman can build genuine integrity and self-esteem. You could pay no greater tribute to the Academy or to yourself than winning the constant fight to maintain your intellectual freedom, independence, and perspective.
Let me offer one more piece of amateur wisdom. As you progress and mature, nothing will stand you in better stead than a sense of humor. In a perfect or ideal world, this would not be so important. We could be serious about every subject without harm. But, unfortunately, life does not meet that criterion. There is no line of work, no endeavor, no institution, no achievement, no failure that doesn’t have its ludicrous or ridiculous aspects and to recognize that simple lesson is a first step toward maturity.
Alan Alda, better known as Hawkeye of Mash fame, contends
that “to be playful about the most serious things is a trait of the most dedicated person.” He insists that “to kid authority is to humanize it” and to endow it with “a strength that rigidity will never give it.” He suggests that such an approach is a “mark of closeness and involvement, not antagonism.” He may have been rationalizing his own rather irreverent attitudes. But there is a great deal of truth in what he says.
I must emphasize that 1 do not mean just the ability to appreciate a joke or tell a good story. In my book, a man who cannot make fun of himself does not have a sense of humor. A genuine sense of humor oils the gears of personal relationships, lends perspective to complex problems, and above all, helps to keep you sane when the world closes in—and it will close in at times.
It is hard to believe that it has been four decades since my own graduation. For me the years of following the flag, literally around the globe, have been full of challenge, and in the end they have brought me quite unexpected responsibilities. Now I am the last one of my class—826 strong—on active duty. Those years included a great deal of conflict and crisis for my country—they spanned Korea, Vietnam, and all gradations
of troubled peace. Nevertheless:
- Our people are still free, and prospering.
- The prospects for the future spread of democracy are bright.
- Hopeful peoples around the globe still look to the United States of America for inspiration and help.
- The enemies of freedom have been more often thwarted than successful, and their star is in decline.
My class has played a significant role in that drama both in peace and war. Two of my classmates were POWs in North Vietnam for over seven years; two are Medal of Honor winners; 34 attained flag or general rank; many are chief executive officers or heads of their own companies; and one served as president of our nation. The list could go on and on.
Your class will likewise be heavily involved in shaping U. S. foreign and military policy and every aspect of our national life over the next 40 years. It will be an exciting journey, and I envy the prospects and challenges you will face. President Lincoln, in the Civil War, used to tell his generals, “Gentlemen, always remember, when you are in the field, you are the Republic.”
That is no less true for the Class of 1986—You are the Republic.
those
tn the sciences and engineering.
goal of 1984-85, which was simply to raise the
J3 that technically minded applicants would no longer !°y an advantage: records were searched for distin- 'shed academic achievement in secondary school, in technical and non-technical fields; and, a specially eloped interest inventory questionnaire was used to 0P°' ^ose with remarkable aptitude in either engineering in MC[1]luman*t*es- The Class of 1989 selected their majors tut' arCf1 ^6, limited only by the resources of the insti- 10n, in a proportion of humanities to engineering of out 30:70. The Academy was challenged to establish n ers of academic excellence in the humanities to rival
e new freedom to choose creates a conception of the cpa maj°r as unrelated to the duties of a junior offi- r‘ however, the completion of an academic major is s,SeatIa! for intellectual maturity: Major requirements ^ ouid include in-depth study of a chosen discipline, in- latH8 practice in its methods. Learning that unarticu- s, assumptions can determine research findings takes a j ent beyond knowledge to the dawn of wisdom, pro- :e ;Cfln8 a healthy skepticism that can be transferred to subS Ur,dreamed of during the undergraduate years and Ve hs owner for a lifetime. If the conception of the the^ff "av’n8 no bearing on junior officer duties is correct, uh burden of preparing junior officers for immediate . ^ must be borne by the core program required of all refo^'Pmen. This realization goes far beyond the modest
P^stige of the humanities at the Academy.
ties 6 faculty eommittee initially designed a core humani- requirement composed of courses from all four depart- vnts that would have expanded the minimum effort de- ho CtJ l° humanities from 24 or 27 to 39 semester credit suUrs' Unless midshipmen were required to attend every sj rnmer school, its adoption would have required congres- fo°nal Iegislati°n to lengthen the Academy program from r^tjr to four and a half years. The committee was told to Uce the total humanities effort to 33 hours, and then a°wn to 30.
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The parade dress of these midshipmen and the academic robes of the author reflect the intellectual and professional dimensions of the Academy curriculum. Yet, despite au already rigorous schedule, the Brigade is encouraged to attend productions of the performing arts, through the Cultural Affairs Program.
Evaluating Sail Training
By LCdr Dexter S. Bryce, USN, and Col. Richard M. Evans, USMCR (Ret.)
The Chief of Naval Operations recognized a need for structured sail training for Naval Academy midshipmen in 1979. The Naval Academy currently has 28 sailing craft for cruising and racing offshore, and another two dozen
To be closer to the sea, midshipmen can sail Luders yawls for their summer cruises.
sail training craft are assigned to NROTC (Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps) units. The sail training cruise has become a major option for the midshipman summer cruise.
Since 1981, the Director of Professional Development has been responsible for the Academy’s offshore sail training and the traditional plebe sailing indoctrination. The commanding officer of the Naval Station, Annapolis, as commodore of the Naval Academy Sailing Squadron, continues to be responsible for intercollegiate competition in sailboards, dinghies, and larger craft, local and offshore racing in larger yachts; and boat maintenance. The Athletic Department conducts intramural sailing competition.
The Offshore Sail Training Squadron (OSTS) was formed in the Professional Development Division at the Naval Academy in 1983 to train midshipmen under sail. In 1984, members of the OSTS included officers assigned to the Naval Academy who were experienced offshore sailors; even more officers with less experience, training to sail offshore; and midshipmen who had requested a summer sail training cruise. The training syllabus is organized around the Navy Offshore Sail Training Manual, published by the Chief of Naval Education and Training.
Two different types of 1984 summer cruises were compared in an evaluation of the program: regular offshore sail training cruises, and cruises in yard patrol craft (YP) or other “gray ships’ of the fleet.
The offshore sail training cruises involved a squadron of nine Luders yawls on round-trips to Bermuda. Former varsity racing craft also completed three cruises. There was daily training during the three-week summer cruises, so the crews could complete the specified personnel qualification standards. Successful completion resulted in qualification as crewman for third class mid-
enrolled in technical majors. To increase the requirement meant that some other requirement had to be abandoned, which could threaten accreditation of the major program. The professional curriculum was then streamlined for more maneuvering space.
More important than the core course increase to 30 semester hours was the reorganization of the humanities requirement, effective for the Class of 1989. Rather than choosing from a smorgasbord—which tended to expand those classes perceived as less demanding—the new requirement is for:
► Four foundation courses; two plebe English classes, including composition, and two plebe history courses
- Three survey courses; naval history and two other courses from two of the other four departments: economics, English, languages, and political science
- Three “focused electives,” defined as three courses from a single department or three courses chosen from one of nine interdisciplinary areas of concentration. These nine areas range from “Ideology and Ethics” to “Developing Nations and the Third World.” Four of the nine include foreign languages.
Technical major programs after the common plebe (freshman) year have been rearranged so that there is 4
njr-watc*1 captain for first class fjcN, 'P™®. ar|d senior skipper for of- UnS' , yawl squadron experienced to RUa extreme weather on its way st0ermuda; encountering a force-10 civil'1 S'mdar t0 the one that sank the ^Uin taH ship Marques that summer, the ycar.aPter these summer cruises, ca,^aniCipatin8 tnidshipmen were lo- naire ant* aS^ed t0 out question- lead >S assess’n8 ten aspects of Navy Outf,S [P’ training, and seamanship, spon'l ! 6 151 midshipmen who recnee C dlose who had the sail experi- ‘theSseVa’’la,eC* t*le'r PercePtions of
seama^h,” helmsmanship-” and “my 'hose i, significantly higher than Tile. q ° t00^ 'he gray ship cruises, as „,Sdl grouP perceived these concepts ,n aCtive and Potent, who a Spec'al contrast of midshipmen ■hos'CXper'enced the force-10 gale and ferenW )0 did not, no significant dif- This CCS Were l°und in their responses, cm:,^PPorts the argument that coastal Cruis!ng 'S aS va'uab'e as offshore
nair^ ab°U! lhc same time the question- sea nWUS 'ssued’ *he 1985 summer-at- SamPr°gram was under way, and the mid htlUest'onnaire was used to assess DerirL1Pmen 'n a more controlled, ex-
senuhn‘al design' This time- the OSTS g0stc yawls on coastal cruises to
263 °n’ °r t0 t*le Bahamas. There were who^Ue,St'onnaires: 127 issued to those cruis h •ed’ and to ^ose who |ar rcC ‘n gray ships. There were simi- ‘u ts to the previous survey, but the 1985 study showed that perceptions of “stress at sea” and “hardship at sea” were significantly altered by the sail experience.
It is not surprising that sail training makes the concepts of helmsmanship and seamanship more active and potent than they are for those who have not had this experience. Watch standing in a cruising sailboat is a vigorous and tiring activity. Twenty minutes in a following sea will fatigue anyone at the helm. The firsthand experience in all aspects of cruising—changing sails, rigging, repairing, provisioning, locating charts, navigating, cooking, trying to stay dry—are daily occurrences.
And the meaning of “the sea” certainly becomes more real—waves seem much larger and wetter down in a 44- foot boat than in a larger ship high above the water’s surface.
What is more difficult to understand is the finding that those who cruised in sailboats also evaluated these concepts about the sea more positively than those who did not have to expend all this effort on their cruise. Why would anyone perceive the sea and seamanship as highly potent and active, yet show great love for the accompanying strenuous activities? Perhaps the answer can be found in our rich nautical literary heritage.
As a result of the 1985 study, we can be pretty sure that midshipmen’s concepts about seamanship are affected by the type of summer cruise they experience. Those who cruise under sail evaluate helmsmanship and seamanship more favorably than those who cruise in gray ships.
The need for alternative cruises will continue. The NROTC program has expanded, increasing the number of midshipmen requiring billets for first and third class cruises. Sail training cruises will provide more meaningful opportunities for the midshipmen to get to sea in the summer.
In the future, there will be a replacement sail training craft for the Naval Academy’s aging fleet of Luders yawls, which are rapidly approaching the end of their design service life. A 44-foot cutter has been designed specifically as a sail training craft providing the most efficient training for midshipmen. The first probably will be delivered in 1987. Identical craft eventually will be available to both the Naval Academy and selected NROTC units.
Lieutenant Commander Bryce taught Seamanship and Navigation at the U. S. Naval Academy while serving as the Assistant Director of the Offshore Sail Training Squadron. He was Officer in Tactical Command of the yawl fleet that sailed to Boston in the summer of 1985.
Dr. Evans is a retired Marine Corps aviator who is now a psychologist with the Naval Training Systems Center in Orlando, Florida. He was a visiting professor in the Department of Leadership and Law at the Academy, and earned his Senior Skipper sail rating on the 1985 yawl cruise. He is currently directing a project designed to evaluate NROTC sailing.
bunlanities Gass chosen for each semester, instead of stcad 'n^ tbe reclu'rements. Besides giving every student a sthde^ exposure to humanities, this enables technical |an>nts who have validated a first course in a foreign (So^, age t0 continue language study from the third class (Th . °IT10re) year on as the focused humanities elective. Ru°. Academy currently offers study in five languages: Th*111 <”*1*nese’ German, French, and Spanish.) t0rc Academy created honors programs in English, his- ac'ad ec.onorn'cs’ and political science, each having stiff atj0r)eilllc requirements for entry, continuation, and gradu- • Admission is by departmental invitation. Distinguished visiting faculty members enrich the coursework. Some seminars are offered solely for honors students, but honors students also attend regular classes. Honors students are required to write substantial senior theses, and to defend them orally. Students in honors courses—and honors students performing extra work in regular courses— receive an extra credit hour, giving them an advantage in class standings. Upon graduation, successful honors students receive appropriate designations on their diplomas.
Secretary Lehman awarded a new faculty billet to each of the four departments concurrent with launching their honors programs, so the honors effort would not steal faculty energy away from regular students. The Secretary also committed new resources to Nimitz Library, to support advanced study in the four disciplines. More resources have been requested for both the library and other honors activities beginning in 1988—centers of excellence are not built cheaply.
The excitement of planning for the honors programs, which begin this fall, has raised the spirits and morale of the faculty in the four departments involved. If the new programs and requirements are successful, the phrase “bull department” may disappear from the Bancroft Hall vocabulary.
Can the curricular changes of 1984-1985 be viewed as a milestone on a long journey? The answer lies in the degree of sensitivity on the Academy’s part to technological change in the Navy. Both combat command and daily naval management, for example, increasingly depend on computers. Beginning this fall, each plebe will acquire a personal computer that he can take to the fleet upon graduation, just as plebes of an earlier era acquired slide-rules. Soon', all of the personal computers will be linked by an Academy-wide network. Naval officers must be familiar with the terminal, understanding the capacities and limitations of computers and programs. The goal is general computer literacy and experience, not the mastery of a particular machine, which could easily be obsolete when delivered.
Automatic data processing is only one example of the rapid pace of technological change in the fleet. The variety, sophistication, and rapidity of change in fleet equipment precludes technological specialization by midshipmen. During the 1920s, midshipmen performed loading drills on five-inch guns in sheds along the Severn River. They did so with confidence that five-inch guns would actually be used in the next naval conflict, whenever it might come. Academy graduates of the 1980s are likely to command orbiting laser beams and other exotic weapons contemplated by the Strategic Defense Initiative— weapons that do not now exist.
Technological training centered on state-of-the-art equipment will rapidly become obsolete. Education in basic scientific principles, such as electronics, metallurgy, fluid dynamics, thermodynamics, and others, should provide officers with the ability to adapt their understanding to changing technology. Every combat branch or community the Academy graduate may elect to enter will first send him to school for training in current equipment and techniques. The newly minted ensign is no longer considered ready for immediate useful duty, anywhere in the fleet.
A new standing committee called the Mission Accomplishment Review Committee (MARC) will consider recommendations made by the ten-year re-accreditation inspection team sent to the Academy in 1985 by the Middle States Association of Schools and Colleges. The 1985 accreditation report was generally positive, but admonished the Academy to strive for a careful balance between training and education, and expressed distress that few midshipmen learn foreign languages, while even fewer study non-Western cultures. MARC is also empowered to conduct a zero-based review of the curriculum.
In the fall of 1985, MARC began reviewing the Physf cal Science major. Although 16% of the Class of 198° majored in Physical Science, MARC found that the major fails to foster intellectual maturity. The major will no longer be available, beginning with the Class of 1990In addition to the Middle States report, the focus of MARC’s attention has been upon the total Naval Academy program. As part of its zero-based review, MARC is e*" amining the midshipman’s busy academic schedule, along with the professional and technical curriculum, the educational impact of summer cruises, and the performance o recent graduates. The completion of MARC’s review, and the formulation of specific proposals, will require several months to several years. The results could redesign the humanities requirement yet again.
Any conflict over the scope of humanities in the Naval Academy curriculum is not a revival of the contest between Athens and Sparta. The inculcation of the values ot integrity and accountability, the understanding of leadership, and loyalty to service and country are the purposes of the military and athletic programs centered in Bancrot Hall. These values are not exclusively Spartan; arguments over the content of the academic curriculum may he viewed as creative tensions within the Athenian side of the combination.
The Academy curriculum can no longer be driven strictly by technological imperatives: The education of a naval officer must reach beyond technology itself to un understanding of the consequences of technology- 1 should include an understanding of our nation, which the Navy exists to defend. As many officers as possible should understand other cultures—particularly the non- Western—which establish the strategic environment m which the Navy operates. Above all, the education of a naval officer must achieve intellectual maturity to alio''' him or her to function effectively despite the complex an perplexing interrelationships between peoples, nations, and ideologies that characterize the modern world.
‘Quoted in Jack Swectman, The U. S. Naval Academy: An Illustrated Historl (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1979), pp. 16-17. ,g
2Author’s interview with Admiral Kinnaird R. McKee, Crystal City, Virginia. December 1985.
Dr. Lamb graduated from Yale in 1954, and was commissioned a Secoa Lieutenant in the U. S. Army Reserve. His active duty was deferred as was awarded a Rhodes Scholarship. In 1957, he received a Doctorate o Philosophy in Politics from Oxford, and returned to the Army to aaa' the rank of Captain eventually. Dr. Lamb served on the faculty ol University of Michigan and the University of California at Santa Cr before being appointed by Secretary Lehman to his current post as Aca demic Dean of the U. S. Naval Academy. Dr. Lamb is the author o coauthor of six books, the most well-known entitled As Orange Twelve California Families and the Future of American Politics, and most recent being The Guardians: Leadership Values and the Amertc Tradition.