June 1981

SPAN 2 Human Rights in U.S. Foreign Policy

by Alexander M. Haig

4 "An Arms Race Is Not to Our Interest"

5 The Making of a Marginal Farmer

by Wendell Berry

10

Farm Techniques for the '80s

14

The Importance of the Earthworm

by Steven Bridgens

16

Cowboys Are Forever

by Sandy Greenberg

20 Bounty From the Land

24

The Rediscovery of Luminism

by Barnaby Conrad III

29 Advice to a Young Scientist

by Peter B. Medawar

32

The Family in Transition Promilla Kapur Talks With Tamara Hareven

36

An Indian Actor From America: Tom Alter

39 On the Lighter Side

40

The Iceberg Cometh by w.F. Weeks and Malcolm Mellor

46

Who's in Charge When a President Is Out of Action?

by John B. Holway

48

Manifestations of Shiva

Assistant Managing Editor Editorial Staff

Krishan Gabrani Aruna Dasgupta, Manu Sahi, Nirmal Sharma, Murari Saha, Rocque Fernandes

Photo Editor

Avinash Pas richa

Art Director

Nand KatyaI

Art Staff Chief of Production Circulation Manager Photographic Services

B. Roy Choudhury, Kanti Roy Awtar S. Marwaha A.K. Mitra ICA Photographic Services Unit

Photographs: Front cover Susan Lohwasser. Inside front cover-The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Emily C. Chadbourne Fund, 1973. I top-Asian Art Museum orSan Francisco; The Avery Brundage Collection. 5-7- Tanya Berry. 11 bottom-courtesy Rodale Press Inc. 121eft-Chrislopher Springmann. 14-George Snyder, State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry. 16-19 -Skeeter Hagler. 21 -Matt Bradley. 22 top-Joseph J. Scherschel; bottom -James P. Blair, both copyright Š National Geographic Society. 23- Thomas Nebbia, copyright Š National Geographic Society. 32-Richard Saunders. 37 top-Subrata Patranobis; bottom -courtesy M.S. Sathyu. 38 -courtesy Satyajit Ray. 42-43 -Drawings used with permission from Technology Review, copyright 1979 by the Alumni Association of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. 43 left-lames R. Holland, courtesy National Geographic Society. Inside back cover and back cover-Geeti Sen.

Published by the International Communication Agency. American Center, 24 Kast,urba Gandhi Marg. New Delhi I 1000J. on behalf of the American Embassy. New Delhi. The opinions expressed in this magazine do not necessarily reflect the views or policies of the United States Government.

Printed by H.K. Mehta at Thomson Press (India) Limited. Faridabad. Har)ana.

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2 rupees 75 paise. For change of address. send an old address from a recent SPAN envelope along with new address to Circulation Manager. SPA N Magazine, 24 Kasturba Gandhi Marg, New Delhi 110001. See change of address form on page 48b.

Front cover:,Harvest time, as usual, finds California vineyards lush with grapes.

But these grapes-and most of American farm produce today-are the result of new techniques which blend high technology and traditional methods.

See pages 5~23 for stories on U.S. farming.

Back cover: Brahmani Dancing, a centuries-old medieval sculpture, is part of the Indian art collection at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. See also page 49.

In March of this year, a most unusual exhibition of India"nart, the first of its kind, opened at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. It wa.s a comprehensive investigation of Indian art through a major theme, that of the Hindu god Shiva--the great creator, destroyer, and teacher of all the arts.

The "Manifestations of Shiva" exhibit (page 48) is the result of the exhaustive research and sensitive planning of the renowned historian of Indian art, Stella Kramrisch. The exhibit is supported by generous grants from a number of sources both public and private: the U. S. National Endowment for the Humanities, the Atlantic Richfield Foundation, the Pew Memorial Trust, Air-India, and the Indo-U .S. Subcommission on Education and Culture. It has been acclaimed by critics and visitors alike as an outstanding' presentation, one that will promote a greater understanding in the United States of Indian culture.

The August issue of SPANwill have color pictures of some of the exhibit's 200 images of Shiva --stone sculptures, bronzes and paintings, including major loans from collections in India, Europe and the United States. ~~~~

Contemporary family life in India and the United States is the subject of an animated discus~ion between two experts: Dr. Tamara Hareven and Promilla Kapur.

Both women have studied and written about the problems of the family in transition as a social unit in their respective societies. They examine such questions as: Does industrialization inevitably le\d to a breakdown in traditional family relations? How important are economic factors in relations between parents and children? Does social security necessarily imperil children's support of aged parents? Are higher divorce rates and unmarried cohabitation an indication of a decay in societyor of its liberalization? The discussion between the two experts is both informative and thoughtful. ~~~~

The lowly earthworm ha s been maligned by poets and other persons of refined sensibility. "Man spurns the worm! cried Byron. Shakespeare in one of his sonnets lamented his fated departure "from this vile earth with vilest worms to dwell." But Ralph Waldo Emerson, with his characteristic penetration, could see that the worm too would have his furn: There s no god dare harm a worm.

Indeed, agriculturists now tell us that the lowly: earthworm can be of great benefit to humankind: by aerating the soil, by turning large amounts of organic garbage into precious fertilizer--and, a s food prices continue to rise, by serving as an important source of protein for poultry and cattle. Enterprising readers may want to look into the possibilities of starting earthworm farms in India, such as have become popular in the United States (liThe Importance of the Earthworm," page 14). Aren't they lovable creatures squirming in the palm to the right?

--M. P. II

II

I

II

HUMAN RIGHTS In recent years, doubts have been raised about our ability to do great things. It is said that we lack will-the will to defend ourselves, to take pride in our achievements, to work and hope for the future. Even though we have the resources-so the argument goes-we cannot draw upon them because we have lost faith in ourselves.

The national or individual will is one of those things that no one talks about until it is missing and once it is missing, no amount of talk will ever bring it back.

Last November, responding to President Ronald Reagan's call, the American people demonstrated clearly their rejection of the notion that nothing much could be done because we lacked the will to do it. The problem is not will but confusion, not lack of strength but lack of clarity. Nowhere in our foreign policy is this more obvious than on the issue of human rights. ) The controversy over American foreign policy and human rights concerns four questions: Firstfy, is our concern for human tights in other countries compatible with the pursuit of America's national interest?

Secondly, how does our foreign policy reflect our concern for human rights?

Thirdly, how should we treat violators of human rights?

And the fourth question, how can we advance human rights in the world today?

Unless we can answer these questions, we cannot speak of a human rights policy. And the way we answer these questions tells us a great deal about how we view ourselves as a people and the problems we face today in international affairs.

Let me deal first with the question of whether a concern for human rights is . compatible with the pursuit of America's natiGnal interest. My answer to tois is a resounding "yes." The supreme American national interest is simple and compelling: We want a world hospitable to our . society and our common ideals. As a

practical matter, our national interest requires us to resist those who would extinguish those ideals and are hostile to our common aspirations.

Moreover, a crucial relationship exists between human rights of the individual, the humane practice of society and the humanity of the political system. Among widely recognized ideals held in many countries are three principles of which we are especially proud: • Respect for the sanctity of the individual and his conscience.

• Government by the consent of the governed.

• Government by law, not personal whim.

We continue to strive to perfect these ideals. It is in our national interest to do so and to give our example to the rest of the world. Human rights are therefore not only compatible with our national interest, they are an integral element of the American approach-at home and abroad.

How does our foreign policy reflect our concern with human Tights? The answer to this question is to be found in a clear understanding of the role of foreign policy. Foreign policy springs from a nation's self-expression; it reflects and therefore expounds a nation's ideals. But the development and execution of foreign policy must be rooted in the world of reality even as it is nourished by national ideals.

One aspect of reality is that we have

A four-day-old infant is carried from a crowded boat of Cuban refugees upon arrival at Key West, Florida. To escape political persecution, some 300 people jammed the vessel as it sailed from the port of Mariel near Havana.

neither the power nor the desire to remake the world in our own image. As John Quincy Adams said, America is the friend of liberty everywhere, but the custodian only of its own.

We wish that every people could enjoy liberty as we enjoy them. the blessings But there are limits to what we can or should do to transform other cultures, customs and institutions.

At the same time, we confront another aspect of reality. The Soviet Union and its allies-countries that reject our concepts of human rights-continue to enlarge their military power and seem increasingly inclined to use their arms to advance their cause.

Unlike the Soviets, we are not going to deprive peoples of their dignity and choice. Nonetheless, we are not prepared to see the world remade by others hostile to our deepest convictions, convictions held by civilized societies everywhere.

We cannot stand back as if we were an island unto ourselves, observing international aggression from a safe distance.

Our resistance to this aggression and our assistance to its victims constitutes a defense of human rights that is at the very basis of our foreign policy and our national interest.

or

"The United States," notes the Secretary of State, "opposes the violation of hmnan rights by ally or adversary, friend or foe."

IN U.S. FOREIGN POLICY

The third question about human rights itself absolute authority in only a few resisting aggression and supporting the and foreign policy concerns the violation politically sensitive areas. I am not making evolution of more humane societies. of human rights and how to treat the a case for the excellence of authoritarian In conclusion, let me summarize our violator. Let us be clear on one issue: government; I am making the case that position.

The United States opposes the violation such regimes are more likely to change • Concern for human rights is compatiof human rights by ally or adversary, than their totalitarian counterparts. It ble, indeed integral to our national interfriend or foe. We are not going to pursue should be our objective to hold forth est: We have great principles to defend and a policy of "selective indignation." ourselves as a model worthy of imitation a great example to give the world.

The difficulty here lies not in the fact as that change occurs and to help the • Human rights remains a major focus of violation itself, which must always be . evolution of authoritarian government of our foreign policy, especially when we are beset today by the overriding issue of opposed, but how to assess the danger of toward a more democratic form. the violation and how best to deal with The respective impact of the authori- how to stem the advance of the enemies of the violator. We should distinguish be- tarian and totalitarian regimes on human human rights. tween the deprivation of national rights rights can be seen in one of the worst • We should not adopt an undifferenthrough aggression and the deprivation tragedies in recent years, the massive tiated attitude toward violations and violaof personal rights through oppression. number of refugees. They have come tors; we should oppose the establishment The former is an international problem mostly from countries under the sway of of totalitarian regimes; we should enof long standing; the mechanisms for Marxist-Leninism. From the Soviet Union, courage the evolution of authoritarian controlling aggression are an imperfect Cuba, Vietnam, Kampuchea, Afghanistan regimes toward a more humane society. but workable association of military have come productive, able citizens • We can advance human rights more strength, self-interest and collective secu- driven from their homes not for a want of effectively than before, through the interity. But the mechanisms for dealing with patriotism but from the sheer intolerance gration of human rights efforts into our regimesthat oppress their citizens are much of their self-appointed rulers. That many diplomacy, pride in our achievements, more rudimentary and unpredictable. In of the refugees seek out the United and defense of our positions. protesting the offensive domestic actions States as a haven remains one of the Under President Reagan's leadership, of a government, we affect the inter- best testimonies that we rank at the very the United States has begun the arduous national situation as well. It is a recurrent top of humane societies in the eyes of process of rebuilding its defenses and tragedy of the human condition-and for- the truly desperate and homeless of the organizing a more robust resistance to eign policy-that the choice of a lesser world. international aggression. A concern for evil is still very evil. It does little good to When dealing with the violation of human rights, bereft of an effective defense remedy the grievances of a few if that individual rights, we must weigh not only posture and strong alliances, is reduced brings down worse oppression on the the international repercussions (does the eventually to a hectoring of those we can influence-our friends-and not those many. regime help or hinder international The point to be made is that we must aggression?) but also the domestic pros- . whose reaction we fear-our adversaries. be discriminating in our actions with an pects (totalitarian or authoritarian), not As we stand on the threshold of the eye to the source of the violation and the only the record of those in power but the last decades of the 20th century, the impact of our protest on the violator. record and program of those in opposi- free communities cannot afford t<;>pass We should distinguish between the so- tion. We have seen in recent years how a the time away in useless discussion of called totalitarian and authoritarian re- policy not informed by these principles will power when the issue is really quite gimes. The totalitarian model unfortucan contribute to the ultimate failure: different: the clear thinking that precedes nately draws upon the resources of modem a collapse of a bulwark against aggres- and guides decisive action. Sir Winston technology to impose its will on all aspects sion, and the replacement of an authori- Churchill.was reported to have remarked: of a citizen's behavior. The totalitarian tarian regime with a totalitarian one or "The enduring problem of international regimes tend to be intolerant at home one that distributes its oppression in relations is that when nations have been and abroad, actively hostile to all we random fashion. Surely we do not have all strong, they have not always been just, represent and ideologically resistant to of the answers here. Still, we must do bet- and when they have sought to be just, political change. ter than we have done in the past. This they have not always been strong." Let The authoritarian regime usually stems means a more precise calculation of how it be said of us that when we were strong, from a lack of political or economic de- our action in treating human rights viola- we were also just, and when we sought velopment and customarily reserves for tors conforms to the larger projectsto be just, we were also strong.

D

"AN ARMS RACE IS NOT TO OUR INTEREST" In a recent address in Geneva, the U.S. Ambassador to the Committee on Disarmament reiterated the United States commitment to reductions in nuclear weapons. But, he added, the United States is not prepared to freeze through agreement a situation in which there is imbalance favoring the Soviet Union.

Reflecting on what has been said about the dangers of relying on a balance of nuclear power to maintain the peace, I would be the first to admit that the world could breathe easier if there were no nuclear weapons in existence, although the dangers from modern conventional weapons, which are themselves appalling enough, would still be with us.

But nuclear weapons do exist. Until we can find and agree upon a sure means of eliminating them, without jeopardizing the security of any state or group of states, they will continue to be a fact of life, and nuclear deterrence must remain a key element in maintaining stability and peace.

What are the alternatives? One course that has been advocated from time to time is unilateral disarmament. If the United States alone were to undertake nuclear disarmament, the result would almost certainly be a major military imbalance. We would all need to ask ourselves, "Whose interests would then be served?" In this regard I would draw your attention to certain remarks in a recent article on Soviet military thought by Professor Major-General A.S. Milovidov of the Lenin Military Academy.

In the article he stated: "The Soviet Union cannot undertake the unilateral destruction of its nuclear weapons and indeed has no right to do so, as it is responsible to the peoples of the whole world for peace and progress. Marxist-Leninists decisively reject the assertions of certain bourgeois theoreticians who consider nuclear missile war unjust from any point of view."

These views on unilateral nuclear disarmament and the role that nuclear weapons play in Soviet military thinking are in stark contrast to some comments on those subjects that have been presented to us here in this committee. They serve to reinforce our grave doubts about the wisdom of unilateral disarmament.

If unilateral disarmament is out, what about unilateral restraint in nuclear armaments? Well, we tried that and the results were not encouraging. In the early post-World War II period the United States was the only nuclear power, and for a long time .after that helped to achieve stability and peace by virtue of its nuclear superiority.

As the Soviet Union eventually brought its nuclear arsenal to a position of approximate parity, the United States decided . that in the long-term -interests of a stable peace, we should not attempt to maintain superiority. Our hope was that this exercise of restraint would persuade the Soviet Union to follow suit.

In this hope we were disappointed. When we curbed and even canceled significant armament programs, the Soviet Union continued to build up in all spheres. Some examples: • The Soviet Union has continued to strengthen its ground

and air forces in Europe. In the last 15 years Soviet military manpower has increased by about one million men. Some 25 divisions have been added to Soviet ground forces, and all divisions have been upgraded in capability and firepower.

During the same period, the tanks in the numerous Soviet divisions in Eastern Europe and the Western part of the Soviet Union have been replaced with new, modernized and improved tanks-in most cases more than once. Some 1,400 aircraft have been added to the inventory of Soviet frontal aviation. Many of these new aircraft are designed for deep strike missions, bringing more of Western Europe into Soviet tactical range.

• The Soviet Union has also in recent years deployed the Backfire bomber, which carries more weapons than older bombers and which, because of its greater range, can reach .all of Western Europe, vital sea lanes, and even the United States.

• Soviet naval capabilities have also been expanding rapidly on a global basis; new warships have been built and deployed at an unprecedented pace during recent years.

• The Soviet Union has continued to build up its nuclear missile forces in Europe. Some years ago, the Soviet Union began deployment of the SS-20 intermediate-range nuclear missile. In the past year alone, some 80 new SS-20 launchers have been deployed. This missile is qualitatively superior to its predecessors: it is mobile, it has greater range, and it carries not one but three accurate warheads. .In the last 15 years, the Soviet Union has more than quintupled the number of its strategic nuclear delivery vehicles. In recent years, primarily through the deployment of three new Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM) systems, the Soviet Union has expanded the number of weapons these vehicles can carry by a factor of II. All of these programs, along with other examples I have not included, have naturally caused the Soviet military budget to swell. It is a measure of the differenl,emphasis on military efforts in the Soviet Union and the United States during the past decade that the cost of Soviet military activities, measured in dollar terms, was some 40 percent higher. than that of the United States; in 1980 Soviet outlays were 50 percent higher.

It was only after it became clear in late 1979 that there were no alternative means of maintaining the balance that preserves the peace that plans for a North Atlantic Treaty Organiz~tion (NATO) military response to these developments were decided upon and announced.

Even now, more than a year later, the programs contemplated in the NATO plans to strengthen its nuclear posture in Europe will not come to fruition for some years. When the Soviet Union attempts to justify, retrospectively, its own arms buildup on the basis of this necessary defensive response on the part of NATO, it is a hollow and unbelievable justification.

The NATO plans are a response to a Soviet buildup which in large measure has already taken place, such as the development to which I referred earlier-the deployment of more than 180 nuclear-tipped SS-20 missiles. The NATO Alliance has no equivalent systems to match the land-based, long-range theater (Text continued on page 45)

Reverting to traditional methods of farming, a Kentucky poet-farmer, shown below with his team of horses, finds abundant reward in reclaiming a marginal farm-despite such setbacks as a severe land "slip" (left) caused by previous abuse of the valley.

TBI.AIIIG or 4 MARGIIAL rO.IR

O

ne day in the summer of 1956, leaving home for school, I stopped on the side of the road directly above the house where I now live. From there you could see two kilometers or so across the Kentucky River Valley, and perhaps 10 kilometers along the length of it. The valley was a green trough full of sunlight, blue in its distances. I often stopped here in my comings and goings, just to look, for it was all familiar to me from before the time my memory began: woodlands and pastures on the hillsides; fields and croplands, wooded slough edges and hollows in the bottoms; and through the midst of it the tree-lined river passing down from its headwaters near the Virginia line toward its mouth at Carrollton on the Ohio.

Standing there, I was looking at land where one of my greatgreat-great-grandfathers settled in 1803, and at the scene of some of the happiest times of my own life, where in my growingup years I camped, hunted, fished, boated, swam and wanderedwhere, in short, I did whatever escaping I felt called upon to do.

It was a place where I had happily been, and where I always wanted to be. And I remember gesturing toward the valley that day and saying to the friend who was with me: "That's all I need."

I meant it. It was an honest enough response to my recognition of its beauty, the abundance of its lives and possibilities, and of my own love for it and interest in it. And in the sense that I continue to recognize all that, and feel that what I most need is here, I can still say the same thing.

And yet I am aware that I must necessarily mean something different-or at least a great deal more-when I say it now.

Then I was speaking mostly from affection, and did not know, by half, what I was talking about. I was speaking of a place that in some ways I knew and in some ways cared for, but did not live in. The differences between knowing a place and living in it, between cherishing a place and living responsibly in it, had not begun to occur to me. But they are critical differences, and understanding them has been the chief necessity of my experience since then.

I married in the fol1owing summer, and in the next seven years lived in a number of distant places. But, largely because I continued to feel that what I needed was here, I could never bring myself to want to live in any other place. And so we returned to live in Kentucky in the summer of 1964, and that autumn bought the house whose roof my friend and I had looked down on eight years before, and with it "twelve acres more or less."

Thus began a profound change in my life. Before, I had lived according to expectation rooted in ambition. Now I began to live according to a kind of destiny rooted in my origins and in my life. One should not speak too confidently of one's "destiny"; I use the word to refer to causes that lie deeper in history and character than mere intention or desire. In buying the little place known as. Lanes Landing, it now seems to me, I began to obey these deeper causes.

We had returned so that I could take a job at the University of Kentucky in Lexington. And we expected to live pretty much the usual academic life: I would teach and write; my "subject matter" would be, as it had been, the few square kilometers in Henry County where I grew up. We bought the tiny farm at Lanes Landing, thinking that we would use it as a "summer place," and on that understanding I began, with the help of two carpenter friends, to make some necessary repairs on the house.

I no longer remember exactly how it was decided, but that work had hardly begun when it became a full-scale overhaul. By so little our minds had been changed: This was not going to be a house to visit, but a house to live in. It was as though, having put our hand to the plow, we not only did not look back, but could

not. We renewed the old house, equipped it with plumbing, bathroom and oil furnace, and moved in on July 4, 1965.

Once the house was whole again, we came under the influence of the "twelve acres more or less." This acreage included a steep hillside pasture, two small pastures by the river, and a' "garden spot" of less than half an acre. We had, besides the house, a small barn in bad shape, a good large building that once had been a general store, and a small garage also in usable condition.

This was hardly a farm by modern standards, but it was land that could be used, and it was unthinkable that we would not use it.

The land was not good enough to afford the possibility of a cash income, but it would allow us to grow our food-or most of it.

And that is what we set out to do.

In the early spring of 1965 I had planted a small orchard; the next spring we planted our first garden. Within the following six or seven years we reclaimed the pastures, converted the garage into a henhouse, rebuilt the barn, greatly improved tHe garden soil, planted berry bushes, acquired a milk cow-and were

The Kentucky River winds past the Berry's Lanes Landing Farm.

The family added plumbing and insulation to the house (center), and uses the outbuildings for food storage and winter feeding.

producing, except for hay and grain for our animals, nearly everything that we ate: fruit, vegetables, eggs, meat, milk, cream and butter. We built an outbuilding with a meat room and a food-storage cellar. Because we did not want to pollute our land and water with sewage, and in the process waste nutrients that should be returned to the soil, we built a composting privy.

And so we began to attempt a life that, in addition to whatever else it was, would be responsibly agricultural. We used no chemical fertilizers. Except for a little rotenone, we used no insecticides.

As our land and our food became healthier, so did we.

We were not, of course, living an idyll. What we had done could not have been accomplished without difficulty and a great deal of work. And we had made some mistakes and false starts.

But, at the same time, there was great satisfaction, too, in restor-

ing the neglected land, and in feeding ourselves from it.

Meanwhile, the 40-acre place adjoining ours on the downriver side had been sold to a "developer," who planned to divide it into 114 lots for "second homes." This project was probably doomed by the steepness of the ground and the difficulty of access, but a lot of bulldozing-and a lot of damage-was done before it was given up. In the fall of 1972, the plact3was offered for sale and we were able to buy it.

We now began to deal with larger agricultural problems.

Some of this new land was usable; some would have to be left in trees. There were perhaps 15 acres of hillside that could be reclaimed for pasture, and about two-and-a-half acres of excellent bottomland on which we would grow alfalfa for hay. But it was a mess, all of it badly neglected, and a considerable portion of it badly abused by the developer's bulldozers. The hillsides were covered with thicket growth; the bottom was shoulder high in weeds; the diversion ditches had to be restored; a bulldozed gash meant for "building sites" had to be mended; the

barn needed a new foundation, and the cistern a new top; there were no fences. What we had bought was less a farm than a reclamation project-which has now, with a later purchase, grown to 75 acres.

While we had only the small place, I had got along very well with a Gravely "walking tractor" that I owned, and an old Farmall A that T occasionally borrowed from my Uncle Jimmy.

Blit I could not continue to depend on a borrowed tractor. For a while I assumed that I would buy a tractor of my own. But because our land was steep, and there was already talk of a fuel shortage-and because I liked the idea-T finally decided to buy a team of horses instead. By the spring of 1973, I had found and bought a team of five-year-old sorrel mares. And-again by the generosity of my Uncle Jimmy, who has never thrown any good thing away-Thad enough equipment to make a start.

T

hough I had worked horses and mules during the time I was growing up, T had never worked over ground so steep and problematical as this, and it had been 20 years since I had worked a team over ground of any kind.

Getting started again, I anticipated every new task with uneasiness, and sometimes with dread. But to my relief and delight, the team and I did all that needed to be done that year, getting better as we went along. And over the years since then, with that team and others, my sonand-I have carried on our farming the way it was carried on in my boyhood, doing everything with our horses except baling the hay. And we have done work in places and in weather in which a tractor would have been useless. Experience has shown us-or reshown us-that horses are not only a satisfactory and economical means of power, especially on such small places as ours, but are probably necessary to the mostconservative use of steep land. Our farm, in fact, is surrounded by potentially excellent hillsides that were maintained in pasture until tractors replaced the teams.

Another change in our economy (and our lives) was accomplished in the fall of 1973 with the purchase of our first woodburning stove. Again the petroleum shortage was on our minds, but we also knew that from the pasture-clearing we had ahead of us we would have an abundance of wood that otherwise would go to waste-and when that was gone we would still have our permanent woodlots. We thus expanded our subsistence. income to include heating fuel, and since then have used our furnace only as a "backup system" in the coldest weather and in our absences from home. The horses also contribute significantly to the work of fuel-gathering; they will go easily into difficult places and over soft ground or snow where a truck or a tractor could not move.

As we have continued to live on and from our place, we have slowly begun its restoration and healing. Most of the scars have now been mended and grassed over, most of the washes stopped, most of the buildings made sound; many loads of rocks have been hauled out.of the fields and used to pave entrances or fill hollows; we have done perhaps half of the necessary fencing.

A great deal of work is still left to do, and some of it- the rebuilding of fertility in the depleted hillsides-will take longer than we will live. But in doing these things we have begun a restoration and a healing in ourselves.

I should say plainly that this has not been a "paying proposition." As a reclamation project, it has been costly both in money and in effort. 'It seems at least possible that, in any other place, I might have had little interest in doing any such thing.

The reason I have been interested in doing it here, I think, is that

I have fell' implicated in the history, uses and attitudes that have depleted such places as ours and made them "marginal."

I had not worked long on our "twelve acres more or less" before I saw that such places were explained almost as much by their human history as by their nature. I saw that they were not "marginal" because they ever were unfit for human use, but because in both culture and character we had been unfit to use them. Originally, even such steep slopes as these along the lower Kentucky River Valley were deep-soiled and abundantly fertile; "jumper" plows and generations of carelessness impoverished them. Where yellow clay is at the surface now, a meter and a half of good soil may be gone. I once wrote that on some of the nearby uplands one walks as if "knee-deep" in the absence of the original soil. On these steeper slopes, I now know, absence is shoulder deep.

That is a loss that is horrifying as soon as it is imagined. It happened easily, by ignorance, indifference, "a little folding of the hands to sleep." It cannot be remedied in human time; to build a meter and a half of soil takes perhaps 50,000 years. This loss, once imagined, is potent with despair. If a people, in adding 150 years to itself, subtracts 50,000 years from its land, what is there to hope?

And so our reclamation project has been, for me, less a matter of idealism or morality than a kind of self-preservation. A destructive history, once it is understood as such, is a nearly insupportable burden. Understanding it is a disease of understanding, depleting the sense of efficacy and paralyzing effort, unless it finds healing work. For me that work has been partly of the mind, in what I have written, but that seems to have depended inescapably on work of the body and of the ground. In order to affirm the values most native and necessary to me-indeed, to affirm my own life as a thing decent in possibility-I needed to know in my own experience that this place did not have to be abused in the past, and that it can be kindly and conservingly used now.

With certain reservations that must be strictly borne in mind, our work here seems to have begun to offer some needed proofs.

Bountiful as the vanished original soil of the hillsides may have been, what remains is good. It responds well-sometimes astonishingly well-to good treatment. It never should have been plowed (some of it never should have been cleared), and it never should be plowed again. But it can be put in pasture without plowing, and it will support an excellent grass sod that will in turn protect it from erosion, if not overgrazed.

Land so steep as this will not support a commercial, brokenfield agriculture. To subject it to such an expectation is simply to ruin it, as its history shows. Our rule, generally, has been to plow no steep ground, to maintain in pasture onty such slopes as can be safely mowed with a horse-drawn mower, and to leave the rest in trees. We have increased the numbers of livestock on our pastures gradually, and have carefully rotated the' animals from field to field to a void overgrazing. Our hillsides ha ve mended and they produce more and better pasturage every year.

As a child, I always intended to be a farmer. As a young man, I gave up that intention, assuming that I could not fami and do the other things I wanted to do. And then I became a farmer almost unintentionally and by a kind of necessity. That wayward and necessary becoming-along with my marriage, which has been intimately a part of it-is the major event of my life. It has changed me profoundly from the man and the writer I would otherwise have been.

There was a time, after I had left home and before I came back, when this place was my "subject matter." I meant that too, I think, when I told my friend, "That's all I need." I was

regarding it, in a way too easy for a writer, as a mirror in which I saw myself. There was obviously a sort of narcissism in that -and an inevitable superficiality, for only the surface can reflect.

In coming home and settling on this place, I began to:ive in my subject, and to learn that living in one's subject is not at all the same as "having" a subject. One's relation to one's subject ceases to be merely emotional or aesthetical, or even merely critical, and becomes problematical, practical and responsible as well. Because it must. It is like marrying your sweetheart.

Though our farm has not been an economic success, as such success is usually reckoned, it is nevertheless beginning to make \l kind of economic sense that is consoling and hopeful. Now that the largest expenses of purchase and repair are behind us, our income from the place is beginning to run ahead of expenses.

As income I am counting the value of shelter, subsistence, heating fuel, and money earned by the sale of livestock. As expenses I am counting maintenance, newly purchased equipment, extra livestock feed, newly purchased animals, reclamation work, fencing materials, taxes and insurance.

Contrary to some people's opinion, it is possible for a family to live on "marginal" land, to take a bountiful subsistence and some cash income from it, and, in doing so, to improve both the land and themselves.

If our land had been in better shape when we bought it, our expenses would obviously be much smaller. As it is, once we have completed its restoration, our farm will provide us a home, produce our subsistence, keep us warm in winter, and earn a modest cash income. The significance of this becomes apparent when one considers that most of this land is "unfarmable" by the standards of conventional agriculture, and that most of it was producing nothing at the time we bought it.

And so, contrary to some people's opinion, it is possible for a family to live on such "marginal" land, to take a bountiful subsistence and some cash income from it, and, in doing so, to improve both the land and themselves. (I believe however that, at least in the present American economy, this should not be attempted without a source of income other than the farm. It is now extremely difficult to pay for the best of farmland by farming it, and even "marginal" land has become unreasonably expensive.

To attempt to make a living from such land is to impose a severe strain on land and people alike.)

I said earlier that the success of our work here is subject to reservations. The first is that land like ours-and there are many acres of such land in the United States-can be conserved in use only by competent knowledge, by a great deal more work than is required by leveler land, by a devotion more particular and disciplined than patriotism, and by ceaseless watchfulness and care. All these are cultural values and resources, never abundant in this country, and now almost obliterated by the contrary values of the "affluent society.-' One of my own mistakes wi.! suggest the difficulty. In 1974 I dug a small pond on a wooded hillside that I wanted to pasture I should have occasionally. The excavation for that pond-as anticipated, for I had better reason than I used-caused the

hillside to slump both above and below. After six years the slope has not stabilized, and more expense and trouble will be required. A small hillside farm will not survive many mistakes of that order. Nor will a modest income.

The true remedy for such mistakes is to keep from making them. It is not the piecemeal technological solution that our society now offers, but a change of cultural (and economic) values that will encourage in the whole population the necessary respect, restraint and care. Even more important, it is the possibility of settled families and local communities, in which the knowledge of proper means, methods, moderations and restraints, can be handed down, and so accumulate in place and stay alive; the experience of one generation is not adequate to inform and control its actions. Such possibilities are not now in sight.

The second reservation is that we live at the lower end of a watershed that has long been intensively used, and is increasingly abused. Strip mining, logging, extractive farming, and the digging, draining, roofing and paving that go with industrial and urban "development," all have seriously depleted the capacity of the watershed to retain water. This means not only that floods are higher and more frequent than they would be if the watershed were healthy, but that the floods subside too quickly, the watershed being far less a sponge, now, than it is a roof.

The floodwater drops suddenly out of the river, leaving the steep banks soggy, heavy and soft. As a result, great strips and blocks of land crack loose and slump, or they give way entirely and disappear into the river in what people here call "slips."

The flood of December 1978, which was unusually high, also went down extremely fast, falling from bank top almost to pool stage within a couple of days. In the aftermath of this rapid "drawdown," we lost a block of bottomland an acre square.

This slip, which is still crumbling, severely damaged our place, and may eventually undermine two buildings. The same flood started a slip in another place, which threatens a third building. We have yet another building situated on a huge (but, so far, very gradual) slide that starts at the river and, aggravated by two state highway cuts, goes almost to the hilltop. And we have serious riverbank erosion the whole length of our place.

What this means is that, no matter how successfully we may control erosion on our hillsides, our land remains susceptible to a more serious cause of erosion that we cannot control. Our riverbanks stand literally at the cutting edge of America's consumptive economy. This, I think, is true of many "marginal" places-is true, in fact, of many places that are not marginal.

In its consciousness, ours is an upland society; the ruin of watersheds, and what that involves and means, is little considered.

And so the land is heavily taxed to subsidize an "affluence" that consists, in reality, of health and goods stolen from the unborn.

Living at the lower end of the Kentucky River watershe~ is what is now known as "an educational experience" -and not an easy one. A lot of information comes with it that is severely damaging to the reputation of our people and our time. From where I live and work, I never have to look far to see that the earth does indeed pass away. But however that is taught, and however bitterly learned, it is something that should be known, and there is a certain good strength in knowing it. To spend one's life farming a piece of the earth so passing is, as many would say, a hard lot. But it is, in an ancient sense, the human D lot. What saves it is to love the farming.

About the Author: Wendell Berry is a poet, writer, teacher and proponent of small-scale farming. His publications include The Country of Marriage and The Unsettling of America:¡ Culture and Agriculture.

Progress in the field of American agriculture today means more than technology. It may even mean gOIng back to some old and tried methods. For today's farmer must not only meet a growing food demand but also face the challenge of spiraling energy cost and be on guard against threats to the environmen t.

Agricultural scientists have come to his aid with a variety of tools and techniques-from the lowly earthworm to sophisticated computer technology.

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The Green Revolution of the 1960s was the result of high-yielding, but energy-intensive, strains of rice, wheat and other crops. Today's energyconserving compulsions have thrown up a new concept: that it is better to modify the plant to suit the environment than vice versa. Using tissue culture breeding, scientists are reproducing new plant varieties tailor-made for specific environments. (The genetically engineered plant at left and the greenhouse on the facing page are both part of these experiments.)

Scientists can now develop a mutant, stress-resistant plant that might not occur naturally for 10,000 years -if at all. Dr. Tejpal Gill of the U.S. Agency for International Development says tissue culture breeding compresses the evolutionary process by doing "what nature has done over thousands of years ... in a few months in the laboratory."

First a tiny piece of plant is used to grow millions of identical plant cells (clones) in a laboratory culture. The clones are then subjected to various types of stress by adding salt, creating nutrient imbalances, high or low temperatures, or drastically reducing water. These stresses kill 98 percent of the cells. Hormone stimulants are added to the remaining 2 percent to make these rare cells grow and divide until they form an entire culture. Once they grow roots and leaves, they are planted.

The surviving crop flourishes under what are normally considered adverse growing conditions-land at one time nol arable can be brought under cultivation.

Scientists say that international tissue culture labs could be set up to help farmers around the world. If India, for example, wants to introduce maize into an "unsuitable" area, the lab could develop a line of maize tailored to that environment.

The use of chemical fertilizers, pesticides and heavy machines on U.S. farms has gradually been wearing out and compacting the soil, increasing the risk of soil erosion. To stave off such a disaster, farmers have begun to use natural fertilizers and new methods of cultivation to revitalize the soil. The proponents of organic farming, as this "natural" reaction against chemicals is called, claim results that are startling. In fact even the most conservative critics, who once scoffed at it as something only young radicals would do, now admit that organic farming has some merit.

The overriding reason: economics.

Skyrocketing costs and limited supplies of energy are constantly pushing up prices of fertilizers, pesticides and herbicides-all fuel-based products.

Environmentalists find another benefit in organic farming: its capacity to work with nature, instead of against it.

During the past 50 years, most farmers have paid little attention to the soil's organic content. Their attitude has been that the soil is simply there to hold the plant while farmers feed it chemical nutrients. The organic farmer, on the other hand, believes that by keeping the soil in good condition, the plants will pretty much take care of themselves.

The organic farmer uses a four-point "natural" system. He follows good soil-conservation practices; substitu tes manure and crop rotation for fertilizers; controls weeds and pests through extra cultivation and reliance on wildlife and beneficial insects. And he plows with a shallow chisel plow (which is sufficient for his soil as it is rich in organic matter and easily plowable) rather than the deep-cutting moldboard, thus barely scratching the surface instead of turning the soil over. (See SPAN, November 1979.)

Conventionally, anyone who discovers bugs in an orchard, simply sprays the orchard to kill them. But agriculturists in the United States have discovered a better way to control pests as an alternative to the indiscriminate use of harmful chemicals: integrated pest management (IPM). Agricultural consultants like Patrick Weddle (seen above gathering pests and bugs for analysis) study pests' relationship to plants closely before advocating the best way to control them, preferably without the use of chemicals.

For the last few decades, American farmers, like their counterparts all over the world, have been using massive amounts of synthetic pesticides to raise crop output. The results, as they are now realizing, have not all been happy.

Apart from the ecological damage, there has been counterproductive pest infestation. While farmers now use over 10 times the insecticides they used 30 years ago, nearly twice as much of their crops are destroyed before the harvest. After three decades of pesticide use, the pests are prospering.

IPM methods range from sophisticated techniques of biological control to some simple changes in farming practice.

Farmers are now controlling some insects by releasing sterile males into

their populations to prevent reproduction, and monitoring others by trapping them with artificial pheromones (scents that mimic the insects' sex attractions). Another IPM method farmers use to protect crop is the release of bacterial, viral or fungal diseases and insects or predators and parasites which attack only specific pests. Experiments are also being conducted with synthetic hormones that keep insect larva from maturing into plant-eating adults.

Equally ingenious are the new farming techniques that IPM advisers recommend. For example, cotton crops have been protected from pests that prefer alfalfa by planting strips of alfalfa as a decoy crop among rows of cotton.

Farmers have outwitted bugs by delaying the planting of a crop long enough to ensure that the pests mature before the crop does (and so find little to feed on) or by switching to a crop with a shorter growing season.

Similarly farmers have modified irrigation, fertilization and many other practices. The U.S. Department of Agriculture estimates that by 1986 IPM may be used on over 40 million hectares of American cropland, and this could result in annual pesticide savings of some $1,000 million.

Some 28 years ago, American farmer Frank Zybach invented a machine that has revolutionized agricultural irrigation. It consists of a series of sprinkler nozzles mounted on a IS-centimeter pipe supported by seven mobile towers that rotate about a central point. Water is pumped into the pipe from a well at the center of the field, and the towers move the system in a circle. Over the years several changes have been made in the original design. The mobile towers are today usually powered by electric or hydraulic motors that can be reversed, and the systems can be operated clockwise or counterclockwise. Large rubber tires have replaced the old steel wheels.

The major advantage of this system is that it allows the automatic watering of large fields without backbreaking labor. Secondly, it is so designed that a farmer can apply small amounts of water every few days. Such light and frequent application greatly increases the productivity of coarse or sandy soils, with a low water-holding capacity.

Approximately 12 hours is the minimum time required to make a circular traverse; two to three days is more normal. A farmer usually applies about 2.5 centimeters of water for each revolution of the pivot. The water comes from irrigation wells and is pumped from underground aquifers

at about 3,400 liters per minute.

A third advantage of this system is that by applying fertilizers through the water supply line, nutrients can be administered selectively and timed for the crop's needs. This cuts the amount of fertilizers used and reduces runoff.

Once usable only on flat terrain, the system now adjusts itself to rolling fields too. All these factors have led to its adoption in 40 American states, Libya, France, Australia, Hungary, the Middle East and the Soviet Union.

One problem of the center-pivot system is the amount of energy needed to pump water. Farmers in Nebraska, where the system originated, have taken the help of a scheduling program. Data from local weather stations is fed into a computer network to calculate the amount of evapotranspiration for each crop daily and to monitor the soil's moisture content. When transpiration reaches a certain point, the computer advises the farmer to apply water. Such precise timing means less water and less energy are used. The saving in water is an estimated 18 centimeters by each farmer per year. Nebraska farmers achieved an annual energy saving of $8 million in diesel fuel costs by using scheduling program over 400,000 hectares. Cutting excessive irrigation reduced the leaching of nitrogen from the soil, saving another $5 million.

Researchers have only recently begun to rediscover the earthworm's role in soil fertility. Ancient civilization recognized its merit: Queen Cleopatra decreed the earthworm a sacred animal. As late as the 19th century, scientist Charles Darwin said that few animals "played so important a part in the history of the world as these lowly organized creatures." Twentiethcentury researchers have found that introducing earthworms into the soil can boost crop yields: wheat yields can double, grass yields quadruple, and clover yields multiply tenfold.

Soils without earthworms usually become dense and compact, thus discouraging plant growth. But soils rich in earthworms remain loose, giving the soil a much better capacity to retain air and water. The earthworm's constant burrowing, mixing and digesting turn organic waste into fertilizer and garbage into soil nutrients. The worm itself has possibility as a high-protein livestock feed additive.

Today 90,000 earthworm ranchers are raising and selling earthworms in the United States. Below, a commercial earthworm grower prepares a compost pit for a layer of organic matter which the earthworms will convert into castings that can be used in gardens, farms and orchards as an excellent fertilizer. Earthworms will enter the compost from the soil and will multiply rapidly as they lace it with castings.

(Turn the page for a complete story on the use of the earthworm in farming.)

From speeding delivery of machinery parts to monitoring weather, computers are aiding the American farmer in several ways. Above, data programmer Kay Wain reads a computer printout of soil evaluation for crop use, while James Duke, director of the U.S. Department of Agriculture Medicinal PJi:intResource Laboratory, examines some of the weeds used in the study.

Time is usually of crucial importance for farming operations and the computer helps avoid delays. It has been particularly successful in speeding delivery of service parts to farmers. American farmers can get needed spare parts within two days-in fact, 75 percent of the time within one hour.

A computer terminal helps track an item not in stock.

Computers are being put to several other uses now. By priming the computer with data about the soil and growing conditions of his land, a farmer can find out the optimum time for planting or the estimated return on investment if he expands his farming area. Computerized milk records help tailor cattle feeds to the cow's production ability. Even the value of a farmer's own management time is being enhanced by computerized financial records and business analysis. 0

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The lowly and often maligned earthworm has long been renowned as nature's best fishing bait. But only recently have many people begun to recognize the earthworm's true value as a vital component of fertile soil and as an efficient converter of organic wastes into valuable resources.

Agricultural researchers have shown that introducing large numbers of earthworms into agricultural land doubles the yield of wheat, increases the yield of grass four times, and multiplies clover yields tenfold.

Henry Hopp, a noted U.S. agricultural scientist, found that earthworms in poor soil boosted the yield of herbal plants more than 10 times. In experiments with millet, lima beans, soy beans and hay, Hopp also proved that the addition of live earthworms increased yields much more than the addition of dead worms did, showing that it is the action of live earthworms, rather than just the nutrients in dead worms, that enhances soil productivity.

The excrement or "castings" of earthworms, which consists

Agricultural scientists in the United States are turning to the lowly earthworm for increasing farm yields and as a source of protein for poultry and cattle. largely of digested soil and particles of organic matter, is more chemically neutral than the surrounding soil. So by consuming soil, processing it, and excreting the remainder as castings, sufficient numbers of earthworms help keep a field closer to the

neutral pH range (that is, neither alkaline nor acidic). Soil that is excessively acidic or alkaline can inhibit the growth of plants and microbes.

Earthworms also transport minerals and subsoil compounds from deep in the soil, where they

can languish beyond the reach of shallow root systems, to an area near the soil's surface. In the process the earthworms often transform these compounds into nutrients that plants can use much more readily. Chemical analysis of earthworm castings shows that they can contain up to two times as much available magnesium, five times as much available nitrogen, seven times as much available phosphorus, and eleven times as much available potassium as the surrounding soil.

The passage of soil through the earthworm's gullet also greatly promotes bacterial growth. In particular; actinomycetes, bacteria that create humus, thrive in the presence of earthworms. The content of actinomycetes in castings is six to seven times greater than in the original soil.

Through their constant burrowing, mixing and digesting, earthworms significantly improve the composition of the soil. Henry Hopp found that after only three days of earthworm action, test soils contained over 50 percent more large

aggregates-clumps of silt, clay and sand particles formed in the earthworms' guts. These aggregates, an essential component of productive soil, remain well aerated and resist erosion.

Soils without earthworms usually become dense and compact, thus discouraging plant growth. But soils rich in earthworms remain loose, giving the soil a much larger capacity to retain air and water. Hopp determined that earthworms introduced into a test plot for a month increased the rate at which the soil could absorb water by 350 percent.

The improved soil structures brought about by earthworms help plants develop longer and more penetrating roots. J.A. van Rhee, a Dutch researcher, has found that in orchards "trees that had 800 earthworms placed around them grew heavier root systems than did trees in soils without worms."

Because of the earthworm's ability to create fertile soil, naturally productive areas are often found to teem with earthworms. Sven O. Heiberg, a researcher at the New York State College of Forestry, writes that "in good forest mull ... between 2.5 and 5 million earthworms are found per hectare weighing about one ton; their castings may amount to 37 tons per hectare per year."

The same benefits that befall agricultural applications of earthworms are also found in more natural ecosystems. H.E. Zrazhevskii, a Soviet forestry researcher, has reported that earthworms in forest soil increase the growth of 2-year oak seedlings by 26 percent and of green ash seedlings by 37 percent.

"There is no doubt," writes Heiberg, "that earthworms are the most beneficial animals in forestry. " In 1974, Americans produced 100 million tons of residential and commercial trash, 7 million tons of sludge and 2,000 million tons of agricultural by-products.

If earthworms were allowed to turn the organic part of these "wastes" into valuable castings, the stress on America's already overburdened solid-waste disposal system would greatly ease.

When organic wastes from human consumption are mixed with sewer sludge and animal manure, the earthworms can really get down to work. In one California experiment, 8,300 kilograms of biodegradable refuse (after removal by hand of 820 kilograms of nonbiodegradable refuse), composed of materials ranging from phone books to grass clippings, were 50 percent consumed in 38 day3 and 80 percent consumed in 68 days.

Today over 90,000 earthworm ranchers are raising and selling earthworms in the United States alone. Thousands of families are profiting from the environmentally beneficial activities of improving soil, breaking down wastes, producing valuable castings, and increasing the total biomass of earthworms capable of working for humankind.

Almost every household can, with a little training, capital, hardware, and time raise enough earthworms for an organic garbage transformer. Most growers use either the red worm, Lumbricus rubellus, or the manure worm, Helodrilus foetida.

With only about 20,000 earthworms living in a 1.5-meter x 1.5-meter x 1.3-meter box in the backyard or basement, a family of 4 can process all of its kitchen wastes and much of its clippings from the yard.

On a slightly larger scale, a bed 2.4 meters x 1.2 meters x .3 meters holding approximately 100,000 worms can annually convert between 270 kilograms and 540 kilograms of organic matter into rich, useful castings.

These castings can then go into gardens, farms and orchards as an excellent organic fertilizer.

Recently several large-scale applications of earthworm composting have begun operating

in the United States, Canada and Japan as a supplement to existing solid-waste processing systems. Donald F. Gaddie, president of North American Bait Farms, points out in his book Earthworms for Ecology and Profit that, though still in its infancy, industrial earthworm processing has made a strong beginning: The first commercial annelidic or earthworm consumption facility was established in Canada in 1970 and is currently processing about 75 tons per week of biodegradable refuse. There are now in Japan four such annelidic consumption facilities processing about 10 tons per day primarily for specialized manufacturing wastes.

Gaddie also believes that the industry has the potential for considerable growth in the future: A 200-ton-per-day facility would require less than 100 acres [40 hectares] of land to operate (land which would never fill up, as in conventional land-fill operations), and [such] a facility could be established for less than $5,000,000, including land, equipment, and starting stock of earthworms. Since the earthworms do virtually all of the work of continually turning and aerating the refuse, the only energy consumed is in laying down the refuse originally and picking up the castings, and in providing perimeter lighting for the worm rows.

Already, North American Bait Farms has begun developing an earthworm-composting plant that could process refuse for a city of up to a million people. As population pressures and ecological limitations continue to grow, plants such as this could offer an economical and sensible means of waste disposal.

The American press has I recently given much publicity to the possibility of using earthworms as a source of human protein. In fact, despite most people's squeamishness, several contests for recipes using earthworms have been held in Canada and the United States.

Dried earthworms consist of up to 72 percent protein by weight, depending on the species. Even more important, earthworms contain certain

amino acids that other forms of protein often lack. The amino acid arginine makes up 10.07 percent of worm protein; this is twice the percentage of arginine in peanut protein and three times the percentage in anchovies. Triptophan comprises 4.41 percent of earthworm protein, making it four times as plentiful as in blood-meal protein and seven times as plentiful as in protein from beef livers.

Although it may take some time before people grow accustomed to the prospect of eating earthworms, they are already being added to poultry and pet food in some countries.

Poultry nutritionists have estimated that the higher amounts of certain amino acids in earthworms could reduce the costs of feed grain for poultry farmers by as much as 70 percent. As for fowl: West Virginia researchers, questioning why quail do so much less foraging for grains than other birds, now suspect that the large proportion of earthworms in the quail's diet lowers their need for amino acids from other sources.

Despite the important advances made so far, much research remains to be done on the potential for using earthworms to aid agriculture, ecologically dispose of wastes and provide a direct source of protein. But the information and tools for an individual or a family to put earthworms to work are already available. One way is to feed household wastes to earthworms, which will then enrich the soil so that it will produce more food for the family table.

The earthworm forms a small but very important link in the chain of life. As nature's alchemists and grist mills, they transform dead organic matter into powerful living soil. By helping them to prosper, humankind can help to save itself.

0 About the Author: Steven Bridgens has grown earthworms and written extensively about them.

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Romanticized for a century in song, story and cinema, the cowboy is one of the United States most enduring folk heroes. Seen as rugged and courageous, the cowboy personifies the spirit of adventure and freedom, of the lone individual and the open prairie.

And today?

According to western artist and occasional working cowboy Tom Beeler:

"There's a code of the cowboy way of life. You know, being a good horseman, kl;lowing your business and going about your business quietly and not boasting, being honest and direct with people.

They're dedicated. They're not in it for the money. It's a pride, a way of life.

They're doing a job and living up to it."

To find out more about how and why cowboys do what they do, the Dallas

Times Herald Sunday Magazine recently went to three ranches in West Texas.

The Pitchfork Ranch, founded in 1883 and covering 65,000 hectares, shares a fenceline with the 84,000-hectare 6666 Ranch on the rolling plains east of Lubbock. Some 150 kilometers to the north, the JA Ranch covers 72,000 hectares of Palo Duro Canyon in the Texas.

Panhandle.

And what did they find?

With progress have come pickup trucks, horse trailers, chemical baths for removing ticks, butane-fueled branding fires, vaccination guns, and helicopters for herding. But-in the age of computers and increasing scientific and technological innovations-the cowboy continues to work much as his father and grandfather did.

Roping, branding and herding cattle on horseback are still a part of the daily life of the cowboys on the Sixes, JA and Pitchfork. So are the dust, dirt, everpresent chance of injury, and the just plain bone-jarring hard work. The cowboy's basic trappings-boots and spurs, hat, horse, saddle, rope, chaps, bandanna-have been the same for generations, although today his shirt and

Above: A cowboy from the Pitchfork Ranqh takes part in a popular evening pastime-honing his roping skills for contests which are a common sport in small towns in the Southwest.

Center: Well-worn proof of the cowboy's rugged lifestyle-chaps (leather leggings) hanging on a horseshoe of the Four Sixes Ranch, insignia and a pair of shoes with patches on the patches. Far left: Frank Menix, who like many other cowboys today is also a helicopter pilot, uses a copter for herding.

jeans may be wash 'n' wear.

Today's cowboy is often married, with children, living in a rent-free, modern three-bedroom home on the ranch where he works, watching TV or attending PTA (parent-teacher) meetings in the evening. If he's single, the cowboy generally shares a sparsely furnished bunk house, eating his meals in the ranch cook house, and practicing his roping skills in the evening.

Gone are the days of the chuckwagon and sleeping on the ground near a dying campfire with a saddle for a pillow.

But the differences are external; in his head, today's cowboy is much like his predecessor of yesteryear. Explains 1,1. Gibson, manager of the Sixes Ranch and his own nearby: "Cowboys are an independent bunch. We cowboy because we want to, because we love it.

Most of us have never wanted to do

anything else. We're fortunate to be working at jobs we like, because there are a lot of people doing jobs they don't like."

There may be a lot of people doing jobs they don't like, but Erwin H. "Skeeter" Hagler isn't one of them.

A staff photographer for the Dallas Times Herald, Hagler, 32, spent 10 days on the three ranches doing something he'd wanted to do for a long time, a

photographic essay on the cowboy.

A graduate of the University of Texas with a degree in architecture, Hagler gradually discovered he likeet photography better than architecture. After working for The Waco News-Tribune and The Fort Worth Star-Telegram, he joined the Times Herald in 1974.

Awards have been coming his way almost since he started his photographic career.

And now Skeeter Hagler's photographs have won him the Pulitzer Prize, journalism's highest honor.

Calling Hagler's photographs "superb," Arthur Rothstein, director of photography for Parade Magazine and one of five Pulitzer photography judges, said, "1 felt he was the o.utstanding feature photographer because of the quality of his work, the sensitivity to a way of life that is fast disappearing in this country,"

According to Will Jarrett, managing editor of the Times Herald: "Skeeter's photographic essay on cowboys reminds one of the great western artists .... They have a timeless quality to them.',' Skeeter Hagler described his Pulitzer Prize-winning photographs as "pretty simply trying to show the lifestyle of the Texas cowboy. The pictures were there waiting on you. These guys were classic-looking. How could you miss?" 0 , Above, left: Cowboys relax in a pickup truck.

Above: Round-up time finds them herding cattle much as their great grandfathers did. Some ranches, however, combine old and new methods; in the picture at left, center, cowboys on horseback and helicopter move a herd across a ranch. Far left: Following another cowboy tradition, Butch Morris smokes a cigarette he has rolled himself Left: 81-year-old Tom Blasingame has been a cowboy since 18.

BOUITYFBO. TBB LAID

A small percentage of Americans live in rural areas. An even smaller number are farmers. But this minority has worked hard to reap a rich bounty from the land-for Americans and the world. The United States continues to be the granary of the world, the largest exporter of food. In the following pages, SPAN presents a few random glimpses of the American agricultural scene.

Above: Millions of hardy seedlings in neat rows are given attentive care in a tree farm nursery. From here they are transplanted to big forests.

Facing page: Cucumbers pour into a

vatfor pickling in Arkansas. Farmers in the United States produce more cucumbers for pickles than for the fresh vegetable market. A recent ratio was 628,100 tons to 276,900 tons.

Above: Engulfed by a sea of corn (maize), a farmer pulls a picker in Illinois, which vies with the neighboring state of Iowa as the United States largest corn-producing state.

Right: As his wife delivers his lunch pail, a farmer empties corn from his combine on the family farm in Iowa in the American midwest. Corn is the United States most valuable and widely grown crop.

Right: The bright colors on this field in Oceanside, California, belong to beds of rununculuses and anemones.

Bulbs and cutflowers.are sent all over the world from here.

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The Rediscovery of Lumi

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Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the Wilderness, 1860.

Oil on canvas, 102 x 162cm.

The Cleveland Museum 0/ Art purchase, Mr. {md Mr:s. William H. Marlatt/und.

IPh Waldo Emerson captured the spirit of 19th-century American promise in verse, and the American luminist painters expressed it in spacious and light-blessed paintings.

America still seems to be discovering itself today, when one realizes that luminism-the most important movement in 19th-century American art-was virtually unstudied until 30 years ago. Recent happenings have vaulted this school into the spotlight: A new auction record of $2.5 million was set in New York by Frederick Edwin Church's The Icebergs; and the major exhibition of 300 luminist works entitled "American Light" opened at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. Art patrons might now take a moment to reflect on the group of painters who saw America as a God-given Eden resplendent with natural virtue, and who responded in kind.

What is luminism? The term was coined in 1954 by critic John I.H. Baur to designate a group of mid-19th-century artists who shared a common interest in the rendering of subtle and poetic effects of light on landscape and seashore in a manner that is peculiarly American. Most luminist paintings capture a sense of still- . ness, of arrested motion and of timelessness. There are no visible brushstrokes in the painted surface, nothing to betray the artist as intermediary between the original subject and the framed canvas.

Key members of the movement were artists who painted the eastern seaboard and New England at the time of pre-Civil War (1861-65) optimism and the germination of the American character: Fitz Hugh Lane, John Frederick Kensett, Martin Johnson Heade, Sanford Robinson Gifford and Frederick Edwin Church.

Thomas Cole, a luminist forerunner, once said, "The wilderness is yet a fitting place to speak of God." In his Essay on American Scenery, he argued that one should study American scenery for pleasure and for edification. For Cole and the other landscape painters, American vistas were unique because they did not bear the scars of decayed civilizations or encourage meditation on the past. "We are still in Eden," Cole would declare, prophesying what the western pioneers must have felt on looking over the vast prairies blackened for miles with herds of buffalo.

Fitz Hugh Lane (1804-1865) is generally acknowledged as the premier luminist painter, although it would be false to say that he was the leader of the school, since unlike the French impressionists who had the Paris cafe scene to draw them

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together, few of the luminists ever met, and they never exhibited as a group. Lane grew up in Gloucester, Massachusetts, and learned lithography in Boston, where, in the 18808, he first saw the work of Scottish artist Robert Salmon.

The era in which the luminists worked was dominated by the idea of measurement and scientific exploration, and these painters were scrupulous in rendering natural detail and the clarity of light on water. Emerson wrote, "We wan t the Exact and the Vast, we Want our dreams and our Mathematics." One feels this credo echoed in the luminist landscapes where the detailed foreground offsets an almost infinite horizon. Although there is no evidence that Lane read or knew Emerson, they lived in the Boston area concurrently, and Lane's painting, perhaps merely inspired by contemplation of the same stretch of seacoast, closely parallels Emerson's sentiment: Standi'ng 6~ ha;e ground~my head batted by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite 'space'-all mean egotism vanishes, I become a transparent eyeball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or parcel of God.

Luminism was an attitude as well as a technique or result, a contemplation of light as an attitude as well as a unifier.

Looking at these pictures one is intensely aware of a quality of thereness.

Objects like boats, rocks and the mirrorlike surface of bays and ponds are faultlessly rendered in detail, transfixed by the light rather than disintegrated by it as in impressionistic painting.

Lane, visiting a friend in Maine who had a book by the influential English critic John Ruskin, almost certainly absorbed Ruskin's theories on symmetry in nature and "the balance of harmonious opposites." But what if he didn't? What if the inspiration for the exquisite pictures came directly from the landscape he had before him? There is a freshness to some of Lane's and Kensett's paintings reminiscent of the American folk painters and limners, and yet theirs is also a kind of all-seeing intelligence.

Another luminist, Martin Johnson Heade (1819-1904), in fact received his early training in Lumberville, Pennsylvania, from the dean of American folk painters, Edward Hicks. Heade knew Kensett and was inspired by some of his late work, but it is unclear whether Heade ever met Lane, despite the fact that the artists were working close to each other along Boston's North Shore.

Twelve years younger than Lane, John Frederick Kensett was reared in Connecticut and gained his first art experience in New Haven, Connecticut, as an en-

graver, a profession in which preclSlon was a matter of course. Like many ambitious American painters, Kensett went to Europe for several years of study and later crossed the Atlantic repeatedly on cultural forays. When the first resort hotels and cottages were c,onstructed along the coast, they provided civilized accommodations for artists, with unspoiled scenery just around the bend.

Kensett painted Long Island Sound .and, during the decade of the 1860s, the rocky promontories of Newport, Rhode Island.

Here he found the shifting densities of atmosphere and light to his liking and painted locales under different weather conditions, as did Heade in the swamps of Newburyport, Massachusetts.

Frederick Church (1826-1900), a good friend of Heade, was really more a Hudson River school painter or romantic naturalist than luminist; nevertheless, he is an important figure to reckon with

Ralph Albert Blakelock The Sun, Serene, Sinks into the Slumberous Sea. Oil on canvas 40 x 50cm.

Museum of Fine Arts, Springfield, Massachusetts.

Bequest of Horace P. Wright.

in the luminist movement. Church was Cole's only formal pupil in the midl840s and learned to see nature as Cole did, both as a symbolic heavenly symphony and as a place for man to take dominion. As Church matured he abandoned old-world conventions so that in 1857 his painting Niagara, on a canvas twice as large horizontally as vertically, offered a new way of painting American landscapes. Many other painters would be influenced by Church, and western landscapists like Albert Bierstadt would adopt luminist techniques to render the natural wonders of America from the mid-continent to the Pacific coast.

Sanford Robinson Gifford (1823-1880)

painted the mountain ranges in northeastern United States, but also visited Europe, Greece and Egypt, searching for different kinds of light. Visiting Greece late in life, Gifford painted The Ruins of the Parthenon and wrote, "I broke my shins among the marble fragments of the Parthenon, and drowned my eyes in the exquisite blue of the Aegean and the lovely hues of the Pentelicus and Hymettus." The view of the Parthenon was his last major painting, and on his death at age 57, a former colleague wrote, "Gifford loved the light. His finest impressions were always those derived from the landscape when the air is charged with an effulgence of irruptive and glowing light."

Emerson, the American philosopher best known for identifying the union of God and man through the contemplation of nature, has described himself as a vehicle through whom the "currents of the Universal Being" might circulate.

One has only to look at a Lane or the frozen stillness of a Kensett seashore to understand the fusion of external and internal reality, of the sublime and the ordinary.

In important essays entitled Nature (1836) and The American Scholar (1837), Emerson wrote of the sign.ificance of observing horizons, acknowledging the reflections of sky on mirrored water, and the link between mental states and moments in nature: "There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is the poet."

The luminist pamtmgs had their genesis in the American sense of becoming, of developing into a wholeness of nation-and partaking of a vast, beautiful fate. Americans of this time experienced, as Emerson himself claimed, "A new sense of consciousness .... Men grew reflective and intellectual." One thinks of

the themes of authors Nathaniel Hawthorne (1804-64) and Herman Melville (l8l9-9l)-abstraction, meditation and symbolism-and sees them again in the incandescent twilights of Heade, Gifford and Church, which burn scarlet like stained glass windows.

By the l870s luminism began to lose its impact, diffusing its glow into the impressionism of Homer Dodge Martin, George Inness and James McNeil Whistler on one hand; and into the realism of Thomas Eakins, Winslow Homer, and, much later, Edward Hopper and Charles Sheeler on the other.

In his catalogue essay from the "American Light" show, curator John Wilmerding eloquently closes the door on the luminist movement with this comment on Eakins: "His masterful early outdoor views on the Schuylkill River in Philadelphia and along the Delaware Bay pay unconscious homage to a light that was irrevocably fading in American art, while setting forth the sober themes for an unsettled national state-of-mind in the late 19th century."

By 1876, America, recovering from a civil war, was 100years old. The luminist movemen t was dispersing, and through the natural paradise came the wail of the steam engine, a cry of progress.

0 About the Author: Barnaby Conrad III is senior editor of Horizon and wri~es frequently on art.

Sanford Robinson Gifford October in the Catskills, 1880.

Oil on canvas 92 x 74 em.

Los Angeles County Museum of Art. Gift of Mr. and Mrs. Charles C. Shoemaker, Mr. and Mrs. J. Douglas Pardee and Mr. and Mrs. John McGreevey.

Winslow Homer The Artist's Studio in an Afternoon Fog. Memorial Art Gallery of the University of Rochester (New York). R.T. Miller fund.

Fitz Hugh Lane Ship Starlight in the Fog. Butler Institute of American Art, Youngstown, Ohio.

ADVICE TO A YOUNG SCIENTIST A Nobel laureate in medicine and physiology talks about the life and manners, the moral dilemma, and the priorities that a young scientist must contend with. "There is nothing about being a scientist," he says, "that need close one's mind to the entreaties of conscience." . can t be said with complete confidence that any scientist of any age who wants to make important discoveries must study important problems. Dull or piffling problems yield dull or

I

piffling answers. It is not enough that a problem should be "interesting" -almost any problem is interesting if it is studied in sufficient depth. A problem must be such that it matters what the answer is-whether to science generally or to mankind.

Scientists considered collectively are remarkably single- minded in their views about what is important and what is not. It is very sad if a graduate student gives a seminar and no one comes or no one asks a question, but not so sad as the question gallantly put by a senior or a colleague that betrays that he hasn't listened to a word.

The number and complexity of the techniques and supporting disciplines used in re~earch are so large that a novice may easily be frightened into postponing research in order to carryon with the procesl' of "equipping" himself. As there is no knowing in advance where a research enterprise may lead and what kinds of skills it will require as it unfolds, this process of equipping oneself has no predeterminable limits and is bad psychological policy: We always need to know and understand a great deal more than we do already and to master many more skills than we now possess. The great incentive to learning a new skill or supporting discipline is an urgent need to use it. For this reason many scientists (I certainly among them) do not learn new skills or master new disciplines until the pressure is upon them to do so; whereupon they can be mastered relatively quickly. It is the lack of this pressure on those who are forever equipping themselves and who show an ominous tendency to become "nightclass habitues" that sometimes makes them tired and despondent in spite of all their diplomas and certificates of proficiency.

Similar considerations apply to a novice's inclination to spend weeks or months "mastering the literature." Too much book learning may crab and confine the imagination, and endless poring over the research of others can sometimes be a research substitute, much as reading romantic fiction may be a substitute

for real-life romance. Scientists take different views about "the literature": Some read veJ;y little, relying upon viva voce information, circulated "preprints," and the beating of tom-toms by which advances in the field come to be known. Such communications are for the privileged, though: They are enjoyed by those who have already made headway enough to hold views others would like to hear. The beginner must read, but intently and choosily and not too much.

It is psychologically important to get results, no matter if they are not original. Getting results, even by repeating another's work, brings with it a great accession of self-confidence: The young scientist feels himself one of the club at last; he can chip in at seminars and at scientific meetings with "My own experience was ... " or "I got exactly the same results" or "I'd be inclined to agree that for this particular purpose medium 94 is definitely better than 93," and then can sit down again, tremulous but exultant.

On life and manners Scientists naturally want to be thought well of and, like other professional men, would like their calling to be respected. They will find from the beginning, however, that upon learning they are scientists, the people they meet tend to adopt one of two opinions, which cannot both be right: because a man is a scientist his judgment on any topic whatsoever is either (a) especially valuable or (b) virtually worthless. These opinions are of that habitual and inflexible kind that we tend to associate with political beliefs and are every bit as difficult to reason with. An attempt should nevertheless be made not to acerbate either condition of mind: "Just because I am a scientist doesn't mean I'm an expert on ... " is a formula for all seasons.

Scientists are assumed to be illiterate and to have coarse or vulgar aesthetic sensibilities until the contrary is proved; however much it may annoy, a young scientist must again be warned against attempting any parade of culture to rebut this

imputation. In any case the accusation is in one respect well founded: I have in mind the total indifference of many young scientists to the history of ideas, even to the ideas that lie at the root of their own research. I have tried at times to excuse this attitude of mind by pointing out that the growth of science is of a special kind and that science does in some sense contain its cultural history within itself; everything a scientist does is a function of what others have done before him.

A most distinguished French historian, M. Fernand Braudel, has said of history that "it devours the present." I do not quite understand what he means, but in science it is surely the other way about: The present devours the past. This does something to extenuate a scientist's misguided indifference to the history of ideas. Yet a person who is not interested in the growth and flux of ideas is probably not interested in the life of the mind, and a young scientist working in an advancing field of research should certainly try to identify the origin and growth of current opinions.

Although self-interest should not be his motive, he will probably end with a stronger sense of personal identity ifhe can see where he fits into the scheme of things.

There is nothing about being a scientist that should or need deafen one or close one's mind to the entreaties of conscience.

Contractual obligations and the desire to do what is right can pose genuinely distressing problems. The time to grapple is before a moral dilemma arises. If a scientist has reason to believe that a research enterprise cannot but promote the discovery of a nastier or more expeditious quietus for mankind, then he must not enter upon it-unless he is in favor of such a course

of action. It is hardly possible that he should recognize his abhorrence of such an ambition the first time he stirs the cauldron.

If he does enter upon morally questionable research and then publicly deplores it, his beating of the breast will have a hollow and unconvincing sound.

If, in spite of the most anxious precautions, a scientist makes a mistake about a matter of fact, if the results were caused by an impurity in a supposedly pure enzyme preparation or if hybrid mice were used in error for mice of an inbred strain, then tile mistake must be admitted with the least possible delay. Human nature is such that the scientist may even gain credit from such a declaration and will not lose face.

Though faulty hypotheses are excusable on the grounds that they will be superseded in due course by acceptable ones, they can do grave harm to those who hold them because scientists who fall deeply in love with their hypotheses are proportionately unwilling to take "no" as an experimental answer. Sometimes, instead of exposing a hyp.othesis to a cruelly critical test, they caper around it, testing only subsidiary implications, or else follow up sidelines that have an indirect bearing on the hypothesis without exposing it to possible refutation.

I cannot give any scientist of any age better advice than this: The intensity of the conviction that a hypothesis is true has no. bearing on whether it is true. The importance of the strength of our conviction is only to provide a proportionately strong incentive to find out if the hypothesis will stand up to critical evaluation.

Poets and musicians may easily think this sadly cautionary advice and characteristic of the spiritless fact-finding they suppose scientific inquiry to be. For them, I guess, what is done in a blaze of inspiration has a special authenticity. I guess also that this is only true where there is .talent bordering upon genius.

On priorities Those who are anxious to discredit scientists-especially the notion (not held by scientists themselves) that their work is a cool, lofty, and dispassionate quest for truth-are fond of calling attention to their anxiety about matters having to do with priority: an anxiety that the work or ideas that the scientist believesto be his own should be credited to him and notto any others.

This anxiety is sometimes thought to be a new one-to be a natural consequence of the obligation upon a modern scientist to hold his own in a crowded and competitive world-but it is entirely clear that disputes over priority, sometimes of a specially venomous and unforgiving kind, are as old as science itself. It is a natural consequence of the fact that when several scientists are trying to solve the same problem, more than one may hit upon a solution -or the solution, if there is only one.

Artists, I suspect, are a little contemptuous of a scientist's anxiety for credit, but then their situation is in no way comparable.

The problems that confront them do not have a unique solution; the 20 years that Richard Wagner spent composing the first three operas of The Ring of the Nibelung were not clouded by the fear that someone else might nip in ahead of him with The Twilight of the Gods.

Whenever pride of possession is an important consideration -especially when the property in dispute is an idea-most people feel a strong sense of ownership. Indeed, anxiety about priority is to be found in all walks of life, I believe, sometimes, as with car or dress designers. It is a matter of securing their livelihood, but sometimes it IS an aggressive arrogance.

Problems having to do with priority are especially acute in science, because scientific ideas must eventually become public property, so that the only sense of ownership a scientist can ever enjoy is that of having been the first to have an idea-to have hit upon a solution or the solution before anyone else. I see nothing wrong in pride of possession, though in a scientific contest, as in any other, possessiveness, meanness, secretiveness and selfishness deserve all the contempt they get.

A scientist who wishes to keep his friends must notbe forever scoffing and so earn a reputation for habitual disbelief; but he owes it to his profession not to acquiesce in or appear to condone folly, superstition or demonstrably unsound belief.

The recognition and castigation of folly will not win him friends, but it may gain him some respect.

Over a period of years I have collected a little treasury of more or less fallacious beliefs, and a discussion of some of these will help to exemplify criticisms of the kind I think just. How often has it not been contemptuously said that "modern medicine cannot even cure the common cold"? What is offensive is not the statement's falsity (it is true) but its implication: Isn't it pointless to pour thousands of millions of dollars into cancer research when modern medicine ... ?, etc. The problem here is the almost universally held belief that clinically mild diseases have simple causes while grave diseases are complex and proportionately difficult to understand or cure. There is no truth in either: A common cold, caused by one or more of a multiplicity of upper respiratory viruses and with an overlay of allergic reactivity, is an extremely complex ailment. On the other hand, some grave diseases such as phenylketonuria [a genetic disorder] About the Author: Peter B. Medawar, British Nobel laureate in medicine and physiology in 1960, is the author a/The Uniqueness of the Individual, The Future of Man and The Life Science: Current Ideas of Biology.

have relatively simple ongms: Some can be prevented (as phenylketonuria can be) or cured (as many bacterial infections can be). And some forms of cancer are simple in origin and can be circumvented (the cancers caused by smoking and by certain industrial chemicals).

The efficacy of science Many young scientists hope that the science they come to love can be the agent of a social transformation leading to the betterment of mankind; accordingly they lament that so few politicians are scientifically trained and that so few have a deep understanding of the promise and the accomplishments of science.

These lamentations betray a deep misunderstanding of the nature of the most exigent problems that confront the world: overpopulation, and how to achieve harmonious coexistence in a multiracial society. These are not scientific problems and do not admit of scientific solutions, but it does not mean that scientists are confined to being shocked spectators of events that threaten the well-being of mankind; scientists, as scientists, will find that they have necessary and distinctive contributions to make to the solution of these problems- but they are solutions that fall short of ushering in the millennium. As to overpopulation, for example, they can try to devise harmless and usable methods of birth control-not at all an easy task, considering how much of an organism's physiology and behavioral repertoire is devoted to the propagation of its kind. But, supposing them to be successful, they will have no special skills for solving the subsequent political, administrative and educational problems of bringing these contraceptive measures into use among peoples who cannot read hortatory pampWets, are not used to taking precautions, and may anyway want to have as many children as possible Again, what can a scientist as such do about interracial tensions? Here his function is more likely to be critical than political: He will expose, maybe, the preposterous pretensions of racialism and the whole farrago <;>fgenetic elitism that grew out of the writings of wicked old Sir Francis Galton. He may in the end convince political wrongdoers in the domain of race relations that they must not look to science to uphold or condone their malefactions. In short, there are innumerable ways in which scientists can work for the melioration of human affairs.

The functions of a social mechanic or critic might be thought by many scientists to diminish their own-and science'sstanding in the world. These would be mean-minded sentiments, though, and scientists will lose the influence they ought to and can .exert if their pretensions are too grand or the claims they make for the efficacy of science exceed its capabilities.

The role I envisage for the scientist is that which may be described as "scientific meliorism." A meliorist is simply one who believes that the world can be made a better place by human action wisely undertaken: meliorists, moreover, believe that they can undertake it. Legislators and administrators are characteristically meliorists, and the thought that they are so is an important element of their personal raison d'etre. They realize that improvements are most likely to be brought about by identifying what is amiss and then trylOg to put it right-by procedures that fall short of transforming the whole of society or recasting the entire legal system. Meliorists are comparatively humble people who try to do good and are made happy by evidence that it has been done. This is ambition enough for a wise scientist and it does not by any means diminish science: The declared purpose of the oldest and most famous scientific society in the world is no more grandiose than that of "improving natural knowledge." 0

An American and an Indian expert on family life discuss the changes in the family system in their respective societies, and the problems that affect the family as a social unit.

Promilla Kapur: Professor Hareven, you are here on a Fulbright professorship and assigned in Panjab University in Chandigarh. Do you find this assignment intellectually and academically stimulating?

Tamara Hareven: I find this a very worthwhile experience for a number of reasons.

I am a social historian or historical sociologist. My research in the late 19th and early 20th century in the United States show many parallels to the kind of experiences that India is going through.

Kapur: As a historical sociologist, you must be interested in comparative family studies: What significant changes in the family have you found taking place in the last 50 or 60 years?

Hareven: In the United States? In the past hundred years or so, there have been a number of changes in the organization and function of the family, its values and the timing of life transitions.

Many Indians believe that there once was a family structure in the United States where three generations lived together in the same household-like the joint family in India. But historically that was never the case. The American family was always a nuclear unit. The major change that has taken place in the membership of the American household over the past century has not been from an expanded to a nuclear residential unit but from what I call an "augmented" family-in the sense that earlier the household contained strangers within it. Close to one-half of the urban populations had, at some point in their lives, strangers residing with the family. That was a very important exchange between generations even though they were not children of the family, because the boarders were young people who had migrated into the household and replaced the family's own children who had left. That pattern continued up to World War 1.

Kapur: But how did strangers become part of the household?

Hareven: The boarders were usually immigrants from the same village or from

the same ethnic group as the people who took them in-in exchange for rent or board or certain services like baby-sitting. It was primarily an economic arrangement, but in many ways it also became a substitute family arrangement. The system goes back to the 17th century. In that period, the strangers would be apprentices or servants or homeless people or dependent people in society. But in the 19th century with its high population migration, taking in servants and apprentices was not significant any more; boarding

became the dominant pattern. American society was very much a family-minded society in the past, unlike today. Family life was much less private and isolated; the family interacted more with the community; it was a busy place, with people coming and going. It was somewhat more like Indian society in the sense that it would have been almost inconceivable for a person to live alone. The major change that came in the 1920s was that the strangers almost completely disappeared from the family, and the family became

an isolated nuclear unit, a very private unit.

Today solitary residence has become a very prevalent pattern in the United States-and that's the major transition.

One of the problems with contemporary American family life is that it is too private; families have lost their flexibility, and they have to fall back on their own resources too much.

Kapur: But with all the technological changes affecting society today, do you think that the importance of the family is decreasing in the United States?

Hareven: I don't think so at all. Actually, the importance of the family is increasing.

Technology has very little to do with the internal aspects of family life. In fact the division between the world of work and the world of the family nowa'days enables people to concentrate more on the contents of family life. Of course not everybody does it, and that's a real problem. Sometimes people have very hectic schedules, and husbands and wives can't make their schedules coincide and are busy away from home. But that's more of a problem of the pace of life itself than of technology.

Kapur: But do you think that that has increased the tensions in the family relationships?

Hareven: I very much think so. One of the major reasons for internal strain and tension in American family life today is that the idea of a private family as a retreat from the world has become so powerful- the emotional con tent of family life is more important than some of the instrumental relationships that the family had earlier. Husbands and wives judge each other's performance today primarily by the emotional satisfaction they can give each other and their children. While psychological comforts of this kind are very important, sometimes people expect one another to provide more emotional support than is possible, especially when the world is so complex around them.

Kapur: What are the other significant factors that are creating conflicts between parents and children?

Hareven: The other source of confl.ict is what you would expect in any periodthe generation gap. In some periods generation gaps are more powerful than in others. The 1960s were a major dividing line; we had the emergence of a youth culture much more dramatically than before. We had had youth cultures, adolescent cultures earlier in American society, but in the 1960s it was so big that it became a sort of watershed.

Kapur: What could be the reason for that?

Hareven: There was a variety of factors-

among them were the protest against the Vietnam war and the disillusionment of young adults with the materialism of American society. Young people who came of age at that point had already experienced all the comforts of a middleclass family life, and the security of being able to go to college. Since they didn't have to struggle for it, they rejected it.

And they rejected the suburban lifestyle of their parents, much of which was empty and negative-spending their time in clubs and so on, without any real depth to their relationships. There was also a variety of attractive factors for youth like the psychedelic culture. The irony is that the parents of the people who rebelled in the 1960s were remarkably liberal people. They themselves had rebelled against the culture of their parents and preached to their own children a very flexible and liberal attitude; but they didn't quite go far enough, or didn't quite live up to the standards they preached. It was the children of those parents, more than of the conservative parents, who were rebelling. I think another very important element in the tension now is the fact that teen-agers in the United States-in all this I am talking about middle-class, not working-class, families-carry no real responsibility in the family. They don't contribute to the family economy, they have little purpose and content in their lives.

Kapur: Do you think that the parents' inability to give enough time and attention, love and care to the children when they are very young is also a contributory factor to their revolt when they grow to adolescence?

Hareven: No, because parents give a great deal of love and attention to the children when they are very young. It is when these children reach say age 12, i.e., junior high school age, that the attention begins to decline, and it is at that point that the children need more than the actual nurturing care. They need the companionship of their parents, they need some role models of meaningful relationships, and they very often do not get those models because their own parents don't always relate well to each other.

The father is away and busy, and much more time is spent on going through social routines, watching television, than interacting together as a family. But people who are now reaching middle age are behaving differently, because they have learned from what happened earlier. There is now a real effort to recover meaningful relationships within the family. The pendulum is swinging. There is something

of a real search for a more meaningful content in family relations.

Kapur: In what way do you find the family system intrinsically different in India, judging by whatever you have seen of family life here?

Hareven: I really cannot generalize because I have not learned enough about the Indian families. All I can say will be on the basis of superficial observation.

I think there is much greater interdependence among generations in India than there is in the United States. There is also much more interdependence between families and generations. Parental authority seems to be much stronger in India than III the United States. One aspect of parental authority that I find remarkable is in the arrangement of marriages. This is one of the most dramatic differences, because the other aspects of family interdependence were in some respects true in the past in the United States also, particularly among various ethnic groups.

It still persists in the black family, in the sense that relatives really rely on each other. But what is different is the fact that parents have such a direct, clearly defined authority over the arranging of marriages, and that marriages are not just between individuals, but they are between families.

In the United States it would be inconceivable for young people to have their parents find their partners for them. That is something that they would rebel against.

Kapur: In the United States, as you say, families are becoming more and more nuclear and private and youngsters and elders want to be on their own without much communication between them. Do you think that the industrialization and the urbanization of the last few decades in your country have contributed toward this increasing alienation?

Hareven: Our major industrialization and urbanization have not taken place in the past few decades but in the late 19th and early 20th century. Research sh<?ws that urbanization and industrialization did not drive generations apart in the United States. In fact, in some sense, they brought generations closer togethernot living together but assisting each other and depending on one another.

For example, in the rural areas, children would leave home at a younger age because only one child could remain and work on the inherited land, while in urban society if they were working in the same city, they could live together in the parents' house much longer than in the rural areas. In rural communities, in order to take care of parents in old age, at least one child would remain at home.

It was normally a daughter, and that daughter would often postpone marriage.

This is how it used to be, until very recently, in the industrial period and among industrial workers. I keep trying to tell people in India that industrialization as such is not necessarily accompanied by the breakdown of joint families; it does not have to be accompanied by the dilution of family obligations and extended family relations. I have shown in my work on the historical patterns in the United States that kinship was actually a very valuable factor in facilitating migration and orientation to industrial society.

Kapur: But what then could be the reasons for not having that kinship intact today?

Hareven: In the United States kinship relations were always less intense in terms of the obligation to extended kin than in India. They were much more informal and voluntary. Even though in earlier times there was a much stronger interdependence between parents and their adult children, they never really lived together. In that sense the fact that the older people are more isolated now is not an entirely new phenomenon; it's just more intensive, and what has caused that primarily is the high geographic mobility in the United States. The majority of people just don't live in the vicinity of their children. That is a very important factor contributing to the isolation of older people. Then there is the whole notion of modern life, in which a couple is expected to be independent of their original families. What might be called the sacredness of the independent household in the United States has been a very important historical factor. When young people marry, they go off and live separately; once a couple marries they do not feel part of a larger family system. That is not new, it was always the case; it is more intensive now than before.

Kapur: In India with the various changes that are taking place, what do you think should be done to prevent the stage from coming when our young people also start feeling that old relations are a burden on the family?

Hareven: I don't know how it can be prevented, if professionalization here is going to mean increasing migration of people to urban areas and their separation from their parents and relatives. In India, assistance to parents is also connected with a very strong acceptance of authority from them. If young people rebel against that, and daughters-in-law do not want to live any more with their mothers-in-law, I don't know how that can be prevented.

Perhaps one way would be to try to live near without living together, so that one can have a separate household, yet continue to provide assistance to the older people.

Kapur: Even when we do not live together, in important functions or ceremonies like marriage or birth, the whole family and even distant relatives get together and feel part of the system. Looking after the aged is still considered a very sacred duty. But with social security and institutions taking the place of individuals, do you think that a change might occur in our families also?

Hareven: I don't think that the social security system causes the change. In fact, I think it is a redeeming feature, because in earlier times in the United States when we had no governmental and institutional support, people still couldn't always count on the children to support them, because the children often didn't

The major pressure on the family now is the emotional pressure.

Spouses have too great an expectation from each other as to fulfilling their emotional needs.

have enough to give them-and people were really vulnerable and dependent.

Having the social security system alleviates the vulnerability of all the people to poverty and to destitution. It does cause a dilemma in that certain functions are still carried out by the children which the children think should be carried out by the public sector. So elderly parents are caught in between. I think that in India it would be ideal if a social security system was achieved. Even though you have this very strong interdependence among kin, it is very difficult for people to spread their resources enough to be able to support older people adequately.

Kapur: Don't you think it's more a question of the inner emotional responsibility that one feels toward the elders that makes one do this? We see that in some very well-to-do Indian families young people don't support their parents because they don't feel inclined toward doing their duty.

Hareven: Yes, I think that would very much be the same in the United States.

There would be people who think that their parents have social security so they don't want to support them. But they would still try to provide them emotional support. The fact that in India the emotional element is still very strong is a wonderful thing. I hope that when you have a social security system and the economic burden is removed from children, that would not remove the emotional attachment, the sense of loyalty and the need to provide other services and social supports.

There is a variety of social supports that just cannot be bought with money.

In the United States children leave home around age 18, so that in a sense the nest is already empty when the parents are in middle age, and a real relationship between parents and their children almost comes to an end in a regular way when the children go to college or once the children get married. It is important to understand that our older people in the United States are more isolated not only because of economic factors, not only because we have a social security system, but because we have an age segregation in the society itself.

In India, by contrast, the age groups are much more mixed up together. In your households you have people of different ages mixing together-a young child grows up and it is exposed to the whole of life-it is exposed to different ages. There are all sorts of relatives coming and going. The typical American family is made up of the parents and one, two or three children; the children are close to each other in age and once they leave home, the segregation increases.

Kapur: But how has it come about that you have different communities for the aged and different places where the youngsters live? Is it historical. ..

Hareven: Yes. the nuclear family idea has become very important historically over time. When people move and settle in the suburbs, they do not take their parents with them. Suburbs offer better schools. Besides, American society has always from the very beginning been a society made up of migrants; the first generation that came to settle on the American continent left its relatives behind. Even though many of the subsequent migrations to the United States have been along family lines, the notion of a separation between generations has always been powerful in the United States, even before industrialization.

Kapur: Do you think that it is also the socialization process, that a 15- or 16year-old girl or a boy has to just fend for

herself or himself. When they need the parents emotionally and otherwise, they have to be on their own. Is that why when t~ey grow up they ,don't care for their parents?

Hareven: American children don't have to fend for themselves at a young age.

On the contrary, their transition to adulthood is very cushioned. That's true of all classes of American society. Teenagers are not sent out to fend for themselves. They are supported through high school, even through college. They get a great deal of economic support from their parents and live with their parents.

Kapur: Up to what age?

Hareven: Well, usually until they graduate from high school at the age of about 18.

Kapur: There's another thing that I am very curious about: With the emerging trend in your country toward trial marriagesor open marriages, or living together without marriage, what future do you seefor the institution of marriage?

Hareven: This kind of trend that you read about is sensationalized by the press.

There are some people who live together without marriage, but their doing that does not undermine the family, because a lot of these unconventional couples living together unmarried end up marrying. In fact, this development affects the divorce rate in an interesting way; the divorce rate in the United States is now reaching a plateau-it is not continuing to go up. One reason for that is that most divorces occur within the first year of marriage. People who don't marry immediately but live together first do not have to divorce if their union is not stable. If they decide to marry, they have a stable marriage.

Kapur: But there is the problem of children who are born out of wedlock.

Hareven: Also the problem of property settlement. Had some of the divorced couples had a trial marriage before their legal marriage, they might have been saved a great deal of agony. I think this is what is happening more and more.

I think it is also important to realize that a lot of the people who live together unmarried, eventually do marry, especially when they want to have children. It's not just a game of changing partners; . it is a sincere effort and very often it leads to stable unions.

Kapur: In many cases mentioned in the press, people interviewed have said that as long as they were living together without legally getting married, they understood each other much better than after they got married. Don't you think that it could be because after the

sharing has emerged in child-rearing, in domestic responsibilities.

Kapur: I found the same thing in my studies of the middle-class urban-dwelling families in India too. In families where the wife also works, her attitude toward her own role in and outside family has changed more than the husband's. In the families where the husband's attitudes have changed with the wife's, there wasn't any tension merely because the wife worked outside.

Hareven: What you are saying is important because both in India and in the United States many people argue that it's the women's work outside the home that causes tensions and family breakdowns.

Kapur: Actually in my book Marriage and the Working Women. I studied that very question; I find that woman's working oustide the home does not of itself create marital disharmony.

Hareven: That is also very true in the United States. In fact woman's work outside the home has often contributed to marital harmony, because women who Even when we do felt trapped at home without work that is not live together, the ,economically recognized and without the sociability of the workplace were taking whole family gets their frustrations out on the family. Once together for important they were able to go and work and be definceremonies .... ed as wage-earners, as productive people outside their household as well, their attiLooking after the aged tude toward their husbands and children is still considered improved. People exaggerate the dramatic a very sacred duty. impact of divorce today in the United States, because they think that there is a much greater strain in the family, that the family is really breaking down. Actually families always had problems; there was attitudes of men have been changing no golden age. It is just that earlier they as well. The women's liberation movement were not solving their problems-or esgot a great deal of publicity in the 1960s caping them through divorce. Instead, and 1970s, but in the same period men there was a high rate of desertion and were also questioning their own roles. a high rate of unhappy marriages. So As Margaret Mead has said, "For every that the increase in the divorce statistics woman who is trapped in a suburb raising is not in itself an indication that family life children, there is a man trapped in an has become more miserable. urban office stuck with a job he doesn't Kapur: Ies only that it is coming out in like." Women articulated the questions the openmore because of all the inequality between Hareven: People have become more conthe sexes that existed in the society and cerned with the actual content and perin the attitudes. sonal meaning of the marriage relation0 Kapur: But perhaps men's attitudes are ship than with its formal legal aspect. not changing as fast as that of women; About the Participants: Promilla Kapur is the auisn't there an attitudinal lag by men?

Hare,'en: Yes, that's true; that lag does thor of many books, including Marriage and the create tension. It has also led to a very Working Women in India, The Changing Status of the Working Women in India, Parents-Young healthy reassessment of family relationGirls Conflict. Tamara Hareven is professor of ships; many of the families that have history, Clark University and research associate, survived that strain have actually experi- Harvard University. She is currently a Fulbright enced a renegotiation of relationships, in professor at the department of sociology, Panjab which husbands and the wives understand University. She has written several books and each other's roles better. More time- is the editor of Journal of Family History.

marriage, the husband and the wife start taking each other for granted?

Hareven: Yes, there is a possibility that the psychological possessiveness becomes more of a binding. But I don't think we can generalize on this.

Kapur: Do you think that it is the excessive expectation from the partner that is creating tensions in married life?

Hareven: I think that the major pressure on the family now is emotional. Husbands and wives who expect too much emotionally from each other are the ones who are in trouble. There is also a pressure of time, the problem of having time together.

Kapur: Don't you think the attitudes of women are changing much faster than the men's attitudes-in regard to each other's duties, responsibilities and roles in the family?

Hareven: That may be what is happening in India. But in the United States the

A familiar face to filmgoers is that of Tom Alter, a young man of American origin who has made India his home and Indian films his profession.

Rinki Bhattacharya: Though your film career is looking up, have you never felt like returning to the United States, where your parents live?

Tom Alter: I've lived all my life in India,

and it's not a question of returning to the United States. It's more a question of going visiting there. Though many of my relatives are now in America, including my grandparents, the family has been in India for three generationssinGe1916,which is when my grandparents came. So I always think in terms of returning to India and not to the United States. In fact, I am an Indian citizen.

How did your grandfather come to be in India?

Alter: He came with the Presbyterian

Mission Board. The family stayed here till 1952. My father was born in the Punjab, in Sialkot. He lived here almost all his life. My mother is from New England.

She came to India after she married my father. So, India is our home.

Coming from a Presbyterian missionary's home, there must have been an initial mental block about your taking to showbiz.

Did your family have any objections?

Alter: No, no objections, but they had

some reservations. They said, "You want to give it a try, go ahead, give it a try."

They never tried to stop me, and have always been enthusiastic about my films, critically commenting on my work.

What were your earliest film experiences?

Which of the early films have remained fresh in your mind?

Alter: My earliest memories are almost

all about English films. I didn't see Hindi films until I grew much older-except

saying Manikda was in town and wanted to meet me. So I went to meet him at the Taj. He simply said, "Tom, this is the role--will you do it?" I said, "Of course I will," and that was that.

Do you think the character you played ever existed?

Alter: There was such a man. A certain John Weston is mentioned, who was the ADC to the resident in Lucknow.

What is your role in Richard Attenborough's Gandhi?

Alter: I play the role of an American doctor who examines and treats Gandhi at the Agha Khan Palace in Poona, where Gandhi and Kasturba were interned.

In India we seem to have a number of subjects woven around the latter days of the British Raj-which is a good thing for you, as you inevitably get selected. In fact, you have been in several such films, including Kanneshwara Rama, Junoon, Kranti, and, of course, Shatranj. What do you say about this revival?

Alter: I say cheers for the revival; it gives me worK! Between the actual historical period and the time when the films are made, I think you need a gap of a certain number of years to get historical perspective.

for one, Kabuliwala, which with me, I don't know why.

has stayed

What was the first thing you did when you decided to join films?

Alter: The first thing was naturally to join the Film and Television Institute in Pune, where I spent some two years studying. Then I went to Bombay.

Scenes from some films featuring Tom Alter . (clockwise, from left): Ghasiram KotwaI, Chameli Memsaab, Junoon, and Kanneshwara Rama.

Amongst all your roles, J consider the one in Satyajit Ray's Shatranj Ke Khilari my favorite. I am most curious about how you got selected.

Alter: Manikda (Ray) had come as a speaker to the Film Instituteduringtheconvocation. I think he saw a couple of my diploma films. Atthat time he had said, "Tom, you are going to work in one of my films," and I said, "Great." I never thought about it until about two years later, when one of his production guys came to my house

Which of the serious Indian directors have you worked with?

Alter: First on the list is Ray. I had a bit role in Shyam Benegal's Junoon. I also had a role in a film by another new-wave director- that's M.S. Sathyu. I've worked in films made by Chetan Anand, Hrishikesh Mukherji, Dev Anand, and Ramanand Sagar. Then, I've worked with one of the leading commercial directors, Manmohan Desai.

Don't you find it odd switching from serious film to blockbuster?

Alter: It is difficult to switch back and forth. I prefer the slightly more intelligent, serious films. But to succeed in films that are commercially motivated is also a challenge.

Do you think it is to your advantage being a foreigner in the scheme of Indian films?

Alter: To my advantage in that there are certain roles only I can do, no one else.

There aren't many full-time actors who are foreigners, or look like one, who can also speak Hindi or Urdu. When some-

"There aren't many full-time'actors in India who are foreigners, or look like one, who can also speak Hindi or Urdu. When somebody wants that kind of a role done, they have virtually no choice but to come to me."

I had this strong feeling that it's a true story.

Alter: Oh yes. While we were shooting, there was this old couple on the tea estate, the gentleman who played the estate manager and his wife. They seemed authentic because they were authentic. When we were to shoot we needed these two characters. I went to meet them. They said, "Oh, yes, we shall act in this film, but tell us the story." I did. He said, "You people, how did you know this? It happened so many times right before my eyes. It's incredible, you people should be proud of doing it."

body wants that kind of a role done, they have virtually no choice but to come to me.

In that way I've been lucky. I've gotten many breaks others haven't. I've been unlucky in that there are many roles I would like to do, but cannot because of my appearance. ~So, it works both ways.

People keep telling me I should wear a wig, use dark makeup tones, change my name.

Do this, do that. Maybe they are right. But I've given myself over to this profession, I am not going to back out. If things don't go well, after five years .... I may later become a writer or sports journalist. But for the next five years I will keep on trying.

main character in it is just fantastic. Yes, it also has the British Raj as backdrop.

That role would appeal to me very much.

You've never been on the stage, have you?

Alter: I have. In Bombay I've done two plays: The Zoo Story with Naseeruddin Shah and Waiting for Godot.

The other day I saw this film of yours, Chameli Memsaab, and I am tempted to say that it was tailor-made for you.

Alter: It wasn't tailor-made for me, that's what is so amazing. The scriptwriter did not know I existed-it was by chance that we got together. That's what's so nice. It's unfortunate that the director had not enough money, or enough patience. The film had great possibilities.

Since you read a good across any character would like to play?

Alter: That's a good read this book The

deal, have you come in fiction that you question. Have you Far Pavilion? The

What is the characfer?

Alter: He is an Englishman who is orphaned very young. He is brought up in an Indian home, by an ayah. Hedoesn't know that he is English until much later when he is six or seven, when his father's regiment finds him. He is sent back to study in England. Later, he comes back to India, joins the guides, which is a part of the army. He falls in love with an Indian girl, and generally has an adventurous life.

Could you give a resume of the story? who Alter: It's about an Englishman goes to a tea estate as an assistant manager.

He falls in love with a local girl, a laborer.

They want to marry. The Indian community says they shouldn't marry. The English community says they can't marry. But they both decide to get married. Their marriage is boycotted. After the marriage no one talks to them. The assistant manager doesn't get his promotion. Their life is made more difficult. The girl is now pregnant. She is also afflicted with leprosy, which is very common among laborers, Because of it doctors advise the husband not to have any physical contact with her. The child is kept out of her reach.

In those days the doctors there were ignorant about leprosy treatment.

The wife kills herself. She thinks the husband is unfaithful. One of the girl's old lovers comes back, suspecting foul play, and tries to kill the husband. But they become friends.

This is where the film becomes cencocted.

Even then, it has too many flaws. But no doubt it had good possibilities.

Alter: You're right there. There are very many flaws. But I thoroughly enjoyed working on it. And if I don't work on another film for the rest of my life, here is a film I can show to my friends and say: "Look, this is what I am capable of doing. I've done something in my life." 0 About the Interviewer: Rinki Bhattacharya free-lance journalist who writes on films.

is a

~jONTHE -LIGHTER SIDE

THE MAN NHO COUL.D ~E-INTO lRe FUTur<.E

THE ICEBERG COMETH Icebergs offer a promising, if still somewhat elusive, source of fresh water and energy.

Limits to human actlVlty are set by the availability of fresh water. When the demand outstrips the local supply, or when the local sources have been contaminated, the conventional modern practice is simply to "borrow" water from some other region, usually by pipeline or aqueduct. But with growing population, industrialization, and pollution, the search for new water supplies has become increasingly difficult, and sources farther and farther afield are being considered.

Melting icebergs is one of the most "far-out" of these suggestions. This may appear, at first glance, to be technically or economically infeasible, or to be an engineer's infatuation that will soon pass.

But "iceberg water" has become the object of serious study in recent years, and-although much remains to be done,

including the of the idea-it promIse.

first live demonstration may have considerable

Is the earth short of water?

Hardly. Overall, we have roughly 14,000 million cubic kilometers of it. But only about 9 million cubic kilometers-or sixtenths of one percent of the total-is both liquid and fresh. This is still a lot of water, but it is distributed unevenly and, in general, its quality deteriorates as the demand rises at a given location.

Perhaps more important than the absolute quantity of fresh water, however, is the rate at which water is replenished: the amount of fresh water recycled annually by evaporation is less than half a million cubic kilometers, and of this less than a quarter (or about 0.1 million cubic kilometers) falls as precipitation over

land areas. The useful supply tends to be limited to about 10 to 20 percent of the precipitation -about 10,000 to 20,000 cubic kilometers.

With liquid fresh water being such a scarce resource, and the subject of this presentation being iceberg water, what then is our "inventory" of fresh waterstored-as-ice?

Almost 30 million cubic kilometers.

About 90 percent of this ice is contained in the continental ice sheet and the ice shelves of Antarctica.

Most of the rest is in the Greenland Ice Sheet. Less than one percent is distributed among the ice covers of the arctic and subarctic islands and the world's mountain glaciers. These accumulated "frozen assets" yield meltwater of very high purity, although airborne pollutants originating

from human activity are beginning to accumulate in the upper layers.

The Antarctic Ice Sheet has an annual input of precipitation equi~alent to about 2,000 cubic kilometers of water, and its ice shelves, in turn, produce tabular (i.e., flat) icebergs containing roughly 1,000 cubic kilometers of water. The Greenland Ice Sheet is smaller, with an annual iceberg production equivalent to about 200 cubic kilometers of water.

The appealing things about Antarctic tabular icebergs are their neat packaging (uniform slabs 200 to 250 meters thick) and comparative accessibility for potential users in the Southern Hemisphere.

By contrast, most Greenland icebergs are appreciably more irregular in shape and size. Furthermore, they are not well placed for delivery to coasts where water is in short supply.

The Antarctic icebergs alone comprise an annual potential water source equal to five times the world's current domestic use of water, and one-third of the consumption for all purposes.

Who thought up the idea of iceberg water?

Modern interest in the idea should be credited to John Isaacs of the Scripps who sugInstitution of Oceanography, gested (in his unpublished study during the early 1950s) that iceberg water was a possibility for Southern California. The first people to write something down, thereby exposing the idea to the scrutiny of the geophysics and engineering communities, were W.F. Weeks and W.J. Campbell.

At a symposium on the Hydrology of Glaciers in 1969, and in a paper published in 1973, they presented calculations suggesting that iceberg water could well be an attractive option for certain selected sites in the Southern Hemisphere. This was followed, later in 1973, by a report prepared by J. Hult and N. Ostrander (of the Rand Corporation), who returned to a consideration of the Isaacs suggestion of iceberg water for Southern California. They also concluded that the idea looked quite promising.

These two studies were similar in some respects: both pairs of authors became intrigued with the idea of iceberg towing; they saw potential economic advantages in large-scale operations; and they assumed that the major uses of such

water would be irrigation of industrial processes. Otherwise, the studies were very different: Weeks and Campbell discussed the towing of individual, unprotected icebergs to the easiest locations (Australia and western South America), while Hult and Ostrander examined the towing of trains of "wrapped" icebergs to sites north of the equator.

Wasn't there any developmental pressure from potential users (especially those in arid regions)?

Yes. What iceberg water needed was a patron, preferably one with considerable financial resources and an incentive to act. He arrived in the person of Prince Mohammed Al Faisal Al Saud of Saudi Arabia.

Charged with responsibility for developing his country's water supplies, Prince Faisal had truly serious water problems.

In a country that has no perennial rivers, average rainfall less than 10 centimeters per year, and depleted aquifers, one must consider all possibilities-desalination, weather modification, import of liquid water, and even iceberg transport. The prince's interest in iceberg water was directed primarily toward human consumption and high technology applications, and he presented a cost structure far more favorable than had been previously considered.

That was the good news. The bad news was that he wanted the water delivered to Jeddah in the Persian Gulf, a site that opened a Pandora's box of additional difficulties-long tows through hot water, reversing currents, hurricanes, and shallow water, just to cite a few.

Prince Faisal sponsored meetings which provided a forum for the exchange of ideas on iceberg water. The first, held in Paris in 1977, was attended and by approximately 40 scientists engineers; the second, which convened late in 1977 at Iowa State University, drew about 230 people; and a third meeting was held in April 1980, at the Scott Polar Research Institute in Cambridge, England.

How big are these icebergs, and what are some of their properties?

Tabular icebergs are slabs, from 200 to 250 meters thick. Their horizontal dimensions are quite varied, and can be truly immense: Icebergs as large as

185 kilometers on a side have been reported, and dimensions in excess of 50 kilometers are not uncommon.

Based on very limited observations, it appears that icebergs generally have lengths near one kilometer in protected areas and less than this on the open sea. Most icebergs have length/width ratios between one and two; ratios greater than five are uncommon.

Shelf icebergs are not composed of ice of uniform density. In fact, the upper surface at the time of "calving" consists of snow. The actual transition from snow (permeable) to ice (impermeable) occurs at depths between 40 and 60 meters, depending on the origins of the iceberg. Although iceberg buoyancy varies with the mean density and the edge geometry, the mean freeboard (height above water level) of tabular icebergs is about 40 meters. These are important numbers: for example, if the snow-ice transition is below sea level, sea water can infiltrate the upper part of the iceberg and perhaps cause it to deteriorate rapidly.

Many icebergs contain cracks and crevasSeS that increase the vulnerability to break up when they are exposed to the open ocean. In addition, there are questions as to whether or not icebergs greater than a certain size are inherently unstable when exposed to the bending effects of very long swells. This is not a well-understood process, and much remains to be learned. Whatever the theoreticians may say, however, shipboard sightings and recent satellite studies do show that some icebergs can survive for years in the open ocean, and that they are capable of voyaging far to the north on their own.

Could icebergs be "harvested," therefore, from the open sea?

Yes. In fact, that is the only way.

A smart iceberg tow-er would hardly run down to the nearest ice shelf and saw one off, but would watch satellite images to keep track of icebergs drifting to the north beyond the edge of the Antarctic pack ice. After letting natural selection take its toll, he would select several icebergs as potential candidates for towing. Then they would be inspected, perhaps by remote-sensing techniques such as radio-echo sounding, to disclose hidden flaws. The final selection would

Southwestern United States 9500 miles

The towing distances to three regions of interest show the wisdom of focusing initial efforts on iceberg delivery to Australia.

be based on relative integrity, size, shape, and nearness to the destination.

There are many more things we would like to know about the properties, distribution, and life history of Antarctic-shelf icebergs.

But, based on what is already known, it is generally believed that icebergs suitable for towing exist and can be routinely located.

"There it is! But can we tow it?"

In principle, the answer is "Yes." Several theoretical simulations of iceberg towing have been made in order to gain a feel for the forces and velocities involved. Important parameters include towboat capabilities, form and skin drag, waves, wind, ocean currents, Coriolis effects (deflections induced by the earth's rotation) and, of course, melting. There are many points that can be debated in these simulations.

For instance, as the iceberg is towed, d'ifferential melting ought to streamline the overall shape, causing a decrease in the form drag.

At the same time, large melt-induced ripples form on the ice surface, perhaps increasing the skin drag. There is also undercutting of the sides by wave action, resulting in subsequent collapse of the ice cliffs. The melting process is itself complex, in that the fresh meltwater produces buoyancy-induced natural convection along the iceberg's sides. Also, the ice contains air which, when freed by melting, streams up the sides of the

Western Australia 4000 miles

iceberg, further contributing to the convective process.

The results of the simulations suggest that the power requirements for towing icebergs of modest size are large (an order of magnitude beyond the current capability of single tugs), but are not beyond the bounds of existing technology.

Within the range of iceberg sizes examined (horizontal surface areas of 1.5, 4, 7, and 10 square kilometers with thicknesses of 0.23 kilometer), the predicted proportion of the iceberg remaining at delivery seems quite insensitive to the original size and shape, but strongly dependent on the towing force or velocity (as the towing force increases, both the transit time and the amount of melt decrease).

On tows of unprotected icebergs to Australia (300 S), for example, estimated yields are approximately 50 percent with transit times between two and three months. Obviously, a great deal of ice is lost in transit, but it is still possible to deliver a lot of water.

An important factor in optimizing a tow appears to be the selection of an iceberg that is, at the time of pickup, in a location which minimizes the towing distance and maximizes the use of favorable currents.

One of the main imponderables is the operational difficulty of actually carrying out the tow. The southern oceans would hardly win an award for placidity.

Because they are so large, tabular icebergs would not be too much affected by sea states, but the same cannot be said for tug boats. At present, the anticipated method of engaging an iceberg would be to encircle it with a line or net system.

The installation of conventional bollards (strong posts for holding the tow line) also appears possible, although it is probably not a good idea to fix hardware into the ice. (What is secure on one day may melt loose the next.)

One major problem is that existing tugs are very inefficient devices for lowspeed pushing and pulling, at least in terms of energy consumption.

The "bollard pull" of a tug is not likely to exceed 13.6 kilograms offorce per shaft horsepower, resulting in an efficiency of less than 10 percent at a towing speed of one knot (even ignoring power transmission losses in the ship); the world's most powerful tugs have less than 200 tons of pull. But the towing resistance of a small tabular iceberg could be of the order of 1,000 tons at a constant speed of one knot.

This suggests using several tugs to do the job, but the required number can escalate rapidly if higher speed tows are required.

Because much of the resistance is of an inertial nature, towing force increases with the square of velocity and the required power increases with the cube ofvelocityi.e., doubling the speed calls for four times as much force and eight times as much power.

It will also take a fairly substantial piece of string to pull the ice cube. Just about the strongest cable manufactured for marine use is IS-centimeter wire rope, which weighs about 100 kilograms per meter. The nominal breaking load of this -stuff is around 1360.5 metric tons, which means that a safe working load is way below the one-knot towing resistance of even a small berg (a safety factor of five is common, and three is the minimum).

There is no shortage of potentially innovative ideas for the towing operation.

A Massachusetts group designed an efficient propeller for iceberg tugs, but it turned out to be 50 meters in diameter.

The late Jonathan Job (of the University of Adelaide) favored the idea of pulling against a submerged drogue-an underwater parachute system. Prince Faisal and a colleague are reinventing the feathering paddlewheel for greater energy efficiency, while we ourselves are reinventing chain ferries and kedging systems (which use fixed points on the ocean floor to achieve propulsion through pulling). A more sporting approach would be to do the trip under sail, making a long spinnaker run through the southern ocean.

Given the many operational unknowns and uncertainties, the best way to realis-

Rising out of the sea, an iceberg dwarfs the 55-meter oceanographic vessel Evergreen.

But the huge mass is a small part of the berg, seven-eighths of which is below water.

tically appraise the problems will be to try test tows on a modest scale. This would permit evaluations of a variety of techniques, it might resolve some existing debates, and it could identify' problems not yet anticipated.

If we are melting 50 percent of our tow on a trip to Australia, what about tows to California and Saudi Arabia?

Serious students of the problem are generally in ~greement that an unprotected iceberg will not survive a tow north of the equator. Regardless of how large a shelf iceberg may be in the horizontal plane, it is still only 200 to 250 meters thick. Once the flat-plate melt exceeds the ice thickness-Poof!

No iceberg.

When the route from Antarctica to Saudi Arabia is examined, for example, one finds that even in July, when things are "cool," the tow would have to traverse over 5,600 kilometers of water with temperatures in excess of 20째 C (much of the

route is, in fact, warmer than 25째 C).

It takes 128 days to make the transit, and even with water temperatures of only 20째 C, the iceberg melts in 104 days.

This also neglects the appreciable melt losses that would occur south of the 20째 C isotherm (see'above right and page 42).

What is a matter of debate is whether or not a tabular iceberg can be effectively and inexpensively isolated from the surrounding seawater. Here we stress inexpensively (we could, in principle, build a refrigerated floating drydock and transport the ice in frozen comfort). Some people favor the use of protective fabrics that would help retain a layer of cold water next to the iceberg. Others have suggested the use of foamed insulation.

But a panel that met at the Iowa State meeting concluded that protection was truly a formidable problem. Although there was no general agreement on the elements of an adequate protective scheme, it was stated that foam alone would not be successful; that plastic films and wraps would be both difficult to handle and maintain; that effective protection near the water line is crucial, but on tows across the equator both the sides and bottom

An approximate mapping of mean surface water temperature.

of the iceberg will require protection;. and that proposed solutions ought to be simple if they are to work under the severe environmental conditions that would be encountered on an operational tow.

So far, we have not heard of a protective scheme that we can believe in. Yet from the history of engineering advances we would be foolish to say that it cannot be done; it is just that we do not have a good idea of how to do it.

For tows north of the equator, protection is essential. But for tows to Australia or other Southern Hemisphere sites alopg western South America or southern Africa, it is not. Thus, it makes sense to focus initial efforts there. In addition, if partial protection could be arranged during a Southern Hemisphere tow, it would make operations more favorable in that it would greatly increase the amount of iceberg that would arrive at the delivery site.

What are the economics of delivering an unprotected iceberg to a site in Australia?

Job's calculations. (presented at the

Iowa conference) suggest a delivery cost for small icebergs of between 5 and 15 cents per cubic meter of water. He also points out that with the development of efficient towing and an increase in the scale of the operations, the delivery costs might be lowered considerably, to the neighborhood of one cent per cubic meter.

This figure compares with the initial estimates made by Weeks and Campbell for large-scale operations.

These costs place limits on the possible initial uses of iceberg water (assuming schemes, and that early transportation the quantities delivered, are modest).

Water for urban and industrial requirements may be worth 15 cents per cubic meter or more, depending upon the need and market conditions.

The cost for bulk fresh water produced by large-scale desalination in Saudi Arabia, for example, is 90 cents per cubic meter, and in some countries water costs are as high as $2.50 per cubic meter. In Australia, at the present time, no water user near a capital city faces charges in excess of 20 cents per cubic meter for piped delivery.

In short, it¡ appears that because of increased water demand and dwindling supplies, iceberg water could, within the next 20 years, offer an increasingly attractive alternative to conventional water supply in southern and western Australia.

What does one do when the iceberg arrives?

This question has' not received nearly the attention. it deserves. First, because of the iceberg's draft (the thickness of the submerged portion), it is not possible to deliver it "on the beach." In western Australia, for instance, you could only get to within 15 kilometers of Rottnest Island, and in South Australia your journey would end some 35 kilometers from the main coast. Hardly what one would wish! There, the iceberg must be moored or otherwise immobilized and protected from the surrounding seawater so that the fresh meltwater is contained.

Finally, there is the job of systematically processing the ice into water-by no means a trivial operation.

Does one cut it, core it, blast it, saw it, crush it, or slurry it? An overall analysis of the possibilities has never been made.

More enlightened, but longer term, possibilities involve the coupling of an ice-to-water conversion scheme with processes that can utilize the iceberg's prodi-

gious capacity as an energy sink. For instance, an iceberg with a volume of one cubic kilometer has a mass of about 9 x lOll kilograms, which would represent a total of 30 megajoules of energy in a 0° environment.

If converted to conventional electric power with an efficiency of 3 percent, we obtain 2.4 x 109 kilowatt hours which, if valued at 2.5 cents per kilowatt hour, would have a value of $60 million. An important aspect of such a combined operation is that many of its profits and advantages are largely free-we need to melt the ice anyway.

Does exploitation of icebergs pose any legal or environmental problems?

The legal aspects ;?pear to fall largely under the Law of the Sea Treaty, inasmuch as the present Antarctic Treaty omits reference to mineral exploitation (thereby implicitly excluding the consideration of icebergs). Besides, most iceberg pickup sites would be north of the area considered by the Antarctic Treaty.

Interest in icebergs as a source of fresh water is likely to continue until the idea either becomes an operational reality or is finally laid to rest.

Current considerations of legal problems find them to be tractable within established international procedures, and anticipation of legal problems can readily lead to strategies to facilitate theirsolution.

On the Antarctic continent itself there are no environmental effects. Even considering only the icebergs released into the sea in one year, a truly heroic towing effort would be required to move one percent of one year's production. Inasmuch as the best candidates for towing have already escaped from the zone of pack ice to more northerly latitudes, the life span of these icebergs is changed only slightly and their loss would hardly be noticed.

During transit, an unprotected iceberg would produce a low salinity plume of cooied sea water and air, but presumably this would diffuse rapidly.

At the destination, a moored iceberg would definitely have the potential to

affect its local environment, mainly by cooling the surrounding sea and air.

The magnitude of these effects would be controlled largely by the processing techniques, but the production of local fog and condensation appears to be a strong possibility. At many of the potential delivery sites the effects of such local cooling could well be considered an improvement (and possibly an attraction).

Potentially, the largest adverse effect would be on the local sea life, but if the iceberg were encapsulated in order to capture the fresh meltwater, these effects would be lessened.

What's next?

The possibility of iceberg utilization has stimulated considerable interest in what was an almost totally neglected aspect of polar oceanography.

This interest is likely to continue until the idea either becomes an operational reality or is finally laid to rest. Currently, attention is being given to iceberg drift tracks and histories via the use of satellite imagery; arrangements are being made for field teams to visit and make measurements on icebergs located far north in the southern ocean; and experiments are under way to study the details of the iceberg-melti.ng process and of the physics of iceberg tows.

As individuals interested in the geophysics of snow and ice, we are understandably pleased by all of this activity.

However, we would like to emphasize that even if geophysical factors are favorable, engineering procedures for processing and docking must also be made feasible, and the system's overall economics must be competitive. These areas of the problem have hardly been explored.

Certainly there are enough challenges to keep geophysicists, engineers, economists, and businesspeople occupied for some time. Yet the utilization of icebeJ'gs as a fresh water and energy source-at ' favorable sites in the Southern Hemisphere -appears to be a promising, if elusive, 0 possibility.

About the Authors: w.F. Weeks and Malcolm Mellor are with the Cold Regions Research and Engineerirlg Laboratory in Hanover, New Hampshire. Weeks has been the president of the International Glaciological Society. Mellor is secretary of the International Commission on Snow and Ice and editor of the journal Cold Regions'

Science and Technology.

nuclear missile systems of the Soviet Union.

Why shouldn't the Soviets be delighted to freeze the situation with regard to theater nuclear weapons where it stands now, as proposed by President Leonid Brezhnev? In contrast, the offer of the United States, on behalf of the NATO Alliance, to negotiate on the limitation of land-based, long-range theater nuclear weapons before Western deployments take place is an eminently fair approach to halting the further buildup in nuclear weaponry on both sides.

I must point out here that, despite the clearly documented reasons for the NATO decisions, the distinguished representative of the Soviet Union, in his statement during our meeting on March 26, asserted that like all the actions of the Soviet Union in its buildup of offensive military capability, those relating to Europe were purely and completely defensive responses to actions taken by others.

But I wonder what he had in mind when, for example, he stated that while the Soviet Union admittedly has a large number of tanks, NATO has a large number of antitank weapons.

Perhaps he wanted us to believe that the Soviet Union had to build and deploy all those tanks 'to defend against all those antitank weapons!

We have heard much during our debates here abom the malign effects of international tension of arms control and disarmament efforts, as though international tension were an epidemic for whose spread all militarily significant nations were equally responsible.

But would the level of international tension be so high if the buildup in Soviet military strength which I have briefly touched upon had not occurred, or if it has been more moderate? Or if there had been no invasion and suppressing of Afghanistan?

Or if surrogate forces encouraged by Moscow had not been at work in other parts of the world to thwart the desires of free people for true political self-determination and independence?

While we are on the subject of military buildups and the causes of tension, I would like to note ahother element of asymmetry between the two main military groupings that has been largely ignored in our debates. Many speakers have regaled us with quotations from the International Herald Tribune and other American journals concerning military programs that are under consideration-or even simply advocated by individuals-in the United States or in the NATO Alliance.

In contrast, we know nothing from the media in the Soviet Union or from statements by political leaders about Soviet military planning until the missiles, aircraft and ships begin to be deployed, or other action taken.

We Americans cherish our free press dearly, and I hope that the rest of my colleagues here appreciate the unique opportunity they have to follow the debates within our nation that illuminate the rationale for proceeding or not proceeding with specific military programs. If the day were ever to come when we could read similar open discussions in Pravda or Izvestia, the climate of confidence would improve immensely.

Now let me return to the question of whether nuclear deterrence serves the interest of world peace and security. In the current international situation there are simply no good alternatives. This does not mean, however, that we necessarily expect deterrence to serve forever. An arms race is not to our interest nqr to the interest of the Soviet society.

The United States, in conjunction with its Allies, has undertaken serious efforts to find' negotiated solutions to the dangerous and regrettable buildup of armaments. I have already

made reference to the U.S. offer to negotiate equal and verifiable limits on long-range, land-based theater nuclear forces.

With regard to strategic nuclear weapons, there has been criticism in this forum of the United States failure to ratify the SALT II agreement. As is well known, that development was due to a combination of factors, not the least of which was the wanton Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, an act which called into question the Soviet Union's willingness to live up to its commitments to international agreements.

For its part, the United States, while undertaking its review of arms control and security policies, is continuing to act in a restrained and responsible manner, conscious of its commitment to peace and stability.

In this regard, I would like to quote from a statement by the official spokesman of the U.S. Department of State, who said on March 3 of this year: "While we are reviewing our SALT policy, we will take no action that would undercut existing agreements so long as the Soviet Union exercises the same restraint."

As the new Reagan Administration has made clear, the United States is not prepared to freeze through agreement a situation in which there is an imbalance favoring the Soviet Union; at the same time, the United States continues to wish to pursue a SALT process that brings about meaningful reductions in nuclear weapons.

Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger also spoke about the SALT process in a television interview of March 29. He said: "The attempt to ,reach an effecti~e limitation of strategic arms is an extremely valuable and vital one, and we are perfectly ready to engage in it if the Soviets do not demonstrate by their behavior that it's perfectly useless to engage in it."

The approach of the United States with regard to strategic arms limitations is clearly on the record.

0

ij ~ I "Hold it! Our arms agreement specifies that no rocks over two feet in diameter may be used!"

THOMAS O'NEILL

STROM THURMOND

DONALD REGAN

WILLIAM

WHO'S IN CHARGE WHEN A PRESIDENT IS OUT OF ACTION;J "Who's minding the store?"

(Who's making decisions at the White House?) President Ronald Reagan joked wanly as he was wheeled into the operating room to have a would-be assassin's bullet removed op March 30, 1981.

The question, intended as a sign of presidential good humor as he faced the ordeal of surgery, had a serious side to it as well.

Actually, at that moment, Vice President George Bush, constitutionally next in line to the presidency in case of death or disability of the president, was flying back to Washington from Texas, in touch with all the lines of power in the capital.

While awaiting Bush's arrival, Secretary of State Alexander Haig took charge in the White House situation room and told a news conference: "As of now, I am in control of the government, pending the return of the vice president, and in close touch with him."

As soon as Bush arrived, he issued a statement: "I can assure this nation and the watch-

ing world this nation is functioning fully and effectively."

Following the assassination attempt, President Reagan's Deputy Press Secretary, Larry Speakes, said, 'The U.S. Government did not skip a beat; the White House performed effectively."

Denying news reports that Haig's actions had caused controversy within the executive branch, Speakes said, "There was not a single ripple. There was a complete spirit of cooperation. It was a team effort."

The attempt on the president's life has stirred up interest in the procedures to transfer government authority in the United States when the president is incapacitated.

Under the U.S. constitution, the vice president becomes president immediately upon the death or resignation of the president.

But who is in charge during other critical periods, gray areas when a president may be incapacitated, either mentally or physically? Who decid,es when the president is capable of

SMITH

Attorney General

taking charge and when he is remained an elective office. But not? And who would succeed scholars felt it had several drawto the presidency if the new backs. president (the former vice presiFirst, the speaker has often dent) should also die or be been from the opposition party. incapacitated?

When the Democrat Truman These questions troubled the proposed it, the speaker was writers of the U.S. Constitution a Republican, Joseph Martin. in 1787, and the procedures they When Dwight Eisenhower, a outlined have been revised and Republican, had a heart attack refined since that time. in 1953, the speaker was a In 1792 the u.s. Congress Democrat, Sam Rayburn. When passed a law that the next in Republican Richard Nixon reline, after the vice president, signed in 1974, the speaker would be the Speaker of the was Democrat Carl Albert. And House of Representatives, today, while Republican ReaIn 1886, it changed that to the gan is president, the speaker is Secretary of State, followed by Thomas P. O'Neill, a Democrat.

The Truman proposal violatother cabinet officers-treasury, ed the principle of continuity war, attorney general, etc.

But in 1947 President Harry of policy, scholars said. It also Truman, a vice president who , violated the principle of separahad suddenly become president tion of executive and legislative on President Franklin Roose- power, a cornerstone of the velt's death, suggested returning U.S. constitution.

In 1967, four years after Preto the original idea of putting the speaker next in line followed sident John F. Kennedy's assasby the senior majority member sination, the United States (president pro tempore) of 'the passed the present 25th amendSenate, then the cabinet officers. ment to the constitution. Under Truman argued that this it, the new president (the former would insure that the presidency vice president) nominates a new

vice president to be confirmed by a majority of both Houses of Congress. The new vice president then becomes next in line to the presidency.

The amendment was first applied in 1974, when Vice President Gerald Ford became president on Nixon's resignation. Ford named Nelson Rockefeller to be his new vice president. If Ford had died before Rockefeller's confirmation, the speaker would have been next in line, followed by the president pro tem of the Senate, the Secretary of State, and other cabinet members.

That is still the law of the land.

Other formal emergency procedures exist to transfer more JAMES WATT

does the vice president take over any of the president's functions, short of a presidential death or resignation?- This is much more difficult to answer.

In 1881 President James Garfield was shot on July 2, but lingered near death for more than two months until he died on September 19.In 1919Woodrow Wilson suffered a stroke in September and was virtually paralyzed while the United States debated membership in the League of Nations, went through a presidential election, and finally swore in a new president, Warren Harding, in March 192I, a year and a half later.

In the interim, who is In charge?

In Garfield's case, his family and advisers exercised his powers de facto, whether constitutionally or not. In Wilson's case, his wife, the former Ellen Galt, virtually ruled in her hus-

RAYMOND DONOVAN

Here's how the 25th amendment, the present law, attempts to deal with that problem: First, it says, the president must tell the U.S. Congress in writing that he is incapable of discharging his duties. At such time the vice president becomes "acting president." The president can resume his powers by sending a second written message to the Congress that he is able to function as president again.

But what if the president suffers some debilitating illness, mental or physical, and cannot, or will not, write such a letter?

Then, the constitutional amendment says, the vice president may take power, if a majority of the cabinet agrees in writing that he should do so.

In ¡case of a power struggle between the president and his cabinet, in which the one says he can function and the other says he cannot, then the Congress must meet within 48 hours and decide the issue within 21 days. To sustain the vice president, both Houses must vote by a two-thirds majority in his favor. Ifnot, the Constitution says, then the president "shall resume

RICHARD SCHWEIKER

limited powers to lower ranking government officials when the president is unable to perform the duties of his office.

The military authority of the presidency-the "national command authority," in official parlance-can be delegated under certain specified circumstances.

The precise conditions for the transfer of command authority are considered secret, but Reagan Administration l;lides have revealed that the Secretary of Defense is authorized to act in place of the president in response to certain military threats that take place during an emergency.

As for the question: When

the powers and duties of his office."

That's the legal, constitutional basis for handling the crisis of a presidential disability. But the real world doesn't always function as textbooks say it should.

Quick decisions must often be made in moments of high tension, such as followed the Reagan shooting March 30. Then the smooth continuity of the government depends on t.hetrust and working relationship that the vice president has established with the president and with the cabinet and other power centers.

Press reports, quoting insiders who know them both, say that Reagan and Bush have established a respect and mutual trust that may be unparalleled in the history of the presidency.

Just a week before the would-be assassin's bullet struck him, Reagan named Bush to take charge of coordinating the response to any crisis the government faced. It was hardly suspected then that the first crisis Bush would face would be the shooting of the president.

Actually, the 'White House says, crisis management was never invoked. Haig functioned in the hours that Bush was airborne from Texas. Bush stepped in smoothly as soon as his plane touched down.

Procedures for the machinery of succession were given a stiff test March 30,and constitutional continuity prevailed.

0

ANDREW LEWIS

JAMES EDWARDS

TERREL BELL

band's name. That was clearly an unsatisfactory, undemocratic situation.

But how could a system be devised to prevent an ambitious vice president-or anyone else-from usurping power by declaring a presidential disability unilaterally and taking power under that pretext?

Secretary of Education

u.s. CELEBRATIONS

OF

Manifestations of Shiva "The manifold aspects in which Shiva appears may bewilder the Westerner. ...

Yet, although these images derive from often obscure religious symbolism, the Western eye can be exhilarated by the imagination, creativity and surging vitality with which stone or metal has been imbued with an almost tangibly pulsing rhythmic flow of life."

That's how The New York Times described the exhibit "Manifestations of Shiva" that opened at the Philadelphia Museum of Art on March 29. And Newsweek wrote: "A fine, didactic exhibition ... demonstrating the fecundity of Indian art."

The most significant and comprehensive exhibition of Indian art in the United States to focus on a religious theme-in fact on a single Hindu deity-the Shiva exhibit is made up of some 200 temple stone and metal sculptures and paintings, some of them dating back to the second century B.C. An unusual feature is the large segment, nearly a third, given over to miniature paintings about Shiva, which even in India are rare compared to the paintings that have Krishna's pastoral adventures as their theme.

Some of the works in the show, notes an American scholar of Indian art, rank with the world's best. "The artists responsible for creating Shiva's innumerable representations," he continues, "were, for the most, unknown. Only occasionally is the personal impress of one of these geniuses discernible, but, if their names in fact were known, it is generally conceded that they would rank with, say, Michelangelo. But the fact is artistic anonymity harmonized with Hinduism's ultimate aim: the absorption of the individual into the Absolute."

As if this were not enough, the city of Philadelphia, to complement the exhibit, organized a large number of other months-long programs highlighting the rich artistic traditions of India. The Philadelphia museum, for example, organized an "India Day on the Parkway" with Indian music, dancing, food, games, elephant and camel rides, kiteflying, Kathakali and a fashion show. Sarod maestro Ali Akbar Khan gave a recital, Rita Devi a dance performance and Kapila Vatsayan lectured on Indian classical dance.

"India's Unique Wildlife, Astronomy, Art, Literature" was the theme of another program at the Academy of Natural Sciences, which presented a daily show from March to May entitled "Animals of India." Another daily program at the Franklin Institute showed how star lore has become integrated with Indian music and art.

"This is a whole new world. This is not an exhibition; it is a virtual cultural invasion," remarked an exuberan.t Philadelphian, echoing the sentiments of thousands other who thronged the exhibit each day. Almost every school and college in the city arranged guided tours of the exhibit for their students. Teachers of all levels were invited for workshops on the teaching of Hindu customs and art.

"We knew from the beginning that the Shiva exhibit would be a big hit," said an excited official of the Philadelphia museum. "We are an art-minded people, and the city itself abounds in museums. Every major building here has art displays. We were, in fact, so excited that months in advance there were banners all over saying: 'Shiva is corning.'"

Sponsored by the Indo-U.S. Subcommission on Education and Culture, the exhibit itself was the brainchild of Dr. Stella Krarnrisch. Professor and curator of Indian art at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Dr. Kramrisch has spent a lifetime studying the art of India, and has done more than anyone

else to interpret and popularize Indian art and philosophy to Americans and to the world. It took her almost 10 years of planning and painstaking research to assemble "Manifestations of Shiva," which after it closes in Philadelphia on June 7 will tour three other American cities-Fort Worth, Texas; Seattle, Washington; and Los Angeles, Californiafor the next 12 months. Dr. Kramrisch's own interest in Shiva is sti:l1older. She says, "I really found my way to Shiva" in the Rig- Veda, which she translated many years back.

Talking about the exhibit, she says: "Looking at a display of sculptures and paintings devoted to Shiva can lead us to experience what is Shiva, who is Shiva."

Shiva, according to Joseph Dye, a scholar of Indian art who has written a guide to the exhibit, is "motion and c;alm, male and female, light and dark, ascetic and lover, everything and its opposite."

A god of such consequence is "limitless and unfettered, exceeding all definition."

He is the creator, preserver and the destroyer.

Speaking during the opening ceremonies. the Indian Ambassador to the United States, K.R. Narayanan, said: "If there is a god of the present nuclear age, I would say L9rd Shiva with his dance of destruction is the appropriate god. What is redeeming is he is ... also the creator and preserver."

0

Columbia's Triumph A color feature on the space shuttle. Columbia's triumph has opened the door to a new era in which the exploration of space may lead to the exploitation of space-orbiting factories, space colonies and a vast array of communications.

Give Your Child a Good Start A child's discovery of the world begins even before he enters school. This article explains how parents can guide the child's sensory and motor development, so necessary for his mental development in later years.

The Waste Land Revisited In a vigorous attack on, and defense of, Eliot's modern classic, Sisirkumar Ghose and C.D. Narasimhiah reconsider the beloved poem of their youth.

Mexican Americans: A People on the Move More than 7.5 million Americans of Mexican origin live in the United States. Although their family income is below the national average, they are fast moving upward economically, and are becoming powerful politically.

u.s.

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Churning the Milky Ocean Indian ,Art in America In this painting from the collection of the Seattle Art Museum, the gods have just concluded a pact with the demons to chum the ocean together in order to find the nectar of immortality.

Vishnu sits majestically on mount Meru (the polar mountain), which becomes the churning stick; Vasuki, the serpent, becomes the churning rope; the gods pull on one side, the demons on the otber ••At first poison comes up, but Sbiva drinks it all, his neck going blue in the process. When the pot of nectar finany issues out of the depths, Vishnu turns himself into a beautiful damsel, spirits away th~ magic potion t and gives it to the gods. :-.

The medieval sculpture, from the Philadelphia Art Museum, on the back cover shows Brahmani, the first to emerge in creation as the consort to Brahma, the creator. Like ber lord, she has four faces, endowed with the know.ledge of the four Vedas.

Holding the string and the water pot, Brabma's attribules, she dances, the jewelry of the girdle huggiug her hips. Unlike' most of her images, this figure of Brahmani is life-size.

American interest in Indian art goes back many decades; scholars bave written volumes on it and many museums had already built up rich collections in tbeearly years of the century.

A special exhibition, "Mani· festations of Shiva" (see page 48), is now ·touring four American cities in the United States: Pbiladelphia, Seattle, Fort Worth and Los Angeles.

(Transparencies and background /lOles on the artworks by Geeli Sen. Courtesy: Seattle and Philadelphia Art Museums.)

Churning the Milky Ocean (above), Basholi painting; size 21 em x 15.6 em; gift of Dr. and Mrs. Sherman E. Lee; Seattle Art Museum.

Brahmani (back cover).

Maru-Gurjara school, central India, circa 1100; sandstone; Philadelphia Art Museum.