ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, October 1, 1995                   TAG: 9509290008
SECTION: EDITORIAL                    PAGE: G-3   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: SAM G. RILEY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


REVIEWING TENURE

"LIE-DETECTOR tests for fishermen?" I asked, astonished.

Friends who have retired to the coast were describing sport-fishing tournaments that require winners to submit to a polygraph before receiving their prize money. Prizes in some of these contests now amount to as much as $1 million, and unprincipled fishermen have found ways to circumvent contest rules. With smaller species of fish, a contest-winning catch had even been frozen, then smuggled aboard, thawed out, and "caught" again to win big bucks for a second year.

Testing in sporting competitions isn't unique to fishing, of course. Track-and-field athletes often must submit to drug testing to justify their victories. Was it talent that won the high hurdles, or was it the product of chemistry? Boxers and weightlifters, as well as football, basketball and baseball players, are also tested for drug use. Some cheat, so justification becomes necessary.

In August came a report of similar cheating in livestock shows. Steers are now being "beefed up" by injection of special steroids. Other cheaters use cosmetic surgery to remove a steer's neck flab, or glued-on hair to improve the looks of the animal's legs. Such goings-on threaten to change the H's in 4-H to "head, hands, heart and hype." Again, drug testing is required to provide justification.

Consider, too, the almost-Miss Virginia, whose resume contained inaccuracies that cost her the crown. The runner-up and present wearer of that crown then had to submit her own resume to an unusually stringent process of justification before being granted the title.

Also, consider the National Obsession, the O.J. trial. It is in the natural order of things that the defense team sought to justify Simpson's behavior around the time of his wife's death. The trial, however, was allowed to drag on for so long that it spun off multiple needs for justification, rather in the manner of a large hurricane that spawns tornados.

Detective Mark Fuhrman, for example, had to attempt to justify ethnic slurs. Judge Lance Ito, married to Los Angeles' highest-ranking woman police officer, had to justify their relationship amid conflict-of-interest issues. The O.J. trial should have centered on the question of Simpson's guilt or innocence, but the trial took place in the era of justification.

One assumes that very few beauty-pageant contestants' resumes contain information that can't be supported by the facts. Surely only a handful of athletes use performance-enhancing drugs. And even fishermen, who might tell an occasional tall tale, are unlikely to go in for wholesale cheating in tournaments.

Still, the sins, mistakes or shortcomings of the few will result in the inconvenience of the many. Justification will be demanded.

This year, those of us who are tenured faculty at Virginia's colleges and universities appear likely to be told we must go to extra lengths to justify what we do. The usual name for this justification process is "post-tenure review." This process is, in effect, a means by which those who supervise us can determine whether we are 1) hard-working, dedicated teacher-scholars, or 2) merely slumping along toward retirement, doing as little as possible.

The institution of tenure is under attack, partly for fear that tenure is the refuge of the lazy. Professors, on the other hand, will point out that we are all rated annually according to the quality and quantity of our accomplishments in teaching, research and scholarship, and service. Our students rate us on the courses we teach, and when we go up for promotion, reviewers from outside our own institutions are asked to comment on our scholarship and research.

Clearly, a lot of information is already available on the activities of all faculty, including those with tenure. Perhaps still more information will need to be collected. Or perhaps we have simply not summarized the material already collected in such a way that will satisfy those who oversee our work.

We professors' initial reaction to post-tenure review might be to snort with indignation and grumble among ourselves. The vast majority of us know that we work hard - in many cases, harder than ever. But if our political leaders want proof, we will have to provide it. And if it is true that a few of our number aren't doing their jobs adequately, then improvements need to be made. A good post-tenure review process will not be done to embarrass or summarily dismiss tenured individuals but will be designed to encourage improvement.

As I sat near a restaurant window pondering this issue, I looked out and saw a nearby car's novelty license-plate titled "The Fisherman's Creed." It read, "Early to bed, early to rise; fish like hell, and make up lies."

Unlike these fishermen, we professors must provide honest, accurate information if it is demanded of us. We must show anyone interested that darned few of us turn into Rip Van Winkle after gaining tenure, that personal pride and fondness for our students prevent this from happening.

We must remind ourselves that this is the era of justification and that the sins of the few bring inconvenience to the many. If post-tenure review is demanded, we must, so to speak, fish or cut bait.

Sam G. Riley is a professor of communication studies at Virginia Tech.



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