Robert E. Wall graduated from the University of Illinois in 1957. Presently he is a research fellow in applied mathematics and a resident tutor in Dunster House.

Higher education in the Midwest is entrusted primarily to the state universities, the sprawling, peculiarly American institutions renowned for huge enrollments and semi-professional football teams. Unlike the privately endowed schools of the East, they grew not out of religious zeal or emulation of the great universities of Europe, but from the demands of an increasingly technological economy.

My own undergraduate institution, the University of Illinois, was chartered under the first Morrill act of 1862, which gave federal land to each state for the "endowment, support, and maintenance of at least one college where the leading object shall be, without excluding other scientific and classical studies, and including military tactics, to teach such branches of learning as are related to agriculture and the mechanic arts, in order to promote the liberal and practical education of the industrial classes in the several pursuits and professions in life."

These "land-grant" colleges (which thus began with what many fear may be the free university's end-a grant from the federal government) have been faithful to their pragmatic ancestry, wedding agriculture and the mechanic arts to other studies to produce an academic melange that is comprehensive or chaotic, depending on one's point of view.

At Illinois, the Colleges of Agriculture and Engineering comprise about 25 percent of the undergraduate enrollment, the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences about 40 per cent, with the rest divided among Commerce, Fine and Applied Arts, Education, Aviation, Journalism, and Physical Education. Many states (Michigan, for example) have chosen to separate the "cow college" from the "university," and California has gone even further in specializing its various branches. Illinois, however, except for the medical school and a two-year undergraduate division in Chicago, mixes everything happily on the Champaign-Urban campus, a fact which was impressed upon me in my freshman year when I found my chemistry section meeting directly opposite a room whose frosted glass door proclaimed disquietingly, "Swine."

Illinois' enrollment of over 35,000 ranks it seventh in size among the universities in the country, but it will soon grow dramatically when a new four-year undergraduate branch in Chicago is completed. Nine thousand students are expected when it opens in 1964, and within five years it will expand to 20,000 with provisions "to grow as conditions demand beyond that time."

Extravagant Growth

Responding to the increasing population and increasing demand for college education with extravagant growth is a characteristic result of the egalitarian educational philosophy of the Illinois State Legislature, which has virtually complete financial control over the University. The right of every citizen to a free elementary and secondary education has long been recognized, and this principle has been extended to the conclusion that a college education also is a tax-bought commodity which is collectable on demand. Until very recently, the only requirement for admission to the University of Illinois was graduation from an accredited high school in the state. Students who stood in the lowest quarter of their classes were received on probation, but admitted, nonetheless. Non-residents, on the other hand, have always been required to present evidence of somewhat greater ability (and are charged more for tuition), but now that the flood of applicants and the physical limitations have forced some kind of restriction on admissions, even for residents, plan has been instituted for deferring inferior students until late in the application period and accepting them only if space remains.

For the student, a state university may be the only opportunity for college education, particularly if he is impecunious (tuition for Illinois residents in $85 a term) or if his qualifications are unlikely to recommend him to a more selective school. However, the lack of selectivity which is decreed by the State imposes a serious burden on the University. Each year hundreds of students with infinitesimal academic capabilities must be admitted, housed, fed and seated in classrooms. And, unless standards are to be thoroughly profaned, after a semester or two they must be flunked out. The proponents of this trial-by-fire policy argue that no admissions system is perfect and, therefore, that everyone, particularly at a state university, should have the chance to prove himself. On the other hand, many professors and administrators decry the wastefulness of the policy, which strains the facilities of the University to accommodate a large number of unqualified students who will shortly be sent ingloriously home with little or nothing to show for their efforts.

The plans for the new Chicago branch indicate, among other things, that the adherents of greater selectivity have been silenced at least for the moment, and that the Legislature still regard the optimum size of the University as that which will have space for all who apply. Some other states have established two-year junior colleges for the doubtfully prepared or those with limited educational aims, but very little relief of this kind for the University of Illinois seems to be in prospect.

Results of State Support

The consequences of state support for the University of Illinois are far reaching and entail much more than misplaced educational egalitarianism. For example, in addition to producing the skilled graduates and the practically oriented research that will benefit the State, the University is also expected to provide a number of miscellaneous services for the general public. These may vary from advice on problems of agriculture and home economics to medical care for crippled children. The Administration boasts that its tripartite commitment to "education, research, and service" makes it a "new and American contribution to the idea of a university," and it is true that one does not often think of universities as agencies for the administration of public welfare services.

One problem is that there seems to be no clear-cut limit to the types of activities that are thought suitable for the University to perform. Another is the implication that the University must justify its maintenance to the taxpayers by the materials benefits which they receive from it. A pamphlet from the University's Office of Public Information points out that "traceable returns from research alone repay every year to the people of Illinois more than the cost of building and operating the University since it opened in 1868."

The fact that the State is financially responsible for the University need not entail regulation of its other activities, but it is certain that the State would not long maintain an institution whose policies were widely at variance with its own. When matters of academic freedom or the expression of controversial opinions brings the interests of the University and the State government into direct opposition, the State of Illinois prevails. Harvard may have the luxury of debating how much governmental influence it can tolerate; the central problem of the state university is to survive in virtually complete dependence on a customarily narrow-minded and tight-fisted legislature.

One instance of the University Legislature conflict was the prohibition of political speakers on the campus which prevailed while I was an undergraduate. The reason given for this peculiar ban was that the State could not give the appearance of sponsoring any political party and might become involved in disputes over "equal time."