Gilbert Allardyce

The Rise and Fall of the Western Civilization Course
Author(s): Gilbert Allardyce

Source: The American Historical Review, Vol. 87, No. 3 (Jun., 1982), pp. 695-725
Published by: Oxford University Press on behalf of the American Historical Association
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AHR Forum
The Rise and Fall of the

Western Civilization Course
GILBERT ALLARDYCE
"THE MOST DIFFICULT QUESTION WHICH NOW CONFRONTS THE COLLEG

history seems, by general agreement, to be the first year of the colleg
remarked Harvard historian Charles Homer Haskins in 1905 to the American
Historical Association (AHA). Historians, Haskins explained, having established
specialized instruction in their discipline at advanced college levels, now faced the
new task of developing a course to serve the general education of freshmen and
sophomores. This project, carried forward by the next generation, led to the
Western Civilization course.
The rise of "Western Civ" is one of the great success stories in the history of the
historical profession in America. For a time between the First World War and t
campus protests of the 1960s, all roads led to the Western Civ class. Compulsory
enrollment requirements at many institutions brought liberal arts students from
every discipline, and from science programs and professional schools came others
in mass numbers to brush with "culture" in a class renowned for grand ideas and
great books. Classrooms filled, budgets bulged, teachers multiplied. In the discus-
sion sections that became a feature of the course virtually everywhere, three
generations of "teaching assistants," the best and the brightest graduate students in
European history, began their apprenticeship in college instruction. Western Civ,
more than any other academic invention, brought European history to power in the
college curriculum, and the easy acceptance of the class in colleges across the
country indicated that it represented an idea about the Old World whose time had
come. By hindsight, scholars have interpreted the course as a product conditioned
by the era of the two world wars, a time when Americans envisioned themselves as
partners with the European democracies in a great Atlantic civilization, formed
from a common history, challenged by a common enemy, and destined to a
common future.2 If so, Western Civ not only expressed this particular ideal of
Some of the research for this essay was supported by a grant from the School of Graduate Studies and
Research, University of New Brunswick. I wish to thank my colleague Professor Ann Gorman Condon for her
advice and encouragement.
1 "Report of the Conference on the First Year of College Work in History" in The Annual Report of
American Historical Association for 1905, 1 (Washington, 1906): 149.
2 Leonard Krieger, "European History in America," in John Higham et al., History (Englewood Cliffs, N.J
1965), 235-313.
695
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America's place in history but educated youth of the period to see the world in these
terms. Historians are accustomed to writing about men of influence in human
affairs. When they write the history of their own influence in the present century,
the Western Civilization course will have an important place in the story.
Today, the grand old course still clings to life at various schools. At many other
locations, however, it passed with the passing of the 1960s. Somewhat suddenly,
after a half-century of uninterrupted success, Western Civ seemed less appealing to
students and less defensible to faculty. In a period of expansion, experiment, and
self-expression, the venerable reputation of the course was no match for the moral
force of a curricular philosophy of laissez faire, education without compulsion or
prerequisites. When compulsion stopped, enrollment dwindled, and across the
nation, one after the other, Western Civ courses were decommissioned like old
battleships. Easy come, easy go.
After every revolution, however, comes Thermidor. Looking back on the old
course, historians at an AHA session in 1976 returned to the problem of the
introductory course. There Professor William H. McNeill of the University of
Chicago explained that Western Civ originated in "a great idea about the whole
human past," the idea of history as the evolution of freedom. This notion, now
described quaintly as the Whig interpretation of history, once provided a vision
useful and inspiring. But with time, McNeill remarked, the vision faded, the idea
was no longer believed, and new material mingled with the old subject matter,
clouding over the central theme. Western Civ became a jumble, a course without
memory of its own origins or convictions. When challenged, historians in this proud
tower gave up without a fight, retreating into the sanctuaries of their own special
areas. The result, McNeill observed, was to turn history programs into a pyramid
without a base, a superstructure of advanced courses without the supporting
foundation of an introductory class where students could be prepared and
recruited. His lament was not that historians failed to defend an outmoded concept
of the past but that they had failed to develop a new one to take its place. This he
found "amazing, suicidal, absurd"-"the central failure of our profession in the last
two decades." Historians, it appeared, were on the road that teachers of the classics
had followed to irrelevance and antiquarianism. "The only thing that can rescue us
from such a fate,"- McNeill concluded, "is to find something worth teaching to
undergraduates en masse: something all educated persons should know; something
every active citizen ought to be familiar with in order to conduct his life well and
perform his public duties effectively."3
MCNEILL'S STATEMENT IS THE WINGED LANGUAGE of the general education philoso-

phy, the ideal of the civilizing mission of colleges to educate citizens for community
life. His remarks in this connection can be recognized as part of a revival in the
1970s of concern with restoring a curriculum ravaged by protest and change. At
Harvard in 1974, Dean Henry Rosovsky deplored the loss of "an older community
3McNeill et al., "Beyond Western Civilization: Rebuilding the Survey," History Teacher, 10 (1977):
509-15.
Rise and Fall of the Western Civilization Course 697
of beliefs and values" and called upon his faculty to "redefine our collegiate
purpose."4 The resulting reconstruction of a core curriculum at Harvard was only
the most conspicuous success in a resurgence of general education that continues
across the nation. Therefore, the proper time has come to review the story of
Western Civ. It was the pre-eminent course of the earlier general education
movement, sharing all of the ideals and illusions of the movement itself. To study
the rise and fall of Western Civ, indeed, is to study the historical background to
present debates about the curriculum.
The history of the course is written here in terms of the concept of general
education. "General education," explained a committee of educators in 1947, "is the
term that has come to be accepted for those phases of nonspecialized and
nonvocational learning which should be the common experience of all educated
men and women."5 The movement for general education is best understood,
however, in connection with its origins after 1900 as an emotional response to the
perceived "chaos" of the new elective system. American higher education was then
in the closing decade of a historic transformation that, within a single generation,
sundered the classical curriculum of the old liberal arts colleges and installed the
specialized programs of the modern university. Historians have explained how this
"academic revolution" between 1870 and 1910 established the reign of the graduate
school, professional disciplines, and research.6 Generally associated with President
Charles William Eliot of Harvard, the elective system was truly the guillotine of this
revolutionary process, dismembering the curriculum in the name of the equality of
courses and the liberty of students to choose among them. Underlying the elective
system was a philosophy of diversity, a perception that the "knowledge explosion"
and the modern division of labor required men to vary their purposes and the
community to divide its talents. "For the individual," Eliot advised, "concentration,
and the highest development of his own particular faculty, is the only prudence.
But for the State, it is variety, not uniformity, of intellectual product, which is
needful."7 To some, the resulting system of "curricular do as you please" was th
principle of liberty in education; to others, it was the law of the jungle.
One response was the general education movement. Without original thinkers or
founding texts, it began in an emotion to integrate modern learning into forms
comprehensible and useful to nonspecialists. A freshman without comprehension
of the unity of knowledge, explained historian Preserved Smith, was not prepared
to grasp the meaning of separate disciplines. "At the very outset of the college
course," he urged, the student should have "set before him, in a panorama
4 Rosovsky, "A Letter to the Faculty on Undergraduate Education, October 1974," Harvard University
Archives, Cambridge, Mass. [hereafter, HUA].
5HigherEducationforAmericanDemocracy:A Report ofthePresident's Commission onHigherEducation (N
1947), 49. See further Lewis B. Mayhew, "General Education: A Definition," in Mayhew, ed., GeneralEducation:
An Account and Appraisal (New York, 1960), 1-24. The history of general education remains to be written.
Useful is Russell Thomas, The Search for a Common Learning: General Education, 1800-1960 (New York,
1962).
6 Laurence R. Veysey, The Emergence of the American University (Chicago, 1965); and Richard Hofstadter,
"The Revolution in Higher Education," in Arthur M. Schlesinger and Morton White, eds., Paths of American
Thought (Boston, 1963), 269-90.
7 Eliot, A Turming Point in Higher Education: The Inaugural Address of Charles William Eliot as Pre
Harvard College (Cambridge, Mass., 1969), 10.
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infinitely reduced in scale but true to proportion, the whole scheme of things entire
as we know them."8 The community of scholars in America, such men believed,
must be a democratic community, citizens educated as undergraduates in shared
values that made possible an enlightened public consensus. General education,
therefore, was a philosophy of unity: unity of knowledge, unity of the curriculum,
unity of education and life. Thus is revealed its historical significance as a defensive
reaction arising at the close of the academic revolution against the forces that
threatened to engulf higher education: specialization, professionalism, and voca-
tional training. These things taught individuals to be different; general education
taught them what they should know in common.
There is an old saw to the effect that changing a curriculum is like trying to move
a graveyard. On its own, the general education movement was not up to the task.
Specialization was the prevailing tide in higher education; general education merely
slackened the flow. Even this limited success, however, depended on influences
outside of the movement itself. In particular, the history of general education is
inseparable from the period of the world wars, when, for a time, a sense of common
purpose caused the language of the movement to strike a responsive chord in the
nation. Otherwise, life was difficult. If the ideals of general education-nonspecial-
ized learning, core course requirements, and the interdisciplinary approach-
sustained the movement as a fighting force, they also placed it in opposition to
dominant trends within the university. At most schools, therefore, the program
found a place to grow only in unclaimed areas away from the empires of academic
departments.
Thus developed the movement's preoccupation with the freshman and sopho-
more years. In this no man's land between high school and advanced college work
at the junior-senior level, the Western Civ class emerged as the ancestral course of
the general education curriculum. This article recounts the history of the course in
connection with the four institutions-Harvard, Chicago, Amherst, and Stanford-
represented at the AHA session in 1976, at which Professor McNeill called for
rebuilding freshman history on the general education ideal, and a fifth institution,
Columbia, where-Western Civ purportedly was "invented" in 1919. Admittedly, the
number of schools in this sampling is too limited. Western Civ classes appeared
across the country in immense variety and rich contrast. What is presented here is a
view from the commanding heights. The universities of Chicago, Columbia, and
Harvard dominated the development of general education in the United States,
and each has an official history of its own pioneering role in the movement.9
Amherst and Stanford, by extension, provide contrasting studies of schools directly
influenced by these three great universities. What follows, then, is a selective history
of the Western Civ course, piecing together, in the form of a mosaic, the
experiences of these five institutions.
8 Smith, "The Unity of Knowledge and the Curriculum," Educational Review, 45 (1913): 340.
9 See The Idea and Practice of General Education: An Account of the College of the University of Chicago (Chicago,
1950); A College Program in Action: A Review of the Working Principles at Columbia College (New York, 1946); and
the Harvard report, General Education in a Free Society (Cambridge, Mass., 1945).
ORIGINS OF INTRODUCTORY EUROPEAN HISTORY: HARVARD, 1873-1904. The West-

ern Civ course was a characteristically American invention. The United States
inherited a Western perception of civilization as a process that began in the ancient
Near East, evolved through classical Greece and Rome, and was transmitted to
medieval and modern Europe. European "civilization," in this way, was the sum of
world history. In Europe, historians during the nineteenth century divided this
universal history into separate national strands. Nation-states became the interest of
historians. While national history thus came to dominate schools on the Continent,
however, European history in America commonly continued to be presented en
bloc. As a result, scholars have noted, more European history was taught in the
United States than in Europe itself. Leonard Krieger has explained how this
continuing perception of Europe as a unit gave the writing of European history in
the United States a bent for broad interpretation, a concern with common
experiences underlying national differences. What was stressed, therefore, was not
political flux but the enduring achievements of the mother culture. What made
Europe a "civilization," remarked John Franklin Jameson in 1890, was not politics
but culture; in thought and letters, he explained, American historians would
discover "abundant evidence of a common European life."l0
The organizing ideas for Western Civ were, therefore, long present in historical
consciousness. What gave them new meaning in the early twentieth century,
scholars have concluded, was the emergence of the United States from isolation to
partnership with Europe in a wider world. But Western Civ did not come into
existence fully assembled, nor was it conceived in one swoop at Columbia in 1919.
Rather, the course and the concept came together piece by piece, not by grand
design but as a makeshift response to the effects of the academic revolution on the
history curriculum. Stated briefly, specialization and the elective system created, by
reflex, the need for a general course.
Beginning the story with Harvard is instructive, because Harvard was the
hothouse of the elective system and thus the place where the special problems of the
introductory course in history emerged most clearly. The subject of history had no
place in the classic liberal arts and only gradually did it intrude-beginning at the
junior-senior level-upon the curriculum. When President Eliot was inaugurated in
1869, for example, all history at Harvard was taught by a "dear old gentleman"
without training in the discipline. But the elective system was the undoing of his
kind. Out went the amateurs and in came the experts: more courses, more fields-
and more confusion. In describing the curriculum of 1884, one professor admitted
that junior-senior offerings in history were expanding without order or direction,
with everything in "more or less confusion."" Out of this disorder was born the
10 Fritz Stern, "Europe's Past and America's Experience," in Joseph S. Roucek, ed., The Teaching of History
(New York, 1967), 27; Krieger, "European History in America"; andJameson, "The Development of Modern
European Historiography," Atlantic Monthly, 66 (1890): 322.
11 Henry E. Scott, "The Course of Study in History, Roman Law, and Political Economy at Harvard
University," in A. D. White, ed., Methods of Teaching History (Boston, 1886), 170. On Harvard's "dear old
gentleman," Henry W. Torrey, see Samuel Eliot Morison, Three Centuries of Harvard (Cambridge, Mass., 1936),
293, 347.
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introductory course. As early as 1873 a course for sophomores, "Outlines of

General History," was developed out of earlier reading requirements on classical
antiquity. In 1880 it became "History 1: Medieval and Modern History," a course
with a long life to come. Opened to freshmen in 1884, it was established by 1890, in
a regulation that reversed the logic of the elective system, as a prerequisite to
advanced classes in history.12 Specialized instruction at one end of the curric
had made necessary general instruction at the other, a class for freshmen and
sophomores that was comprehensive and preparatory.
Such classes, however, had problems of their own. Eliot reported in 1880 that
old, hide-bound methods of student recitation had "well-nigh disappeared" at
Harvard and that lectures and discussion were in fashion. Remarked a commence-
ment speaker in 1886, "This is one of the greatest educational discoveries of
modern times-that the business of a teacher is to teach." But, as the lecturer came
to head the class, the student disappeared into the audience. The rise of large
introductory courses increased the distance between them. In 1882 only five classes
at Harvard enrolled as many as one hundred students; by 1901 fourteen classes
each had over two hundred. In the following year the university's Committee on
Improving Instruction sounded the alarm: "there is in the college today," it
concluded, "too much teaching and too little studying.",13 Large lecture c
concealed students from faculty surveillance, made standards unenforceable, and
encouraged traffic in lecture notes. Such large classes, the committee reported,
were a practical necessity, but so were new arrangements to bring students out of
the crowd and make them speak again.
History 1 was a case in point. When Professor Archibald Cary Coolidge took over
the course in 1894, the enrollment was 364 and rising. "Three times a week," wrote
Coolidge's biographers, "he lectured to mobs of freshmen and sophomores." But,
as the mobs grew larger, the results of the lecture system became more uncertain.
In 1896 a number of graduate student "assistants" were delegated to inspect lecture
notes and to quiz students individually outside of class. This so-called check-up
system, however, was no favorite with students. Finally, in his last year with the
course in 1903-04, Coolidge restructured History 1, reducing lectures to two per
week and incorporating the "section method," an experiment (already operating in
other Harvard courses) with subdividing large classes into smaller groups for
weekly meetings with graduate assistants.14 So was developed what became kn
in early debates among historians on the introductory course in history as the
"Harvard method": lectures to the mass by a faculty member and sections in the
care of young apprentices.
The lecturer was the great man of the enterprise. Originally a mode to transmit
ancient learning, the lecture method had been revitalized in German universities as
12 Unless otherwise noted, references in this article to course descriptions, regulations, and enrollments are
drawn from annual school catalogues and reports.
13 James Freeman Clarke, Commencement Address, as quoted in Morison, Three Centuries of Harvard
and "Report of the Committee on Improving Instruction in Harvard University" (1902), 4, HUA.
14 Harold J. Coolidge and Robert H. Lord, Archibald Cary Coolidge: Life and Letters (Boston, 1932
Ephraim Emerton and Samuel E. Morison, "History, 1838-1929," in Morison, ed., The Deveklpment of Har
University since the Inauguration of President Eliot, 1869-1929 (Cambridge, Mass., 1930), 170-71.
a means to communicate new knowledge derived from original research. A

crowded classroom of American freshmen, however, was no place for learned
lectures. Instruction here had to be both education and art. The report of the
Committee on Improving Instruction explained in 1902,
The larger these courses grow, the more evident it becomes that the object of the lectures
in them is not so much to impart concrete information as to stimulate thought and
interest in the subject; and since the stimulus depends in part on the attitude in which the
audience stands towards the lecturer, it is important that these courses should be
conducted by the men who have already achieved a reputation. Indeed ... to be effective
the lecture course must be conducted by the best lecturers in the university.
In the Harvard system, therefore, the development of the discussion section did not
so much diminish the lecturer as exalt him-and provide a staff of helots to do the
work. "The function of the instructor is to stimulate and interest his hearers,"
proposed the committee report, "while the responsibility for seeing that the work is
done, for helping and explaining, and for maintaining the standard of the course,
must rest chiefly with the assistants, who come into more immediate contact with
the students." 15
Having formed discussion sections, Coolidge had to give them a purpose. To
him, freshman history was factual history, and quizzes, map drills, and recitations
on lectures and textbooks were the order of the day in section work.16 Elsewhere,
however, this emphasis on memorizing detail was giving way to efforts to promote
understanding through readings from original sources in English translation.
Historians first debated the value of this "source method" at a meeting of the AHA
in 1897; in affirming the prevailing conception of history as a body of knowledge to
be communicated to undergraduates by lectures and textbooks, members approved
a limited and subordinate use of primary materials to "vitalize" events and promote
critical debate. This view, carried into the high schools, became identified with a
democratic education. The Committee of Seven, for example, appointed by the
AHA to recommend a history program for secondary schools, praised the German
contribution to historical studies but observed that German gymnasium methods of
rote learning were "not the system for making American citizens." Habits of
discussion, the committee concluded in 1899, were essential to a system of
individual initiative.17 When, therefore, committee member Charles Homer
Haskins succeeded Coolidge as instructor of History 1 in 1904, the source method
was introduced into the discussion sections. Thus was completed the form of the
introductory course at Harvard. The content took more time.
The Committee of Seven was the first group of professional historians to review
systematically the condition of history in the high schools. The members made no
secret of their ambition to drive out the old, overstuffed course in "General
History," a one-year, headlong survey of "world" history from ancient civilization to
15 "Report of the Committee on Improving Instruction," 7-8.

16 See his remarks to the AHA in 1898, "The New Haven Meeting of the American Historical Association
AHR, 4 (1898-99): 413.
17 AnnualReportoftheAmeicanHistoncalAssociationfor1897 (Washington, 1898), 5; and The Stud
Schoots: Report to the American Historical Association by the Committee of Seven (New York, 1899
702 AHR Forum
modern Europe. To replace it, they recommended a sequence of four courses: first,
in grade nine, ancient history, followed in grade sequence by European history,
English history, and American history. The logic of this "block system" was simply
to extend instruction through high school and to place American history in
European perspective. "American history," remarked a committee member, "is in
the air-a balloon sailing in mid-heaven-unless it is anchored to European
history."18 Although the program was adopted widely in the schools, many
students, it was noticed, made a habit of leapfrogging the "block" on European
history. Reports indicated that pupils completed ancient history (at that time, a
common requirement for college entrance), switched to other subjects in the
following two grades, and returned in their last year to take American history.19
The effect was to strengthen the conviction of those college instructors who, in
discussions on the introductory course, supported European history as the proper
subject for freshmen. "Now the real reason why we introduced into American
colleges this general course on European history," commented Charles Homer
Haskins in 1906, "is because students did not bring it to college with them."20
Haskins was a prominent personality in the advance of this version of the
introductory course. He sat as chairman at various conferences on freshman
history, advocated the cause in the AHA, and promoted his course at Harvard as a
model in the field. Focused on European history, combining lectures and discussion
sections, textbooks and primary sources, History 1 in the early years of this century
no doubt had an important place in debates on the freshman survey. But Haskins
led it backward, not forward, in time. Ancient and American history dominated the
high schools; medieval history, Haskins believed, would educate freshmen to
connect one world with the other. "The year devoted to the Middle Ages," he
proposed, "bridges the gap between ancient and modern studies, but by showing
the remote origin of modern institutions and culture it deepens the sense of
indebtedness to the past and furnishes something of the background so much
needed in our American life."21 In 1904, History 1 became "Medieval European
History."
Elsewhere, the trend was in the other direction. Rising with the "New History"
(about which I will say more later) after the turn of the century, an interest in
modern history spread through colleges and high schools.22 At Harvard itself,
enrollment in History 1 fell from 380 in 1904 to 250 in 1911. The following year,
Haskins reintroduced modern history to the course, and History 1 became
"European History from the Fall of the Roman Empire to the Present Time." The
Harvard course was a descendant of the academic revolution, formed through the
18 Lucy M. Salmon, as quoted in The Study of History in Schools, 194.

19 "Problems of the Freshman Course," History Teacher's Magazine [hereafter, HTM], 1 (1910): 152.
' "Report of the Conference on History in the College Curriculum," in the Annual Report of the American
Historical Association for 1906, 1 (Washington, 1907): 122.
21 Haskins, "The Introductory Course in History," HTM, 1 (1910): 95.
22 Increased demand for modern European history was noted by the Committee of Five, appointed by the
AHA in 1907 to review the recommendations of the Committee of Seven: The Study of History in the Secondaty
Schools: Report to the American Historcal Association by a Committee of Five (New York, 1912), 53-57. Also see th
college survey in Raynor W. Kelsey, "Recent Changes in the Teaching of History in the Colleges and
Universities of the Middle States and Maryland," HTM, 6 (1915): 207-10.
efforts of historians to adjust their methods of instruction to the special features of

the freshman year. Some scholars have interpreted the result as the prototype of
the Western Civ class and recognize Archibald Cary Coolidge as the father of the
course.23 More accurately, however, History 1 was a point of departure. At the star
of the twentieth century, educational thought was already leaving it behind.
THE MAKING OF WESTERN CIV: COLUMBIA, 1905-29. The years after 1905 were a
period of experimentation in the introductory history class. No other course, one
historian observed, matched the pace of innovation in freshman history.24 Signifi-
cantly, these changes took place in an intellectual environment different from that
in which developed the introductory course at Harvard. The counterrevolution was
coming in American education, the movement to restore unity to the undergradu-
ate curriculum. If, to this point, the introductory course in European history was
conditioned by the academic revolution, thereafter it was conditioned by the
reaction of general education.
Columbia led the way. Few schools were more deeply under the German spell of
specialization; few broke out of it with greater vengeance. That shift, that break is
epitomized in the career of Columbia's President Nicholas Murray Butler. He
began as a paladin of professional scholarship, critical of the "idling and dawdling"
of undergraduate work and committed to the hegemony of the graduate school.
Then, after 1900, he followed the journey of educational thought. It led him first to
those seeking to recover the "inner unity" of knowledge and finally, under the
patriotic influence of the First World War, to the cause of a common education for
citizenship. "The more men and women who are being trained up to twenty to
twenty-one years of age without any reference whatever to a particular vocation or
occupation," Butler told the Columbia trustees in 1918, "the better for the
citizenship, the intelligence, and the moral and spiritual life of the nation."25
Such was the background to the creation at Columbia in the following year of the
freshman class in "Contemporary Civilization," mother of Western Civ and-
according to Columbia sources--the progenitor of the general education tradi-
tion.26 This course itself was, however, successor to classes leading back to an early
version of introductory history at Columbia: History A, "Epochs of Ancient,
23 Robert F. Byrnes, "Archibald Cary Coolidge: A Founder of Russian Studies in the United States,"
Review, 37 (1978): 652. For the suggestion that Western Civ was pioneered by H. Morse Stephens at Berkeley
in 1911, see Laurence Veysey, "Stability and Experiment in the American Undergraduate Curriculum," in Carl
Kaysen, ed., Content and Context: Essays on College Education (New York, 1973), 51. In comments to the AHA in
1905, however, Stephens indicated that he was influenced by the Harvard system; "Report of the Conference
on the First Year of College Work in History," 172-73. For a description of his course at Berkeley, see Everett S.
Brown, "Freshman History at the University of California," HTM, 7 (1916): 268-69.
24 Lucy M. Salmon, "Vassar College Introductory Course," HTM, 1 (1910): 145. After first discussing
freshman history in 1901, the AHA took up the subject again at meetings in 1905 and 1906. The ferment
among instructors is revealed in the early volumes of the History Teacher'sMagazine, founded in 1909 to increase
communication between high school and college teachers.
25 Annual Report of the President and Treasurer to the Trustees of Columbia University, 1918 (New York,
On the vogue of the "unity of knowledge" after 1900, see George Haines and Frederick A. Jackson, "A
Neglected Landmark in the History of Ideas," Mississippi Valley Historical Review, 34 (1947-48): 201-20.
Justus Buchler, "Reconstruction in the Liberal Arts," in Dwight C. Miner, ed., A History of Columbia
University on Morningside (New York, 1954), 49.
704 AHR Forum
Medieval, and Modern History." By 1900, this troubled sophomore course in old-
style "general" history was taught in large lecture classes by two young instructors
from the bottom rank of the Department of History. At a time when the AHA was
trying to root out world history from the high schools, Columbia implanted it as an
undergraduate requirement. The result, critics complained, was an overburdened,
chaotic, and unteachable course.27
The man who brought order out of this chaos was James Harvey Robinson.
Robinson never taught History A (although he was assigned to simplify its content)
nor any other introductory course, but no one did more to shape the first-year
history course in American colleges. Scholars remember him for his promotion of
the "New History," a history useful and "progressive," united with the social
sciences and brought to the service of social reform. Just as important was his
promotion of a simplified, thematic, interpretive version of European history for
high schools and colleges, a general history free of "every unessential detail which
serves only to obscure the great issues and transformations of the past."28 Critics
have observed that Robinson was not an original thinker, that he was merely
"representative" of intellectual trends, a propagator of ideas already current among
historians. True enough. But no one represented them better or propagated them
more effectively. At the cost of a career in original scholarship, he committed
himself to the cause of this nonspecialized undergraduate history, and to all of the
committee work, polemics, and textbook writing that went with advancing it within
the educational establishment.
After the publication of Robinson's first textbook in 1903, recalled an admirer,
no one could return to writing introductory history in the old style of past politics.
The crucible of ideas for Robinson's successful line of undergraduate and high
school texts was his popular graduate class at Columbia, "History of the Intellectual
Class in Europe." Where instructors at Harvard began the introductory course as
general history and reduced it over time to the more manageable unit of the
medieval period, Robinson began his class as medieval history and enlarged it to
general history. His students have explained how he started with readings from
medieval documents, extended coverage to the French Revolution, then continued
year by year to reach further into the past for the origins of European ideas and
further into the present for their consequences. As Harry Elmer Barnes remi-
nisced,
The Middle Ages sent him back to pagan culture, pagan culture to the ancient Orient,
oriental culture to the mental life of primitive man.... Similarly, his interest in science
and criticism led him to go forward from the French Revolution to a study of the growth
27 See, for example, the criticisms of Charles Homer Haskins, "The Historical Curriculum in Colleges," in
Minutes of the Second Annual Convention of theAssociation of History Teachrs ofthe Middle States and Maryland, March
11-12, 1904, 17.
28 Robinson, "Sacred and Profane History," in theAnnualReportoftheAmericanHistoricalAssociationfor 1899, 1
(Washington, 1900): 534-35.
29J. Salwyn Schapiro, "James Harvey Robinson,"Journal of Social Philosophy, 1 (1936): 281. For a comparison
of Robinson's works with previous texts in the field, see Luther V. Hendricks,James Harvey Robinson, Teacher of
History (New York, 1946), 68-89.
of modern science and its influence upon material culture and the world of ideas. The
course thus became more universal in its scope and more interpretive in character.30
By 1915 the class syllabus forecast the outline of the Contemporary Civilization
course to come.31
Others had judged such general history to be too vast and disorderly. Robinson
made it manageable by making it "modern." Like most American historians of
Europe at that time, Robinson had been trained in medieval history, and his
appointment at Columbia in 1895 came in recognition of his promise in that field.
Somewhere along the line, however, he turned modernist with a passion. In debate
with Charles Homer Haskins at the AHA in 1907, Robinson argued that medieval
history had been overstressed in college teaching and that coverage of the Middle
Ages should be diminished, simplified, and subordinated to that of modern history.
Robinson became fond of a particular question about the contemporary world:
"How did we get this way?'' The answer, he believed, had to come from "living
history," that part of the past that continues in the present. The result, in his
textbooks, was history presented on the model of evolution in the biological
sciences, a central narrative that excluded everything defunct, anomalous, and
sensational, that eschewed all of the lost causes and dead ends. Recalled Robinson,
Only gradually did the writer come to conceive of history as something far more vital than
the record of bygone events and the description of extinct institutions. He then saw that if
history was to fulfill its chief function and become an essential explanation of how our
own civilization came to take the form it has, and present the problems that it does, a fresh
selection from the records of the past would have to be made. Much that had been
included in historical manuals would of necessity be left out as irrelevant or unimportant.
Only those considerations would properly find a place which clearly served to forward the
main purpose of seeing more and more distinctly how this, our present Western
civilization, in which we have been born and are now immersed, has come a
For most citizens, Robinson proposed, this was the only history worth knowing.
Actually, the whole project was rather unhistorical, Whiggish, and Eurocentric. In
substance, Robinson's textbooks are basically intellectual history (with an overlay of
economic, social, and cultural developments), the story of what he called "the mind
in the making," the perceived evolution of rationalism, science, and liberal values.
In form, the narrative begins in a tight description of progress from prehistory to
the dose of the Middle Ages, then broadens in the coverage of modern Europe and
its influence on other continents. In effect, the past is subordinated to the present,
recent history becomes "relevant" history, the human past becomes the prologue to
European history, and Europe is interpreted as the seat of modernity, the source of
30 Barnes, "James Harvey Robinson," in Howard W. Odum, ed., AmericanMasters of Social Sciee (New York,
1927), 375.
31 Compare Robinson, An Outline of the History of the Intellectual Class in Western Europe (New York, 1915), and
the Contemporary Civ staff publication, Introduction to Contemporary Civilization: Syllabus, 1920 (New York
1920).
32 "Report on the Conference on Medieval European History," in the Annual Report of the American Historica
Association for 1907, 1 (Washington, 1908): 67; and Robinson, The Ordeal of Civilization (New York, 1926), 4.
706 AHR Forum
"contemporary ways of doing and thinking." Western history in Robinson's texts is,
therefore, "high history," overarching the past of other peoples. Westerners, of
course, had long universalized European history into the general history of
mankind. More effectively than others of his generation, Robinson made this old
general history into a "modern" history of Western civilization.
So, before the First World War, American educators were prepared intellectually
for the coming of the Western Civ course. What prepared them emotionally was
the war itself. During the Great Crusade, historical perceptions of a pioneer
America, formed by the frontier experience, gave way to an alternative vision of the
nation's connection with Europe. The war, in this sense, vitalized an interpretation
of history that gives the United States a common development with England and
Western Europe and identifies this "civilization" with the advance of liberty and
culture. Scholars have described how a sense of patriotic purpose swept campuses,
inspiring academics to bring education to the service of the nation. Many historians
now felt the lure of a "useful" history geared to modern events in Europe.33 And
many in other fields felt a duty to transcend disciplines in order to create a general
education for citizenship. Those at Columbia later remembered the Contemporary
Civilization course of 1919 as a "war baby," born of the struggle to make the
world safe for democracy.34 More precisely, it was the child of a strange marriage
between war propaganda and the liberal arts: the "War Issues Course" of the
Students Army Training Corps (SATC).
The War Issues course was part of an extraordinary episode in American higher
education. In 1918, as military conscription threatened to decimate college
enrollments and budgets, school officials came together with the War Department
to create SATC, units of conscripts to be drilled and quartered on college campuses
as military officers in training. In October, at over five hundred institutions, the
majority of male students, more than one hundred and twenty-five thousand
young men in military uniform and under military discipline, commenced training
programs apart from the regular curriculum. American colleges became military
camps and professors mixed with drill instructors in the education of student
soldiers. Compulsory for all was the War Issues course, a class designed to explain
the origins and meaning of the European conflict. Explained the national course
director from Washington, "This is a war of ideas, and ... the course should . . .
give to the members of the Corps some understanding of the view of life and of
society which they are called upon to defend and of that view against which we are
fighting."35 This required the integration of material from a variety of intellectual
disciplines, and the War Department called upon each college to assign to the
planning and teaching of the course the best men available from the departments
33 On the effect of the war in promoting modern European history, see Samuel B. Harding, "What the War
Should Do for Our History Methods," Histoncal Outlook [hereafter, HO], 10 (1919): 188-90. Also see Carol S.
Gruber, Mars and Minerva: World War I and the Uses of the Higher Learning in America (Baton Rouge, 1975).
34 Harry J. Carman, "An Example of an Integrated Program in the Social Sciences," in B. Lamar Johnson,
ed., What about Survey Courses? (New York, 1937), 249.
35 Frank Aydelotte, Final Report of the WarIssues Course of the StudentsArmy TrainingCorps (Washington, 1919),
42-46. On SATC, see C. R. Dooley, Final Report of the National Army Training Detachments (Washington,
1919).
of history, government, philosophy, economics, and literature. Here, critics

warned, tumult was to be expected. Instead, academic rivalries dissolved in the heat
of patriotism. As a result, therefore, the War Issues course was a successful
experiment in general education by government decree: compulsory, interdisci-
plinary, an exercise in common learning for the duties of citizenship. Many
educators were relieved to see it end in December 1918; other recognized it as an
idea of instruction whose time had come.
From the War Issues course came the various Citizenship classes that appeared at
colleges after the war. When the course ended at Columbia, some of the instructors
involved appealed immediately for a "peace issues" course to take its place. Wrote a
faculty dean,
It is not surprising ... that those who have had to do with this course are beginning to ask
themselves if it does not constitute the elements of a liberal education for the youth of
today. Born of the consciousness that a democracy needs to know what it is fighting for, it
has awakened a consciousness of what we, as a people, need to know if our part in the
world of today is to be intelligent, sympathetic, and liberal. In the past, education was
liberalized by means of the classical tradition.... If education is to be liberalized again, if
our youth are to be freed from a confusion of ideas and standards, no other means looks
so attractive as a common knowledge of what the present world of human affairs really
is.36
James Harvey Robinson, preparing to leave Columbia, was not involved in the
discussions of 1918-19 that led from the War Issues course to the Contemporary
Civ class. But his ideas remained to give depth and substance to a class founded on
the simple world view of Allied war propaganda. Early statements about the course,
which today appear flatfooted in their chauvinist idealism, reveal the political
purpose of Contemporary Civ to promote liberal opinion, acculturate the young,
and create "a citizen who shall be safe for democracy."37 The achievement of those
who planned the syllabus was to subsume these political designs within the
organizing idea of Robinson's history: the view of the past as the progress of reason
and liberty. Without this sustaining historical framework, one may speculate, the
Contemporary Civilization course would likely have faded away with the other
citizenship classes of the postwar years, victims of peacetime moods and the
debunking of the wartime patriotism of the academic community.
Just as important as the power of Robinson's history as an organizing idea,
however, was its power as an integrating discipline. The interdisciplinary sweep of
the New History contributed to Contemporary Civ a mode of incorporating other
fields of knowledge into a panoramic overview of the process of civilization. The
course was designed in committee by representatives from the departments of
history, economics, philosophy, and government, and it was taught from a common
syllabus by a staff drawn from all of the departments involved. Its technique of
instruction was the small discussion class, and a successful class wasjudged to be one
36 Frederick J. E. Woodbridge, "The 'Issues of the War' Course in the SATC Schedule," Columbia Alum
News, 10 (1918): 217. Woodbridge, dean of the graduate faculty, directed the course at Columbia.
37 The phrase is that of Columbia Dean H. E. Hawkes; see his "A College Course on Peace Issues,"
Educational Review, 58 (1919): 150.
708 AHR Forum
in which the students were unable to detect the department of their teacher. In a
word, integration was the Contemporary Civ ideal. This, in part, explains the
appeal of the class to many faculty and administrators as a form of common
learning, a uniform orientation course for the mass of freshmen who entered the
college after the military demobilization of 1918-19. Commented President Butler
to the trustees, "A result of prescribing this course for all freshmen is to make sure
that every student in Columbia College has a common starting point and a single
point of vantage from which to study, to understand and to appreciate the world of
nature and of men."38
Although Contemporary Civ was approved by only a "bare majority" of faculty in
1919, the opponents of the class were soon scattered. Butler in 1922 declared the
course a "pronounced success" and in 1924 polls among graduating seniors began
to identify it as the most valuable class in the college.39 By 1929, when the faculty
voted to extend Contemporary Civ to a two-year course, opposition was nowhere to
be found. Thus, a compulsory two-year requirement in Contemporary Civilization
was established: the freshman year (called CCA) on the historical-cultural back-
ground to the modern world, the sophomore year (called CCB) on the problems-
from a social science perspective-of contemporary American society. Thereafter,
plans were advanced to found other general education classes, to spread the spirit
of the new course through the college, and to adjust advanced offerings to the work
of the freshman year. General education had won a battle at Columbia-and the
war spread elsewhere. With the success of Contemporary Civ, recounted a later
Columbia report, there began "a quiet and gradual revolution in undergraduate
instruction throughout the United States."40
Stated differently, general education began its advance in American colleges on
ground prepared by the New History. The intelligent citizen, many educators had
come to believe, was historically minded. When Arthur M. Schlesinger surveyed the
history programs at various colleges in 1919-20, he found that the European war
had heightened the appeal of history and inspired instructors of introductory
courses, faced with surging enrollments, to become less interested in producing
fledgling historians than in educating freshmen to be "intelligent citizens of the
republic and the world.",41 This was the environment that formed the Western Ci
courses. The progress of the course at this period must be seen in connection with
the general progress of European history in America. Between the world wars, the
modern European history curriculum first took shape in the United States. It was,
as Leonard Krieger has described, European history with American relevance-
liberal, "progressive," concentrated on modern history and based on the premise of
a common history that bound together the North Atlantic nations, connected the
United States to the European past, and established Western preponderance in the
world. Wrote Carleton J. H. Hayes, Robinson's student and successor at Columbia,
38 Columbia University, Annual Report of the President. . ., 1920, 22.

39 On the success of the course, see HarryJ. Carman, "The Columbia Course in Contemporary Civilization,"
ColumbiaAlumni News, 17 (1925): 143-44. Carman, a Robinson student, early staff member in the course, and
later the dean of Columbia College (1943-50), shepherded the course from its first syllabus to its heyday after
World War II
40 A College Program in Action, 22.
41 Schlesinger, "The History Situation in Colleges and Universities," HO, 11 (1920): 103-06.
in his popular Western Civ textbook in 1932, "For two thousand years and more,
Europe has been the seat of that continuous high civilization that we call
'Western'-which has come to be the distinctive civilization of the American
continents as well as of Europe, and which has latterly affected the peculiar
civilizations of the 'east' more than those have affected the 'west.'"42
What started as a new direction in European studies soon became an "establish-
ment." Publications increased and programs prospered. In 1929 the Journal of
Modern History appeared as the periodical of the growing field of European history
since the Middle Ages. In 1934 the report of the Commission on the Social Sciences
of the American Historical Association, written by Robinson's colleague in the New
History Charles A. Beard, recommended more European history in secondary
schools:
In all departments-intellectual, esthetic, and ethical-the civilization of the United States

has always been a part of European, or "Western," civilization.... The program of social
science instruction should provide for a ... more detailed study of the evolution of
Western civilization, emphasis being placed on changing modes of production and
distribution, on the succession of social systems, ways of life and ethical conceptions, on
the development of democratic ideals and practices, on the accumulation and spread of
knowledge and learning, on the advance of science, technology, and invention, on the
abiding traditions of the unity of Western culture and its growing integration in world
culture.43
Thus was established a support system that sustained Western Civ courses for
nearly a half-century and promoted European history as the integrating discipline
of general education programs.
THE CHALLENGE OF OTHER COURSES: CHICAGO, 1929-50. Survey courses,

citizenship courses, great books courses, critical thinking courses-such
were the names given to the experimental classes that proliferated in the 1920s.
Some authorities estimate that the number of these early strivings in general
education increased from two courses in 1911 to eighty-two by 1925.44 An
educational philosophy was in search of proper subject matter. Many educators
believed that Contemporary Civilization at Columbia set the example. When the
American Association of University Professors evaluated new courses across the
country in 1922, however, it recommended instead classes on "critical thinking."
For freshmen, the association report concluded, systems of logic, not the historical
process, was the proper foundation of a general education.45
No major school went further in this direction than the University of Chicago.
42 Krieger, "European History in America," 255-87; and Hayes, A Political and Cultural History of Modern
Europe, 1 (New York, 1932): vii.
43 Report of the Commission on the Social Sciences: Conclusions and Recommendations (New York, 1934
51-52.
44 Charles T. Fitts and Fletcher H. Swift, The Construction of Orientation Coursesfor College Freshmen (Be
1928), 169. Most sources recognize the Amherst College course "Social and Economic Institutions" in 191
the first general education offering; Fitts and Swift have found earlier beginnings in a "College Life" cl
Pomona College in 1911.
45 Ernest H. Wilkins, "Initiatory Courses for Freshmen: Report of Committee G," Bulletin of the
Association of University Professors, 8 (1922): 350-80.
710 AHR Forum
There, in 1931, began a truly radical departure in general education: an under-

graduate college for freshmen and sophomores with an integrated curriculum on
comprehensive areas of knowledge-no disciplines, no departments, and, deep in
its educational philosophy, no assent to the claims of history as the prince of unity.
This rejection of history as an integrating discipline obstructed the coming of the
Western Civ course until after the Second World War. Success came easier
elsewhere, but the eventual triumph of the course at Chicago, where everything
against it, is more revealing of the real force of Western Civ, the influence of its
support system in secondary schools, and the fundamental place of the history
survey in general education.
From the start, Chicago had planned to do something different with freshmen
and sophomores. Fouilding President William Rainey Harper, judging them to be
unready for "strictly university work," wanted to stick them someplace out of the
way. From this first principle of separate status came the Junior College, an "ill-
begotten" institution that, into the early twentieth century, was used by university
departments as a training camp for young faculty and graduate assistants. In 1923,
for instance, about one hundred assistants held menial teaching positions in a
variety of elementary courses, and staff turnover reached an annual rate of 40
percent.'46 With the general education movement rising across the country, early
undergraduate education hit bottom at Chicago. To the rescue came Robert
Maynard Hutchins.
Enemies noted that President Hutchins arrived at Chicago with the Great
Depression of 1929. Supporters recorded that his coming reversed the tide of battle
in a faculty debate on a "College Plan" to convert the Junior College to a
compulsory general education curriculum. Great curricular revolutions, someone
has claimed, require either a commanding personality above or a common faith
below. At Columbia, the coming of general education required a moment of
patriotic unity; at Chicago, it required a philosopher-king. Nowhere was the debate
more divisive-or more "religious." For Hutchins, the university, in its most lofty
sense, ascended out of the common communion of undergraduate learning: "We
can never get a university," he insisted, "without general education."47
Observers recorded that the content of general education at the College of the
University of Chicago was worked out not by Hutchins but by faculty and deans,
sometimes in response to their president, sometimes in opposition to him.48 All
shared, however, what has been called "the Chicago idea." Basic to it was the
conviction that disciplines, divided by convention into independent departments,
fell naturally into larger clusters, groups of subjects connected by similar methods
of inquiry. From this was formed a core curriculum of courses in three comprehen-
sive fields: the social sciences, the humanities, and the natural sciences. Ideally,
instruction in these broad areas was intended not to transmit factual knowledge but
to develop critical understanding of their distinctive organizing ideas and systems
46 Reubin Frodin, "Very Simple, but Thoroughgoing," in The Idea and Practice of General Education, 41.
47 Hutchins, The Higher Learning in America (New Haven, 1936), 59. On the plan, see Chauncey S. Boucher,
The Chicago College Plan (Chicago, 1935).
48 Daniel Bell, The Reforming of General Education (New York, 1966), 26.
of logic. The result in the humanities was the so-called Aristotelian tendency to
classify cultural expression in terms of conceptual categories. Artistic works were
studied not within the flux of historical change, where everything was relative to
time and place, but within genres, forms, or topics that were deemed to be timeless
or recurring in human creative production. Wrote College Dean Clarence H. Faust,
"The history of human culture, that is, the organization of an intelligible,
chronological sequence of man's achievements in philosophy and the arts, has come
to seem much less useful to general education than the careful study and discussion
of excellent examples of these achievements."49 Here, in theories of approach, was
the conflict between history and the Chicago idea. And where the prospects for
Western Civ were concerned, "approach" was everything. Without support for
history as a mode of intellectual synthesis, Chicago was a foreign country. Where
the New History did not go, neither, at this point, did Western Civ.
History department files at Chicago reveal the Hutchins years as a time of
protest, distrust, and fear of subjugation. Resentment lingered, for example, after a
wrangle in 1934 following unofficial circulation of a mimeographed essay by
Professor of English Ronald S. Crane, founder of the Chicago school of literary
criticism and-to historians-embodier of its antihistorical precepts. Crane argued
that the New History, in attempting to annex all disciplines, in fact left historians no
discipline of their own. In presuming to integrate subjects in which they had no
expert competence, he remarked, historians became amateurs in a university of
professionals. All disciplines, he conduded, study the past, and specialists know the
technical history of their trade in a way that historians cannot: "Other things being
equal, the only histories of thought that can be taken seriously will be those written
by philosophers; the only good economic histories will be written by economists; the
only good histories of art are those written by men trained in aesthetic analysis."50
Where every discipline was its own historian, there was no longer a discipline of
history. To Crane, nothing so revealed the poverty of the New History as its claim
to "integration" and "synthesis." Writing sweeping summaries of the past, he
contended, was the work for popularizers and required little more than common
sense and practical experience.
Historians replied with meetings, manifestoes, and much "thrashing over of
matters" among themselves.51 At a time when the New History emboldened
historians elsewhere to expand the daims of their discipline, historians at Chicago
had to defend their very existence in the university. Beginning on high, this debate
soon spilled down into the College course in Humanities, where historian Ferdi-
nand Schevill was working as course director to develop a distinctive Western
Civilization approach. When introduced as a core course in the new general
education curriculum in 1931, the class was based on an earlier offering in
49 Faust, "The Problem of General Education," in The Idea and Practice of General Education, 23.
50 Crane, "The Organization of History in a University" (1934), 8, University of Chicago, Special Colle
Depvartment [hereafter UC, SCD].
William T. Hutchinson, "The Department of History in Retrospect" (1956), 37, UC, SCD, Hutchinson
Papers. For the department's response to Crane, see "The Objectives of a Department of History," UC, SCD,
Louis Gottschalk Papers.
712 AHR Forum
European history, now hollowed out in order to make room for material from
other disciplines. The College catalog announced, "This course uses the materials
of history as a foundation and framework for the presentation of the literature,
philosophy, religion, and art of the civilizations which have contributed most
conspicuously to the shaping of the contemporary outlook on life."
In the years before his retirement in 1935, Schevill, an old-school lecturer of
considerable fascination, made the course into a popular attraction in the Chicago
area; but thereafter staff members from other humanities disciplines began to close
in on his successor. The course, they complained to historian Arthur P. Scott, was
too historical. To them, history as a medium of integration in the humanities was a
form of reductionism that failed to provide independent aesthetic standards by
which students could evaluate cultural works. Everything, instead, was interpreted
as an "expression" of historical time and place. Historians, they objected, were
concerned with factors that conditioned literary and artistic creations; they, in
contrast, were concerned with the value and truth of literature and art. Scott
complained in response that history was being reduced to mere chronology and
that those in humanities already monopolized the substance of the course.52 But, in
fact, the eclipse of history was only beginning. In 1942 the course was converted to
analytical methods more consistent with the Chicago idea, and history virtually
vanished in the new "Four Year College," the radical Hutchins experiment
combining high school juniors and seniors with college freshmen and sophomores
in an integral general education program. In a school founded on faith in the unity
of knowledge, no place remained for instruction in the unifying methods of history.
Instead, the crown course of the new curriculum was "Observation, Interpreta-
tion, and Integration" (011), a class providing a final, philosophical synthesis of the
whole four-year program. Recalled sociologist Daniel Bell, who worked for a time
in the Hutchins College, "The 01 course represented, to the extent that any sing
course can, the specific 'ideological' commitments of the Chicago curriculum."53
Complaints increased, however, that students lacked historical knowledge and the
"time sense." Finally, after much debate over this "history question," the faculty in
1946 authorized an experimental Western Civilization course to be placed opposite
O1I in the final year of instruction; Western Civ was to integrate the curriculum
the historical method, 01 by the analytical principles proper to the Chicago idea.
As a result, Western Civ not only entered by the back door but also stood isolated at
the end of the curriculum, a "conclusion" to a program based on a different
educational philosophy. In the encounter of Western Civ and 011, however, the
New History and the Chicago Idea met head to head.
Decisive to the outcome was a return toward "normalcy" that followed the
departure of Hutchins from Chicago in 1950. As his successors dismantled the
more unconventional philosophical structures of the College, OI went adrift,
foundered, and was eventually abandoned. Conversely, Western Civ, moored in
52 On this quarrel, see UC, SCD, Arthur P. Scott Papers, box 1, folder 3.
53 Bell, The Reforming of General Education, 35. Also see William O'Meara, "Observation, Interpretation, and
Integration," in The Idea and Practice of General Education, 232-45.
secondary school history classes and more familiar general education ideas, became
securely fixed in the curriculum. The ironic conclusion, noted Bell, was that the
course alien to the Chicago program became the most enduring.54
The original Chicago version of Western Civ, however, was very different from
the class at Columbia. Both were the products of committees in which representa-
tives from various disciplines worked to compromise their differences. At Colum-
bia, the members from the start accepted historical chronology as the organizing
structure of the course; at Chicago, on the contrary, this was the most contentious
issue of all. Here the analytical methods of the Chicago idea did battle with the
genetic principles of the New History. Struggling during 1947-48 to form a
majority among themselves, the committee members finally pieced together a
course based on a topical or "problems" approach.55 In form, selected topics ranging
from the Greek polis to Bolshevik Russia were aligned in the syllabus like-in the
phrase of one committee member-"a string of beads," placed in chronological
order but connected only loosely by the line of historical continuity. Exceptional-
but necessary for the support of committee members in the humanities-was the
insertion at various places along the "string" of special topics on cultural themes,
such as the assignments on "The Representation of Space in Art," which followed
the topic on the Renaissance and Reformation. The overall design was to stress
"analysis" over "genesis," concepts over chronology, and the internal world of the
topic over the process of historical change.
Furthering this purpose was the emphasis-traditional at Chicago-on source
readings and discussion methods in the course (one common lecture and three
discussion sections per week), and committee opposition to the primacy of lectures
and textbooks. Once in operation, however, the class appeared fractured by
"discontinuities" and chronological gaps. In remedy, the teaching staff devised
"bridge" lectures to connect topics, and staff chairman William H. McNeill authored
a textbook to supply the historical narrative that was missing from the course. Thus
the "story" of history was placed in the background, with students generally
expected to reconstruct it on their own. In the original form of Contemporary Civ
at Columbia, dominated by the evolutionism so central to the "progressive" outlook
of James Harvey Robinson, textbooks carried the class, providing the central
narrative on the central civilization in world history. At Chicago, however, where
selected topics were the main focus, McNeill's History Handbook of Western Civilization
(1953) was improvised as a kind of manual for historical reference.56
Many of these arrangements derived from the array of forces in the founding
committee and the nature of the teaching staff in the early years of the course,
when about half of the personnel were in fields outside history. Looking back, some
historians remember Western Civ at this time as a course in bondage to other
54 Bell, The Reforming of General Education, 36. Today the class continues as a required course (with options)
for most sophomores.
55 Deliberations can be followed in the records of committee member William T. Hutchinson of the
Department of History; see UC, SCD, Hutchinson Papers, box 19, folder 5.
T McNeill has discussed the early course; see his "Integration: History of Western Civilization," i
and Practice of General Education, 225-32.
714 AHR Forum
disciplines and antihistorical ideas.57 Liberation came in the circumstances after

Hutchins's exit in 1950, when those in other disciplines dropped away from the
staff, the special cultural topics were removed from the syllabus, and the course
moved under the protection of the Department of History. Significantly, however,
the topical approach to subject matter was retained. A method of organization that
historians once accepted as a matter of necessity they came to recognize as an
effective strategy of instruction. The story of the Chicago course, for this reason,
demonstrates an important development in the larger history of Western Civ
classes after 1945: the quest for new principles of order.
James Harvey Robinson developed a general history extending across all human
activity but narrowly limited by a perceived genetic principle of historical develop-
ment. Incorporated into Western Civ Courses, this version of history, designed to
help undergraduates find their bearings, soon lost its own. One reason was an
inherent tendency in the New History to expand and sprawl; another was the
deterioration of Robinson's principles of selection. The politics of the 1930s, for
example, ravaged the assumptions of Robinson and his successors on the progres-
sive course of events. Reviewers of Carleton J. H. Hayes's new textbook in 1936
noted, in this regard, that fascism and dictatorships in Europe had brought a strain
of pessimism to his historical outlook.58 This decline of faith in a central direction in
history opened Western Civ courses to subject matter from all directions, to all of
the "aberrant" events, lost causes, and silent peoples that Robinson had swept away
with the clutter of the old general history. "We have probably put into these
introductory courses by now all that they will hold," explained Smith College
historian Sidney Packard in 1940; "the next step must be selection and omission, a
process which calls both for judgment and courage."59
Textbook writers confronted the same task. From the start, Western Civ traveled
by textbook, and it was the success of particular works that helped standardize the
course across the country. Indeed, the books spawned by Western Civ classes-a
mass market in college textbooks if there ever was one-are a study in themselves.
Condensed, the story is this: larger history begat larger textbooks. Some observers
believed that the ultimate was reached in 1942 with Walter T. Walbank and Ala-
stair M. Taylor's Civilization: Past and Present, two volumes of over one thousand
double-columned pages, surveying the "history of man-his government, econom-
ic, social, religious, intellectual, and esthetic activities-from the earliest times to the
present, in Europe, Asia, and in the Americas." After this, remarked a reviewer, the
mission was to cut and slash.60 Thus, by the start of the Second World War, both
teaching and textbooks in Western Civ were in need of new methods to relieve the
congestion of material caused by a deterioration of the old approach.
57 Interview with former course chairman Karl J. Weintraub, September 26, 1979.
58 See Harry Elmer Barnes, Review of Hayes's A Political and Cultural History of Modern Europe, 2 (New York
1936), in the American Sociological Review, (1936): 514-16.
59 For the results of Packard's survey of sixty college courses, see his "The Introductory College Course in
History," Social Education, 9 (1940): 538-53.
60 Thomas C. Mendenhall, "The Introductory College Course in Civilization," AHR, 49 (1943-44):
681-84.
Rzse and Fall of the Western Civilization Course 715
This process, carried through after the war, was influenced by a profound
change in methods of intellectual inquiry that overspread all areas of knowledge.
Scholars have described it as a "conceptual revolution," a shift from modes of
investigation developed to verify facts and processes fixed in reality to the
construction of conceptual models used to interpret a world in which all knowledge
was relative to the knower. In historical studies, this involved the decline in
evolutionary concepts of development and, as a result, the depreciation of historical
narrative as the primary mode of explanation. Robinson himself once pondered
whether an expanded history, having gained the whole world, would lose its soul.
For him, the calling of the historian was to describe "the process of life and
change."61 Now some of the best historical minds came to see this style of
historiography as an expression of nineteenth-century evolutionism. In process was
a fundamental reorientation in which history opened to the social sciences and
methods of conceptual analysis, and descriptions of genesis and growth made way
for the study of social phenomena, ideological systems, and the "structure" of
historical periods.
Where these ideas trickled down into Western Civ courses, many instructors
moved independently toward the forms of instruction that characterized the
Chicago class. At Columbia, a postwar observer noted a "striking change" in the
Contemporary Civilization course (CCA). No longer was the stress on historical
continuity, but on the social and intellectual configuration of particular epochs, with
little attention to the details of transition from one time period to another.62 In sum,
Robinson's history had been traded for a "string of beads." Standard textbooks
were replaced by a volume of background readings, and, after 1945, all instruction
converted to discussion of source materials.63 Half a century earlier, in "the great
debate over the source method" at the AHA in 1897, historians upheld the
supremacy of textbooks over primary materials and knowledge of the historical
process over the habits of critical analysis engendered by the source method.64 Now,
at some schools, scholars were reversing the order of things.
Western Civ was passing beyond the conventions of a no longer New History.
Being left behind as well, however, was the original organizing idea of the course.
As new documents collections, "problems" pamphlets, and case studies involved
students in "doing" history rather than simply learning it, and as the source method
and topical approach fragmented the sense of historical continuity, the unifying
idea of genetic development was diminished. Wrote Daniel Bell of developments in
Contemporary Civ at Columbia, "What was gained by the addition of original
material was, in part, offset by the lack of a consistent interpretative framework
More importantly, such Western Civ courses, in departing from instruction in a
61 Robinson, The New History (New York, 1912), 65-66.

62 Charles H. Russell, "The Required Programs of General Education in the Social Sciences at Colum
College, the College of the University of Chicago, and Harvard College" (Ph.D. Dissertation, Columbia
University, 1961), 60.
63 On changes in CCA from 1937 to 1946, compare Carman, "An Example of an Integrated Program in
Social Sciences," 250-5 1, and A College Program in Action, 95-103.
64 Robert E. Keohane, "The Great Debate over the Source Method," Social Education, 13 (1949): 212-1
65 Bell, The Reforming of General Education, 212.
716 AHR Forum
common body of knowledge, became at the same time less defensible as general
education.
Events at Chicago reaffirmed the central position of history in general education.
Already, however, Western Civ courses were living on credit. Therefore, when
general education entered a period of crisis in the 1960s, it was inevitable that
Western Civ would follow. Having traced the rise of the course in connection with
this movement for a common learning, it remains now to trace its decline.
THE SECOND WORLD WAR GAVE A SECOND SURGE to the general education move-
66
ment.6 Members of President Truman's prestigious Commission on Higher
Education, confronting a human wave of college-bound war veterans, recommend-
ed in 1947 federal funding for more of everything on campus; but general
education, they concluded, was the really "crucial task" for American colleges. "In
the nation," exclaimed the dean of the College of the University of Chicago in 1950,
"general education is at last in vogue. Its principles bid fair to become the operative
educational theory of the remainder of our century."67
Not so. War veterans brought a new seriousness to college programs. In 1957,
Sputnik revealed the new seriousness of the Soviet challenge in education. In the
name of higher standards, specialization returned in force, departments raised up
honors programs and freshman seminars, and core programs began to break apart.
The Department of History's "take-over" of Western Civ at Chicago was but one
episode in the waning of the general education ideal. Another was the dissolution
of CCB, after thirty years' travail, as a sophomore requirement at Columbia in
1959, when social science departments objected that their vocabulary had become
too technical for general education courses.68 These developments, however, were
only part of much broader changes in general education requirements at both
schools, in which restraints loosened, electives returned, and areas of specialization
were introduced. In brief, the elective system was breaking through the lines of
general education, threatening the dogmas that lay at the center of its educational
philosophy: the unity of knowledge and the ideal of a common learning. This
challenge to general education meant a challenge to Western Civ as well. For
connected to the absolutes of general education were the absolutes of the original
Western Civ idea: the belief in the oneness of history, in the potential of the
historical method to integrate human experience, and in Western history as the
"high history" of mankind.
The coming crisis was forecast in developments at Harvard after 1945. There the
forces of general education, after having conquered the very fortress of the elective
system, were thrown into confusion at the moment of their greatest success. Moved
66 See, for example, Earl J. McGrath, "The General Education Movement," Journal of General Education, 1
(1946): 3.
67 Higher Educationfor Amican Democracy, 49; and F. Champion Ward, Foreword to The Idea and Practice of
Genreral Education, v.
68 "Report of the President's Committee on the Contemporary Civilization Courses in Columbia College"
(October 1960), Columbia University, Columbiana Collection.
by the experience of the Second World War, the Harvard faculty in 1945 approved
in principle a committee report that thereafter became scripture in the general
education movement. General Education in a Free Society (dubbed the Redbook by
virtue of its Harvard crimson cover) anointed general education with the fair name
of Harvard, giving it a legitimacy that convinced college faculties across the country
of the value of a common learning. But the Harvard faculty had second thoughts.
The Redbook plan for compulsory core courses in the social sciences, humanities
and natural sciences gave way in debate to a "temporary" experiment permitting
two to four optional courses in each of these areas. With time, what was temporary
became permanent, and two to four options became more, and more. The elective
system, thrown out the door, came back in through the window. Thus, from the
start, the object of the whole exercise-a common educational experience-was
lost.
Lost as well was a planned Harvard version of the Western Civ class, projected in
the Redbook as the core course in the social sciences.69 In rejecting the course,
Harvard faculty members, in principle, rejected the historical pre-eminence of
Western man. "To center a course exclusively on the Western tradition," objected
one opponent, "would merely help to perpetuate the old myth of civilization as a
monopoly of the regions bordering on the Atlantic."70 Nor, objected others, was th
historical approach sufficient to encompass the social sciences. When, therefore,
two optional courses were approved, Western Civ at Harvard died without seeing
the light of day. The options lived and multiplied. From two freshman-sophomore
general education courses in the social sciences in 1949, the number increased to
four courses by 1950, seven by 1960, and fifteen by 1970. An educational
philosophy of unity and compulsion thus led to a curriculum of diversity and
choice. The general education catalog, cracked a Harvard dean, was beginning to
resemble the Manhattan telephone directory.
This breakup of an educational creed coincided with the breakup of the world
that inspired it. Much of the deep structure of general education lay in a psychology
developed during a half-century of U.S. involvement in the "crusade for democra-
cy" in Europe. In logic that mixed patriotism and pedagogy, educators equated
core courses with common values, the need for unity in the republic with the need
for unity in the curriculum, and the Western military alliance with Western
civilization. With the passing of the Cold War, however, there passed also the
illusions that sustained general education as a civic religion. America's new
hegemony in the West eroded earlier notions of a common partnership with
Europe, and the rise of the Third World confronted the United States with an
international environment of polycentrism and cultural diversity. Europe was no
longer the world. Emerging were other peoples, other histories, a globe of historic
diversity beyond the imagination of earlier Westerners, a cosmos where pluralism
replaced the "oneness" of history and where human experience could not be
69 The course "Western Thought and Institutions" is described in General Education for a Fr
213-17.
70 For a review of debate on the course, see David Owen, "Harvard General Education in Social Science,
Journal of General Education, 5 (1950): 17-20.
718 AHR Forum
ordered into a unilineal pattern of development. As educators came to recognize

the world in this way, they recognized, at the same time, the poverty of the Western
Civ course.
THE DECLINE OF "HIGH HISTORY": AMHERST, 1954-66. As noted earlier, the

Harvard approach to large classes was to station a dominant figure at the center of
things, to identify the course with his personality, and to unite the class from the
lecture platform. In the Western Civ course at Amherst College, that dominant
figure was Laurence Bradford Packard. During his graduate student years at
Harvard from 1909 to 1913, Packard was a teaching assistant to Charles Homer
Haskins in History 1 and thereafter was one of those who spread the influence of
this famous course to other schools. Packard would gladly teach. His reputation as a
dynamic lecturer was already made-to the neglect of research and publication-
when he came to Amherst from the University of Rochester in 1927, and
immediately he established his new European history survey as the most popular
elective course in the college. Within a short time, it was attracting over 80 percent
of all freshmen.71 When the general education wave hit Amherst after World War
II, therefore, Packard's class was converted in 1947 into a compulsory core course
in the social sciences: "The Development of Western Civilization: A Survey of
European History and an Introduction to the Social Sciences."
Packard loved the course, taught it every year, and never wanted to leave it. He
was, in this sense, one of the exceptions to the rule: professors voted to compel
general education courses but declined to teach them. But Packard was little moved
by the spirit of general education. Ideally, all courses in the Amherst program were
to conform to the "big ideas" of the general education curriculum of 1947: (1) the
integration of disciplines, and (2) the introduction of discussion methods in small-
group situations.72 Packard's class, however, true to its roots in the old History 1 at
Harvard, remained largely a history survey, with only a sprinkling of subject matter
from the social sciences.73 Nor was Packard a man given to discussion methods
either in the classroom or at department meetings. Therefore in Western Civ at
Amherst (three lectures and two discussion-section meetings per week), interdisci-
plinary analysis was subordinated to historical narrative, discussion methods to the
lecture system, and the section staff to the lecturer. Packard held the ship on course,
the others worked below deck.
In the manner of the great men at Harvard, Packard gave his class a consistency
and continuity of direction that sustained it through changes in historical thought
and curricular philosophy. Stated differently, the course grew old with him. For
others involved, therefore, Packard's retirement in 1954 was a liberation. The
course changed radically in the following years as a succession of instructors tried
71 For information on Packard, I am indebted to his friend and colleague Professor Alfred F. Havighurst o
Amherst. Also see Havighurst, "Remarks ... on the Occasion of the Announcement of the Laurence B.
Packard Memorial Collection in the Robert Frost Library, April 30, 1977," Amherst College Archives.
72 On the curriculum, see "Report of the Faculty Committee on Long Range Policy," in Education at Amherst:
The New Program (New York, 1955), 3-176.
73 "Report of the Review Committee on the New Program," in Education at Amherst, 218-20.
new approaches. In the end, however, the ship went down with its captain. During
1962-63, an influx of young specialists in non-Western areas of history came to
represent new interests within the Department of History. First, they wanted to
extend coverage in Western Civ to other civilizations; finally, they wanted to scrap
the class altogether. In 1966, as a retreat from general education spread across the
nation, Western Civ at Amherst was replaced by a historiography course designed
by these new men to be "innovative," elective, more practical-and less Eurocentric.
"Traditional courses left us dissatisfied," one of them explained. "There are, of
course, telling arguments for acquaintance with some portion of the sweep of
human development,... but there seem to be no overwhelmingly convincing
reasons for choosing one period or area over others as the introduction to
history."74
Thus lapsed at Amherst the notion of the European past as "high history," a
development central to the human experience. Elsewhere, observers noted similar
developments: the "intellectual capital" of the Western Civ course was being used
up.75 So was the moral capital. The American way of war in Vietnam caused many
students to ponder the pre-eminence of Western history. At the 1976 AHA session
on the Western Civ class, Amherst historian Frederic L. Cheyette bid good riddance
to the grand old course. Despite its claim to be universal, he asserted, Western Civ
in truth was limited and provincial, a history of those who were men, white,
Christian, and European. Others had entered history, not merely the forgotten
people of the Third World, but the newly discovered peoples of Europe as well:
women, children, Jews, and peasants. "There is not a history," Cheyette remarked;
instead, there are "many possible histories."76
Nor, further, is there a Western tradition. Cheyette complained that teachers of
Western Civ had merchandised a fixed and idealized conception of the European
past. Their method was to lift ideas and events out of history, standardize them,
and declare them to be "representative" of trends and values inherent in the
Western experience. Illustrative, perhaps, is an Amherst freshman's description of
proceedings in Laurence Packard's class in 1948:
In our history course we would not be concerned with the fall of the Bastille as a
particular event at one place in time, but as a manifestation of a revolutionary spirit that
later overwhelmed all of France. Monarchist government was on the way out at that time,
and we speak of the Bastille as an event illustrative of a trend of resistance toward the
monarchy. Our method of dealing with historical events is one in which we relate them in
terms of trends of political, social, and economic thought through the ages.77
In any case, the purpose of the technique, according to Cheyette, was to propagate
a perception of European history as the progress of liberty and reason. To his
mind, this revealed the "socializing function" of Western Civ. It explained the place
74John B. Halsted, "Reading History: An Innovative Approach to the Teaching of Introductory History at
Amherst College," AHA Newsletter, 8 (1970): 16.
75 Befl, The Reforming of General Education, 211.
76 McNeilI et al., "Beyond Western Civilization," 536.
77 Danny D. Gustafson, "A Freshman Looks at the New Curriculum," Amherst Graduates Quarterly, 38
(1948): 1.
720 AHR Forum
of the course in the history of education as well as its origins in the sprawling,
immigrant America of the early twentieth century. "Western Civilization," Cheyette
concluded, "like other creations of the General Education movement, had as one of
its many burdens the task of acculturating Jewish kids from the Lower East Side,
the fair-haired children of mid-Western towns, and the heirs and heiresses of Los
Angeles janitors-the new clientele of the expanding university system-into the
world of upper middle class America."78
Certainly the course was a celebration of Western culture. But not everyone will
agree with Cheyette that it was a form of thought control. More serious, however,
because more generally shared, was his premise that history was no longer "one.'>
Here, where Western Civ and general education came together, the consequences
were plain. When there is no longer a history, when history ceases to have a central
narrative, there is no longer a logical necessity for students to know either the same
facts or the same history. The conclusion is this: just as, not long ago, scholars of the
classics could not make a special case for the high culture of Greece and Rome in
the college curriculum, so historians can no longer make a special case for the "high
history" of Western civilization.
THE DISESTABLISHMENT OF GENERAL EDUCATION: STANFORD, 1967-69. In the same

year that Western Civ died at Amherst, Daniel Bell presented to the Columbia
faculty his brilliant report on the need to renovate the general education program.
It succumbed to similar causes. "Through some persuasion of the Zeitgeist,"
commented a Columbia scholar, "the majority of the faculty were no longer
concerned with general education in the large and honorific meaning of the
phrase."79 Across the nation, as students rose against requirements, they enc
tered faculties already prepared to retreat. Spirit had gone out of the general
education ideal, and deans and secretaries were left to enforce the dead letter of
core course requirements. At Stanford University, professors called it "general
education by the registrar's office."
This crisis of general education was particularly devastating at Stanford as a
result of a university self-study carried out at the most extreme stage of campus
unrest during 1967-68. At a time when other schools tried to protect their
programs from the storm, Stanford opened all of the windows. The national press
described the self-study report, The Study of Education at Stanford, as "the most
comprehensive effort to find new answers" to curricular problems. Today, howev-
er, it reads like a historical document, a manifesto of the 1960s, filled with the
rhetoric of "relevance," liberation, and self-expression. "Let the objective of
curricular planning be to encourage the faculty member to teach what he likes to
teach," the report concluded, "and the student to learn what seems vital to him."80
78 McNeil et al., "Beyond Western Civilization," 534.

79 Lionel Trilling, "The Uncertain Future of the Humanistic Educational Ideal," American Scholar, 44 (1975):
57-58. Bell's report, The Reforming of General Education, was not acted on by the Columbia faculty.
80 New York Times, August 10, 1969, p. E-7; and The Study of Education at Stanford [hereafter, SES], 10 vols.
(Stanford, 1968), 1: 14.
Against this return to "curricular do as you please," the Western Civ course could
not stand.
Thus the fall of Western Civ at Stanford was inseparable from the fall of general
education. The course there had been the pride of the general education
curriculum (called the General Studies Program), and, as a requirement for almost
all freshmen, was virtually a-rite of initiation to the university. "Civ is the General
Studies course par excellence," observed a faculty member in 1967. "As we conceive
that course, so we conceive the whole general education of Stanford undergradu-
ates. If Western Civ were radically rethought .. ., the entire structure of General
Studies would have to be rethought with it."81
Historically, the course at Stanford was formed in 1935 to replace a required
freshman course in Citizenship, which, after patriotic beginnings in 1920, had run
out of faculty support and student interest. Rather than building on existing
offerings in European history, a committee of the Department of History designed
Western Civ from models at other schools.82 Influential in these deliberations was a
young department member who, as a graduate student at Columbia, had taught in
the Contemporary Civilization course at Barnard College. Maxwell Hicks Savelle
was the major force in bringing the ideas of the Columbia course to Stanford. In
opposition to support for the lecture method, he won the main battle for the
discussion approach (three discussion sections and one lecture per week). Thereaf-
ter, as director of the dass through the first ten years of its existence, Savelle
worked to promote the Columbia plan for staff power and independence.83 Unlike
the interdisciplinary staff of Contemporary Civilization at Columbia, however, the
Western Civ staff at Stanford remained a satellite of the history department.
Historians appointed the course director, delivered the weekly lectures, recruited
graduate-student instructors-and made the course a smashing success.
In a committee report in 1956 that introduced the General Studies Program at
Stanford, Western Civ was identified as the most popular course among under-
graduates and its instruction methods recommended as a model for the new
curriculum.84 With this recognition came the financial resources to appoint full
time staff members from among some of the best graduate students in history
available at universities across the country. They arrived just in time for the events
of the 1960s. As the retreat from general education commenced, and as the
Department of History relaxed surveillance over Western Civ, a staff of about
twenty new men, holding temporary faculty appointments, came into control, year
by year, of the syllabus, the lectures, and finally the course itself.
What followed is best understood in connection with the labor problem in
general education. In a profession where advancement depended on expertise and
publication in specialized fields, professors often preferred to leave the work of
81 Memorandum, Subcommittee on the History of Western Civilization, April 1967, Stanford University
Archives, History Department Papers [hereafter, SA, HDP], carton 21, folder 361.
82 See the committee report, undated, in SA, HDP, carton 5, folder 126.
83 On Savelle's dedication to the course, see George H. Knoles, "The History of the History of Western
Civilization," Stanford Observer, April 1980, pp. 4-5.
84 Robert Hooper and Hubert Marshall, The Undergraduate in the University: A Report to the Facult by the
Executive Committee of the Stanford Study of Undergraduate Education (Stanford, 1957), 96-97.
722 AHR Forum
general education to an academic proletariat of temporary personnel and graduate

teaching assistants. At many schools, the "TA" became a classic figure of the
Western Civ class, at once sustaining the course and limiting it, bringing the benefit
of cheap labor and the problems of inexperience and staff instability. In part,
methods of instruction at Harvard were developed to give substance and support to
a class maintained by unpracticed assistants. "The section men have little effect on
the enjoyment of the course," a confidential course guide counseled freshmen
concerning History 1 in 1934, and opinion polls generally recorded that students
judged discussion sections to be less important than lectures.85 In styling its Western
Civ course to the Columbia pattern, however, Stanford adopted an ideal of
instruction based not on the charisma of the lecturer but on the chemistry of the
discussion section.
The Columbia system, in fact, was developed in reaction to the "display of
personality" involved in the mass-lecture method and the use of green, ever-
changing graduate assistants hired on the cheap. If, at Harvard, the class
"belonged" to the lecturer, at Columbia it belonged to the staff, a team of regular
faculty members sharing conviction in the discussion approach. Declared Dean
Harry Carman in 1946,
For many years we have given in Columbia College no required courses of the pontifical
type, in part because the students know the defects of the type, but principally because the
man-to-man effectiveness of a proved instructor, young or old, with a small group ... has
had much to do with the active undergraduate interest in the introductory work, and with
the easy and steady improvement of the courses themselves.86
To promote consensus, democratic debate and "workers' control" were made the
mode of staff work at Columbia. The Contemporary Civ class, in consequence, was
a course in motion, geared for change and self-correction, with committees of
students and staff involved in constant review and revision. "Contemporary
Civilization was literally born revising itself," wrote a faculty member in 1959.
"There has always been and there will always be a Contemporary Civilization
Revision Committee."87
But, just as the course was strengthened in the early period by the shared beliefs
of its staff, so in the 1960s was it weakened by the loss of faith in general education
A report of 1960 describes the condition of the staff as "alarming," with morale low,
turnover high, ranking professors few in number, and various junior instructors
merely going through the motions. Various observers have remarked that such
staffing problems were as responsible as intellectual problems for the crisis in
general education courses; and Daniel Bell noted that intellectual problems were
sometimes staffing problems in disguise.88 In retrospect, however, it appears that
85 Harvard Crimson Confidential Guide to Freshman Courses, 1934, p. 22, HUA.

86 A College Program in Action, 23-24. On criticism at Columbia of the "wholly deplorable" results of the strict
lecture method, see Lionel Trilling, "The Van Amringe and Keppel Eras," in Miner, A History of Columbia
University, 40-41.
87 Buchler, "Reconstruction in the Liberal Arts," 57.
88 "Report of the President's Committee on the Contemporary Civilization Courses," 2-3; and Bell, The
Refoming of General Education, 66.
the Contemporary Civ staff at Columbia did not begin to spin apart until after
centrifugal forces built up within the course itself. When textbooks were aban-
doned and new methods of history developed after 1945, source readings
proliferated and the syllabus began to clog. After criticism in 1957 that the
gathering disorder was giving students "misleading conceptions" of scholarship, a
trend developed within the staff toward individual experiment and personal
initiative. Workers' control converted to private enterprise. The ideal of a common
syllabus-honored since 1919-gave way in 1964 to the expedient of individual
selection in reading assignments. In 1968, the famous, common source book
Introduction to Contemporary Civilization in tMe West, used since 1946 and w
adopted at other schools, was replaced by a choice of paperbacks. So, after a half-
century, the commonality of learning that had made the Contemporary Civilization
course at Columbia the inspiration of the general education movement was lost. If
the Harvard system risked limiting the syllabus to the intellectual perspective of one
man, the Columbia system risked making it all things to all staff members. One
system ran the danger of authoritarianism, the other of anarchy.
By 1967, when the self-study of the General Studies Program at Stanford began,
anarchy was already well advanced within the Western Civ staff. As a staff member
during 1963-66, the present writer witnessed the process of disintegration. The
discussion section was the world of the staff, and, left to ourselves, we reconstructed
the course in its terms, disconnecting everything that was not directly involved in
our work there. Textbooks were demoted to reference materials. Lectures, largely
ignored in section discussions (and poorly attended by students as a result), were
reduced in number and finally, when instructors began to stay away as well,
eliminated altogether. Just as, at Amherst, the reign of the lecturer resulted in the
subordination of discussion sections, the reign of the staff at Stanford resulted in
the subjugation of the lectures.
"The instructors sabotaged the lectures," a member of the history department
complained sometime later.89 But no one spoke at the time. In effect, the major
undergraduate course in the university was turned over without challenge to the
most junior faculty members. For us, the road was open; it led to experimentation,
eclecticism, and the same kind of "personal preference" syllabus that ended in
disorder at Columbia. We thought, in teaching from personal perspectives, that we
were deepening the course. Instead, we were digging its grave. Irresistibly, the
impression spread among students that the class was in confusion. Under the cover
of one course, a freshman complained to the campus newspaper, different
instructors taught different things.90
Like the students of these protest years, the members of the self-study comm
had a way of asking hard questions. What goals, they wanted to know, united a c
taught in such separate ways? Why, if Western Civ was no longer a common
educational experience, did it remain a common requirement? And what, precisely,
was that body of historical knowledge that all educated men should know? As
89 Department memorandum, 1968, SA, HDP, carton 21, folder 361.

90 Stanford Daily, May 17, 1966.
724 AHR Forum
individuals, historians replied differently to these terrible questions; as a depart-

ment, they did not even try. Other faculty members watched in puzzlement as,
throughout the proceedings, the Department of History remained silent in the face
of assaults upon the course. "They think it curious," remarked the department
chairman to his colleagues, "that the Department has neglected to take a more
vigorous stand."91 But the compulsory class, it seemed, was no longer worth
fighting for. "First of all," wrote Western Civ course director Paul S. Seaver, "many
freshmen are unhappy with the requirement and, lacking motivation, find the
course a source of frustration.... Secondly, many of us as faculty are no longer
convinced that there is a standard or specifiable body of knowledge or information
necessary for a liberal education."92
A poll in 1968 revealed that 59 percent of the students in Western Civ believed
that the course should be a university requirement.93 Too many historians,
however, had lost faith. Accordingly, the Department of History in the following
year did not oppose a recommendation to discontinue Western Civ as a required
course. Thus ended, after thirty-four years, the privileged place of history in the
education of all undergraduates at Stanford. Further, the disbanding of the course
coincided with the disestablishment of the General Studies Program as a whole.
Faculty opinion had turned against massive courses on massive subjects, courses
that pretended to all-inclusiveness, to interdisciplinarity, that attempted "to squeeze
the universe into a ball and roll it toward some overwhelming question."94 Instead,
small was beautiful. The new ideal of introductory instruction at Stanford was the
freshman seminar, classes that were small, elective, limited in discipline, varied in
subject matter. In a phrase, they were the antithesis of general education. The Study
of Education at Stanford concluded,
General education, as epitomized by the Chicago curriculum of the Hutchins era and the
Columbia two-year sequences in Humanities and Contemporary Civilization, is dead or
dying. The Harvard general education ideal, as defined in the famous Redbook of 1946,
did not ultimately flourish in its own birthplace.... The general education ideal is totally
impracticable as a dominant curricular pattern in the modern university.95
SOMEONE HAS SAID THAT ALL CURRICULA ARE ESSENTIALLY RELIGIOUS. At Stanford-
and many other locations as well-faith in the religion of a common learning broke
in the 1960s. "General education in America is now a disaster area," lamented the
Carnegie Commission on Higher Education in 1977.96 Today, as noted at the
outset, educators are attempting to unify the curriculum again. Educators too,
91 David M. Potter, department memorandum, January 29, 1968, SA, HDP.

92 Seaver, letter of September 10, 1968, reproduced in SES, 2: 75-76.
93 Stanford Daily, January 27, 1969.
94 See the Report of the Committee on the General Studies Program of the Faculty of Humanities an
Sciences, 1967, printed in SES, 2: 85-89.
95SES, 2: 9, 24.
96 Carnegie Commission, Missions of the College Curriculum: A Contemporary Review with Suggestions (San
Francisco, 1977), 11.
however, can return from a revolution having learned nothing and forgotten
nothing. The curriculum cannot be ordered back together in the old way.
Compulsion was inherent in the old idea of a common learning: what all educated
men should know, all students should be required to study. Critics have described this
as a philosophy of "education without students," a utopia of the academic mind in
which the young are molded to a faculty image of "the educated man." When, in
the last century, the elective system first gave students a voice, they swept away the
old classical curriculum; when they spoke again in the 1960s, they nearly demol-
ished the general education curriculum as well. Now, in reaction, wiser faculties are
reviving general education in forms less rigid and doctrinaire. Observers at
Harvard, for example, have noted that the new core curriculum there is neither a
core curriculum nor even very new, but rather a more coherent pattern of
electives.97 Inevitably, this transition to more flexible forms of general edu
involves a transition as well to more varied forms of freshman history.
Thus arises again what Charles Homer Haskins described in 1905 as "the most
difficult question which now confronts the college teacher of history": the nature of
the first-year course. Here all thinking must begin afresh. "There is, as I see it,"
Harvard historian Giles Constable commented wisely at the AHA session on
Western Civ in 1976,
no ideal survey course, of which the model has somehow been lost in the confusion of the
past decade and which is waiting to be resurrected for the next generation. Western
civilization succeeded admirably for the period for which it was designed, but each
generation must construct its own introduction to history in terms both of the scholarly
nature of the subject and the needs and interests of students at that time.98
Nostalgia is likely to remain. The fathers of Western Civ will be venerated for
resisting the fragmentation of knowledge, for calling specialists to the task of
teaching general history, for involving freshmen in discussion of source materials,
and for implanting history in a paramount place in undergraduate education. But
it is easier to bury the course than to praise it. Most historians have long concluded
that the world has outgrown the old Western Civ ideas. Others will be so instructed
by the story told here. Truly those who do not learn from the history of this wilted
course are doomed to repeat it.
97Harold Taylor, Students without Teachers: The Crisis in the University (New York, 1969), 156; and
Simmons, "Harvard Flunks a Test," Harper's Magazine, 258 (March 1979): 20-22.
98 McNeill et al., "Beyond Western Civilization," 532. Historians discussed the introductory course again at
the 1980 annual meeting.

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The Rise and Fall of the Western Civilization Course

Author(s): Gilbert Allardyce

The Rise and Fall of the

"THE MOST DIFFICULT QUESTION WHICH NOW CONFRONTS THE COLLEG

MCNEILL'S STATEMENT IS THE WINGED LANGUAGE of the general education philoso-

ORIGINS OF INTRODUCTORY EUROPEAN HISTORY: HARVARD, 1873-1904. The West-

introductory course. As early as 1873 a course for sophomores, "Outlines of

a means to communicate new knowledge derived from original research. A

15 "Report of the Committee on Improving Instruction," 7-8.

18 Lucy M. Salmon, as quoted in The Study of History in Schools, 194.

efforts of historians to adjust their methods of instruction to the special features of

of history, government, philosophy, economics, and literature. Here, critics

38 Columbia University, Annual Report of the President. . ., 1920, 22.

In all departments-intellectual, esthetic, and ethical-the civilization of the United States

THE CHALLENGE OF OTHER COURSES: CHICAGO, 1929-50. Survey courses,

There, in 1931, began a truly radical departure in general education: an under-

disciplines and antihistorical ideas.57 Liberation came in the circumstances after

61 Robinson, The New History (New York, 1912), 65-66.

ordered into a unilineal pattern of development. As educators came to recognize

THE DECLINE OF "HIGH HISTORY": AMHERST, 1954-66. As noted earlier, the

THE DISESTABLISHMENT OF GENERAL EDUCATION: STANFORD, 1967-69. In the same

78 McNeil et al., "Beyond Western Civilization," 534.

general education to an academic proletariat of temporary personnel and graduate

85 Harvard Crimson Confidential Guide to Freshman Courses, 1934, p. 22, HUA.

89 Department memorandum, 1968, SA, HDP, carton 21, folder 361.

individuals, historians replied differently to these terrible questions; as a depart-

91 David M. Potter, department memorandum, January 29, 1968, SA, HDP.

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