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by Ben Domenech
Let us consider the cases of Professor
Antonio Lasaga and Professor Michael
Bellesiles. Both men are professors of
renown at respected universities — Bellesiles
taught history at Emory, while Lasaga taught
geophysics at Yale. Both men have received
the distinctive praise of their peers —
Bellesiles was awarded the prestigious
Bancroft Prize in 2001, and Lasaga was the
Saybrook College Master. Today, both men
stand guilty of two very public crimes —
Bellesiles’ sins are academic in nature, while
Lasaga’s are something far more vile.
Yet it is not the actions of these two
professors that begs examination, but the
subsequent reaction of the academic
community.
Eighteen months ago, Bellesiles published a
book (Arming America: The Origins of a
National Gun Culture) claiming that,
contrary to earlier research and conventional
wisdom, very few early Americans actually
owned firearms. He based his findings on an
examination of over 11,000 probate records,
listing the contents of estates. The book was a
political bombshell, as anti-gun groups used
Bellesiles’ claims to assault the National Rifle
Association’s constitutional views and legal
scholars were forced to reexamine their
interpretations of the founders’ meaning in the
Second Amendment. Praise was heaped on
Bellesiles from both historians and book
reviewers. Bellesiles was awarded prizes for
his work, and invited to speak at several
universities on “The Myth of Gun Rights” and
other such topics. Historian Michael
Zuckerman of the University of Pennsylvania
described Bellesiles’ impact thus: “The way
we think about guns in America will never be
the same.”
After further investigation, however, Bellesiles’
research has proven to be nothing more than
a pack of fabrications and lies. When
Northwestern Professor James Lindgren
requested access to the book’s probate
information for his own research, Bellesiles
claimed that his notes on legal pads had
been destroyed during a flood in his office.
When a Boston Globe reporter
confirmed that serious errors existed in
Arming America’s figures, Bellesiles
claimed a hacker had tampered with his data.
When other professors pointed out that many
of the records Bellesiles claimed as sources
were either unavailable or never existed, the
whole house of cards came crashing down.
In the wake of published reports by
National Review’s Melissa Seckora
and The Chronicle of Higher
Education’s Danny Postel detailing the
vindication of the book’s critics and Bellesiles’
insufficient explanations, the academic
community has shown little toleration for
Bellesiles’ sweeping fraud. In the latest issue
of the William & Mary Quarterly, four
historians from different universities condemn
Bellesiles citations as “misleading or wrong,”
and conclude that his efforts indicate “a
consistently biased reading of sources and on
careless uses of evidence and context.” Faced
with the kind of outrage only professors can
muster, Emory University has ordered an
enormous investigation into Bellesiles’
research methods.
Yet even as the academy has vilified
Bellesiles en masse for his falsehoods, it has
risen in defense of another colleague,
Professor Antonio Lasaga.
Unlike Bellesiles, Lasaga does not dispute
his crimes. He has admitted to sexually
abusing and molesting a young boy from the
age of 7 to 13. He has admitted to videotaping
the abuse, and amassing an immense
collection of child pornography. He has
admitted to meeting his victim through a New
Haven school-mentoring program.
Instead of condemnation and rebuke, Lasaga
has received enormous amounts of sympathy
from the academic community. Indeed, even
after Lasaga pled guilty in a federal court to
the crimes of which he was accused, more
than nine months passed before Yale decided
to revoke his tenure. During his sentencing
hearing, colleague after colleague argued for
leniency.
“[Lasaga] is in his most productive years,”
argued Pennsylvania State University
Professor Hubert Barnes, former head of the
prestigious Geochemistry Society. “When you
penalize Tony for his indiscretions, you also
penalize society.”
“I don’t believe Tony had any sexual interest in
boys,” said Princeton Professor Hiroshi
Ohmoto, suggesting that the abuse was
merely a misunderstanding.
“All of us in science are expendable, but the
loss of the most capable are felt the most
strongly,” said Prof. Heinrich Holland, who has
taught at Harvard and Princeton. Holland
suggested that Lasaga be punished with no
more than a six-year sentence, or some form
of counseling. His suggestion was not
accepted, and Judge Roland Fasano
sentenced the professor to 20 years in prison.
Lasaga’s defenders have pointed out that no
one has impeached Lasaga’s academic
work, either in his role an associate editor of
the American Journal of Science and
editor in chief of Chemical Geology, or
as the author of several important books on
geophysics and kinetic theory. Frank Podosek,
the editor of the academic journal of the
Geochemical Society, has tried to prevent
Lasaga from publishing more work, but has
been overruled by his board. From the
perspective of the academy, Lasaga’s
personal failings are apparently a matter for
the man to deal with in his own private way,
and in no way prevent him from living as a
respected member of the scientific
community. Moral outrage does not outweigh
professional respect, and thus Lasaga’s sins
are washed away by his enlightened reason.
The fact that the denizens of the academy
condemn Michael Bellesiles and defend
Antonio Lasaga should surprise no one. The
comparison merely serves as an apt
illustration of the forgotten goals of
scholarship. For today’s community of
professors, Bellesiles’ sins — serious as they
are — are a far more egregious offense than
Lasaga’s, which have shamed and damaged
the lives of his victim, his wife, and his two
sons.
Today, the members of modern academia
have lost sight of truth and beauty. They build
ivory towers without foundations. They map
the world, yet supply no compass. They have
become nothing more than a fraternity of
hollow men, a brotherhood whose knowledge
exists without purpose or end.
John Milton wrote that the ultimate end of
education is “to know God aright, and out of
that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to
be like him.” It is an impossible goal for any
human to attain, but it is our goal,
nonetheless. The goals of men like Michael
Bellesiles and Antonio Lasaga can be
achieved in this life, and their choice is the
choice of every man, weighing the possible
goals against the impossible. But do not
forget that their path ends far from God.
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