A house divided
At a recent meeting, a long and emphatic lament decried the treatment of the Columbia campus of the University of Missouri. Local sophisticates, Democratic minority leaders and select business types have dug in on the hill of academic freedom and university autonomy. Appearances indicate that though their position may be correct, the appropriation of vast sums of tax dollars in local investment is, for the time being, lost.
Certainly, the Board of Curators is the only body in the Show-Me State with the legal authority to govern the activities at each campus of the University of Missouri. Tuition caps are not the purview of the legislature. In a similar vein, limiting the activities of research in particular buildings is also suspect.
Lost amidst the din of acrimony, though, are the basics. The Board of Curators relies on the good will of the legislature for funds to spend on higher education. The curators have no taxing authority. As such, the old and familiar maxim “he who has the dollars writes the rules” is the one and only issue.
Locally we have forgotten this. We have been allowed for many years to embarrass ourselves. Recently we have openly added to this embarrassment arrogance, indifference and, in the eyes of some legislators, outright lunacy. We ask for Missourians to send their precious sons and daughters to our vaunted institution of higher learning. Yet we pull stunts that are not readily forgotten. The “flag flap” at KOMU-TV after 9/11, the Ricky Clemons saga, the buyout of Quinn Snyder’s contract and the marijuana ordinance all serve to reinforce the notion that we are out of touch. Humility and appreciation most times smooth over such antics by college towns.
In our case, though, Chuck Graham and the Mizzou Flagship Council simply do not understand their roles. Advocacy is not about which hill to die on. Advocacy is the action of making the best of a tough situation. Life generally places us between a rock and a hard place.
From Rockport to Caruthersville and St. Louis to Kansas City, ordinary citizens daily make choices that do not include options they prefer. They can, however, when given the seat of power, exercise influence in areas that they are generally powerless.
This is the case in the MOHELA debate and the Lewis and Clark Life Sciences initiative. Bitter feelings remain from the aforementioned episodes, along with the stem cell debate of last fall. Our resistance to work with a majority that is philosophically opposite of most university types has cost us what we need most—the good will and good wishes of the rest of the state, which translate into more money pouring into local coffers. The university system belongs to all Missourians.
Jefferson City is about politics. The eloquent debates may contain tinges of reason twisted to fit the situation, but it comes down to, in the simplest of terms, who has the most votes.
Forget the basics, and the high ground will be surrendered—not by force but by the stupor of self righteousness. We are not making the best of the situation at hand. The University of Missouri is a special place, and so too is Columbia. We cannot, however, forget that we rely on the good will of our fellow Missourians.
Today we stand as a house divided. In the past, local Democrats and Republicans alike stood together for the Flagship Campus. For Democrats it was easy; they were the majority. The Republicans swallowed many a bitter pill waiting for their turn. They now have their turn, and it is the Democrats who must make lemonade.
The travesty of this legislative session is not the loss of life science research dollars but the reinforcement we have lent to the opinions others hold about us. Perhaps lean times will aid in the reevaluation of our positions and the restoration of confidence in the University of Missouri.