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October 14, 1998


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New Senate chair retains touch of youthful rebellion

BY JAMES ROBINSON

Poised to assume the chairmanship of the Faculty Senate on Thursday, Professor Brad Efron knows all about dealing with Stanford's administration: After all, he's been chairman of the influential Advisory Board of the Academic Council, associate dean of the School of Humanities and Sciences, chairman of the Statistics Department ­ and, somewhat earlier in his Stanford career, editor of the Chaparral satire magazine, a position that got him kicked off campus.

Efron was suspended in a headline-grabbing 1961 controversy that instilled in him a strong belief in free speech, which, he says, he'll carry with him as he presides over a sometimes fractious faculty in his new leadership position.

He succeeds Fran Conley, professor of neurosurgery and chief of staff at the Palo Alto Veterans Affairs Health Care System, whose term expired at the end of the last academic year. Among the items on the agenda of the first meeting of the 31st Senate are discussions on honors programs (see story, page 6) and Latin American studies.

Efron brings to his new role experience both as a professor and a graduate student. On his way to receiving a PhD in statistics, Efron was editor of the Chaparral when it published "Layboy," a parody of Playboy magazine. According to a 1961 story in the Palo Alto Times, among the articles the administration found offensive was one titled "The Ass and the Cuckold," which university officials labeled "a burlesque of the Incarnation or Virgin Birth." A representative of the San Francisco Roman Catholic Archdiocese was not amused either, and complained to the university. The administration banned the magazine and suspended Efron for four months. Efron was not contrite, chiding student government leaders who, he told the Stanford Daily, were "falling all over each other to fall in line with the administration's position." But even students who were offended by the parody thought Efron's punishment was too harsh according to newspaper reports.

The San Jose Mercury wrote: "Does [Efron] regret the publication? 'Yeah, I regret that I was kicked out,' he said with a smile. But then he sobered up and said seriously: 'My only regret is that it was misinterpreted.'. . . [Efron] indicated he hopes to return to Stanford in the fall."

Return he did, earning a Ph.D. in 1964 and becoming assistant professor of statistics in 1966. Efron was elevated to full professor in 1974; his academic career at Stanford has seen a raft of achievements and distinctions, including a 1983 MacArthur Prize.

In his office in the Statistics Department's spanking-new Sequoia Hall, the reading on "Professor Efron's Emotional Barometer" was stuck in the "neutral" position last week. The handmade device on the wall by his desk theoretically ranges in readings from "death" to "orgasm" but, Efron explained, the needle kept falling off ­ so he nailed it to "neutral." Whatever the climate, Efron, wiry and lean, exudes intense, perhaps even nervous, energy. But, he is quick to say, "I don't feel tense."

Recalling the Chaparral incident, Efron said his biggest concern following his suspension was that he would be drafted into the military as a result of briefly losing his automatic deferment.

The controversy, he said, "did give me a feeling, since then, that I've never wanted to shut people up." He said it also made him more sympathetic than he perhaps would have been otherwise to his faculty colleagues "who got knocked around in the late 1960s over free speech, drugs and politics. . . . I've had residual sympathy for the contrarian point of view."

Efron, now 60, was elected chairman of the Senate by a vote of his fellow senators, a demonstration of his popularity with faculty. He said assuming the new post was "a mild honor," adding he had "already done most other things," such as chairing the Advisory Board. That position put him in the delicate role of hearing the faculty disciplinary case against Dr. Adolf Pfefferbaum, a tenured professor of psychiatry charged with neglecting his academic duties. The board earlier this year recommended suspending Pfefferbaum for three years and fining him $20,000 ­ a recommendation President Gerhard Casper agreed to although he initially called for Pfefferbaum's dismissal.

The Advisory Council deliberated the Pfefferbaum case in private, as it does most cases. "You can really say what you mean" in the council, Efron said, while in the Faculty Senate ­ which includes 55 members, additional ex officio members and the presence of the news media ­ "it's hard to be perfectly frank."

Nonetheless, Efron is looking forward to leading a senate that will not shy away from hot topics, even if they don't require senate action. And he is introducing a new agenda item tentatively dubbed "Personal Opinion" that will allow one senator at each meeting to read a prepared statement on an issue of his or her choosing.

Efron seems divided between a desire for more controlled meetings ­ he'd like senators to, in a general way, prepare more of their remarks ahead of time ­ and an affection for the unpredictable. "It's sort of fun to see the emotionalism" that senators sometimes bare during passionate discussions, he said.

This year is likely to produce intense discussions on the issue of faculty housing, he predicted, even though the Senate has no formal role in the matter. The high cost and shortage of area housing "has made it hard to recruit new faculty," he said. "The university has a lot of programs that help, but the question is, should there be more housing on campus and should more areas be opened up? To make a difference, we need a couple of hundred new lots."

Like last year, the heated issue of the number of women faculty members at Stanford is likely to surface.

"I hope we have a more reasoned debate" on the topic, Efron said, adding he believed the faculty was less polarized on the matter than last year's debate indicated. "I hope people bring their written ideas before meetings and don't just respond on the spur of the moment. I'll give them first shot" at speaking, he added.

In general, however, Efron does not expect many sparks to fly during this year's senate meetings. "It doesn't look very exciting, but you never know."

There may be more discussion on Stanford's continuing emphasis on undergraduate studies. Efron praised Casper's commitment to revamping the undergraduate curriculum. "It was a brave and difficult thing to do and it has worked very well. You have to pay for it somehow, and this administration knows how to pay," he said, adding that faculty members don't feel threatened by the creation of new teaching billets for undergraduate studies. He also welcomed Casper's expansion of the President's Scholars program, which guarantees research funding to promising freshmen. "There should be more of that."

Reflecting on Stanford in 1998 compared to the university's position in the '60s and '70s, Efron said he has been "a great admirer of how [this administration] has the university really moving a lot closer than I thought it would be to the top of the academic heap." Of Stanford's peers, he said: "They're sweating us now. We're serious competition in lots of areas."

But while he applauds many of Casper's initiatives, Efron clearly will maintain an independant voice in the Senate. In 1992, he and Casper engaged in a sharp exchange at a senate meeting on the issue of indirect costs. In that same year he also disagreed with his faculty colleagues by opposing the senate's endorsement of a plan to extend health coverage to domestic partners of faculty and staff.

"I'm against taking an advocate's role in defense of a proposal which is so far removed from our expertise in academic and scholarly policy," Efron was quoted as saying during the debate.

A few months later, the Board of Trustees and Casper agreed to extend health insurance and other benefits to same-sex domestic partners.

It's clear the university community should not expect a shy senate president in Efron. But neither does he expect to create the kind of furor he and the Chaparral spawned on campus in 1961. "It's the most famous I've ever been," he said, perhaps a hint of nostalgia in his voice. SR