Sen. Susan M. Collins '75
Remarks at Inauguration of President William L. Fox
October 24, 2009

Thank you, Chairman Rose.  Trustees, faculty, students, and alumni, it is a great pleasure to join you on this joyous occasion, the inauguration of William L. Fox as the 18th President of our beloved St. Lawrence University.  Bill Fox is an outstanding scholar, a visionary leader, and a cherished friend from the Class of 1975.

Let me begin by taking you back some three and a half decades to the undergraduate experiences Bill and I shared as Laurentians.

Bill was president of the Beta House, a fraternity then known more for its enthusiasm than its scholarship.  The Betas had a long tradition, observed every Monday evening after their chapter meeting, of adjourning to the porch for “The Call.”  This alleged song begins with a low growl, ends with a high-pitched yelp, and in between is filled with sounds that have less in common with music than with animals in distress.

My residence hall was just downhill from the Beta House, and yes, I was genuinely annoyed by this weekly serenade, and, yes, I believe that my annoyance only fueled Bill’s desire to lead this caterwaul with increased vigor and volume.  The decision by my younger brother, Sam, to matriculate at St. Lawrence and to pledge Beta meant that forever more, someone close to me would know this bizarre ritual.

I could tell you more about The Call, but that would only encourage Bill to perform it.  Believe me, you don’t want that.

Bill and I worked together in student government.  I could observe that this marked the beginning of my political career and the end of Bill’s, but such an observation would suggest that I imagine the world of higher education to be a politics-free zone.  Such an admission of naiveté by a liberal arts graduate would hardly be appropriate at an event that underscores the value of a liberal arts education.

Instead, let me just say how delighted I am to be part of this celebration, to share in the joy of my dear friends, Bill and Lynn Fox.  Bill and I have many wonderful memories from our college years together.  One in particular is the inspiration provided by the President of our era, the remarkable Dr. Frank Piskor.  Dr. Piskor personified the ideal that academic administration combines management challenge, inspiring leadership, and personal involvement in the lives of all who make small universities such wonderful places for intellectual and spiritual growth. 

Bill’s dual career in academics and in the ministry embraces that ideal.  He has not merely climbed the ladder of success; his success is built upon an enduring foundation of character, scholarship and accomplishment.

There are many ways to describe Bill Fox.  One way is to do so is in his own words.  He can elegantly define the president’s task of always knowing where the buck stops as locating the “terminus informed by the rub of ideas, pressured by inherent limits of choice, and punctuated by the complex effort to get it right.”

His intellect is inspired by the brilliance of Shakespeare, de Tocqueville, John Hope Franklin, and William James.  At the same time, he gets a kick out of Casablanca, John Coltrane, and Stephen Colbert.  If he couldn’t be a university president and a minister, he says he’d like to be either a writer for The New Yorker or the centerfielder for the Boston Red Sox.  Talk about ecumenical!

It is customary at any event celebrating liberal arts education to invoke the name of Plato.  Certainly, the great educator of Athens deserves credit for founding an academy based upon the idea that civil society requires leaders with values.  Those values can only be instilled through an education Plato described as balancing the exact sciences – mathematics, geometry, astronomy and harmonics -- with the inexact subjects of philosophy, dialectics, art, music, poetry and drama.   Bill Fox distills this vast concept into one cogent phrase: “The beginning of wisdom is the desire of discipline.”

One of the most effective ways to describe the value of a liberal arts education is to look at what happens when its value is diminished.  For some two centuries now, mankind has lived in what it likes to call The Age of Technology.  Technology, from the steam engine to the microchip, is a wonderful thing.  It can create wealth, improve lives, and toast bread to infinite shades of individualized perfection.  With technology, my late Senate colleague Daniel Patrick Moynihan once observed, the Minute Waltz can be played in 50 seconds.

But, he wondered, would it sound as good?  Technology for technology’s sake can be just plain silly.  Technology without a soul, without an understanding and an appreciation of the human spirit, can be degrading, even devastating.

It is fascinating that one of the most cogent descriptions of the importance of a liberal arts education came from someone as strongly associated with technology as Albert Einstein.  He said, “The value of an education in a liberal arts college is not the learning of many facts but the training of the mind to think something that cannot be learned from textbooks.”

That “something” comes from the ability to engage in critical thinking.  It is the recognition, as Einstein demonstrated throughout his life, that specific information may become out-of-date, but the capacity to analyze, to ask questions, and to discover new information lasts a lifetime.  The liberal arts education cherishes textbooks and the vast store of knowledge and insights gathered throughout human history not as the final word, but rather as a great foundation for new knowledge and new insights.

And a liberal arts education teaches us tolerance and respect for those with whom we disagree.

If I were to pick one culprit for the coarsened culture, the divisiveness, and the lack of civility that have infected our nation and our politics today, it would be the lack of community, a diminished and even deprecated recognition that we are all in this together.  Conversely, if I were to name the single greatest strength of St. Lawrence University, it would be the powerful sense of community here.

Regardless of their specific field of study, Laurentians learn a common language of conduct and character.  They develop the common skills of respect for other points of view and appreciation of different perspectives.  It is one reason that I always encourage students to explore fields outside their comfort zone as I finally did at St. Lawrence, taking courses as diverse as environmental studies and comparative religions.  That is the beauty of a liberal arts education.

The liberal arts education is about the acquisition of habits of mind, capacities of thought and expression, and dispositions for engagement, leadership and caring.  In Bill’s words, it is an education that opens doors and options; never one that seals a fate. 
Few schools open doors as wide.  Wisdom built on a foundation of discipline results in what Bill wonderfully calls the “St. Lawrence effect” – a candle in the heart that is never extinguished.

Those, like Bill Fox, who have accepted the challenge of providing this balanced and rigorous education, have a difficult task before them.  The victories, the triumphs of the human spirit, will be small, often barely noticed at the time.  It’s a job, as Lynn tells me, that requires an incredible range of expertise, an abiding concern for and understanding of other people, the ability to fight for the big agenda against the rush of daily business, and the stamina of a professional athlete.  And, when that still isn’t enough, a great sense of humor.

Bill Fox has all those qualities, and more. I am extremely proud to have him as a friend.  St. Lawrence University was fortunate to have him as a student and truly blessed to have him back as President.   Congratulations, Bill, and thank you all.