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The Least of It

About 30 years ago, the dean of a newly forming scholarly enterprise sought to recruit me to his faculty. I was pleasantly flattered and not a little intrigued. I was, however, not dissatisfied with the post I then filled, and to which I had come only a few years before. I was optimistic, I was young, and the future, right where I sat, held a promise that made me feel somewhat resentful that I was, through no exertion of my own, forced to weigh and ponder and consider a move not of my own doing. Now, many deans, if not most of them, have a wily nature, and cunning comes naturally to them. This feature of deaning used to appall me, but it does no longer. In the unnatural selection processes which ensure an unending supply of deans, it is probably true that the relevant characteristics remain hidden and cryptic. Further, this topic is not my concern here. What is to the point is that the dean I have mentioned moved next to an interesting ploy. He urged me to counsel with an elder statesman of science and be helped thereby in the wisdom of my decision. Should I stay where I was, or should I move? The statesman of science I was recommended to was indeed just that. He was the late Alan Gregg, for many years the head of the Division of Natural Sciences of the Rockefeller Foundation and the