The Raging Bull of Berkeley

Anthropologist Vince Sarich thinks genes explain a lot about some very complex humanbehavior-and that makes some people so mad they think he shouldn't be teaching

"IF YOU CAN BELIEVE THAT INDIVIDUALS OFrecent African ancestry are not geneticallyadvantaged over those of European andAsian ancestry in certain athletic endeavors,then you probably could be led to believejust about anything."So begins a provocative lecture on race by

the outspoken anthropologist VincentSarich. His audience consists of about 400freshmen and sophomores, students in hisintroductory course on physical anthropol-ogy at the University of California at Berke-ley. For many ofthem, the course is far morethan an intellectual luxury: They take it tofulfill the university's science requirement."The distributions with respect to

klutziness and jumping ability differ amonggroups," Sarich continues. "There is nowhite Michael Jordan, one of the best bas-ketball players ever to play the game, nor hasthere ever been one."

Race, sex, and science-or is it pseudo-science?-have been the subject of intensecontroversy on the Berkeley campus since lastNovember, when more than fifty studentsdisrupted Sarich's course, accusing him ofteaching homophobic, sexist, and racist ma-terial. After that, some students demandedthat Sarich-a tenured professor-be fired.In the aftermath of the disruption, the an-thropology de-partment con-vened two com-mittees, one toreview Sarich'scourse material,the other to dealwith student com-plaints. Even theuniversity's chan-cellor, while con-

"One gets tired ofar

clock" that measured evolutionary changeson a firm foundation. Sarich then used thatwork to postulate that human beings, chimps,and gorillas diverged much more recently inevolutionary terms than most researchers hadbelieved-enraging many paleoanthropol-ogists. Most of the recent evidence indicateshe was right-chimps and human beings aremuch more closely related in evolutionaryterms than the old model held. But thosedisputes were on Sarich's own scientific turf.The recent controversy touches on areas suchas race, sex, intelligence, and the genetic basisof contemporary human behavior, whereSarich is hardly an expert. Indeed, except fora few papers on schizophrenia, he has neverpublished in this field.

That's part of the problem say the critics.They argue that Sarich is teaching an out-and-out advocacy course in areas he doesn'tknow much about. As a result, he's notpreparing students for advanced anthropol-ogy courses-only subjecting them to hisown controversial opinions. Furthermore,some say that Sarich is brutalizing the black,gay, and even female students in his courses,and that other teachers must help undo thetrauma he causes. Percy Hintzen, professorof Afro-American studies, says his owncourse on race and ideology "acted as a

release mechanism for theIguing with emotional and psychologi-

one 's closed-minded col-leagues.... Itmight be betterto inject these types ofthoughtsand questions into young andimpressionable minds... "

-VINCENT SARICH

demning the disruption, stated that a "carefulinvestigation" would follow if allegations ofdiscriminatory remarks in the course werebrought forth.

Just who is Vincent Sarich, and why are somany people mad at him? First of all, Sarichis an eminent physical anthropologist whosework-done with his colleague Allan WilsonofBerkeley's biochemistry department-hasled to fundamental changes in our under-standing of human evolution. Sarich, Wil-son, and others put the idea of a "molecular

cal devastation ofhaving to listen to Sarich."Sarich and those who defend him ac-

knowledge that he teaches an advocacycourse. Indeed, he says in his lecture that "atsome point one gets tired of arguing withone's closed-minded colleagues. Instead itmight be better to inject these types ofthoughts into young and impressionableminds so they can turn around and askvarious other people (professors, for ex-ample) what they think." But Sarichclaims-with some justification-that hedoes cover opposing points ofview. What ismore, he and his defenders claim, othersteach advocacy courses too. Yet becausethose courses fit better with the prevailing-largely liberal-political orthodoxy on theBerkeley campus, they don't come underattack. Sarich is being attacked, they say,simply because he is willing to discuss sub-jects-such as race, gender difference, andintelligence-that have been rendered ta-boo by a conformist mentality at Berkeley.The current uproar didn't actually start in

Sarich's class. It started in the pages of theSeptember issue of the Berkeley alumnimagazine, in which Sarich published an ar-ticle with the guaranteed-to-offend title"Making Racism Official at Cal." In thearticle Sarich argued that whites were beingdiscriminated against in admission and thatefforts to culturally diversify the studentbody were creating "tribalization" on cam-pus. A two-tier system was forming, he said,with whites and Asians in the first tier andblacks and Hispanics in the bottom. Thecosts of such a policy, he said "are obviousand large; the benefits, if any, difficult toperceive, and certainly undocumented."The article provoked an intense and acri-

monious debate at Berkeley and in the SanFrancisco newspapers. In California, whichwill soon have a nonwhite majority, affirma-tive action is a touchy subject. Competitionto get into Berkeley, the premier state uni-versity, is fierce: Last year, 2,300 high schoolstudents with 4.0 grade point averages wereturned away, and until recently minoritieshaven't had much access (90% of the fac-ulty-the slowest segment to change oncampus-is white). In addition, minoritiesfelt singled out by Sarich's article, becausealthough the affirmative action program in-

SCIENCE, VOL. 251368

Is Vincent Sarich Part of a National Trend?Berkeley sociologist Troy Duster thinks Vincent Sarich'scontroversial Antropology 1 course is part of a national trendtoward explanation of complex human behaviors in geneticterms that began in the 1960s and is now reaching fever pitch.And Duster isn't alone in that view.

Duster, who specializes in studying shifts in the nature/nurture controversy over time, thinks those shifts are oftencorrelated with societalchanges. After World War II_and the Holocaust-Dustersays, there was a rapid moveaway from the "nature" side ofthe ledger. But social develop-ments and technical advances-in particular, the advent ofmolecular biology-sent thependulum swinging back theother way by the '60s.But it isn't geneticists who

are leading the latest trend,Duster argues, it's psychologistsand other social scientists. Edu- Youcational psychologist Arthur emernJensen of Berkeley has become Aneiwell known for his claims about the genetics ofintelligence and race; psychologist Richard Herrnstein maybeof Harvard is noted for arguing the genetic basis of llgencintelligence, crime, even unemployment.The trend acquired its current impetus, Duster

claims, from the remarkable success of molecular genetics inidentifying the basis of single gene diseases. "Once you foundTay-Sachs in the Jews, sickle cell anemia in blacks, beta-thalassemia in Mediterraneans, cystic fibrosis in north Europe-ans, you suddenly had a folk logic emerging in both the scientificcommunity and those who knew about these developments. Ifsickle cell anemia is race-specific, then maybe criminality orintelligence is."These ideas have gained considerable credence on the border-

line between science and popular opinion, says Duster. "Therehas been an explosion of articles in both the popular literatureand also some scientific journals which explain behavior in terms

of genetics and biology or biochemistry.""We're almost back to the idea of preformation," adds

Berkeley biochemist Richard Strohman, referring to the 18th-century notion that a little person was tucked inside each sperm."The lay public is under the impression that DNA controlseverything."The debate over genetics and intelligence, along with other

complex human traits, isn't limited to the lay press. It's alsopenetrating academic campuses, where it gets caught up in debatesover academic freedom and responsibility.At the City College of New York, in March 1990, students

disrupted the introductory philosophy class of Michael Levin.The reason? Levin's views on race and genetics. "It has beenamply confirmed over the last several decades," he wrote in aletter to The American Philosophical Association Proceedings,"that, on average, blacks are significantly less intelligent thanwhites." Ironically, at City College Levin has an opposite number:Leonard Jefflies, Jr., chairman of the African-American studiesdepartment, who thinks the additional melanin blacks have givesthem both physical and neurological advantages over whites.

And last year, at the annual meet-suddenly had a folk logic ing of the American Psychological7ing.. [thati if sickle-cell Association, J. Philippe Rushton ofia is race-specii then the University of Westem Ontariopeg c ~~said blacks have smaller brains thane criminality or Intel- whites,"which mayunderlie someofse is. the differences among the races in

-TRoy DUSTER educational performance." As hu-man beings entered the colder cli-

mates of Europe from Africa, says Rushton, "they encounteredenvironments that selected for increased social organizational skills andsexual and personal restraint, with a trade-offloccurring between brainsize and reproductive potency."

In spite of the exaggerated claims, Duster says, it would bewrong to reject all claims of genetic influence on behavior. Hecites, for instance, autism, where twin studies provide overpow-ering evidence that the condition is genetically based. Yet hewarns against sliding down what he calls "a slippery slope oflogic" [that] could quickly conflate the molecular genetics ofsickle cell anemia with an extraordinarily complex issue calledcrime." a P.S.

cludes many, nonracial categories (rural ver-sus urban, for example), Sarich focused ex-clusively on race. In a widely quotedstatement, he wrote: "Unfortunately, thelevels of qualification, preparation, or mo-tivation are not randomly distributed withrespect to race and ethnicity."A month after the article appeared, the

protesters disrupted Sarich's anthropologycourse. None ofthem was a current studentin the course, although some had taken itbefore, and others claimed they had read theverbatim transcript of the lectures Sarichoffers as a study guide. The protesters at-tacked Sarich's stand on affirmative actionand the content of his course. Posters ap-peared on campus: "No more racist bullshit

in the name of academic freedom." In anop-ed piece, one faculty member accusedSarich of "attempting to destrov the self-esteem of black students in his classes."

All of this naturally focused microscopicattention on the content of Sarich's An-thropology 1 course. In the course Sarichteaches that human behaviors includingthose as complex as crime, college perfor-mance, gender roles, athletic ability, evencareer choice, can be understood in terms ofour genetic makeup, which is in turn formedbv evolutionary forces.

Sarich lectures a good deal about bothracial and sexual differences. The startingpoint of the course is what Sarich calls the"reproductive game," an evolutionary pro-

cess that he savs makes males intrinsicallygreater risk-takers than females. Males cansire many more children than females, so theywill "play a higher risk game because there isa greater ultimate potential gain." Higherrisks means both winning and losing moreoften.

In contemporary society, Sarich argues,this translates into a male predispositiontoward crime, "the ultimate risk behavior,"and also means males end up most often atthe top and the bottom ofcollege classes.The most masculine men are rewarded withwomen and the most feminine are morelikely to become homosexuals. The homo-sexuals tend to enter, among other careersprofessions such as hair-dressing, where they

NEWS & COMMENT 36925 JANUARY 1991

are "advantaged in dealing with femalechoice and psyche."

Yet Sarich says genes don't have the finalsay; there is also free will-on which he putshis own spin. "It is neither nature nor nurturewhich is determining behavior but it is theeffects of nature and nurture filtered throughyou as an individual-and it is you as anindividual that has final control over thoseeffects." In that form,many researchers canagree with the prop-osition. But Sarichtakes it to extremes.Schizophrenics, hesays, are responsiblefor their conditionbecause they haven't"resisted" the dis-ease, and homosexu- A

als "choose" theirsexual orientation.

Culture, whilegenerally de-empha-sized in Sarich'scourse, does playsome role there.That blacks andHispanics perform less well than whites inour educational system, he says, "is not aracial thing. In fact, very little of it is racial-that is, genetic." It's cultural, Sarich argues:These ethnic groups don't stress education.Some of Sarich's colleagues say many of

his arguments don't hold water scientifi-cally. "It's not good science, it's not badscience, it's not science at all," says NancyScheper-Hughes, a colleague and vehementSarich critic who does research in a numberof the areas covered in his course. Sarich'slectures, says Scheper-Hughes, rely prima-rily on anecdotal evidence rather than onscholarly studies.

Stanford population geneticist MarcusFeldman describes Sarich's analysis as a se-ries ofopinions that don't have any evidenceto back them up. "These kinds of simplisticstatements take no account of cultural evo-lution and the interaction of cultural andbiological phenomenon."Among geneticists, says Berkeley molecu-

lar and cell biology professor RichardStrohman, "Those of us who have followedSarich's [teaching] are amused-that youcan explain large swathes of behavior by asimple genetic paradigm....We don't evenunderstand the genetic basis of develop-ment in the worm, let alone humans."

Sarich, however, contends that he is sim-ply providing a counterbalance to what istaught in many other campus courses-courses that slight the genetic contributionto human behavior. "The wrong person isbeing challenged here," he says. "There is far

more discussion of... social, cultural, and freewill influences on human behavior in my classthan there is of biological influences of hu-man behavior in any one else's." Other classesdenigrate evolutionary biology, either ex-plicitly or by omission, he says. "You can dothat with impunity because [the influence ofthe environment on human behavior] is theruling idea in the field."

Furthermore, Sarich argues,_ those who accuse him of ge-

© netic determinism are missing_ a major theme of his course:

J that genes influence-but do_ not determine-behavior._, "The most frustrating aspect

of discussing causation of hu-man behavior is: as soon asone raises genes, the studentsappend determinism. It's notwhat I do, it's what peoplecome in with."

"It's not good science, it's notbad science, it's not science-atall. S -

-NANCY SCHEPER-HUGHES

As to the charge of intellectual heavy-handedness-a charge that's been made bysome other faculty members-Sarich saysthat's off-base too. He says students are onlyrequired to understand, not accept, the coursematerial and that balance comes in whenstudents take other courses. He adds that heholds an optional, open-ended discussionsession where students can bring up any topicthey wish, and their comments are oftenbrought up in subsequent lectures. Further-more, an examination ofthe course transcriptshows that Sarich does bring up opposingviews-although often in a critical fashion.

Nevertheless, Berkeley anthropologistLaura Nader refers to Sarich's course as "in-doctrination," pointing to the fact that thereis no textbook (the course reader is 138pages-slender compared to those in somecourses) and no questions allowed in lecture.Adds Scheper-Hughes: "I don't want to saythere's mind control going on, but the infor-mation is extremely restricted." There is, forexample, minimal attention in lectures andreadings devoted to basic genetics.

There is also no lecture or readings on basichuman evolution, which is among the lacu-nae that have led some faculty to contend thatSarich simply doesn't do an adequate job ofpreparing students for upper-division coursesin the field. "It's a question ofcompetence,"says Nader. According to Michael Nunley,current teaching assistant in the course, agreat majority of students couldn't give abrief, satisfactory definition of natural selec-

tion on the midterm exam.But even his critics acknowledge that Sarich

does cover some of the basic material inintroductory anthropology. Says MargaretConkey, another departmental colleague:"He's not teaching English literature." Andthe teaching assistants who run the discus-sion sections fill in some ofthe gaps. Conkeythinks students are getting perhaps a third ofthe information needed to go on to higherlevel anthropology courses.Sherwood Washburn, the eminent Berke-

ley physical anthropologist who hired Sar-ich-but who has since soured on him-thinks the basic problem is simply that VincentSarich "likes to raise hell. He purposefullypicks topics that will get the students mad."To this charge, Sarich pleads guilty. "Of

course I like to raise hell," he says. "I like toillustrate points by dealing with subjects thatare as controversial as possible." He arguesthat such choices make his class both intellec-tually exciting and philosophically relevant."I don't think anyone's ever accused myclass of being boring." He carries around astack of complimentary letters from studentsattesting to that fact.But the flamboyant personality of

Vincent Sarich aside, the imbroglio he's atthe center of raises important questions forthe academic research community. First ofall, is he being treated fairly? Even his criticsadmit few professors could withstand thekind of scrutiny Sarich is getting. SaysStephen Smale, a Fields prize winner in math-ematics and 1960s free-speech activist whoran into plenty ofcriticism himselfon campusduring the Vietnam era: "I don't mean todefend Sarich by any means, but I'm some-times more upset that people hold him todifferent standards." Smale cites sociology,energy and resources, even physics, as sub-jects where advocacy courses-with a liberalbent-are taught. "I see this huge attack onhim tending toward a more conformist cam-pus.... I find it interesting to have someonelike this on campus, saying things that arevery much against the prevailing views."Tom White, an evolutionary biologist

who is familiar with Sarich, some of thecritics, and the much thumbed Sarich lec-ture notes, thinks the critics have somebiases themselves. "I think that some of hiscritics quote only the lecture material theyfind objectionable when Sarich is actuallygiving opposing arguments in order to chal-lenge the students to think about and formtheir own conclusions on these subjects."

"Sarich is almost unique in that depart-ment in having a molecular or genetic per-spective," say White. "You'd hate to elimi-nate that which is necessary for getting edu-cated in anthropology today." White faultsSarich for presenting opinions, including ste-

SCIENCE, VOL. 251370

reotypes, as scientific theories, but says thatthe last third of the course, in which Sarichtalks about the primate fossil record andmolecular evolution (Sarich's areas of exper-tise), "is a credit to the department."Beyond the issue of fairness lurk deeper-

and much more difficult-questions of howto handle the case ofan eminent scientist whoteaches material others object to. One of thefew things most members of the faculty andadministration agree on in this case is that thedisruption of Sarich's course was wrong. "Ifyou don't like what a person is saying orteaching, you cannot silence him by closinghis class by violence," says vice-chancellorJohn Heilbron, who is in charge ofacademicissues at Berkeley. Indeed, the AcademicSenate Committee on Academic Freedomcondemned the disruption, and disciplinaryaction is proceeding against the protesterswho have been identified.

But the issue of academic responsibility-ofwhat should be taught in science coursesand who should decide-is tougher to settle.Perhaps because it might have a chillingeffect on academic freedom, there is no well-established procedure for monitoring thecontent of courses at Berkeley. The reviewestablished by the anthropology departmentwas one such effort, but that ended after theVice-chancellor "suggested" that the Aca-demic Senate's Committee on Courses wasthe appropriate forum for a review.

Yet Fiona Doyle, chair of that committee,says that authority over curricula is delegatedto the department, which has the expertise tojudge course content. To make matters worse,the anthropology department at Berkeley-ahotbed offractious debates and personal ani-mosities-is so splintered that it has no chair-person. "Nobody is really in a position ofauthority," says Stanley Brandes, head of thedepartment's executive committee.Although no one on the faculty takes very

seriously the protesters' demands that thetenured Sarich be fired, some have floated theidea that he not teach the introductorycourse, but only courses relevant to hisspecific expertise or electives. If the depart-ment does decide to take that step, Sarichcould appeal to the university's Committeeon Privilege or its Committee on AcademicFreedom.

For the administration, the controversyhas been unsettling. "We're in a land wherewe haven't many guideposts," laments vice-chancellor Heilbron. Sarich is going on sab-batical next semester, and is not scheduledto teach Anthropology 1 next year. "Thespan of attention at Berkeley may not last ayear and a half," says Heilbron, "but theissues are perennial." a PAUL SELVINPaul Selvin is apostdoctoral researcher in

biophysics at UC Berkeley.

U.S. Backing for Fusion Project SeenIn the next few weeks, the Bush Administra-tion is expected to announce that the UnitedStates will continue its participation in a ma-jor multinational effort to design a fusionenergy test reactor. The first phase of theproject, involving preliminary design work onthe machine, the International Thermonu-clear Experimental Reactor (ITER), wascompleted in December. The next stage-advanced design and R&D-is expected tocost $1 billion, and the Department of En-ergy has been keeping fusion researchersguessing about its willingness to ante up.There are now signs, however, that the Ad-ministration has decided to back the effort.The strongest evidence of the Admin-

istration's intent is that some $40 million forthe undertaking, sources say, is included inthe fiscal year 1992 budget that PresidentBush will present to Congress in early Febru-ary. In addition, although formal negotia-tions have not yet begun with the otherpartners in the venture-the European Com-munity, Japan, and the Soviet Union-gov-ernment and industry officials say most of

the planning for the second phase has beenworked out through unofficial discussions.Another positive signal for ITER is an

announcement by DOE last week that it haschosen San Diego, California, as the U.S.candidate for a site for the project. The Euro-pean Community and Japan are expected tooffer their own candidates next month, and afinal selection would come later in the year.

"Right now things are looking pretty goodfor ITER," comments John Clarke, theformer director of the Office of Fusion En-ergy and, until recently, chairman of theITER Council, which has been overseeingphase one. A total of $200 million has beenspent over the past 3 years to produce theconceptual design for the reactor. There is nocommitment on the part of any country atthis point, however, to actually build the $6-billion device. That decision will not come for5 or 6 years, when the final design is com-pleted and better cost estimates are in hand.

E MARK CRAWFORDMark Crawford is a reporter with New

Technology Week.

High Noon in UtahUtah officials seem to be running out ofpatience with Stanley Pons, the chemist whoclaimed to have discovered cold fusion nearly2 years ago. The University of Utah, Pons'employer, has given him until 1 February tohand over the raw data from experimentsthat Pons claims prove the existence ofcoldfusion. And the Fusion Energy AdvisoryCouncil, which oversees the $5-million in-vestment that the state legislature made incold fusion research at the university, maywithhold the rest of Pons' share of thosefunds if they are not satisfied with his data.The state has already spent $4.1 million,

says Randy Moon, Utah state science adviserand a member of the advisory council. Thecouncil is now deciding whether to releasethe rest to the university, which in turnwould give about 20% ofthe money to Ponsand the remainder to the National ColdFusion Institute in Salt Lake City. The prob-lem, Moon says, is that the university has notprovided the council with complete infor-mation about results from cold fusion re-search conducted so far. The university, inturn, blames Pons. John Morris, associatevice president for academic affairs, says thework from the cold fusion institute is "fun-damentally sound," but the university hasnot been able to evaluate Pons' work be-cause it "didn't have the details."

To solve the problem, the university con-vinced Pons and his lawyer to agree to turnover Pons' raw data to Wilford Hansen, aphysicist at Utah State University and amember of the advisory council. Accordingto the written agreement, Pons promised togive Hansen part of the data by 14 Januaryand the rest of it by 1 February. Hansen saysthat Pons met the first deadline.

But the advisory council is not waiting. Ithas given the university until 22 January toannounce how it proposes to spend the restofthe funds. IfPons' data are unconvincing,the council may not approve any spendingplan that includes support for Pons. And,Moon adds, unsatisfactory data from Ponscould endanger the whole effort. "The thingthat got everybody excited was the excessenergy from Dr. Pons' experiments and,darn it, that's what we invested in."

Meanwhile, Pons has quit his tenuredprofessor position at the university and ac-cepted an 18-month contract as a researchprofessor. Three months ago, Pons re-quested a sabbatical from the university,saying he wished to concentrate on research,but that fell through. Morris gave no detailson the negotiations that led to Pons' newrelation with the university, but did say thatthe university did not force him out.

* ROBERT POOL

NEWS & COMMENT 37125 JANUARY 1991