Monday, Apr. 13, 1970

Rx for Democracy

Patrick Fiorello Ginsburg is a hypothetical young man of indeterminate age. His E.Q. (Ethnic Quotient), however, can be precisely and succinctly stated as J64:Med23:G13. Translated, that signifies that he is 64% Jewish, 23% Italian (the "Med" standing for Mediterranean ancestry) and 13% Irish (Gaelic). Of what use to Ginsburg is his E.Q., which, if the "New Democracy" prevails, will be attached to him at birth and govern his role in society for the rest of his life?

The answer is in a slender book, The Sociology of the pmsqy, published by Simon & Schuster. Its author is identified only as "Professor X."

Tutorial Mix. X's rescue program involves rejecting all the prevailing values and substituting others of his own creation. The Ethnic Quotient, for instance, would replace the Intelligence Quotient (IQ)--a measurement that Professor X regards as "merely quantitative." Applied to public education, a student's E.Q. would determine his tutorial mix. In the case of young Ginsburg, his teachers would be Jewish, Mediterranean and Irish in just the same proportion as his own ethnicity. So would his curriculum--and, for that matter, his school lunches. For Ginsburg, this varied diet would alleviate the relatively high content of polyunsaturated fats found in blintzes, salami and the other elements of the J cuisine.

Even more effective in promoting the New Democracy would be the Merit Quotient (M.Q.), a concept so imaginative that it can be defined only in X's own words: "The persons who (in their ancestors) most suffered or were most disadvantaged in the past, must be specially privileged and advantaged in the present. Contrariwise those who were overprivileged in the past (in the persons of their ancestors) must have their historical balance rectified by being made underprivileged in the present."

An M.Q. of 100 is impossible, since "it would be necessary for all a person's ancestors to have been victims of genocide, and presumably even before any of them had had the pleasure of procreating children." A zero M.Q., according to X's calculation, would indicate that the individual's ancestors had realized a perfect balance of pleasure and pain. X concedes that setting M.Q.s between those extremes will not be easy.

Curricular Daiquiri. Elsewhere in the book, X resourcefully solves many of democracy's thorniest problems. For example:

CRIME. After enunciating a principle --"The primary cause of crime, the one and only cause of crime, is law" --X announces the remedy: undermine law by increasing crime.

ACADEMIC PRESTIGE. This is flimsily supported, says X, by such misleading designations as "lower schools," "high schools" and "higher education." X would grant academic degrees at any level, and he would shake the curriculum as vigorously as a daiquiri. Hence, at the university level, students might study basket weaving and finger painting; kindergartens and elementary schools would offer courses in demography and experimental biology. No students would be failed, a strategy that "would relieve them of having to resort to the indignity of intimidating the faculty with guns and knives."

VIOLENCE. To eliminate this problem, X borrows inspiration from homeopathy, in which a disease is treated with a remedy that would produce symptoms of the disease in a healthy person. "May it not be," asks X, "that the true remedy for a society ridden by more and more violence may actually be additional doses of violence (administered sporadically and universally) throughout society?"

Outraged. The true identity of Professor X is jealously guarded by the distinguished historian Daniel J. Boorstin (The Americans: The National Experience), who contributed an introduction to the book and saw it through into print. The manuscript reached his attention, Boorstin says, after it was mailed to a charitable foundation whose millions he helps disburse. Along with it came Professor X's appeal for a grant of $3,420 to finance a feasibility study. Other foundation officers were outraged at the modesty of X's request, observing that it would cost more than that--$4,500 --merely to process the application.

Despite their objections, Boorstin found the text "extremely interesting, and even courageous." It is probably a good thing that this judgment was delivered in writing rather than orally, since Boorstin's tongue is so obviously lodged in his cheek.

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