My overall teaching goal is probably the same as that of all faculty members who are enthusiastic about teachingßstudent success. I have had the opportunity to work toward that goal both as faculty member in several departments, in classes at all levels (undergraduate, MBA, Ph.D., and Executive Education), ranging in size from small seminars to one of the largest classes on campus (Economics 1 A-B in Wheeler Auditorium), and as dean of the School of Business from 1976 to 1982.

A dean can challenge one of the myths about Berkeley—that its research ethos is so dominant that excellent instruction is an exception, not the rule. In the Business School, I created a student-administered award for outstanding teaching. The students contested the myth in the most convincing way—by providing their own evidence. Each year the student committee has difficulty choosing faculty winners, not for lack of nominees, but because their fellow students have nominated so many.

In my own teaching I try to create classroom conditions that foster student success, long-term as well as in the course, and work to achieve three specific goals: insofar as possible, to make my teaching and research joint products; as a faculty member in a professional school, to combine the useful arts with the liberal tradition; to help students strengthen their ability to write and speak effectively.

During my career at Berkeley, I have introduced new courses based on my research and have used my courses to further my research. For example, three new courses grew out of work that later became monographs. My interest in higher education led me to study the role of professional education in the university and the relationship of the new professional schools to their parent universities. For the School of Education, I taught an experimental course, The Origins and Directions of the New Professional Schools, in which we met at each school (the School of Forestry, the School of Agriculture, the School of Engineering, and so on), and I invited faculty and students of the school to attend. Many did, and I recall that course with a special fondness. It helped me understand how my colleagues in other professional schools contend with the problem captured in Whitehead's famous observation that the danger of an excellent technical education is its tendency to destroy those energies of mind needed to direct the skill.

In my courses, and in my work as dean, I have tried to find ways to maintain the appropriate balance between competing academic and professional interests, to strengthen those energies of mind needed to direct the skill.

Since the late 1950s, when my Economics 1 A-B classes were among the first to join in an experiment led by Josephine Miles of the English Department, I have designed courses and examinations to strengthen the writing ability of students. In my large undergraduate classes, students keep a journal. Their spirited engagement sustains my enthusiasm and renews my energy.