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Instant Democracy. The tone of these youthful voices—strident and self-confident, proud and often contemptuous—naturally grates on the ears of their elders. And the questions students raise create in turn a further question: Can you trust anyone under 30? Some of the men who have taught the Class of '68 have their doubts; they wonder whether so much youthful passion might lead to nothing more than an expense of spirit in a waste of shame. Cornell Economics Professor Alfred E. Kahn applauds the new social concern of this class but sees "impatience and intellectual arrogance" in much of the demand for "instant democracy." Williams' Dean John Hyde questions some of this generation's motives and asserts that many use a moral position as a façade for self-interest.
A more common complaint is that while the graduates may be guided by lofty ideals, they offer no pragmatic programs. They are basically indecisive. "They can't command and they won't obey," says Wallace Markfield, novelist and English professor at San Francisco State. As for their demands for student power, Notre Dame Sociology Professor Robert Hassenger whimsically suggests that universities ought to draw straws and let students run the school that loses. "It would be a shambles," he says. Others wonder whether some of today's moralistic, activist students are really willing to work at either an education or a productive job. Many students freely admit that they are tormented by the fear of losing their compassion—and their passion—a few years after graduation.
But whom can the nation trust, if not its young? Moreover, there are better reasons than sheer necessity for faith in the Class of '68. It is far ahead of the graduates of a decade ago in command of the skills that can make a society work. It is self-propelled and world-wise beyond its years. So rapidly has youth matured, says Northwestern Dean of Students Roland J. Hinz, that if Booth Tarkington were writing Seventeen today, he would have to call it Eleven.
Above all, perhaps, this generation of students has an instinct for humanity that may help redress what many of their elders concede is an imbalance in American life. Sociologist Edgar Friedenberg, one of the nation's most perceptive analysts of campus culture and a fond admirer of student activists, nevertheless warns that "a society in which intensity of feelings becomes a major driving force can be a frightening prospect." But so, of course, can a society in which feeling is frustrated and human hopes nullified by outmoded tradition or law, a situation that students cannot and will not accept. The spirit of '68 is at times uncomfortable and uncouth. It may also turn out to be the most creative ferment ever to disturb the college campuses.