One or two recollections of Sid
Sid chaired the very first dissertation defense I sat on as a baby professor at Hopkins. These are rather formal affairs. In those days, two of the examiners were from the candidate’s department, and three from outside. The chair was the most senior faculty member from an outside department.
As I recall, this defense was in political science. The order of questioners was determined in advance. I was second to last and Sid, as chair, was last.
The defense was scheduled for two hours. In my naïveté, I supposed that the two hour period was merely a suggestion and that the exam would go on as long as it needed to – that is, until all relevant questions were asked and answered. So when it came my turn, I took the bit between my teeth and was off. I had lots of questions. When I finally lapsed into silence, Sid said “I will invoke the privilege of the chair to not ask questions.” And so we wound up the exam within the regulation two hours.
Now, Sid could have stopped me at any time. He merely had to say that I had used up my alloted time and could I save any further questions for the end if there was time for them. As I came subsequently to learn, chairs never invoke their supposed privilege to not ask questions. When I think back on it, the other examiners must have been pretty surprised at what was really quite an innovation.
At the time, all of the subtleties of the situation completely passed me by. I didn’t connect the ‘privilege of the chair’ with any time constraints because I still didn’t get that they really, really meant two hours.
Now I realize that Sid was being both very generous and very gentle with me. I’m sure he had lots of questions, fathoms deeper than mine. If he had chosen to cut me off, no matter how politely, I would have been embarrassed in front of a collection of senior faculty – a very bad thing for an assistant professor. In any case, I was on such a tear that he could only have stopped me by almost literally slapping me down. Instead, he offered shelter so invisibly that I didn’t know it had happened.
A shorter recollection: Some years later, Sid and I were sitting together in a seminar. I don’t remember who was speaking or what the topic was. But in the Q&A following I asked a question that Sid liked very much. He wrote a note on an index card in his precise handwriting and passed it to me. The note thanked me for being annoying enough to raise the issue of class. I carried that note around for years, a cherished token, until it disintegrated. One of my proudest moments.
