Street Seens: WHAT – A Test To Welcome
In the interest of full disclosure, let me note that:
- The “test” of the title is a standardized test.
- I’m no fan of standardized testing.
- You who have shared our walks in this urban village know how passionately I believe that there are no coincidences.
- With those points in mind, I invite you to come with me on the path that brought me to this reflection.
So, before you check out, in response to any of those points, consider this. There are some pretty significant benefits we and our friends have gotten over the years from standardized aptitude tests. I was reminded of one I had forgotten since the days of a high school SAT in the course of research for this column. The best bit of good news was this: when a candidate takes a standardized test, time spent in the interviewing process can be reduced as much as 50 percent. That was the big one, for me. And if you share my lingering “campaign fatigue” you may agree. It would be hard to underestimate the positives of such an outcome. Imagine a future campaign season reduced by as much as 50%. Imagine the prospect that the stress and strain of revolving doors delivering and removing a puzzling array of staffers to the Peoples’ House can be diminished. Those two points alone would make WHAT a standardized test to welcome.
Oh, by the way I just realized that I never spelled out what the acronym WHAT means. It’s a WHITE HOUSE APTITUDE TEST. This would be a simple, multiple choice test taken by all potential candidates for any/all posts to be elected, appointed or otherwise awarded to the people who serve in what has been known for more than a couple of centuries as “the People’s House.” That title provides really valuable guard rails within which the WHAT operates. Test takers are welcomed to sign up and serve, but are reminded, right up front, not to get the idea that they are the permanent proprietors of any part of the turf they’re hired to serve. That would apply equally to all the candidates, from the butler to the Chief of Staff; the chief of protocol, the Press Representative or national security advisor.
While wrestling with the pros and cons of writing this column, I happened on a remarkable televised conversation between Charlie Rose and Jennet Conant, author of Man of the Hour: James B. Conant, Warrior Scientist. Her 2017 biography of her Grandfather James B. Conant, a prominent chemist, president of Harvard University, and ambassador to Germany included a real “there are no coincidences in life” moment when Conant mentioned that he was also the “Father of the SAT.” Appointed President of Harvard in the era of the Great Depression, she explained that he saw this standardized test as a chance to open the doors to a “meritocracy.” It was one of the ways to offer opportunities to children blessed with intelligence, if not with pedigrees of wealth or worldly power.
It turns out that this larger than life figure of the 20th Century grew up in a middle-class area of Massachusetts that his granddaughter and biographer pronounced, “Dawchesta,” mimicking the pronunciation he would have shared with Kennedys and Conants launched by different skill sets to the worlds of politics, chemistry and academics. James Conant held a two-edged sword of intelligence that involved him in the creation of some of the 20th Century’s most chilling weapons and one of its bravest initiatives. After her grandfather’s challenging years with chemical and nuclear weaponry research it seems that there are reasons closer to home for most of us to remember him.
Today, for supporters of the WHAT, there’s a great “crib sheet” readily available to all future candidates at pretty much every bookstore. It’s called The Constitution, and it deserves its longevity and credibility as a living monument to some citizen farmers and lawyers, clergymen. It seems that it may have taken even those folks a little too long to take Abigail Adams’ advice seriously and tap into their distaff side’s skills and strength.
A few simple points can be kept in mind when candidates “sit” for the WHAT exam. For example: checks and balances don’t refer to banking, but to the wisdom of people who risked their lives to move beyond a monarchy based on everything from Divine Right to military might.
Credit them for fighting it out in an un air-conditioned room in a stifling Pennsylvania summer, to take an honest look at each other and their varied backgrounds and to reach some of these agreements. They agreed that a citizen-administered military would be a system with the greatest hope for longevity. And they were realistic enough to enshrine the separation of powers into the Constitution to distinguish it from the oligarchy of even the best-intentioned family business.
They found their way to some great ideas; for example: that when wisely and articulately expressed, clearly had power. And to their unfailing credit, the Founders recognized that in the end it was the truth that would make and keep them free. That shines through in the great little “crib sheet” that is still the best primer for taking and passing the WHAT test.
But for me, the “there are no coincidences” moment continued as Rose’s conversation with Conant was followed by a dialogue with the venerable diplomatic journalist Marvin Kalb. In 1956 the tall young American enjoyed a miracle of being in the right place at the right time. As detailed in his conversation with Charlie Rose, about his 2017 book The Year I was Peter the Great, he told of a moment that changed both his life and that of Russia. It was the moment when, after decades of enduring his despotism, the first person, Nikita Kruschev, dared to call Stalin for what he was. After a huge party congress and a seven-hour speech, Kruschev addressed a chosen nucleus of leaders of the various Soviet republics and dared to say aloud that Stalin was a murderer and tyrant and barely escaped delivering Russia into the hands of the Nazis by his misguided World War II strategies. Kalb’s book recounts the spectacle of the listeners to that presentation popping nitroglycerines and some, presumably succumbing to heart attacks when they heard someone dare to speak the unspeakable, and live.
Afterward, at a July 4th reception at Moscow’s American Embassy, Kruschev introduced the young American to the legendary Defense Minister Zhukov (over whom Kalb towered.) After answering the Minister’s question as to whether he played basketball and what was his height, Kalb had the wit and diplomatic finesse when asked his height, to report that he was several centimeters shorter than the 6 foot 8 inch Peter the Great. So, his irreplaceable gift for disarming conversation gave Kalb the title of his book and the platform for noting that in today’s world, the skill of a free press continues to be protected by the ability to study and be enlightened by history; to observe and to comment; and thus, to honor the gift enshrined in the First Amendment listed in that little “crib sheet” recommended for all who may one day take the highly recommended WHAT. It is, after all that gift for learning and speaking truth that is the best and perhaps the only tool that protects a free people from discourse that is all and only propaganda.
Photo: Bigstock
