ADDING TO THE DECK OF CARDS. First, an update. Bill and Mary's Timothy Sullivan continues to behave like he's been hit on the head with nine clubs. Discriminations notes that Mr Sullivan is one of those people who is quick to find "hurtful" the actions of others who disagree with him. His own actions are simply imposing desirable correctives. Critical Mass has more.

Second, Messrs. Schneider and Schwarz have concurred with the Superintendent's suggestion that Pitzer's Laura Skandera Trombley be the eight of hearts.

Third, Joanne Jacobs has identified a good candidate for the nine of diamonds, Chester Finn. This designation may strike some readers as a bit unusual, but there are good reasons for making Mr. Finn a relatively weak trump card (it can be used by the defenders to frustrate a Player or Players with a weak hand, but it must be viewed with some care by its holder, should the holder be in the position of picking up the blind.)

Chester Finn is the nine of diamonds as a caution to those who would seek to turf out the existing academic mindset that there are weak trumps and strong trumps that can accomplish the turfing-out. Mr Finn's argument is a relatively weak argument. It takes something to beat nothing. Unfortunately, Mr Finn has taken the case against empty curricula and competition for students on the basis of amenities and used it to make some more controversial suggestions about the role of the university. Consider "A fee-for-service basis for college-delivered services that not all students avail themselves of: placement offices, art studios, psychological counseling, health care, etc." Would it really be better to contract out the hiring to the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees? Would it be prudent to have a residential campus without a clinic? And does Mr Finn envision a curriculum without any of the visual or performing arts? Or consider this proposal: "Faculty paid well but worked hard: a full teaching load, no tenure, and the expectation that their job is to teach. (Those wanting to engage in research raise grant dollars and "buy out" some of their teaching time.)" First, define "full teaching load." Does Mr Finn envision a few faculty members each meeting four or five large lecture classes per semester, or will there be ample opportunities for group projects, interactive learning, and frequent assignments, promptly graded. Second, does Mr Finn propose to turn into research only that which can be funded (if it is of commercial value, let the businesses or government agencies hire Ph.D.s and pay them proper salaries; if there is to be a government agency such as National Science Foundation funding the research, the academic politics do not go away.) Has he considered the possibility that independent and creative research (with perhaps some revised incentives to produce stuff that others will read) has its value? A student at a university where nobody does any research is in the position of a wallflower at a party, watching others engaging in the intelligent conversation. (Thanks to Steven Landsburg for this metaphor.) It does not follow that restoring Aristotle and Aquinas to the curriculum means there are no open questions for the philosophers and political theorists (and others) to explore. The act of exploring such ideas goes by the name of research.

Most importantly, the for-profit no-frills university Mr Finn hails is really making its money off of failures elsewhere in the system; it is not a substitute for a serious university education.

Third, higher education has developed a fast-growing sector that (no thanks to me) follows the no-frills formula: the proprietary sector, characterized by the University of Phoenix and kindred vendors of efficient and relatively inexpensive postsecondary schooling. Entrepreneurs have figured out a formula for delivering an acceptable level of instruction and training at reasonable cost to people who are willing to pay for it. More remarkably, while traditional suppliers weep over their deficits and deferred maintenance, the proprietors of these new institutions are making money!

Sure, charge people a few hundred bucks to get together with colleagues in related business, let them talk shop, and issue them a certificate. The companies might be willing to pony up some of the money to subcontract their employee training to others. But the exchange of a few marketing strategies or production tricks is not the same thing as a real university degree, and the act of writing some business memoranda for college credit is just paying twice for something the high schools should have done.

All is not perfect in higher education. Change for its own sake, however, is not equivalent to improving the service.