Wow, those 7 days went by fast! I had flagged this memorable comment by JutGory as a Comment of the Day on the 13th, fully intending to get it up every single day since then, and my plans kept getting derailed (because this is how everything has been going since October around here). Fortunately, this particular entry is timeless, another example of one of my favorite kinds of reader comment, a personal reminiscence with an ethics kick. Also fortunately, the disgrace of Harvard president Claudine Gay, the matter that inspired Jut, is still reverberating. Still, I apologize for my delay.

Here is JutGory’s Comment of the Day on the post, “The Harvard President’s New Scandal: Now The Only Way Gay Can Prove She’s Fit To Lead The University Is To Leave It”:

***

I am not sure what to think of allegations of plagiarism.

I am probably both stupid and smart in this regard.

I attended St. John’s College. Plagiarism was hardly an issue. Everything you wrote was supposed to be original. If you wrote about Plato, it did not matter if you failed to attribute criticisms to Aristotle.

No one would plagiarize Aquinas when criticizing Aristotle.

If you plagiarized Plotinus in commenting on Plato, who would know?

The idea was not to research things, it was to think things.

(Amusingly, I attributed to Jesus a quote that was actually one of Rabbi Hillel. Who knew?)

Going into grad school in Philosophy, I was delightfully amused when my Logic Professor was surprised at my course essay. He expected a “book report” sort of essay, while I gave him an original response to the the work. I did not cite anything. Why should I? The thoughts came out of my head, and my name was on the front page of the paper.

Then, I had my Master’s Thesis. I was working with one of the most accomplished authorities in Kantian Ethics/Morality. Working with this individual was the main reason I went to this school. I analyzed the moral systems of Kant and the Stoics and how they addressed Cosmopolitanism (the antiquated term for “DEI”).

My advisor, whose name will remain unnamed, was skeptical about my thesis. The DEI verdict on Kant was that he was a racist who anthropologized racism and, essentially, created racist anthropology. It’s not an entirely unjustified opinion; I just asserted it was essentially wrong.

When my thesis was finished, he said it was not done. He had all kinds of criticisms and told me that I needed more time. I was scheduled to go to Law School in the Fall (a decision precipitated in no small part to the dearth of pecuniary gain that could be had by the argumentation of frivolous matters, a risk that is less occasioned upon those in the legal field).

I doubled down on my thesis. His critique pushed me to do better. I read more. I thought more. I wrote more. (I often remember this time as one in which I wrote freely and without pressure for 2 hours every morning, for months at a time; it was a time with no distractions.).

I got done with my thesis several months later. I was very happy with it, but have since caught a few stray typos (take note Jack!).

My advisor? He said he was surprised that I had written a convincing thesis on my point. Keep in kind, he “wrote the book” on Kantian morality (except, of course, for Kant, who literally wrote at least 3 books on Kantian Morality).

He was even so blunt to say, “Did you plagiarize this?” He did not think I could demonstrate that I did not: my thesis was too good. This was 1996; it was probably too early for the sorts of internet searches we would have today.

I told him that I was flattered that he thought I copied someone, but Kant would say that I should be offended by the accusation. I do not believe he got my reference, but he had not been immersed in Kant for the prior 8 months. Hell, today, it would take me a good bit of time to find the reference I had in mind.

He believed me. He warned me that I should beware of others who might want to steal my ideas and said it would be a good start to a Doctoral Thesis. I got my Masters in Philosophy and went into Law School a few weeks after graduation, a graduation I missed because…what did I care?

The sad ending: (No, it is not that I ended up in Law School…I think.). I went back to visit my alma mater a few years later (10 years?). I called my old advisor to see how he was doing. I spoke to his wife. I told her I wanted to see him. She said he had had a stroke a few years earlier. She wanted to know why I was calling. She sounded like someone who had served as a gatekeeper for many people seeking to take advantage of him.

I told her (as I recall) that he helped me write a thesis on Stoic and Kantian ethics. When I called back a few days later, she said that he said that it sounded like a really interesting topic for a thesis, but he was not taking visitors.

That was the second time in my life that I was rebuffed by a dying man regarding a meeting.

RIP-Denis

RIP Roger

***

It’s me again.

Jut’s story has particular resonance because I too have had the experience of seeking out an old mentor and being foiled by fate. I had been out of touch with my first year contracts professor and freind for too long, and called him to see how he was doing and schedule a visit. I was stunned at the reaction I got: Dick sounded angry and dismissive, and pretty much hung up on me.

He died not long after. I learned that my friend had suffered a stroke a few weeks before I called and was left blind as well as clinically depressed. He had been rebuffing all attempts to speak with him or visit since losing his sight. It still haunts me that my last conversation with a man I respected and owed so much to had ended the way it did. In this season, when thoughts of reaching out to loved ones I have neglected or lost contact with are especially strong, I think about that sad episode and reflect upon how any time may prove too late, and how little control we have over that reality.