Botany in the Biology Curriculum

Upon reflection, I conclude that it was in a moment of weakness that I consented to formulate my thoughts on the problems of teaching botany in an elementary course, whether this is called botany or biology. This is because there is no one perfect solution, for there are so many different ways in achieve essentially desirable ends I begin with a general remark because some of my botanical colleagues seem to have doubts about the current status of botanical science and its future. I am so prompted because I, like others, recall an experience at the last International Botanical Congress held at Edinburgh. There were those at that Congress who bewailed the status of botany, referring to it as the "Cinderella of the biological sciences," and, weeping at a sort of botanical wailingwall, they wondered what was going to happen next. And, of course, their fear was that botany would lose its identity and be swallowed up in an amorphous sort of general biology on the one hand or become a branch of biochemistry on the other. However, I am not one who shares these fears. I see nothing wrong with the subject of botany and, you note, I don't hesitate to call it botany -or plant science if you will. (Although I now enjoy the title of Alexander Professor of Biological Sciences, it is clear from what I do that I am still a Professor of Botany under another name.) I begin, therefore, with the assertion that there is nothing wrong with the plants; there is nothing wrong with the problems; there is, in short, nothing wrong with the subject that an aggressive, interesting, modern presentation of botanical problems to fresh, eager young minds will not solve. This type of presentation is the first thing that a first-rate, first year course should do. At the outset, it will be noted, I unhesitatingly speak for the identified study of plants. Plants are not animals and I reiterate this after a long and checkered career! Higher plants are not merely something more complicated than bacteria, nor are they merely somewhat undeveloped animals. Plants, culminating in the highly successful organisms which really predominate on this earth, have evolved a distinctive way of life. Any teaching of botany, at any level, should therefore present the study of plants with enthusiasm for its own sake and with respect for their over-riding importance in the biological scheme of things. It should not be necessary to point out that really this is the age of the angiosperms; there is, in fact, more protoplasm in the form of plants on the face of the earth than in any other form. One can imagine, though without any prior knowledge, that there may exist somewhere in outer space, a complicated system of biology without any animals; but I cannot imagine a complicated biology without something that behaves like what we now call plants and, perhaps, bacteria. (In "Erewhon," Samuel Butler spoke about the "rights of vegetables"; he did not contemplate some "far-out" Erewhon where only vegetables exist!) Therefore, botanists should have no inferiority complex about all this modern biology business. Whether in a first course in botany, in plant science, or as part of a biology curriculum, I think it is essential to present the study of plants and the problems they present with enthusiasm, with a gift for exposition, and to do this for its own sake because plants are so overwhelmingly important to man. Thus I am concerned, first, not only for the factual content of a first course in botany or with the botany in a biology course but also with the teacher who teaches it; we should give as much attention to the teacher as to the subject taught. Here I would recognize that any dynamic, dedicated teacher will put his material over in his own way. If he does this, the student is bound to profit, even if he does not always agree. It is my view that too often we fail to put the most experienced investigator or the teacher who has the most experience, who is the most up-to-date, who is most excited about the subject, and who has the best gift for exposition in what is, in fact, the greatest task of all; namely, teaching the students in their first course, even in their first year. This is where minds can be molded and students induced to change their objectives. My next point concerns history. Even at the outset, our teaching should engender a respect for the history of the subject. No science reaches its present position without a historical development. We should not, therefore, teach the subject solely as it exists in 1966, as though we were getting it all, red hot, out of the latest Scientific American-just that and no more. Even though, pedagogically, this could be done and we could inform the student about what we know without cluttering his mind with anything else, would this be wise? Would he not be like a 1966 car, meeting the latest fashion, but with its own "built-in obsolescence" that demands a trade-in for a new model 2 or 3 years hence? The student who is too soon nurtured solely on everything fresh and modern, bangup-to-date, with that and only that, is going to be lost when his stock-in-trade proves to be, in large part, the scientific mood of a present which is soon outmoded. How do we prevent this? My method is to recognize that all sciences, all subjects, have had a historical development; they have changed through the ages or even in recent times. Great names have made their impact upon them; and the role of history is to help us understand the present even anticipate the future through the trends of the past. I am not, for example, overwhelmed by the modern furor about DNA, important as this substance is, because for me the study of nucleic acids isn't only a strictly modern discipline. I recall that when studying chemistry in 1924 we had a special little course, a few lectures in organic chemistry about those mysterious substances found in salmon eggs; and a far-sighted teacher anticipated, even then, that they were going to be very important. There is even a lesson