Arthur Hailey - Strong Medicine

Again, as time went by, he brooded over that latest decision, repeating the torture of his earlier questions. An angel looking into Vincent Lord's soul might well have wondered-Why? During Lord's time as an assistant professor his reputation as a steroid expert burgeoned, not only at U of I but far beyond. In slightly more than four years he published fifteen scientific papers, some in prestigious publications including the Journal of the American Chemical Society and Journal of Biological Chemistry. It was an excellent record, considering his low-totem-pole status at the university. And that was something which infuriated Dr. Lord, increasingly as time went on. In the arcane world of scholarship and science, promotions are seldom speedy and almost always painfully slow. The next upward step for Vincent Lord would be to associate professor-a tenured appointment, tenure itself equating a laurel wreath or lifetime financial security, whichever way you looked at it. Associate professorship was also a signal saying, you have made it. You are one of the elite of academia. You have something which cannot be taken away, and are free to work as you choose, with only limited interference from above. You have arrived.

Vincent Lord wanted that promotion badly. And he wanted it now. Not in another two years, the remaining period which, as the mills of academia ground, he would normally have to wait. Thus, wondering why the idea hadn't occurred to him sooner, he decided to seek accelerated promotion. With his record, he reasoned, it should be a snap, a mere formality. Full of confidence, he prepared a bibliography, telephoned for an appointment with the dean the following week, and when the appointment was arranged, dispatched the bibliography to precede him.

Dean Robert Harris was a small man, wizened and wise, though his wisdom included doubts of his own ability to make the Socratic decisions frequently required of him. Basically a scientist, he still kept his hand in with a small laboratory, and attended scientific meetings several times each year. Most of his working hours though, were taken up with chemistry school administration. On a morning in March 1957 Dean Harris was in his office, turning pages of Dr. Vincent Lord's bibliography and wondering why it had been sent. With someone as temperamental and unpredictable as Lord there could be a dozen reasons. Well, he would find out soon. The subject of the bibliography was due to arrive in fifteen minutes. Closing the bulky folder which he had read fully and carefully the dean was by nature conscientious-he leaned back in the armchair behind his desk, musing on facts and his private, personal instincts about Vincent Lord. The man had genius potential. No doubt of it. If the dean had not known that already, he would have learned it from his recent reading of Lord's published work and reviews and accolades concerning it. In his chosen field Vince Lord could, and probably would, scale the Parnassus heights. With reasonable luck, which scientists like other mortals needed, some splendid discovery might well be in his future, bringing renown to himself and U of 1. Everything seemed positive, all signals set at green. And yet... Dr. Vincent Lord at times made Dean Harris feel uneasy. The reason was not the high-strung temperament exhibited by Lord; that and brilliance quite often went together and in tandem were acceptable. Any university-the dean sighed as he thought about it-was a cauldron of animus and jealousies, often over unimportant issues argued with surprising pettiness. No, it was something else, something more-a question raised once before and recently raised again. It was: Did the seeds of intellectual dishonesty, and therefore scientific fraud, lie somewhere deep in Vincent Lord? Nearly four years earlier, in the first year of Dr. Lord's assistant professorship, he had prepared a scientific paper on a series of experiments which, as Lord described them, produced exceptional results. The paper was close to being published when a colleague at U of 1, a more senior organic chemist, let it be known that while attempting to repeat the experiments and results described by Dr. Lord, he could not do so; his results were different. An investigation followed. It showed that Vincent Lord bad made mistakes. They appeared to be honest mistakes of misinterpretation, and Lord's paper was rewritten and later published. It did not, however, create the stir scientifically which the originally stated results-had they been correct-would have caused. In itself the incident had no significance. What had happened to Dr. Lord occasionally happened to the best of scientists. All made mistakes. But if a scientist later discovered an error of his own, it was considered normal and ethical to announce the error and correct any published work. What was different in Lord's case was an intuition, a suspicion among his peers based on Lord's reaction when confronted, that he had known about the errors, probably discovered after his paper was prepared, but had kept quiet, hoping no one else would notice. For a while there were rumblings on campus about moral sense and ethics. Then, following a series of unchallenged and praised discoveries by Vincent Lord, the rumblings died down, the incident apparently forgotten. Dean Harris had almost forgotten too. Until a conversation two weeks earlier at a scientific conference in San Francisco. "Listen, Bobby," a professor from Stanford University and longtime crony bad told Harris over drinks one evening, "if I were you I'd keep an eye on your guy Lord. Some of us have found his two latest papers non-repeatable. His syntheses are okay, but we don't get those spectacular yields he claims.”

When pressed for more details, the informant added, "I'm not saying Lord isn't honest, and we all know he's good. But there's an impression around that he's a young man in a hurry, maybe too much of a hurry. You and I both know what that can mean, Bobby --once in a while cutting corners, interpreting data the way you wish it to come out. It adds up to scientific arrogance and danger. So what I'm saying is: For the good of U of 1, and your own good, watch out!" A worried, thoughtful Dean Harris nodded his thanks for the advice. Back at Champaign-Urbana he had summoned the chairman of Dr. Lord's department and repeated the San Francisco conversation. The dean then asked: What about those two last published papers of Vince Lord's? Next day the department chairman was back in the dean's office with an answer. Yes, Dr. Lord acknowledged there was some dispute about his latest published results; he intended to run the experiments again and, if appropriate, would publish a correction. On the face of it-fair enough. Yet, overhanging the conversation was the unspoken question: Would Lord have acted if someone else had not brought attention to the subject? Now, two weeks later, Dean Harris was again pondering that question when his secretary announced, "Dr. Lord is here for his appointment.”

"So that's it," Vincent Lord concluded ten minutes later. He was seated, facing the dean across his desk.”You've seen my record in the bibliography, Dean Harris. I believe it's more active and impressive than that of any other assistant professor in this school. In fact, no one else comes close. I've also told you what I'm planning for the future. Putting all of it together, I believe accelerated promotion is justified and I should have it now.”

The dean placed his hands together, surveyed Dr. Lord across his fingertips and said with some amusement, "You do not appear to suffer from an underestimation of your own worth.”

"Why should IT' The answer was quick and sharp, devoid of humor. Lord's dark green eyes were fixed intensely on the dean.”I know my record as well as anyone. I also know other people around here who are doing a damn sight less than I am.”

"If you don't mind," Dean Harris said with a touch of sharpness himself, "we will leave other people out of it. Others are not the issue. The issue is you.”