My Half Century At The University Of Wisconsin

A great university in turbulent times From the deluge of World War II vets on the GI bill through the 1960s radicalism that made national headlines, the University of Wisconsin's history has been a part of American history. Historians, as well as the University's hundreds of thousands of alumni, faculty, staff, and students, will welcome this fourth volume covering the University's recent past. E. David Cronon and John W. Jenkins record in lively, readable prose a period that began with the influx of returning war veterans, more than doubling the University's enrollment in a single year. They explore the dark McCarthy era of loyalty oaths and blacklists during the 1950s and detail the actions of University president E. B. Fred, who stood out among American academic leaders for his commitment to principle and fair play. The turbulent 1960s, which opened with students reporting on their summertime Freedom Ride experiences throughout the American South and ended with the Vietnam War-related bombing of Sterling Hall in 1970, are a record of how an era of idealism gave way to one characterized by angry dissent and disorder, the rise of women's liberation, flower power, black power, and student power. The history concludes with the passage of legislation creating the University of Wisconsin System of campuses in 1971--an action that followed nearly three decades of experiments, compromises, and political struggles involving several governors.

Revised andupdated through 1993, it describes how the end of the Cold War affected the United States's global role as well as suggesting what possibilities lie ahead for a restructured world-system.

Biological weapons have threatened U.S. national security since at least World War II. Historically, however, the U.S. military has neglected research, development, acquisition, and doctrine for biodefense. Following September 11 and the anthrax letters of 2001, the United States started spending billions of dollars per year on medical countermeasures and biological detection systems. But most of this funding now comes from the Department of Health and Human Services rather than the Department of Defense. Why has the U.S. military neglected biodefense and allowed civilian organizations to take the lead in defending the country against biological attacks? In American Biodefense, Frank L. Smith III addresses this puzzling and largely untold story about science, technology, and national security.Smith argues that organizational frames and stereotypes have caused both military neglect and the rise of civilian biodefense. In the armed services, influential ideas about kinetic warfare have undermined defense against biological warfare. The influence of these ideas on science and technology challenges the conventional wisdom that national security policy is driven by threats or bureaucratic interests. Given the ideas at work inside the U.S. military, Smith explains how the lessons learned from biodefense can help solve other important problems that range from radiation weapons to cyber attacks.

On a December day in 1968, DDT went on trial in Madison, Wisconsin. In Banning DDT: How Citizen Activists in Wisconsin Led the Way, Bill Berry details how the citizens, scientists, reporters, and traditional conservationists drew attention to the harmful effects of “the miracle pesticide” DDT, which was being used to control Dutch elm disease. Berry tells of the hunters and fishers, bird-watchers, and garden-club ladies like Lorrie Otto, who dropped off twenty-eight dead robins at the Bayside village offices. He tells of university professors and scientists like Joseph Hickey, a professor and researcher in the Department of Wildlife Management in at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, who, years after the fact, wept about the suppression of some of his early DDT research. And he tells of activists like Senator Gaylord Nelson and members of the state’s Citizens Natural Resources who rallied the cause. The Madison trial was one of the first for the Environmental Defense Fund. The National Audubon Society helped secure the more than $52,000 in donations that offset the environmentalists’ costs associated with the hearing. Today, virtually every reference to the history of DDT mentions the impact of Wisconsin’s battles. The six-month-long DDT hearing was one of the first chapters in citizen activism in the modern environmental era. Banning DDT is a compelling story of how citizen activism, science, and law merged in Wisconsin’s DDT battles to forge a new way to accomplish public policy. These citizen activists were motivated by the belief that we all deserve a voice on the health of the land and water that sustain us.

Three days in Madison have thoroughly modified my view on clostridial neurotoxins. While still realizing the numerous activating, modifying and protective inputs, I cannot judge the meaningfulness of the meeting impartially. Neither may the reader expect a complete summary of all presentations. Collected in this volume, they speak for themselves without requiring an arbiter. Instead I shall write down my very personal opinions as a researcher who has studied clostridial neurotoxins for nearly 25 years. Comparable conferences have been rare during this time. A comprehensive symposium 4 on C. botulinum neurotoxins has been organized at Ft. Detrick. International conferences on tetanus have been held regularly under the auspices of the Wodd Health Organization. One or maximally two days of these meetings have been devoted to tetanus toxin and its actions whereas the sponsor and the majority of the participants have been interested mainly in epidemiology, prevention and treatment of tetanus as a disease (see refs. 5,6). Some aspects of clostridial neurotoxins have been addressed in the context of bacterial toxins, in particular in the biennial European workshops. 1-3,7,8 The Madison meeting differed from the previous ones in three aspects. First, it covered both tetanus and botulinum neurotoxins. The fusion was justified because of their huge similarities in primary structure, in their mode of action and in their cellular targets. Second, the meeting was not limited to toxins but drew some lines on which modern neurobiology might proceed.

A Franciscan monk-Mexico's first historian--characterized the four decades following the Aztecs' 1521 overthrow as Mexico's "Golden Age." His intention was to praise the benign, bi-racial society that was then coming into existence. The first of three pillars for this short-lasting society featured an enlightened governing team led by ex-conquistador Hernán Cortés; the country's first bishop, Friar Juan de Zumárraga; respected lawyer and founder of missions, Vasco de Quiroga; and the first two viceroys, Antonio de Mendoza and Luis de Velazco. The second pillar were the Franciscan friars who headed up perhaps the most important religious campaign of the sixteenth century: the decades-long evangelization campaign that would be staffed by nearly a thousand mendicant monks who dedicated their lives to baptize millions of willing Mexicans. Included in this group was the champion of Indian baptism, Friar Toribio Benavente "Motolinía," as well as the leader for Indian education, Friar Pedro de Gante. The third pillar for this emerging society were the native chieftains (this work focuses on those from Cuernavaca) who partnered with the Spanish in governing and uplifting their respective communities. The recent publication of important, heretofore unknown, historical documents justifies the need for a re-examination of events and society during this important period of Mexican history.