<p>Byerly,</p>
<p>I’ve observed how adept you are when it comes to manipulating numbers or generating statistics to demonstrate a given point, so I won’t get into that conversation with you; I’m not really motivated enough to go number hunting. That said, I think my personal observations - both as a Stanford student, and as an employee of several Stanford offices, including branches of the Office of Undergraduate Admission - offer some counterpoints to your statements.</p>
<p>First, you write, “Too bad the money goes to the jockocracy, as usual.” I can’t help but think you’re missing the forest for the trees here, that your familiarity with certain athletic department figures or practices has distorted your overall idea of the University and the way it apportions funding. As Snack correctly points out, it’s almost certain this new money won’t go toward new athletic facilities or the endowment from which athletic scholarships are funded. </p>
<p>What’s more, your “as usual” quip is troublingly ambiguous. </p>
<p>Do you mean Arillaga’s donations generally fund athletics rather than academics? If that’s the case, then you’re correct-- in a sense. His contributions have helped build two major athletic facilities on campus, but it’s difficult to call this a triumph of athletics over academics, since these buildings are hardly the exclusive province of Varsity athletes. Indeed, they’re open to all students. Most of my studies were in funding-starved “fuzzy” disciplines, so far be it from me to suggest more money shouldn’t be designated for academic programs. Even so, I feel the student body benefits physically and mentally from these facilities and that they were justifiable expenses. Without adequate space for recreation and fitness, how much would students’ studies suffer? One might argue that facilities were adequate before the newest Arillaga-funded athletic center was built. It’s a valid point, although not a very strong one. Having used Stanford gyms for many years, I can say from personal experience that they’re definitely nice, but not amazing. Indeed, prior to the new addition, they were often overcrowded. They’re certainly not exceptionally lavish, like the college equivalent of the Dallas Mavericks locker room or something.</p>
<p>Now, if “as usual” applied to Stanford’s overall attitude, then you’re woefully mistaken. Hewlett, Bing, and many of the University’s other most heralded donors have contributed primarily to academic programs. Much of the remainder has been filtered into housing programs-- and if you’re familiar with the academic mission of Stanford’s Residential Education office, you know housing donations are also academic, in a sense. Factor in the Campaign for Undergraduate Education and it’s hard to seriously criticize the way Stanford distributes money. </p>
<p>You have a point when it comes to Ivy League athletes and their entirely need-based financial aid. The policy gives student-athletes greater liberty if they want to drop the “athlete” monicker. I have some friends who took advantage of this flexibility. At the same time, you paint with broad strokes, and I don’t think everything is a pefect as your picture suggests.</p>
<p>To begin, Stanford’s increasingly generous aid packages need to be considered in this ex-athlete scenario; in most cases, if someone leaves a team and loses their scholarship, they probably won’t go from paying $0 to paying $45,000. The school won’t un-admit someone who quits a team, nor will it disqualify them from financial aid consideration. Harvard makes it easier, yes, but it’s not like Stanford athletes are forced to compete.</p>
<p>Second, Stanford holds athletes to a very high standard. It would be ridiculous to claim all athletes at Stanford - or at Harvard, for that matter - are as academically qualified as their non-athletic peers-- some aren’t. But athletes routinely accomplish amazing scholastic feats, and I recall seeing published SAT averages for both the football and basketball teams that were over 1300-- not as high as the rest of the student body, but pretty high nonetheless. I think this is all pretty well-documented, so hopefully you’ll accept it as a given, since I don’t want to go looking for hard numbers. </p>
<p>Now, in the Ivy League, I assume the standard is similarly high. That said, at my high school, football players - many of whom had sub-1100 SATs - were routinely accepted at Princeton-- six of them during the four years I was there. At the same time, only one “regular student” got in, despite the fact my school offers over 20 AP courses and sends three to five students (many of whom apply unsuccessfully to Princeton) to Stanford most years. What’s more, these Princeton-acceptees generally acquired unusually generous aid packages or theretofore unheard of scholarships, even if the students came from fairly comfortable backgrounds. Most of us assumed these were the sort of “unofficial scholarships” of which DRab wrote.</p>
<p>I recognize that my high school’s small sampling doesn’t necessarily mean anything in the grand scheme. And I know that Princeton’s admissions practices might not reflect the rest of the Ivy League, let alone Harvard. Nevertheless, it at least raises the possibility that the Ivy League’s lower standards could be as troubling as Stanford’s funding decisions. That is, it suggests criticism should be applied both ways, if at all. Do you have any statistics about this? Please don’t take the question as a challenge; I’m genuinely curious.</p>
<p>This message has grown lengthy and verbose, so I’ll end it here; hopefully it provides a fuller portrait of Stanford funding and Stanford athletics than has been offered in this thread to this point.</p>