Speeches & Writings

2024 State of the University Address

by Interim President Michael I. Kotlikoff

As prepared for presentation
October 18, 2024
Ithaca, New York

Thank you all for returning to Ithaca for TCAM and for your commitment to, and work for, this great university. We all know this isn’t the easiest place to get to, but as I think Odysseus said, “if it were easy to get to, it wouldn’t be Ithaca.”

Having watched so many State of the University addresses by articulate past Cornell presidents, it feels quite daunting to be up here, rather than sitting in the front row, as I have for the last nine years. But of course it is a tremendous honor to be delivering this year’s State of the University as interim president, something I certainly didn’t imagine six months ago I’d be doing now.

Hunter Rawlings, who was president of Cornell when I first arrived here, has a great story about the first big speech he made as president at the University of Iowa, to their faculty senate.

He worked hard on it, making sure it sounded sufficiently elevated and appropriate for the occasion. He thought it went over all right, and was feeling pretty good about himself until the next morning, when he stopped off in the men’s room near his office. When he went to dry his hands with the electric dryer, he noticed someone had attached a little piece of paper to the start button. It said, “Press this button for a message from the new president.”

I’ll take the lesson from whoever wrote that, and try not to spend the next half hour blowing the room full of hot air. What I hope to do instead, is to provide some historical context for the criticism universities currently face, articulate the principles that we have been applying to our current challenges, and hopefully convince you of the importance of universities and reassure you that Cornell continues to live up to its founding ideals and successfully fulfill its missions.

When I say it’s an honor to be here, I really mean it. This is a unique place that has been populated by giants and has transformed countless lives. It is also a place that can sometimes be unruly and difficult to govern. But I don’t think you can get one without the other.

It’s been about 25 years since I was recruited to bring my laboratory here, lead a new university genetics initiative, and build a new department. When I first came, I spent a few days on campus meeting people, touring facilities, and seeing a little bit of the area. And by the time I folded myself back into that little prop plane headed back to Philadelphia, I knew that Cornell was going to be home. Not just my academic home, or my professional home, but a community that would welcome me and my family.

A quarter of a century later, I can say that it was the best decision I ever made. My wife Carolyn joined the faculty and has also had a wonderful career here (please stand up, Carolyn).

At the Vet College I’m known as Dr. McD’s husband.

Our kids grew up here. Cornell and Ithaca have shaped all of us, in various ways, into who we are.

To paraphrase Carl Becker, universities don’t have souls, but they do have personalities. And there is something in the Cornell personality that appealed to me right away, and that I’ve continued to cherish—something that’s made Cornell what it is for so many generations of Cornellians. Not just a place you work or study, or a place you spend a few years of your life on your way to somewhere else—but a place that shapes who you are, and becomes part of who you are, for the rest of your life.

Cornell University was made possible by a unique moment in America’s history—one even more divided and divisive than our own. We were coming to the end of the Civil War. Our nation had narrowly survived what was almost the end of the American vision. The Morrill Act had been signed into law, and a new generation of American universities was coming into existence across the country.

Two New York State senators—Andrew White, an advocate for traditional university scholarship, and Ezra Cornell, an inventor, tinkerer, and citizen scholar—saw an opportunity.

For White, it was the chance of a lifetime to build a world-class university on a foundation of American democracy.

For Cornell, it was the philanthropic project he’d been looking for—a way “To Do the Greatest Good,” and an opportunity to influence what universities taught.

The two of them together conspired to create something new—something fundamentally democratic and useful to society.

They envisioned a university that would be utterly unlike anything that existed at the time. And one with a radical commitment to American ideals of democracy—walking the talk of those democratic ideals in ways that our founding fathers never really intended, and a lot of people thought shouldn’t be allowed. Educating men and women of all races, religions, and backgrounds together; with a free and independent faculty that could teach subjects beyond the classical curriculum, including practical studies like agriculture and engineering, that weren’t seen as university-worthy at the time.

To those of us living in the America of 2024, it might seem that the invective directed against higher education today has no equal in our country’s history.

Let me politely disabuse you of that notion.

When Andrew White introduced the bill establishing Cornell University into the state senate, it was, he wrote later, “a signal for war.”

The nonsectarian university was attacked as “godless”; Ezra Cornell’s character was assassinated in local papers across the state. The worst motives you could imagine were ascribed to both White and Cornell, sometimes by proponents of other colleges hoping to win the land-grant status and funding for themselves. The attacks didn’t stop when the university was established. One of my favorites derided Cornell as “a school where hayseeds and greasy mechanics are taught to hoe potatoes, pitch manure, and be dry nurses to steam engines.”

I guess they were hoping for something a little bit more elite and “woke.”

It is perhaps comforting that criticism of university leadership was part of the deal from the jump. Ezra and Andy got through it, and so will we.

From the vantage point of 2024, it’s easier to have some perspective on that criticism, set next to the enormous positive impact that this university has had on the world over the intervening 159 years. What we need to do today is apply that perspective to our own moment: listening to criticism where it has merit, evaluating ourselves honestly, and always being open to improvement—even as we forcefully defend the value of our institutions to individuals and society, and our bedrock principles of academic freedom and free expression.

Now, as then—there is no better way to rebuild a fractured nation, than to educate citizens to think for themselves, and live together; and to value truth, openness, and equality as cornerstones of our democracy.

From alumni and parents, the questions I hear most often, asked sometimes accusingly and sometimes inquiringly, is whether this is still what Cornell does.

Do we still value intellectual rigor and open inquiry?

Do we still challenge students to think deeply about a subject and train them to be critical thinkers?

Is Cornell still a place where students are safe, and one that honors its duty of care to every student, even when they act in ways that make us shake our heads?

My answer to them is a resounding yes!

In 1940, Carl Becker described the Cornell tradition—the tradition that has shaped the trajectory of all liberal higher education, in the United States and beyond—as a tradition of freedom and responsibility. A tradition, as he put it, that “allows a maximum of freedom, and relies confidently on the sense of personal responsibility for making good use of it.”

It is a tradition grounded in our history, and our shared values. We are and must continue to be a community that respects the right to think otherwise, and speak freely, even when that speech offends. And at the same time, a community that cherishes our shared humanity despite our differences, and appreciates how essential it is to respect the rights of others as we assert our own.

When Becker gave that speech, marking the 75th anniversary of Cornell’s founding, the circumstances of that founding had taken on a particular resonance. Democracy and the nation faced existential threats. The great European centers of knowledge and reason, including the renowned universities of Germany, had been swallowed whole by a rising tide of autocracy. Universities committed to evidence and facts, and free and vigorous public debate, were an intolerable opposing force.

To Becker, the role of universities as bulwarks against these tides was naturally front of mind. He famously described the preparation of students to enter and strengthen our democracy as a principal role of Cornell and other American universities.

Universities promote humane and rational values, he said, and educate new generations, not only for their careers, but for their lives as citizens of their nations and members of their communities: cherishing and embracing both the freedom, and the responsibility, of living as part of a democratic society, protecting common interests, and sharing common values.

But to serve that purpose, we must be committed to protecting the fundamental principles from which we derive these values. And free speech—including the right to say things that offend—is the first and perhaps the foremost of those principles.

It is the right that enabled our creation in 1865. It is the right that enables us to serve the purposes Ezra Cornell and Andrew White intended. And across our departments and schools, colleges and campuses, it is the right that enables all of our work today: the work of remarkable scholars who expand human knowledge, and share it with others; who teach the knowledge and skills, from the classical to the cutting-edge, that will help new generations contribute to and thrive in a democratic society.

Faculty like mathematician and redistricting expert Moon Duchin, who joins Cornell this year as part of our Data Science Radical Collaboration Initiative. In the spring, she’ll launch a public policy class for undergraduates that brings mathematics together with the data science of voting, helping them understand how the state sees citizens through the lens of census and voting districts.

And Neal Zaslaw, the Herbert Gussman Professor of Music Emeritus in the College of Arts and Sciences, who has just completed the work of several lifetimes—the latest, and probably final, update of the definitive catalog of Mozart’s works, first published in 1862. The 2024 Köchel catalog, which was the focus of the last three decades of Zaslaw’s career, was celebrated live in Salzburg, Austria, last month, and is a fitting capstone to the career of one of the world’s foremost authorities on Mozart.

And Nicola Dell, associate professor of information science at the Jacobs Technion-Cornell Institute at Cornell Tech, who earlier this month was awarded a 2024 MacArthur Foundation fellowship, or “genius grant.” Dell’s research focuses on designing and building novel computing systems that improve the lives of underserved populations, including survivors of intimate partner violence.

And our newly hired provost, Kavita Bala. KB will bring both new vision, and a deep knowledge of the Cornell community, to the position, and I’m delighted to have her moving in across the hall—but probably not as delighted as John Siliciano will be to be moving out.

And I need to take just a moment to thank John, for taking a break from retirement to answer the call of Cornell when I was asked to serve as interim president. He has been invaluable in helping us navigate this transition smoothly, and I am enormously grateful for his leadership, generosity, and friendship.

Our deans are the best of the best. I may be biased, having hired all of them, but I believe Cornell is blessed with the most distinguished and collaborative deans of any university in the country. This semester, we were pleased to welcome Peter Loewen, the new Harold Tanner Dean of our College of Arts and Sciences, who comes to us from the University of Toronto, where he served as Director of the Munk School of Global Affairs and Public Policy, and Distinguished Professor in Democracy in the Department of Political Science. His research centers on the future of democratic societies and the politics of technological change.

And I want to take a moment to praise our staff. I have worked side-by-side with Cornell staff for almost 25 years. In my laboratory, in my department, and throughout the university. Yes, we have come through a contentious UAW strike that tended to divide staff and set up conflict with leadership, but we settled that strike with respect for our staff, and a renewed investment in those who work in our dining rooms, our residence halls, and our buildings.

Cornell continues to attract the strongest students from around the world. Let me tell you about three.

Reid Fleishman ’25 came to Cornell with a passion for information science and engineering, and deep concern for the environment. So naturally he was bothered to see, every time he came into Toni Morrison Hall dining, disposable dishes. He asked, and was told the problem: the staff couldn’t keep up with the number of dishes they had coming through the dishroom.

His response was 100% Cornell engineer.

“Let’s see if we can fix that.”

With the blessing of dining management, he worked a couple of shifts in the dishroom, talked to students and staff, and over the course of several months and many iterations, figured out ways to make the dishroom operations more efficient.

I decided I wasn’t going to use a PowerPoint today, but if I were going to use one picture, it would be Reid grinning like crazy next to a stack of real dishes the first day Morrison Dining brought them back out.

Gaby Markle ’26 came to Cornell knowing she wanted to study chemistry, but not what she wanted to do with it. Having had Type 1 diabetes since age four, she knew about the work of Dr. Minglin Ma, professor of biological and environmental engineering in CALS, on cell replacement therapies for Type I diabetes. So as soon as she got here, she went to see if she could get involved—and he put her on a project in his lab, working toward the goal of an under-the-skin device that can automatically detect blood sugar level and release insulin in response. “When I got involved in research,” she said, “it was like a spark really ignited in me. I finally knew what I wanted to do in terms of my career. You’re able to contribute to something that means a lot to you.”

Another Cornell student, Kyaw Hsan Hlaing, arrived at Cornell this semester to begin a PhD in political science with the support of a Paul and Daisy Soros Fellowship for New Americans. Born in rural Myanmar, Kyaw-Hsan studied by candlelight, and became the first person in his family to graduate from high school—but poverty forced him to drop out of college. After a year working as a migrant laborer in China, he returned to Myanmar and began writing—about the armed rebellion in western Myanmar, human rights violations, and democratic movements—until he was forced to flee. He was granted political asylum in the U.S., finished his bachelor’s degree last spring, and plans to focus his doctoral studies at Cornell on political regimes, violence, and transitions, particularly in fragile states.

A democratic and meritocratic system of education is central to the Jeffersonian ideals of democracy this country is based on—a system where every student has the same opportunities to thrive, regardless of their background and resources; and where success is determined not by luck of birth, but by talent and effort. It’s an aspiration we haven’t always lived up to as a nation, but it is a founding commitment for us at Cornell.

When Ezra Cornell said, “any person,” he meant it. We continue to commit to covering the full financial need of all Cornell undergraduates, with over $400 million dedicated to financial aid for this fiscal year. We should all be enormously proud that Cornell educates more students on Pell grants and more students on financial aid than any other Ivy League university.

Nearly half of Cornell’s undergraduates—around 7,800 students—now receive Cornell grants, which do not need to be repaid. We’re able to do this thanks to our alumni, who have responded with such tremendous generosity to our campaign—enabling us to raise a total of $420 million toward our $500 million goal for undergraduate affordability.

And, in collaboration with 13 academic units, eCornell has expanded the reach of our university to over 150,000 non-traditional students around the world, with over 240 online certificate programs, a portfolio of executive education programs, and support for eight professional degree programs delivered primarily online. Adult learners from all 50 states and 180 countries can pursue programs designed by our faculty in areas from Beekeeping to Generative AI.

And over the past year, eCornell has also supported social impact programs, reaching over 55,000 underserved individuals: including women in Afghanistan, global refugees, and students in Title 1 high schools who gain high school and college credit through synchronous, online courses taught by Cornell faculty in partnership with teachers at under-resourced high schools around the country.

Across our schools, colleges, and campuses, Cornell is a place of low walls and high ambitions, a uniquely collaborative environment that brings theoretical and practical knowledge together across multiple disciplines to address and solve complex challenges.

I won’t say there aren’t any silos at Cornell. But ours are up at the Vet College, and they’re full of silage.

We are home to 230 interdisciplinary centers, institutes, programs, and labs, with impact across the state and nation, and around the world—leading to hundreds of patents each year, and research and innovation that powers our society. These centers bring together students, faculty, and staff from across and beyond Cornell, from an incredible range of fields and backgrounds, to work together on research that matters.

For example, the Animal Health Diagnostic Center, which enabled Cornell to safely resume in-person instruction in the fall of 2020, and is now leading the state’s agricultural testing for highly pathogenic avian influenza—ensuring we can accurately track and monitor the spread of this concerning virus.

And the Sandra and Edward Meyer Cancer Center at Weill Cornell Medicine, whose more than 250 basic scientists, pathologists, surgeons, oncologists, radiologists, and other clinicians, collaborate with colleagues here in Ithaca and beyond to take knowledge and innovation from laboratory to clinical care, and back again.

And our Cornell Atkinson Center for Sustainability, which provides a vital hub for sustainability at Cornell, connecting our work across all of our campuses, colleges, and schools for maximum impact in critical areas of sustainability—for example, food security.

Cornell’s cross-disciplinary collaborations are helping to secure the food supplies of the future—finding new ways to stabilize threatened bee populations, and cut energy consumption in indoor agriculture systems; train doctors in Africa, veterinarians in Asia, and on and on and on. And our 2030 Project helps move research rapidly from inspiration to application.

In an era where advanced technology, particularly artificial intelligence, is making so much possible, the human qualities that machines can’t imitate—like resilience, creativity, and empathy—are more important than ever. Programs like the Einhorn Center connect our students with communities, through engaged learning opportunities that enable them to bring about positive change.

And opportunities like our Reserve Officers’ Training Corps, or ROTC, enable them to contribute in meaningful ways to our community and nation. Cornell is home to the largest ROTC cohort among Ivy Plus institutions, representing all branches of the U.S. military. And with our expanded undergraduate veteran recruitment program, Cornell has tied with the University of Chicago as the top university for veterans in the country for two years running.

The ability to think critically and strategically, to communicate clearly and negotiate disagreements, to understand the viewpoints of others and work as part of a team, are key to effective participation in civil society, and essential to learning to lead.

Understanding, as well, the complexity of systems—the many forces that interact across political conflict or historical events—is essential to developing a mature understanding of the world, approaching complex challenges with humility instead of hubris, and developing the capacity to find workable solutions.

The ongoing crisis in the Middle East has shaped events on college campuses across the country over the past year. Here at Cornell, we’ve been clear about our tradition of “freedom and responsibility” and what that means on our campus:

That we fully support the right to speak one’s mind, including expressing opposition to university or government policy. But it is not and can never be acceptable, on this campus, to exercise your rights at the expense of others’; and I’ve acted firmly and decisively when that has happened.

The freedom to pursue our goals at Cornell means the responsibility to respect others’ rights to do the same. The individual right of free expression ends where disruption of the work of our academic mission begins.

Being a Cornellian means, as well, that if you’re going to lift up your voice over an issue—you should know what you’re talking about. We’ve expanded our educational offerings on current issues, including, over the last academic year, a new lecture series, “Antisemitism and Islamophobia Examined”; and this year, a speaker series on pathways to peace in the Middle East.

Living and learning as part of a vibrant and diverse academic community is a key part of the Cornell experience for all of our students, and strengthening that community—giving air to what unites us, over what divides us—was a core priority for me as I stepped into this role. And I believe strongly that to strengthen this community, our faculty and our administration need to be visible and active members of this community.

John Siliciano and I have visited every college and every school, and convened meetings with our shared governance bodies, student groups, the Daily Sun, leaders of our Jewish and Muslim communities, and Ithaca community partners. All have involved frank conversations and open dialogue. We also held a Community Field Day in Schoellkopf last month, inviting students and families on a beautiful Sunday morning to exercise and play together, and meet our student athletes and Athletics and Student and Campus Life staff. Our community is Cornell’s secret sauce that builds the kinds of bonds that bring you back to TCAM and keep you engaged with this precious place.

Like everything else at Cornell—every part of our mission—our work and ambitions are supported at the highest level by our incredible community of alumni and friends, who experienced the impact of a Cornell education for themselves and want to support it. Thanks to all of you, and thanks especially to the leadership of President Emerita Martha Pollack, our campaign To Do the Greatest Good continues to make tremendous progress. I’m delighted to share that we’ve just passed our key milestone of $5 billion raised—18 months ahead of schedule.

To everyone who made this achievement possible: thank you, thank you, thank you.

As universities educating the future leaders of our democracy, we have a responsibility to ensure that our students go out into the world able to live in an environment of diversity with respect, and recognizing that all democracies are only as strong as the democratic values of their citizens.

I see that responsibility as a particularly central one for Cornell, with our history and our land-grant mission, and our founding vision of how a newly imagined, uniquely American kind of education could combat and counteract the forces that divide us.

It was a vision designed to foster the values and competencies that were then, and remain today, essential to innovation and creativity, and to a democratic society:

To quote John Dewey, “Democracy must be born anew in every generation and education is its midwife.”

And in a time when we do face so many challenges, as a society and a planet, it’s an even greater privilege and responsibility to be part of these institutions that we all cherish—teaching freedom and responsibility, and nurturing democracy for generations to come.

I’m enormously grateful to all of you for your commitment to Cornell, and your dedication to our mission. Thank you, all of you, for being part of this community we are all so proud to call our own.