This article was written by Carys Williams and Gabriel Mott.
Northern Review has been in circulation for more than a century. Over time, many parts of the content, tone, and style of Northern Review have changed dramatically, as has the university itself. In this ten-part series, we explore different aspects of Northern Review’s content over time, from the 1910s to the 2010s. In the second half of this two-article premiere, we explore the 1950s at Ohio Northern.
Unlike all of the other entries in the Archive Deep Dive series, each narrative from the 1950s utilizes only one article. This is partly due to the limited availability of archive issues from this era, partly due to the strength of each of the articles we’re considering.
Northern Review maintains an internal (but not complete) archive of the digital layouts of our reporting since 2010. Earlier content exists solely in print, and is available to all students through the archives at Heterick Memorial Library. We, the authors, extend our deep thanks to Archivist Matt Francis, Rank of Associate Professor, for his technical assistance to the development of this series.
Social Values (Religious Diversity)
The most significant reflection on social values we can provide from the 1950s comes from an untitled and unauthored blurb in the December 4, 1951 issue of Northern Review. This blurb comments on statistics allegedly compiled by the “public relations department of Ohio Northern” regarding student religious preferences.
The blurb – and, assumedly, the statistics – report students belonging to 23 denominations, “more similar to that which one might expect to find in a state university rather than a church-related institution where one denomination is usually dominant.”
This is true, and the religious diversity of Ohio Northern persists today, with student organizations in recent years dedicated to many different forms of worship. The blurb ends with, “The only thing to be desired, perhaps, is a more rounded selection of chapel speakers which would reflect the various denominational elements which make up the student body.” This would turn out to be somewhat prophetic, given the very recent additions to the Thursday 11 a.m. Spiritual Hour.
Unfortunately, the blurb’s 1950s view of religion at ONU fails from there. The blurb baselessly asserts that this religious diversity is attributable to the enrollment of Ohio Northern’s “professional schools” – pharmacy and law. The blurb further falters in asserting that “[t]his does not, however, imply that our students were not necessarily ever desirous of Christian influence in education, for Ohio Northern is definitely a Christian university in character and usually makes it known as such…A student, whatever his field of study, would not have chosen Ohio Northern had he not been aware of its religious background and nature.”
There is, admittedly, some merit to this perspective. Faith is and has long been a core value of ONU. However, the most recent mission, vision, and core values for the university frame the matter as this: “We celebrate the University’s historic relationship and active affiliation with the United Methodist Church and welcome persons of all faiths by providing a supportive environment for their moral and spiritual growth” (italics ours).
Further, consider the implications of the last assertion that students “would not have chosen Ohio Northern had [they] not been aware of its religious background and nature.” This turns awareness of (and implicitly the acceptance of or even the appreciation of) ONU’s celebrated relationship with the Methodist church into a necessary condition for seeing the value of an ONU education. This is simply, demonstrably untrue. The great number of students of faiths other than Christianity who came to ONU for our outstanding academic programs (and in the university’s own words are “welcome” and “support[ed]”) are proof of that today, and similar students provided proof of that in the 1950s.
Moral Panics (Curfew)
In theory, the friction of social values at Ohio Northern during the 1950s is very well represented by Northern Review’s column “The Inquiring Polar Bear.” The purpose of the column was that “certain current questions are aired and a cross-section of the student body is given a chance to say just what they think (if it is clean, that is).” In premise, the attention paid to the opinion of other students – and the concern for “clean” language – resembles the social values reported on during the 1910s and 1920s.
The inaugural issue of this column ran on October 2, 1951 with the question, “What is your opinion of the new eight o’clock hours at the women’s dormitory?” This is a fitting first question; it concerns the equality of women and the nature of gender roles which previous reporting at Northern Review reveals to be personally significant to many students.
Ten responses were reported (there absolutely were not ten responses; more on this later). Of these, two were supportive of the curfew, five were critical of the curfew, and three provided unclear responses. While the tone in many of the responses can reasonably be assessed as an overreaction, by far the greatest evidence of a moral panic comes from the following comment, attributed to a senior student in pharmacy:
“It’s things like this that lead to Communism. After all, how is a girl expected to grow up having to be home by eight? Besides, she probably had a midnight curfew when she was in high school.”
This is the epitomic moral panic. To be exceptionally clear, that is not to say that strong opposition to communism, or even fear of communism, constitutes a moral panic; rather, the implicit causal link between communism and the standards of conduct at a privately owned university with no relation whatsoever to the economy or government policy is the moral panic.
Here, we need to make a disclosure. One of the authors believes this entire column may be satire (we said there weren’t really ten responses). The most obvious tell is the comment of Ernest: “Woof.” Ernest is identified as “the dog that keeps running up and down the aisles in chapel[], junior in liberal arts.” This may, of course, be nothing more than the insertion of an obvious joke to lighten the mood. The author agrees no reasonable reader would believe the staff of Northern Review is trying to pass this dog’s comment as news. But other reported students provide highly unusual comments: one complains about jealousy over the neighbor’s young child having a later curfew, and another indicates they plan to transfer to a university with lower tuition. These comments read more like rhetorical tools than direct responses to a plainly worded question.
The charge of satire is weakened, however, by the existence of more mundane and apparently sincere comments, such as this comment attributed to a senior student in liberal arts: “I think that eight o’clocks aren’t so bad for freshman girls, but it seems a little unfair to the sophomores and juniors to be in so early.”
It’s possible that whoever is behind this article, if it was satire, felt the comedic tension would be most effective by including a few grounded respondents, even though the “straight man” dynamic in comedy usually requires interacting with the funny parts of the scene. Or else maybe the author simply ran out of funny ideas.
Ultimately, the ambiguity about the authenticity of the article is almost irrelevant. It would always be irresponsible for Northern Review to run satire, comedy, or promotion in a manner presented as news. Assuming the article is fake, the lack of disclosure and the plausible deniability-born realism betray the audience. Assuming the article is real, the inclusion of fabricated quotes for the sake of humor is highly inappropriate. Either way, the presence of Ernest the dog discredits the beliefs of the senior in liberal arts and confuses how the audience should interpret the pharmacy student’s alarm on communism. Indeed, a moral panic takes form.
Oddities (Uncle Brumley)
For this era’s “Oddity” of Northern Review, we want to share an informal obituary of “Uncle Brumley,” a beloved figure of 1950s Ohio Northern (published May 20, 1953).
“Uncle Brumley” was the pseudonym of a Northern Review columnist who was also a continuing education student in the College of Pharmacy. He is reported by NR as being on track to graduate the same semester he died.
Brumley’s eponymous column provided advice to students who submitted questions to Northern Review in advance. The obituary describes his work as this: “This kindly old gentleman has lent a helping hand to thousands of troubled people, his advice always being sound and excellent.”
Brumley’s column provided a refreshing contrast to the ocean of untitled, unauthored news goo which permeated much of Northern Review during this era, making baseless assertions and feeling indignant towards the existence of citable sources. In this sense, he was very ahead of his time.
“So ends the saga of Uncle Brumley, well-known sage and dear to the hearts of many. The Upsets, the Chagrined, the love-lorns and the Mystifieds will be left without counsel and guidance yes, [sic] indeed his loss will be deeply felt and mourned by readers of the Northern Review. May he rest in peace.”
Conclusion
During the 1950s, a few pieces of what makes Ohio Northern University, Ohio Northern University came out. We saw serious consideration of the unusual religious diversity for a small, private, church-affiliated university in the 1950s. Even if some of the writer’s conclusions were wrong, this coverage was telling for what the future holds. The same is true of Uncle Brumley, who provided one of the most innovative pieces of content to date for Northern Review, acting not on the baseless assertion and mindless gossip of previous eras, but on the respect and care for the student body which would come to characterize Northern Review and ONU alike. By contrast, The Inquiring Polar Bear represents the last enterprise of casual cynicism and carelessness of either Northern Review or of the student body itself (or, quite plausibly, of both). Unfortunately, although Northern Review’s standards may improve, progress within the university stagnates during the 1960s.