Aug. 19, 2018: Convocation Address

Good evening members of our distinguished faculty and staff. And welcome, Bucknell University Class of 2022 and transfer students!

You are about to open a new chapter in your lives that I hope you will always look back upon with fondness. Your future selves will marvel at what you learned and accomplished in just four years. Many of your closest friends will be some of the strangers sitting around you now. I know the pace of the last week has been challenging and tiring. And I know you're filled with anticipation and perhaps anxiety about your first day of classes.

But I encourage you to take in this moment and reflect on the significance of our time here together, and what this milestone in your life represents. The opportunities and experiences of the next four years will quite literally shape your life. You will evolve into a better and more authentic version of yourself — prepared to make meaningful changes to the world around you through your pursuit of personal and professional success, however you define what that means. Moments that hold such influence over our lives are rare —

Seventeen years ago, first-year and transfer students likely heard similar words of encouragement. Much like you, they went through orientation, survived the move-in process, and began forming those lifelong relationships with classmates and faculty and staff mentors alike. Their Fifteenth Reunion is coming sooner than they could have imagined.

They felt the same excitement as you … The same anxieties … The same sense of wonder.

Like you, they were experiencing a special time in their lives. They were simultaneously pondering their long-term futures while addressing more immediate concerns — How do I get to class? Will I get along with my roommate? How hard will all this be?

Tragically though, after only a few weeks into their time as Bucknellians, our nation suffered a shattering disaster. Four hijacked jet airliners crashed into the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and a quiet Pennsylvania field.

And the world came to a stop.

That may sound like a cliché, but there are few moments in history when that phrase is more appropriate. I recall what my campus was like in California, where I was at the time, and I imagine it was much the same at Bucknell and colleges and universities across the country. The gyms were empty. There was no loud music playing in the residence halls … no excited chatter about the first few weeks of classes in the dining areas. For a while it seemed the only sounds that cut through the somber updates from the network news anchors were of crying and consoling.

In the aftermath of the attacks, classrooms became invaluable touchpoints for students — particularly those new to campus. You have to remember; we were much less connected in 2001. There was no YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or Snapchat. If you wanted to see someone, you literally had to meet them in-person. There was no FaceTime. There was barely any simple text texting, never mind videos or photos. Some students carried cell phones, but because of expensive cell plans and the norms of the time, it simply wasn't in our culture to be tethered to one.

In the days immediately following the attacks, classroom conversations centered on comforting each other, processing emotions, and trying to understand the latest revelations of the day — Who did it? How did they do it? Why did they do it?

As days and weeks passed though, questions about the immediate past gave way to questions about the future. Questions that would be debated and discussed by students across every academic area.

Should we sacrifice privacy for safety?

How do we lead the international community to stop future attacks?

How do we create a culture of vigilance without creating a culture of stress?

Should our infrastructure be re-imagined and re-engineered to withstand such attacks?

How will these events affect airline travel, tourism, and the overall economy?

Do these events change the ethical questions surrounding racial profiling?

Does the past offer us any insight into the complicated present?

How do we ensure the nation never forgets what happened that day?

We should note that Bucknell would come to learn that four alumni died that morning. We honor their memory with a plaque mounted on a stone in the Memorial Garden east of Rooke Chapel.

Through the horrific events of September 11, the first-year students of 2001 quickly realized that this generation — your generation — faces an unprecedented amount of uncertainty. And the questions raised by an unpredictable future will be complicated by an ever-shrinking world. In some way we are now a global community. Our challenges are interconnected and have far-reaching consequences.

Going forward, the most effective problem-solvers — the ones who are most prepared to address society's incredibly difficult and complex challenges — will be those who can think broadly … who aren't bound to siloed disciplines … who go about their work with great care and consideration of the larger world around them.

These are the types of minds we seek to develop at Bucknell. The well-rounded thinkers, the servant leaders, the inspired students who explore as deep as they do wide.

My colleagues sitting on either side of you represent the faculty and staff who will guide you along the way. In your time here, you will find them to be teachers, mentors and practitioners of the highest caliber. Learn from them. They have the extraordinary ability to prepare you to take on the unsolved problems of the world. And there are many.

The events of September 11, 2001, were among the earliest to define your generation. Over the course of your young lives, great thinkers and wondrous minds have brought about more positive achievements. Achievements that not only disrupted the status quo but permanently altered the reality in which we live.

Let's consider just two of the most profound.

In 1997, Steve Jobs determined that Apple was 90 days away from going broke. Three weeks ago, it became the first company to be valued at $1 trillion. How is that possible?

In 2007, Jobs, dressed in his trademark black turtleneck and blue jeans, walked onto the Macworld stage in San Francisco and announced three new products: a widescreen iPod with touch controls; a revolutionary mobile phone; and a breakthrough internet communications device. Of course, it was a set up to reveal that all three devices would be packaged into one — the iPhone. It was revolutionary, and it's the invention responsible for the company's historic success.

As a self-proclaimed nerd and techy — I was hooked immediately. In fact, here is my first-generation iPhone. I'd be remiss in not mentioning here that Jobs credits the beautiful design inherent in Apple products, and especially the development of the first affordable laser printer, with a calligraphy course he took at Reed College — what better could describe the benefits and application of a broad education!?!

It doesn't seem all that special now, but it was a total reimagination of its predecessors. I won't bore you with a lot of "when I was your age" stories, but I suggest you find a video of the unveiling presentation and watch how the audience reacts to every revelation.

The iPhone's genius was much more than functional upgrades. Replacing the plastic keyboard with a digital version allowed the keyboard to be customized to every application. Before the iPhone, designers could only create apps that could be controlled by a fixed set of keys. The iPhone erased those limitations.

That adaptability was critical when Apple launched the app store in 2008 and allowed third parties to create apps for the iPhone. The store launched with 500 apps. Today, there are more than 2 million.

Jobs presented the iPhone as an iPod, phone and web browser in one. Yet, even that description was an undersell. Apple had created a handheld, adaptable tool that would allow the world to crowdsource the development of solutions to problems, from the mundane to the globally relevant. Bucknell student, Jason Kang, who, as a member of the Class of 2021, sat in this audience just one year ago, is currently developing one of those solutions.

Jason, a computer science major, was still in his introductory classes when he joined a project led by his professor. Get-2-Goal is a smartphone app developed by Bucknell students that calculates the probability of surviving a type of bariatric surgery, and also helps patients who've undergone the procedure to track and achieve their weight-loss goals.

Jason and Professor Wittie are collaborating with the Geisinger Obesity Institute on the project. Jason's role is funded through a grant by the Healthcare Technology Inventors Program, a program established with a gift from Bucknell alumnus Joseph A. Ciffolillo, Class of 1961, that enables undergraduates to share in the real-time development of medical technologies.

In the first year of his time at Bucknell, Jason was working on something that will change — and even save — lives.

Now, indulge me for a moment …

If you have a phone with you, please take it out — as I'm sure you have it turned off and tucked away, out of sight. — please hold it up in the air.

This is actually a history-making moment itself. I have never encouraged students to take out their phones during an address.

Go ahead and raise them up high.

That is remarkable. From up here, it appears that nearly all of you, if not every single one of you, carries a smartphone. How many products are so universal? In your hands, you hold a portal to the world. You are connected to the vast majority of the world's recorded data — nearly all of which has been recorded in just the last few years.

More significantly, you are connected to the billions — yes billions — of people who have similar access to the connected world.

You may take your hands down. Thank you.

Regardless of your major, I challenge each of you to think about what this reality means and how we can use it to change the world because it is unprecedented. Not long ago, it was unimaginable. And as digital natives, you possess a unique level of comfort and ease with the integration of technology in your lives.

The number of innovations already creating positive change through mobile technology and the accompanying rise of global social media networks is stunning. We have seen emerging markets and marginalized populations connected to the global economy through better access to information, payment apps, and mobile banking. Those living with disabilities now have more sophisticated, inexpensive accessibility tools. Remote learning, teleworking and the gig economy are built on this technology. And families separated by geographic distance can more easily nurture familial bonds. This personally hits home as my grandchildren live in California, and my dedication to Bucknell doesn't often give me time away. But we can build and maintain our relationships through Facetime. And as a proud grand-dad, I can't tell you how grateful I am for it. Just the same, I stay in touch with my two little boys here when I am traveling, and it has made all the difference.

Of course, this rapid pace of progress has spurred a growing list of dilemmas and crises that need to be resolved.

In 2016, a Facebook group named "Heart of Texas" encouraged their hundreds of thousands of followers to attend the "Stop Islamification of Texas" rally outside an Islamic center in Houston. A separate group, "United Muslims of America," gathered their followers for the "Save Islamic Knowledge" rally at the same time, in the same location, seemingly coincidentally. When the two groups encountered each other, it grew confrontational and ugly.

As our government investigated Russia's influence in our elections, it was discovered that both of these Facebook groups were formed by Russian agents. And they orchestrated the clash between the groups with a mere $200 in Facebook advertising.

What does this say about the vulnerability of our technology?

More importantly, what does this say about the vulnerability of our thinking?

The proliferation of mobile technology also raises concerns related to the physical creation of these devices. For example, cobalt, which is a key ingredient in the rechargeable batteries in mobile phones, laptops and electric cars, is linked to dangerous, inhumane mining conditions.

Sixty percent of the world's cobalt is mined in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. And 20 percent of the mines in the DRC are so called "artisanal" mines, which is a rather pleasant-sounding descriptor for mines that operate with virtually no oversight. Approximately 150,000 people work in artisanal mines, which are plagued by collapsing shafts and unregulated contact with harmful materials. Making the situation even more barbarous are the estimated 40,000 children who contribute to the dangerous, backbreaking work, often to only get cheated out of their fair pay.

And if you are wondering which brands are mining the material ethically, a 2017 Amnesty International report found that no manufacturer is able to guarantee the source of their cobalt. Not one.

How do we solve this? Through tougher industry regulations? Developing an alternative material with the same properties? What if none exists? Do we launch a massive awareness campaign to pressure manufacturers?

What do we do?

I don't pose this question to you as an academic exercise. I pose it as a challenge. These are the problems of the world. Run toward them. Not away from them.

Another remarkable advancement of your generation that has produced questions of both promise and risk is the successful mapping of the human genome in 2003. Society-at-large does not hear enough about the Human Genome Project. Yet, it is one of humankind's greatest accomplishments.

As Dr. Francis S. Collins, former director of the National Human Genome Research Institute, described it, "I believe that reading our blueprints, cataloging our own instruction book, will be judged by history as more significant than even splitting the atom or going to the moon."

The Human Genome Project was an international collaboration. The goal was to map the structure, organization and function of every gene in the human genome sequence. And 15 years ago, we mapped them all; 20,500 in total.

The full potential of what we can do with this information is more than our time here allows. But, I'll give you an example.

Consider the possibilities for lung cancer patients. Lung cancer has long been a devastating disease. It claims more than 154,000 lives each year, more lives than any other cancer. More, in fact, than breast cancer, prostate cancer and colon cancer combined. Genomics could completely revolutionize our ability to detect and treat this terrible disease in ways that could extend and preserve millions of lives.

In part, this will be done through more precise treatment options. Until recently, lung cancer was categorized as either non-small-cell lung cancer, or small-cell lung cancer. It was a rather broad, binary classification. Doctors often treated the disease with heavy doses of chemotherapy, destroying all the body's quickly-dividing cells indiscriminately. The process resulted in dreadful side effects and was ineffective in the long-term.

Genomics has enabled us to now study tumors at the molecular level. This ability provides doctors with more precise tumor classifications. Greater precision means more targeted therapies and personalized treatment options, which lead to better results and take a lesser toll on the body.

Researchers are finding similar potential in other areas of oncology and the entire field of medicine. Among them is alumnus Dr. David Scadden — a hematologist, oncologist and one of the world's foremost stem-cell experts. He co-founded the Harvard Stem Cell Institute. And he graduated from Bucknell in 1975 with a degree in … English. His memoirs, titled Cancerland, have just been published. That's the power of the liberal arts.

Much like the iPhone, the genomics revolution surfaces questions that challenge our ethics and values as a society. Our genetic sequence, our body's "instruction book," as Dr. Collins termed it, could be the most sensitive personal data we own. How do we keep it private? How do we keep it safe?

Do we believe employers should be allowed to induce employees to provide their genetic information?

What about those companies that collect your saliva to tell you where your ancestors came from? They are making digital records of your DNA that can be bought, sold, sent and analyzed an infinite number of times. Should that concern us? Some companies promise not to share your data with third parties, but what happens when a drug manufacturer purchases a massive stake in a DNA-testing company, as happened earlier this summer. Can they use the data then?

In some instances, DNA-testing customers volunteer to share their information for the sake of research. That amount of data can be incredibly valuable for the development of treatments and pharmaceuticals. At the same time, we have to ask ourselves, what are the implications of developing treatments based on the demographics of DNA-testing customers? Are underrepresented populations being left out? Will this cause bias in the future of precision medicine?

During your time at Bucknell, we want you to demonstrate the capacity and unyielding drive to pursue the answers to questions such as these. Questions that require an expansive perspective … that don't likely have easy solutions … and that offer us the opportunity to better our society.

The world needs creative, critical thinkers who can draw upon broad experiences and perspectives. And we are desperate for leaders who recognize the interconnectedness of the global community.

Martin Luther King, Jr. once preached this sentiment, proclaiming, "We are tied together in the single garment of destiny, caught in an inescapable network of mutuality. And whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly."

He spoke these words just days before he was assassinated on April 4, 1968; 50 years ago this year. It strikes me that just as 9/11 and these technological revolutions were defining moments in your young lives, the events of 1968 were defining moments in mine. Historian Jon Meacham described the year as, "A period of disorienting violence, of disorder, of loss, of pervasive tragedy."

Unfortunately, the events of five decades ago strongly echo in our current society. After Dr. King's death, Robert Kennedy, standing on the back of a truck, broke the news to an audience with a message that bears repeating today, "What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love and wisdom and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country … ."

"My favorite poet was Aeschylus," Robert Kennedy said, and then quoted from memory:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair, against our will,
comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.

This, too, is the power of the liberal arts.

Tragically, an assassin's bullet took Robert Kennedy from us that same year. Though your generation hasn't witnessed the assassination of leaders like King and Kennedy, racism, hate and intolerance continue to claim the lives of ordinary citizens.

"What we need in the United States is not hatred … but is love and wisdom and compassion toward one another …"

The reason Bucknell pushes you to solve these problems … the reason why I would spend our first meeting together challenging you to change the world … is because history makes it abundantly clear that the world will not change on its own.

Each of you stands on the threshold of four years dedicating yourself to learning at one of the world's finest educational institutions. You sit shoulder to shoulder with 975 of your peers who possess a diverse set of extraordinary ambitions, talents and abilities. Our faculty and staff are renowned experts in their fields and are eminently prepared to guide you. What better place or time will there be to address the threats of peril and explore the opportunities of promise?

Reflecting on 1968, I'm comforted by the fact that the year concluded with the first manned spacecraft orbiting the moon. It was one of the final benchmarks on our nation's way to carrying out John F. Kennedy's historic pledge to land a person on the moon by the end of the decade.

In the President's speech announcing that pledge, he justified pursuing these ambitions, quote, "not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win … "

Class of 2022, apply this same spirit to your time here at Bucknell and throughout your lives.

Pursue the hard problems. Accept, and embrace, the daunting challenges. Do not hold these ambitions for the future. Pledge to find a way to change the world, to make it a better place. Do well by doing good. And take it upon yourself to begin fulfilling that pledge tonight.

Thank you.