Exercise of Authority

Liberal fears that the new Republican Administration plans to let the states operate their schools unassisted and virtually as they please were emphatically laid to rest last week. For the job of U.S. Commissioner of Education, President Richard Nixon picked James E. Allen Jr., the tough-minded education commissioner of New York--a man who does not hesitate to wield his authority in order to bring about reforms in the schools.

In New York, the greying, 57-year-old Allen skillfully ran the state's labyrinthine school system as an independent duchy that critics and supporters alike called "the fourth branch of government." Allen, who controlled schooling from pre-kindergarten through college, raised education expenditures to 40% of the state's $5.4 billion budget and led the fight against Northern de facto segregation. There is no doubt that he plans to exercise equal influence as the nation's top educational official. In his first statement after his appointment, Allen urged "a massive attack on the education needs of the disadvantaged and the ghetto residents"; he stressed the need to involve them "in the concepts, the planning, and the design of such programs."

Double Deal. When President Kennedy offered him the same Washington assignment in 1961, Allen, a gaunt, muscular-faced West Virginian, turned it down. He had spent six years on the job in New York, and he was convinced that the best hope for improved schools lay with the states. Even though he has since changed his mind about the importance of federal influence, Allen refused President Nixon's initial offer because of his doubts about the new Administration's priorities for education. He finally accepted after he was given two posts--that of U.S. Commissioner of Education and Assistant Secretary in the Department of Health, Education and Welfare. "I had to be certain I would be able to speak for education in this Administration," he explains, "and that it was prepared to move forward and not just keep a holding operation. I got that assurance."

He intends to make the most of it. Though he prefers to settle most issues with negotiations, Allen, son of a Presbyterian minister, has shown a steely sense of mission in handing down controversial decisions. He was charged with "coddling the Communists" when he blocked a New York City teacher-loyalty campaign in the 1950s, and he was even more the target of acrimony when he ordered the integration of hostile all-white districts in 1963. But after last fall's bitter, 36-day New York City teacher strike, he was the only major participant to emerge with his reputation intact. It was Allen's plan to place a state trustee in charge of a troubled experimental district that eventually brought the long strike to its end.

For the Millennium. In Washington, Allen expects to encourage progress by prodding the states into action. "The states simply must play their part in the renaissance of education," he says. "They must release the power for innovation arid accomplishment that's bottled up in local communities." While willing to be flexible in dealing with school districts that preserve segregation, Allen insists that "when there is a violation of the law, the full force for compliance will be exercised."

Heading Allen's list of priorities are urban ghetto schools, where he feels federal funds can have the most impact. "We have built a middle-class type of education taught by middle-class teachers and run by middle-class administrators for middle-class kids," he argues. "But rarely have we provided the type of teaching that a deprived child really needs." Desegregation and better teacher training are his next big goals. "We are shooting for the millennium," he says, "the time when man respects man." The school, he says, should not be a sheltered island in the community, but rather an all-purpose facility for children and adults alike.

Allen received a measure of the magnitude of his job when President Nixon's task force on education, headed by Carnegie Corporation President Alan Pifer, presented its report urging massive federal spending of up to $1 billion a year to save city schools. Even if he can pry that kind of money out of Congress, Allen is not likely to find much agreement on just how it is to be used. But bets are that whatever his eventual budget, James Allen will wind up spending the money his way.

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