M.I.T. Versus the Inner Belt

Until last Sunday, M.I.T. maintained strict silence about the possibility that the proposed Inner Belt Highway might intrude upon the fringe of the Institute's campus. But there was plenty of speculation. "Oh, I'd guess they're disturbed," said the cautious. "Let's face it," said the more blunt, "they'll pull every string they can, including LBJ, to keep the Inner Belt out"

Last Sunday, M.I.T. showed how safe such speculation was. In a brilliant demonstration of precision public relations, James R. Killian Jr., chairman of the M.I.T. Corporation, and Julius A. Stratton, the Institute's president, put on a two-hour press conference in which they described an Inner Belt route near M.I.T. in in terms of ranging from "Catastrophe" to institute's "most serious crisis" in the last half-century.

And the press predictably gobbled it up. Both of the major morning Boston metropolitans, the Globe and Herald, ran front-page stories and supplemented them with more than a full page of additional details AEL> After all, there was not much they could do. The Inner Belt has been good copy for years; M.I.T.'s apparent fright constituted an undeniably significant story.

Answered Questions

Yet, the space devoted to M.I.T.'s position reflected more the preparation of its public relations staff than anything else. Every reporter was given the traditional press kit: there were nearly 30 pictures of M.I.T. buildings that might be damaged if the Inner Belt veered close to the Institute, in addition to long, detailed statements by Killian and an M.I.T. lawyer. The reporters had to do almost nothing--it was all there. and in many respects that was a shame, because M.I.T.'s case contained enough unanswered questions and apparent contradictions to keep a room full of reporters busy for hours.

Over and over during the press conference, Killian, who made the major presentation, emphasized how the research at M.I.T. was to the national space and defense effort. Later in the day, an M.I.T. lawyer characterized the Institute's importance in these terms:

"We all know that we live in times of mortal peril, always on the brink of devastation by those Communist powers that seek to crush us by moving ahead of us in scientific techniques. These nations seek the perfection of intricate devices, weaponry, missiles and air power. In this way they confidently expect that they will gain the mastery of space, the domination of the tides and the conquest of the atmosphere. The laboratories and research facilities which this so-called recommended route will destroy or cripple constitute a primary scientific arsenal of democracy in this gruelling struggle to maintain the balance of scientific power in the service of free man:"

So impressive was this argument: (there is, one would think, an active Communist lobby to push an Inner Belt route through M.I.T.) that it would seem M.I.T. would merely have to have a number of scientific and defense agencies put the pressure on the Federal Bureau of Public Roads to stop any Inner Belt route inimicable to the Institute. (The federal government pays 90 per cent of the cost of the highway.)

But even if it failed to block the route through pressure, the Institute might logically expect that the federal government would be willing to help relocate any destroyed laboratories. Urban renewal, and the multiple forms of scientific, defense and educational grants would presumably provide ample and flexible tools for this purpose.

But, no. After stressing M.I.T.'s importance as a place for defense and space research, Killian came right back to say that he was "skeptical" about receiving large amounts of federal aid to help with possible relocation. "The government's not going to bail us out," he said quickly and dropped the subject. The figure of $80 million damage stood and the clear impression left for the press--correct or not--was that it would have to be paid almost entirely by M.I.T.

Perhaps the most flagrant omis sion of the entire conference, however, was the matter of the land that would be needed for relocation. That would be some 28 acres, the M.I.T. officials insisted. The way they arrived at the 28-acre figure seemed slightly suspicious: it assumed that there could be absolutely no consolidation of laboratories from low-level buildings into higher buildings. In some cases, consolidation was impossible because the particular equipment was too sensitive or too bulky to be used on high floors. But this restriction was not universal, and it is not unreasonable to believe that with some astute planning, M.I.T. could significantly reduce the area required.

But, foregetting these quibbles and accepting the 28-acre claim, Killian's next statement seemed even more untenable. "We don't know where we could find that land," he said. Doesn't M.I.T. have some property in Easy Cambridge? Couldn't any of the facilities be moved outside of Cambridge? And finally, the biggest question of them all: what about the 25 acres of open athletic fields conveniently adjacent to the main campus?

Nothing was said during the entire conference about the athletic fields, and apparently no one contemplated mentioning them at all. When asked about them, President Stratton appealed: "Don't press me on that." The planning officer of M.I.T. later explained that the Institute had a very unique athletic program, and that these were the only facilities for Tech's 7000 students. The 25 acres were out of bounds for relocation. Perhaps this makes good political sense from M.I.T.'s stand-point, but one wonders how the importance of the athletic fields stacks up against the moes of the 3000-5000 people who would be displaced by the Brookline-Elm St. route.

But once again, the important thing was the impression left with the press, and that was one of clear disaster: if the Belt route came close to M.I.T., 28 acres would be needed to relocate the destroyed labs, and the land was nowhere to be found.

M.I.T.'s president and chairman of the Corporation left a variety of other points obscured. For example, they constantly referred to a large number of laboratories that would be damaged by the highway, but did not consistently indicate how many (5) would actually be destroyed. As a partial result, the Boston Globe reported the next morning that nine (or ten, depending on how you count) laboratories would be "up-rooted." The M.I.T. officials also constantly emphasized the possible disruption to experiments from vibrations, and yet their discussion was almost totally couched in generalities. One is left to wonder how serious the threat is--how many experiments will be significantly altered or thereatend--or whether M.I.T. was just waving a red flag.

The list of questions could be extended, but to do so would miss one of the major reasons why M.I.T. doesn't want the Belt Route either intruding upon or adjacent to its campus: the Institute opposes the highway both as a physical barrier to related developments (like Technology Square, and the new NASA research center) and an impediment to M.I.T.'s expansion westward. It was for this reason that M.I.T. did not differentiate between the "rail-road" route and the Portland-Albany St. route, which lies to the West and would not take a significant number of the Institute's laboratories.

In fact, what M.I.T.'s presentation did--and did very well-was to obscure the basic issues by raising fears that are either unfounded, exaggerated, or at least poorly explained. The tone of their defense often bordered upon the demagogic, especially in a presentation at a public hearing last Sunday evening:

"[M.I.T] is a scientific arsenal of democracy. From its halls and laboratories come the knowledge and technique, the brain power and the resources which contribute to our national survival in an era where the laboratories and technicians of our enemies work sleeplessly to out-distance us in the race to harness the latent secrets of nature as tools of their supremacy.

"Hence, we respectfully request that the home community of this great national resources pause and consider carefully whether an Inner Belt route should be recommended on a basic premise which excludes from consideration the 'present and projected needs of M.I.T.'"

Who could oppose that? Being against M.I.T. was like being against Ft. Knox.

M.I.T. offered concessions, but they were hardly staggering. When the Institute volunteered, for example, to supply financial and technical aid for new housing to aid those displaced by the Inner Belt, it made a relatively small gesture. The long-term costs of this course would be far less than accepting a route anywhere near the campus.

Yet, for all the surfeit of publicity, M.I.T.'s staunch stand may prove superflous. The Brookline-Elm St. location has long been favored by the State Department of Public Works. Moreover, Cambridge seems unable to agree on any single altern. That was more than evident from public hearing last Sunday. Speaker after speaker rose, but almost no one could agree. Some refused to come themselves, declaring they opposed "any and all Belt routes through