Remembering Thomas J. C. Raymond
This morning, I discovered that Harvard's Thomas J. C. Raymond has died. For 37 years, he taught business communications at the Business School. Then his idea of retirement was to spend another 25 teaching writing at the Extension School.
For one semester in the 90's, I was a section leader (paper-grader) for his business writing class. By then he was already an old man, somewhat hard of hearing, but full of fire. While the rest of us, students and faculty included, were tired after a day of work (these were evening classes), he was wound-up and ready to go.
Harvard, as you may know, is a leading advocate of the case method -- a pedagogy based on the analysis and discussion of stories culled from real-life events. And Raymond was one of Harvard's most ardent practitioners of that method. His weapon: A penetrating intellect. His shield: A disdain for bullshit. His enemy: Pat answers.
Most lectures would follow a similar pattern. After briefly summarizing the week's case, Raymond would wheel around to face a stricken student and, his eyes unwavering in their gaze, his body leaning over the student's seat, he would ask with emphatic emphasis on each word, "What . . . would . . . you . . . do?"
Not, "Would do you think?" nor, "How do you understand this?" What would you do? As if you were the one caught in the dilemma. Within ten minutes Raymond would have swatted away all the easy answers with sharp questions and impatient waves of his hand. What would you do?
Naturally, he didn't have much patience with theory. While many at the B School worship at the altar of "efficiency," he had his doubts. "After all," Raymond would say, "the most efficient business is the one that doesn't do anything at all." He recognized that real business is conducted by real people and involves, therefore, some mess and a good helping of irrationality.
What about TQM and branding and excellence and every other business fad/model/theory/idol? For Raymond, the history of American enterprise boiled down to this: "You make something, then you sell the hell out of it."
I met Professor Raymond near the beginning of my copywriting career, for which I'm grateful. He taught me the value of straight-talk and of a healthy skepticism as inoculation against the latest business/marketing cant. While he was a tough thinker who loved to challenge students, he was immensely fair, too. He treated his Extension School students with the same regard as the more highly esteemed Business School students. He let them know they were every bit as good and had equal odds for success. Perhaps even a bit more.
Blessings to Professor Raymond and every comfort to his family and friends.
For one semester in the 90's, I was a section leader (paper-grader) for his business writing class. By then he was already an old man, somewhat hard of hearing, but full of fire. While the rest of us, students and faculty included, were tired after a day of work (these were evening classes), he was wound-up and ready to go.
Harvard, as you may know, is a leading advocate of the case method -- a pedagogy based on the analysis and discussion of stories culled from real-life events. And Raymond was one of Harvard's most ardent practitioners of that method. His weapon: A penetrating intellect. His shield: A disdain for bullshit. His enemy: Pat answers.
Most lectures would follow a similar pattern. After briefly summarizing the week's case, Raymond would wheel around to face a stricken student and, his eyes unwavering in their gaze, his body leaning over the student's seat, he would ask with emphatic emphasis on each word, "What . . . would . . . you . . . do?"
Not, "Would do you think?" nor, "How do you understand this?" What would you do? As if you were the one caught in the dilemma. Within ten minutes Raymond would have swatted away all the easy answers with sharp questions and impatient waves of his hand. What would you do?
Naturally, he didn't have much patience with theory. While many at the B School worship at the altar of "efficiency," he had his doubts. "After all," Raymond would say, "the most efficient business is the one that doesn't do anything at all." He recognized that real business is conducted by real people and involves, therefore, some mess and a good helping of irrationality.
What about TQM and branding and excellence and every other business fad/model/theory/idol? For Raymond, the history of American enterprise boiled down to this: "You make something, then you sell the hell out of it."
I met Professor Raymond near the beginning of my copywriting career, for which I'm grateful. He taught me the value of straight-talk and of a healthy skepticism as inoculation against the latest business/marketing cant. While he was a tough thinker who loved to challenge students, he was immensely fair, too. He treated his Extension School students with the same regard as the more highly esteemed Business School students. He let them know they were every bit as good and had equal odds for success. Perhaps even a bit more.
Blessings to Professor Raymond and every comfort to his family and friends.






1 Comments:
Jonathan, what a loving portrait of your old prof. It reminded me of E.B. White's description of Will Strunk...and a little of John Houseman's portrayal of the imperious law school prof in "The Paper Chase." When I wrote the very first pamphlet/brochure for my new marketing firm, I wrote: "When you boil it down to basics, there are really only two things involved in business: you have a product or service, and you tell everyone about it." Sounds a lot like your teacher's wisdom, doesn't it?
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