Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Chronicle's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query. You can also try a Basic search
28 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
I believe it was Thomas Paine who once said, “The world is my country, all mankind are my brethren and to do good is my religion.” His words epitomize what it means to be a global citizen, and we live in a time when, far more than his own, we need to begin to live by them.
Set in 1979, J.J. Abram’s Super 8 is filled with things that some audiences will never have heard of—Walter Cronkite, The Cars and the movie’s titular device, the Super 8 camera—but others will remember these relics of bygone days with great fondness and nostalgia. Along with all its ingredients of a summer blockbuster—heart-stopping action, endearing romance, an alien spaceship—Super 8 also takes time to reflect on a period in history when things were supposedly simpler.
In a couple of weeks I will start taking a computer science course at Harvard, just a few minutes walk away from where I work at the National Bureau of Economic Research. It will be the first time my formal higher education has taken place outside of Duke. Not surprisingly, embarking on a new academic journey has brought old memories into focus.
Because it is college graduation season, it is easy to forget that much of the success youth will experience in the future is not directly linked to their higher education. Americans should take pride in the fact that they have nurtured a university system unparalleled in the number of opportunities offered to its students. But more than focusing on “the end,” they should also take time to reflect on where the educational journey begins. For better or worse, the foundations of success—or failure—are laid early in life, well before college enters into the equation. Those foundations are becoming less adequate each year.
The first thing I did when I returned home for the summer was to rifle through my mom’s purse. I quickly found what I was looking for—a long white envelope with a blue “NBER” printed on the top left corner and my first ever paycheck inside.
I have spent this past week at Stanford University attending the Forum for American/Chinese Exchange at Stanford. FACES is arguably the most prestigious of the many student conferences that have sprung up in the last decade devoted to U.S.-China relations. It is no surprise that business is a frequent topic at a conference like FACES. Not only do the United States and China have the two largest economies in the world, they also have the most dynamic. A lot of that dynamism is due to entrepreneurs.
In the coming decade, Japan will have to face the consequences of not just one, but two, tsunamis: the recent March 11 wave that devastated the Tohoku region of northeast Honshu and another that will batter its public finances and societal foundations for years to come. This other wave, dubbed the “silver tsunami,” may be more destructive than the first. It is not a natural phenomenon, but a demographic one: Japan is already the oldest country in the world, and it will continue to get older.
Last week, Japan sustained its most powerful earthquake ever. A cataclysmic one-two punch—an earth-shattering quake followed by a destructive tsunami—has destroyed the homes, cars and daily routines of hundreds of thousands of people and left the nation reeling. Lives, dreams and futures were literally washed away. The pictures are apocalyptic, the stories absolutely mind-numbing. Japan may very well develop a “Lost Generation.”
If you want to look for an example of how to hobble into the future, you need look no further than your own backyard. Chances are your governor or policymakers are staring down, sizing up and taking aim at their feet—and your future.
It would appear that the events in Egypt over the last three weeks have opened the floodgates for change in the Middle East. The world shared in all of the exhilarating highs and frustrating lows of Egypt’s rollercoaster ride to freedom, which ended—at least for now—when the long-serving President, Hosni Mubarak, ceded power last Friday. Now we wait.
Shortly after coming into office, President Obama declared that U.S.-China relations would “shape the 21st century.” We have all heard the story: In the span of only three decades, hundreds of millions of Chinese have been lifted out of poverty, and in the coming decades we should expect hundreds of millions of more to join them. China’s resurgence is truly monumental. That it will one day surpass the United States and once again assume its historical place as the world’s greatest power is almost a foregone conclusion.
This is a column about policy. Policy is inherently broad and inclusive; it is also imperfect. Much of its imperfection is derived from the political process, which we all know can be corrupt, self-serving and painfully slow. Last year a lot changed on Capitol Hill, and the consequences of those changes will play out this year. In this column I will seek to project and analyze what I call “the road ahead”: the future of policymaking in the coming months.
Next Fall, the Student Organization Finance Committee will introduce several changes to the way it allocates its funds.
Campus Council will soon throw parties to celebrate the end of one campus construction project and the beginning of another.
On his day off, Broadway talent Aaron Lazar will trade the towering steel structures of busy New York for the flower-filled lanes of Duke.
With the United States facing its largest deficit since the second World War, President Barack Obama has called on Erskine Bowles to head a national commission to tackle the country’s greatest economic burden.
The rise of Asian universities over the past several decades may present a challenge for their Western counterparts.
A small man, wearing a suit and tie and hunched over a Steinway and Sons grand piano, started his performance.
As a candidate for Young Trustee, senior Zach Perret hopes to bring new energy and a new perspective to Duke.
Juniors Cami Parrish, Lauren Deruyter and Mark Pratt are spending their third Carolina winter as residents of Krzyzewskiville. Their tent is a dark makeshift mass of tarp and strings, which can be pulled to hoist the shelter into the air to make room for the group’s 12 Cameron Crazies. On the tent’s surface are the spray-painted names of the Duke Men’s Basketball team.
