When philanthropy becomes a transaction There is an important distinction between two seemingly similar phrases: "in recognition of" and "as a condition of." “In recognition of” expresses gratitude. “As a condition of” establishes an obligation. In philanthropy, particularly when public universities are involved, the difference is more than a matter of semantics. It goes to the heart of what it means to give, what it means to receive, and what a public institution may be expe

Fontfroide Abbey. During our journey along the Canal du Midi, we visited Fontfroide Abbey, situated in a secluded valley among the wooded hills southwest of Narbonne. Having visited several magnificent medieval churches during our travels through southern France, I thought I had developed a reasonable appreciation of medieval religious architecture. Fontfroide was different. Unlike the enormous cathedrals built to impress congregations and demonstrate ecclesiastical power, Fo

The fine line between protecting information and avoiding accountability. Confidentiality and secrecy are often used interchangeably, but they are not the same thing. Both involve withholding information, yet there is an important distinction between them. Confidentiality serves a legitimate purpose. Secrecy can serve to conceal information from those who have a legitimate interest in knowing it. The distinction becomes particularly important in institutions that claim to emb

There is a German word for a particular kind of freedom that the English language has never quite managed to capture. That word is Sturmfrei. Imagine that you are a teenager. Your parents have announced that they are going away for the weekend. The house will be yours. No supervision. No questions about where you are going, what you are doing, or when you intend to go to bed. You can turn up the music, invite your friends over, eat pizza for breakfast, and leave the dishes in

An Ancient Survivor. The Olive Tree at L’Oulibo. This magnificent, centuries-old olive tree, transplanted to the grounds of the L’Oulibo cooperative in Bize-Minervois, France, is a living testament to the extraordinary longevity and resilience of Olea europaea. Its deeply furrowed, twisted trunk and spreading roots tell a story of generations of growth, while its flourishing canopy demonstrates the remarkable ability of olive trees to survive and regenerate. An ancient tree,

An examination of transparent communication, respectful collaboration, and efficiency in the decision to rename the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine The University of California, Davis, proudly identifies shared governance as one of the foundations of its academic excellence. On its official website, the Davis Division of the Academic Senate explains that faculty, administrators and the Regents work together to fulfill the university's missions of teaching, research and

There are museums devoted to art, archaeology, history and famous people. And then, in Pézenas, there is a museum devoted to doors. That may sound rather specialized. But after wandering the narrow streets of this remarkable old town, a museum of doors begins to make perfect sense. In Pézenas, doors are not simply things through which one passes. They are part of the architecture, part of the history and, in many cases, works of art. And behind this unusual museum is an equal

During our recent journey through southern France, we visited Pézenas, a charming medieval town in the Languedoc region. Famous for its association with the playwright Molière, Pézenas is a delightful collection of narrow cobblestone streets, elegant Renaissance mansions, artisan workshops and inviting little squares. But one of my most memorable encounters in Pézenas had nothing to do with Molière. It involved a Black Madonna, an extraordinary embroidered gown, and a centuri

There are towns that preserve their history behind glass, and there are towns where history simply carries on living. Pézenas is one of the latter. Set in the Hérault department of southern France, not far from the Mediterranean and the Canal du Midi, Pézenas is a town made for wandering. Its narrow lanes twist between honey-colored stone buildings. Heavy wooden doors conceal courtyards. Wrought-iron balconies project over streets that seem scarcely wide enough for a horse an

Oscar W. Schalm. This is an original artistic likeness based on a historical photographic reference. This illustration is not a photograph. Oscar Schalm died in 1982. I never met Oscar Schalm. I arrived at UC Davis in 1978, and although I do not recall meeting him, his reputation and contributions were on display in every corner of the UC Davis Veterinary Medical Teaching Hospital. Anyone who has spent much time at the UC Davis School of Veterinary Medicine knows his name. Sc

There is something strangely revealing about the phrase climate change. It sounds almost gentle. Climate has always changed. Seasons change. Weather changes. Perhaps, somewhere in the language itself, we have made it easier to regard what is happening as gradual, distant, debatable - even optional. But the climate does not care what we call it. Climate does not vote. Climate does not watch television. Climate does not read social media. Climate has no ideology and recognizes

From elephants and chimpanzees to macaws and monarch butterflies. Did animals discover medicine long before humans did? Imagine an elephant walking through an African forest. She is surrounded by hundreds of species of plants, many of which she could eat. Yet she deliberately selects the leaves of one plant, ignores the others and carries them back to her calf. Is she simply collecting food? Or does she know something about the medicinal properties of that plant? Now imagine

Pont des Marchands, Narbonne. Two thousand years of history beneath your feet. There are cities that preserve their history in museums, and there are cities where history remains part of everyday life. Narbonne, in southern France, belongs firmly in the second category. During our visit to Narbonne, two remarkable structures caught my attention. One was an ancient Roman road, uncovered beneath the city's central square. The other was a bridge that had evolved into a street, c

In the south of France, a visit to the local market is about much more than buying food. Sometimes, it involves a former international rugby player, a megaphone, and packages of meat flying through the air. A Market with a History There is something wonderfully French about a traditional covered market. It is simultaneously a place to shop, eat, socialize, argue, gossip, drink wine, and observe humanity. Narbonne's famous covered market, Les Halles, is an excellent example. S

Three monuments, three stories, and several centuries of history. Narbonne Cathedral is an extraordinary building. Begun in 1272, it was intended to become one of the great Gothic cathedrals of France. Yet it was never completed. Its enormous choir, soaring vaults and magnificent stained-glass windows survive, but the nave was never constructed. Perhaps that is why I found the cathedral so fascinating. It is a building that tells stories not only through what was accomplished

There is something strangely compelling about an unfinished building. A ruin invites us to imagine what once stood there. An unfinished building asks a rather different question: What was supposed to be here? That question confronts you at the Cathedral of Saint-Just-et-Saint-Pasteur in Narbonne. Yet when you first enter, incompleteness is probably the last thing you notice. You notice height. Extraordinary height. Gothic columns climb almost impossibly upward toward ribbed v

Five Layers of History. A schematic, not-to-scale reconstruction of the Hill of Ensérune, showing five successive chapters of human history: the Iron Age settlement, the Roman Via Domitia, the medieval drainage works of the Étang de Montady, the seventeenth-century Canal du Midi tunnel and the nineteenth-century railway tunnel. The illustration combines features from different periods to demonstrate their historical and geographical relationships; it is not intended to repres

I recently published an essay that generated some spirited disagreement. That was precisely what I had hoped it would do. The essay was titled Greed: When is Enough Enough? https://www.ricklecouteur.com/post/greed-when-is-enough-enough-732 I write because I enjoy exploring ideas, questioning accepted wisdom, and encouraging conversations about subjects that matter to me. I do not expect everyone to agree with my opinions. Indeed, I often learn more from people who disagree w

Grand escalier du Palais des Archevêques de Narbonne. (Grand staircase of the Archbishop's Palace in Narbonne) Power is not simply something you possess. Sometimes, it is something you perform. During our visit to the Palais des Archevêques (Archbishop’s Palace) in Narbonne, Rex pointed out an extraordinary architectural detail. The staircase leading to the archbishop's private apartments had supposedly been designed so that, when the archbishop ascended in his magnificent ec

Reflections on time, opportunity, happiness, and the business of being alive. Carpe Diem. Two Latin words. Eight letters. An entire philosophy of life. I photographed these words tattooed across the back of a woman in Le Someil, France, whose brightly colored dress had slipped from her shoulders. Her hair was a striking copper red. The tattoo was black, elaborate, and unmistakable. Against the riot of color in her dress, the message seemed almost understated. Carpe Diem. Seiz