"Intellectual powerhouse"

My favorite Ted Lowi story is when Pat Moynihan, fresh off several prestigious White House appointments, Harvard, and the UN Ambassadorship, was beaten out by Ted Lowi to head Cornell’s Government Department. Moynihan had to settle for the United States Senate.

That was Ted Lowi, the intellectual powerhouse.

Growing up, he was just Mr. Lowi to me, the engaged man with the amusing Southern growl and fierce eyes cheering on my friend, Jason, at all our track meets and soccer games. He was a constant presence, always full of encouragement and compliments for our effort, regardless of whether we won or lost (though we usually won).

At Cornell, I discovered Ted Lowi the professor and renowned political scientist. His lectures were as mesmerizing as they were educational. His charisma and capacity to make even sophomore government majors like me -- the worst breed of student ever invented -- understand his deep insights on the nature of power and the miracle of American democracy.

This stemmed from his deep love for his subject, as both an academic inquiry and as an object of a profound patriotism that he rarely openly revealed. His passion was a contagion that infects me to this day.

Ted Lowi relished personal relationships and engaging with students. He was a down-to-earth, regular guy, albeit one of scary intelligence which made joining a conversation with him an act of bravery.

You would see him on campus and local haunts, always animated and wild, ignoring whatever coffee or beverage had been served as a pretense to hold court. He would see you sneaking by, furrow his sharp eyes right into yours and, with a crook of his finger and insistent smile, command you to join him. He would pull you right in with the main question of the day, then sit back anticipating your wisdom, as if you personally possessed the insight to settle the argument once and for all.

I attended the first day of a seminar for first-year graduate students. As he reviewed the long list of books we would read, as many as three a week, I realized how out of my depth I was. Yet, Lowi never made me feel inadequate and treated us as if we were all capable of the same heights of intellectual prowess.

To my utter shock, he called me one evening. He had just read an article I had published in the Cornell Political Forum. “It’s the best damn article I have ever read,” he exclaimed in his usual state of insistent enthusiasm. I was terrified to realize he’d read it. I was a fraud and had gotten lucky.

He supervised my thesis. I turned in a piece of smelly manure. He made me rewrite the thing at a level worthy of what he knew I was capable. And that was the essential thing about him. He knew what we were capable of and he nurtured that, ever optimistic we could reach that potential. As individuals and as a nation.