Waiting for a decision that is bound to affect the course of one’s entire life, one gradually becomes callous and ultimately indifferent to the outcome. In the end, the decision itself becomes more desirable than the favorable outcome. Sadly, one ends up by preferring the most horrible predicament to the uncertainty of waiting. But these bifurcations perhaps offer the greatest opportunities for one’s own enlightenment: the nascent indifference needs only to be redirected from the outcome to the very decision. Suspended between the torments of hell and paradise one can then enjoy unencumbered the fragrance of every moment of stolen time. The greater the stakes, the better.

Addendum I (February 8, 1989)

A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted!

From Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, compiled by Paul Reps, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1971 (first published in 1957), p. 32.

Addendum II (February 19, 1989)

Lauren is her name. The strawberry’s name. Lauren!

Addendum III (May 31, 1989)

Although I have refrained from snooping around MIT to find out about the fate of my tenure case, several well-informed people hinted at the most likely outcome. On the basis of these hints, a few weeks ago I wrote the following “forecast,” which I intended to complete by adding to it the appropriate date:

John de Monchaux, Dean of the School of Architecture and Planning at MIT, told me today that the Academic Council—the forum that makes the final tenure decisions at the Institute—had decided to postpone its decision about my tenure until May 1990. The Council members expect that by the end of the next academic year they will have a better picture of my emerging field, building economics, as well as my rôle in it. By the way, this is a perfectly rational decision, albeit a rather conservative one. The Dean concluded by telling me that he was sorry that I will have to go through another year of uncertainty about my future at MIT. When he was finished, I thanked him for his concern, and I asked him for a two-year postponement, which was in full agreement with the Institute rules concerning tenure because my case had come up two years ahead of schedule. Judging from the fleeting expression on his face, the Dean was amused by my reckless request.

But the Dean has not called me yet, in spite of his promise to do so by the end of the month. The canned statement still awaits its date. The only thing that annoys me about all this is the implicit lack of concern for my wellbeing. Of course, the Dean cannot possibly know how I actually feel about my predicament, that is, what a bliss it is for me to be suspended like this.

Addendum IV (June 2, 1989)

I just returned from my meeting with the Dean and the Head of the Architecture Department, Bill Porter, whom I had known since my student days at MIT, when he was Dean of the School of Architecture and Planning. They were intimately involved in my tenure process, and they felt that I would benefit from hearing about its outcome from both of them. To wit, my “forecast” was correct: the Academic Council had decided to postpone the tenure decision until the end of the next school year.

Our meeting was very friendly, indeed. They bent over backwards to make me feel comfortable with the facts of the case. In particular, they kept repeating that my tenure decision was postponed without prejudice, that is, that my chances of getting tenure were not thereby reduced. On the contrary, they felt my chances would be much better next year, assuming that I would help them in the process. They asked me to write a paper or two clarifying my theoretical and practical contributions to building economics, but they were also prepared to do their part in strengthening my case. In fact, the two of them could do wonders by carefully marshalling all the evidence in my favor.

It was truly pleasant to learn that the Department and the School were squarely behind me. From everything I learned about my tenure process, both today and earlier, it was clear that many people around me had extended themselves to a surprising degree to make sure that the Institute would grant me tenure. With this kind of collegial support it would be difficult to imagine that my tenure case would be turned down next year.

Of course, whether or not I get tenure at MIT is ultimately of no consequence. If my work is of value, I will have no trouble either at MIT or elsewhere. My work is the only thing that counts. Happily, I am in such a wonderful state of mind that I will be able to continue my work without debilitating concern about the tenure decision.

Parenthetically, my proposal to postpone the decision by two years turned out not to be advantageous for me. First, in that case I would not get an additional year to look for another job, and thus I would have to deal with both the tenure process and job search in the same academic year. Second, this additional postponement might prejudice my case by indicating that I myself felt unsure about my academic standing. In short, there was no rational basis for asking for the second year. It goes without saying that insisting upon my proposal without a plausible rationale would be thought of as outright frivolous.

Addendum V (December 2, 1989)

Yesterday morning I called the Vice Chancellor of the University of Reading in England and told him that I would accept the professorship offer extended to me immediately after the interview on November 27, and that I would join the Department of Construction Management in September 1990. Alea jacta est. After seven years at MIT I am eager to depart in search for greener pastures. Although MIT is superb in many disciplines, that cannot be said about my own—building economics.

Addendum VI (December 12, 1989)

Now that the dust has settled, I find MIT and my abandoned dreams connected with it ever-so-slightly pathetic. With fatherly benevolence I bless the passers-by in the old corridors, as though I have reached a higher state of consciousness which they are still striving after. The dialectics of blessing and cursing.

Addendum VII (April 3, 1990)

Several days ago I returned from a three-week excursion to Australia, Thailand, and Hong Kong. At the University of Technology in Sydney I gave a keynote address at an international symposium on building economics, and I gave a talk in a building economics seminar at the University of Hong Kong. Thailand offered several days of unadulterated oblivion. Lauren joined me there, and we stayed together for the remainder of the trip. She, too, had an engagement in Hong Kong, where she has been working on two public art projects through the architectural design office of Tao Ho—a Hong Kong architect of international renown.

I learned a great deal about my new position in Reading from the change in behavior toward me of my many colleagues from the British Commonwealth, where building economics is recognized as a bona fide academic field. Overnight, I had become one of them—perhaps a collaborator, perhaps a rival. Overnight, I had been elevated to the exalted and coveted position of professor. My colleagues’ deference started me thinking about my new rôle in the academic community—about my new rights and duties alike. Most important, these duties will be almost entirely self-imposed, just as many of these rights will not be exercised in vain, if at all.

Of course, my thoughts turned to MIT immediately upon my return, and I became aware of the vast difference between my present position and the one I will soon take in Reading. To wit, here there is not a trace of that grace which I have begun associating with professorship. All is labor and toil. All is earnestness and zeal. All is short term and haste. After my enlightenment, I cannot imagine living in an environment so barren, so destitute, where rights and duties are delimited all too sharply. Even after a brief exposure to my new academic environment I have begun craving it. April, May, June, and MIT will be behind me for good.

Addendum VIII (January 3, 1991)

After four full months at the University of Reading, it is fair to say that I do not miss a single thing about MIT. Whenever it crosses my mind that I have managed to extricate myself from that place, I experience intense and unmitigated joy bordering on giddiness. There is absolutely nothing that would entice me to return to MIT or the United States. The only thing that Lauren and I miss about the United States—that is, Cambridge and Boston—is sushi. For reasons not entirely clear to me, sushi is both very expensive and very poor in London, let alone in other parts of England. In fact, there is not a single sushi bar in Reading!

Addendum IX (December 16, 1991)

It is time to reassess our move to England. The situation regarding sushi in London is rapidly changing. Since six months ago or so many Japanese restaurants have sprouted all around town. There are several reasons for this, but the most important one is that the population of Japanese businessmen is growing at a fast pace. Besides, the recent Japan Festival—bringing to the largest cities in the United Kingdom a wide assortment of cultural offerings, from Kabuki theater to Sumo wrestling—has contributed to a definite shift in taste in this country. In good time, too. The last few months Lauren and I have been going out for sushi once a fortnight at least. Although this delicacy may be somewhat better in Cambridge or Boston than in London, the difference is not worth insisting upon. Therefore, the time has come for unreserved merriment about our move.