An Odyssey to Excellence

(First of two parts)

When first approached to be your commencement speaker, my first impulse was outright rejection because of my commitments and because I felt that I do not hold a high enough position to merit the honor. I declared that commencement speakers were usually chosen from among high government officials, heads of large corporations, or outstanding UP alumni, none of which I am. I asked for some time to think about it, but I soon received a call from our Chancellor which was to convince me to accept. Among the considerations he mentioned was for me to share with you my experience with the Marine Science Institute, which, to paraphrase him, "from a small beginning developed into something great, a center of excellence which can serve as an inspiration for young people. Being world-class is a reality in MSI, not just a notion." Hence, I will take you on "An Odyssey to Excellence," a journey of some 30 years in about 15 minutes.

The baccalaureate graduates were not yet born in 1974 when the journey started. Resulting from a turf controversy between two campuses, a committee was formed under then President S. P. Lopez to resolve the issue of where and under whose jurisdiction should a marine science unit be established. The committee had just completed a two-page charter for a "Marine Sciences Center" for approval by the Board of Regents when, fortuitously, I came looking for a job. As a naive Ph.D. fresh from the Scripps Institution of Oceanography in California, I got the job to make those two sheets of paper into a reality.

The early years (1974-1980). No room, much less a building, came with those two sheets, not even a stick of furniture. Initially working from my desk as a new Assistant Professor in Marine Biology at the then College of Arts and Sciences, I set about the task of looking for available space. Because there was none at Palma Hall or in any of its pavilions, I was directed to the then Natural Sciences Research Center, which also turned out to be full, but where I was told I could wait for a social science project to be completed so that the vacated room could house the administrative office of the new MSC, as the Marine Science Institute was then known. Securing that room was no piece of cake, as it involved a skirmish with the incumbent social scientist who reluctantly vacated the natural science facility. It then took months to obtain furniture for an empty room because all that the UP could provide after an appeal to the president were one desk and one chair.

But what good was an office for a research center if there was no laboratory space? I had to yield my laboratory room as a faculty member of the CAS to the first recruits, two young ladies who started research on seaweed chemistry. But that gesture was well rewarded because within a few years, the two researchers managed to obtain a grant from the Ministry of Natural Resources that included the construction of what is now the Seaweed Chemistry Building. The next mode was to convince regular faculty members of university units to do research with us, by providing them with small research grants but requiring them to use their own laboratories since I had none to offer. This was a slow process but it allowed for their recruitment into the future Marine Science Institute. Desperate for more laboratory space, particularly for my own research, I combed the campus and consulted many people. My desperation must have been so obvious that the chairperson of the Zoology Department pointed me to an abandoned greenhouse. That out-of-the-way structure soon became the nerve center for coral reef research. From activities initiated there, the first national inventory of the coral reef resources of any country in the world emerged, a project funded by the Ministry of Natural Resources that included the construction of a small "Coral Building" (which now houses the Office of the Campus Architect). We tried to get support from the Office of the President, but the focus at that time was the creation of a new UP campus in the Visayas anchored on a flagship unit, the College of Fisheries.

From benign neglect to development focus (1981-1993). The struggling research center with a minuscule budget saw a window of opportunity when a proposal for a $20-million World Bank loan was being prepared for the development of fisheries and the new campus. With encouragement from the World Bank consultants, I approached the dean of the College of Fisheries if we could be part of the proposed development and share some of the resources. To my shock and surprise, I was told in no uncertain terms that the whole $20 million (today worth some $48 million or P2.5 billion) was only for the College of Fisheries. Hearing that message, I took my hat off and waved goodbye.

With our small budget we plodded on, never losing sight of our goal and mission. Within a few years, to our great surprise, we were being wooed with some force, to move with the rich but hapless unit. My few researchers and I sent the clear message to the president that under no circumstances would we move to the Visayas for a number of reasons that I do not have time to elaborate here. As a consequence, our reward was to be treated with benign neglect for the rest of the incumbency of the president at that time.

But the stars and the planets were in alignment for us. Come 1981, the fledgling MSC had the daunting task of hosting the Fourth International Coral Reef Symposium, a challenge that had fallen on our lap when I attended the third symposium in Miami in 1977. For within a few years of our existence, the earnest research that had started in the abandoned greenhouse had begun to be noticed by the international scientific community. By a fortunate occurrence, we planned for the conferment of a Doctor of Science degree, honoris causa, on the late Professor Francisco Nemenzo, father of our former president, an unsung Filipino hero but well-known for his pioneering studies on corals. And as chance would have it, that academic exercise happened to be the first official function of the newly appointed university president, now Sen. Edgardo Angara. After the conferment, he graciously hosted a reception at the Executive House for the international coral reef scientists who had come. What was both fortuitous and fortunate for the occasion was the lavish praise from the foreign guests for the extraordinarily well-organized symposium, something that they did not expect in a developing country.

Subsequent to that event, I had the privilege to call on the new president. When he asked me how he might help us, I told him that we needed a marine laboratory by the sea. We already had a five-hectare piece of land in Bolinao, Pangasinan but no budget to construct a laboratory. He apologized that he could not give us the money immediately but promised to put us in the infrastructure development program for the following year.

1983 saw a P2-million appropriation for a marine laboratory, but with the Aquino assassination that year and the consequent political upheaval, the proposed building shrank into a two-story box with a dozen unfurnished rooms. But again, the gods were with us. By the mid-80s, after having waited a full decade, we qualified on our second attempt for a UNDP institution development grant worth $1.3 million. This grant was more than matched by the Philippine government counterpart that allowed us to complete not just the unfinished laboratory building, but an additional eight, yes, eight other buildings, from administration to dormitories to diving locker. Even as these were being put up with extra-budgetary resources, UP president Angara instructed then College of Science Dean Roger Posadas to make the construction of our headquarters in Diliman a priority. This was a welcome surprise because in the first master plan of the College of Science Complex, there was no Marine Science Building.

Why was this happening to us? Was it because we were the first and only academic unit in the university and the country that had an all Ph.D. faculty? In 1986, when the former research unit, the MSC, was transformed into the degree-granting unit that is now the MSI, we decided that a doctoral degree was a conditio sine qua non to be a faculty member of the new institute. This was possible because virtually all those faculty members from the former Departments of Botany and Zoology who wanted to transfer to the new institute held doctoral degrees, and the young research assistants of the MSC who had gone abroad for their graduate studies began to return with their doctorates. This combination was ideal because the experienced faculty was complemented by bright young Ph.D.s eager to do research. Indeed, from day one of the institute, virtually all the faculty, old and new, had publication credits. This was and is the distinction of the MSI. The entire faculty without exception is published and publishing, giving us an international recognition unmatched by any other unit until very recently.

The time had come to inquire about being designated a National Center of Excellence under a scheme established under President Marcos a decade earlier to recognize and promote scientific achievement in the university. Hands down, the MSI qualified to be the first new scientific center of excellence in 1994.

(To be concluded)

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*Commencement speech of Edgardo D. Gomez, Ph.D., University Professor Emeritus, at the 95th General Commencement Exercises, University of the Philippines-Diliman last April 23.

Edgardo D. Gomez obtained his Ph.D. in Marine Biology from the Scripps Institute of Oceanography, University of California-San Diego. He is a NAST academician and board member of several local and international organizations on coral reef management. He has been the recipient of numerous awards for his accomplishments as science administrator, and for his pioneering work on the culture of giant clams, coral reef ecology and management.

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