and cons . . .

Necessarily, Exec. members were given priority in replying, and Lance Robinson used the right first. An interjector had earlier read the Exec's duty—" . . . shall have power to and may do all things necessary or expedient for the fulfilment of any of the objects of the Association." The cry that the Exec. was exceeding its duty couldn't be sustained. The majority of students wanted to hear the Dean: the Exec. was aiming to please. The argument about disrepute was "footling": the responsibility lay with the arousers of publicity, whoever they were.

Chris Pottinger, succeeding, pointed out that it would be ludicrous if every time a Speaker were to be invited the Association had to express its views—which would presumably mean a special meeting. How many people would attend? On the question of policy, he was explicit—it should be, be considered, the stated policy of the Association to invite such speakers; the fact that the Dean was coming to Wellington and the fact that he was a world figure were the reasons why he had supported the motion. In no way could it be said to imply sponsorship, and in no way did it imply that the students agreed with the views to be expressed.

Vance Henderson raised a fundamental issue. The Dean, he said, had apparently succeeded to his own satisfaction in reconciling the opposing—we were told—views of Christianity and Communism. Now as this was clearly the most fundamental breach in the present world, it seemed to him vital that students should be able to hear a man who could express this synthesis, even if they did not agree with him.

Pip Piper, in a downright fashion, argued that the Executive was committed by successive special general meetings to interest in peace and therefore they had no option but to invite one whose views could be heard on that subject. The action by the Executive was certainly pot "ill-considered." It fifteen hundred students at Sydney could hear the Dean, then surely VUG should not be behind in listening.