You might know Edwin G. Burrows as the co-author, with Mike Wallace, of the Pulitzer Prize-winning Gotham: A History of New York City to 1898. Or you might know him as a member of what is arguably the most corrupt history department in the country: Burrows is Broeklundian Professor of History at Brooklyn College, scene of the recent KC Johnson scandal. More to the point, students of the KC Johnson case will remember Burrows as a key player in the school's self-serving and unethical attempt to sink Johnson's career.

As a new assistant professor in the BC history department, Johnson was initially the darling of his senior colleagues. Shortly before he came up for tenure, one of them remarked that "I can't imagine anything short of high crimes could derail KC's promotion." Philip Gallagher, the department chair, wrote in a formal review that Johnson was "exemplary," "impressive," "little short of electrifying," and that he "has helped the department to create a new definition of scholarly collegiality." That was before Johnson fell afoul of certain senior colleagues when he objected to their conduct during a hiring search. When Johnson criticized the hiring committee's discriminatory intention to hire a woman (ideally one of those rare women, in the chairman's words, "we can live with, who are not whiners from the word go or who need therapy as much as they need a job") rather than to hire the person most qualified for the job, he alienated some of his colleagues so thoroughly that they decided they did not want him around any more. Led by the department chair, they began a campaign to sink Johnson's bid for tenure and so to fire him. Since Johnson's teaching, service, and publication records were impeccable, Gallagher determined--in consultation with a college lawyer no less--to pursue Johnson for lack of collegiality, a foggy category that essentially enables a department to villify and oust people for all the wrong reasons. (Johnson has published a detailed summary of his case here.)

Burrows was a key player in the Brooklyn College history department's attempt to ruin Johnson. Once a strong supporter of Johnson, Burrows advised him in 2001 that "some of our colleagues are flat-out crazy--or so childlike in their emotional makeup as to pass for crazy. ... [one] lives on some other planet; [another] has decided that all the terrible things done to her over the years (regular promotions, a chair, awards) give her license to lie and cheat as she pleases; [another] is well meaning and earnest but a doofus; [another] has no self-censoring ability. ... [another,] as you've figured out, has no gift for dealing with people and doesn't like to commit himself. ... Even fruitcakes like [several colleagues] think that we were damn lucky to get you." But avuncular candor was replaced with stark animosity when Johnson proved not to be the parrot or the pushover he was expected to be. As Burrows wrote to Gallagher after Johnson objected to the conduct of the job search, Johnson ìbetter be prepared for the repercussions of what [he has] been up to.î

Burrows turned on Johnson after the hiring debacle. He voted against Johnson, and even wrote a letter to the President of Brooklyn College attacking Johnson's ethics and questioning his sanity. Johnson's "overwrought, unrepentant response to the chair's justifiable concerns," he wrote in reference to the unfortunate job search, "showed me that his animus against Gallagher had finally swept him past the point of no return. During the search, his mocking contempt for those who disagree with him ... had sown so much anger and indignation among his colleagues that most were not even on speaking terms with him. ... There were even moments when I wondered if he had lost touch with reality." This letter was not part of Johnson's formal personnel file. It was, instead, part of a "Shadow File" created to justify firing Johnson. It was a secret letter, solicited by an unknown member of the Kimmich administration in violation of the faculty contract. The letter opened with an extended quotation from a document in Johnsonís personnel fileóa document that Burrows neither had the right to see nor to excerpt in a private letter. Burrows, who had in the past rather uncollegially confided to Johnson that several of their colleagues were "crazy," "fruitcakes," "doofuses" who "lie and cheat" at will, was now attacking Johnson for being crazy and uncollegial.

Last spring, CUNY Chancellor Matthew Goldstein overturned Brooklyn College's decision to deny Johnson tenure, using his discretionary power to grant Johnson the tenure he clearly deserved. The discrediting of Johnson's colleagues was total and public, as this lengthy piece in The Chronicle of Higher Education and this New York Times piece make eminently clear.

One might think that in the wake of such public exposure, Burrows, along with Gallagher and the other players in Brooklyn College's malicious and damaging little game, might face some sort of official censure for their illegal and immoral activities. One would think, at the very least, that Brooklyn College administrators would be feeling rather cool toward the faculty who brought such deserved disgrace upon the school. But one would be sorely wrong to cherish any such expectations. No such punishment appears to be forthcoming. And at least one figure in this hideous academic drama is getting rewarded for it: Burrows has just been awarded the elite and sought-after post of "Distinguished Professor." On July 2, President Kimmich announced that Burrows has been named to the prestigious post, which carries with it an annual sinecure of $25,000 on top of Burrows' regular salary. Choosing Burrows over other candidates because he is, in Kimmich's words, ìa scholar of great distinction, a much-prized teacher and a valued colleague," Kimmich has made a virtue of Burrows' underhanded and two-faced conduct in the KC Johnson affair and has, by implication, announced his ongoing support for Brooklyn College faculty who abuse their power.