Use the fields below to perform an advanced search of The Princetonian's archives. This will return articles, images, and multimedia relevant to your query. You can also try a Basic search
32 items found for your search. If no results were found please broaden your search.
Earlier this month, the University finished the Firestone Library renovation, after more than a decade of work. The Library, stocked with chic crimson chairs and new fluorescent chandeliers, now meets the demands of the 21st century. Despite such superficial changes, the University has neglected the Library’s most prominent feature — its namesake.
This month, Google and the University will open their joint artificial intelligence (AI) lab at 1 Palmer Square, mere steps from Nassau Hall. Everyone who stands to benefit from the project — Princeton professors, Google officials, even New Jersey Governor Phil Murphy — has lauded the decision. By entangling scholarship with Google’s sponsorship, however, the University has failed to protect its professors from plausible ethical dilemmas.
An iridescent blur darted and dived before me, as it cut elegant arcs across the sky. Several seconds later, I recognized the fleet form as a purple martin, Progne subis. It disappeared behind a grove of scraggly oaks, but its fellow aerial acrobats continued to carve the sky. The purple martin is just one of dozens of Neotropical migratory bird species that anyone, from career ornithologist to curious observer, may find in the Institute Woods just south of campus.
My blood ran cold as I watched the man smash his fist into his victim’s face. The other man crumpled to the floor, but the assailant continued to strike. I was terrified. This was neither a scene from an action movie nor a training simulation. It was real-life violence, unfolding before my eyes.
Are you a graduate student? The Daily Princetonian’s opinion section wants you!
In our conversations about the University’s suspension of Honor Code referenda, we have overlooked one crucial fact: The administration has offered no timetable for its internal deliberations. Although we cannot change the decision to stay the referenda, we should press administrators to establish an operable time frame to which they can be held accountable. As citizens, we would expect nothing less from our government. We should hold our University to the same standard.
In 1926, Harvey S. Firestone Sr., the millionaire founder of the Firestone Tire and Rubber Company, set his sights on an ambitious goal: to break the British and Dutch monopoly on the global rubber market. To do so, he needed his own rubber plantation, a necessarily vast operation to supply his U.S. tire factories.
“Wifi: No hardware installed.” The unwelcome message flashed across my computer screen last Thursday. After three hours of repeating the same futile steps to revive it, I decided to seek professional help. My computer spent the weekend as a guest at the Quaker Bridge Apple Store.
Like every Princeton student, I feel compunction to study almost every minute of the day. But, when I consider the millions of people who face the challenges and indignities of extreme poverty, worrying about the difference between an “A-” and “B+” seems like an unimaginable luxury.
Last week, I stunned a University librarian. I was at a training session for Zotero, a trademarked software tool that creates citations for online material and works best with Google Chrome. I confessed to her that I do not use Chrome because I worry about Google’s collection of user data. Instead, I use Firefox, a browser that many consider outdated. To limit the data I hemorrhage into the electronic world, I conduct online searches using Duck Duck Go, a search engine that neither collects nor shares user information. Flummoxed, she declared, “If you want privacy, don’t use the internet.”
On most afternoons, as I saunter back to Forbes College after class, my phone is a constant temptation. I have not checked it during my lectures and precepts, and I anticipate unread emails and waiting text messages.
I applaud the Princeton students who engage in political discourse, those who hold and advocate for their convictions. Yet, when I attended the Political Activities Fair on Sept. 11, an apparent atmosphere of discordance struck me. The students at each table jockeyed for my name and email address. To me, they seemed to embody rigid attitudes towards politics — uncompromising positions not amenable to dialogue. Each table was disparate, seemingly incompatible with its neighbors. A peer remarked to me how the pro-life and pro-choice tables were situated on opposite sides of the room.