Head: Seven years in Limbo

intro: Lucio Munoz wrote one forestry thesis, then another. His research

has been described by some as cutting-edge. So why doesn't he have a Ph.D

yet?

by Daliah Merzaban

All Lucio Munoz wants is to earn his Ph.D degree.

In his townhouse at Hampton Place on the edge of campus, Munoz has two

neatly lined-up piles of folders sitting next to the couch in his living

room. They're filled with documents--letters of recommendation, e-mails,

written appeals, professional opinions. Over the fireplace are photos of

him with his daughter Leticia. In another room downstairs, more mountains

of folders are neatly piled on the floor. Munoz, 44, is anxious to talk

about them.

Directly opposite the folders is a row of three computers. He is only

using one of these. Each of the other two contain one of two Ph.D-level

theses that Munoz has written since he first came to UBC in 1993. Munoz

considers this an impressive achievement--but he has not yet been given

the opportunity to formally defend either thesis.

"The only thing I came to UBC for is my Ph.D," he says. "And the only

thing I am looking for is my Ph.D And I've been working all this time for

my Ph.D."

All this time adds up to seven years. Munoz began studying at UBC in 1993,

and since then he has been trying to obtain his Ph.D in Forestry. Along

the way, he has found himself caught in administrative and policy

loopholes that have left him and his family in limboQemotionally,

personally, and financially. After seven years of fighting the university

internally, this week Munoz will formally launch an administrative lawsuit

against UBC in a case that questions the idea of a university's service to

its students.

He will argue that he exhausted all reasonable venues at UBC to try to

obtain a degree he believes he should have been granted in 1996. He will

argue that the university failed to provide a healthy research environment

to support his thesis. Despite the fact that his research is considered

cutting-edge in some forestry circles, the university has continually

insisted that it's correct to deny him a Ph.D.

***

It's been a complicated journey from the start.

Born in El Salvador to a poor family, Munoz began university in 1973 at

the National University of El Salvador. It took him nine years to receive

his diploma in Agricultural Engineering because for half the time, the

university was closed by the army. After finally receiving his degree in

1984, Munoz worked for a land reform company. In 1986, he was offered a

scholarship to do his Master's degree in Agricultural Economics at Ohio

State University, and he accepted.

After completing his Master's, Munoz had to decide whether or not to

return to El Salvador. Because of political instability at home, he

decided to seek refugee status in Canada in 1988. He lived in Calgary and

worked for a company called Western Inventory Services. While there, he

married a Japanese woman named Tomoko Murakami in 1991, whom he'd met at

Boston University in 1986, where they were both learning English. Munoz

and his wife moved to Vancouver where Munoz hoped to obtain his Ph.D

degree at UBC. Without one, he believed he would be unable to get a job

that employed all of his skills.

Initially, he thought he and Tomoko would be able to have two children,

one year apart. Instead they had Leticia in 1993, and waited until 1998 to

have their second daughter, Lucia. Tomoko is now supporting the family on

her small office assistant's salary. Munoz thought he would receive his

Ph.D by 1996. He's still waiting.

When he thinks of all that has happened to him and his family in the seven

years since he came to UBC, he becomes overcome with emotion.

"I can take a lot of pressure, but not my family," Munoz says, in tears.

"At one point somebody told me, 'your family or your diploma?' I said,

'without family, I have nothing. And without the diploma I cannot support

my family.' I was caught in a situation where I feel there was no way

out."

***

In 1993, Munoz came to UBC and found a supervisor--Cornelius van Kooten, a

Forestry professor at UBC--who agreed to take on Munoz as a Forestry Ph.D

candidate. They agreed to a three-year program in which Munoz would spend

one year studying, the next year applying his knowledge in field work on

Vancouver Island, and the third year writing and defending his thesis.

But in January 1995, only a year into the program, Munoz discovered that

van Kooten would be going on sabbatical leave to Europe. As well, no

supervisory committee was established despite Faculty of Forestry

guidelines stipulating that a full committee must be constituted by the

end of the first year of study. It is up to the supervisor to ensure that

this happens. As well, no funding was secured to pay for Munoz's

researchQsomething which van Kooten might have assisted him with.

Munoz was left to find a new supervisor, and the full-time student paying

full-time tuition had no office or computer to use--something almost all

graduate students are provided with.

By March, Forestry Professor David Tait had agreed to be Munoz's next

supervisor. However, Tait considered Munoz's first research

proposal--developed in concert with van Kooten--to be unacceptable and

encouraged him to come up with a new research proposal. Munoz decided to

drop his first thesis, despite the fact that he had been working on it

since he left Ohio State, and van Kooten had been strongly behind it. In a

letter of support, van Kooten praised Munoz's initial proposal, but

worried about whether funding would be available to complete his research

on forest resources management. Even though his first focus was

theoretical, Munoz required funding to apply his theory and collect survey

data.

"All that time was lost," says Munoz. "By the time I withdrew that thesis

I had practically written the whole thesis. We [were] discussing the whole

thesis, not one chapter. [Van Kooten] described how good my thesis was,

how good my theory was, how I had been able to develop the whole model by

myself and that the only problem was that I couldn't get money." But

despite the mistakes that were made, Munoz adapted himself to the demands.

"At that point I was still positive," he recalls.

Within three weeks of withdrawing the first thesis, Munoz developed a

second. His new proposal centred on a rapid deforestation assessment and

planning methodology for Central America, using qualitative comparative

analysis. He says that his professors believed that his second thesis was

better than the first one.

Suddenly things began to fall into place. Within three months, Munoz had a

full committee to supervise him, he had secured funding to complete

research in Central America, and he had Tait as a supervisor.

By the Summer of 1996, Munoz was ready for his oral examination. Despite

the fact that he hadn't yet been able to apply his research in the field,

he was told by the committee that his theoretical model was strong enough

for him to start defending his thesis.

Between April and June of 1996, the committee met several times to aid

Munoz in the completion of his thesis. His Ph.D oral exam was scheduled

for June 26, 1996. Only four of the six committee members attended. Two

supported his thesis, and two opposed it. Munoz was given until October to

make revisionsQa common practice amongst graduate students.

A letter reporting on the results of the examination prepared by Antal

Kozak, the associate dean of Forestry at the time, says that Munoz "did

not show adequate depth in any specific area. He is not an economist, a

statistician, a foresterIand so on. The committee also recognised that his

proposal does not actually require that he be of any particular

discipline."

For the next few months, Munoz workedQwith the advice of Tait and

committee member Peter Boothroyd--on preparing a revised proposal. Munoz

says the two were pleased with his progress, and he says that he was

assured that the changes he made would be approved by the committee. At

this point, Munoz's world began to spin out of control.

Five days after assuring him that three members of the committee had

stated their support for his thesis, Tait informed Munoz that his

newly-revised thesis proposal was facing rejection. Tait didn't explain

any further, and to this day, Munoz doesn't know why the decision was

made. He had received e-mail after e-mail from committee members in

support of his revised thesis. He had received no indications that there

was any problems with it. And then all of a sudden, Tait was giving him

three options: to withdraw, to improve his current thesis, or to change

the entire proposal.

Munoz says the news took him by surprise. "I could not believe it. Really

I was not there," he says. "At that point, I came to think of the people

in the Faculty with little, little, little, little good faith."

When contacted by <<ital2>> the Ubyssey, Tait declined to comment due to

the legal suit is pending.

In a memo to John Mclean, acting dean of Forest Sciences, Tait indicated

that, after reviewing the first three chapters of the revised Research

Proposal, the committee "unanimously concluded that the candidate had been

unable to provide a focused Research Proposal that would lead to a

defensible thesis," and recommended that Munoz not be admitted to

Candidacy.

According to Munoz and Alma Mater Society (AMS) Policy Analyst Desmond

Rodenbour, who has been assisting Munoz, the omission of an oral

examination was the next big policy failure--Munoz had improved the same

thesis that had been one vote short of approval in the previous oral

examination.

Kenneth Craig, associate dean of Graduate Studies, suggested that Munoz

should be allowed to present and defend his revised research proposal. He

said in a letter to the committee that techniques similar to Munoz's were

successful and were being published. There was a lot of support for

Munoz's ideas.

But after the first negative assessment of his work, Munoz doubted that

the committee would provide him with a fair hearing. "It hurt me because

they appear to prefer in the Faculty of Forestry quantitatively-based

research, which is fine. [But if that were the case] they shouldn't have

taken my thesis in the first place, and that really hurt me."

Munoz spent the next months trying to find a place for his thesis in other

university faculties, such as the School of Planning or the Individual

Interdisciplinary Studies Graduate Program. He no longer trusted the

Faculty of Forestry to treat him fairly. He continued to compile research

for his thesis.

Munoz took his ideas to dozens of professors. He obtained dozens of

professional opinions of his thesis from Faculty members across campus and

from Simon Fraser University, as well as from international experts. And

many--over 30 positive responses from UBC faculty alone--saw his research

as truly cutting-edge.

"The thesis represents a superior piece of work whichIshould make a

significant contribution to the field," read one letter from SFU geography

Professor John Brohman.

"In my opinion, Mr. Munoz has produced a Ph.D level thesis on his own

combining rapid assessment techniques and qualitative comparative

research, which represents an excellent and original contribution to

knowledge," writes Daniel Selener, regional director for Latin America at

the International Institute for Rural Reconstruction in Ecador. Munoz has

many more such letters.

But because his proposal covers such a broad range of topics, his efforts

to find a new Faculty were fruitless. Munoz began to research his options

for appeal. After appealing to the Faculty of Forestry, to the Equity

Office, and to the AMS, Munoz decided to launch an academic appeal to the

UBC Senate.

"It was obvious that the Faculty of Forestry was not interested in solving

my situation, either formalising my second thesis or to name a committee,

so I asked the Dean of the Faculty of Forestry to request my

withdrawal," says Munoz.

He could not appeal until he had been formally withdrawn from Forestry. In

the ensuing academic appeal to the UBC Senate Appeals Committee in 1998,

Munoz, with the help of Rodenbour, outlined in a 23-page summary why he

should be granted his Ph.D degree. The appeal asserts that "the research

environment provided by UBC was clearly unreasonable and a violation of

the contractual agreement with Mr. Munoz."

Rodenbour outlined in detail each stage of Munoz's rigorous academic

career at UBC, which he says was "plagued with policy failures and poor

academic support." As well, Munoz asserted that he "no longer has any

trust or faith in the UBC academic structure." He says that at every level

he had fulfilled his obligations as a graduate student, and that the

procedural failures warranted a fairer solution.

"It would be unreasonable to suggest that he re-enter the system that has

created such extensive hardship and strife in his life," his appeal

continues. The remedy he sought from the Senate Academic Appeals Committee

was a Ph.D degree. That's not what he received.

***

In its response to Munoz's lengthy complaint, the Senate Committee

admitted there were procedural failures.

"You have some serious and valid criticisms of your experience at

UBC," the committee told Munoz.

"A supervising committee should have been established both to guide you in

your research and to assist you in the preparation of your thesis."

But still, the Senate Committee did not believe granting Munoz a Ph.D

would be the proper remedy. It said a "properly constituted examining

committee within the Faculty of Forestry has determined that you did not

pass the comprehensive examination and should be required to withdraw. You

did not satisfy the Senate Committee that there was anything improper or

unfair about that decision."

Rodenbour and Munoz agree with the vast majority of the Senate Committee's

decisions, but assert that Munoz did not fail the oral exam because a

second one never occurred. They believe that this wasn't allowed to happen

because Munoz was caught in a web of policy failures and intricacies, and

that the Senate Committee should have come up with alternate remedies to

the problem.

"The university has yet to provide any evidence that Lucio ever failed

anything," says Rodenbour. Munoz agrees. He has countless e-mails and

letters of support for his thesis, but has never been provided with any

firm evidence that his thesis is not defensible.

"During the past several years, no one has come to counter-argue any of my

ideas," he says. "Whenever I present something, I support the

alternative. So academically I feel very goodIIf somebody comes

academically to show me you are wrong, I would be very grateful."

Meanwhile, other international studies similar to his are being

published. Munoz says there are numerous books in his line of research. He

says companies in Latin America are demanding his work. But he must wait

for publication.

"I could have been the first," he says.

After being turned down by the Appeals Committee, Munoz could have

quit. "As anyone who has been in a position to fight the bureaucracy or to

fight for their rights against what appears to be insurmountable odds, the

tendency is to give up," says Rodenbour. "The tendency is to cut your

losses and walk away."

But that's not what Munoz chose to do. He appealed the Senate Committee's

decision to the UBC Board of Governors and to UBC President Martha

Piper. In her reply, Piper stood behind the Senate decision, asserting

that "the Senate has delegated this authority to the Committee and so it

would be inappropriate for me to intervene."

And the university still stands by the Senate's decision.

"The Senate is the superior governing body of the university," says Dennis

Pavlich, the university's lawyer. "From the university's point of view,

[the decision] is final and we think that the Senate handled the matter

very fairly."

Although Pavlich acknowledges that there were policy failures, he argues

that the Senate made a fair review.

"In substance, it was a fair process," he says. "The conclusion is

entirely defensible."

Munoz, in despair, is doubtful there will be any quick resolution. His

wife is still supporting the the family on her small salary, and Munoz has

considered leaving home, he says. He doesn't want to be a burden on her

any longer.

"She gets angry at me and she screams at me. That's fine because I

understand it's my fault. I didn't foresee what would happen to me," he

says.

The AMS and Graduate Student Society have supported Munoz from the

beginning. The AMS has devoted $3000 towards any legal expenses involved

in his case.

"Likely the one student who could have put UBC on the map for that has

been systematically destroyed by the institution for those unique and

innovative ideas," says Rodenbour, "that's a travesty of a societal level

and an academic image level for the university as well as a tragedy for an

individual student."

******

Having exhausted his options at the university level, Munoz took his case

to the BC Ombudsperson. He was appealing the Senate Committee's decision

not to grant him a Ph.D or to come up with an alternative solution.

After reviewing Munoz's case, Eileen Diersch, the ombudsman officer,

decided not to investigate his complaint, asserting that it was not

substantiated. While the Senate Committee did identify procedural

failures, she concluded in her report that these failures did not play

into the decision that Munoz should withdraw.

"The university's position was that you failed to meet the standards of

the Ph.D program in 1996 and that the university had been within its

rights to have you withdrawn," she wrote.

Pavlich says this just further confirms that the Senate Committee's

decision was appropriate.

One more stone in his path. But Munoz continues to fight.

"We had hoped that [Diersch] would be able to mediate some sort of

solution," says Rodenbour. "Lucio has never wanted anything more than to

be treated fairly, to have an opportunity to present his work, and to be

granted a Ph.D degree based on the value of his research."

This week, Rodenbour and Munoz will direct lawyer Robert Pryer to launch

an administrative lawsuit against UBC. They would like the Senate to

explore more options.

"A judge wouldn't reverse a decision. The most that could be hoped for

would be a referral back to the Senate Appeal Committee for re-evaluation,

basically to redo it," explains Pryer.

"Our argument would be that the university did not provide their side of

the deal," adds Rodenbour. "They must work with him to live up to their

end of the contract."

***

Rodenbour calls what Munoz has endured a "David and Goliath" experience.

At every stage--from failing to convene a committee to oversee Munoz's

first thesis, to failing to provide Munoz with the opportunity to defend

his second thesis, to deciding that there was no other alternative than

for Munoz to withdraw--Munoz and Rodenbour believe that UBC contravened

its obligation to provide each graduate student with a supportive research

environment.

Munoz is willing to settle out of court. He wants to be given guarantees

of unbiased judging. But, more importantly, he wants to find a job so he

can help his wife pay the bills, and buy some nice birthday gifts for his

daughters. But most of all, he wants his Ph.D

"I tell my wife I'll die, but this research will stay," he says.

"I think that this series of events should outrage students on this

campus," says Rodenbour. "It should outrage citizens of British Columbia

who are paying for this institution."

Munoz hasn't been back to El Salvador since September 9, 1986. It's been

over 13 years since he has seen his father and brother. He says his father

might die soon.

"If I had been able to get my Ph.D in 1996, the first thing I would have

done was go back to El Salvador," he says, more tears welling up in his

eyes. He also promised his wife he'd send her to Japan to visit her

family, and he'd like to keep that promise. After two hours of talking,

Munoz can only end by reiterating the point he had been making the entire

time:

"Since the first day, the only thing I want is to formalise my thesis," he

says.

Now it's up to the courts to decide whether that will be possible.

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