President Max Richards, who will receive an honorary Doctor of Letters from UWI next month, reflects on the role that education played in preparing him for a world that changed dramatically in his lifetime, and to be the head of state

The president was at the door to greet me. Only five minutes’ waiting time; not bad for a head of state. In his olive-green suit, which, coincidentally, matched the lime-green upholstery of a set of antique straight-backed chairs, Max Richards appeared more sprightly and agile than you would expect for a 75-year-old. His mind was just as limber. Among the files on his desk was a copy of the draft of the new constitution, as well as notes for a lecture on chemical engineering he will be giving in San Francisco. At his fingertips, he also had information on platform technologies, which he feels the country should be looking at as a core industry.

It seems a pity that a president as well-informed as him, a chemical engineer and an educator, who understands the direction that the country should take, is in a largely ceremonial role. Unfortunately, that is not about to change, he says regretfully. However, this hasn’t stopped him from using his academic training to probe important issues, like the proposed smelter in Chatham. During the World Cup qualifiers last November, he made a point of visiting an aluminum smelter in Bahrain.

The chemical engineer in him wants to see Trinidad benefiting from its natural resources, and maximizing investment opportunities. Ours was the first gas-based economy in the world, he pointed out, by using what was once considered a waste product, a key component of its manufacturing capacity. Now he wants us to go further, from being the largest exporter of ammonia and methanol, to the second stage of manufacturing ethylene and other chemicals.

In a worst-case scenario, where potential reserves don’t materialize and exploration efforts fail, our proven reserves of 20 trillion cubic feet of natural gas will last less than 15 years. “We need to move away from primary processing and into non-energy sector production.” Platform technology, such as biotechnology, ICT and nanotechnology, is where we should be.

At the same time, he is acutely aware of the social issues we must tackle. Asked about his Amerindian ancestry, he smiled. He acknowledged that he did have a bit, as well as “Chinese, African and possibly some Indian”. This was significant because 50 years down the road, “I think everyone will look like me—mixed. We will be representing all the cultures and backgrounds. I think this will be a good thing. It will mean the end of stereotyping and hopefully ethnic rivalry.”

Did he ever think a chemical engineer would end up as the president? “No, and I hope nobody else thinks of it,” he laughed. He paused for a few seconds, then, to show that it wasn’t that far-fetched a notion, recounted an anecdote. At the University of Manchester in England, one of the first universities, if not the first, to teach chemical engineering as a discipline, he was one of the first students to take the degree. One of his teachers, a founding father of chemical engineering, Frank Morton, had said, “If you are still in the discipline after 10 years, then something is seriously wrong.” The discipline was so broad, its field so diverse, that it prepared those who studied it for any occupation.

There are now 120 universities in the UK and 20 per cent of their vice chancellors are engineers.

And so it was, after working with Shell, which had earmarked him to become managing director in the future, he made the difficult decision of leaving the energy industry for academia. He took a big cut in pay to join the Faculty of Engineering. It was just getting started and he jumped at the chance to take on the challenges, and possibilities, of building it from scratch. He wasn’t married at the time, he pointed out, so money wasn’t a major concern.

He never regretted the decision. “UWI has an enviable record,” he said. In its 58 years of existence, it had established itself all over the world for its academic excellence and integrity, things not easily won in academia. And then the president confided with an air of wistfulness: “I’ve always been envious of people with UWI degrees.” With UWI still a few years of from offering a degree in petroleum and reservoir engineering, Richards had to study abroad. “In those days, there were only four schools in the UK doing it, so I had to go.” Despite being “deeply moved, honoured and flattered” to be receiving an honorary Doctorate of Letters (DLitt), he wished it were an earned degree.

Having spent more than half his working life at UWI, he was proud of the part he played as chairman of the first board of the Institute of Business, now the Arthur Lok Jack Graduate School of Business. It had survived and flourished with “not one cent from the government or the university”. The private sector’s funding was still a marvel, it being the first time it had contributed to education in a big way. As dean, he was involved in the capital expansion of the Faculty of Engineering.

He felt that the university in the developing world should be at the centre of the development project, with R&D at the core of its aims. The university should be creating “business incubators and science parks”. We needed more entrepreneurs. “When graduates leave the university, they shouldn’t be wondering where he was going to find a job, they should be employing people.”

T&T’s most important asset is our pool of highly trained people; it’s on them that development depends. But with less than 40 percent of students passing Maths and English at O’Level, and the same percentage failing to earn five O’s, the number of people who could move into higher education was severely restricted.

At the annual meeting of presidents and governors general of the Caribbean, education had been the focus. “We agreed that teaching has to become more relevant to the society. And I believe genuine efforts are being made in that direction. But in addition to turning out scientists and technologists, the university has to return to its traditional role of answering philosophical questions and doing an analysis of the social order.” He sees a worldwide movement away from economic dependence on physical natural resources towards knowledge-based industries. Finland was a good example: it had eased away from depending on its forests and rode the IT wave to platform technology through companies like cell phone manufacturer Nokia. T&T needs to follow suit.

In many ways this president adopts a progressive stance on many issues. He believes agriculture has been neglected in the country; Tobago, he pointed out, was once the bread basket of the country, is now importing almost all its produce from Trinidad. “Everyone in this country should have a kitchen garden,” he declared.

One of the first undertakings of his Committee for National Self-Discovery, which is chaired by Prof Ken Ramchand, was to set up a symposium with the Carib community in Arima, to understand the descendants of the native Trinidadians.

“Their presence and contributions have not been sufficiently recognized,” he said. “It was clear that the country has not been made sufficiently aware of their presence.” However, he stopped short of supporting the idea of giving land to Carib descendants to practise the rituals of living in the forest, and protecting it, having been handed down over the centuries. Not if it was at the expense of the rest of the nation, he said. We have to think of the whole.