RALEIGH - There's a common sense story that folklorists love and that herpetologists know to be scientific nonsense. It's the one about the frog and boiling water. Throw a frog into boiling water, and it'll jump out immediately. Put it in cold water, increase the heat slowly, and it'll doze off into boiled oblivion.

Why tell a froggy fable in light of the most recent contretemps over the Pope Foundation funding programs at our public universities? Because we faculty, to say nothing of administrators, can exhibit froglike behaviors. And while the herpetologist can provide us with great amphibian facts, the underfunded folklorist can provide us with wisdom for the ages. We're getting poached.

Many of us at the university have been sitting all-too-placidly in this particular pot for decades. Market forces have increasingly determined what we do, how we do it and who we do it to. And while all sorts of studies have documented the effects of, say, pharmaceutical corporations funding drug studies, those of us in the humanities have stood by forlornly, waiting to be kissed by a corporate prince.

But we in the humanities have a less obviously marketable product. So -- if I may change metaphorical kingdoms momentarily -- we tend to be wallflowers. We may be less suggestible than the sciences, but that's probably only because less lucre has been waved in front of us. We have many fewer grant opportunities, and when we apply, less chance of getting one. Few studies with any credibility demonstrate what funding does to us humanities types.

Well, the John W. Pope Center for Higher Education has done "studies" on us: women's studies programs are "sickly," freshmen composition is "moonshine" and the core curriculum is rotting like a bad apple. Public higher education has been oversold to and overfinanced by gullible taxpayers.

No one should be surprised by the Pope Center's conclusions: Given its mission and ideology, they were preordained. What might be surprising, though, is the apparent contrary devotion that the Pope Foundation has for higher education -- especially for the humanities and social sciences in public universities.

But again, there's a logic here: It's a kind of Trojan horse logic, or a stick-and-carrot strategy. First, relentlessly and inaccurately attack already impoverished humanities and social sciences programs. Also attack publicly funded higher education in every venue possible. Then turn to administrators facing more budget reversions and generously offer to fund programs and curriculum that fit your particular ideology.

The Pope Foundation has tried and succeeded with numerous versions of this -- both at UNC-Chapel Hill and at N.C. State University.

So why don't we just take Pope Foundation money and then do what we want with it? Wouldn't that be cool! Why are "some faculty" opposed to programs and curriculum based on the Pope Foundation's particular interests?

It's because we feel that the Pope Foundation, unlike many other foundations, has a mission that is directly inimical to the values of our public universities.

I'd rather not be a wallflower. I'd rather be able to pay my one talented intern, and not have to make long-distance business calls on my own cellphone. But I think we can learn from the sciences about conflicts of interest and the pitfalls of industry-sponsored research.

If numerous schools of public health and medicine across the increasingly impoverished California university system can ban tobacco research money, then perhaps we can have a conversation about what our relationship should be to foundations with profoundly anti-democratic values, values in direct opposition to the university's mission. While it's certainly an individual faculty member's prerogative to take money from the Pope Foundation, money that affects our curriculum and programs is different.

Is it a conflict of interest to accept money from a foundation dedicated to undermining the very concept of the land-grant university and public funding of education? I think so. Yes, it would be easier to just take the money for a course here or for chaired professorships there, and not make the complex arguments that will ensue if you look too closely at a foundation's practices. But there are always strings attached when the money comes from such a source. Even if there weren't, the money itself is the string: You fund me now, but will you still fund me tomorrow?

So what do herpetologists really have to say about a frog in hot water? If you gradually heat the water, the frog becomes more and more active and agitated. And if you haven't completely clamped a lid over the pot?

The frog will jump out.

Our tale could have an even happier ending. After all, we're not frogs. We're people. We can use our opposable thumbs to climb out of the pot and turn down the heat a bit. Wouldn't that be cool?

(Catherine Warren is president of the North Carolina chapter of the American Association of University Professors. She is an associate professor in English and director of Women's and Gender Studies at N.C. State University.)