I feel sorry for Marilee Jones. By all accounts, she is a nice lady who was sharing a valuable message.

As dean of admissions at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, she counseled prospective students to calm down and stop trying for perfection. The stress on aspirants for admission to top-level universities is incredible, and Jones co-authored the book "Less Stress, More Success," which urges parents of high achievers to dial down the pressure.

But Jones recently resigned from her job after it was discovered that she had fabricated her academic credentials when she applied for a job recruiting young women in 1979. Over the next 28 years, her intelligence and personality gained her recognition, including the MIT Excellence Award for Leading Change, and promotions. She became one of the most widely respected people in her profession.

I don't believe MIT overreacted. The college admissions system exacts heavy penalties on those who falsify their applications, and it wouldn't be right to have the process overseen by a person who falsified hers.

On the other hand, Jones succeeded in her job, despite the fact she did not have so much as a bachelor's degree. Performance should count for something, and I hope Jones can continue her work somewhere.

During my own job search over the last six months, I've often wondered if I ought not revise my own resume to withhold a bit of information. I think that the fact that I have a doctoral degree might put off nonacademic prospective employers, and I won't include it on my sheet unless I apply for a college job or unless an application specifically asks the highest level of education achieved.

The funny thing is the only reason I successfully completed my degree was because of Paddy Whannel, the chairman of the film department at Northwestern, who, like Jones, didn't have a college degree. Despite the fact I was the most disorganized and self-defeating graduate student in his charge, Paddy liked me, mostly because I had put myself through college by working in the steel mill and driving a cab. He wouldn't let me fail.

Paddy was a working-class guy, too. After high school in Scotland, he'd worked as a movie projectionist and then worked his way up through the British Film Institute to become its education director. Like Jones, he achieved success through hard work and intelligence.

The only difference is that Paddy told the truth from the beginning.

If Jones had done that, she wouldn't have had to resign.

But she probably wouldn't have been hired, either.

The opinions are solely those of the writer. He can be reached at jamgordo@iun.edu.