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Harvard Rule: Are Checks Balancing?

Tradition Blurs the Exact Powers Of Four College Governing Boards

By Arthur J. Langgnth

When the visiting committees of Overseers make their yearly inspections of the College, there is an understandable curiosity among the departments as to what the committees will find to criticize. The Economics Department faces these reports with a bit more equanimity, however. For years the committee studied the Economics faculty and operation carefully and for years they have arrived at the same conclusions. The Department, is, the reports run, badly planned, unbalanced toward the political left in the beliefs of its professors, and too free with leaves of absence.

And when the report is published, the Economics Department men read it, discuss it, and go ahead as they were planning to. The Overseers certainly have the power to investigate the College, but their conclusions can be adopted, ignored, or rejected. The procedures followed by the governing bodies of Harvard since the seventeenth century linger on, but the power within the College has shifted drastically over the years. What the Corporation, Overseers, Faculty, and Administration could do is quite different from what goes on in practice.

The Corporation could, for example, assert itself on educational policy, but Corporation members would be the first to admit that they are not best fitted for academic decisions. The power lies with the Corporation but there has grown such an iron tradition of non-interference that its exercise is now sharply limited. Again, on paper, the Overseers could be rigorous in their supervision of the Corporation and the Administration. But in the twentieth century, the Overseers are more la pressure group than real authorities in the College government.

The Faculty, too, while holding the final word on matters of education, have delegated the responsibilities and now serve primarily as a ratifying body.

Confidence from Watchdogs

Dean Acheson was not far from the mark when he observed, speaking of the six months when Harvard was recently without a President, "We at New Haven have, of course, followed closely the recent meetings, at Cambridge when that most touchy of maneuvers--the transmission of power in a dictatorship--was accomplished."

Let this ironic description, coined at a Harvard-Yale dinner last fall be taken too seriously, it must be stressed that the strong powers which the Administration undoubtedly possesses can be exercised only because the President and his Dean have won the confidence of their watchdog groups. Yet once there is this basic confidence, the Administration is able to battle for its programs and can generally finesse opposition.

Through the College Charters, Statutes, and rulings, runs also that fragile thread of personalities and human relationships which can keep the warp of the Corporation interwoven harmoniously with the woof of the Faculty. When this thread is snapped, as it has been occasionally, the result is revolt and hostility.

The Administration includes the President, his Provost or Dean of the Faculty, and the dean cry of University Hall. Within this framework there can be wide variation: President Lowell believed in autocratic government and his years were almost a reign. President Conant, with his frequent absences and an expanding student body, preferred to delegate authority, and he set up the positions of Administrative Vice-President and Provost. The Vice-President, Edward R. Reynolds, is charged with the administration of budgets and working with treasurer Paul Cabot on financial policy. Provost Paul H. Buck was Dean of the Faculty, with added jurisdiction over libraries and museums. President Pusey retained the Vice-Presidency and its incumbent, but the Provost's position is again Dean of the Faculty, with McGeorge Bundy in the job.

Perhaps the most telling way to show the checks and balances between the governing bodies of Harvard, and the resulting pre-eminence of the Administration, is to consider separately the Corporation, the Faculty, and the Overseers and their relation to the Administration.

Corporation

The Corporation's area of complete control is in finances; it is a small board, the President, Treasurer and five Fellows, and so can give vigorous inspection to the budgets.

The Corporation does, however, meet only once every other week, and its members all have other responsibilities. The Fellows are limited in practice, then, to accepting, amending, or rejecting those financial proposals which are submitted by others. The President, the only member who has a full-time job with the University, is also the only one who can generally form policy recommendations. There is also a strong tradition of restraint on the part of the Fellows which prevents them from often taking the initiative.

The role of the Corporation can best be seen in the way it handles the Faculty's budget. The Dean of the Faculty prepares the budget for all department, supervising the use of tuition income, interest from Faculty endowments, and the preparation of all sub-budgets. The Administrative Vice-President submits the final result to the Corporation in April. For a month or so, that group will examine all budgets pruning here and there. the only time that the Corporation has asked the Dean to revise his statement was in 1933 and the depression was responsible for this unusual interference.

The Corporation does pass on some matters other than the purely financial affairs. It has examined a proposed merger with Radcliffe, the Faculty's merger with the Faculty of Engineering, and the official calendar. But these proposals go to the Corporation because of the financial adjustments they require, as the Fellows' concern is with money and its distribution. And since the President is always present, the Administration is assured that its viewpoint will be considered. The Faculty and the Overseers will rarely see the full budget until it has been passed and published.

When the College is between Administration, the Overseers step in and achieve a bit of additional control over the Corporation. Even in these instances, however, the Overseers have little authority. For example, when the Corporation selected Eliot as their choice for President in 1869, they were required to get the consent of the Overseers. Some members of the Faculty, principally the classicists and scientists, were unalterably opposed to him, however, and influenced the Overseers to reject him. Eliot's nomination was returned to the Corporation on April 21. By May 19, the Overseers had decided to agree after all. The Corporation had merely stood firm on its choice and the Overseers, after a second refusal, finally capitulated.

Students to Financiers

The authority which the Corporation delegates to the Administration is not surprising. The President is usually a man of their unanimous choice and his views not too far afield from those of the Corporation. Puscy's stands, for example, on General Education, athletic de-emphasis, and McCarthyism at Lawrence all recommended him in the eyes of the Corporation.

The Corporation was not always so willing to stick, to its bankbooks, however. In 1650, when President Dunster obtained from the General Court the Charter, the President, Treasurer and five fellows were incorporated, and Harvard still abides by this original charter. Dunster, however, intended that the five fellows were to be paid to teach or study.

The upsetting experience of John Hancock as Treasurer of the College around the time of the Revolution spurred the Corporation into changing its own composition. Hancock had proved irresponsible, keeping sketchy and inaccurate accounts, and when relieved of his position, neglecting to return some of the College's funds to the treasury. This incident drove the Corporation into seeking financial security and John Lowell, described as a "solid man of Boston," was appointed as a fellow in 1784. No more tutors or scholars were appointed after the resignation of Caleb Garnett in 1789. In this way the character of the Corporation changed from scholarly, as first intended, to financial, and its members were no longer full-time residents of the College.

In addition to Pusey and Cabot, the current Corporation consists of Charles A. Coolidge, R. Keith Kane, Thomas S. Lamont, William L. Marbury, and Francis H. Burr, who is replacing roger I. Lee.

Faculty

Just as the Corporation wields the authority in finances, so the Faculty has been theoretically given the last word in educational policy. Here, even more than in the case of the small number of fellows, the Faculty is almost completely without initiative: they do not select their own dean and there is no formal "opposition leader" to Administrative policies.

"Educational Policy" is a catch-all term for a spectrum of activities: from academic revisions, in which the Faculty is very interested, to admissions-scholarship programs, to which there is out-right apathy on the part of the Faculty. Since the assistant, associate, and full professors number above three hundred, most of the Faculty's business is handled through committees.

The Administration not only appoints the faculty representative to most of these committees, it chairs the important once: the Committee on Educational Policy, the Admissions and Scholarships Committee, the Standing Committees, and the Administrative Board.

When Provost Buck set up CEP, he provided that it be the agency for clearing all academic proposals before they could be put on the Faculty's agenda. In addition, he was the committee's chairman.

Special committees also may be set up, as in the case of the General Education committee, when a broad revision is considered. In this instance, the Gen Ed. Committee made public its unanimous report in July, 1945, and after presentation to the Faculty in October, the suggested revisions were to be referred to the CEP.

The Provost had insisted that the report must either stand or fall, with as little tampering as possible. The Faculty, however, was for from unanimous about General Education: it had always opposed compulsory courses and the plan called also for a reduction in tutorial, which the Faculty could not approve.

Then, too, there were personal considerations. Some professors who had large introductory courses feared that Gen. Ed would mean an end to the packed lecture halls. When possible these courses were considered a part of General Education and the professors were mollified. The science departments lobbied and eventually won permission for science students to be exempted from the GE Natural Science requirement. These concessions were all handled through the CEP, where the administration could be sure that the political concessions it was making to get the program through were not altering the purposes of GE. By December, and after seven Faculty meetings, all parts of the program had passed by substantial majorities.

Faculty Apathy

The dean of the faculty must be shrewd enough to gauge when the final push of a program should be made. A premature vote could kill a program, while unending debate might result in a hopelessly amended and watered-down proposal. He waits through the discussion until he feels that the Faculty is mostly agreeable. This moment might come earlier than Administration critics expect, as this winter when the Advanced Standing proposals cleared the Faculty after only two meetings.

The attitude of the Faculty also helps to give the Administration power to put through its policies. Most members are bound up in their own teaching and research and do not become overly agitated about changes in policy. Even for meetings about academic mattes, where interest is greatest, only one-third of the Faculty ever turns up on Tuesday afternoons. Then too, there is a question of facts, and figures: when the Bender Report for augmented tutorial was presented there were many objections from the affected departments. But Faculty members find it hard to argue on the spur of the moment against men who have devoted months to researching a plan and can spout impressive figures. Administration spokesmen are often much better prepared for debate than their faculty opponents.

Strength from Money

Control of the purse-strings is undeniably one of the Dean of the Faculty's greatest powers. If he is determined to defeat a proposal, he can claim that the budget will not stand an extra strain. Or, if he favors a new plan, he will try to scrape up the money somehow. While Provost Buck was urging the Bender Plan on the Faculty, he was also arranging for $1,000,000 from the Allston Burr bequest to finance the program. It was hard for even the most dubious to argue against a profferred million dollars.

Like the CEP, the committee on Athletics is a Faculty Committee. But here the Administration has taken over even more thoroughly. In 1950, Provost Buck submitted to the Corporation a report on the state of athletics at Harvard. Buck saw three alternatives for the University: begin a recruiting plan to lure the best football players to Harvard, give up football altogether, or drawn up a schedule with weaker opponents, making each game a more even contest. Buck, of course, recommended the third proposal.

Then rebellion began in the athletics department. William Bingham, the Athletics Director, started to attack Buck's program publicly. But the Administration know how to cope with this opposition. Buck recommended the formation of a new committee, the Faculty Committee on athletics, and exercising his perogative, appointed the members to this committee. Bingham was then asked to retire as athletics Director and accept instead a "promotion" to the post of chairman of the new Faculty committee. This Committee was so well packed with men favorable to the Administration's position that there was little question of any further challenge to Buck's plan.

Just as the Administration works through University Hall, the Faculty conducts much of its routine business through department chairmen. Unlike most colleges, Harvard's chairmen are generally not the top-most men in each department. They are instead men mid-way on the academic ladder who will take on the paper work of running an office; rarely does a department chairman serve more than three or four years.

In making major decisions in department, however, the chairman has just one voice and often not the loudest one. On a question like appointments to the faculty, a vote of the department determines who will be nominated for a permanent post. Though it may appear that the "dictatorship" which Acheson spoke of becomes, in this situation, an oligarchy, the Administration keeps a firm hand on the appointment of men to the Faculty.

Faculty Uprising

At this point the "Granstein Plan" rears its mathematical head; for in 1937 there was a revolt among the Faculty which led to an entire revision of the appointment apparatus. The problem of tenure had become increasingly difficult for President Conant because his predecessor had personally decided to retain men on the Faculty who had not qualified for permanent appointments. During the depression these men were a decided strain on the budget and Conant felt he had to start trimming the payroll. He gave orders that all non-permanent appointees, with a few exceptions in each department, would have to leave the College at the end of the year in 1936.

The Economics department, however, did not understand the order and so recommended that two instructors. Sweezy and Walsh, be kept on despite the fact that they were not going to be permanent appointments. The Administration would not make an exception land the two men were notified that they would be dropped.

At this point the Faculty banded together in protest. The two instructors were both to the far left in their political leanings, so the cry of academic freedom was heard, though the matter was simply a budgetary one. Relations between Conant and some professors became increasingly strained, and resulted in an unheard-of request by the teaching staff.

One hundred and thirty-one non-permanent teaching officers asked that eight professors--and not the Administration--study the entire tenure problem and specifically make recommendations about Walsh and Sweezy. The eight men, including Professors Morison, Shapley, Schlesinger, and Felix Frankfurtor, wrote to Conant asking that he appoint a special committee as the instructors had requested and adding that if he would not, the eight would not, the eight would investigate anyway.

This is one of the few times in recent Harvard history that an important committee was neither initiated nor appointed by the Administration. And for the next two years, this committee became the real force in the matter of tenure.

Of the two reports issued by the Committee of Eight one dealt exclusively with Walsh and Sweezy, recommending that they be kept on. The President took this proposal to the Corporation, who vetoed it. The incident shows the advantage to the President in his dual role of Administrator and Corporation member. Had Conant turned down the request again, there probably would have been more hard feeling within the Faculty. Since the action was the Corporation's, however, Conant was not blamed.

Mechanies in Appointments

The second report, altering the whole means of appointments, was passed by the Faculty and the Corporation and was turned over of detail work to the two new Assistant Deans of the Faculty, Paul H. Buck and W. C. Graustein.

The Graustein plan froze each department at its "historic size," and then determined the average length of time a professor stays on the Faculty. By dividing the latter figure (an estimated 34 years) by the former, the plan determines how often a department can appoint permanent members.

All is not mathematics and department recommendations in choosing permanent appointments, however. Occasionally, a department is allowed to "go in debt" and appoint an outstanding man who might be lost to another college if Graustein should be followed literally. The decision of whether a department can overreach itself is left to the Administration.

Another mechanical feature of the appointment system--the ad hoc committee--is likewise in the hands of the President and Dean. They appoint special committee of qualified men, often from outside the academic life, to come to Cambridge for a day to hear witnesses tell why a certain instructor should be added to the permanent Faculty.

Ad Hoc Nominations

After investigating the unique problems of the department, the ad hoc committee can either support the department's own choice or recommend a different name to the President. And for his part, the President can ignore both recommendations and select a wholly new man to put before the Corporation. Both Pusey and Conant are sold on the ad hoc system, however, and would rarely throw out all the committee's findings in favor of their own candidates. In Lowell's time, direct nomination by the President was more frequent.

When there is unanimous agreement between the department, the ad hoc committee, and the Administration, the Corporation will usually rubber stamp the appointment. If the latter groups decide that no candidate should be chosen at that particular time, the Corporation will also concur. About one out of 20 nominations is defeated by the Corporation, usually where the ad hoc committee has recommended no action.

Though the Faculty has taken on the role of an appeals court within the College, its violent pretests would seldom be ignored. When Librarian Motealf decided to morgo Widonor's two catalogues in 1950, the Library Committee approved his suggestion by a marrow margin. Since this was purely a financial matter, the Faculty would ordinarily not be involved at all. But some Faculty protested, and violently, and to the Provost. Buck then opposed the plan and the Corporation backed his view. He had interceded directly because of Faculty pressure.

On the other side of the coin is the Admissions-Scholarship Committee for which the Faculty is informed to have complete control in making policy. Yet until Dean Bonder spoke to the Faculty in January of 1953, that group had never board a statement of Harvard's selection policy for undergraduates.

If a professor should become overly offer in this criticism, of how a Faculty committee is operating, it is a standard Administration maneuver to appoint him to that committee when an opening comes up. This, along with the degrees of Faculty apathy and the soundness of most Administrative proposals keeps friction between the Faculty and Administration at a minimum.

Overseers

"The Overseers should always hold toward the Corporation an attitude of suspicious vigilance." These were the words of an ex-Overseer, Charles. W. Eliot when he assumed the Presidency of Harvard in 1869 and after this "suspicious vigilance" had led to his begin vetoed twice by fellow members of his Board.

Since that time, Overseers are still suspicious and some are still vigilant. But the Overseers, unlike the Corporation, have not merely lent their authority; the Board's powers have slipped away over the years until it is now a channel through which the Corporation and Administration can estimate the alumni attitudes.

Through the years, some Overseers reports have been both valuable and influential: the visiting committee's efforts on behalf of the Business School gave that institution a boost when it needed one. And when Eliot abolished compulsory attendance at morning prayers in 1886, he admitted to considering seriously the attitude of the Overseers.

The Overseers, in theory, also have the right to debate and give consent to all major legation and appointments from assistant professor upwards. In the past4WILLIAM MARBURY Corporation

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