Omnibus Was Not Everything

At the end of yesterday's Omnibus survey of university education and "Harvard in particular," announcer Alistair Cooke thanked President Pusey for allowing Harvard to be turned "upside down" for the sake of the television production. The apology was in order--what covered the screen for ninety minutes was not only an inverted picture of Harvard, but a small and thus distorted view. The camera never focussed on a lecture, or classroom, and the few students and professors who did manage to appear were either outnumbered by deans and politicians or drowned out by announcers and alumni.

Typically, more time was spent on the nine generations of Saltonstalls than on the University Professors--who were not even mentioned. Senator Saltonstall may have won some votes yesterday afternoon, but such statements as "a good education is mighty helpful" were not very informative. Senator Kennedy was more pleasant, if only because he spoke less.

The tendency to spend more time on alumni than on present students was aggravated by repeated talks from Leonard Bernstein and Dr. W. Barry Wood, now vice-president of Johns Hopkins. Bernstein, a polished television performer, recalled his college days and the opportunities they afforded him to have his music performed.

The program's attempt to describe "What sort of boys" go to Harvard, were even less successful. Lyle Guttu '58, was the only student allowed enough time to express impressions and opinions of Harvard. The next typical student was John Marshall '57, who showed films which he took while he was in Africa on an anthropologial expedition. The pictures were fascinating, if not Harvardian, and they were also useful because, as Marshall explained, "The bushmen are dying out."

No doubt the bushman film was shown to entertain the public. Also in the category were the pretty but useless minutes spent watching Tenley Albright swish around the Watson rink. University life, however, does not revolve around bushmen and ice-skates. Omnibus came closer to the truth when it showed rehearsals of the Hasty Pudding Show and of the Eliot House Players. For a few minutes it seemed as though Master Finley of Eliot House would be able to give a real insight into the house system. In the time at his disposal he did a remarkable job. Professor Beer's tutorial was buried beneath Senator Kennedy's narration and the obviously bogus atmosphere.

While the camera moved past Finley and Beer too quickly, it slackened tediously at the business school for a case discussion of why a female shoe maker was fired. The stop at the law school for a mock trial was more interesting and, with the aid of intelligent narration, gave a better insight into learning at the post-graduate level.

The most constructive effort to examine university education came in the last few minutes, during a meeting of the deans with President Pusey. The subject of the round table talk, "How applied should a University education be?" had appeal to both the public and to educators. But the time spent at the track, the cage, the river, and the rink left little for the Deans. They could do little but generalize and, as President Pusey did, quote from President Eliot--"Truth and right above utility." They were followed by Professor Emeritus Samuel Eliot Morrison in an interesting talk on the "Veritas" and buildings of the Yard.

But aside from architecture and mottos, little of the real Harvard ever appeared. A few scenes from lectures, dining halls, house dances, bull sessions, football games, and Cronins would not have hurt. The Harvard atmosphere is difficult to place on a black and white screen, but Omnibus not only missed, it did not even make a good college try.