No Tenure for the Teacher

WHEN THE UNIVERSITY recently denied Associate Professor of History Bradford A. Lee a lifetime post, no one was really surprised--least of all Lee.

Lee, who published a well-respected book early in his career, banked most of his tenure hopes on a three-volume study of the interplay between ideas about states' responsibilities and fiscal and spending problems that faced the United States, Britain and France during the second and third quarters of the 20th century.

Scholars agree that's pretty heady stuff. Unfortunately for Lee, the volumes have yet to make it from his head to a prestigious printing house. The History Department, of course, didn't get to see reviews, which it weighs heavily when making tenure recommendations. "I just underestimated the time it would take by a year or two," Lee said.

That's too bad. Because Lee has not completed the work, there is no reason to believe that the scholars who denied him tenure made the wrong decision.

While Lee fills Harvard lecture halls and fills the undergraduates in them with enthusiasm, Harvard need not fill its departments' lifetime posts with scholars who, like Lee, are incisive and engaging but unproven.

ON HIS WAY to winning a Levenson award for outstanding teaching, Lee sacrificed time for research, and perhaps a chance to join Harvard's tenure elite.

Lee said that when he gives 50-minute lectures, he often works from about 20 pages of notes. For Lee, therefore, it's more or less true that the effort of giving three lectures each week during a 12-week semester could translate into a 450-page book.

It's doubtlessly true that many faculty work hard, but this community likes to think it rewards accomplishment. Lee's work has led to remarkably successful classes. And success has led to more work, as undergraduates flock--with their questions, late-night phone calls and other demands--to Lee's History 1711, "The United States and East Asia," and other offerings.

Warren Professor of American History Ernest R. May pointed out that Lee chose to spend his time as he did. Said May: "Everyone understands how this [tenure process] operates. People make their choices about how to allocate their time."

Harvard also has choices to make. One is whether it should reward those who distinguish themselves in carrying out the teaching burdens others are anxious only to shirk. The arguments against giving additional weight to teaching when alotting tenure are too tiresome to rehash. They make a lot of sense. It seems at the very least, however, that Lee should have been given the option of staying on at Harvard until his project was finished.

That offer would have required Harvard to exercise a little liberty with guidelines for junior faculty service, established by the American Association of University Professors. The dean of the faculty of arts and sciences called for the selective exercise of such liberty last spring when he recommended junior faculty be given more personal attention and perks for good performance.

A sense of obligation isn't the only reason Lee should have been allowed more time before his tenure review. Together with Dunwalke Associate Professor Alan Brinkley, Lee teaches about a quarter of those students studying in his department during any given year, freeing colleagues to pursue other interests.

There's nothing wrong with Lee's subsidizing other department members. But it won't happen while Lee spends what he predicts will be 15 or so days applying for his next year's employment. Once he is gone, department members--who confide that Lee is the sort of scholar who might one day be asked to return to a senior post--will have to spend time and effort finding those to staff the courses Lee presides over so conscientiously.

THOSE WHO FIND this arguement unconvincing should think back to The Game of 1968, when Harvard whipped Yale 29-29.

The Crimson started out slow that day, allowing Yale to creep to a 22-0 lead by 7:24 of the second quarter. Harvard battled back to within seven with less then four minutes left to play. It would all have been in vain, however, if a Yale player hadn't fumbled an on-side kick with less than a minute to play, giving Harvard another possesion--and the chance to put another touchdown on the board.

The University owes Lee--the greatest Harvard football hero ever to play for Yale--more than best wishes for a happy sojourn in the academic hinterlands west of the Charles River.