Fund Drive May Benefit Students, But Drain Rudenstine's Time

Money is something President Neil L. Rudenstine wants urgently.

This spring he will formally announce a five-year, $2 billion, university-wide capital campaign that will dwarf any fund drive in higher education history. Meanwhile, time is something he's finding in shorter and shorter supply.

The more money he raises, the less time he has.

And the breakneck pace at which Rudenstine must operate to compensate has some people quite concerned.

"He operates at full tilt all the time," says Jack P. Reardon Jr. '60, executive director of the Harvard Alumni Association, who travels with Rudenstine on campaign-related business. "You worry about that physically."

Rudenstine himself brushes aside speculation that he may be in danger of burning out. "I don't worry about exhaustion," asserts the president, clutching a mug of coffee.

Still, he concedes, "Scheduling is going to be tighter all around." And, besides physical exhaustion, there are times when even the president wonders whether it's possible to be "quite on the mark, on every issue, if you're racing all the time."

"If you see me seeming not to pay attention to anything, let me know," he encourages a visitor. "No, I'm serious. I'll need some advice as I go along."

Rudenstine estimates that, over the course of the campaign, he will spend between 25 and 30 percent of his time fundraising--slightly more near the campaign's start and at its conclusion, slightly less in the middle.

Inevitably, experts say, that means the president will face some tough choices.

"If you, as the president, have the option of tea with the senior class--an age-old tradition--or being present at a ceremony for a $5 million donation, what do you do?" asks University fundraising consultant Martin Grenzebach, chair of Chicago-based John Grenzebach & Assoc., adding that the answer isn't obvious.

Perhaps more so than the ultimate financial success or failure of the campaign, it is those types of choices that could define Rudenstine's legacy at Harvard.

"Even if you go out and raise $2 billion for the institution and are lionized for that, I don't think anyone can say that having done that, and that only, is asuccessful presidency," Grenzebach says. "Thereare too many other issues and audiences that needto be addressed."

Along those lines, Grenzebach and otherssuggest that one danger of fund drives is the verydefined nature of their goals.

"Fundraising becomes appealing because unlikeother aspects of managing the institution, it'smore clear cut," says Grenzebach. "Thereultimately is a bottom line in fundraising: themoney either comes in or it doesn't."

But Rudenstine says he doesn't fear beingmesmerized by the ever-present fund driveyardstick.

Quite the contrary, he asserts, his first loveis spending time on campus, talking with studentsand faculty members, rather than on the road,making the case for contributions.

Reardon, too, says Rudenstine recognizes theneed to keep his agenda balanced. The problem, henotes, arises in explaining the time crunch toothers, and in denying them unlimited access tothe president.

"Some alumni and presidents of Harvard clubsare doing their thing and don't have a sense ofthe big picture," Reardon says. "They invite him[to speak] and expect him to come."

The inevitable result when Rudenstine can'tmake it? "People can get disappointed," Reardonsays.

Rudenstine says it is precisely his effort toattend as many events as possible that creates yetanother challenge for his schedulers: allowingflexibility.

With many speeches, dinners and ceremoniesslotted in on the president's calendar a year ormore in advance, there is little room left overfor last-minute maneuvering.

"I'll probably have to explain to more groupsof people why I can't do more things on everyfront, and that includes fundraising as well,"Rudenstine says

Along those lines, Grenzebach and otherssuggest that one danger of fund drives is the verydefined nature of their goals.

"Fundraising becomes appealing because unlikeother aspects of managing the institution, it'smore clear cut," says Grenzebach. "Thereultimately is a bottom line in fundraising: themoney either comes in or it doesn't."

But Rudenstine says he doesn't fear beingmesmerized by the ever-present fund driveyardstick.

Quite the contrary, he asserts, his first loveis spending time on campus, talking with studentsand faculty members, rather than on the road,making the case for contributions.

Reardon, too, says Rudenstine recognizes theneed to keep his agenda balanced. The problem, henotes, arises in explaining the time crunch toothers, and in denying them unlimited access tothe president.

"Some alumni and presidents of Harvard clubsare doing their thing and don't have a sense ofthe big picture," Reardon says. "They invite him[to speak] and expect him to come."

The inevitable result when Rudenstine can'tmake it? "People can get disappointed," Reardonsays.

Rudenstine says it is precisely his effort toattend as many events as possible that creates yetanother challenge for his schedulers: allowingflexibility.

With many speeches, dinners and ceremoniesslotted in on the president's calendar a year ormore in advance, there is little room left overfor last-minute maneuvering.

"I'll probably have to explain to more groupsof people why I can't do more things on everyfront, and that includes fundraising as well,"Rudenstine says