Rudenstine: Round 2

On November 28, 1994, the 'severely fatigued' president took a leave of absence. A year later, he's trying to do even more--by doing less.

It was a move that rocked the University, shocked the academic community--and even landed Harvard's top official on the cover of a national news magazine.

Indeed, President Neil L. Rudenstine's decision a year ago this week to take a leave of absence for "severe fatigue and exhaustion" was more than an ordinary academic sabbatical. It turned Rudenstine's nascent presidency on its head.

That Rudenstine had burned himself out after just 40 months as president indicated to some that he needed to change his leadership style, and promptly.

A year later, according to Rudenstine and his associates, the change has begun to happen.

Administrators and deans who work closely with Rudenstine also say that he is appearing more energetic than he did last fall. Indeed, Rudenstine himself has said that the decision to take the leave was "the right judgment," both for himself and for the University.

The Fall

The first word of Rudenstine's leave came in a tersely worded statement from the Harvard Corporation on the afternoon of November 28, 1994.

The release was accompanied by a brief statement from Dean of the Medical School Daniel C. Tosteson '44, who served as Rudenstine's medical spokesperson.

"He is suffering from severe fatigue and exhaustion of unknown origin," Tosteson's statement read. "When the results of these studies are available, a more certain prognosis will be possible. It is likely that the president will be on leave for a matter of weeks or longer."

University officials described the statement as the full extent of information available on the president's condition.

Later that afternoon, Provost Albert Carnesale--who was appointed acting president in Rudenstine's absence--held a tense 15-minute press conference in the reading room of the Faculty Club.

There, Carnesale referred all medical questions to Tosteson, although he said that all medical tests were being conducted on an outpatient basis.

"He's not bed-ridden," Carnesale said. "He's not hooked up to anything. What he is is tired.... [The absence] is as close as one can get to an order from his physicians."

University officials maintained that no single incident led to Rudenstine's exhaustion, although the leave itself, sources have said, was prompted by the fact that Rudenstine simply could not be awakened for a morning meeting the Tuesday before Thanksgiving. Instead, Carnesale attributed the president's fatigue to the "intensity" with which Rudenstine approached the job.

Details about the president's condition were difficult to come by. During the first few weeks of the leave, the University never provided independent confirmation of its claim that Rudenstine was at home resting. Repeated phone calls to the president and his immediate family went unreturned; requests for any kind of contact with Rudenstine went for naught.

In the middle of December, the News Office gave The Crimson a photo of Rudenstine and Carnesale, and said that the picture had been taken at a Mass. Hall holiday party.

On December 19, the Corporation, the University's higher governing board, announced that Rudenstine would return to work in February.

On February 23, Rudenstine returned to Mass. Hall promising to delegate more to his aides.

And indeed, Rudenstine quickly allocated to Carnesale significant responsibility for international fundraising efforts as part of the University's $2.1 billion capital campaign.

Carnesale, who is serving concurrently as dean of the Kennedy School of Government until later this month, also assumed some of Rudenstine's lobbying responsibilities, the provost said at the time.

Still, the late winter was not all good news for the University. When Newsweek decided to do a cover story on fatigue in American life, it chose Rudenstine for its cover in a move that insiders say was highly embarrassing to the University.

Rudenstine's Reflections

Rudenstine says now that he believes he was correct in deciding to take the leave, despite whatever bad publicity the decision may have brought to the University.

"I did what I thought was the best thing, not just for myself but for the University, really, I think that's the important thing," the president says. "I would not say anything was for purely personal [reasons]. I needed some rest in order to be able to work."

Rudenstine adds that he needed to make sure he was completely rested before continuing the job.

"You can only work very effectively if you're feeling that you have not just the requisite energy but the extra energy to do so, and I thought that was important for recovery," he says.

When asked to reflect on the reasons for his fatigue, Rudenstine points to a variety of time-consuming--and time-dependent--items on his agenda during his first three years in office.

First, Rudenstine had to spend enormous amounts of time getting to know the people, programs and departments of the University. Rudenstine had earned a Ph.D. in English from Harvard in 1964 and served as a lecturer and associate professor for four years after that. But for the 23 years before he was named president in 1991, Rudenstine worked at Princeton University and at the Mellon Foundation.

Second, Rudenstine had to lead the charge in the planning of the University's $2.1 billion capital campaign, a fundraising drive more ambitious than any previous campaign in the history of higher education. The campaign kicked off officially in May 1994, but planning for the drive had been on Rudenstine's plate since his first days in office.

Third, Rudenstine had to initiate and complete a comprehensive academic planning report, which included critical analysis of the entire University's academic infrastructure.

Fourth, Rudenstine had to make a number of high-level administrative appointments. In his first three years alone, he had to conduct two searches for a provost, replace three of his five vice presidents and conduct separate searches for deans of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, the Graduate School of Design, the Kennedy School and the Graduate School of Education.

"The agenda from the first three years was very, very time-dependent, and we had a great number of things to accomplish," Rudenstine says.

"The campaign had already been announced and had to move forward, and in order for it to move forward, it had to be well-planned," he continues. "And in addition to all that, and acquaintance with the University on my part and all its programs and engaging with the agenda, a lot of appointments and an awful lot of other things that had to be done basically within 36 months."

Rudenstine says that there has been a fundamental and permanent change in the University's agenda that will ensure that he will never again be overworked to the point of burning out.

For one, Rudenstine says he is now much more familiar with the University.

"I'm not new to the University in terms of literally not knowing more than a handful of people," he says. "There's still a lot of people I'd like to get to know, and will keep trying to, but at least it's a reasonable number. That also [goes for] programs, departments and schools, trying to get to know them so I could make judgments about that."

And although many administrators have said the current, middle stretch of the fundraising campaign is its most difficult, Rudenstine says there was a different kind of anxiety in the first few years of the drive.

"We don't have to build a campaign organization to raise [$2.1 billion]," he says. "We have to raise the next set, but that's not quite the same. It's not knowing whether you can make it at all, quite honestly. It's not the same as never having done it before as an institution and doing it for the first time."

As a further safeguard, Rudenstine and his aides say the president has made changes in his work habits and schedule.

During his first three years in office, the president acquired a reputation as a relentless micromanager.

Beyond that, at least one former aide has blasted Rudenstine for getting caught up in even the most trivial of matters, even to the exclusion of broader, more important issues.

Former provost and current Leverett Professor of Inter-Faculty Teaching and Research Jerry R. Green, who was Rudenstine's top lieutenant for two years, told The Crimson recently that he found the president "unable to focus" systematically on "the principle long-term issues that will determine our future as a University."

Now, however, Rudenstine's associates say he has made a deliberate effort to refocus on larger matters.

"There is more support so that the president has more time for important things," says Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles.

Indeed, Rudenstine says there are more "planned holes" in his schedule than there were in his first three year.

"It just gives one time to do some things during the day, even if it only takes a phone call or answering letters or whatever it may be or meeting ad hoc with someone--things that used to be done at night or on weekends" the president says.

Rudenstine is also taking occasional planned vacations. This summer, for example, he spent several weeks in Europe. Last winter, while he was on his leave, he took a trip to the Caribbean.

Rudenstine is also taking more time to relax day-to-day. Several of Rudenstine's aides have said they were surprised to find him milling about with his wife, dressed in casual clothes, during October's Head of the Charles rowing regatta.

And Rudenstine himself has said he is attempting to make his schedule less demanding.

"I don't think we could say that there is a whole lot less in the way of events, but it is true that there are simply more better periods so that when the events come, we spend a little more time [in between]," he says.

Others credit Carnesale for stepping up to take off the burden.

"We've all now learned how valuable a role the provost can play," says Divinity School Dean Ronald F. Thiemann.

And, Rudenstine's colleagues say, the fresh start has been good for him.

"He's looking reinvigorated and as energetic as ever," says Vice President for Administration Sally Zeckhauser. "He seems to be doing just fine."