Showing His Spine

In 1997, Albert Carnesale left his position as Harvard's provost and leaped into the eye of a storm as he assumed the chancellorship of the University of California at Los Angeles. Carnesale arrived at UCLA in the wake of the passage of state Proposition 209, the popularly approved initiative that barred state universities from considering race as a factor in admissions decisions. Carnesale knew that he had no choice whether to obey the law; if he did not, he would be fired.

Yet the barrage of anti-209 student protesters Carnesale suddenly faced at UCLA had little concern for his job safety or adherence to a popularly passed law. In their eyes, Carnesale was their servant, accountable above all else to undergraduate sentiment. If Carnesale would not disobey the law, protesters reasoned, perhaps he could be urged to issue public statements, as his predecessor had, criticizing 209 as harmful to the rich ethnic and racial diversity of UCLA. Despite a student takeover of the main administrative building and raging protests in campus quads, however, Carnesale refused to buckle.

The protesters at UCLA seemed disoriented by the show of courage by a university administrator. UCLA's Daily Bruin reported that one objector's sign taunted: "We love you Carnesale! Bruins for spineless bureaucrats." It seems these students myopically believed that having a spine meant agreeing with their own claims regardless of their validity.

Carnesale has done more than just stand up to the protesters, however; he has courageously one-upped them. Though he has refused to disobey the law, he remains committed to an ideal of racial, ethnic, and class diversity in the university. But he is working toward this ideal by chipping away at long-ignored systemic problems and shunning the quick fix of affirmative action.

His plan--dubbed an "affirmative reaction"--includes vigorous pursuit of academically qualified minority applicants, welcoming programs led by current minority students, and--most importantly--a $6.5 million program to improve the quality of low-performing minority Los Angeles high schools by training teachers and sending UCLA students to mentor minority high school students.

Unfortunately, Carnesale's initiatives are of little interest to the student demonstrators. Stacy Lee, UCLA's student body president, has been one of Carnesale's most persistent critics. "This is our university, and he's the leader, so he should defy an unjust law that hurts us," Lee told the Chronicle of Higher Education.

Yet, despite Lee's commitment to improving educational access for minorities, she and fellow protesters have largely avoided participation in any of Carnesale's programs. Energy is clearly the strong suit of these student critics; what an impact that energy would have if it were directed toward mentoring at-risk minority high school students or lobbying the state legislature for more equitable funding for local school districts.

Carnesale's bold disdain for fashionable public opinion is made even more extraordinary by the recent willingness of the University of California system's governing board to issue symbolic proclamations to win favor among racial minorities disenchanted with 209. In mid-January, the UC Board of Regents held its first meeting of the year, where a group of regents hinted that they would propose a symbolic vote whereby the board would voice their support for affirmative action in UC admissions.

Knowing full well that UC admissions procedures are governed by Proposition 209, the regents desire to send a signal to correct the opinion among some California racial minorities that the UC system does not want them. "We have tainted ourselves, rightly or wrongly, that we are adverse to diversity," regent William Bagle said. Carnesale chooses not to waste his time such fruitless symbolic gestures.

In refusing to succumb to public opinion as the regents have, Albert Carnesale has shown that he is a discerning--and, unfortunately, unique--brand of educator who seeks to do more than just placate by means of symbolism. Instead, he has considered the university's ultimate goal and developed a means to that goal with the framework of the law. The resistance his ambitious plans have encountered suggests California's education problems may have as much to do with administrative malaise as with funding. Carnesale's brave response to these problems is far better for California's neglected minority students than the chants of the protesters or the ineffectual gestures of the UC regents.

Carnesale's handling of the Proposition 209 issue is instructive for us. When students at Harvard lobby for ethnic studies courses or cable TV and find their efforts stymied, they ought to remember that effective administrators must not simply cave in to what students believe to be in their interest, but instead are obliged to consider the most prudent path to the university's goals.

When Harvard lost Albert Carnesale, it lost a thoughtful university man who skillfully transcended student myopia and considered the many constituencies and goals of the university when charting its course. The university needs stewards with Carnesale's vision and fortitude if it is to withstand attacks on its integrity.

Adam R. Kovacevich '99 is a government concentrator in Quincy House. His column will appear on alternate Mondays.