The Rap on West

By now, the feud between Harvard President Lawrence H. Summers and Fletcher University Professor Cornel R. West ’74 has become old news; indeed, it seems that at least some of the friction was hype created by the media’s ever-present desire to have a feeding frenzy at Harvard’s expense. Still, the issues this controversy raises are anything but ephemeral, cutting to the heart of some of the most fundamental principles upon which Harvard—or for that matter any University—is based.

According to media reports, West may have been angry at Summers for not speaking out more strongly in favor of affirmative action. West was also upset, though, because he felt personally insulted by Summers’ exhortations that he be a leader in combating grade inflation and that he embark on a work of serious scholarship rather than record rap CDs.

First and foremost, Summers, like former President Neil L. Rudenstine before him, is and always has been a staunch supporter of diversity. He indicated as much in his inaugural address. West’s complaint was more over form than substance. West seems to have felt that Summers was just not vocal enough in expressing his support of diversity. On Jan. 2, Summers responded by making his views unequivocally and undeniably clear in a public statement.

Indeed, diversity is not—nor ever was—at stake here. But what is?

One issue raised by Summers’ and West’s feud is the responsibility of professors. Academia is perhaps the only field of employment where, after reaching a certain level of achievement, one receives total job security for the rest of one’s life. Tenured professors are, in a sense, on the honor system. They do not have to publish a single book—indeed, they don’t even have to publish a single article—to keep their jobs. Summers, West and every other tenured professor in this and all universities can do whatever they want with their time; they will retain their positions regardless of their work.

But the tenure system, of course, was created in order to foster academic freedom—in order to allow professors to publish (as West has done in the past) bold and original scholarship without worrying whether it will be immediately accepted. The system was not created so that professors with tenure would have free license to effectively switch careers and produce things other than scholarship, be they music, drawings or lawn-chairs. West’s job—the one that Harvard hired him for and pays him a large salary to perform—is to write scholarly books and articles, not to make music. Further, as one of only 13 people here with the title of University Professor, West is an example not only to the rest of the Faculty, but to scholars all over the world.

In addition, a University should be a place of free and open discussion, not one of threats and coercion. West knows well that his loss would be a tremendous blow to this institution. He is one of Harvard’s best-known professors and has been a central figure in his field for a good while now. In addition to the intrinsic hurt of losing a noted scholar and a loved teacher, West’s loss would be an embarrassment to a University that prides itself on seeking out, employing and retaining the world’s finest faculty.

West’s attempt to, in effect, force Summers to accept his perspective on this (or indeed any) issue seems to run counter to the very foundations of a free and open society—the kind of society which, ironically, affirmative action attempts to create.

Last, and perhaps most troubling, is that West’s handling of this situation seems in many respects to contradict some (ostensibly) vital underpinnings of his own teaching and work. Most notably, West has made a name for himself for courageously standing up for what he believes in, whether or not it is generally accepted.

If West believed that Harvard’s commitment to diversity had waned, it would seem much more in line with both his own general behavior and also what he stresses in his work to stay here at Harvard and fight for what believes. Running away to Princeton in the face of an intransigent president is the last thing one would expect from a man who both in his actions and his words has refused to back down from very controversial topics, such as his advocacy of reparations for slavery.

Unfortunately, as a teacher, West does not have the artist’s privilege of separating himself from his words and, selectively, from his actions. Even if Robert Frost was an insufferable curmudgeon, his poetry still warms people’s hearts across the country. West, unfortunately, does not have this luxury—it is his responsibility to prove that he can consistently live by his recommendations as zealously as he advocates them. Otherwise, he should perhaps consider a career-switch and try his hand in the art world. But wait—he already has.

Z. Samuel Podolsky ’04, a Crimson editor, is a classics concentrator in Currier House.