Opening the Doors to Mass. Hall

Ask undergraduates what they think of University President Lawrence H. Summers, and their replies will range from unfettered vitriol to fawning praise, with all possible stops in between. Still, though every last student can be counted on to have an opinion of our University’s head, many of them would be at a loss to back up their judgments with specifics—for as Summers has consolidated his hold on Harvard, his administration has demonstrated an unsettling penchant for secrecy and centralized decision-making rather than the proper level of transparency and consultation.

Perhaps it’s not surprising—though it is certainly lamentable—to find students out of the loop on the highest-level decisions at the University. But it is not just students who are complaining. At a “town hall” meeting for science faculty last Tuesday, professors from the Faculty of Arts and Sciences (FAS) protested the unsatisfactory trickle of information coming from Mass. Hall about building in Allston. In particular, they wondered why a report by former Dean of the Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles arguing against moving FAS sciences across the river was allowed to be read only behind closed doors in University Hall and in department heads’ offices. A week later, after another Faculty meeting, professors again questioned Summers’ handling of Allston, complaining that they had not been provided with as many details as they would like on the exact breakdown of Allston expenditures.

The discussion between Mass. Hall and everyone else has indeed come to seem more and more like a monologue. Many professors claim that Summers kept them in the dark as he considered the possibility of moving some of FAS’ sciences to Allston. Similarly, the interest he has shown in potentially building undergraduate housing across the river blindsided a student body now routinely deprived of input in—or information about—such decisions. In fairness, Summers has not made permanent decisions about Allston yet. But it is difficult to dismiss Professor of German Peter J. Burgard’s concern, expressed to The Crimson after last week’s meeting, that “what we perceive as a fait accompli is being presented to us as if there’s a discussion.”

Unfortunately, these worries are nothing new—many at Harvard have been uncomfortable with Summers’ tactics, which too often hint at contempt for students and faculty. It is a sad reality that we have to continue to ask Summers to loosen his grip on information and thoughtfully listen to what all the stakeholders at the University have to say.

But Summers is not the only one to blame in this case. Students and faculty should not allow other administrators to think they can sit idly by. We are particularly frustrated with the lackluster work of Dean of the Faculty William C. Kirby, who has apparently done little to better the relationship between FAS professors and the president. Kirby should try to get more information to professors who are feeling disenfranchised and deceived, or at least explain to them why they aren’t being consulted. Instead, Kirby stayed mum while his Faculty was given a blunt message from President Summers in November: that, like it or not, they don’t have a vote when it comes to Allston.

In nearly three years as president, Summers has certainly made Harvard more centralized. But he has also diminished transparency, and as long as we have a weak dean of the Faculty in place, it doesn’t look like professors or students will get a real glimpse into Mass. Hall, where the real decisions are made—let alone a voice that’s listened to. Why does the ivory tower seem to have been occupied by sentries?