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An Underappreciated Legacy

By Richard Bradley

You have to wonder if somewhere, in the privacy of a peaceful and book-lined study, Neil Rudenstine isn’t reading about the goings-on at Harvard and allowing himself the luxury of a smile.

After all, when the University’s 26th president left campus in June 2001, he was not exactly encouraged to linger. In choosing Larry Summers to replace Rudenstine, then-Corporation member D. Ronald Daniel told the New York Times, “We agreed that we needed somebody more aggressive, more pushy, bolder.”

Ouch. Corporation members don’t usually damn departing presidents with faint praise. But Daniel was hardly alone in his opinion. Rudenstine had become widely seen, in the words of one critic, as “the incredible shrinking college president,” a man whose mild presence had diminished the stature of the Harvard presidency. Larry Summers, his proponents insisted, would restore the role of university president to its pre-Rudenstine stature.

Things haven’t quite turned out that way. Four years into the Summers era, Harvard is trying to recover from the most traumatic internal upheaval since the 1969 takeover of University Hall. Maybe it’s time to reconsider that assessment of Neil Rudenstine.

President from 1991 to 2001, Rudenstine focused on an agenda that was subtle but significant. He effected the final merger of Harvard and Radcliffe, a delicate and thankless task. He oversaw Harvard’s secret purchases of Allston land and took upon himself the prickly job of making those purchases public. He was an adamant, if courteous, supporter of affirmative-action, and his interest in the vital problem of race in America inspired him to build the nation’s finest department of Afro-American studies. And he was, by all accounts, passionately devoted to maintaining the high quality of the Harvard professoriat.

Rudenstine did these things with decency, grace, and an appreciation for the civility so essential to a university. In a 1992 commencement address, he warned against individuals who “have sometimes been deliberately provocative” when discussing other members of the community. “We do need to recognize that each [person] has the potential to divide communities quite sharply,” he said. “Over time, patterns of behavior that are divisive or clearly disruptive can take a heavy toll.” Division, Rudenstine thought, was not the hallmark of a great university—nor a great president.

Of course, Rudenstine will always be known as the president who raised $2.6 billion, which also falls into the realm of thankless tasks. Fundraising is a harder job than it often appears, and to many observers, Rudenstine’s devotion to that mission made the job of Harvard president look unromantic, unimpressive, and slightly tawdry. Everyone at Harvard could think of ways to spend that money, but few wanted to dwell on what was required to raise it. And, to be sure, the fact that Rudenstine had to raise an estimated $1 million a day meant that he was more removed from undergraduate life than he, and the students, would have liked.

Still, to fully appreciate Rudenstine’s accomplishments it may help to consider Larry Summers’ priorities. President Summers’ worthy financial aid initiative certainly benefits from Rudenstine’s fundraising. So does his desire to internationalize the university, a costly proposition. And the toughest part of developing the Allston campus was probably taking the heat for buying the land in secret, or perhaps pushing through a tax on the endowment to fund Allston planning, as Rudenstine did. Moving the schools of education and public health to a shiny new campus is not exactly uprooting Harvard’s entrenched bureaucracies.

The truth is, every serious candidate to replace Rudenstine had essentially the same agenda for Harvard—globalization, Allston, boosting the sciences, and revitalizing Harvard College academics. These goals were obvious, and they all built on the foundation Rudenstine laid. Larry Summers can focus on them because he hasn’t had to fundraise full-time. For that, he—and Harvard—can thank his predecessor.

Neil Rudenstine may not have had the kind of agenda that produces glowing headlines, but he did accomplish what he set out to do. And that begs the question of whether his diplomatic leadership style might not be better suited to advancing the university’s agenda than the more pugnacious style of its current president.

To be fair, President Summers’ advocates say that his bull-in-a-china-shop style is exactly what Harvard needs. The rhetoric of that argument is powerful, but the logic curious. After all, Summers has repeatedly sandbagged his own agenda by igniting pointless and distracting controversies. In other instances, such as the curricular review, President Summers’ insular leadership has probably made his work less successful rather than more. What, exactly, has Larry Summers done that Neil Rudenstine could not have also accomplished, and without the trauma?

According to the New York Times, President Summers has asked the help of various sages to help him retool his his management style. Perhaps he should simply pick up the phone and call his predecessor.

The author of Harvard Rules, Richard Bradley will speak March 9 at the Old South Meeting House, Boston, for the Ford Hall Forum. (Call 617-373-5800 or go to www.fordhallforum.neu.edu).

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