Students, Are You Serious?

Judging by the way students have been howling about him in recent days, an unknowing observer might guess that interim Dean of the College David Pilbeam is a puppy-slayer, baby-eater, or someone similarly evil as opposed to what he actually is: a University administrator who takes his job seriously.

Poor Pilbeam landed in a hornet’s nest last week, when he posted a letter to the Undergraduate Council (UC) on the College’s Web site announcing his decision to suspend the UC party grant program. Conceived of in 2003 as a means to bolster undergraduate social life, the program dishes out $1,750 weekly to students who wish to host parties. In his letter, Pilbeam wrote that although he is “sympathetic to the goals of the program,” all recent reports by House officials and administrators attest to the fact that the program does not adequately ensure that students under 21 are not being served alcohol. Since the UC has not assumed responsibility in preventing this problem, the proverbial party is over.

The Dean’s letter threw the student body into a tizzy, and house and student group e-mail lists exploded, as undergraduates vented their outrage. One student proposed on his house open list that the College “is run by regulatory zealots.” Another griped that “Dean Pilbeam’s letter is 70-80 percent bullshit.” What tact.

It’s not surprising that students are mourning the end of the party grant days (free-flowing booze is a good time indeed) but the vitriol reaction toward Pilbeam’s announcement is bizarre. The University is a multibillion-dollar corporation subject to the rules and regulations of the United States, Massachusetts, and Cambridge, all of which enforce the legal drinking age of 21. Through the party grant, the College knowingly funds such illegal activity, albeit indirectly. It is completely reasonable that the higher-ups at Harvard might wish to avoid a lawsuit or public relations nightmare. At the core, student outrage on this front stems from a conflation of the issues—students may legitimately take issue with the nationwide drinking age, but this does not justify their complaints about Pilbeam’s decision.

UC leaders claim the University has no cause for legal concern. In 2004, a legal team advised the Council that both the UC and the University incur only limited liability in association with the fund. The idea is that the money for party grants comes from the student activity fee, which undergraduates pay on their termbill to go directly to UC use. Still, this money technically comes from the University—it is the University that collects it, retains it, and delivers it to the UC. If Harvard is knowingly passing along money to fund underage drinking occurring on its own campus, issues of legality are certainly a concern.

The other main criticisms about Pilbeam’s letter have to do with his method. In addition to the claim that the timing of Pilbeam’s letter was strange, many students have complained that since he is not the permanent dean, he ought not to make any permanent decisions. What, then, is an interim dean meant to do, if not the regular tasks of the position? Perhaps executing a giant institutional overhaul would not be kosher, but suspending a flawed program is hardly a major modification.

For the most part, the word coming out of the UC is that Pilbeam’s letter was hurtful and regretful. But who cares? Pilbeam is a professional administrator, not a guidance counselor, and if Council members want to work on serious issues, they must be willing to take criticism. It’s high time the UC got over itself. It is, after all, a body chartered by the University, not an independent organ.

Broadly, this whole affair speaks to the larger problem of the overblown sense of entitlement among undergraduates, a theme former College Dean Harry R. Lewis ’68 stressed in his 2005 book “Excellence Without A Soul.” This attitude of entitlement has been evident in recent days. An e-mail sent over several lists by a longtime student activist implored students to “call the man who killed your party grants…let’s ensure that [Dean Pilbeam] has a really nice day, feel free to call every hour.” Have we really come to such a lynch mob mentality? The Harvard of gentlefolk is apparently dead.

In a discussion of campus social life, Lewis writes that “‘inadequate social life’ as defined by students today is synonymous with ‘nonalcoholic parties.’ Student leaders take any attempt to moderate drinking as an insult to be countered by even harder drinking.” Indeed, some UC representatives have argued that “drinking will happen” regardless of the College’s intervention, so it might as well happen in Harvard dorms rather than off campus. This premise, however, is a flimsy one. Rules are established to guide behavior—not vice-versa.

It is disheartening that Harvard students are so intent on bickering over bucks for booze. At the end of this debacle, it’s Dean Pilbeam who deserves a drink for the headache undergraduates have put him through.



Lucy M. Caldwell ’09 is a history and literature concentrator in Adams House. Her column appears on alternate Tuesdays.