The Beaten Track

BEING INDEPENDENT of mind at Harvard is not as easy as one might think. It certainly gives one an edge with the Admissions Committee and is indispensible in coping with the baffling and unguided maze of the Harvard bureaucracy. But when it comes down to actual intellectual pursuit. Harvard suddenly steps in with the majestic weight of its history to stamp certain chosen fields as sacred and unalterable.

Most formal concentrations at Harvard are notoriously impervious to compromise. Obvious redundancies and incongruities result. Thus, all English majors must take English 10. "The Tradition of English Literature," regardless of individual grounding. Social Analysis 10 remains indispensable to a Social Studies program, even one focusing on the psychology of religion. Harvard disdainfully dismisses objections as mere attempts to "avoid requirements." But whose requirements are they? Certainly Harvard should not assume that one set of guidelines, ostensibly established to meet students' educational needs, will suit everyone perfectly. The Faculty's unwillingness to entertain suggestions for change indicates Harvard's blanket assumption that no student's alternative will be as academically sound.

Generally, students with serious complaints about their concentration are referred to the Special Concentrations Committee, haven of independent academic commitment. But although this committee has proven the answer for some disgruntled students, it leaves much to be desired. Declaring a special concentration exposes a student to a whole new set of problems.

The main difficulty with a Special Concentration is lack of departmental resources. One's "department" consists of only oneself and a faculty advisor, who is responsible for the bureaucracy of the program but not necessarily for its instruction. Thus, the student must also locate tutors, advisors, and thesis readers (in the honors option) willing to lend their time and energy. Physiological psychology has recently asserted itself as a well-paved alternate track, but students attempting other innovations are usually not so lucky. Often, finding anyone qualified in a special area is difficult enough without also having to beg them for a commitment. There is no support network of a department full of professors and teaching fellows with similar interests. Finally, if a course or faculty member integral to one's program is absent for some reason, no one is responsible for filling the gap. One has essentially entered a bureacratic vacuum.

Given these adds against success, It is natural that the Special Concentrations Committee offers little encouragement to potential students Sprinkled throughout the application are grim warnings about the necessity for extreme self-motivation and perseverance for a successful Special Concentration. The warnings stress the extreme aggressiveness students will need, implying that any failure of special program stems from the student's own insufficient endeavor--not from Harvard's perversity is making the option so difficult.

CERTAINLY, a student must be particularly aggressive in order to undertake a Special Concentration, so the warnings are reasonable. The fallacy is that maintaining such a high level of energy should be the only way to succeed in an alternative intellectual pursuit. This appears two only became Special Concentrations are the only way to achieve academic independence at Harvard.

Intellectual rigor and cogency are all that a plan of study logically requires; if the program also happens to be original, the student may also need some extra perseverance to convince others of its legitamacy. Yet the Special Concentrations Committees leaps from this point to place barriers before students which are nearly impossible to overcome; even manageable programs generally prove extremely stressful. For many students, the prospect of continuous uncertainly about their academic future is too high a price for pursuing an unestablished field that fascinates them. Even the amount of time it takes to coordinate a Special Concentration may tip the scales in a student's mind, and may even make the whole program unworkable. Such dangers are inherent in the setup; by making that setup the only mute to an alternative program, and then--realistically--discouraging or rejecting so many applicants. Harvard has effectively divested itself of any responsibility for addressing individual academic needs.

Two options present themselves. One is to alter the Special Concentrations Committee itself. With increased philosophical support from the University, it could perhaps take a more active role in getting faculty members to gather with students in both the planning and teaching stages of the program. The application process should certainly remain rigorous, but the committee might try to suggest more routes of access to information and personnel.

A more direct and feasible route, though, would be to render existing concentrations more flexible. Departments have all the advantages of staff and resources. Perhaps they might add to these the advantage of being truly sensitive to legitimate academic pursuits beyond those which they themselves have established. The English Department has lately taken steps to revamp its requirements to better reflect concentrators needs: the more departments follow their lead, the better.

A Harvard education is undeniably a thing of value, both for the quality of its academics and for the ineffable attraction of the Harvard name. Yet such value has its price, and academically adventurous students deserve their money's worth. The thrall of a name cannot last forever, and without a stronger philosophical commitment to individual academic needs. Harvard could lose its most valuable resource--a creative student body--through the flaw of its own hubris.