Choosing A Person, Choosing A Mission

When Derek C. Bok announced last month that he intends to resign from the Harvard presidency, he immediately set alumni, faculty and students speculating about a possible successor.

One question that few asked immediately was how that successor would be chosen. After all, the process seems simple enough: a charter in effect since 1650 leaves the choice in the hands of the seven Fellows of the Harvard Corporation, the University's top governing board.

But in fact, the selection of a new Harvard president has never been that simple. Each time the Corporation has set out to choose a president for the University, it has also undertaken an intensive and sometimes painful process of self-scrutiny.

And looking back at previous changes of the Mass Hall guard in search of a clue to the future, one thing is clear: each new president has brought changes in mission and direction to the University--changes that have often been dramatic.

No one is more aware of that than David Riesman '31. A sociology professor who has co-authored a forthcoming book on presidential searches, Riesman has known every Harvard president since A. Lawrence Lowell (Class of 1877).

And no one is more apprehensive than Riesman about the current search.

"It's dangerous, terribly dangerous--it's the scariest thing," he says. "What has been repeated in this century was that the incoming presi- dent had sharp differences from hispredecessor."

From Moralism to Pragmatism

That is certainly true in the case of thecurrent president. In the course of Bok'sselection process in 1970, the most recentprecedent for the 1990 search, the University setout to remake itself in the wake of a period ofuncertainty and discontent.

"In that instance, the times had a lot to dowith it," says John M. Blum '43, a Yale historianwho was then a member of the Harvard Corporation."From the first, we needed someone whosetemperament would restore tranquillity to thetroubled environment and be acceptable to thecommunity of scholars.'

If there was any consensus at Harvard in 1970,it was that new leadership was desperately needed.

To student radicals, then-President Nathan M.Pusey '28 was a rigid reactionary who could not beforgiven for his decision to send in police tobreak up the student takeover of University Hallthe year before. In the eyes of many faculty andalumni, he was an unassertive, unimaginative manwho could not be counted on to take a stand andrestore Harvard to its educational mission.

It was further agreed that the Universityneeded a reorganized administrativesystem--Pusey's small staff in Mass Hall wasunable to handle the demands of the rapidlyexpanding bureaucracy. And faculty members werebecoming increasingly vocal in their calls forredesign of the undergraduate curriculum.

"The student demonstrations were interpreted asa reaction to the general academic environment,"Riesman says. "There was a desire for someone whocould be responsive to undergraduates."

As a result, the search process opened up theusually secretive mechanisms of Harvard governanceto students and faculty to an extent that waslargely unprecedented in recent history. Under theguidance of Senior Fellow Francis H. Burr '35, theCorporation sought the broadest input possible,mailing 203,000 letters asking for advice fromstudents, faculty, and alumni. When undergraduatesproved apathetic, individual Corporation memberssolicited their help by holding dinner meetings ineach of the Houses.

"At that time, the idea of consulting everyconstituent imaginable was a fairly new idea forHarvard," says Judith B. McLaughlin, a lecturer atthe School of Education who is co-author ofRiesman's book on presidential searches. "It was asea-change in American higher education."

Eventually, the Corporation released two listsof finalists, one with 69 names and one with 23,to select committees of professors and students inan effort to ensure consensus. The lists includednames from both inside and outside academia, fromboth Harvard and elsewhere. Among the names on thelonger list was that of future Secretary of StateGeorge P. Shultz, who was then director of theOffice of Management and Budget.

The Corporation's final choice ensured achanged agenda for the coming decades. Bok was alawyer, his pragmatism a stark contrast to Pusey'smoralistic world view. When protesters hadoccupied the Law School library, Bok didn't callin the police. Instead, he brought them donuts andcoffee, staying late into the night to discusstheir demands.

Change Is the Only Constant

The sharp change in direction was nothing new.Indeed, each man to occupy the president's officein this century has created a University markedlydifferent from his predecessor's, Riesman says.

For instance, the selection of Lowell in 1909represented a departure from theelective-oriented, laissez-faire educationchampioned by the previous president, Charles W.Eliot (Class of 1853). Although the popular Eliothad garnered almost universal acclaim for thesystem he had installed during his 40-year tenure,Lowell did not hesitate to implement drasticreforms.

Lowell drove indolent undergraduates out oftheir Gold Coast apartments and into the red-brickHouses he constructed along the Charles. Hetoughened the academic requirements, creating asystem of tutorials and forcing students in theCollege to choose fields of concentration.

But although many of Lowell's reforms remainimportant components of today's University, hissuccessor, too, changed Harvard's course. When theCorporation selected chemist James B. Conant '14in 1933, it decreed a future of modernlaboratories and graduate programs.

"Conant's model was the German researchuniversity, and during Lowell's later years, hedidn't hide his criticism of the tutorial system,"Riesman says. "It seemed to him British,Oxford-common-room, soft, too colloquial, tooconversational."

At 41, Conant was Harvard's first 20th-centurypresident who had grown up in the 20th century,and during his tenure, he did much to dispel theBrahmin tone of the Lowell administration. Heencouraged admissions officers to venture beyondNew England and recruit promising students fromaround the country. On the faculty, Conantwelcomed not just gentleman humanists, but alsothe scientists and mathematicians who pioneeredthe development of the atom bomb.

But though his term was characterized by thehealthy growth of Harvard's facilities, facultiesand international reputation, Conant left theUniversity at a moment of crisis. In 1953, highereducation was under siege from Sen. JosephMcCarthy and his red-hunting cohorts, who hadparticularly targeted what they called "theKremlin on the Charles." Even Conant had beenbrowbeaten into declaring his opposition to hiringknown Communists.

As it would in 1970, the Corporation sought apresident who could lead Harvard through a periodin which its mission was threatened by thenational political climate. Its choice was Pusey,who as president of a small college in McCarthy'sown state of Wisconsin had been one of thesenator's most unwavering foes.

In addition, Corporation members saw thesoftspoken, devoutly Christian classicist as a manwho would bring with him qualities that had beenlacking in Conant's impersonal researchuniversity.

"Nathan Pusey represented a return, in somerespects, to a pre-Eliot Harvard," Riesman says."He came out of the humanities, developed theDivinity School and supported Memorial Church. Hiswas a Harvard of Houses, a Harvard of tutors, aHarvard of conversation."

A National Office

Even when Harvard was not facing a threat fromthe extreme left or right, the Corporation hasbeen mindful of how the presidency is in many waysa national office with national responsibilities.

"The nature of the choice is influential in theechoes it creates elsewhere," Blum says.

In fact, Riesman says, one of the few thingsHarvard's recent presidents had in common was that"everyone had a mission beyond Harvard, both foreducation and for the country as a whole." Forboth Bok and Conant, that meant spearheadingefforts to reform the nation's secondary schools.

But the high visibility of the Harvardpresidency could make it a dangerous instrument ifentrusted to the wrong candidate, McLaughlinwarns.

"The president of Harvard has the potential fora bully pulpit that nobody else has in quite thesame way," she says.

It is for that reason, in part, that theCorporation has always been reluctant to conferthe presidency on anyone who did not already haveties to the University. In fact, Bok, a Law Schoolgraduate and former dean, was the first presidentsince the 17th century who was not an alumnus ofthe College.

Another fairly constant feature has been therelative youth of the Corporation's appointees.Bok was 40 when chosen; only one president sincethe 1860s has been over 50.

That's no accident, according to Blum.

"Old men should no longer be running thisworld, including Harvard," he says. "It needssomeone under 45. It needs energy, youth, andoptimism."

By choosing young candidates, the Corporationhas also given presidents the chance to remain inoffice and shape policy for decades. The terms ofBok and his four immediate predecessors haveaveraged nearly 25 years each.

That trend, McLaughlin says, means it is evenmore crucial that the Corporation choosecarefully.

"The search is a time for stock-taking, forlooking at where we are," she says. "Forinstitutions that have presidents with longertenures, that's a more important process."

Difficult Questions Ahead

It is this process of self-scrutiny that, as inthe past, Harvard must go through before the nextpresident is chosen, says John Isaacson, a HarvardLaw School alumnus who founded a firm that advisesinstitutional searches.

"The first stage in the search should be todecide what results the University shouldaccomplish in the next few years, to ask thequestion, 'How would we know in five years that wemade the right selection?'," he says. "The searchis a success when the search committee is willingto ask itself missionary questions and makechoices among outcomes, rather than letting thecandidates choose for them. The choice of outcomesthen guides them toward the type of candidate theywant to consider."

And looking toward the future, Isaacson says,means asking difficult questions about the past.

"They should ask, 'What does the Universitywant to accomplish?' That's a question that willscare them, because it means looking back at whatBok has done and how that can be improved."

So while some may envy Harvard's currentkingmakers, a veteran of the last search saysthere is no reason for jealousy.

"It's a very serious business looking for aHarvard president," Blum says. "I'm glad I don'thave to do it again."