That Leadership Thing

An upperclass formal. Weekend hours for OCS. Office space for student groups. More funding for House Committees. Buses to Boston. This is how the Undergraduate Council race begins--not with a bang, but a whimper.

In the weeks since we've returned from Thanksgiving break, posters have sprung up around campus marking the start of the campaign for the council presidency. It would be hard to argue that the current crop of would-be leaders is anything other than sorely uninspiring. Aside from the banality of the proposals and slogans being tossed around, one is struck by the parching draught of charisma one finds in the field of candidates.

Surely, they are all personable enough, and among their core group of supporters, undoubtedly they all command a great deal of loyalty. Fentrice Driskell '01 did make an impressive vice-presidential candidate last year, and Sterling P.A. Darling '01 is certainly notable for his unique sartorial style and shellacked hair. But neither Driskell nor Darling, nor anyone else seeking the high office of Holworthy basement can really claim to be a campus leader in any genuine sense.

There once was a time when Big Men and Big Women roamed the colleges of this nation, amassing high honors, pursuing diverse achievements, and earning the widespread admiration (and/or resentment) of their peers. That time is evidently over. We have no real public figures on our campus--at least none that command any amount of serious respect. Yes, most people know the names of Noah Z. Seton '00 and Kamil E. Redmond '00, but I doubt that there is a reservoir of popular emotional affinity for either figure.

Part of the problem lies in the fractured nature of the campus landscape. Students inhabit niches--they chose to devote the bulk of their energies to one or two extracurricular pursuits. Regardless of what they accomplish in their particular fields, they rarely attain a prominence that transcends their immediate sphere of interest. As a result, there are star athletes, well-known writers, respected performers, and council powerbrokers, but rarely are there students who have built reputations that permeate the many sectors of undergraduate life.

The obvious explanation for this state of affairs is the brutally demanding time commitment that any one extracurricular activity has come to require. Students just don't have enough free hours to accomplish many different things. This reality absolves most of us, but it does not entirely excuse those who are currently asking us to anoint them our leader. Yes, it would take someone truly extraordinary to have earned the admiration of the college's many different communities. But shouldn't the man or woman who represents Harvard's student body be at least marginally extraordinary?

If my expectations are unreasonable-if there can no longer be Big Men or Women On Campus-then surely those seeking leadership should somehow compensate for their lack of pre-existing popular support. They should possess the necessary personal attributes to create such support during the brief duration of the council campaign. As the situation currently stands, and has often stood in the past, those few students who vote in two weeks will merely be expressing a lukewarm preference for one candidate over the others, and not an impassioned advocacy. Even if there were serious issues at stake--which admittedly there are not-the current offering of aspiring presidents would be sufficiently dull to drown the enthusiasm of even the most committed activists.

Those considered serious contenders in the race come almost exclusively from within the council. Given the irrelevancy of that body, this makes them particularly ill-suited to win the authentic loyalty of students. Many of the candidates have learned to effectively navigate bureaucracy and lobby the administration. They should all immediately take the state civil service examine. But, they cannot boast any great success with student groups that are well-respected and have no legitimate claim to represent the mass of undergraduates. Even their posters are poorly designed.

The council is a somewhat pathetic organization that may not inspire the interest of the best people on this campus. Or, there may no longer be any people deserving of campus-wide leadership. Perhaps all that remain are local deities. Either way, this year's race for council president is shaping up to be yet another embarrassment to the notion of student government at Harvard, and more sadly, a sign that the purported greatness of Harvard undergraduates may be on the wane.

Noah D. Oppenheim '00 is a social studies concentrator in Adams House. His column appears on alternate Fridays.