On Physicality
Let me address some posters below who suggest that I am "obsessed" with physical appearance because a) I live in New York, b) I'm sexist, c) I'm shallow, and d) just cuz.
All of the above may be true, but I don't think so; in fact, I don't even buy the premise that I'm obsessed with physical appearance.
What I have seen over and over, however, is that in every leadership environment one can imagine, physical appearance matters. Whether it's LBJ using his height to intimidate, Kennedy just, well, being Kennedy, Reagan using his twinkly eyes to charm, Derek Bok looking straight out of central casting, Larry Summers taking a different tack, Steve Jobs in blue jeans—the way that a leader physically presents him or herself affects the reception of his or her program. Remember Hillary Clinton's haircuts? Jimmy Carter in running shorts?
Another example: I am quite convinced that Al Gore will not run for president. Why? Because he's gained a lot of weight. Does that make me shallow? No. It just suggests to me that Gore enjoys his current life too much to conform to the sacrifices demanded of a presidential candidate. (After all, when was the last time a fat person ran for president? Because, well, what would that extra weight signify in a leader, really? Indiscipline? Sloth? Or just bad genes?)
I know that in Cambridge this is an unpopular theory, as it's more appealing to believe that ideas, people, and programs succeed on merit alone. This is, of course, nonsense. Perhaps things shouldn't be this way, but to point out a truism of the human condition does not make the observer shallow, sexist, and so on. Is it any coincidence that many of Harvard's best-known professors happen to be beautiful dressers? Do not Steve Pinker, Malcolm Gladwell and Albert Einstein all brand themselves in a particular way, and is this not relevant to the way in which they are perceived?
Now, you folks may fault me for discussing the physical makeover Drew Faust underwent in the last eight months—snazzier clothing, more jewelry, new glasses, better haircut, whiter teeth (I think). But hey, if I'm wrong just to remark upon it, then isn't she
more wrong for doing it? Because
she obviously thinks that appearance matters, or she wouldn't have done these things.
And let's be honest—you folks think so too. When I was reporting
Harvard Rules, the one comment that I heard most about Larry Summers
by far was criticism of his physical appearance—his untucked shirts, his dirty ties, his eating habits, and so on.
And this was, in fact, a perfectly legitimate thing to comment upon, as Summers' sloppiness suggested to many of you a disrespect to the community. Whether or not that impression was accurate or fair, it did have a tangible impact on Summers' ability to lead that community; he
should have cared more about what he wore and how he looked. This was a mistake that Derek Bok surely never made.
And this is a lesson that Drew Faust seems to have learned, and there is nothing wrong in pointing that out, unless you want to close both your eyes and your critical faculties.
Now, tell me the truth: Imagine the (let's be honest, and no offense intended) slightly more drab Drew Faust on that stage the other day, instead of the more youthful, more spruced up Faust we all saw.
I'm sure it wouldn't have affected
your reaction to her speech. You are, of course, bigger than that. But perhaps you'll concede that
some people might have been more inclined to think positively of her because she looked great? Particularly all the non-academic types....
The point is, Harvard has a leader now who is in the process of evolving from one identity—the academic—to another: a national educational leader.
That process of transformation is going to be very important to her ability to do her job, and so it's interesting and worthwhile to take note of the various signs of ways in which she is changing. (
Flashes of the spirit, an old professor of mine might have called them.) They suggest that she is either taking to her new identity, her new persona, or not. (In this case, I'd say, yes, she is—and that's probably a good thing for Harvard.)
Are they the most important ways in which she is changing? Probably not. But they are significant; they reflect her own self-consciousness about the demands of the leadership role she now has. She is playing a part, and the part demands a costume. When one reviews a play, does one not remark upon the wardrobe? There is no difference.
Remember, for example, that powerful scene in Elizabeth when Cate Blanchett acknowledges her transformation from
an ordinary woman into the Queen of England by painting her face thick with white make-up? Is it so terrible to point out the parallels as another woman ascends to another throne?
The degree is different, the principle the same. One must look the part one is chosen to play, if one wishes to play it well.
A community of scholars—scholars, not cheerleaders—should not be so anxious about the delineation of transformation. If you are blind to these changes, you may one day be blindsided by them.
