Shots in the Dark

As mentioned below, Larry Summers is in Utah skiing this holiday weekend.

Doesn’t much sound like him, does it? So let’s consider what this really means. Possibilities include:

1) This ski weekend was long-planned and Summers saw no point in canceling it.

2) Summers is under a lot of pressure and hastily decided to get away from campus. Which would be understandable.

3) Summers is pulling a Washington move, trying to look relaxed and above the fray by going on vacation.

4) Summers is giving Harvard a raised middle finger to the effect of, “Do what you want, I’m outta here.”

Option #1 is what Summers’ apologists John Longbrake and Steve Hyman are selling. That argument is complicated by the fact that Summers blew off a meeting with the Institute of Politics fellows and an announcement with the mayor of Boston regarding Allston developments.

The IOP meeting suggests that Mass Hall is really, really screwed up right now. These people can not get their stories straight.

According to one IOP fellow who e-mailed the Crimson, “We were told he had a meeting that ran long.”

Which turned out to mean that Summers had already gone skiing. (Evidence of option #4, to my mind.) Which means that someone just lied to the IOP.

The existence of that excuse does suggest that Summers was planning on going to the meeting until he decided to go skiing. (Options 2, 3 and 4.)

If the ski trip was long-planned, why was the IOP meeting on Summers’ schedule at all?

“I made the mistake,” Summers’ spokesman John Longbrake told the Crimson.

Huh. So the president’s press secretary is also his scheduler? I don’t think so.

Longbrake needs to be very careful lest he join the long list of people whose integrity and career have suffered after close professional association with Larry Summers. He’s clearly falling on his sword , trying to take responsibility for Summers’ apparently last-minute decision to blow off the K-School meeting by claiming it was a scheduling snafu.

Longbrake has had good relations with the press by trying to be forthcoming and not trying to spin the unspinnable, as his predecessor, Lucie McNeil, did. (McNeil’s once-promising career: severely damaged by working for Summers.)

Don’t ruin it now, John. When this mess is all over, no one’s going to remember that you were loyal to Summers—except, perhaps, the people who don’t like him—and you’ll have to live with the fact that you compromised yourself.

Steve Hyman, who says that Summers was not at the Allston event because the timing of it was dictated by Mayor Tom Menino’s schedule, is too far gone to be saved. That excuse is laughable—not least because Summers and Menino don’t much care for each other, and Harvard wouldn’t want to snub the mayor by, say, calling him up and saying that Larry Summers can’t come to a joint announcement because he’s in Utah skiing.

A year ago, Summers checked out of the curricular review. Is he now doing the same with Allston?

More evidence of option #4…

Which, don’t get me wrong, is far from a sign that Summers plans to resign. More likely he’s daring Harvard to fire him….. Does Summers have something on members of the Corporation? Something that he’s threatening to leak, if he’s not happy with the outcome of this controversy?

Well, maybe not for Harvard president Lawrence Summers. While he was off in Utah skiing—more on that later—the big three of relevant newspapers discovered that the Corporation is alive! Yes! Alive, I say!

Daniel Golden in the Wall Street Journal was the first to report that members of the Corporation have been engaging professors in conversation about possible scenarios involving a Summers resignation.

(Golden is an aggressive reporter with a nose for news; it is not good news for Larry Summers that he is now working this story.)

On the 19th, Marcella Bombardieri at the Globe weighed in with a piece titled “Harvard board said to weigh Summers’s fate.”

(Can we please have all newspaper style desks agree to ban the “s’s” formulation? It’s archaic and ugly—just try to pronounce it. “Summers’ fate” is just fine.)

Over at the Times, Alan Finder produces the weakest story of the bunch, “Board Said to Be Seeking Faculty Views on Harvard President.” His piece appears to be dependent upon a single anonymous source.

Online, insidehighered.com weighs in with a round-up of its own.

A few thoughts on what we can glean from these collected pieces.

The active board members are Nan Keohane and Robert Reischauer; treasurer James Rothenberg also gets a mention. Jamie Houghton is reportedly engaged, but not as visibly. Robert Rubin is nowhere to be seen. Patricia King is not yet a member of the Corporation.

Isn’t it interesting that the Corporation members who seem most concerned about the future of Harvard are the ones who happen to be academics, rather than businessmen?

So…what does it mean that they are talking with professors? It could mean very little; if the Corporation were not so insanely secretive, one would think, “Well, of course they’re talking with the faculty? How could they not?” But given the traditional aloofness of the Corporation, the mere fact that they are talking with the faculty is news.

If the leaks were coming from around the Corporation, I’d say that the Corporation itself was trying to ramp up the pressure on Summers. But they don’t seem to be.

There’s another way in which these conversations seem important; they didn’t take place a year ago. At least, not in the same manner, a real listening process. Suggesting that the Corporation is taking this most recent uproar more seriously than it did last year’s, and realizes that it can’t just sit back and do nothing—again.

A couple of thoughts on Bob Rubin.

His silence—his absence—are provocative. Is he such a stalward ally of Summers’ that he is derelect in his responsiblities to Harvard? That’s a possibility.

It’s also possible that any conversations by Rubin, who was essential to Summers’ becoming president, would be instantly leaked and parsed for signs of what Summers’ reportedly most loyal supporter is really thinking. Even the mere existence of such conversations would be taken as an ominous sign for Summers.

I can’t help but thinking that Rubin will have to play an important part in this before it’s all over.

Two guesses:

1) When the Corporation sends an emissary to Summers to say, “Larry, it’s time to go,” it will be Bob Rubin.

2) It will also be Bob Rubin who will set up Larry Summers with a lucrative Wall Street job, announced a month or so after his resignation, that will ease the sting for Summers. The Harvard president is, by most standards, a rich man…but compared to what he could be making in Manhattan, he’s a pauper. Spinning his departure as a defeat by the radical left-wing nuts of academia, Summers will become a hero on the Street, where his arrogance will once again be mistaken for brilliance and his salary will jump by a factor of 25 to 50.

The question is, what happens to Lisa New? When Summers moves to New York, will she resign her Harvard tenure? Thus becoming yet another person closely associated with Summers whose professional career has suffered as a result? Or can Bob Rubin finagle her a position at Columbia—doubtful, as Columbia president Lee Bollinger has no love for Summers, or Harvard, which should have chosen him in the first place—or NYU?

Harvard Vice President and General Counsel Robert W. Iuliano has written Institutional Investor magazine to stress something he feels David McClintick’s article on the Shleifer scandal did not make clear: that Larry Summers recused himself from Harvard’s handling of the scandal “from the outset of his presidency at Harvard.”

According to the Crimson, “the letter also says Summers did not participate in ‘judgements regarding whether, when or how Harvard should review the conduct of employees involved in the HIID project.'”

Without having read the letter, which the Crimson only excerpts, I don’t want to say that Iuliano is wrong. And of course he’s a very sharp and ethical guy, so I’m sure that what he’s saying is legally accurate.

But from what I hear, Iuliano is being misleading at best. My sources say that Larry Summers was constantly talking with Andrei Shleifer, discussing Shleifer’s legal problems, from at least the time that Summers became known as a candidate for the presidency of Harvard. Shleifer—one of Summers’ biggest advocates for the presidency—was apparently confident that, as president, Summers could and would make Harvard adopt a legal strategy supportive of Shleifer. Those conversations did not stop after Summers was named president.

Note, of course, that Iuliano writes that Summers recused himself “from the outset of his presidency at Harvard.” That is interesting language. What exactly does “outset” mean? Does it mean when he was first named president, in March of that year? Or when he was legally named president, in July? Or when he was sworn in, in October 2001? Or just some time roughly around when Larry Summers started his presidency. Who knows?

“Outset” is a useful term because it sounds specific on first reading, and on closer consideration it reveals itself to be so vague as to be virtually meaningless…and in my dealings with lawyers, it’s my impression that vagueness is not unintentional.

Here’s an interesting question that Iuliano doesn’t raise: What connection did Larry Summers’ friendship with Andrei Shleifer have to do with the ouster of Harvard general counsel Ann Taylor (Iuliano’s predecessor) in June 2002?

Did Andrei Shleifer ever urge Larry Summers to fire Taylor as a precursor to changing Harvard’s legal strategy? Did Summers ever discuss with Shleifer the best way to force Taylor out? And wouldn’t firing the architect of Harvard’s legal strategy be considered involving oneself with the legal disposition of the Shleifer scandal?

(And if so, should not Iuliano recuse himself from any involvement in or comment upon the Shleifer scandal, given that Taylor’s departure resulted in his promotion?)

If the alumni class action lawsuit ever gets the chance to happen, these would be interesting questions to ask Larry Summers while he is under oath.

Because ostensibly that would keep him from lying.

The Shleifer scandal is ugly business…but sooner or later, the truth will come out. And Harvard will be be better off for it.

Veritas. Right?

…the Faculty Council called for a halt in the FAS dean search. This is a dramatic step, but if you think about it, it’s also a logical step. How could any dean possibly be chosen in the current atmosphere? After all, many people on the faculty don’t think that Larry Summers will be president for much longer. So what would be the point in working with him to choose a dean he could work with? And who would take a job working with Summers suspecting that Summers is about to leave and his successor might promptly choose a new dean?

It’s nuts…and the decision to call for a halt to the process shows that the faculty gets this, even if Larry Summers and the Corporation don’t.

Nonetheless, it’s a dramatic move that shows how the current crisis really is paralyzing the university. And if you think that the faculty isn’t getting any work done, you can imagine that Mass Hall isn’t exactly a beehive of productivity these days. And I wonder how that fundraising stuff is going?

In an accompanying Crimson article, Lois Beckett and Johannah Cornblatt write that the “Summers storm could sidetrack the [curricular] review,” which surely falls into the category of stating the obvious.

The last two paragraphs of the story carry what seems to me like the real news value—this quote:

<<“I think with Kirby resigning, the future is very much up in the air,” said Johnstone Family Professor of Psychology Steven Pinker, a member of the review’s Committee on General Education. Pinker said that he and some of his colleagues aren’t disappointed by the review’s derailment. “Frankly, I wouldn’t shed any tears if it didn’t pass,” Pinker said. >>

Pinker might just as well have poured gasoline on the review and tossed a match on it. He helped write the thing, and even he can’t support it.

Of course, if he wouldn’t shed any tears if it didn’t pass, why should it make any difference whether Bill Kirby was remaining dean or not?

The answer that, with Kirby or without him, it’s a lousy review, and Harvard should just accept that and move on.

And Crimson folks—when you get a quote like that from an architect of the review and one of Larry Summers’ most vocal supporters (well, at least he used to be)—that’s your second paragraph, not your second-to-last. IMHO, anyway.

Marcella Bombardieri has a fascinating piece—and one sure to be a big problem for Larry Summers—in today’s Globe.

Bombardieri got former Harvard graduate school dean Peter Ellison, who resigned the position a year ago, to talk on the record about what it was like to work for Larry Summers. And the answer? Not pretty.

Ellison recounts two damning anecdotes.

The first is the story of a meeting between the two men in which Summers suggested moving some funds from a sociology program to the Kennedy School.

According to Ellison, ”President Summers asked me, didn’t I agree that, in general, economists are smarter than political scientists, and political scientists are smarter than sociologists? To which I laughed nervously and didn’t reply.”

The second story is more damaging still. After a meeting in which Summers undercut Ellison’s authority over a question related to the granting of Ph.D’s, Ellison offered his resignation to Summers. (That’s what you’re supposed to do when you feel you can no longer do your job.) Summers claimed that the incident had been a misunderstanding and promised to send a letter to the meeting participants saying so.

The letter was never sent. And later, at a faculty meeting, Summers was asked if the issue in question had ever been discussed. He lied; he said no.

Some thoughts.

About the second episode…If you look at my Harvard quiz below, you’ll see that this episode isn’t the first time that Summers has reneged upon a promise. I’m sure there are other examples. Freel free to post them.

Nor is it the first time he’s lied. One example that comes to mind: Saying that he didn’t know enough about the Shleifer scandal to have an opinion on it. I’m sure there are other examples; feel free to post them.

I don’t mean to sound flip about this, because these are things that I actually take quite seriously. Harvard has a president who can not be trusted to keep his word and lies. This a big deal, and the Corporation’s ongoing tolerance of it is a mystery to me.

At the boarding school I attended, there were just three cardinal rules: No lying, cheating or stealing. If you broke any one of those rules, you’d soon be attending a different school. You certainly didn’t think you could be president of Harvard.

About the economists being smarter thing…. Well, of course, Summers believes this, and anyone who’s had any dealings with him at all can hear the words coming out of his mouth. It’s actually unfortunate (though understandable) that Ellison didn’t call him on it. Summers might well have backed down. That’s what bullies do, when people stand up to them.

The larger point is, Why make such a statement anyway? It’s deliberately picking a fight. It reminds me of Robert Conrad in those old Energizer commercials. “Go ahead. Knock it off. I dare you.”

(C.f. Harvard Rules, page 147: “The president grew conspicuously more interested in his environment whenever an element of competition was introduced.”)

Forgive me for being crude, but..it’d be hard not to come out of such a meeting thinking to yourself, What an asshole….

I mean, wouldn’t that be the typical human response? Why would Larry Summers not get that?

Will the Harvard president resign on or before June 30th?

One website, Tradesports.com, is taking bets on just that question….

Somebody might want to tell Jamie Houghton. I’d give you his e-mail, except—oh, wait—the senior fellow of the Harvard Corporation isn’t actually listed in the Harvard directory.

Am I the only person who finds this bizarre?

Fifteen Minutes, the Crimson’s weekend magazine, publishes an interview with Judith Ryan today. (Ryan is, of course, the professor who has put the no-confidence motion on the agenda for the 2/28 faculty meeting.)

If I didn’t know better, I’d say that the questions were written by the Crimson’s pro-Summers editorial board.

And not just the questions; the article’s subhead reads, “The thoughts of a malcontent professor.”

That’s an interesting word, malcontent. It means “dissatisfied” or “rebellious.” Ryan is certainly the former; I’m not sure that standing up for the interests of the faculty makes her rebellious. In any case, malcontent clearly carries a negative, unflattering connotation, and I think it’s a loaded word to use to describe her, especially in a headline.

Some of the questions are equally loaded. Rather than asking what Ryan thinks the second motion of no-confidence might achieve that the first didn’t, questioner Sam Teller asks, “Don’t you think it’s Summers’ right to continue working until he resigns or is fired by the Corporation?”

As if to imply that professors should just sit back and let the Corporation take care of everything. After all, to quote a certain Crimson editorial, they are “ultimately employees.”

Teller then asks, “How much should the opinion of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences (FAS) matter, given that the rest of the University—the majority of the University—hasn’t experienced any sort of similar uproar?”

This is, of course, almost verbatim from the Crimson’s pro-Summers editorial. The implication, of course, is that the FAS opinion is basically unimportant.

A little later on, Teller asks, “Some Summers supporters have described the Faculty as ‘drunk with power.’ How would you respond?”

I’ve been following this issue pretty closely, and I haven’t seen anyone use those words. Could Teller be using the old, “I’ve got a hyperbolic phrase I want to use, but I don’t want to be the one saying it, so I’ll just put it in the mouths of ‘some people'”?

In addition to “malcontent,” Teller also describes Ryan as “radical,” “confrontational,” says she “must enjoy seeing her name in the big papers,” asks if she feels “qualified” to be “leading the charge,” and wonders what it took to “push [her] over the edge.”

Go ahead, Sam—why don’t you ask Professor Ryan if she’s any good at science and math?

For her part, Ryan handles this pretty graciously. But the Crimson really needs to be more careful about showing its biases. Is the faculty “drunk with power”—or is Sam Teller just drunk?

And Teller seems to be forgetting the most important point of all here: Unlike anyone associated with Mass Hall, unlike anyone on or associated with the Corporation, Judith Ryan is speaking to the press, speaking to the community. Maybe she’s doing that not because she “must enjoy seeing her name in the big papers,” but because she feels she has a responsiblity to do that, particularly in a university community where the freedom of speech and open exchange of ideas should be valued above all else.

If that makes her a “malcontent,” then let us hope that Harvard produces more such rebels.

A newspaper reporter should value such willingness to speak one’s mind, rather than suggesting that it is bizarre and irresponsible.

Wow! University treasurer James Rothenberg gave an interview to the Crimson yesterday. Rothenberg is the first member of the Corporation to say a word in public about the crisis and controversy gripping Harvard, also known as a $30-billion 501(c)3 non-profit institution. In his interview, Rothenberg explicitly addressed questions about Larry Summers’ future, the firing of Bill Kirby, the Andrei Shleifer scandal, the Harvard AIDS scandal, the Davos incident, and rumors that Harvard has deliberately overstated donor contributions.

Rothenberg further explained that as a member of the board of directors of a massive non-profit, tax-free institution, he felt a moral responsibility to speak clearly and publicly to the members of the Harvard community, as well as the press. “If the Corporation is to retain any of its moral legitimacy, it must deal with the current situation in a candid and public way,” Rothenberg said.

Oh…no. Wait. I’m sorry.

Rothenberg actually spoke about some money he gave Harvard for hiring new professors. (I’m sure it’s just a coincidence that this news was announced now, as more and more professors grow furious with the Corporation.) He didn’t really say that whole thing about the Corporation being moral and candid.

Silly me. Never mind!

Was Dick Cheney looped when he shot his friend, 78-year-old Jack Whittington, in the face? Until yesterday, participants in the Whittington shoot-off had denied there was any alcohol consumed before the hunt. Katherine Armstrong, whose family owns the ranch where the slaughter—excuse me, hunt—took place, insisted that the hunting party drank Dr. Pepper at lunch.

Well, that’s a dead giveaway that she’s not being completely honest. Because no one drinks Dr. Pepper.

Dick Cheney has now confessed that he had a beer. Since Cheney would never lie or mislead the press, I have total confidence that that one beer was the only alcoholic beverage consumed by the party of Texas hunters. They were only bloodthirsty, you see.

The news at Harvard has been keeping me so busy, I’ve barely had time to make fun of Dick Cheney. (Apparently others have filled the gap.)

But I do like this animated hunting game in which the player (you!) gets a lesson in how not to hunt quail….

I also like this Humane Society piece about “canned hunting,” in which hundreds of farm-bred birds are released so macho men like Dick Cheney can kill them. (Well, try to kill them.)

I’m not a hunter, but this practice—which makes it virtually impossible to miss the birds, unless, of course, you shoot a 78-year-old man in the face—seems less than challenging. Less than macho. Why, it’s more gay than the gay cowboys from Brokeback Mountain—who actually are quite macho—if you know what I mean.

And given that there’s really not much skill involved—basically, all you have to do is avoid shooting a 78-year-old man in the face—the fact that Cheney does this all the time raises the disturbing suggestion that the vice-president likes to shoot overfed, confused animals for pleasure….which is a little sick, don’t you think?