Tuning in to Time-Outs

When granting Faculty paid leave, the University must strike a careful balance. Everyone wins when professors are given time to devote themselves to important research and stave off burnout before returning to regular teaching—everyone, that is, except the undergraduate students who are unable to study under them. With a well-crafted leave policy, this wouldn’t be a problem; though there would always be professors absent from the community at any given time, the vast majority would still be enriching Harvard by teaching undergraduates. Under such a system, no more than a few professors in any field would be simultaneously missing from the classroom.

Unfortunately, under the less restrictive leave policy instituted by Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences William C. Kirby in December, such regulation has been forgotten. Consequently, the English department is likely to experience a scheduling nightmare next year as 15 of the department’s 35 professors flee the Yard for at least one semester in what can only be described as a mass exodus.

This is regrettable. It was also entirely foreseeable.

There is nothing wrong with the essence of Kirby’s new leave policy. Indeed, it was a commendable effort to keep Harvard vital and competitive with other top universities, many of which have similarly liberal leave policies—making them unduly attractive to prospective faculty. But back in December, it was painfully clear to many at the University that without any thoughtful limits in place, eager professors would rush en masse to take their leave at the first possible opportunity—leaving at least some departments’ undergraduate students high and dry. Those in power didn’t have to look any further than the current 2002-2003 academic year. An astounding 18 professors were on leave from the history department, even under the original, more restrictive sabbatical policy.

But in introducing the new policy, Kirby failed to set up any kind of coordinative system to prevent the history department’s current predicament from repeating itself more severely—and so English concentrators can look forward to a decimated pool of instructors and thesis advisers. Department Chair Lawrence Buell’s cheery confidence that “a full array of courses” will still be offered next year, despite the absence of nearly half the department’s professors for at least some time, is as unsettling as it is implausible. And though the department should be commended for kicking its hiring program into overdrive in response to the flight, the effort will be too little, too late—and too out of touch with concerns that were voiced months ago.

It would be unreasonable to expect the administration never to enact policy changes that then seem unwise to undergraduate observers. But it is only fair to expect Kirby to pay attention when those observers make common-sense objections that have simple solutions. As a result of a foolish, avoidable mistake, a perfectly good policy will be overshadowed by the practical mayhem it produces. Too many professors taking leave are going to rain on next year’s parade—and it’s hard not to blame Kirby for ignoring the forecast.