Master and Commander

It takes more than a set of balls to cast a ballot.

First off, we want to apologize for our absence these past few weeks, but we have been up to our navels with our theses and job interviews. Well, DA has decided to drop his thesis and Peter found a great bargain on collegepapers.com, so that’s taken care of. Plus, we finally found a new president for Harvard, so that’s over and not a moment too soon; if we ever see the inside of Loeb House again, we’re running away to Connecticut and starting over. We don’t want to comment on the final choice yet; we have an entire semester to rant about that. Rather we’d like to talk about what we learned probing candidates with brain teasers and trust falls. Obviously, Drew Faust couldn’t support our combined weight, but we forgave her because she’s a you-know-what.



We want to talk to you about leadership. This wasn’t a topic we are unfamiliar with. DA became a leader while mom was waiting tables and he was managing thirteen siblings in that 18 foot Winnebago. You might be wondering where DA’s dad was during all this. That man did not know much about leadership, and we’ll keep it at that. And Peter learned from his father that it’s best to have your bowel movements in the morning because you can save on toilet paper by popping a quick handstand in the shower. You don’t see what that has to do with leadership? Well that’s just another reason you are not on the Harvard Corporation.



We also learned from the great leaders all around us, who face tough choices and make the right decisions. Look at NBA Commissioner David Stern, implementing a strict, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy. Then there’s Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney, pushing to legalize polygamy in the commonwealth. Or even our own Dean Gross electing to give Peter “just one more chance.” Brilliant tacticians all of them, Solomon Amendment be damned.



We’ll tell you straight off that it takes more than a penis to lead a Fortune 500 company, fight a war, or run an institution of higher learning. You need a room filled with penises, all shapes and sizes, usually several rooms. But that’s just for intimidation purposes. Loeb House is perfectly suited for this, with glory holes Swiss cheesing all of its walls and boardroom tables. This setup makes voting on the Corporation really easy; boners for “yea,” limpies for “nay.” That’s why women aren’t allowed on the Corporation; nothing would ever get done.



Luckily, presidents don’t need to vote, they just need to make choices. As a historian, Drew Faust has plenty of experience making choices, like when she omitted slavery from her expansive chronicle of 19th century southern plantation economies. At least, that’s how we read it. We welcome new and exciting perspectives like this to the Harvard scene. It’s with a sad heart that we bid farewell to Derek C. Bok, but he’ll keep busy as the third co-author of this illustrious column for the remainder of the year.