Ross G. Douthat

Latest Content

Douthat Responds To Crimson Staff Editorial

I’d like to thank the editors for their kind attention to my criticisms of Harvard’s curriculum, which appear in the


The Final Column

Ever since my first Harvard spring, when I was still a bashful, beardless freshman, I’ve cultivated a passionate dislike for


The Enchanted World

Here is some useful wisdom: If you happen to be a God-fearing Harvard Christian, and you (like me) have a


Israel in Darkness

Human beings require hope, even in seasons of darkness. We survive on the belief that today’s nightmare will be redeemed


Learning to Love Garth Brooks

Two weeks ago, I earned my first-ever speeding ticket. It was an educational experience: I learned, for instance, that police


Albert Speer at Harvard

In 1937, as part of a program of academic exchange with German universities, Harvard named Albert Speer as a visiting


Suzanne Pomey's Harvard

Everyone has their own story about Suzanne M. Pomey ’02, the well-known Winthrop senior accused of stealing a hefty chunk


Let Us Now Praise Cornel West

There are many marvelous professors here at Harvard, many glittering luminaries of the academic world. But there is, alas, only


Send In the Clones

Last week, amid much fanfare, a company called Advanced Cell Technology announced that they had successfully cloned a human embryo.


Pointing Us Nowhere

One of the fringe benefits of being the president of a major university, one supposes, is that one no longer


The Harvard Syndrome

Last winter, I had dinner with my parents and two of my roommates at Legal Seafood in Kendall Square. During


The Ideology of Our Enemies

We are not at war with Islam , we have been told repeatedly by pundits and preachers and the President


The Moment of Truth

Historical analogies are a ticklish business, especially when they are proposed while a fine, cruel dust still blankets the desolation


McVeigh and the 'Problem' of Evil

Maybe I’m the only person in America who’s sick of Timothy McVeigh’s long-chinned mug. It certainly seems that way, now


Killing Time

I died last Friday. It happened just outside my doorway, in the long carpeted expanse of New Quincy’s third-floor hallway.