A Vague Order of Eminence

HARVARD'S OFFICIAL RULES governing the selection of tenured professors are straight-toward: "These lifetime professorial appointments are reserved for scholars of the first order of eminence." That Harvard wants the very best is a valid, even noble, aim--in theory. But by conducting its search for the paragons of academia at the expense of its junior faculty, Harvard denies itself the probable top scholars of the future. And in deciding not to tenure many of them, Harvard often treats its junior faculty members destructively and unfairly.

Last week's decision by the Sociology Department not to recommend Theda R. Skocpol, associate professor of Sociology, for a tenured position is the latest example. Because of Skocpol's stature in the field, Sociology's decision seems inexplicable in many ways. Last summer, she received two prestigious awards for her book; students and colleagues consider her an excellent and concerned teacher; and four universities--which house some of the top sociology departments in the country--want her to join their faculties.

But the Sociology Department decided--by a five-five vote with one abstention (a candidate must receive the overwhelming endorsement of the department to be recommended for tenure)--that it did not want Skocpol in its tenured ranks. Although Sociology includes no tenured women faculty members, several departmental sources--both supporters and opponents of Skocpol--insisted the decision not to keep her had nothing to do with sex bias. Rather, those who opposed her did so because they disagreed with her comparative approach to the discipline and felt it would steer the department in a direction they did not want it to go. Sources also said that some opponents simply did not like Skocpol's "strong" personality.

Those reasons apply specifically to the Skocpol case. The last explanation--and the one that relates the recent decision in Sociology to the larger problem of how the tenure system treats associate professors--is that some professors in the department thought Skocpol had not sufficiently established herself in the field--by Harvard standards. She has not, to use the language of the tenure guidelines, attained the lofty heights "reserved for scholars of the first order of eminence."

FACULTY members and administrators regularly cite that reason to explain why Harvard's associate professors in the social sciences and humanities almost never receive promotions to tenured positions. Harvard demands proven excellence in its scholars; excellence takes a long time to prove; as a result, young scholars (in their 30s) rarely have had sufficient time to demonstrate the outstanding qualities that Harvard seeks. Science departments can more easily tenure young academics, the reasoning goes, because their rising stars usually make names for themselves early in their careers. In essence, the tenure system here has been a non-risk business.

As a result of that policy, Harvard's departments maintain, for the most part, excellent faculties. Because quality remains high, Harvard assumes the system must be working. In a sense, that's true. But in thinking that way, the University ignores some serious problems in Harvard's tenure process--deficiencies that demand the faculty's attention.

The secretive aspect of the system often gives the impression that decisions are made using unfair criteria--such as gender--particularly when departments recommend against promotion for their own associate professors. Because the "first order of eminence" guidelines are vague and because the senior faculty members who take part in departmental tenure votes discuss those decisions about as readily as the government provides top secret military information to the Kremlin, rejected junior faculty members often have only a hazy, idea of why their departments didn't want them. In the Skocpol decision, for example, James A. Davis, chairman of the Sociology Department, declined to provide any justification for the decision, saying only that the 11 professors who participated all had their own reasons for doing what they did.

Watching departments dump colleague after colleague can't help but demoralize junior faculty members, despite their foreknowledge that Harvard's assistant/associate-professor road leads nowhere. While departments are generally honest with their junior faculty members about the dismal chances for promotion, it's only natural for scholars to hope that they are the exception--and to be disappointed or even bitter when they are not.

THE CRITERIA THEMSELVES, although they succeed in producing a high quality faculty, could become a major problem in the near future. Most departments operate now on the assumption that if they have a position available, they will be able to find a renowned scholar to fill it. That may become harder to do, however, as universities intensify their competition for top scholars; Harvard's allure may dimish in comparison with larger salaries, lighter teaching loads, and other tidbits competing universities might dangle before a sought-after professor.

The tenure question comes down to weighing risks: should a department tenure one of its own professors who may or may not develop into a world-renowned scholar; or should it wait until it finds an established academic and then invite him to join the Faculty? In the past, the latter has proven less risky. But as the academic marketplace for top scholars grows more intense, the scales may tip in favor of the junior faculty risk; and departments must alter their tenure policies and criteria accordingly.