Harvard Should Be a “Public” University

Harvard is elite, but it need not be elitist.

As its critics are quick to point out, Harvard is exceptionally wealthy and exclusive. With a $56.9 billion endowment and a sub-five percent acceptance rate for its undergraduate program, it is factually questionable to defend Harvard against the accusations of elitism. At the same time, we should laud Harvard for its aim of being the best a university can be, and that pursuit can require both wealth and exclusivity. What matters, however, is whether the power it holds is put to good use.

Harvard, instead, should be a “public” university — in a broader sense of the term. As a university of exceptional wealth and influence, it should treat upholding and advocating for the independence of the University from political influence as its civic duty.

In its typical sense, a public university is one that is funded by the taxpayers. Along with its funding comes a distinct obligation: A public university is bound to serve as a university for the people.

This does not mean that a public university cannot look like Harvard by the numbers; across the country, many public institutions have low acceptance rates and large endowments. It does mean, however, that publicly funded institutions are accountable to the public interest.

This stands in sharp contrast with private institutions. A private Catholic university may make the promotion of the Christian faith and religious values its central mission. A private liberal arts college may make knowledge of the great books of the Western canon its priority, and so on.

Of course, those who control private institutions presumably think that their endeavors do good not only for their students but for the world. But unlike public universities, private institutions have wider latitude to ground their definition of the public good in terms of particular religious, intellectual, or cultural traditions.

A public university, on the other hand, is ultimately answerable to both officials and voters. Public universities are, in this sense, democratic institutions. This is both their most admirable and most dangerous trait.

The democratic nature of public universities makes them liable to being captured by ideologues who hold political power. Recently, at the University of Florida, a public institution, political appointees overruled the university leadership’s choice of president for his support of diversity initiatives. Similarly, the University of Arkansas rescinded the offer of a deanship to Emily Suski after state legislators exerted pressure on university officials over an amicus brief she submitted in support of transgender athletes.

Whether these personnel decisions were merited is a separate question; the concern here is that they were shaped by external political pressure rather than the university’s own, unburdened deliberation.

In ideal circumstances, universities, more than most institutions, serve as bastions of free speech and thought — even with respect to overtly political topics. Yet, current events suggest such a role is not possible for state universities, whose dependence on the state renders them incapable of being independent of political forces.

That is why Harvard must be “public” in another sense of the word. To be public is not merely to be state-run, but to act as a steward of a shared social good: Harvard must insulate the university from political pressure because it can do what higher education in a free country requires.

The legal independence, private wealth, and stature of private institutions shields them from government coercion. In an era when the independence of public universities is threatened, private — and particularly, elite — institutions must commit even more strongly to independence, both as a matter of research and institutional practices, as well as in their role as voices for the independence of public and private universities across the country.

Harvard is “elite,” but only an elite institution with ample coffers and the stature of the nation’s oldest university can defend higher education everywhere.

Allison P. Farrell ’26, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Philosophy concentrator in Leverett House.