Severe penalties, on the other hand, would have alienated a significant portion of the faculty who sympathized with the demonstration. In a body like the Harvard faculty which avoids consistently divisive controversy and normally operates on consensus, such a division would have been remarkable; it was not a step to be taken lightly. Nor were the sympathetic faculty members simply junior men who were both angrier and less distinguished than their older colleagues. Eight senior professors had visited Glimp two daysafter the demonstration. In addition, the morning of the faculty meeting, 20 tenured members of the faculty signed an open advertisement in the Crimson declaring their sympathy for the demonstrators. These men were taking the Dow demonstration very seriously—so seriously, in fact, that a number of them actually caucused before the faculty meeting, a rare acknowledgment of the political process at Harvard. Many faculty members identified with neither pole of opinion (“Kick the bums out,” or “Give the heroes medals”) found ample reason to be troubled. Instinctively repelled by the demonstration itself, they could, because of their own dislike for the war or their own regard for faculty and students who had allied themselves with the demonstrators, support some sort of leniency. Furthermore, the draft also worked for leniency. Students, if dis- missed, would soon be called up by Selective Service, and how could any faculty members who claimed to hate the war send Harvard men to the army or jail in good conscience? Student sentiment was equally muddied. The issue was not as simple as Supporting or damning the Dow sit-in itself. The war colored all, and hate of it united many students who were indifferent to the specific act of protest. At the demonstration, some students handed in their identification cards out of simple disgust for the war; others surrendered the cards to protect the protesters. The war, for growing num- bers of them, was something that could not be sidestepped. The power that moved students was described, perhaps exaggerated, by Crimson writer James Glassman as he discussed the decline of the Harvard “cool-liberal” political ethic: Harvard cool-liberalism means the good old basic beliefs in equality and civil rights ..- [The] lack of passion keeps you clean. Student politics is farcical. It is left to former Midwestern student council presi1292 This is not the mood ofall students; it is probably not an enduring mood for students had signed a petition reaffirming university policy on free speech and recruiting but asking for leniency. A mass meeting of more than 800 students, held the night before the faculty meeting, seemed to make the samepoint. The possibility that stiff penalties would have provoked more demonstrations and an uncontrollable polarization on campus could not be dismissed. Thus, perhaps the most interesting result to emerge from the Dow episode was Harvard’s unconscious acknowledgment, base —simple majorities—are not very useful guides for making decisions when a minority is sufficiently aroused. The Administrative Board did not escape the Dow incident unscathed. When it rejected the plea for “coilective responsibility,” the Board had to dents. There are causes and camses. Issues come and go. You cluck your tongue or nod your head. Eisenhower was dull and stupid: Kennedy had style, you know; the Cuban invasion was bad... . And so on. Many of us don’t sign petitions because, well, what of our political careers and all? But passion, which is a dirty word from the Freshman Mixer to the Class Marshall Elections, has reared its dread head. We are being forced to be passionate or, if we choose not, to be anti-intellectual or perhaps immoral or perhaps wrong. most. But it is a mood that grips many students for the moment; as the war grinds on, the guilt of having been once “for” it, or of having done nothing to stop or protest it, will swell in strength. At Harvard, this instinct was strong enough to give the demonstrators a wide of student support, even from many students who thoughtthesit-in, of andbyitself, undesirable. Two considerations reputedly convinced many members of the Administrative Board to opt for probation, not severance, First, the students, by and large, seemed to realize that the demon- stration was not appropriate; thus, what the Board had to do was to makeits action strong enough to be an effective warning yet not seek vengeance on the students. Second, the wamings given after the McNamara incident were said to be sufficiently vague to warrant the less severe action. Were these conclusions actually true, or were they simply sophisticated rationalizations on which the Board could base its actions? That depends on who is doing the talking; in truth, there was probably a bit of each. Classifying student opinion is as difficult as classifying any other body of opinion. Only one poll was taken during the week-long episode; it showed that, in one of Har- vard’s eight residential Houses, 10 percent favored severance for those who had obstructed Leavitt’s departure; 10 percent wanted no action at all; 50 percent supported probation or admonition for all those who had blocked the doorway; and about 25 percent favored admonition for anyone who had turned in his identification card. With feelings running as they were, severance could, in fact, have been incendiary. The campus chapter of Students for a Democratic Society, whose members had been instrumental in starting the Dow sit-in (though the chapter had slipped into the background in the subsequent uproar) would probably not have remained quiet. But many others were also agitated. Nine hundred in its official actions, that numbers alone select those students who, it was con- vinced, were actively involved in the sit-in. In so doing, it opened itself to charges of arbitrariness and capriciousness; these problems generated numerous complaints and some good newspaper copy. But, as one tutor remarked, “People were surprised by the number of people put on ‘pro,’ but no one cared, because no one got kicked out. Three hundred people could have been put on ‘pro.’” After the faculty meeting, talk of the Dow incident died of exhaustion; the emotions generated by the controversy could not be sustained. But the event had its sequel. At the faculty meeting, Stanley Hoffmann, professor of government, proposed the creation of a student-faculty committee, the first in the college’s history, to study issues of the university’s relationship with the war. The administration’s reaction to the proposal seems to reflect its uneasiness over the Dow incident and its eagerness to satisfy faculty and student critics. Without waiting for a full faculty vote, Franklin L. Ford, dean of the faculty, has acted to get the committee going and, in fact, has given it a student majority. No one really knows what the committee will do. Jt may become bogged down in petty matters of procedure, or, alternatively, at least look into a number of areas involving the university and the war. These include: e Recruiting. By lending its facilities to companies and government agencies that aid the war effort, the university, it is charged, implicitly endorses the war. Should the university cease to permit such recruiting on its own property? Most students and faculty recognize a distinction between recruiting, which 4 - SCIENCE, VOL, 158