"I write today about the global economic crisis and its implications for us at Harvard."

In what I'm taking as a sign of continuing Impending Doom on the economic front, I received mail from the 3 levels in the hierarchy above me regarding the financial state of Harvard in these tough times. (First from Harvard President Drew Faust which is where the title quote comes from, then the Dean of the Faculty of Arts of Sciences, and then the Dean for the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences.)

Little was given in way of specifics, but the general theme was clear. About 1/2 of Harvard's budget comes from the endowment payout each year. (The curse of a large endowment -- this number is probably higher than most institutions.) While nobody is giving a number for Harvard, the widely quoted statement from Moody's financial research is that endowments will lose about 30% this year. Given that Harvard has been outperforming the market and most other endowments over an extended time period, you can take your guess as to whether our losses will be above or below average. No matter how you do the math, it's not good.

So that means there will be some belt-tightening, and some delays in various plans. Again, very little in the way of specifics, but I'm sure (and Faust's letter suggested) that Harvard's new progressive financial aid program would not be touched. I imagine most everyone is getting similar messages at other institutions, but feel free to share your stories in the comments.

On the Ad Board (A Harvard-centric Post)

The Harvard Crimson had an editorial earlier this week on the Ad Board, the administrative board that implements the rules of the college for undergraduates, and which I served on for a year-and-a-half, ending last June. (I happen to read the Crimson semi-regularly as copies are left in the lounge areas of our building.)

The piece was just so over-the-top negative, and blatantly factually wrong (it's hard to find a stated fact in the text that is actually correct), that it makes this season's political ads look good by comparison. So I took it upon myself to respond.

I suppose only my Harvard readers might care about this, but here's the editorial, and the text of my response is below. We'll see next week if the Crimson publishes it.

UPDATE: The Crimson did print my letter here. (It changed a few things, making it shorter and a bit more generic, but the spirit is there.) Also, since it seems from the comments that many people are simply uninformed, let me point to the Student Guide for the Ad Board; I'd encourage people with questions (or complaints) to read that first, as it gives a lot of detail about how the Ad Board works.

--------------

Bad Board, No; Bad Editorial, Yes

To the Crimson editorial staff:

Having finished a year-and-a-half of service as a faculty member of the Ad Board last June, I was shocked by the opinion “Bad Board” that appeared in the Crimson on October 22. First, it was simply riddled with factual errors. For example, contrary to your statement that resident deans are “outranked” by the faculty, in fact there are only two or three faculty members on the Ad Board at any time, and over a dozen resident deans; we all get equal votes. Even if we didn’t take the resident deans seriously as you suggest (and we do), they could simply outvote us. As another example, contrary to your statement, in disciplinary cases students are always allowed to present their side of the story, both in written form and by attending an Ad Board meeting, where students can make a statement and, if they choose, respond to questions. I could go on, but there are so many additional factual errors that it would take a letter much longer than the original editorial to go through them all.

Second, your editorial fundamentally misunderstands the Ad Board’s setup and purpose. You complain that students cannot hire an attorney for an Ad Board hearing. That is because the Ad Board is not a legal institution, like a court or the police, but an academic institution, to administrate the rules of the college. The Ad Board’s purpose is fundamentally education, not punishment. As you quote, the Ad Board is “primarily concerned for the educational and personal growth of undergraduates, both as individuals and as members of the Harvard community.” Sometimes, when a rule is broken, a punishment must be given, but we view that as a learning process for the student. Attorneys should not be a part of that learning process, much in the same way you can’t hire a lawyer to complain about or negotiate for a better grade in my class. (Please don’t try.)

Finally, your article includes what I would call errors not of fact but of spirit. You say “rulings are clear before it [the Ad Board] convenes”. That’s a surprise to me, as I regularly spent multiple hours in these meetings each week listening to and deliberating cases. Punishments are not, as you say, “one-size-fits-all”; we discuss the appropriate response for each case, based on the rules of the Faculty and the needs of the individual student. We take seriously both these rules and these needs, with the goal of best serving both the students that come before us and the larger Harvard community.

I understand that, as you say, going before the Ad Board is intimidating and terrifying for a student. They are generally there because there is an accusation that they have broken a rule of the College, and there may be consequences. I know of no system we could possibly set up where that wouldn’t be intimidating and terrifying. But students should know going in that the Ad Board will listen to them, fairly, and that no punishment is given lightly.

Michael Mitzenmacher '91

Professor of Computer Science

Harvard School of Engineering and Applied Sciences

Security Issues in Cambridge

Harvard is getting new ID cards next year, thanks to an ambitious student who apparently figured out how to forge IDs (including a duplicate ID for University President Drew Faust). Because, really, how could using unencrypted ID numbers on the card, and giving access to undergraduate computer user assistants access to all ID numbers, ever lead to a problem? (The student also apparently made fake state driver licenses as well. Who says Harvard students don't learn useful real-world talents?)

Of course, Harvard isn't the only institution in Cambridge where students can obtain skills in the security area. Some MIT students, working under the famous Ron Rivest (the R of RSA!), figured out several flaws with the new ticket system for the Boston subway system, including ways to rewrite tickets so that they have lots of money available on them. So, naturally, the subway system sued to keep them from talking about the flaws at a security conference.

In both cases, the systems seem easily breakable (well, at the least the Harvard IDs were easy, not sure about the subway) with a card writer that can be obtained for a couple hundred bucks.

Of course, I'm not surprised, based on previous experience.

I wonder when organizations that want secure cards will realize that perhaps they ought to ask the students to try to break the system before they deploy it, rather than wait for them to break it after.

Results of the Hiring Season

I've been eagerly awaiting my chance to talk about the results of this year's hiring season for Harvard Computer Science, but wanted to wait until it seemed all the i's were dotted and t's were crossed. I think we're at that stage.

Because of some losses in Computer Science (including Mike Smith and Barbara Grosz being made Deans, of the Faculty and of Radcliffe, respectively) we were really looking to hire this year. Indeed, I think in the end my most important role as chair of the search committee was to make sure that the right people knew that we really wanted to make a lot of offers, and build support for that. The search committee itself was so great that they made the rest of the job (screening, interviewing, and deciding on candidates) relatively easy. Well, OK, it was actually a lot of work. We had hundreds of folders to go through, we interviewed 14 candidates, and because the candidates were so strong, our decisions were challenging. But the committee itself ran smoothly, with everyone really putting in a lot of effort and working to come to agreement. That's one benefit of a smaller department -- we're very collegial about this stuff.

We ended up making six offers. Given the size of Harvard's computer science faculty, this is indeed a lot, and I'm proud of the fact we were able to make the case to our peers in the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences that making this many offers was entirely appropriate. (We were helped, again, by the high quality of candidates.) In the end, we will have three new faculty members:

Yiling Chen works at the economics/computer science interface.
Stephen Chong works on information security and programming languages.
Krzysztof Gajos works on user interfaces and human-computer interaction.

We're all looking forward to their arrivals.

I, personally, feel very good about the outcome, and am pleased the search was successful. I'm of course disappointed that not everyone we made offers to decided to choose us, but I don't think any school manages 100% there. (Quite frankly, I'm sure the Dean would have been somewhat concerned with the logistics if all six had come, but that would have been a problem I'd have been happy to work through and live with.)

I expect Harvard computer science will be continuing to grow in coming years, so when you know of graduates looking for jobs, make sure Harvard is on their radar.

Summer Salary Shift

At Harvard (like most US institutions), Harvard pays us a "9-month" salary; we can earn 3 additional months "summer salary" by various means, including grants. For example, you can use NSF grants to pay up to two months summer salary (the 2 months is an NSF limitation -- the 3rd moth would have to come from somewhere else).

When I arrived at Harvard, I found it a little odd that the 9-month salary was distributed over the 12-month year, but the summer salary was all paid over the summer. What this meant is that if you took 3 months summer salary, say, you got paid almost 1/2 (well, 7/16, I think -- consider this a good word problem for your average high-schooler) of your annual salary over the 3-month summer. But I got used to it.

This summer it appears the practice is changing, with summer salary now being set to be distributed over the 12-month financial year. There is some nominal loss (for me and other faculty), in that the money we were going to get paid this summer will now be paid over the 2008-2009 academic year, costing us potential interest. I'm actually also concerned about what havoc this could eventually play with taxes, although with any luck there will be nothing significant. I suppose I'll get used to this as well, but I don't see it as a good thing.

Inside sources have suggested to me that this is part of a move to better keep up with compliance issues for federal grants, inspired by the fact that Yale is apparently currently under an unpleasant government microscope. A quick perusal of Google didn't shed any useful information on Yale's plight, and I'm not exactly sure why the change in practice would make a difference. Anyone with similar stories or insight is welcome to comment...

Barbara Grosz now Dean of Radcliffe

Barbara Grosz was officially appointed dean of the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study. Barbara had previously been the dean of science for Radcliffe and took over as Interim Dean of the Institute when Drew Faust was made President of Harvard.

For those who don't know Barbara, she's known for her work in AI, and has been a professor at Harvard since 1986. I took her class and TA'ed for her as an undergraduate. I'm excited this has been made official, because I was getting tired of using the word "interim" whenever discussing Barbara's status.

Harvard computer science continues its tradition of being quite "outgoing". Harry Lewis was Dean of Harvard College, Mike Smith is currently Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, and now Barbara Grosz is Dean of Radcliffe. Per capita, we're well above average in Dean-ness. The joke around the department is once you get tenure you have to watch your back, or someone might make you Dean of something....

Things I Can't Talk About

If you're a regular reader, you've probably noticed that I haven't been posting as much as usual lately. Unfortunately, that's because I've been spending too much time on things I can't talk about.

Specifically, for much of the last two weeks, I was at a trial in San Francisco as an expert witness. Luckily, one week of it was during Harvard's spring break, so I didn't miss too much class time. But the case naturally took almost all of my energy and work hours. Not only did I not have much time to blog, but I didn't even have much time to think about things to blog about. Hopefully, that will change, and I'll soon be back to my usual self.

A natural topic to blog about, of course, would be about what it was like being an expert witness. Such a topic fits within the scope of the blog. But the case is just still too close. Instead of talking in generalities, which I think is reasonable and still professional, I'd run the risk of discussing specifics, of either the case, the client, or the attorneys I worked with -- which I definitely think is not, especially in a blog context.

As I pondered this dilemma, it occurred to me that there are plenty of other things still within the realm of professional life that I can't (or, to be clear, I choose not to) talk about. Details of PC meetings is not suitable blog material, as are details of the meetings of our CS faculty search committee -- and pretty much the last few weeks, when I wasn't busy with the case, I was busy with the ICALP PC or the CS search! Nor are discussions of my work on the "Administrative Board", Harvard's rule-enforcing body, for which every case is meant to be entirely confidential. Heck, we aren't even supposed to talk about what NSF panel we serve on when we serve on NSF panels, which I find a bit extreme. (Who couldn't figure that out if they wanted to?)

It is frustrating, since part of the reason I started to blog was because I like to talk about things. But especially because a blog is a public, permanent record, there are interesting, worthwhile, and even entertaining topics... that I can't discuss.

Knowing Harry Lewis Can Get You Hired

For that epsilon-fraction of the world that regularly reads my blog but not the complexity blog, here's a great post about the awe-inspiring power of just knowing Professor Harry Lewis. Check out the comments (I think Harry is teasing me again). And for anyone skeptical that Harvard is a high-powered CS institution, just check out Harry's list of his past Teaching Assistants (TFs, in Harvard-speak), and see how many names you recognize...

Some News from Harvard

A few interesting pieces of news from Harvard.

First, Harvard is setting up a scheme to avoid restrictive access policies of some journals. Essentially, as I imperfectly understand it, Harvard is obtaining from the faculty a non-exclusive right to disseminate articles written by the faculty. The intention is that a Harvard faculty member should be able to say to any journal that insists on having an exclusive copyright to an article, "That's fine, but I work at Harvard, and as such Harvard has a non-exclusive right to my work, which will be placed in an open repository." Stuart Shieber, a Harvard computer science professor and a strong proponent of open access, was behind this faculty legislation. Perhaps all the universities can get together and give a message to the journals that they are the ones that actually pay the faculty, and they will work against journals where the business model depends on restricting access to the research to only those who pay a monopoly-based fee.

Second, the Dean for the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences at Harvard, Dean Venky, is stepping down. Venky and I began about the same time at Harvard, and he's done a lot for improving the visibility and status of computer science and engineering at Harvard. I hope we can find a new Dean that can continue the push to build up these areas at Harvard.

More on the Shopping Period

As I mentioned two posts ago, Harvard has an unusual tradition of a "shopping period" -- you don't preregister for a class, but you choose classes after the first week, after you've had a chance to go to a lecture or two and see how you like it.

As a student, I loved it. What better way to get an idea if you'll like a class than to go, hear the professor, check out the syllabus, see who else is thinking of taking the class, etc. It makes choosing classes much more flexible. Instead of switching out of classes you've already chosen without seeing, you choose later. Part of that benefit might just be psychological -- most schools allow you to change courses in the first few weeks fairly easily -- but there is a marked difference between changing your classes and choosing your classes, especially if a student has to fill out forms or get signatures to change a class. The openness of the first week is a real benefit to students. I can understand why something like shopping period just might not be feasible for some very large schools, but I think it's a shame more schools don't do it.

Several years ago, there was a movement by the administration to introduce preregistration and get rid of shopping period. I was on the Committee for Undergraduate Education and the Faculty Council, and when the idea was first brought up I spoke against it, only to find that the issue didn't seem up for discussion; it apparently had been "decided" higher up. (It's things like this that helped make the Presidency of Larry Summers so unpopular, as opposed to some of the supposed reasons popularized in the press.) I was surprised that so many faculty on these advisory committees seemed willing to go along with the idea. It was massively unpopular among Computer Science faculty; we like students being able to choose their courses.

Overall, naturally, students didn't seem to like the idea. The administration's main argument seemed to be that it would allow more accurate predictions of class sizes in advance, so Teaching Assistants (and, in some classes, classrooms) could be assigned more readily and efficiently. (Here's an old Crimson opinion giving both sides of the issue.) This was around a time period where there were murmurs of graduate student unionization, and that might have been influencing the administration's mindset. Of course, nobody in the administration had an answer when I asked what prediction mechanisms they were using now, and if there was any evidence that preregistration would help predictions any. (I wasn't the only one asking this question. This was another reason the CS faculty in particular were against the idea; they saw no reason for it. It's in interesting problem to design an enrollment predictor; one semester, Stuart Shieber ended up running a projects class to find solutions for the problem.)

A funny thing happened, though. The change had to be approved by the faculty, and while I seemed to be a lonely voice with objections in these committee meetings, apparently a lot of faculty didn't actually like the idea. Instead of it being a quick and simple vote like the administration seemed to expect, the faculty meeting was a disaster. Eleven faculty spoke on the issue; ten spoke against it (including, I'm happy to say, me). Quietly, pre-registration was dropped as an issue, and shopping period continues.

Shopping Period Lecture

One of the great Harvard "traditions" that I enjoyed as a student is the "shopping period". Students don't pre-register for classes; they spend the first week "shopping" whatever classes they like, and then choose what ones they want to take. (I'll talk more about the "politics" of shopping -- the pros and cons -- next time.)

Because of this, rather than dive right into material the first class for my Algorithms and Data Structures class, besides going over the syllabus and requirements, I do something that at least I consider fun. We talk about how to get fair bits from a biased coin. The class starts with the classic brain-teaser: suppose you have a coin that may be biased. How can we flip that coin to decide something fairly, like who should pay for lunch?

[The simple solution to this question, unless I'm mistaken, is commonly attributed to von Neumann.]

Starting from there, I try and take the class through a series of questions, leading up to how to efficiently extract lots of random bits from a sequence of biased flips. The method I base the lecture on is due to Yuval Peres [(see "Iterating von Neumann's Procedure for Extracting Random Bits," Annals of Statistics, March 1992)], and I learned about it at some point in graduate school at Berkeley. I try to run this lecture in a very back-and-forth manner, asking questions of the students and trying to get them to answer. (I also do this a bunch during the semester, with varying degrees of success...) Here's a version of my notes, with the various questions.

For the students who decide not to take the course, I figure at the very least they've learned something interesting that they can take with them. Also, it's conceivably the only time students will hear the word "entropy" in a computer science class, so I think it's worthwhile for that alone. Somehow, this problem fascinates people. Way back when I had more energy, I wrote a Dr. Dobb's article on it to show it to a wider audience, and there's been lots of related research on the problem. In some sense, this problem is the pre-history of all the randomness extraction work that has come since.

Harvard's Financial Aid

Bill Gasarch asked me to comment further on Harvard's new financial aid policy, which I briefly mentioned here, a post which strangely has gotten a few comments in the last 24 hours. (Of course, some crazy people have the wacky idea Harvard should be free.) One of the comments points to a recent op-ed piece in the New York Times; another commenter calls the piece illogical, which I'd have to agree with.) I'll offer my opinion, which has been colored by discussions with Harry Lewis. (By the way, have you bought his book yet?)

First and foremost, I'm glad Harvard did it.

One complaint is that Harvard only did it to stave off potential future legislation requiring it to spend more of its endowment. I just don't think this is true. Harvard has been raising its financial aid already quite substantially the last few years. There are plenty of other motivations and pressures to do so outside some sort of potential future legislation. In particular, if there are any political motivations, I'd say a more likely one is that the new President of Harvard and Dean of FAS did it to show some leadership and put a positive spin on their new administration out in the news. But I don't even think that's such a big reason. It's the direction Harvard's been moving for some time.

Another complaint is that this will put pressure on other schools who can't afford to do the same thing, particularly public schools, who will lose some talented students. I don't see this as a huge problem. Harvard only takes about 1700 students a year. Even if the whole Ivy League tagged along (like Yale has), that leaves plenty of talented students -- including the ones who would have gotten into Harvard but now didn't because the financial aid allowed a similarly or higher qualified student with fewer financial means to attend. When Harvard expands its entering class by a factor of 2, then people can complain what a terrible thing Harvard is doing, stealing good students away from other institutions. (Their argument will still be weak and misguided, though.)

I like how the two major complaints are so contradictory in nature. The first says Harvard isn't doing enough with it's big endowment; the other says Harvard is doing too much.

Me, I'm thrilled. Harvard did something good: it made attending Harvard more affordable. In doing so, it showed leadership, and has got people talking about the cost of college in places like the Opinion page of the New York Times. I hope it will lead to further positive changes, and improve the affordability college more generally.

Harvard Improves Financial Aid

Harvard's is again improving its financial aid policy, as described here and here.

It's not as wacky or ludicrous an idea as not charging anyone tuition, but I'm still glad to hear it. (Wait, this doesn't cut my salary, does it...)

David Parkes talk Monday, 4pm

David Parkes will be giving a talk on computational mechanism design in Maxwell-Dworkin G115 at 4pm on the 19th. This is what at Harvard we call the "tenure talk" -- it's a talk he gives giving an overview of his research and research area as he's coming up for tenure. If you're a theorist in the area and want to hear a perhaps slightly different point of view on mechanism design and work at the intersection of economics/cs (David proves things, but he comes from the AI side), you should come. Heck, if you're local, in any area, and interested in the economics/cs interface you should come. It should be a very nice talk, and it would be great to have the room full to bursting as a sign of support of David.

Harvard Computer Science Hiring

We're eagerly looking for candidates in CS in all areas at the junior level (i.e., assistant profs). (Be sure to tell your non-theory friends as well.) Here's the ad for the search.

Harry Lewis's book, Excellence Without a Soul

Since my colleague Harry Lewis is kind enough to stop by and post comments from time to time, I would be remiss not to encourage everyone with an interest in the education of college students -- in the broad sense of whether universities are and how universities should be teaching students to become adults -- to pick up his book Excellence Without a Soul: How a Great University Forgot Education (also now available in paperback as well). I highly recommend the book, and plan to give it to my daughters to read when they're teenagers so they're better prepared for the college experience.

The book takes a stark look at the directions of modern college education, painting a picture of increasing directionlessness at the leading research universities, using Harvard and Harry's experience as Dean of Harvard college as a backdrop. Whether you agree with it or not -- and I have to admit I found a strong resonance with most of the issues in the book -- it is definite food for thought, well-reasoned and well-argued through and through.

There are two very small points of criticism I can make with the book. The first is that while the book sheds light on a number of challenging problems, it frustratingly offers little advice in the way of solutions. However, I think this was quite intentional. Indeed, one of the points in the book is that for many of these problems, what is needed isn't a "solution", but leadership, discussion, and the building of a consensus within the university.

The second nitpick is that one issue raised repeatedly in the book is the invasion of the consumer culture in education. Students pay a great deal for an education, particularly at private institutions, and they expect to get what they pay for; Harry argues forcefully that this trend is not good for the education of students. It would seem to me that this should be another compelling reason why Harvard shouldn't charge for tuition, as it might lessen the "I paid for this" attitude of many students (and parents), but perhaps Harry believes that even if there was no tuition, the consumer attitude would remain.

What Do Professors Do? Part II

Following up on my last post... in one respect I know I'm spending more time on administrative issues recently. Last semester I started serving as a faculty member on the Harvard "Ad Board" -- literally, the Administrative Board. This is the committee that handles the "application and enforcement of undergraduate academic regulations and standards of social conduct". If you're in trouble for bad grades, cheating, plagiarizing, fighting, alcohol abuse, or anything else that's mentioned in the Harvard rules, your case gets brought to the Ad Board. We also handle several more positive and pleasant administrative duties, of course, but the bulk of the actual work involves the cases of students experiencing serious academic problems or accused of violating university rules.

This is a remarkably time-intensive committee. We meet weekly, and it's not at all unusual for the meetings to last 2-3 hours. Plus there's prep time involved in reading the cases before the meeting. There are only a few faculty members on the committee at a time. Most of the committee is made up of administrators and the "resident deans" -- people who live at the Harvard dorms (or "houses" in Harvard-speak) and are responsible for the care of students.

Several of the resident deans have asked me what I did to get stuck on the committee. I generally answer that I didn't realize it was a punishment! (In fact, then-Dean of Students Dick Gross asked me to serve. As he and Harry Lewis were my senior thesis advisors as an undergraduate, I found it hard to say no. I've found this sort of thing is a problem about going back as a professor where you were an undergraduate; people are more familiar with your name and stick you on committees.)

It is indeed a very challenging committee. I've learned some important things, including all about the infrastructure for helping Harvard students with problems and how I can help lead students to this infrastructure. One perhaps obvious lesson is that most often students get into academic trouble -- in particular, with plagiarism -- because they leave assignments until the night before and then take shortcuts to get them in. I've always been quite strict with undergraduates about homework deadlines -- I think overall students need better time management skills and try to do too much -- but I admit I've softened up since being on the committee. Contrary to many students' belief, I don't want my class to spur a breakdown. But remind your students over and over -- the night before is no time to start a theory problem set (or any other assignment)!

The Argument for a Tuition-Free Harvard Education

After being subjected to the uncompelling arguments of those who think my videotaped lectures should be freely available, I thought I'd present my own wacky idea, backed up by an actual argument: that Harvard should stop charging tuition for undergraduates.

Strangely, this idea (which hit me back in '99, when I came back to Harvard, and which at least one Dean told me was unrealistic) does not seem so wacky today. Harvard has devoted significant new resources to financial aid over the last decade, so college is essentially free for families earning less than $60,000, as outlined here and here.

While some would view this in the mystical light of commitment to the educational mission, social good, etc., I'll be a bit more cynical and actually try to back up why this has been a good idea with an economic argument. More financial aid is just good business. Harvard's cost was limiting its access to the talent pool of graduating seniors; moreover, the resulting debt was at least a potential and probably real barrier to the future success of many graduates. Since Harvard's greatest asset (after its remarkably talented, and modest, faculty, and maybe also its endowment) is its reputation, losing top students because of cost or limiting their success through debt simply cannot be Harvard's optimal strategy. Increasing financial aid just makes good sense, especially given Harvard's resources -- it can take the short-term cost for the long-term good. (The fact that all this coincides with altruism is certainly fortunate, as naturally pretty much all the faculty really do have a mystical commitment to the educational mission, social good, etc.)

This argument, however, doesn't justify making Harvard free for all accepted, as I have proposed. In fact, one might think the other way -- that the rich should be soaked for as much as they can to help pay for the not-rich. My cynical but rational argument for a free Harvard undergraduate education for all is that, if tuition was free, but Harvard then encouraged people to donate what they thought their education was worth -- say, perhaps, a small percentage of their annual income for life -- in the long run, they'd more than make up the tuition loss with increased funding of the endowment (thanks to the power law that is the wealth distribution). This is not a tax, but it is based on the idea that your college education is related to your future earnings, and giving back a percentage of those earnings is an arguably fair way to pay for that education.

Harvard might not even have to wait for the long-term to get the benefit. Indeed, imagine Harvard's next fund-raising campaign beginning with the announcement that after the campaign, as long as their goals were met, Harvard would be free for all undergraduates! What PR! What kind of donations would that bring in immediately!

Longer term, I would suspect the benefit would be even more. The pay-what-you-think-is-fair approach has been tried in some restaurants (see the SAME cafe, or the One World Cafe), and many museums have no fee but "suggested donations" at least part of the time, so this approach is not entirely unprecedented. In Harvard's case, I think the mix of guilt, altruism, and competition would push wealthy alumni (and wealthy parents of students) to give much more. (So you see, I am soaking the rich -- I just think you should wait to soak people until after they are rich, and inspire them to give generously, rather than bill them for a tuition payment.)

There are all sorts of possible side-benefits. It could work out that by moving from a system of tuition to voluntary donations, there would be an immediate jump because the donations, as opposed to tuition, could be made with pre-tax instead of post-tax money. (Note: I am not a tax attorney...) Students not laden with debt may prove more entrepreneurial (which besides helping the economy might lead to bigger donations down the line), or perhaps might take on more public-service oriented employment.

I can see why this might not have been tried elsewhere -- there's a lot of up-front cost while waiting for future payoff. Even for Harvard, perhaps the risk of too many free-riders is too large, although I doubt it. Harvard could also label the plan an experiment, suggesting that after some time tuition would have to be re-instituted if donations didn't keep pace with projections, to limit the risk. Perhaps the biggest negative is if Harvard tried this unilaterally, it would be seen as an unfriendly neighbor to all the other colleges. Still, I can't help but wish this idea would be given a try. Perhaps it could change the way we talk about funding education in this country, moving increased resources to our education system. I'd like to see Harvard lead the way in this regard.

Advertising: Anyone Can Take My Randomized Algorithm Class

Next semester, I'm teaching my class on randomized algorithms and probabilistic analysis, based on the Mitzenmacher/Upfal book. Harvard, like many universities, has an "Extension School", and I offer my courses through the distance education program. Basically, my lectures get taped and put online, I put the assignments online, and you or anyone who pays the Extension fee can take the course. While I'm sure my teaching performance on video is reminiscent of say an early Mel Gibson or perhaps a Moe Howard, I personally still don't think distance education is as good as "being there" by any means (at least, not yet...). But it offers an opportunity that people may not otherwise have.

The course is taught at the level of an introductory graduate class, meant for non-theorists as well as theorists. These days, who doesn't need to know randomized algorithms and probabilistic analysis? If you know someone, for example in industry, who might like to take such a course, here's the link to the bare-bones syllabus.

Harvard's New Dean

If you haven't heard the news, Michael Smith, a computer science professor renowned for his work in compilers, programming languages, and security, has been named the next Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences here at Harvard. This is great for many reasons:

1. It's great for Harvard. Mike has served as associate dean (which equals chair in Harvard-speak) for EE and CS here; he is a fantastic administrator with great insight and vision. He knows how to build consensus and get positive things done. We need that here.
   
2. It's great for computer science. Mike will have a large presence in the world of higher education; this will improve the visibility of computer science in the always-important administrative circles.
3. It's great for applied science at Harvard. Harvard has been talking a lot about improving its applied science programs; Mike has the background and knowledge to continue to make these improvements happen.
   

However, I can't help but be a bit saddened by his selection.

1. It's a bit of a blow to computer science at Harvard. We're losing one of the key figures in our department. Sure, technically he'll still be around, but we won't have the immediate benefit of his leadership.
2. It's a deep personal loss. Mike has been in the office next to me pretty much since I arrived at Harvard. He's been a mentor and a friend. Sure, technically he'll still be around, but I won't be able to just pop my head in next door anymore. I'll probably have to make an appointment.
   

The times are a-changing for the better here. Best of luck, Mike!