the wrong font

Just inside the western gate of Harvard Yard sits a cheap plastic frame enclosing a piece of corrugated cardboard.

Clearly, it was placed there in response to past–and current–campus protests. I have questions, though.

Who is the audience here? Surely not the students, as they would have already received such messages through other sources. The same goes for faculty. Casual visitors like myself? Again, not likely, since we’re not there to damage the place. Agitated protesters, perhaps? Nope: they’d just knock it down.

More questions…

Who wrote the thing? It’s signed, somewhat cryptically, “Harvard Faculty of Arts and Sciences [Harvard Logo] Office of Physical Resources & Planning.” Is that one department or two? Was it written by the Office of Physical Resources with help from faculty, or with its approval? Was there a committee? If so, how many people were on it? How long did it take to come up with the wording? How many revisions did it go through? Were Harvard’s lawyers involved?

Anyway, since “the devil is in the details,” let’s take a look at some.

Harvard is committed to creating a safe and welcoming environment for all members of the Harvard community.

Red light, right out of the gate. Whenever an institution–especially a college–begins its list of priorities with the word “safe,” you know you’re in for a particular kind of ideological ride, one not necessarily consistent with intellectual pursuits.

Next…

Grammar quibble: What would be an example of “inappropriate prior approval”? Also, doesn’t “approval” already imply prior action? I suppose one could receive approval after the event, but that would be more like capitulation. Or, to quote an aphorism I read in the 18th century Chinese novel, Dream of the Red Chamber, “They’ll have to deal with it once the rice is cooked.” Onward…

• Disturbing or using University flagpoles;

A pole cannot be disturbed, although the possibility of such would make for an interesting short story.

• Projecting or affixing a message or image onto a Harvard building;

What if you project it from across Mass. Ave., like, e.g., the doorway of the 133-year-old tobacconist shop, Leavitt & Pierce? Another example: A group of sight-seers was recently prevented from taking photographs of Attica Correctional Facility while standing in the parking lot, but was told by a friendly CO that taking pictures from across the street was not a crime. Anyway…

• Vandalizing University property; and
• Digging holes or otherwise disturbing plant life on University property.

Structural quibble: A list of bullet points is not a sentence. Semi-colons and conjunctions are not required.

[snip]

Finally…

The Faculty of Arts and Sciences may grant exceptions to these prohibitions.

Aaaaand there it is–a sentence which, gesturing to the concept of academic freedom, instantly negates every prohibition that preceded it. I find it hard to imagine in what case(s) a faculty member would authorize digging holes or disturbing a flag post, although it would be fun to take that class. No matter. In the end, it’s a farce.

I don’t envy Harvard here; they’re facing a no-win situation. The raison d’être of the sign, as far as I can tell, is as a public-facing statement of their policy on student protests. (Which, by the way, is a bit tortured.) Unfortunately, what it actually reveals is the writhing of an institution impaled on the horns of a contradiction, and whose struggles only make it more stuck.

In the words of King Claudius, in Hamlet:

“O wretched state! O bosom black as death!
O limed soul, that, struggling to be free,
Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay!
Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel,
Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe!
All may be well.“