A couple of years ago Harold Wolff began to notice a lack of fincase in the tactics of certain competitors and forsaw trouble ahead. Mr. Wolff began to walk, not run, toward the nearest exit, and he has now reached what he considers to be safe ground. Mr. Wolff is not a tutor at all, he says, at least not in the commercial sense. His metier is "guidance and supervision."

From this disinterested vantage point, Mr. Wolff has surveyed the tutoring problem. Lifting from these columns the chief evils of tutoring, he has numbered them! (1) writing papers; (2) spotting examinations; (3) discovering snap courses; (4) conducting mass cram sessions. Yet Mr. Wolff is loath to discuss these ills. In the first place, he thinks they may be unethical; in the second place, they are not practiced by his establishment, "as far as I know," he says.

Mr. Wolff does not deny tutoring altogether, but he insists that his clients have covered the assigned material and want to "supplement" it; have neglected their studies "through no fault of their own"; or else "are temporarily unable to do their college work without this guidance."

Running out on his erstwhile associated and becoming a "guide" instead of a tutor was a pretty cagey move. "Guidance" is perfectly legal. "Guidance," in fact, is a brand new field in these parts, and the mere word commands respect. The University has already taken steps that will eventually lead to adequate "guidance" for all men. Mr. Wolff's misuse of the term should not give rise to the delusion that "guidance" can be carried on commercially in the Square.

Physically it would be impossible because even Mr. Wolff cannot command the knowledge, experience and facilities necessary to render effective guidance. It is more than a matter of getting men through History I. It is the problem of annually adjusting the lives and outlook of a thousand Freshmen to college conditions and keeping them adjusted. It involves close coordination of the Deans of Admissions and Freshmen, the Hygiene Department, the heads of Freshman courses, the H.A.A., religious bodies and other groups.

Psychologically it would be difficult, if not impossible, for the professional philosopher and friend to work toward the same ends as the University. The least his paying guests could ask would be passing grades, and in their natural conflict with "the system" he would tend inevitably to said with them. And should a beautiful friendship really evolve, he would not be bound by the ethical restrictions of faculty members.

Economically, no system of "guidance" will be acceptable that is not available to everyone, rich or poor. But the impracticability is more fundamental than this. The "guide" would have to turn away all who came seeking a short-cut to wisdom. And not content with thus reducing his revenue, he would have to get rid of his remaining clients in short order. The very purpose of "guidance" is to put the student on his own in the shortest possible space of time.

The need for "guidance" is very great, but Mr. Wolff's solicitude, if not suspect, is at least superficial. His attempt to muscle in on an educational policy already started by the University would amount to impertinence, were not his profession in such dire need of an apologist.