"Gen Ed," the term that dominates talk of Harvard education, was probably coined by some freshman or sophomore ten years ago. He used the phrase to name an experimental program that offered eight courses to 459 students that year.

General Education, the idea that controls Harvard education, has a longer history, reaching back into the administrations of Lowell and Eliot, but it was given meaning for current generations at Harvard in 1943 when President Conant appointed a University Committee on the Objectives of a General Education in a Free Society. That Committee produced a book, and the book produced a program of education that gave new significance to the ideas of electives, concentration, and distribution.

Gen Ed has succeeded quite well since then. Several thousand students have now received a sub-lethal dose of a few great books and some impressive ideas. They not only exchange them at cocktail parties, but also sit up for hours in Holworthy or Matthews arguing about them. Those early-morning hours are when Gen Ed succeeds most of all.

Gen Ed is a part of the Harvard experience which especially tries the student. Lecturers and section men cannot ruin most of this material; the laggard student fools only himself with that excuse. Here the freshman is first put to the test of how well he will use a Harvard education--the test of whether he can bring some enthusiasm of his own to a book, instead of expecting the book, and a Ph.D. explicator, to do everything for him.

Varities of Gen Ed

The practice of Gen Ed is not yet past childhood, though, and it certainly has not solved every problem--partly because it is young, and partly because it is so many different things:

Broad, lower-level courses which introduce the student to an area of knowledge.

A diverse assortment of upper-level courses on many topics, with little in common but a generally high quality of teaching, perphas the most meaningful bond of all.

For freshmen, Gen Ed also means a writing course which will never be too much fun, though it tends increasingly to teach them how to write.

For upperclassmen, Gen Ed is also a plan of distribution, a vague set of signposts suggesting where to scatter some courses outside one's major field.

And Gen Ed is, basically, a philosophy of education, whose aim President Conant outlined thus in 1943:

The primary concern of American education today is not the development of the appreciation of the 'good life' in young gentlemen born to the purple. It is the infusion of the liberal and humane tradition into our entire educational system. Our purpose is to cultivate in the largest number of our future citizens an appreciation of both the responsibilities and the benefits which come to them because they are Americans and are free.

This concern underlies General Education at Harvard, and its sense of national mission shines through the legendary "red book," General Education in a Free Society, the committee report whose publication in 1945 brought this concept to Harvard education.

This an essay on that concept, particularly on how it has worked and failed at Harvard. It cannot yet be assessed in relation to all American education, though it seems to have a widening impact on schools and colleges in the nation.

The basic aims have not changed much since 1943, but they seem all the more vital today in a post-war America that seems content with Herman Wouk or Anne Morrow Lindbergh as culture, or will sit by quietly as it is told that nuclear radiation is a) dangerous, b) harmless, c) over its head, or d) none of its business.

This radiation problem has a regrettable complement at Harvard, for the General Education hope that a citizen might have some comprehension of the problems of science and scientists is balked here. The sciences thwart General Education, which is pointless if it cannot teach the three areas of knowledge on a roughly equal level. Scientists in the University rarely agree to give Gen Ed courses, and the notable exceptions, men like Kemble, Cohen, Nash, Holton, and LeCorbeillier are left to keep on teaching the courses year in and year out.

Numbers tell part of the story. Compare the Gen Ed course offerings this year. Lower-level courses were spread about equally among the three areas, but second group courses were rare in the sciences:

A Comparison

Natural sciences: Five lower-level courses. Five second group half-courses, two of them limited by prerequisites to those who had studied much science.

Humanities: Six lower-level courses. One full course in the second group, and nine half-courses.

Social Sciences: Five lower-level courses. Three full courses in the second group, and six half-courses.

An adequate Nat Sci in the biological sciences, Nat Sci 8, filled a gap of many years' standing this year. This brought the elementary offerings up to par with the other two areas, but the deficiency in second group courses shows all the more clearly now.

The sciences need these courses particularly, for their ordinary departmental courses are, to the nonconcentrators at least tedious memorization interrupted by lab writeups and protected by prerequisites. As the Kaysen report showed this fall, non-concentrators will not take these courses, for they belong too much to closed circuit education that bars intellectual experimentation.

There are three main reasons why scientists do not teach these courses.

Time is the greatest. One Gen Ed committee member, who has strongly argued the need of more science in the program concedes:

"The burden the scientist carries today in keeping up with advances in this field, doing important research, and giving direction to advanced students is very heavy. By and large, classroom teaching of the Gen Ed sort seems to the scientist apart from his main scientific concerns."

Some scientists do teach Gen Ed courses, and their example seems to argue that a main concern of the scientific community is indeed giving the non-scientist some general understanding of this field of knowledge.

Other scientists have no sympathy at all for the idea of General Education. Some, perhaps educated abroad, feel that a man should be generally educated before he comes to college, and that if he is not, he can still pick up a general education on his own if he amounts to anything. Consequently they argue that General Education is a worthlesss scheme.

Still others believe that a Gen Ed approach is impossible in science, or that it must lack content. They believe that only the rigorous and specific approach to science is meaningful. They deny the value of trying to teach the philosophy and methodology of science by giving the student a broad view of some of the major problems in the area and the means used to solve them.

These individuals rarely understand what actually takes place in a Nat Sci course, or else they pick upon the discontinued offerings which students named "cocktail biology." Their conversation betrays an analogy with ninth-grade general science.

This is the problem, and these are some of its roots. There are ideas which suggest solutions.

Laboratory work in the Natural Sciences courses would help. The "red book" called for it as a way to illustrate the precision and experiment which characterize the approach of many sciences. Most Gen Ed courses now try for this effect through demonstration sections and problem sets, notably inadequate tools. If the lab space could be made available laboratory work might improve all the lower-level Nat Sci courses which to not require it. This could happen only if the method were carefully though out. The endless lab writeup of the Physics 1 variety should be avoided, but a good lab would add some of the rigor which many scientists feel the program now lacks.

More radical is another solution, proposed by a high administrator. He suggests that the science concentrator's exemption from a lower-level Natural Science course be discontinued. He contends that if the scientists had to teach their own students in these courses, they would take a greater interest in them and in General Education as a whole.

Red Book Against Exemption

Historically, that exemption was put into the rules during Faculty debates on the program, and it represents a concession to win the support of the sciences for the program generally. There is no basis for the exemption in the "red book," which argues, contrarily:

It frequently happens that even the student who concentrates in a science is preoccupied with his specialty to such a degree that he fails to achieve a view of science as a whole and of the interrelationship of the special fields within it. A general education in science needs to be provided for the future scientist or technologist as well as for the general student. One could scarcely insist that all students of history or literature should learn some biology, for example, but that the prospective physicist or chemist need not do so.

The time argument enters in here, too, for the science concentrator already has many hours of lab in his first years, and would be pressed to fit another course in. One Physics concentrator derided the scheme, asking, "Why waste another course on science?"

David Owen, acting chairman of the Committee on General Education, objects to the revision on these grounds, and feels also that it would not achieve its intended effects. "Instead of entering Gen Ed courses with enthusiasm," he comments, "scientists might just make them more technical if science concentrators took them."

The significance of this proposal, aside from its practical difficulties, lies in the attitude it conveys. It suggests that the science departments huddle together to protect their own, and take a unified stand on questions dealing with General Education. The Committee has not found this reaction from other areas, where courses can always be arranged on an individual basis, and no defensively departmental attitudes appear.

The whole argument leaves unanswered a broader question--the whole problem of science instruction of the non-concentrator. Whether this is to be achieved through a Gen Ed course or courses, or by some other means, modern civilization requires a man to have an understanding of some of the greater problems of the sciences that may bring his destruction, and a satisfactory means of providing it in Harvard College must be found. The lower-level offering is now adequate, but impending retirements may threaten it soon. The upper-level courses are insufficient.

In 1951 Owen, then chairman of the Committee on General Education, wrote:

One of the critical tests of a successful general education program is that of an adequate course in the natural sciences. The difficulties appear to lie partly in the attitude of many scientists, who have been unable to interest themselves in the problem of teaching their subject to the non-scientist.

Owen was speaking in general terms, and he noted that President Conant's leadership (he taught Natural Sciences 4) had minimized this problem here, but his words are relevant now, and perhaps have more significance four years after Conant's resignation.

No Immediate Solution

No immediate solution presents itself. The whole problem seems as much one of tact and politics as of abstract principles. A select Faculty committee has been appointed to investigate the entire subject of science instruction for non-scientists, and its findings, hopefully promised for next spring, will be awaited with considerable interest.

This is the chief problem for General Education today, but there are other issues which must be faced.

The depth of the lower-level Humanities and Social Sciences is one problem. These courses have undeniable impact, for their reading lists are scarcely surpassed in the University and they are usually very well taught. But some people wonder if they do not try to do too much, to read too many books. Except Humanities 6, the lower-level Humanities courses read no fewer than eleven great books in a year, and often quite a few more.

General Education in a Free Society showed concern on this point:

There must be time for reflection or the familiarity will remain too verbal ... Probably,... a course which chose eight great books would be trying to do too much. A list from which a selection would be made might include Homer, one or two of the Greek tragedies, Plato, the Bible, Virgil, Dante, Shakespeare, Milton, Tolstoy.

This is a problem that interests President Pusey, too. The matter of "reading in depth" was an important part of General Education at Lawrence College, where he taught a section of the required course on five or six "great books" during his presidency there. "You can't examine a text," he complains, "if simply getting through the number of pages exhausts you." Owen shares this concern, and one instructor recently suggested that a Gen Ed course might profitably take up only one or two books a term, delving into them for every possible meaning.

This might prove to be extreme, for not many section men could keep a single book exciting for eight weeks, even if the lecturer could. Yet the idea is an important one, and something could probably be done to relieve the sense of frantic pressure a freshman feels when handed a Humanities 3 or Social Sciences 5 reading list. Each of these courses is taught well, generally, and they are popular with students, but much of the time spent in sections is devoted to explaining the books which were hastily read if read at all.

With these exceptions, the lower-level courses fulfill their function very well, for all but the exceptionally prepared freshmen who come to Harvard already generally educated in Western culture, ethical and political For a fairly large number from Eastern prep schools, these courses add little to the student's already generous background.

Without analyzing individual courses, it seems fair to say that the educational means employed are perfectly suitable, once the validity of a lecture-system is admitted. All sorts of variations in the lecture-section pattern exist.

Teachers at such institutions as Co- lumbia may insist that discussions are better than lectures, but they unwittingly assume that all discussions will be as good as the best ones. This cannot be, and a bad discussion is probably worse than a bad lecture, for one cannot read a good book in a bad section meeting, and (his) attendance is often enforced by punitive quizzes.

The Committee's second group courses are less certain in purpose. Some, like "Classics of the Christian Tradition," clearly cut or ignore departmental lines. Many others, especially the history courses under Social Sciences, could just as easily be given by a department. Originally these courses were meant as an integral part of the distribution rules under General Education, and the courses which cut departmental lines were conceived in General Education in a Free Society. Now any course in the catalogue is accepted for distribution, and the Committee feels that its courses must only fill some holes. Consequently one could scarcely find a comparably fine group of courses in any department's listings, for interest and good teaching are held more important than inclusiveness.

Quality of Upper Courses

The Quality of the courses indicates one of Gen Ed's greatest contributions to Harvard education. Unlike a department, the Committee has no use for the teaching services of the great scholar who bores students. It can altar or junk a course, and its repeated efforts to find or create an acceptable course in the biological sciences form one example. It would be hard to tell whether this influence has yet spread to other departments, but it certainly affects the many teaching fellows the Committee employs, the men who will climb the academic ladder to tenure in the departments eventually. This effect can certainly be expected to increase.

Writing clear English perplexes students everywhere, and learning how to do it is rarely interesting. Consequently, General Education Ahf, Harvard's freshman writing course, faces the same problems as similar courses at other institutions. One more it takes on itself--the risk of being disregarded by students--for as a full-year half-course it tends to be pushed aside by freshmen. A Gen Ed essay can be written in half an hour, and many of them are. Harold C. Martin, director of General Education Ahf, concedes, "Many students do not bring the same respect to this course as to others."

Aside from teaching exposition, Gen Ed Ahf provides two significant teaching methods as examples for the College. Fifteen to sixteen per cent of its students are enrolled in honors sections, which use only literary sources and requiremore work of the students. Freshmen in these sections usually emerge with a better impression of the course than others, and Martin believes this intellectual segregation works more effectively in a writing course than in others, for discussion in a Gen Ed Ahf section is not of great importance and therefore skimming the best students off does not hurt the others.

Gen Ed Ahf's other unique practice is a sort of general education for the faculty. The staff of this course is drawnfrom all fields of study, not exclusively drawn from graduate student ranks. Only a small minority of the teachers added to next year's staff are graduate students in English, and for the first time Martin is including some men from the law school.

One reason for this is that he has found some English students excessively literary in their approach to the course. Another is a sort of philosophical commitment to the idea, which faintly parallels the general education course at Lawrence, where instructors from all departments taught the basic Gen Ed course, and Physics professors became the mostenthusiastic teachers of Hamlet. The stimulation of this approach is worth further thought, if only in terms of moreguest lectures.

The Languages

Gen Ed now covers all but one of the educational requirements outside of concentration. It ignores only the language requirement, which is left to the Registrar, who presumably takes care of it when he is not busy with swimmingtests.

The Faculty will probably rummage through the subject of the language requirement again next year, according to Dean Bundy, and it seems likely that there will be pressure to tighten the requirement so it will mean something.

Princeton has met the problem by requiring real competence in either a foreign language or in mathematics, and something along this line might be put in here, though there seems to be little current demand for more math instruction. Or the requirement might just be raised, on both the placement tests and the level of course to be passed. At least one year of a foreign literature might be demanded.

But the problem is more than a numerical one. The intermittent watchfulness of the Faculty has not brought forth a sensible system, and a standing committee might profitably survey the area. But if a committee were created, it would probably include many members of the language departments who now must bear the responsibility for the low quality of instruction given in so many modern languages. This instruction helps make the language requirement worthless.

If an independent but vitally concerned body like the Committee on General Education were given jurisdiction over the requirement, and perhaps over the instruction as well, the language requirement might be translated into a useful contribution to Harvard education.

When Gen Ed was adopted it was not looked on as final and perfect, and there was a feeling that the program would need a reconsideration after some years of practice. Ten years then seemed a proper interval, and that would put the review any time after the next academic year, for General Education went into permanent status with 1949-50. Owen says that the committee would welcome such a review, but it seems that if such a study is to make sense, both the teaching of science and the place of languages should be carefully examined first. Excepting the unlikely eventualities of curricular or term-arrangement reform, these are the most pressing problemsfor Harvard education today.

Gen Ed a Success

Gen Ed has succeeded; one of President Pusey's major concerns when he came was seeing that "General Education engaged the full interest and support or senior Faculty members whose standing is as high as that of anyone in their departments." Under the vigorous leadership of Kenneth B. Murdock, General Education continues to do that. Three University Professors teach Gen Ed courses, and leading professors from two of the three areas contribute to the program.

There is much to be done. If one can ever sit back and relax about an educational problem, he cannot do it yet aboutGen Ed. But there is room for a feeling of accomplishment. In the words of one professor of long standing, "General Education, for all its defects in execution, aims at a useful goal, and whatever its failings may have been, has had 'successes' which more than counter-balance them, 'successes' of a sort less commonly achieved when Gen Ed was not in existence."KENNETH B. MURDOCK Chairman of the Committee on General Education