Even amid huckster cries of "Peace, Progress, and Prosperity," Harvard's undergraduates still include a core of the unconvinced--those who see peace as just a precarious balance of the atomic brink of "massive retaliation," who believe that our progress may be misguided and our prosperity poorly allocated.

Most College students, however, seem content to sip silently the sugar and honey of reassuring slogans, and as the nation's foreign and domestic problems grow in their complexity, a once thriving breed of rugged radicals is dying a lingering death. In the place of vigorous protest and proposals, a majority of today's undergraduates--calling themselves "moderate liberals"--voice either vague satisfaction or, at worst, a perplexed feeling that something, somewhere, is wrong.

And yet, in this climate of semantic "moderation," economic proposals that might have sent people to jail not long ago and are still denounced as dangerously radical, find remarkable acceptance within the College community. Harvard Square has not been treated to a healthy radical pamphlet in years, it is true, and even private discussion of politics has shrunk to an alarming minimum. But in the libraries and lecture halls, students are quietly absorbing the economic and political beliefs of those whom most "conservatives" bitingly call the "left-wingers."

With their more or less approving students, these prominent professors form a potent group that likes to refer to itself as 'liberal." But some of its more forthright members, such as Professor Sam Beer, openly describe their philosophy as "radical democracy," and the group as a whole might best be called the Respectable Radicals.

Although few men--even in the academic community--possess sufficient courage to tag themselves as active "radicals," a suprisingly large number accept the political proposals that the Respectable Radicals put forward. While the group retains its popular identity as "liberals," its program, in many cases, is decidedly radical.

Thus, whereas only a twelfth of Harvard's undergraduates, describe their political temperament as "radical"--judging from the questionnaire--over a seventh support "full socialization of all industries," more than a fifth favor socialization of the medical profession, and nearly a third believe that the Federal government should own and operate all basic industries, such as steel and railroads. In a society that accepts such phrases as "free competition" and "private enterprise" as its conventional rhetoric, it is curious to find extensive support--even among students--for socialization and similar radical proposals.

Much the same third that favor basic socialization also support "immediate unilateral suspension of atomic tests" by the United States (hence the little green stickers on Vespa fenders: Halt Bomb Tests), and "reduction of current unemployment by government action, even at the price of aggravating inflation."

The latter proposal, of course, is finding increasing favor across the nation, and a frightening cluster of special interest groups is buying thousands of column inches in magazines and newspapers in order to fight it. Under the headline, "Government Always Shrinks a Dollar," Republic Steel periodically tells readers that "whenever the government finances something for you, you pay for it--through taxes--with your own dollar that has inevitably been shrunk."

In the field of foreign affairs, a clear-cut majority of the undergraduates polled support "recognition of Communist China by the United States and its admission to the United Nations," as well as a "marked increase" in American economic aid to other countries.

"Reactionary" proposals, on the other hand, find favor only within a small clique at the College: only a twelfth back either repeal of antitrust legislation, or "marked reductions" in our Mutual Security program. This is the Fortnightly crowd--laughed at when they are not ignored.

Fully a fifth of the undergraduates, however, support such "conservative" stands as reducing the current inflation, even at the price of unrelieved unemployment, and barring government wage and price controls except in time of national emergency.

In addition, over half favor "right-to-work" laws. Probably influenced by revelations of union corruption, and the huge amount of anti-union propaganda distributed in the recent Congressional campaign, a significant group of "moderate liberals" have apparently joined the "conservatives" in their sympathy for this bit of legislation.

Though the openly radical proposals of socialization won approval from up to a third, Harvard students reserve their overwhelming support for the "liberal" status quo. Two-thirds support such "Welfare State" projects as Social Security and Federal regional power development. Not surprisingly, current "liberal" proposals receive similar impressive backing: four-fifths approve of Federal aid to public secondary schools; two-thirds, of American economic and non-military technical aid to other countries at its present level, of national health insurance, of Federal aid to private colleges and universities, of government wage and price controls to check inflation; and half, of Federal financial assistance to American cultural activities.

Within the College, as elsewhere, Federal aid is rapidly gaining the status of a magic word. Surrounded by a climate of "liberalism," most Harvard undergraduates seem ready to accept increased Federal activity in almost any area of national life--from schoolrooms to hospitals, from housing developments to theatres, and from farms to factories.

For the most part, the College's students did not arrive in Cambridge with these beliefs; they picked them up at Harvard. Over half admit that their political views have been strongly influenced since Freshman Registration, and of these, seven-tenths have changed either "from conservative to more liberal," or "from liberal to more liberal."

According to the students themselves, the most decisive factor in the change has been their "lectures and assigned reading in courses"--reinforced by the "influence of friends" (who are, of course, reading many of the same books) and "increased thinking about political questions" (stimulated largely by course work and, to some extent, by increased "independent" reading).

Economics 1, with the greatest enrollment of any College course is a case in point. Using a popular text-book by MIT's Paul A. Samuelson, the course lays great stress on Federal fiscal policy (e.g. "countercyclical spending" by the national government to help offset periodic business slumps). Lecturers include Seymour Harris, Chairman of the Department and John Kenneth Galbraith, author of The Affluent Society.

Under these circumstances, Harvard's introductory course in economics can hardly be considered impartial--it certainly presents the "liberal" position in a favorable light, and tends to downgrade what Galbraith calls the "conventional wisdom." It is not surprising that a third of Harvard's students declare themselves in favor of "reduction of current unemployment by government action, even at the price of aggravating inflation," or that two-thirds support "government wage and price controls to check the inflation"--the second policy presumably helping to balance the first.

Of course, this is not to imply that all Harvard students are brainwashed by Economics 1. But the selectiveness of reading lists and lectures often allows an unhealthy "argument-by-omission to replace a complete presentation of all "sides" of a question. Certainly this academic influence has helped produce a curious political spectrum within the College.

Although a fifth still describe themselves as "conservative" in temperament, over half prefer the safe and evasive category of "moderate liberal." In addition, a sixth of the students appear willing to admit that they remain "politically indifferent." Neither Hoffa nor the "missile-gap" can arouse them from their lethargy. Apparently ignoring the dictum that "knowledge is power," these Political Indifferents fervently hope that "ignorance is bliss."

Except for its crusty conservatives and temperamental radicals, the College remains largely a hotbed of unconcern. Safely perched in the "middle-of-the-road," many of its "moderate liberals" hold fast to their comfortable philosophy of "don't-give-a-damnism." When sufficiently aroused by a crisis--or even by a simple emergency they lean to the Left and lend their silent aid and comfort to the Respectable Radicals.

In addition to his lectures and assigned realing, a student's newspaper and magazines act as the second major influence on his political beliefs. Seven-tenths read the New York Times--the country's most impartial, unbiased news source.

But the Times consists of more than news columns, and its Sunday magazine appears heavily loaded with articles by "liberal" correspondents (including a number of the more literary Senators). It has been charged that its Book Review section often ignores or blasts "conservative" books of high quality, and that its "News of the Week in Review" (after the first two pages) often shows a decidedly "liberal" slant.

In second place among the publications, almost three-fifths of the College students read Henry R. Luce's Time, and more than a third also look at his Life. Though some students violently criticize these two magazines the slick, fast-moving style of Time and Life apparently appeals even to Harvard's high intellectual level. Luce's columns are definitely the meat in Harvard's political sandwich.

Much less successful at Harvard are Newsweek (a sixth read it), David Lawrence's conservative U.S. News and World Report (an eighth), Max Ascoli's Reporter (a tenth). Only a twentieth read either the liberal Nation or New Republic, and a mere handful look at Bill Buckley's infant National Review.

Just as three-fifths read Time and call themselves "moderate liberals," about two-thirds believe that America's two-party system is "satisfactory on the whole and should be essentially retained." In contrast, only one-fifth (extremists of both Right and Left) favor an alteration of the present party structure "so that sharper lines could be drawn" between the two parties--the G.O.P. presumably returning to its conservativism of a by-gone era, and the Democrats moving even further to the Left and becoming, in name as well as in fact, the party of the Respectable Radicals.

In addition, a tenth would like to see a Third Party successfully founded to crusade forcibly for their political beliefs. Though a few students ask for an American Conservative Party, most of the tenth are radicals who feel that their proposals will not be accepted, or accepted fast enough, in the present party structure. Almost all those who termed their political temperament "radical" also asked for a Third Party of the Left.

Harvard's dominant majority, however, stands firmly behind the "moderate liberalism" of both major parties. As "Northerns Democrats" or "Modern Republicans," they silently support the stock solution to a growing list of problems: call on Washington. Of course, Federal action may be the best (and in some cases, the only) solution to many modern-day challenges--but this is not the point. That this stock answer and similar slogans are passively accepted by many "moderate liberals"--often without intellectual study of the economic and political implications involved for our society, but in smug and self-satisfied silence--this is the danger. By his willingness to "go along," the "moderate liberal" in name becomes the Respectable Radical in practice.

Stated briefly, reaction to the political challenge has divided undergraduates into two distinct groups: Blissful Indifference, and Ineffective Desperation. No one takes the latter group very seriously. This leaves the potent majority of the Center, the drifting "moderates."

Of course, the prevailing state of Blissful Indifference is not entirely the student's fault. Finding himself confronted with an intellectual dilemma, he can either assert without adequate knowledge, or remain silent and ineffective. In addition to appearing the lesser of these two evils, silence is also easier.

If the student hopes to speak--or even think--about politics intelligently he must face three baffling problems. First, the fact that politics is becoming increasingly complicated, and second, its effects are becoming more and more explosive. As a mode of debate, argument-by-slogan is more dangerous than ever before, and as a mode of operation, policy-by-experimentation is less feasible. Thirdly, as the magnitude of political problems multiplies, the authority responsible for their solution becomes progressively concentrated. Faced with complex, crucial issues, and an imposing, impersonal government, students are at a loss to understand how they can act, if at all.

Perhaps this explains why most student groups for political study end in quick failure. After one or two enthusiastic meetings, most members realize that they lack both the time and the special competence to gain an adequate understanding of, say, the disarmament issue--the variety of plans involved, their implications, the history of negotiations, the forces at work on the participants.

Uninterested in defending an imaginative political position, and perhaps largely unable to do so, the overwhelming majority assumes the only political stance that needs no defense--that of the "moderate liberal." It is difficult not to admire those "middle-of-the-roaders" who have, by serious intellectual effort, earned for themselves a place in the camp of the genuine "moderate liberals.