Official Harvard has been concerned with the interview. Glimp emphasizes the decreasing reliance on objective criteria, and the growing importance of arbitrary, or non-objective, standards. Questions such as "Who would flourish in the bottom fourth of his class?" and "Who can get the most out of Harvard?" are hard to answer. In an attempt to remedy this defect, Dean K. Whitla, Director of the Office of Tests, has been experimenting with a 20-22 question interview conducted with the aid of a tape recorder. The new interview was used by 50-60 boys in various parts of the country who were already fairly sure of admission, and the results will be studied in depth. Already, some alumni are protesting the idea of a scientifically-based interview, but Glimp insists, "This isn't strictly scientific; it's just a help to give us a firmer grasp. We're not going to turn interviewing over to a machine."
A sample hypothesis that the new interviews are expected to support is this: a boy who has a family genuinely interested in what he does-one that supports him but does not pressure him--is likely to develop strong ego qualities, and be willing to gamble intellectually. Glimp says, "A fellow with the ability to be a free wheeler--to do things he's not entirely sure of--ought to be at Harvard. The country needs him, and maybe Harvard trains this type better than others."
Alumni reaction has been varied. Some, like Birge, favor the idea of a rigidly structured interview, in which the alumnus serves mainly to transcribe the candidate's remarks. Many think the use of a tape recorder would be impossible, Some, like Doermann, would prefer a free rein in interviewing, and would not-be willing to follow a set pattern of questioning. And, of course, nearly all interviewers would maintain their right to subjective judgment.
"A Sixth Sense"
It does seem that a more systematic process is in order. When Birge says of interviewing, "I have to rely on instinct, how the boy looks to me. It's sort of a sixth sense," one has the uneasy feeling that a very large chance is being taken. (A mitigating factor here is the Admissions Office's well-placed faith in teachers' reports; Glimp says, "A front may fool an interviewer, but not usually a teacher.")
Taken all in all, Harvard's admissions operation has done quite well, despite the feelings of detractors that the selection committee might take any 1,200 boys and come out with an equally capable class. Harvard's ambitious system allows the College to amass a large amount of data about its candidates. But the College still has problems. Only two Harvard Clubs are discussed in this article, and generalization is dangerous. Yet these clubs are two of the most productive, and in their activities, at least, there may be cause for alarm.
When the Lampoon parodied the CRIMSON recently, the lead article claimed that 518 successful applicants had decided not to accept. Almost immediately, guidance counselors and parents called or wrote the Office of Admissions to ask for another chance for their students or sons. In some cases, the students themselves begged for reconsideration. To some, this was funny, But for Glimp, who was forced to add new disappointment to previous rejections, the incident was a fresh realization that workers in admissions are dealing with human pain. It is this element that demands all possible care.