Unfortunately, the analogy may not be entirely valid. The Rutgers professor Eugene Genovese, one of the leading Marxist historians in America, was not doing any research for the National Liberation Front. His views on the war in Vietnam were shaped by his own theoretical outlook on revolution in underdeveloped societies, as well as his obvious revulsion at United States policy. On the other side of the coin, professors who spend a day each week in Washington, or part of their time on government research, may find their perspective slightly altered--if not warped--by their pre-occupation with "practical" matters. This, at least, is the argument of those who decry "University complicity." It is also an allegation of more moderate students who feel that the Economics Department overemphasizes problems of monetary and fiscal policy and gives short shrift to the tougher problem of redistributing goods more equitably in America.

In no way does this imply that students' views on the University's role in society depend wholly on their degree of alienation from the current drift of American public policy. Many students--and some Faculty agree with them--would like to see Harvard's course of study give more emphasis to matters of ethics, philosophy, and metaphysics.

Such disciplines, it is thought, should be of greater concern to college students than international politics, social theory, applied psychology, and economics. It is questionable, though whether a student who wishes to prepare for a quick ascension in any one of America's bureaucracies should have his studies so confined.

In any event, disentangling the universities, the corporations, and the government would be a difficult task. For as John Kenneth Galbraith as-tutely argues in The New Industrial State--and his observations are not particularly original in this respect--the twentieth century has witnessed a growing dependence of both politicians and businessmen on academic talent.

Professors who spend a day each week in Washington, or part of their time on government research, may find their perspective slightly altered-if not warped-by their pre-occupation with "practical" matters. . . . Many professors, even if they disagree with government policies, enjoy the chance to play some role in Washington affairs.

This relationship has deepened, because universities produced most of this nation's scientific innovations and discoveries, not to mention much of the analytic and theoretical social science that is indispensable to policy-makers. As this has occurred, and outside funds for research and development have flooded college communities, Galbraith claims, universities have already abdicated their traditional roles as the mainsprings of reasoned, sophisticated dissent in America.

But this is bitter and trivial consolation for many professors and students. Both firms and government agencies can afford to be selective about what ideas they choose to adapt to their needs--and how they adapt them. Thus, many professors find themselves whistling into the wind--and a smaller, but more disgruntled bunch must watch their contract research service long-range goals they abhor.

Despite the drawbacks of Harvard's involvement with the outside world, a large number of Faculty members seem to like things the way they are. Many professors, even if they disagree with government policies, enjoy the chance to play some role in Washington affairs.

As one government consultant based in Cambridge put it last year, "Aside from the fact that they need our expertise, we can--and do--always hope that some of our advice will be heeded. Of course, it's up to an individual whether he would rather sign petitions of protest or try to persuade the officials who make the decisions." This attitude is fairly widespread.

In addition, most students have little conception of what might happen should the Harvard Corporation decide to bar professors from doing research or consultant work for the government or private industry. Certainly, at least a few professors would seriously consider resigning from the Faculty.

At the heart of the problem, however, is the question of what role a University should play in an increasingly diverse society with institutions requiring finely honed academic expertise for their maintenance and growth. This is an issue for philosophers, politicians, technocrats, and hippies. It is also an issue with ramifications that transcend the exacerbated feelings of the 300 students who posed it in Mallinckrodt Hall two weeks ago.

In all probability, it will never be resolved to very many students' satisfaction. But it will now be discussed and painfully pondered at great length. This should remind people that Harvard effectively serves other purposes than mass murder.