Doty graduated from Pennsylvania State College in 1941, and did his graduate study at Columbia.

John T. Dunlop, 56, dean of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences:

"Take a picture of him on the phone. He's always on the phone," a secretary told a CRIMSON photographer last year. And he is. Dunlop chairs so many committees and has his hand in so many other non-academic projects, there is speculation that the Corporation can't make him president because it would entail too much trouble filling his other positions.

Within the University, Dunlop's major posts include Dean of the Faculty, chairman of the Faculty Council, chairman of the Committee on Governance, chairman of the Committee on Students and Community Relations, former chairman of the Ec Department, and the General Education Committee, chairman of the defunct Committee of 15, and Dunlop Committee on Recruitment and Retention of Faculty, active member on about 15 others.

He did not go to Harvard (graduated from Berkeley in 1935) and appears lacking in much of the polish traditionally associated with the Harvard administration. Coming into the deanship in the middle of restructuring debates and Faculty power struggles, his blunt manner has been his greatest virtue. In departmental meetings, he's been blunt and open enough to gain the trust of widely divergent Faculty groups.

Much of his savvy comes from years of labor mediation, in many cases "crisis mediation." But there's an additional dimension to it. Because Dunlop seems more comfortable with the head of the Carpenter's Union than at Faculty teas, is one professor explained, he's duly unimpressed with much of the pomp and grandeur of the University.

His eye goes to the practicalities of a situation-budgets, contracts, salaries and compromises-before the formalities. He's a man that the University needs but where is a question that the Corporation and Dunlop will work out together.

Robert H. Ebert, 56, dean of Harvard Medical School:

"Ebert," one associate said, "has never backed away from anything, and I think he would welcome the challenge [of the presidency]."

Ebert must see some challenge as well in his present job because he gave up one of the more prestigious medical positions in the United States-chief of medicine at Massachusetts General Hospital-in order to become dean of the Medical School in 1965.

Since then, he has concentrated on involving the Medical School in the University as well as the outside community. Last fall, his brainchild, the Haryard Community Health Plan, was instituted for the first time, replete with pre-payment plans and group practices.

Ebert's colleagues describe him as a staunch liberal, a mediator rather than a pusher, a listener rather than a dictator. He has assumed an outspoken political position on the war-much to the chagrin of older conservative alumni-and last October he joined a group from the Med School handing out leaflets at the Moratorium rally.

Ebert is no stranger to the College: the issue of the expansion of the Affiliated Hospital Center in Roxbury was one of the foci of the 1968 SDS demonstrations.

Ebert's activist role in community affairs far predated student interest in community reform, and he has long experience with land acquisition and tenant relocation. He has steadily displayed a diplomacy which one of his students once described as that of "a shrewd political person."

There is no doubt that Ebert fits the Corporation's bill as far as fund-raising goes: in the past five years, he has amassed over $30 million for the Medical School alone.