HARVARD'S REACTION TO the Buckley amendment, which gives students access to their confidential files, seems strangely disproportionate to the impact of the legislation.

The law, which will take effect November 19, gives college students the right to inspect their files "to insure that the records are not inaccurate, misleading, or otherwise in violation of the privacy or other rights of students, and to provide an opportunity for the correction or deletion of any such inaccurate, misleading, or otherwise inappropriate data contained therein."

Harvard has attacked the legislation at a variety of levels. In some cases, its criticisms are valid; in other cases, they are specious.

The intent of Sen. James L. Buckley's amendment to the omnibus Education Act is clear: to give students a chance to inspect their files and to challenge any incorrect or damaging information they may contain. One would assume such incidents rarely happen and Harvard's arguments have seldom mentioned the central purpose of the law. What appears to be more pressing to members of the Faculty and the administration is that students will also have access to their recommendations; that this access will lead to a lack of candor by professors; and that this lack of candor, in turn, will harm the student in the long run.

Just why this should happen is unclear; one would like to think that the "Veritas" on the top of Harvard's stationary would extend to the letter below, no matter who the eventual reader might be.

Most students who ask for recommendations expect honesty from those whom they ask. That they might not like the evaluations they receive should not deter a professor from writing an honest recommendation, any more than it prevents an instructor from giving a 'D' or an 'E' when he thinks it is deserved. And one might also speculate that the added factor of accountability would eliminate the off-chance of malice and lead to greater rather than less honesty in evaluations.

This is not to say that the Buckley amendment is without fault, particularly in regard to its unintended possible side effects. As currently worded, for example, the law gives students automatic access to their parents' confidential statements--something better left legislated by the family than the state.

Furthermore, it leaves open the question of what to do about material written under the promise of confidentially. Harvard's intention to contact those who wrote confidential recommendations to ask them if they object to leaving their letters left in the files seems to be a just solution. It is disturbing, however, that the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences intends to destroy the records of those who fail to respond or cannot be contacted. It would be much better if the rest of the University followed the College's example and retained this kind of material intact.

The law does not give students who might feel that a confidential recommendation would carry greater weight in admissions and job procedures the option of waiving access to their files. Buckley has indicated that these issues will be dealt with in greater depth in further amendments to be prepared by his office. Most seriously, the law provides no clear-cut instructions for its implementation--a large gap has been left between the time of the law's enactment and the time when the U.S. Office of Education is to issue guidelines for its use.

Buckley's proposal of this amendment, and his refusal to back down in the face of pressure from educational heavyweights, in commendable. But to put the law into effect now, without adequate preparation, would be a mistake.

When it returns from its election recess, Congress should delay the application of the law for 60 days to allow time for public hearings and to give Buckley's office a chance to answer the remaining questions. But the basic fiber of the Buckley amendment should remain intact. In a time that has seen the drawbacks of secrecy and the benefits of accountability in bureaucratic structures, Harvard shouldn't even want to be an exception.