The question that best illustrates this is the issue of task force representation. Presently, the six members of the task force work on flexible "crime-specific" shifts, assigned to certain times and areas as crime statistics vary. This, however, runs counter to the traditional union practice of assigning all shifts on the basis of seniority, with the most experienced officers getting the best hours. The most likely way out of the dilemma would appear to be either the elimination of the task force or an agreement excluding it from the bargaining unit, and therefore exempting it from union seniority rules. Neither route, however, is popular.

Edward W. Powers, associate general counsel for employee relations, said last summer Harvard is firmly committed to the concept of the crime-specific task force. "Needs have changed," he said; "They're being totally unrealistic if they think we're going to go back on that." Powers also believes the union should adhere to what he says is one of its own proposals, made last spring, to exclude the task force from the union.

Letteri, however, maintains that he never made such an offer, and that it would not be in the best interests of the union. "This is how they would do away with all seniority," he says: once the task force were excluded from the bargaining unit, Harvard could eventually transfer more and more of the officers into it, leaving the Police Association a memberless shell. The question, Letteri says, will probably have to be decided through mediation. He will not, however, rule out the possibility of filing an unfair labor practice charge against the University, for allegedly failing to comply with the seniority provisions of previous contracts. At the same time, Powers implies Letteri and the union might also be guilty of an unfair practice, for allegedly backing out of the supposed task force settlement last spring. Whoever is right, it is clear there is no love lost at the bargaining table.

The same applies to the dispute over job security. The key point is Harvard's demand that officers submit to frequent physical examinations (how frequent? A good question: Harvard first said "bi-annual" checkups were the rule, but outraged union officials, armed with dictionaries, protested the mandated twice-yearly checkups. Harvard, armed with a few dictionaires of its own, clarified the order to read "once every two years.") Powers's point is simple: "If a guy's going to carry a gun, he's got to be able to carry it, he's got to be able to see clearly and react quickly." Letteri, on the other hand, wants a guarantee that officers who fail the exams will be allowed to remain in the force on light duty. Otherwise the department could use the physicals as an excuse to weed out the uncooperative officers: "You're bound to fail one sooner or later," he says. But such a guarantee, which would have been simple in the days when the University police were little more than security guards, will not wash in an era when they are trying to be "real policemen." "We just can't justify having that many men on light duty," Powers says.

The dispute, because it strikes at the central issue of how the force should be organized, probably will not result in an easy solution. The minor issues, such as morale, will soon be settled--both sides are awaiting a report, due within the month, by John T. Howland, a police management specialist called in by the University last May, to suggest ways of improving communication and morale in the force. But Howland will have nothing to say about the context of the negotiations, and he is hardly likely to recommend a return to the low-profile, fatherly-old-guard days. Rather, the issue of change is one that Harvard and the union will have to thrash out at the bargaining table, whenever they choose to resurrect the stalled talks.

Whatever the result of that thrashing, however, the two sides realize that there are definite limits on how far they can compromise. Even if it wanted to, the University probably could not return to an "old-fashioned" police force; the demands of such a large and diverse campus, located close to a major intersection such as the Square, make a large security force, capable of taking its "aggressive stand against the outside," a necessity. Harvard cannot afford a low-key, "service-oriented" police force such as MIT's. As James Olivieri, chief of police at MIT, notes, Harvard's location makes it impossible to have a force with such "a low degree of activity" as MIT's. Like it or not, the "new look" of the Harvard force is here to stay.

The final question is, then: What will it look like in the future? As the University police undergo more and more professional training--a regimen that now includes a stint at the state police academy, classes in arrest and booking procedures, and frequent firearms practice--the tendency would seem to be towards a more efficient but less student-oriented force. Yet while William L. Backman, coordinator of training for the department, agrees that the force is changing, unavoidably moving away from the fatherly mode, he maintains it is still possible for the department to retain its distinctive character as a campus police force, Indeed, Backman argues, the force must recognize the different circumstances in which it finds itself: "It's very possible to be very professional in the way you enforce the law. But you have to be very cognizant of who you work for--which is Harvard University."

Whether the department can keep that in mind, of course, is an open question--one that the next few months of negotiation should go a long way towards answering.

Whether the department can really keep that in mind, of course, is an open question--one that the next few months of negotiation should go a long way towards answering.