RADCLIFFE STILL EXISTS, and not just on paper. Radcliffe raises money, funds scholarships, runs a library, a research center, a graduate institute and other programs.

Radcliffe College, however, is defunct.

Since forfeiting its role in admissions, Radcliffe's contribution to the education of college-age women has become a mere technicality--a signature on the diploma and little else. Without an undergraduate educational mission, the institution no longer qualifies as a college.

A more accurate name would be the Radcliffe Resource Center, a title that encompasses many of the various endeavors which the institution pursues--but which raises no false expectations. Prospective Harvard-Radcliffe undergraduates would not be misled into thinking that Radcliffe is actually teaching students or hiring professors.

The Radcliffe Resource Center, by contrast, would set the institution in its proper perspective. Harvard students have, for example, the Writing Center at their disposal, the Center for European Studies if they're interested in that subject, and the Radcliffe Resource Center--just one among many affiliated institutions which make students' lives more interesting.

UNFAIR, you protest? It is true that Radcliffe "College" once offered courses and hired professors, and that its original purpose was to provide women with a Harvard education.

And Radcliffe has accomplished this purpose. Women now have almost equal access to a Harvard education, thanks to the efforts of Radcliffe administrators over the decades, who have thus made themselves obsolete.

THE EVIDENCE OF this obsolescence comes from the low, low profile that Radcliffe keeps on campus. Most students cannot name more than one Radcliffe administrator--the associate professor of Psychology who quipped about mayonnaise at Opening Exercises and promptly disappeared.

Undergraduate women can go for three-and-a-half years without encountering their "College"--often until the Radcliffe Alumni Association (for obvious reasons the most vigorous administrative unit in the Radcliffe Yard these days) calls on women for the Senior Soiree.

It is a shame that a social affair, the stereotypical women's college event, should be the occasion for Radcliffe's pitch to students. Moreover, because other Radcliffe programs attract few undergrads, this state of affairs suggests that the "College" has nothing better to do for the mass of its students than to throw an annual party. Radcliffe needs to do better for its students than a party, should the institution wish to make a reasonable claim to the title of College.

Radcliffe should, in short, be more active.

ACTIVE AT WHAT, you ask? What is it that Radcliffe could do that it hasn't already signed over to Harvard?

I can think immediately of two projects.

The first would be the promotion of women's studies at the University. Harvard is now beginning to consider a women's studies concentration, after years of arguing its uselessness, but the process is a slow one and sure to be derailed in the long run by administrative neglect--for precedent, consider the story of the Afro-Am Department.

Radcliffe might play a role in the development of a women's studies concentration and in luring of professors to the University. For instance, Radcliffe might link its Murray Research Center, its Schlesinger Library, and its Bunting Institute into the nascent Harvard department--perhaps sacrificing some control over these institutions in return for some say in the concentration.

Women's studies would benefit in two ways. First, the accumulation of Harvard and Radcliffe resources would make for a stronger operation. Second, the presence of Radcliffe in the running of the concentration might keep Harvard on its administrative toes, and prevent Harvard from reneging on whatever commitment it makes to women's studies.

A second role that Radcliffe might play is as an active promoter of undergraduate extracurriculars. Currently the Office for the Arts, the Radcliffe Union of Students, Education for Action, and a handful of other organizations get Radcliffe funds. Certainly, though, Radcliffe students are active in more than these groups.

By expanding its support of undergraduate groups, Radcliffe would be forced to assess, as it has not done for years, the situation and needs of its students.

Radcliffe would then realize, for instance, that no one has heard of the Murray Research Center or the Center for the Study of Interdependence, two Radcliffe programs which are pursuing interesting lines of study in total darkness.

By dipping again into the undergraduate world, at the cost of just a few thousand dollars, Radcliffe might be able to position itself for a revitalization of student interest in the institution.

And these two roles are not the only ones. Radcliffe might also push for Harvard credit for its seminars. It might host undergraduate classes in Radcliffe buildings. It might undertake to publicize its resources more effectively among undergrads, perhaps, crassly, by stamping its logo on all that it funds, the way Harvard does. But these are just random examples. The underlying point is that Radcliffe need not have interpreted its merger-that-dares-not-speak-its-name in a manner that absolves it of all responsibility for acting like a College.