But they do not. Fitzsimmons acknowledges that the legacies Harvard admits are predominantly white, affluent Northeasterners, many of whom come from elite prep schools. After all, the parents of most legacies went to Harvard sometime between 1945 and 1969, when Harvard was largely a white Protestant upper-class bastion.

The Harvard policy of favoring legacies thus amounts to de facto discrimination against minorities. When white legacies occupy a disproportionate share of spaces in the first-year class, fewer spaces can be allotted to Blacks, Asian-Americans and Hispanics.

This impact of the legacy policy on minority admissions is so undeniable that even Harvard admits it. In response to a complaint by Arthur T. Hu, who accused the admissions office of discrimination against Asian-Americans, Harvard attempted to justify its abnormally low acceptance rates for Asian-American applicants by arguing that few of them fall into its "preferred categories.' One of these "preferred categories" is the children of graduates. In other words, Harvard University openly acknowledges that its legacy policy is effectively an instrument of racial discrimination.

Minority groups, with few exceptions, have not made the legacy policy a leading item on their agendas. Perhaps some minority activists fear that questioning preferential treatment for legacies would cast doubt upon affirmative action admissions. But the issues are conceptually distinct. Preference to minority groups counterbalances years of discrimination and prejudice, while preference to legacies reinforces the all-white boys' club tradition.

The silence of other Harvard students, especially the campus Left, is equally surprising. Perhaps Harvard students are content to let their own children benefit from an unjust policy to the detriment of others. More likely, students, faculty and administrators take legacy policy as a given, a part of Harvard tradition as unshakeable as the statue in front of University Hall.

Now it's time to question that tradition. As Harvard enters its multi-billion dollar fundraising drive, will it continue to offer spaces in the first-year class to the children of high bidders? Or will it remove a lingering vestige of its discriminatory past by renouncing an undeniably unjust policy?