When it comes to the housing lottery, it is clear that Harvard hasn't really known what it wants. Why, otherwise, would it have adopted such a wishy-washy system of assigning housing to first-year students? Since the current program of nonordered choice is embarrassingly ineffective in curtailing the stereotypical images of the houses, the college would be better off adopting complete randomization.

One acknowledged goal of non-ordered choice is to chip away at house identities produced by homogeneous populations. At the same time, students retain something resembling a right to choose. This situation has produced the following statistic: 80 to 90 percent of first-year students receive one of their four choices in the housing lottery.

This figure can be interpreted in two ways. On the one hand, the figure means that students are being satisfied to a great extent under the non-ordered choice regime. Administrative officials, like Dean L. Fred Jewett '57, are quick to use this figure to defend the system. On the other hand, the numbers mean that randomization really isn't occurring much more than it would under the more extreme alternative of ordered choice. Because there are 12 undergraduate houses, even allowing for a field of four allows a student to maintain a great deal of choice based on house reputations.

Non-ordered choice, therefore, seems to be a hypocrisy coined to the outward benefit of both students and administration. Its only apparent purpose is to cast an aura of heightened political correctness over the campus. Is that warm, fuzzy feeling of egalitarianism the only thing to be gained by any sort of randomization? Most students would not dispute that the diversity afforded to them by their fairly random first-year accommodations is a fantastic opportunity for exposure to varied social and religious points of view.

It is ridiculous to characterize those houses with the most established stereotypes as gargantuan, homogeneous cliques comprised of several hundred people. Such houses, however, do provide an effective escape route from the diverse environment that provokes heated discussion and promotes understanding in a student's first year at Harvard.

After all, the natural tendency among people is to associate with those who most closely share their interests. As a result, randomization could be called socially unnatural or counterproductive.

Despite these arguments, the College's policy of non-ordered choice is not ideal for the accomplishment of the administration's own objectives. It certainly is not the most efficient way to achieve Harvard's stated goal of increased diversity in housing. Complete randomization, even if used for just a few years, would more rapidly produce the environment sought by University Hall. Why should a housing policy impede the realization of a goal already agreed upon by the College?

The question then becomes whether to leave randomization in place for an unlimited period of time. If non-ordered choice is indeed a means to an end, then it is an attempt to improve the lottery on only a superficial level. Clearly, Harvard is still in need of a permanent plan.

Should the housing lottery change like the national tax laws, with each passing administration? Other universities, such as those in the California and Connecticut state systems and even Yale, seem perfectly able to stand the pain of complete randomization year after year.

Harvard's particular problems with randomization are mostly due to the amazing disparities and mutually exclusive properties of the accommodations themselves. What if the Quad houses were not in the Quad, or the architectural styles of Mather, new Quincy and new Leverett were miraculously reconciled with the rest of the college?

If that were the case, non-ordered choice would certainly be less desirable or at least less necessary to satisfy strongly opinionated dorm connoisseurs. But simple campus-wide renovations are neither practical nor sufficient solutions to the problem.

The only part of the college housing policy that must remain in place is the ability to transfer. Complete randomization could easily be instituted, as long as those who loath their living conditions intensely would be allowed to move.

Most students who are relegated to the Quad or the Leverett towers do get used to it eventually, or find that the marginal effort required to transfer is not justifiable. Moreover, students who stick with their assigned house still would have the benefit of living with their hand-picked rooming groups.

The College must always bear a certain amount of whining whenever it formulates policy that is not attractive to students at first glance. That whining has rarely stood in the way of Harvard and Radcliffe Colleges before. Those administrators who truly feel that randomizations is a moral imperative should finally replace their rhetoric with strong, focused policy.