Several decades ago, speaking about the vice-presidency of the United States, Lyndon Baines Johnson summed up his view of the job with a few, choice words: "The vice-presidency is not worth a pitcher of warm spit."

True to his style, Johnson exaggerated. Still, the general message was accurate: throughout history, the American vice-presidency has been a relatively meaningless position.

It is unlikely that America's saltiest president had much to do with Radcliffe College. But today, a week before University of Minnesota professor Barbara J. Nelson assumes the newly-created post of second-in-command and presidential stand-in at Harvard's appendix, it's worth remembering Johnson's words.

To be sure, Nelson's academic credentials are impressive, and we look forward to her contributions toward furthering scholarship on women's issues. As far as her administrative role goes, however, it's not quite clear why Nelson's position is necessary or what she will do. Last week's press release announcing her appointment didn't offer much in the way of guidance.

Indeed, in disclosing the move, Radcliffe officials emphasized the new vice president's expected role in taking the pressure off Radcliffe President Linda R. Wilson.

We hate to say it, but that characterization of the job doesn't bode well. Wilson, a respected scientist and by all accounts an amiable administrator, is known to most students in only two ways: she greets first-years at Convocation, and she greets graduating seniors at the annual Senior Soiree.

Beyond that, her responsibilities, as far as we can tell, include fundraising, followed by supervising the administration of the Bunting Institute, the Murray Research Center, the Schlesinger Library, and a few other small organizations devoted to researching women's issues.

Nelson's role in easing Wilson's administrative burden is designed to allow the Radcliffe president to travel more, presumably on fundraising excursions. After roughly four years in office without a such back-up, we wonder how much travel to remote lands Wilson is suddenly planning that necessitates another administrator to fill in for her while she is away.

Moreover, we can't help but use this opportunity to question the raison d'etre for Radcliffe itself. We've said it before and we'll say it again: the fact that Radcliffe offers certain benefits only to Harvard's female undergraduates--and not to males--is unfair and discriminatory. And, ironically, Radcliffe's existence as an institution distinct from Harvard implies that female students are second-class citizens at Harvard who need a separate "home" where they will be coddled.

This aside, the chances are that Barbara Nelson's administrative appointment doesn't mean much, and that her bureaucratic role will be minimal. If that's true, then we wonder why the job was created.

On the other hand, if the addition of Nelson signals a new, increased commitment of resources to Radcliffe, then we are further dismayed that the University has decided to build up, rather than scale down a vestige of ages past.