What's in a name? That which we call a rose

By any other word would smell as sweet --"Romeo and Juliet"

Gather round, children of Crimson, and pay homage to the Name. It is the Name that brought you here and, often, it is the Name that keeps you here. The Name will open doors for you. From internships to consulting jobs to admission to the best retirement homes, the Name of Harvard takes care of its own.

Forgive my blasphemy, but it is time we did away with this antiquated idolatry. More myth than might, "Harvard" is nothing more than a 7-letter name tag for a great school. This false Wizard of Oz not only exploits the misguided piety of its followers, but by worshipping it, we are cheating ourselves of billions and billions of dollars. Harvard already rakes in the big bucks by plastering donors' names on every building, bookshelf and ashtray on campus. Think of the money that could be raised by auctioning off a change in the biggest name of all.

It's time to start the bidding: At what price Harvard?

Of course, controversy will follow such a suggestion. I can already hear the outrage at Harvard Clubs across the country. (First the Union, and now this!) But before the traditionalists get in a huff, bear in mind the history of our fair institution. As any Crimson Key guide will tell you, Harvard wasn't always Harvard. John Harvard of "Three Lies" fame left part of his estate and his library to the young college in 1638 and we've been sporting the "H" ever since.

John H. thus ignited a shopping trend that has shown remarkable staying-power. From Widener Library and Robinson Hall to Loker Commons and the under-construction Barker Center, a sizable check can still buy a little slice of immortality.

Curiously, though, prices seem to have gone up while the rewards of giving have gone down. Witness Ms. Loker's millions for a subterranean "hang-out" and compare it to John Harvard's relatively meager donation for the big prize. It's time we renewed our commitment to giving our donors their money's worth. There is no point in getting overly-sanctimonious. If a name-change didn't seem to bother the school fathers in 1638, who are we to judge in 1997? In our own time, there is even precedent for such a change. In 1992, Mr. Henry Rowan opened his wallet and, $100 million later, Glassboro State College in New Jersey became (surprise!) Rowan State College.

With an eye to the bottom line, resistance to change just doesn't make sense.

Don't get me wrong. I'm sure Mr. Harvard's gift was well-appreciated during the lean years of colonization. But, with all due respect, what have you done for us lately, John? All but one of your books were lost to a 1764 fire and your estate could maybe cover a couple of tuitions at today's prices.

On the other hand, think of the impact of, say, a fresh ten billion dollars. It could mean better lighting in the library, MAC equipment that is younger than the students, and bands at Springfest with actual name-recognition. Are we really willing to give up all this and more just for the sake of clinging to the name of a guy who didn't even bother to leave a picture for his statue?

The merchandising bonanza prompted by a name change could bring in untold millions more. Undoubtedly, every student, alum, and Crimson enthusiast (I suppose the color could stay) would want to take home a piece of the new brand-name of elite academia. Added to this would be the stampede of the sentimentalists and investors wishing to get hold of vintage H-clad "collector's items" while they last--Everything Must Go!

Those still not convinced by the cold hard truths of dollar signs need only try a more rational approach. Are we so superficial that we can't see past a label? If Harvard University suddenly became [Insert Name Here] University, would we not still have the same beautiful campus, storied history, world-class faculty, and stellar student-body? Such stubborn intransigence to change is both foolish and expensive.

Granted, there will be bands of rebels who will insist on clinging to the antiquated H-word despite all arguments to the contrary. But, fear not. With a firm commitment to a re-naming propaganda campaign, even the staunchest old-schoolers will come around. Notice that, after just a few years, only a small pocket of "North House" resistance remains, thanks to the re-education efforts of the new Pforzheimer regime.

Assuming reason and market interests prevail, we are still left with the sticky issue of actually deciding on a new name. Of course, some names would be preferable to others. For example, it's a pretty safe bet that a Lowell, Roosevelt, or Adams would be more amenable to the powers-that-be than a Kaczynski, McVeigh, or Orenthal James (that's O.J. for the culturally illiterate).

Other more practical concerns would also need to be considered. If we chose another name beginning with "H," we could probably save ourselves a couple of bucks. (No new football helmets.) By sticking with a two syllable name we wouldn't risk muddling up the old fight-sings. "Ten thousand men of Feld-stein want victory today!" rolls off the tongue just as easily as the old version.

Finally, in accordance with the spirit of the 90s, the idea of corporate sponsorship would have to be entertained. How would we feel if Harvard went the way of the FleetCenter, the FedEx Orange Bowl, and the Philip Morris Republican Party?

Perhaps some day a compromise can be reached that would appease both the bottom-liners and the Crimson die-hards among us. Who knows? Maybe if a certain billionaire drop-out were to become interested, Harvard could reap the dual rewards of a greener future and a marketable moniker for the twenty-first century.

"All those in favor of Microsoft@Harvard.edu..."

Rustin C. Silverstein '99 is a Crimson editor who lives in Lowell House.