A little over a week ago, Dean of Harvard Business School (HBS) Kim B. Clark '74 was explaining to a Sanders Theatre audience how technology advances business education.

He presented a practice management simulation in which a woman told her boss that she wouldn't attend a meeting since it wasn't a productive use of her time.

There were three ways to deal with her: A) wait until she did it again and then confront her about it B) bite the bullet and talk to her or C) talk to her immediate superior about how to handle the situation.

Clark turned to Provost Harvey V. Fineberg '67, who was sitting in the front row, and asked him to pick the solution.

Fineberg chose B, and Clark played out the result. Sanders rocked with laughter as the simulation showed the tactless boss offending her employee, telling her she had a reputation for not being a collaborator.

"Now, as you can see," Clark joked with the audience, "Harvey's in the soup."

For some in the audience, it was more than a little amusing to watch Clark and Fineberg joshing about management style. The two are currently considered the top contenders to succeed their outgoing boss, President Neil L. Rudenstine.

Indeed, for the next year, Fineberg and Clark are in the proverbial soup--already under scrutiny by the Harvard community and the nation as the University tries to equip itself for the post-Rudenstine era.

The echoes of his resignation announcement had barely faded away before the speculation started. As the University embarks on its 27th presidential search, the possible leaders most frequently named are internal administrators with strong management and academic records.

But for the first time, those possibilities strongly reflect a University evolving in a more business-oriented, technological age.

Clark has been praised for bridging the gap between the business school--long a distant empire of its own--and the rest of the University. Popularly anointed the frontrunner, he is also known for his progressive thinking about technology. His administrative style is distinctly decentralized--and he is known for hacking away at red tape.

Fineberg, meanwhile, holds a relatively new position that--unlike a deanship--remains untested as a training ground for the Harvard presidency. Nevertheless, he is not far behind. His own interests and specialties, also focus on technology and science; he served as dean of the School of Public Health (SPH) for 13 years before his appointment as provost.

Both are widely regarded as superb candidates. But of course, things are rarely that simple. Although Clark and Fineberg have the home field advantage, Harvard politics make them more complex possibilities than they may initially seem.

Fineberg's current position may be more a liability than an asset, and Clark's business background makes some traditionalists shake their heads.

And these two are hardly the only names currently bantered around University boardrooms and conference tables. The list gleaned from people in the know suggests that only one thing is for sure: the Harvard presidential search committee's top prospects won't necessarily be coming from just the usual places. They will have to look far from Harvard's core--for example, at Stanford, to HBS and the Harvard Medical School (HMS).

How To Pick a President

Rudenstine's last day is June 30, 2001. Which means they have a year to pick. The University search engine is not officially mobilized, the committee still unformed, the search process is as yet undefined.

But using the procedure of past searches as a guide, the committee will likely include the entire Harvard Corporation, the six fellows who are both the University's highest governing body and its owners. Senior Fellow Robert G. Stone '45 will chair the group. The Corporation will pick its candidate and then ask the Board of Overseers for its consent.

"There are, in history, some times when they didn't like the choice and it took some trying for the consent to be given," says Charles P. Slichter '45, a former member of the Corporation who chaired the last presidential search. "The problem is for the Overseers to feel that they are sufficiently knowledgeable about the nominees and process to give consent."

As part of an effort to make sure this link exists, the committee will likely include several members of the Overseers, Harvard's second highest governing body.

Rudenstine has said he will not be involved. The committee is unlikely to break with tradition to include faculty members, students or alumni, and will likely be kept small in an effort to avoid publicity.

The search committee will not use an academic headhunting firm, those familiar with the process say. They don't need one. Using the Harvard network, they can reach around the globe.

Over the next year, this select group will canvass the Harvard community and groups of higher education experts, composing lists and scratching off names. In the last search, the group sent out 200,000 letters to faculty, staff, alumni and students, soliciting suggestions.

"A search process is not only a search for a person, it's also a process through which the larger community helps to identify what those larger priorities tend to be...what directions, opportunities might be most significant in the coming period of time," says Hanna H. Gray, a member of the Corporation and former president of the University of Chicago.

Former president of the Board of Overseers Charlotte P. Armstrong '49 notes that the search this time could prove to be different than in the past.

Rudenstine's predecessor, Derek C. Bok, arrived at a campus shaken by the turmoil of the 1960s. He stayed two decades, and by the time he left, the University needed to change its style of leadership.

"After 20 years of Bok, it was time for something different," Armstrong says.

But since Rudenstine's tenure only lasted a decade, the next change between leaders may not be as dramatic.

"It's not as much of a divergence from the past decade," she says.

The Names

Rudenstine is a humanist. The focus this time, however, will likely be on a different area. No one expects another English Renaissance scholar. Thus far, the pool of proposed candidates includes people with scientific, legal and business backgrounds--pragmatic fields for a pragmatic University.

While Clark and Fineberg have already drawn attention as internal favorites, a number of external possibilities with strong Harvard ties have also piqued interest.

The Dean of Stanford Law School, Kathleen M. Sullivan--a graduate of and former faculty member at Harvard Law School--is one of the country's top constitutional law experts. She is enormously popular among those who emphasize the inclusion of women as presidential possibilities--and she is Stanford's first female academic dean.

Most important: her ties to Harvard remain strong. She was here recently to deliver the first in a series of inaugural lectures honoring the new Radcliffe Institute. Fineberg introduced her in glowing terms; she was spotted chatting with Rudenstine.

But Sullivan only became the dean of Stanford Law School in 1999--leading some to question whether she could leave her job. Born in 1945, she is in fact young enough to wait another decade for the next Harvard presidential search.

Frequently mentioned as a Supreme Court nominee, she may be better suited for the bench than for Mass. Hall.

A person who has served as an Overseer and knows Sullivan personally says, "She's marvelous... but I'm not sure she wouldn't be miscast. I'm not sure it's the right use for her extraordinary skills."

Nobel Laureate Harold E. Varmus--who did graduate work in English at Harvard--has also been mentioned frequently. Formerly the director of the National Institutes of Health, Varmus moved to head the Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center in New York at the beginning of this year, prompting some to suggest that he also cannot switch jobs again so quickly.

Others suggest that the Harvard presidency's virtually unrivaled bully pulpit could pull Sullivan, Varmus and other candidates away from previous engagements.

While the majority of the candidates will come directly from academia, Harvard affiliates in Washington have an interest in the Mass. Hall office as well. A Washington source with University ties says that Secretary of the Treasury Lawrence H. Summers--who was a Harvard economics professor from 1983 to 1993--will doubtless show up on the Corporation's roster of desirables.

"He is the obvious name to think about in the world of Washington," the source says. "He has shown himself to be a surprisingly strong administrator as Secretary of the Treasury."

Summers is not the only Washington bigwig to be named. But this presidential search is also unusual in that it coincides with another: the nation's. Many of those who might be considered do not know if they will be out of work or newly appointed come January.

One such possibility: Condoleezza Rice, formerly Stanford's provost and currently Texas Gov. George W. Bush's foreign policy adviser. One of a small pool of minority administrators in academia, she has taken a year off from Stanford to assist the presumptive Republican nominee for the presidency. But she lacks one crucial factor: a Harvard connection.

"When we've got so many distinguished Harvard alumni and faculty, we don't need to go outside the family," Armstrong says. "These days, it would be an advantage with the issues being so complex to have someone who could hit the ground running."

Armstrong adds that some of the University's momentum can be lost to a president with a learning curve.

In addition, Rice is now closely associated with a conservative campaign--and Harvard is a notoriously liberal institution.

Conventional search wisdom suggests that the Corporation will be on the prowl for people with strong University ties, in their mid-40s to early 50s--people who, like Rudenstine, have the potential to spend a decade on the job.

Many of the other possibilities suggested--Dean of the Harvard Medical School (HMS) Joseph B. Martin, Duke University President Nannerl O. Keohane and Columbia University President George Rupp--are past that conventional age limit.

However, if the Corporation were enthusiastic enough about any of these candidates, it might be possible to ignore any concerns about age.

In addition, the average term of the university president is getting shorter. Slichter suggests that the next president may not stay even a decade.

"A president's decision has to do with what he wants to do and what he's done," Slichter says. "The next natural break point might be five years from now. It's a killing job."

Experts note that in recent years, university presidential searches have turned more and more to the presidents of other universities.

According to Madeleine F. Green '67, vice president of the American Council on Education, in 1998 about 20 percent of university presidents had already held the top post at another university. At private research universities like Harvard, that number inches closer to 30 percent, she says.

She hypothesizes that this is because universities are no longer as willing to take risks on candidates with less experience.

And Rudenstine thinks this trend of looking to other universities' leaders is unfortunate.

"If institutions can to some extent find leadership from within themselves, it means it's a person who's most likely to know a fair amount about how the institution works, what it's goals are what its idiosyncrasies are," Rudenstine says. "If the institution's in good shape then you may well do well to have someone who knows that to start with. I believe quite a bit in institutional loyalty."

Mean What You Say

If institutional loyalty is a prerequisite, then it seems Fineberg has it in spades.

He's got four degrees from Harvard--a bachelor's, a master's, a medical degree and a doctorate. As an undergraduate, he lived in Lowell House and studied psychology.

In his years as dean of SPH and as provost, he has developed quite a reputation. Asked to describe him, interviewees consistently came up with two adjectives: intelligent and articulate. Born in Pittsburgh in 1945, Fineberg is married to a fellow doctor.

When asked the inevitable question, Fineberg dodges.

"It seems that your name would naturally be mentioned in the search for the next Harvard president."

Silence.

"Are you interested?"

"Let me put it this way," he says. "Anyone interested in making an impact on and through higher education would be interested in the Harvard presidency."

"Now, if I applied transitive logic--you strike me as just such a person. Would you characterize yourself as such a person?"

He laughs and hesitates.

"I think I'd like to stick with what I said."

Fineberg is, for the most part, well respected within the Harvard administration. He is credited with focusing on information technology and using the interfaculty initiatives to draw the schools together. Both Vice President for Administration Sally H. Zeckhauser and Vice President for Finance Elizabeth C. "Beppie" Huidekoper say Fineberg has created his own niche.

"He has carved out his own things--his, not Neil's. That's clear now," Huidekoper says.

"He's taken a number of issues and made them his own," Zeckhauser adds.

This is no small feat in a job that Fineberg himself defines as an extension of the presidency.

The position, re-introduced by Rudenstine at the beginning of his tenure, is only nine years old--as Fineberg says, "in Harvard time that's the flick of an eyelash"--and holds dubious authority in some eyes.

"The provost position at Harvard is not a strong position, let's not kid ourselves," says Al Carnesale, the second of Rudenstine's three provosts and now the president of the University of California at Los Angeles. He compares it to the position of deputy president.

The provost advises the president in most searches, helps administer the University's central bureaucracy. Fineberg is known for his work on interfaculty initiatives, as well as on information technology.

But the provost does not have a final say in major University decisions. Does not sit as a member of the Harvard Corporation. Does not sit as a member of the deans' council. Does not appoint University deans.

"You are not going to be making the final decision. The buck never stops with you and as a result you are never sure if you are not going to be undermined...if you show your hand, that might be trumped by one of the deans or the president, where the buck does stop," the person who has served as an Overseer says.

"For someone like Provost Fineberg who was a dean and was accustomed to having the buck stop with him, that's tough," the person says.

Rudenstine says that because Harvard is less centralized than other universities, the provost necessarily has less responsibility--as does the rest of the central administration.

At other schools, he says, the provost might have jurisdiction over university funds, while at Harvard, most money matters are left up to individual deans.

Because of this decentralization, one of the provost's main responsibilities is to do "most of the thinking about the bridging together of the institution," Rudenstine says. This coordination between all deans is a project on which Rudenstine himself has put tremendous emphasis.

It's no surprise, then, that Rudenstine's cushy corner office in Mass. Hall adjoins Fineberg's, connecting the two in an architectural layout that the provost calls "symbolic."

Neil Rudenstine's taller shadow, Fineberg is even-keeled and unflappable where his boss is disarmingly guileless. Fineberg is nothing if not deliberate. One colleague dubs this physician's demeanor "bedside manner." To most central administrators, his controlled manner is admirable.

But for some University officials, that manner, along with the loosely defined position of provost, renders him something of an enigma.

"He can't really show his hand because of the position he's in," says another person who has served as an Overseer, adding that when talking to Fineberg, one cannot always tell what he is thinking.

But as one of the University's higher-ups, Fineberg is not always at liberty to say what everyone wants to hear, Huidekoper says.

"When you are in a position of administrative authority, your musings aloud can be mistaken for firm declarations of policy, so you have to be conscious of what you say. If I have felt a monitor on what I have expressed as provost, it is not from any political pressure, but from an effort to be accurate and to avoid misleading others. I have always felt free to express my views," Fineberg says in response.

Colleagues describe Fineberg as unrelentingly principled and apolitical. And Huidekoper says she considers Fineberg a "good communicator."

As provost, he faces certain communication challenges. He works closely with Rudenstine and the central administration but must also have a good relationship with the Faculty of Arts and Sciences (FAS)--which comprises 40 percent of the University. These two are historically at odds.

One point of contention has been Project ADAPT, the implementation of University-wide finance systems that was administered through Fineberg's office. The transition was particularly rough for FAS, and Fineberg wasn't able to smooth over all the ruffled feathers.

And earlier this spring, a FAS committee on resources directly called for more communication from the central administration about University finances, saying that the last time a report on the central administration's finances was released was during Carnesale's tenure as provost. According to Huidekoper, the decision to issue another such report is Fineberg's responsibility.

Some wonder if FAS tensions with the central administration could make Fineberg their victim. They think he might have a hard time becoming president without Faculty approval and support.

Fineberg's handling of the Radcliffe negotiations is also a particular point of tension among Harvard affiliates. Although Rudenstine and then-Chairman of the Radcliffe Board of Trustees Nancy-Beth G. Sheerr '71 began merger negotiations, Fineberg and Radcliffe trustee Susan Wallach continued the talks when Rudenstine and Sheerr were stymied.

In the months between the announcement that Harvard and Radcliffe would merge in April 1999 and the final paperwork in September 1999, Fineberg helped iron out the kinks. Some say Fineberg rushed to finish the job, conceding points that Harvard officials would have fought for longer.

One such instance: the merger states that Harvard cannot solicit funds from Radcliffe alumni who graduated earlier than 1977--that the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study should have the exclusive right to solicit those women.

"Those women were adamant," says the first person who has served as an Overseer. "It threatened to be a deal breaker and Harvard just wasn't willing to have the negotiations collapse over the point when everything else was in place."

To commemorate the final meeting of the Radcliffe College Board of Trustees in late September, Fineberg and Dean of FAS Jeremy R. Knowles donned frocks and sang from Gilbert and Sullivan.

But not everything after the merger was song and dance.

"Some of the women I've talked to have taken Radcliffe out of their wills now because they were interested in undergraduate education for Radcliffe," the Overseer says.

But the Overseer credits Fineberg for "consensus-building skills."

"Certainly in the Radcliffe negotiations, you just have to hand it to the man. It's like sailing--you can't go in a straight line. You have to tack," the Overseer says.

Fineberg knows the Harvard turf better than anyone, and being a provost is considered good experience for a would-be president.

"He and Neil are joint bosses in my mind," Zeckhauser says.

Indeed, earlier this year, Stanford Provost John L. Hennessy was selected that university's 10th president--after officials strongly considered Fineberg.

Taking Care of Business

Those unfamiliar with the University's inner workings might expect this search to be fairly simple--provost to president.

But following Rudenstine's announcement, speculation focused on Clark, leaving Fineberg not directly in the limelight, but on its edge.

In comparison to Fineberg with his University-wide role, Clark is an unknown commodity to much of the Harvard community. Ensconced in the carefully manicured campus across the river, he runs a school long known for its independence from the larger University.

He is credited with changing that perception.

"He's been a very good citizen of the University," says Joan Hutchins, a former president of the Board of Overseers, speaking of Clark's performance as a dean. "He has changed the whole notion of the business school throughout the University. The business school is being seen as having interest in working with the other schools and FAS."

She cites as an example the recently launched doctorate degree in information technology, offered jointly by the Department of Engineering and Applied Sciences and HBS.

But for some, Clark too raises a concern with FAS; they say that without Faculty approval, it could be difficult for him to become president. For FAS, traditionally the University's center of pure scholarship and academia, a president from the business school--with business sensibilities and motivations--might be a bitter pill to swallow.

Clark, 51 and father of seven, is particularly noted for his progressive--and aggressive--approach to technology, a real step for a school that was sometimes stodgy about change. He is known for hacking away at red tape--he is a believer in decentralization, not only between the center and the faculties but between the faculties and their departments. He is known for dispensing with time-sucking bureaucracy, like task forces and committees.

The Baker Professor of Administration, Clark grew up in Washington State and Utah, and is one Harvard degree shy of matching Fineberg. He has a bachelor's, master's and doctorate in economics--all from Harvard.

Immediately after obtaining his Ph.D, he joined the Harvard faculty. He hasn't looked back since. In 1990, he began overseeing the school's technology and operations management.

At the Internet & Society 2000 conference, Clark delivered an opening address in which he spoke about his views on technology.

"I believe that one of the biggest effects of the Internet era will be the creations of new kinds of institutions that will allow us to pursue [higher education]," Clark said the remarks.

Such remarks are in keeping with Clark's reputation for taking business risks--and could make for an interesting University approach to technology should he become president.

Clark also spoke about the value of private gain versus social gain--not something one might expect from a businessperson, he noted.

He became the business school's eighth dean in fall of 1995. Shortly after his appointment, he brought e-mail to HBS for the first time.

He was said to have beaten out 50 others--including some from outside Harvard--for the spot. At the beginning of his tenure, the school had just switched from a semester system to a year-round structure and was changing its M.B.A. program.

Now snowy-haired and a shade under six feet, he is not unlike Fineberg in his manner of speaking. He comes across as deliberately conversational, smooth and well paced. He gestures widely. A sense of humor is apparent. He is polished and expressive.

Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, Clark is the eldest son of a devout Mormon family, and is a former Eagle Scout.

He came to Harvard the fall after Fineberg graduated, intending to take pre-med courses. But struck with homesickness, he left after his first year to spend two years in Germany fulfilling his missionary obligation to the church.

When he returned, he went not to Harvard, but to Brigham Young University, where he met and married his wife. A year later, newly primed for the challenges of the ivory tower, the Dudley House affiliate returned to Cambridge and became a standout in the economics department.

He declined to comment for this article.

The Sound of Silence

When candidates' names become public--especially those from other institutions--resulting media attention can sometimes cause promising people to withdraw their names, Slichter says.

"I think that is a very complicated business," Gray says. "One does need to respect the privacy of those under consideration. If people think everything is going to be public they become far more cautious."

There are those, however, who feel that the committee has a responsibility to be forthcoming with its community.

"It's really important that the process be as open and transparent as possible, and that people have a sense of not so much who the candidates are, but of what the criteria are that are being used," says Gay W. Seidman '78, a professor at the University of Wisconsin and an Overseer during the last search.

Seidman, who is also a former Crimson executive, says that during the last search, she was unclear on what criteria were being used to create the final list of possibilities.

The Corporation, however, is legendary for its secrecy, and the search process is unlikely to be the exception.

But dubious hints are already filtering through. On Monday, MSNBC cited an anonymous Harvard source who allegedly confirmed that the University had expressed an interest in Hillary Rodham Clinton, the first lady and Democratic candidate for senator in New York.

University spokesperson Joe Wrinn declined to comment on the story or the search. But no doubt the rumor will not be the last of the wild guesses.

The search for Harvard's next president starts for real this summer in Loeb House, the home of the Harvard Corporation.

It ends across the Yard, in Massachusetts Hall, where in Neil Rudenstine's old seat, a mystery academic will puzzle out Harvard's future.

--Erica B. Levy contributed to the reporting of this article.