“I didn’t know anyone in the institution. I didn’t have a clue who to choose,” he explains.

And so the search processes began.

Just as members of the Harvard Corporation had painstakingly sifted through files and biographies in their search for the 26th Harvard President, Rudenstine embarked on his own methodical hunt, “trying to get to know people inside and outside the institution.”

Yet again, Rudenstine proved himself to be an unpresidential president. As Huidekoper points out, “Most presidents don’t do their own searches.”

“This is a process in which Neil has always been deeply engaged,” Carnesale observed.

Rudenstine reorganized the administration so that the Deans were not only worked on behalf of their specific Schools, but also on behalf of the University as a whole. They became, in effect, a consultative cabinet.

“If you’re going to have a system where every tub is on its own bottom, you’d better have an outstanding captain for each tub, and those are the deans,” Carnesale said.

But Rudenstine’s most significant change to Harvard’s administration was the recreation of the provost position, which had been eliminated by Pusey. Rudenstine envisioned the Provost as a “cloned president,” as not only a tool for delegation, but also a means of unifying the University. The Office of the Provost oversaw interfaculty initiatives, for example—one of Rudenstine’s favorite projects, which unified academic interests—like Mind, Brain and Behavior—across the schools. Some still debate the definition of the position, which is young in the span of Harvard history and still evolving.

Rudenstine selected Jerry R. Green, an economics professor, to be his first Provost. But Green resigned a year later, after reported irreconcilable disputes. After his resignation, Green was quick to point out Rudenstine’s flaws, accusing him of being overly focused on College-related issues and overlooking more pragmatic matters. Green’s successor, Carnesale, went from the provostship to the presidency of the University of California at Los Angeles. The third provost, Fineberg, defines his job:

“In my mind the most important function of the provost is to serve as the deputy to the president. You want someone who has a complementary personality to the president, who can stop in and chat for 10 minutes at the end of the day.”

Once he began his Harvard tenure. Rudenstine quickly earned the reputation of a voracious learner and listener—a distinction that would only grow as time went by. Ten years later, many still vividly remember their first encounters with Rudenstine. From Mass. Hall meetings to Lowell House teas, Rudenstine made a notable first impression.

In his initial meeting with Rudenstine, Dean of Faculty Jeremy R. Knowles remembers, “I saw him as he is: an infinitely thoughtful and charming man, intellectually serious and wide-ranging, engaging, and having a wonderful (and sometimes whimsically distilled) sense of humor.”

When asked by a group of alumni to describe the new “Rudenstine Harvard” in two words, Knowles replied, “global warming.”

“He learns from everything. He observes a lot—the surface conversation, the subtext, the demeanor, the tone,” says Fineberg.