"What is my purpose in life?”

It’s the sort of philosophical dilemma that any member of last year’s graduating class might have put to Richard Allen ’78, who sat at a table in New York City’s Union Square last year offering free advice to passersby.

It’s also a question that Allen, who holds a Ph.D. in philosophy, may likely have asked himself—repeatedly.

Some three decades since he penned “undecided” on his first-year study card, Allen, who goes by Rick, has made a career out of attempting to answer such questions—for himself and others.

His zeal for self-discovery has led him on a winding, uncharted route worthy of Socrates, from the student’s desk to the teacher’s podium to that table in Union Square, with stops in Sussex and Zimbabwe along the way.

“I wanted to see things from another perspective for a change,” he says about his year teaching science in a Zimbabwean high school, but he could just as easily be describing his entire raison d’etre.

‘What Should I Get Out of College?’

Allen’s years at Harvard were defined by a smattering of classes on the “philosophy of mind,” late-night moral debates with roommates and heavy reading, all of which contributed to “developing one’s worldview,” he says over the phone from his Brooklyn apartment. “That seems to be mostly what I’m about, as opposed to occupational success. Harvard was a good place to do that.”

Allen started developing his worldview early in life. Born in Madison, N.J., Allen was 12 when his family moved to “exotic” western Virginia, where he attended the all-male Woodberry Forest boarding school. While his parents encouraged him to study hard (he started reading at age three) it was in high school that he became exposed to the sort of philosophical exploration that would later become his passion.

His two favorite teachers—one of whom taught Allen Far Eastern philosophy—were Harvard grads and encouraged him to apply.

With a stellar high school record, Allen arrived in the Yard with wide eyes and an “overly optimistic, somewhat naïve confidence in myself”—a confidence partly quashed by a first-semester cell biology grade of “C+.” Nevertheless he chose to pursue his scientific interests, taking pre-med courses and choosing to concentrate in psychology. In his sophomore year, Allen fell in love twice—first with Joy A. Maulitz ’78, a classmate at Radcliffe, and then with philosophy.

“I realized the only reason I was interested in the psychology are the philosophical issues,” he says. “After you finish reading these [psychological] studies you’re still left with all these questions.”

Allen’s pursuit of answers to moral questions led him to take a smattering of philosophy courses, an approach that allowed his vast curiosity to roam in all directions. Even though he received his degree in psychology, what Allen really wanted was to pursue his philosophical inquiries.

“He was always infinitely curious and questioning, yet with a very down to earth sense of humor,” says David Sidman ’78, Allen’s three-time roommate, now the CEO of his own Internet startup. “I remember once we were watching ‘Star Trek’ after dinner in the Union [the old student dining hall], and in this episode the Enterprise encounters a giant spinning cube in space. Rick turned to me and mused, ‘Does God play dice with the universe?’”

In the spring of his senior year, Allen was still enrolled in organic chemistry, the most tortuous of pre-med classes, despite having given up on his pre-med program. Joy, by then his ex-girlfriend, told him later that her roommate had seen him at the exam.