Harvard students are not supposed to need advice. The student body is composed of high school overachievers who, ultra-competent and highly organized, were perhaps even attracted by the University’s “hands-off” advising approach when applying. But despite our competent beginnings, many students at some point falter in their navigation of Harvard’s overwhelming academic options and social demands. On these occasions, the support on offer is paltry. In response to student dissatisfaction, the advising structure is regularly reviewed and reformed. However, perhaps the real concern is not the advising system, but the tutor selection process itself.

After all, on paper, the University’s advising system seems to provide a strong source of support and guidance. The myriad structure of advisors includes resident tutors, sophomore advisors, and concentration advisors, while the Office of Admissions promises on its website many “festive receptions offering a congenial setting for informal contact between student and faculty” in residential advising. The reality, however, does not measure up to this theoretical depiction.

Despite the assured support, I have no idea who my concentration advisor is and don’t believe I ever met my sophomore advisor. Furthermore, although many of the house tutors are wonderful, I’ve also had several disappointing experiences—such as one tutor who patently refused to acknowledge my presence with even a smile, or another house tutor who lied to avoid giving me advice, or the government concentration advisor who didn’t know that Hist A-12 (one of the four major government introductory courses) counts as a government course. I could go on.

For students to receive proper support, academic advisors should have considerable knowledge of Harvard’s curriculum and residential tutors should have the time to guide students in a particular field, be it fellowships or public service. Moreover, tutors should be able to advise on personal worries at least at a basic level, although UHS should be the primary resource for mental health concerns. Ideally, there should be at least one tutor per house with significant mental health experience and, in an environment as fraught as Harvard’s, all advisors should have primary mental health awareness training to be able to spot those students with serious anxieties. A fortnightly study break simply doesn’t cut it.

The onus is on those individual tutors who cannot offer what their job title suggests, and as such, the University should reform its selection process to admit better-prepared tutors. Residential tutors should be selected solely on their ability to help students, and the pool should not be limited only to graduate students. Indeed, the current high proportion of Harvard graduates serving as in-house advisors means that many tutors do not have time to fulfil their role. As the selection process for tutors is incredibly competitive, the administration should be able to find tutors with a sincere interest in the job itself, not simply the free housing.

Yet the simplest and most effective means to improve Harvard’s advising system would be to allow students to evaluate their advisors. Just as freshmen respond to an online questionnaire about their proctors and the just as the Cue guide assesses professors, so should students be able to give considerable feedback about those whose primary job it is to “advise” them. If these student evaluations are taken into account when considering whether advisors will retain their posts, then the quality of advising at Harvard will undoubtedly improve.

The potential benefits of sincere and devoted advisors should not be underestimated. Well-informed concentration advisors significantly affect an educational experience, while house tutors who are genuinely concerned about student welfare considerably heighten the sense of community and individual student well-being. At this top-ranking university, student dissatisfaction is the one area where we rank consistently low, and these simple steps to improve the undergraduate experience should be taken without delay.

Until then, I suppose I’ll keep searching for those “festive receptions.”

Olivia M. Goldhill ’11, a Crimson editorial writer, is a philosophy concentrator in Kirkland House.