Does Harvard have no soul? In his book Excellence Without a Soul, Harvard College’s former dean, Harry Lewis, is convinced that “Harvard today tiptoes away from moral education” (Lewis, page 96). Like anything else, Harvard isn’t perfect. The first time Harvard let female students study in its halls wasn’t because it believed in gender equality but because men were drafted during the Second World War. But we must acknowledge that despite Harvard’s dark past, it keeps moving forward to become a better, more caring institution. We can acknowledge this through the words and example of Lawrence S. Bacow, Harvard’s 29th and current president, who is the son of a Holocaust survivor. He serves as shining proof that Harvard has a soul; that much is reflected in his letters. Naturally, I chose him as the subject for my CEO rhetorical analysis because, as the president of a local coding school, I want to learn from such a successful yet humble president. I believe it’s beneficial to learn President Bacow’s rhetoric at a time when strong yet humane leadership is needed more than ever. From his passive yet vivid voice that unites his readers to his skillful uses of pointer words that illuminate a case by answering the so what? and who cares? questions, this rhetorical analysis analyzes how Bacow’s rhetoric makes him sound relatable and, by extension, helps lend the image of a caring patron to Harvard. Three selected letters for this study are: “Climate Change: Update on Harvard Action,” “Message from President Bacow to Imam Khalil Abdur-Rashid,” and “What I believe.”
His candid and vivid letters seek to unite people without blaming others. There’re a few grammatical errors in his brief letters written in plain, clear English. Blaise Pascal, a mathematician best known for Pascal’s triangle, once concedes when addressing a letter to the Jesuits: “The present letter is a very long one, simply because I had no leisure to make it shorter” (Pascal et al., page 392). Writers know it takes longer time to write less and still convey information effectively. Bacow’s letters are concise at around 600 words on average; he cares what he writes. His sentences are mostly right-branched, meaning a subject precedes a verb. For example, his climate change letter convinces: “Climate change is the most consequential threat facing humanity” (Bacow 2021). Interestingly, all of his letters’ openings are right-branched, specifying who (or what) does what, which indicates an active voice. For comparison, the opening of his letter to Imam Khalil upholds: “The horrific shootings at the mosque in Christchurch shock the conscience” (Bacow 2019). Again, the subject is established early on. This active voice helps build the image of a confident and credible writer. Moreover, he uses a strong verb like “shock” instead of a weaker one, such as is shocking. Yet he also uses passive voice for a rhetorical effect to dramatically highlight the action’s target while keeping his readers united, such as when he points out: “Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated” (Bacow 2020), or how shocking “the senseless killing of yet another black person—George Floyd—at the hands of those charged with protecting us” (Bacow 2020). Incidentally, or perhaps not, both individuals are people of color. Those are sensitive issues, yet he focused more on the victim and less on the perpetrator to make himself relatable to all spectrums. Consequently, he unites his readers for a cause by avoiding blaming games that divide them into camps. Notwithstanding, his indirectness is compensated by vivid language that helps us extrapolate the subject.
President Bacow also presents himself as if he and his readers are partners, making him even more relatable. To ensure that he and his readers share some level of understanding about an issue, he furnishes pointing words with an appropriate noun and a sensory adjective. That is, he is hesitant to let words like this or that go unseasoned. For example, in a letter about the Christchurch mass shooting, President Bacow conveyed how “this heinous act is not just an offense against Islam, it is an offense against all people of faith” (Bacow 2019). Though he could have written this is not just an offense against Islam, he specifically describes the act as heinous. No moral being will think a cold-blooded massacre of unsuspecting civilians is all right. He argues that the act is an offense against all people of faith. He felt the pain as if it were his own. A soulless Harvard won’t have a president who bothers to address a case happening in a faraway land that hardly disturbs the experience of the majority at Harvard. This way, again, he presents himself to be relatable and all-embracing. He is like you and me while being president of an elite, privileged, honored university.
Other than making the case clear (the so what? question), the overall surrounding sentences around the furnished pointer words are written in such a way as to let the reader empathize early on by addressing the who cares? question. Looking back again in his “What I believe” letter, he advances a case and makes himself relatable as he affirms: “In the midst of this incomprehensible loss, our nation has once again been shocked by the senseless killing of yet another black person—George Floyd—at the hands of those charged with protecting us” (Bacow 2020). The word senseless is an intense adjective that means wildly foolish. Again, we can see his pointer words are decorated in a format we can expect: an intense adjective followed by a noun. To boot, his vivid remark of “the senseless killing of yet another black person” answers the so what? question by maintaining that an injustice has been done repeatedly. This sentence also answers the who cares? question being the American nation. His rhetoric masterfully answers both the so what? and the who cares?questions, effectively helping his readers to empathize and connect from the get-go.
President Bacow makes his writing even more relatable to the reader by using the rule of three to drive home his argument. The rule of three refers to a trio of words, phrases, or sentences that deliver vividly comparable cases. His use of the rule of three falls into one of two objectives, the first being simply laying out some evidence. In his climate change letter, for example, he elaborates on how “[t]he last several months have laid at our feet undeniable evidence of the world to come—massive fires that consume entire towns, unprecedented flooding that inundates major urban areas, record heat waves and drought (sic) that devastate food supplies and increase water scarcity” (Bacow 2021). His skillful use of the rule drives home as much relevant experience as possible to make his case relatable. Thus, even if the reader doesn’t have a first-hand experience of being choked by haze, Bacow’s rhetorical strategy enables them to feel that the weather has been getting hotter for years. In another example, he invites his readers to understand that America was not at her best as he enumerates: “Cities are erupting. Our nation is deeply divided. Leaders who should be bringing us together seem incapable of doing so” (Bacow 2020). His second use of the rule of three is to construct parallels so that his readers feel that they are in this together. After referring to the shooting as a heinous act, for example, President Bacow pleads: “Whether something like this occurs at a church in South Carolina, a synagogue in Pittsburgh or a mosque in New Zealand, acts of hate and violence touch us all” (Bacow 2019). Notice how he splices three Abrahamic religions into the list to make a parallel. True, there must be readers who don’t subscribe to any of those religions—or any religion at all. Still, since Christianity and Islam are the two largest religions by the number of adherents alone, with Judaism having a significant presence in places like Harvard, most readers should feel directly related to a given issue. If that sounds like an exaggeration, readers should at least understand that the issue cannot be seen in isolation. This skillful use of the rule of three helps his arguments ring as truly and as closely as possible to the reader’s heart.
After he advances a case while making himself relatable to his readers, his concluding paragraph seeks to deliver a shared vision in a forward-looking tone by offering hope. However, when the mood is bleak, the president would extend his empathy instead. Regardless, a shared vision will be shaped. This concluding paragraph should convince both within and outside the Harvard community that Harvard has a soul. In his letter about climate change, for example, he states: “I believe that any problem caused by people can be solved by people too. If that seems overly optimistic, so be it. We are going to need a little optimism to preserve life on Earth as we know and cherish it today” (Bacow 2021). By saying so be it, which is an ironic understatement, a litotes, he assures his readers to be as optimistic as himself. In fact, this statement challenges his readers to be more optimistic than him. The by people highlights the fact that we humans are unique in that we have the agency to be both troublemakers and problem solvers. Also, this is an anaphora, a repeated use of words such as “go big or go home” that can strengthen a message by making it more persuasive. A shared vision with direct references to Harvard is sometimes put literally, such as when he acknowledges that Harvard has a role to play when he maintains: “Those of us privileged to work or study at a place like this bear special responsibilities” (Bacow 2020). Harvard, if soulless, would not compel its community to reflect on their privilege, let alone ask them to use their agency to make a positive impact.
Though many view Harvard as belonging in a stratosphere of its own, that doesn’t mean Harvard should detach itself from the grassroots. Lawrence S. Bacow, who holds a special position as a president of Harvard University, exemplifies this. His message is all-embracing and relatable, written in a language most people understand. We cannot trace any superior, churlish tone in his letters. Indeed, as most people would consider his words and that of Harvard synonymous, his rhetoric ultimately lends Harvard the image of a caring patron. More than just talks and no actions, under his leadership, Harvard initiated the Harvard and the Legacy of Slavery movement. He also led Harvard in defending international students from unjust immigration rulings that sought to deport them during the COVID-19 pandemic. He cares about social issues, from terrorism to climate change. Whatever he did, he has proven that Harvard has a soul. That a person of such a humble origin can earn Harvard’s confidence shows the kind of soul the institution has. Now, to copy President Bacow’s rhetoric: may Harvard stays in truth.
Works Cited
- Bacow, Lawrence S. “Climate Change: Update on Harvard Action.” Harvard Office of the President, 9 Sept. 2021.
- Bacow, Lawrence S. “What I Believe.” Harvard Office of the President, 30 May 2020.
- Bacow, Lawrence S. “Message from President Bacow to Imam Khalil Abdur-Rashid.” Harvard Office of the President, 15 Mar. 2019.
- Lewis, Harry R. “The Eternal Enigma: Advising.” Excellence Without a Soul: Does Liberal Education Have a Future?, Public Affairs, New York, NY, 2007.
- Pascal, Blaise, et al. “Letter XVI.” The Provincial Letters of Blaise Pascal: A New Translation with Historical Introduction and Notes. Hurd and Houghton, New York, NY, 1866.