America has long fancied itself a meritocracy, and American universities have a reputation as the world's best. Both of these premises are now under serious doubt.
A recent study of Harvard's admissions practices leaves me with the queasy feeling that America's top schools are bastions of self-replicating privilege, far worse than what most people think. The study draws upon the data generated by the lawsuit against Harvard alleging that it discriminates against Asian-American applicants.
The most shocking number in the paper is this: Of the white students admitted to Harvard, more than 43% are in the so-called ALDC category — that is, they are recruited athletes, legacy admissions, applicants on the "dean's interest" list and children of Harvard faculty and staff. Furthermore, in the model constructed by the authors, three quarters of those applicants would have been rejected if not for their ALDC status.
The inescapable conclusion from all this is that Harvard is not, in fact, obsessed with admitting the best people. Instead, wealth and family connections play an outsized role in determining who gets a chance at attending Harvard and attaining additional wealth and family connections.
This sentence from the paper, which examined admissions figures for six admissions cycles, reinforces that view: "The admit rate for legacy applicants over this period was 33.6%, which is 5.7 times higher than the admit rate for non-legacy applicants."
Now consider that America's top universities are among the most ideologically "left-wing" institutions in the country. At Harvard, for instance, 84% of faculty donations to political parties and political action committees from 2011 to 2014 went in the Democratic direction. The Democrats, of course, are supposed to be the party opposed to income inequality. So what has gone wrong here? Why should these elites be trusted?
If any institution should be able to buck social trends, it is Harvard. It has an endowment of about $39 billion (circa 2018), its top administrators are employable elsewhere, and most of its significant faculty hold tenured positions. It might also have the world's best academic reputation, and it could fill its entering class with top students even after taking a big reputational or financial hit.
As a Harvard alumnus (Ph.D. economics, 1987), and as someone who receives royalties from two books published by Harvard University Press, I wish to think well of the place. I also know and deeply respect many people associated with Harvard. Still, it seems to me that Harvard, as an institution, is devoted not to righting social wrongs or making America a better country, but to maximizing its own power and influence.