The content of ‘character’
Ican’t help but think that Harvard’s rescission of its offer of admission to Kyle Kashuv says a lot more about the institution than it does about Kashuv himself. Reasonable minds can differ about the wisdom of Harvard’s decision. The young man’s use of what he himself terms “abhorrent racist slurs” would give any admissions committee pause. But Kashuv was a child. He is still just 18 years old. Moreover, he has a compelling claim of what lawyers term “detrimental reliance” — he gave up other scholarship opportunities based on Harvard’s offer to join the class of 2023. Given his SAT of 1550 and weighted GPA of 5.345, this claim seems highly credible.
Whatever one’s view, though, it’s almost impossible to defend the procedure by which Harvard reached its decision and articulated it to Kashuv and the thousands of potential future applicants (and current college students) who want to know how their past actions will be evaluated.
Harvard afforded Kashuv almost no due process. On May 24, the dean of admissions, William Fitzsimmons, wrote Kashuv to say that the admissions
committee had become aware of his offending statements. He asked Kashuv to provide a full accounting of those statements and an explanation for his actions by May 28.
Kashuv’s reply is extraordinary. I’ve read student work for 20 years. His letter (composed in less than four days) is as well written as any college paper that I’ve ever seen. More importantly, it’s contrite and thoughtful about the ways that he has evolved and hopes to continue to grow. In return, Kashuv received a perfunctory reply from Fitzsimmons withdrawing his offer of admissions and stating that the admissions committee “takes seriously the qualities of maturity and moral character.” Harvard cowardly denied Kashuv’s request for a personal meeting. From his standpoint, it must feel as if the Star Chamber peered into his soul and deemed his character wanting.
This business of determining “character” should give us all pause, especially when it’s Harvard doing the soul-peering. The history of the word is fraught. When Jewish enrollment increased during the 1920s, Harvard and several other Ivy League institutions responded by saying that academics would no longer be the sole admissions criterion. Instead, lineage and “character” would be considered. Good character often meant the proper ethnic affiliation.
This history is hardly ancient. During the course of the pending lawsuit brought by a group of Asian-American applicants who were denied admission to Harvard, it emerged that the university generally rated Asian-American applicants lower than other applicants on character traits such as courage and kindness, according to an analysis of more than 160,000 admissions applications.
Generally speaking, vague, subjective criteria judged by unaccountable actors are invitations to effectuate prejudice and discrimination. It’s this mechanism that explains why white job applicants fare so much better than minority applicants with similar credentials, and why, as brilliantly exposed by Emily Bazelon in her new book “Charged,” prosecutors can reach vastly different decisions regarding criminal defendants of different races. It’s impossible not to imagine how Kashuv’s case would have been judged if he were, say, the son of a wealthy donor or a head of state. It’s also impossible not to imagine how many poor children of color have been denied admissions over the years because of questions about their character. The way for Harvard to address these questions is to issue clear guidelines about what behavior is expected of potential applicants and current students. If, for example, Harvard had a clear prohibition against the use of racist language by potential applicants, then Kashuv wouldn’t have a leg to stand on. But Harvard, which has its own problematic history of profiting from slavery, avoids such specifics in admissions criteria because it wants the flexibility to let in who it wants. A disproportionate amount of the time these are the rich, white children of Harvard alums.
Considering this reality, one can’t help but ask whether Harvard lacks the standing to judge the character of Kashuv — or anyone else.
Mandery, who graduated from Harvard in 1989, is a professor at John Jay College of Criminal Justice.