The Dunlop committee's composition also reflects, on a really high plane, the general effort for committee memberships on broad issues to be balanced among the natural sciences, social sciences, and humanities.
Ford says he prefers special committees to be fairly small, that is, between seven and nine members. The largest committee now going has "something like 15" members, he says. Large committees have a difficulty rounding up their members for meetings.
Once a committee's report is in to the Faculty, its members--particularly its chairman--may have the additional task of explaining and/or defending its proposals before the Faculty or other bodies with power to act on them.
Generally, however, a committee's recommendations are accepted with out much fuss, unless there are physical (i.e., financial) limitations present. Recommendations get by easily for the same reason committees exist--most Faculty members do not feel competent to dispute proposals by colleagues who have devoted time and effort to them.
Ford feels that one reason for the Doty report's problems in the Faculty was that "just about everyone in the community thinks he knows what Gen Ed is." It's a "gut issue" around here, he says.
Committees have a bad reputation in most circles, but they appear to be one of Harvard's strengths. They allow the University to adapt fairly quickly when confronted with new challenges that established machinery has never coped with before.
"We're rather lucky," Ford says of Harvard's experience, constantly increasing, with committees. Other schools have had not great success with them, he says. He credits Harvard's long tradition of Faculty control. That tradition is so strong here, that Faculty members--if not deliriously happy to be tapped for committee membership, do at least recognize it as a part of their functions here, and perform, when asked, with dedication and competence.
A camel, they say, is a horse made by committee. Harvard is made by committees, and seems to be one of the best-running camels around