When Neil L. Rudenstine took over the Harvard administration in 1991, he said he would stay for ten years. Somehow, no one seems to have believed him.

As Rudenstine checked off goal after goal that he had set for himself, University insiders began to predict that Rudenstine would stay on a few years into 2000 in order to enjoy his legacy.

Rudenstine was, in his own way, ambitious, aiming to redefine the nature of the job that was bestowed upon him, and along with it, the way the University functioned. And he aimed to rake in a pile of cash.

Mild-mannered Neil Leon Rudenstine--Princeton graduate, Rhodes scholar, poetry professor--got off to a rocky start with his big plans, literally collapsing in exhaustion, having to take a month off and go to the beach. But, after resolving to write fewer of his trademark handwritten thank-you notes, Rudenstine returned in time to see his labor pay extraordinary dividends.

Nonetheless, says former president of the Harvard Overseers Charlotte H. Armstrong '49, "It's an absolute backbreaker of a job," and for Rudenstine, it was simply time to leave. Through his sixties, he has worked 90-hour weeks and traveled constantly in order to leave his mark on Harvard.

That mark will be important, if not profound. Rudenstine did what needed to be done, addressing the unglamorous task of modernizing university management. But in other ways, Rudenstine's tenure has stripped Harvard of strong leadership in the presidency and equipped the University with far quieter a voice in American society than his predecessors enjoyed.

Raising Money, Changing Culture

Ten years ago, Harvard was in a bit of trouble. Endowment returns were low and various branches of the University were running annual deficits. Harvard may have been prestigious, but it was also quickly becoming poor.