Concentration Requirements
Social Studies 10
Social Studies 98
Thematic Courses
Social Studies 99
Economics
Statistics & Quantitative Reasoning
Philosophy of the Social Sciences
Related Courses
Senior Oral Examinations
Courses that Automatically Count in Social Studies
In 1960, in proposing to the Faculty of Arts and Sciences a new concentration in Social Studies, the planning committee made no reference to any other teaching program in Harvard College by way of intellectual precedent. There was a passing allusion to History and Literature, but only to argue that an interdisciplinary concentration could work and to defend against the charge that Social Studies might take away all the “top students” from other departments. Even so, the idea of such a program cannot be understood outside of the institutional and historical context. Harvard University had a long history of what we would call interdisciplinary instruction. The departments as we know them are a fairly recent creation. At the end of the last century and the beginning of this, the Faculty was grouped into “divisions,” standing committees for the organization and provision of instruction. One of these was established in 1891 as the Division of History and Political Science, comprising the departments of History, Political Economy, and Roman Law; and the name was changed to History, Government, and Economics in December 1910. Not until the fall of 1939 did departments become the primary subdivisions of the Faculty, and even then some divisions remained for purposes of interdepartmental instruction and thesis supervision. Thus the Division of History, Government and Economics continued to recommend candidates for degrees until 1952, and the three disciplines had a combined tutorial office until July 1960.
This dissolution of divisions was part of a larger tendency to specialization reflecting a heightened disciplinary consciousness. (Another example was the abandonment of a short-lived doctoral program in Social Science.) As the content of disciplinary preparation increased, outside materials were crowded out, with some loss of intellectual breadth and versatility. This did not trouble those specialists who prized the depth and rigor of disciplinary training. But it did bother the generalists, who lamented the narrowing focus of intellectual inquiry and the fragmentation of knowledge.
It is no accident, then, that a proposal for an experimental undergraduate program in Social Studies was put forward at this time. It represented an effort to provide a small number of students with an intellectual alternative, to enable them “to concentrate on certain groups of problems or on certain areas which the division into separate departments splits somewhat artificially.” Stanley Hoffmann, speaking for the planning committee and proposing the new concentration to the Faculty (March 1, 1960), deplored the difficulty of transcending disciplinary lines in fields where the leading intellectual figures had done just that: “There is a considerable body of literature now in existence from men whom it is difficult to define sharply as either political scientists, or historians, or sociologists.” And there, in germ, was the philosophy that today underlies the sophomore tutorial in social science greats, Social Studies 10.
Reading between the lines of Faculty debate, it is clear that one of the major fears was that the proposed concentration might be too successful, that is, grow at the expense of the departments. One historian expressed concern that the original 25 students mentioned in the docket proposal would necessarily grow as new classes were admitted: 25 would become 50 and then 75, and then what? It was important, he said, not to use students as guinea pigs. To placate such objectors, the Dean offered at once to reduce the entering group to 15. To which another faculty member replied by questioning whether it paid to place “the best facilities of the Faculty at the disposal of fifteen students.” This might leave other students deprived, and it would surely increase and complicate the administrative apparatus. “We are loaded now,” he said, “with administrative machinery, and this addition may produce cross-sterilization.” To which a defender of the proposal (Prof. Alexander Gerschenkron, economic historian and member of the first Committee on Social Studies) replied that “this was a very small offering and it will always remain small.”
Another concern, not unreasonable, was that such an interdisciplinary program might serve as cover for dilettantish superficiality. One economist asked, why not a combination of Philosophy, Physics, and Literature? (One can see that Faculty debates were much wittier and more amusing in those days.) Another said that all the allegedly interdisciplinary areas suggested by way of example fell easily into one or another department with a few outside courses by way of distribution.
To counter such arguments, the proponents of the program laid great stress on intellectual rigor. Social Studies, said Stanley Hoffmann, would not be allowed to become an “intellectual cafeteria.” And Prof. Gerschenkron, a man of ferociously high standards, moved to reassure his colleagues: “The virtue now, and in the future, of the program will be its attractiveness to the very good student who must have the ability to deal with abstractions on various levels and who must be a voracious reader.”
Whether this is the virtue of the program is for students to judge and prove. Our main concern remains, as foreshadowed in these early debates, to maintain discipline in freedom, to help students learn a core while gaining an overview, to teach them to read fast, assimilate thoroughly, understand and criticize, and build on all this to do original work. This is not an easy task, which is why Social Studies has always been a demanding concentration, rather than the cake walk that some originally feared. Contrary to some of those early promises, it has grown, not as large as it could, not to the point of admitting all applicants (we have space and time problems), but to the point of being one of the largest concentrations in Harvard College; and this growth has been achieved in the face of heavier and more stringent requirements. We take in over one hundred students a year, and the vast majority of these complete the program with honors—more than half with high and highest honors. Much of this success is due to the quality of the student body; and much to the talent and commitment of an exceptional teaching staff. Social Studies faculty are both teachers and scholars, and good at each because of the other. They give more; but that means they also ask for more. And the students respond.
This Handbook is intended to give prospective and current concentrators an idea of what Social Studies has to offer and to assist them in making the most of their opportunities and ability.
Good luck and happy reading!
David S. Landes