By Peter Carlson
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
They pass among us undetected. They look like us, walk like us and talk like us, albeit with higher-falutin words, such as "albeit."
In a top-secret process, they are chosen for their superhuman powers of cogitation and cerebration. They are carefully selected and carefully trained in arcane arts and mystifying sciences, then sent out to conquer the world.
And they do. There are only about 320,000 of them -- barely one-tenth of 1 percent of America -- yet they include six of the nine judges on the Supreme Court, 15 percent of current governors, 17 percent of U.S. senators, 40 of the billionaires on the Forbes 400 list and one out of every six American presidents, including the current one.
And now they have their own magazine. It's called "02138" -- a meaningless number to the rest of us but full of resonance for them: It's the Zip code of the school that trained them to rule -- Harvard University.
"02138 is a new lifestyle magazine for a unique community of educated, affluent and influential readers: Harvard alumni," proclaims one of the many pages of hype that came to me in a folder made from a suedelike substance so soft and velvety that I'm thinking of having a jacket made out of it. "02138 will deliver the world to our readers from the perspective they care about most -- their own."
02138 has no official connection with Harvard. It is bankrolled by David Bradley, the Washington-based magazine mogul who publishes the Atlantic Monthly and National Journal and who -- surprise ! -- went to grad school at Harvard.
The first issue of this new bimonthly has just appeared and it includes "The Harvard 100," a list of "the most influential alumni" ranked in order of just how important they are. No. 1 is Bill Gates, the world's richest man, who dropped out of Harvard to found a little company called Microsoft. No. 2 is George W. Bush. "The nation's first MBA president is a fifth-generation Yalie," the magazine notes, "but his epoch-making style of governance suggests that Bush learned everything he needed to know at Harvard Business School."
Which suggests a question: Is that an ad for the B-school or an indictment of it?
On and on the list goes -- chairman of the Fed, chief justice of the Supreme Court, secretary of the Treasury, the finance minister of India. Plus Ted Kennedy, John Abizaid, Matt Damon, Bill Frist, Margaret Atwood, Barack Obama, John Updike, Yo-Yo Ma, Meg Whitman, Natalie Portman, Pete Seeger and a slew of professional opinion-slingers -- Andrew Sullivan, Jim Cramer, Frank Rich, Fareed Zakaria, Bill O'Reilly and Al Franken.
"In the end, we had enough names for the Harvard 200 or 300," the editors note in the kind of casually smug statement that seems so very . . . well, Harvard.
But the smugness is eased, somewhat, by another list -- "The Crimson 5: Harvard's Most Embarrassing Alumni," which includes Enron crook Jeffrey Skilling, a geneticist and child molester named W. French Anderson, and Rep. William Jefferson (D-La.), who was raided by the FBI in August and found to have $90,000 hidden in his freezer. Inexplicably missing from the list was the Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski, Class of 1962. I'd say he's pretty embarrassing. But what do I know? I went to BU.
02138 also includes Pulitzer Prize-winning reporter Dan Golden's exposé of how Harvard's admissions process gives preferences to the children of alumni, particularly alumni who donate scads of money to the school -- a sort of affirmative action program for rich people. That article demonstrates 02138's admirable willingness to criticize Harvard. But it's kind of nullified by a tongue-in-cheek sidebar advising readers on how to take advantage of those preferences.
All in all, 02138 is an attractive and entertaining magazine. The only problem is this: There's too much stuff about Harvard.
Don't go looking for 02138 on newsstands. Newsstands are too plebeian, and too easily accessible to Yalies and other lowlifes. But you can get a subscription -- or a free copy -- at the magazine's Web site, http://www.02138mag.com .Inside the Baby Business
Making babies sure has gotten complicated.
Back in the old days, you did the deed and hoped for the best. But now there are more options and technologies available. These technologies are a blessing for folks unable to reproduce in the standard manner, but new methods have also spawned a bizarre new business -- selling human eggs.
"In December 2005, I flew to Chicago, underwent general anesthesia, endured a minor medical procedure and sold 12 ova to a pair of strangers for $10,000," writes Kerry Howley in Reason, the libertarian magazine. "Like thousands of other women that year, I joined in an assembly-line production of a human embryo."
That process, she says, is "a bizarre juxtaposition of crass commerce and high rhetoric." It is also, she adds, "not unlike buying a used car."
Howley makes no bones about why she sold her eggs: She was in it solely for the $10,000. Starting out was easy. She simply Googled "egg donor" and found countless Web sites eager to match her up with women desperate for fertile eggs. She filled out an application, answered a slew of personal questions and posted her picture on a database she likens to "a mail-order bride catalog with SAT scores."
Within a day, several women were begging for her eggs: "For what initially seemed like a ridiculously inflated price, they were lining up."
But soon the process got tougher. Howley flew from Washington to Chicago, where she was inspected by a fertility doctor. For several weeks, she injected a variety of fertility drugs three times a day. Then she went to a Washington fertility doctor, who was disappointed in her egg production. So she increased the dosage of the drugs, then flew to Chicago, where she spent five days "being poked, prodded, monitored and ordered to inject." Finally, her eggs were surgically removed.
And after all that, she got an e-mail: "I'm sorry to say that your donation did not result in pregnancy."
As a good libertarian, Howley defends the right to sell eggs. But she came away disillusioned and quickly removed her name and picture from the online list of donors.
Her essay is thoughtful and nuanced, but it left this reader with a perhaps too-simple thought: If you can't conceive a baby, don't bother with high technology. Just adopt one of the thousands of children who need a loving home.
Meanwhile, keep trying to make a baby the old-fashioned way. That process might not work, but it does have its charms.