Get Off My Campus!

THEY'RE EASY TO spot with their swagger, smile and mound of perfect hair. There's usually a huddle of students circling them as they walk. Their classes are overfull and their every word is absorbed and held sacred, as if passed down from Mount Sinai.

They are celebrity professors, the hottest items to hit college campuses since computers. Yes, they're marquee names, big within their field and of course widely published, with at least a few Bible-thick books under their belt. But what gives them their pseudo-celebrity, and hence value to colleges, is not their contribution to post-colonial studies. They are known for something much more valuable: their connections, particularly those to donors and denizens of the entertainment elite-the Richard Geres and Bonos of this world.

Students arriving on campus this fall for the first time will no doubt be wondering about which professors to take: the easy grader or the longwinded blowhard; the attractive 30-something or the Donald-Sutherland, Zen-like philosopher. Also on their minds will be a bigger question: Who're the big names on campus? Call it Name-dropping 101 for college freshmen. No schedule is complete without at least one professor whose name in conversation strikes a "wow" or hushed awe among listeners.

"You got into that class?"

"Shit."

"What's he like?"

"I saw him on Koppel last night."

Everyone loves to brush against academic celebrity. College administrations benefit from the cache, clout and name recognition these professors bring, to say nothing of the attention their research garners. Students get to rub elbows with minor stars and brag to their parents. Alumni get something to talk about at their famously dull get-togethers, as well as a boost to their fundraising coffers. What could be peachier?

Trouble is, these celebs don't come cheaply. Many command six-figure salaries just for teaching one class per semester. They also require a phalanx of researchers and TAs under their whip, not to mention free housing and a corner office with ample wall space for their gazillion photos taken with famous big shots.

Many of them are not teachers by training, and many come to the job in the twilight of their careers. Universities are where government officials and politicians out of office go to rust. Many colleges are nothing more than nursing homes cloaked in ivy. And they come to class fashionably late and unprepared, thinking more about their upcoming Charlie Rose appearance than the poor kid in the front row who's flunking. Students are mere speedbumps along their paths to further stardom and fatter Rolodexes.

Celebrity profs also tend to bring lots of baggage. More often than not they're unruly, academic divas-Bobby Knights of the classroom who invite controversy with their antics and extracurricular activities. For example, Cornel West, while moonlighting as a professor at Harvard, famously cut a rap CD. Some professors attract unwanted attention not for what they do or say, but for how they look. George Stephanopoulos allegedly had a stalker while teaching at Columbia.

Still other celebrity professors arrive on campus untested, looking to the classroom as a refuge. Last spring in Archbishop Desmond Tutu's course at the University of Northern Florida, cameras were prohibited. Al Gore, who showed up to Columbia the first day wearing a tweed sweater and a tan, famously tried to make his class off-the-record, prompting a sharp rebuke from the Wall Street Journal editorial page. (The rule was later overturned.)

For incoming freshmen, taking a class with a Jeffrey Sachs or an Alan Dershowitz can be enticing. They will email the professors, show up early the first day to snag a front-row seat and pore over the prof's most recent dozen articles. Their eyes will gleam, as if to say, "You're smart, funny, and because of your fame, I find you strangely handsome." At the end of the semester they will go out of their way for a recommendation as personal as a Christmas card from the White House.

Avoid this path. Don't be that student. Stay clear of brand-name professors. Never let a swollen ego or pseudo-famous egghead get in the way of your learning. Despite their crumply Dockers and lack of connections, the no-name profs have all the time in the world for office hours, grading papers, chats over coffee and planning good lessons. The big names are there to schmooze with their celebrity friends and famous alumni, as well as to publish every last thought swooshing around in their oversized craniums.

Unfortunately, the celebrity professor has become a fact of life at most "elite" schools, a creature in need of constant worship and coddling. It's time to stop feeding their egos. Stop inflating their salaries. Stop gushing at their overrated research. Nothing would send a clearer message than for one of these campus gods to arrive on the first day of school to a half-empty classroom. o