HKS vs. HBS: Strictly Bid’ness?
by Ben Reno-Weber on October 31, 2007 in Features
It was with some trepidation that I crossed the river this year as a joint-degree with HBS. HBS has a reputation that did not fill me with either confidence or excitement when walking over the bridge for my first day of orientation. What I found was that, like many stereotypes, the mythology of HBS was largely malarkey, with more than a few kernels of truth. Some myths and their realities:
The halls are paved in marble and the students are paved in Armani.
It’s nice over here, no question. The first day of orientation, they had a small group exercise under massive tents on the lawn. There were port-a-potties set up nearby that had, I kid you not, wood paneling, running water and a stall with a door. The classrooms are all like Littauer 130, but with cherry wood paneling and chairs that don’t make you feel like Jabba the Hut.
The whole place has a sort of Hogwarts aura to it (that’s Harry Potter, illiterati), from the fireplaces in the common rooms to the wild turkeys wandering around the lawn. That said, the actual facilities are fairly understated given their obvious expense. If KSG had 100 years of alumni giving to draw on…well, hopefully we would spend it on other things.
HBS is full of pompous windbags who only care about making money.
Let’s cut straight to the point: nobody likes those HBS kids. Everyone’s got a story of running into one at the Kong, who says in a a slurred voice that one day, all lowly KSGers will be working for him. My first few days over here, I kept waiting for it, even looking for it. But it wasn’t here. The people have been unfailingly, almost annoyingly, nice. People showed up the first day in shorts and T-shirts (my insecurity had me in a new freshly ironed polo and slacks). It took me weeks before I met the first set of jerks that made me say, “Aha! This is what people were talking about.” Admittedly, they were big, loud jerks. But mostly people are pretty normal
Which isn’t to say HBS doesn’t have its share of frat-boys or princesses. I thought Hermes was a Greek mythological figure. Apparently it’s some sort of bag that costs more than any car I’ve ever owned, And I haven’t seen so many events organized around drinking games since I was 19.
What about the money?
People at HBS care about money. I feel like the only person without an iPhone or a Blackberry. But mostly the students come from a business background, where money is the subtext of everything. A stunning number of people are at business school because they are searching for greater meaning in life. The opening day, the Dean talked about transformational leadership, not money, as the goal of the program. The social entrepreneurship club is the largest on campus, because people are struggling with how to improve the world without living in poverty themselves. That might sound somewhat familiar to the approximately 80 percent of the KSG students in the midst of McKinsey interviews.
The competition is cutthroat.
As far as I can tell, there isn’t much actual competition. Everything is graded on a curve that’s even gentler than the KSG’s, and you have to bomb about half of your classes before the administration even notices. But because in the first year you take all your classes with the same 90 people – incidentally in the same room, sitting in the same seat, while the professors cycle in and out, sort of like first grade – the pressure to not look like an idiot is very, very high. Because of that pressure, everyone reads before class, which does amazing things for the level of conversation. If only that conversation weren’t about marketing Suave shampoo…
HBS is incredibly uptight.
This one’s true. Maybe uptight isn’t the right word, but there are clear norms set early, based on the understanding that the students’ time is valuable. You are never late. You always come to class. You do not use laptops in class, much less update your Facebook account while someone is talking. The refreshing outcome of this is that we actually listen to one another. The way they treat us like children leads us to treat one another as adults.
The HBS cafeteria is amazing.
Come on over, and I’ll introduce you to our sushi chefs.
Comments
Got something to say?
