Following on Anthony Waterman's comment, I tried to get in touch with Daniel Ellsberg. He was kind enough to let me make public the following e-mail message. It does not help much in clarifying if there was any peculiar Harward's practice in the acceptance of dissertations, but provides interesting autobiographical remarks and indicates who was Ellsberg's supervisor. Carlo Zappia ---------------------------- Dear Carlo: John Chipman was my thesis supervisor for my undergraduate honors thesis, Theories of Rational Choice Under Uncertainty: The Contributions of von Neumann and Morgenstern. John had done some informal experiments on choice himself, which I acknowledged in the thesis and probably (though I don't recall) in the article which followed from it, on utility theory, in the Economic Journal. (Another article, Theory of the Reluctant Duellist, in the AER was also drawn from the thesis). For my Ph.D. thesis, written while I was at RAND in 1962, my nominal supervisor was my friend (and RAND consultant) Tom Schelling. However, I don't recall any discussion of my work with him while I was writing it (in California) or even after it was written, although he read it. It was outside his line of theoretical interest. His influence on my thinking about bargaining theory, especially from his first article on the subject, was very great; our minds worked in parallel paths (though at that time he had almost no knowledge of the work of von Neumann and Morgenstern, i.e., "classical" game theory) but his extremely original ideas stimulated and influenced my thinking very much. But that was in the area of my lectures on The Art of Coercion for the Lowell Institute in 1959 (still unpublished, though several of the lectures have been reprinted) and later work, still unpublished. It didn't bear on my thesis. Come to think of it, Schelling did have an influence on my publishing of my work on ambiguity. He had read an early version of this paper and wanted to include a piece on this subject in an issue of the Quarterly Journal of Economics for which he would be the guest editor. I agreed, but, as usual, I didn't get around to it, till the deadline was close. (I should say, as usual for my later life. My practice of procrastination about publishing started just about then--not earlier, as my earlier articles indicated. In fact, I could say it startedwith a decision to put off (indefinitely, it turned out) editing and publishing my lectures on the Art of Coercion. I returned an advance I had received for that from McGraw-Hill, in early 1961. I thought what I was doing on nuclear war planning at RAND took priority over editing these). Tom, the great bargaining theorist, then told me: "Don't worry about it, Dan. I'll just publish what I have, the piece you gave me." That sent me into a panic--that draft wasn't adequate!--and I went into a round-the-clock crash effort to turn out the published piece, Risk, Ambiguity and the Savage Axioms, in time for his issue. Then, in the beginning of 1962, I devoted myself full-time--with the generous encouragement and support of RAND--to absorbing the literature in my thesis bibliography and writing the thesis, again around-the-clock, in just four months. (I would have thought it was somewhat longer, but I know I started at the first of the year, and I see--looking just now at a bound Harvard Library copy which has somehow found its way onto my shelves--that it's dated April, 1962.) The deadline here was my 10th Class Reunion at Harvard in June. Following Schelling's theories of commitment (really, not just rhetorically), I announced in my class notes distributed to the class in the spring that I would receive my degree in June, in time for the Reunion. I explained in the notes that, by announcing this, I was assuring myself of unspeakable humiliation if I failed to carry it out. That wasn't just a joke. And by truly vast effort (the reading alone took about four months, as one can tell from the bibliography) in the final stages, working all night every night at RAND, I did send it in: to Harvard, and to Schelling (though I don't recall any comment from him on it, except that it looked good). Just before commencement, as I recall, in late May or June, I defended the thesis before a panel of, I think, four readers (not including Schelling). They accepted it, and I did march in Commencement with my Ph.D. robes, with the congratulations of my classmates. One odd thing I've never been clear on: I've always regarded myself as receiving the Ph.D. in June, 1962, and I certainly did rent (or buy?) a Ph.D. robe for the ceremony, and had certainly passed all the requirements; but at some point years after that I got some indication that Harvard carried me in their records as receiving it in early 1963 (though I was back at RAND after June and was not aware of any delay). It doesn't matter, of course, but I've occasionally worried that someone would contradict me, on the basis of a record search, when I give 1962 as the date of my degree, as I always do. (I probably have my sheepskin somewhere; I could look that up and see what it says). Does that answer the question? In sum, I did have a supervisor, formally, Schelling; but I see that I didn't mention this in the thesis or give him any special acknowledgement, since in this particular area he didn't influence my thinking. Nor did Chipman, at all, in this area: I hadn't been in touch with him for a number of years, before I started this line of work (in 1957-1958, while I was in the Society of Fellows). In my acknowledgments, I see I listed Schelling as one of ten named colleagues with whom I had had useful discussions: alongside longer acknowledgments to others. One other thought, since I mentioned my unfortunate "publication-block" earlier: my failure to publish this thesis later in 1962 or 1963 was regrettable. As I mentioned in the preface, only about 10% of it was represented in my earlier article. I've learned since that most specialists who had heard I had written a thesis made no effort to see it, because they assumed that it had been written before my article and that the article was a summary of it. Too bad; I have the impression that it would have been quite useful in the '60's and even 70's (and really, unless I'm mistaken, I think there's still analysis and propositions in it that would be helpful even at this late date, that makes it worth reading. I regret that there hasn't been any review of it, to my knowledge, in the professional literature). As I hold the two books, the Garland and the original thesis, in my hands now, I recall my reason for not publishing it earlier. The Harvard manuscript is 379 pages (of typescript, which makes it thicker). I thought that was too long to publish, and I intended to cut it down. But when Garland published it, without any editing or bringing up to date (Isaac Levi contributed a commentary, and Mark Machina generously provided an updated bibliography), my text runs only 284 thin printed pages, a nice size. Rats! Oh well... Daniel Ellsberg