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Saylor's stunning business record may help sway some critics. As the founder of MicroStrategy, he made his fortune--$10 billion on paper as of last week--by counseling clients like Victoria's Secret on how to mine their consumer data. Conceived 10 years ago by Saylor and an M.I.T. frat brother, the company has grown to 2,000 employees and $200 million in revenue. Lately, Saylor has been making his money by selling customers personalized weather, traffic and sports reports. A Roman Empire buff, he convenes a "university week" each summer for his employees, during which they take business tutorials, attend mandatory study halls and sit for finals that Saylor insists "people actually flunk." Even in conversation, he tends to lecture. In a two-minute riff, he alights on Henry Ford, Julius Caesar and Star Trek, comparing their missions to his own.
The inspiration for his latest project was closer to home. The son of an Air Force officer, Saylor attended college on a full scholarship and wants to make a comparable opportunity available to all. But his aims are not entirely altruistic. He has plans to pluck the brainiest students to go to work for MicroStrategy. His headline-grabbing announcement could also have a more immediate payoff. Saylor is recruiting investors for a second MicroStrategy stock offering, a period during which SEC rules forbid him to publicize his company.
At the very least, Saylor's ideas may light a fire under the academy, which has been queasy about entering the online arena. Back at the real Harvard, Gregory Nagy, a professor of classical Greek literature, has a virtual version of a course on heroism for his continuing-education students. And he runs late-night e-mail symposiums for his undergrads, while in his pj's. "Plato intended Socratic dialogues to be open-ended," says Nagy. "And the debate shouldn't stop when you leave the classroom." Saylor's solution to that problem is simple: lose the classroom.