A note to the 73 incoming MBAs moving into newly renovated Gallatin Hall: You are some lucky ducks. I tagged along on a tour of Gallatin led by principal architect Steve Erwin and project architect Patricia DeLauri, both of Shepley Bulfinch Richardson & Abbott, a Boston-based firm with a long history with Harvard University and the B-School. With them was Jarred Dore from Richard White Sons, the general contractor. What I saw made one thing clear: Dormitory living ain’t what it used to be. We’re talking a private bathroom in every room, a double bed, wireless Internet access, and some very cool, recessed light fixtures. The common-area kitchenettes are light, airy, and include eating areas and dishwashers, so no more nasty notes about who left what in the sink.

In mid-August, 73 intrepid HBS staffers spent the night in Gallatin to make sure everything was in good working order before the building’s full-time residents arrive in September. They ate BBQ, played Texas hold ’em, and generally hung out in a lounge area that includes a pool table, a Wii (that must-have video game system), and (of course) many comfy chairs and couches. The Gallatin guinea pigs’ consensus? Life is good here.

Gallatin was designed by McKim, Mead & White and built in 1927 as a collection of what were essentially linked townhouses on a U-shaped plan. The building was no doubt charming but a bit of a warren: Some students had to leave their doors unlocked because emergency exits could be reached only by going through someone else’s room.

The project was a gut rehab, with demolition beginning just after graduation in June 2007. “We had Bobcats going up and down the halls, sending material down demolition chutes out the windows,” architect Steve Erwin recalls. “It was pretty fun.” Ninety-eight percent of the discarded materials were recycled in some way. Three thousands bricks were reused in the renovation.

Gallatin is the second residence hall and fifth building on the HBS campus to achieve LEED certification for construction that meets sustainability standards set by the U.S. Green Building Council. For example, dual-flush toilets and low-flow shower heads and sink aerators reduce water use by 30 percent when compared to a standard building. Sensors adjust indoor lighting by taking available natural light into account (this is called “daylight harvesting”). There are also “smart” (double-glazed, insulated) windows wired into the heating and cooling system that detect when windows are open and adjust the room’s temperature accordingly. “It’s not in-your-face green,” says Terri Evans, communications manager for Shepley Bulfinch. “It just works.”

Ironically, it was Pickens who helped bankroll the Swift Boat ads that in 2004 sank wind-surfing presidential candidate John Kerry, who was far more amenable to alternative-energy initiatives than George W. Bush (MBA ’75). Boone’s 11th hour-conversion highlights a peculiar business penchant: a tendency to shoot itself in the foot and harm its own best interests by hurting the larger economy. (At this writing, Exhibit A is, once again, Wall Street). For decades, many private-sector industries (e.g., oil and gas, automobiles) and their lobbyists and water carriers in Washington ensured that fledgling alternative-energy industries, perhaps America’s best hope for a manufacturing future, would not get the tax, public policy, and subsidy support that King Carbon enjoyed year after year. Sure, business can drive positive change, but it can also stunt it and slow it.

One of the first things that supposedly business-friendly President Ronald Reagan did upon taking office in 1981 was to remove the solar panels that his supposedly business-hostile predecessor Jimmy Carter had installed on the White House roof. Imagine if alternative energy had instead been an ongoing national priority for the last thirty years. Wouldn’t the American economy, the country itself, and indeed the rest of the world be much better off today? Entrenched, short-term interests — business’s inherent conservatism — can stifle its innovative, ground-breaking impact and its inherent progressivism. Is that just a case of markets at work, or a case where markets just don’t work?

Program classes included “Transforming an Educational Institution—Getting Participant-Centered Learning to Work” (with Professor Paul Marshall), “Learning and Developing as Leaders and Teachers” (with Professor Tom DeLong, and the session that I sat in on, “Finding Great Cases.” The case in question was Sahlman’s “Dr. John’s Products, Ltd.”, the story of serial entrepreneur John Osher and his quest to invent, manufacture, and distribute an inexpensive electric toothbrush. Along the way, of course, he encounters all sorts of interesting dilemmas relating to capital, distribution, branding, and partnering.

After a gentle nudge on Sahlman’s part (“This would be the audience participation part of the class”), the professor-students were off and running, learning about the case method by experiencing it firsthand. Along the way, Sahlman highlighted some of the qualities that make Dr. John’s what he modestly termed “a reasonable case,” noting that it’s fairly straightforward while including the classic framework of people, opportunity, context, and deal. Osher, he adds, isn’t taking any undue risks—he’s simply staging a series of sensible experiments (primarily with other people’s money) in order to gain the information needed to make further decisions.

After class, I chatted with Natalya Loce from the faculty of Riga Technical University, which has seen a surge in older students seeking to update their business skills and knowledge in the (relatively) new reality of post-Soviet Latvia. “I like this practice-based method,” she said. “These different approaches to teaching, some are not so familiar to me. I am fully impressed.”

Despite Natalya’s endorsement, I wondered if she, and the other professors, would have a tough row to hoe when they returned to their respective institutions. Would they face skeptical administrators and/or students who view entrepreneurship as something that you learn by doing, rather than reading about and discussing the experiences of others? Are there any entrepreneurs (or would-be entrepreneurs) who’d care to weigh in on this matter? Do some aspects of running a business defy a classroom education, even if the school in question is HBS?

It got me to thinking: Has government been forced to become more customer friendly because of the high standards set by private-sector customer service? After all, it wasn’t so long ago that letters or phone calls to virtually any state agency might simply go unanswered. (And truth be told, the private sector often wasn’t much better.)

After my fender-bender, months went by in which missed deadlines, misdelivered letters, and my inattention were all forgiven by the state as it set, and reset, hearings for me. They could have said, “No day in court for you, pal. You had your chances.” But they didn’t. Why?

Somewhere along the line, first in business, then in government, attitudes changed and the customer/taxpayer came to the forefront. HBS certainly played a role with its studies of customer-relationships management. The “service-profit chain” that Professors Heskett, Sasser, and Schlesinger made prominent in the 1980s contributed new thinking, as did Professor Robert Kaplan’s “balanced scorecard.”

And alumni like former IRS commissioner Charles Rossotti (MBA ’64) brought customer service best practices from the private sector to government (http://www.alumni.hbs.edu/bulletin/2000/april/qanda.html).

Of course, a new generation of HBS faculty such as Frances Frei, Youngme Moon, and others are still finding plenty of ways that companies frustrate their customers. These days, health care, airlines, and telecommunications, to name a few, are sectors that can drive consumers up the wall. Are you, valued customer, treated well, or at least better than you used to be, in both the public and private sectors? Or does lip service too often stand in for customer service?