Monday, December 05, 2011


Leadership Crises Ahead

As an industry, we’ll be in serious trouble as long as it’s taboo to speak the truth. The responses to these two pieces suggest that we aren’t yet ready to come to grips with reality.

Jeff Selingo’s piece on the graying of college presidents met with the usual and ritualistic accusations of ageism, which both missed the point and attempted to foreclose further discussion. Which is a shame, because it’s a crucial topic.

Selingo notes, correctly, that the average age of college presidents and senior administrators has been moving dramatically upward for some time; at this point, it’s noteworthy to find a college president under fifty. (Notably, many of today’s senior leaders started younger than that.) The generation currently in leadership roles came to those roles with a tailwind, and has presided over a serious explosion of costs. At this point, senior leaders change institutions with some frequency in a high-stakes version of musical chairs. When the same faces keep trading seats, with interim appointments filling in the gaps, it’s difficult for anyone to come to grips with major structural issues. So they don’t, and the game of annual tuition increases and budget cuts continues unabated.

It’s hard to break the generational lock, though. For one thing, the pipeline is thin. Decades of replacing full-time faculty positions with adjuncts has thinned out the farm system, so there isn’t a ready cohort in the wings. And nobody gets in trouble for hiring experience.

That can matter for a whole host of reasons, but the most obvious ones are demography and unspoken assumptions.

Demography is relatively clear: each generation of academics is more racially diverse than the one before it. The more interesting reason, though, is what a generation has in common. The Gen X’ers started their careers in scarcity, and have lived in scarcity pretty much without interruption. They didn’t catch the demographic tailwind of their elders. That means that, in the aggregate, they’re more likely to be attuned to the climate of possibility now. There’s no temptation to try to recreate a golden age that occurred when you were in preschool. This generation is likely to be more attuned to the new normal.

This other article from IHE suggests, hamhandedly, what some of the next challenges may look like. I have my issues with the piece, especially around its proposed regional typologies, but at least it suggests that the next cohort of college leaders will need a willingness to tackle some key issues that the current cohort has postponed. The catch is that dealing with fundamental issues will necessarily generate conflict, and some Boards won’t touch anybody who has a history of conflict. The “conflict aversion” playbook is dogeared, but it’s dogeared for a reason. From the outside, it can be difficult to distinguish the brave teller of truth from the arrogant jerk from the idiot who just can’t handle conflict. (To be fair, there is some overlap...)

Too often, academe slides from “shared governance,” which is a good thing when properly understood, to a premium on “consensus,” which is far more problematic. In a democratic process -- even if modified -- it’s possible that some people will lose on an important issue. But in a consensus system, there’s not supposed to be such a thing as losing. When difficult choices require that somebody actually loses, the resulting conflict is sometimes read as a failure to generate consensus. It isn’t, really; it’s a cost of coming to grips with reality.

A fair reading of the last few decades would suggest that the trend towards adjunct instruction has been driven by the desire for consensus. By offloading economic shortfalls onto people who aren’t actually at the table, it’s easier to maintain peace among the people at the table. (The same argument could be made about tuition increases and financial aid; it’s easy to raise prices when the students don’t pay the increase directly.) When consensus is taken as a good in itself, “path of least resistance” solutions that dump the costs onto people who aren’t there at the time become particularly attractive. Let that dynamic roll, uninterrupted, for several decades, and you end up where we are.

If the Occupy movement has taught us anything, it’s that we’re reaching the end of the “dump the costs on the next generation” strategy. If higher education is going to remain viable as a mass phenomenon -- I’m not talking about the elites here, since they’ll survive anyway -- it will have to start making choices. That means that we can expect more open conflict, less consensus, and a need for leaders who are willing to make choices. I just hope that the unthinking, ritualistic excoriation that Selingo’s piece generated isn’t indicative of how far we are from being able to start having honest conversations. If we don’t come to grips with the new normal, it will assuredly come to grips with us.

Why is the assumption that to be a college president, you must come from the faculty side of the house? In my experience, my best presidents may have some faculty experience but have more staff experience. My current president (a woman) is certainly my role model and excels at her job. I want to be a college president at some point but I'm not faculty. I don't really want to be one.
If the primary functions of higher education are teaching and learning, then one might want a president who has experience with both - ergo, faculty. Our current president was staff, not faculty. She doesn't excel at our her job. Part of that has to do with her lack of teaching experience - she has no clue about what actually goes on in the classroom, and as a result she has made some major missteps. I will say that she has since recognized that her lack of classroom experience is an issue, and has attempted to make up for it by hiring provosts with academic experience. However, we have run into the same problem vis-a-vis our various provost searches that DD diagnoses in this column: a profound lack of qualified candidates. As a consequence of that, we have had four provosts in our president's ten-year tenure - which has meant a series of "new" initiatives every 2.5 years or so, with a consequent loss of time and resources.
Again, however, how do we define qualified? I would happily move into a VP or higher role except that the qualifications listed often want full time faculty (I'm an adjunct) or other things that you only get if you already have the job. Where does a non-faculty person start to break into that arena?
I think one thing that gets overlooked in these analyses is the two body problem. Many faculty are part of dual career partnerships - both inside and outside academia. That tends to limit geographic mobility or put burdens on the non-administrative half of the partnership. DD - you often mention the rubber chicken dinners; attending those meant TW had to take responsibility for the kids. I also believe she left the work force for a while because of the demands of your career - right? I think some may feel that's a lot to ask of a partner. I'd like to enter into administration, but my husband is also a faculty member and we have small kids. So, I'll probably look locally so he can keep his career; luckily, there's a lot of options around where we live, but without a faculty fall back, that creates a lot of risk for our family - if things don't work out in a new position, our two body problem will come back. I'll also probably wait until the kids are older; this phenomena is similar to the one in politics where female candidates tend to enter the ring much later than male candidates. Unfortunately, administration doesn't lend itself to work/family balance, and I think that helps to dry up the pipeline somewhat.
My critique of the Chronicle article is simply stated: it assumes that the world began in 1986 because that is the oldest survey they have. What crap. Is it physically impossible to find out the age of college presidents in 1976 or 1966 or 1956? (No. Every college has a record of their presidents and some bio info about them, but you might have to do some actual research rather than just send out a survey.)

But you are correct. The dearth of "baby boomer" faculty (those currently between 47 and 65 years old) did stress the usual pipeline. There were so many experienced senior faculty that little professional development took place, and people I know were also more interested in being professors than administrators.

But why so much negativism? There wasn't a pipeline when colleges were created in this country, or when they grew explosively circa 1950, or when community colleges sprouted everywhere in the 1960s. Sharp people simply did what needed to be done. They will continue to do what needs to be done. The trick is identifying and mentoring them.

From my perspective, there is little difference between a president who has never been a professor and one who has not been in a classroom for 10 or, more likely, 20 years. A few things have changed. [understatement] What seems to matter is broad exposure to all parts of the college before and after taking over. Even more, it helps if they realize people in the classroom know what is going on there, just as we need to realize that a lot is going on behind the curtain.

I have seen former faculty who do a bad job of making our work easier, forgetting everything about the classroom when they became admins, and pure managers who did a great job. Some aspects of it remind me of students who complained about lecturers, only to lecture once they became professors.
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