A faculty study of athletics at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill has called for an outside review of the relationship between athletics and academics at the university, The News and Observer reported. The panel concluded that recent scandals were not isolated incidents, but reflected broader problems, such as poor oversight, improper roles for athletes' academic counselors and a culture in which faculty members feel shut out of decisions about athletics programs.
Portland State University expelled and banned from campus a graduate student who a classmate said had made threatening remarks involving guns and a professor, The Oregonianreported. The article describes how the university acted quickly after receiving the report and about how Henry Liu says the university unfairly viewed him as, in his words, a "crazy Asian shooter." Liu denies making the remarks attributed to him, and a psychiatrist concluded that he poses no danger to himself or others.
A professor at the University of Texas at Austin is facing questions about his credibility after a nonprofit watchdog group said that he did not reveal ties to a drilling company as he led a study on hydraulic fracturing that found that the process produced no groundwater contamination. “UT promoted the study as an independent inquiry into fracking’s environmental risks, but PAI found that the study was actually led by a gas industry insider and UT faculty member, Charles ‘Chip’ Groat, who sits on the board of fracker Plains Exploration & Production (PXP),” according to the introduction to the report by the Public Accountability Initiative, the watchdog group.
After the watchdog group published its report, the Austin American-Statesman reviewed SEC filings and found that Groat had been paid $413,900 in cash and stock by the company last year and holds $1.6 million of the company’s stock. Groat called the report a mix of truth, half-truths and unfounded conclusions, according to StateImpact, an NPR project with local public radio stations that examines public policy issues. The university said Tuesday that it would ask outside experts to review the fracking study, according to StateImpact.
The Public Accountability Initiative recently raised questions about a study on fracking at the State University of New York at Buffalo, as more and more universities become battlegrounds for debates over the issue.
Many Americans look upon an election year with trepidation – they worry about being deluged with phone calls before dinner; they grumble about their favorite TV shows being taken over by attack ads. For college and university faculty members, there’s another reason to worry: we’ve been made an easy target for politicians.
On the campaign trail, Rick Santorum made waves with his statements criticizing President Obama on the importance of college. This brought to light an earlier statement that he made at Ave Maria University. Santorum argued that Satan’s campaign to subvert American institutions started with the professoriate, because Satan "understood [the] pride of smart people…. They were in fact smarter than everybody else and could come up with something new and different -- pursue new truths, deny the existence of truth, play with it because they’re smart."
Repeatedly, the Republican nominee Mitt Romney has assailed President Obama for being a product of "the faculty lounge" – out of touch with the problems of everyday people and possessing dangerous ideas that will make America less secure (Examples here, here, here and here). There's already been a great deal of discussion about this matter – whether it’s the curiosity of someone with multiple degrees from his alma mater attacking it, or the presence of Harvard University faculty on his policy team. Most recently, Stephen Carter from Yale has weighed in on the matter, politely asking Romney to stop.
For the record, I’ve never seen the inside of a faculty lounge; it could be that I’m not subversive enough for the brandy and Karl Marx-read-only-in-the-original crowd. My query on this matter is a tactical one: Why do these attacks persist, and what can we do about them? Carter invokes Richard Hofstadter’s argument that intellect is an inherent challenge to authority. While this is of course true, part of the problem lies within ourselves. At a time in which the very value of a college education is under attack, too many of us: faculty, administrators, and our professional associations, are silent about what we do in these ivy-covered buildings. Asking politicians to stop is not going to work. It is time to reframe the debate.
We need to take the offensive in justifying academic research. If scholarship is the mechanism by which we are out of touch, then it is our responsibility as scholars to better underscore (and indeed sell) what we’re learning about the world and why that matters. The good news is that this is something that many of us already do. We train graduate students to justify how their work contributes to broader debates in their theses and dissertations. In our own grant competitions, we are required to explain why our work is important – and indeed, why our proposal merits funding over hundreds of others. We report back to these same funders about what we’ve learned and how their investment in us has been used. What we need are mechanisms that allow us to better articulate and disseminate to nonacademic audiences what academic research is and why it makes a difference.
Fixing this problem is not merely a matter of marketing. It also requires changing incentives. Decisions about tenure and promotion are based on output in scholarly outlets, not the popular press. Individual faculty members will resist devoting energies to outreach as long as there are no professional rewards attached to it. Generating more outreach requires that universities value outreach about scholarly research just as much as they value the research itself . Universities send out press releases to announce athletic recruits and the retention of million-dollar coaches; surely the ideas in a book published by a philosopher merits attention as well. As the political science community has seen this past year, failing to justify what we do as scholars and why can have detrimental consequences.
At the same time, universities need to better promote their own efforts in teaching and mentoring. Rick Santorum would not have argued that faculty are the first page of the Satanic playbook had he understood that the faculty lounge is increasingly staffed by adjunct faculty members who have few incentives to hold office hours, write letters of recommendation, and counsel students — and yet who do so all the time because of their commitment to their students. They do so much to keep the modern university running, and yet receive so little in return. Rewarding adjunct faculty for excellence, and publicizing that excellence, is a great way to reassert the importance of student learning.
Colleges and universities need to tell their stories to multiple audiences. This doesn’t merely mean prospective students or Congressional lobbyists; it means opening our doors and sharing what we do with the public. Universities become less easy targets when we promote how first-generation students become Congressional staffers and how the products of single-parent households can win nationally competitive scholarships. We do not merely pour facts into students’ heads. On many days, we change students’ lives.
American higher education is one of the greatest products ever devised for human betterment. We do not need slick slogans or fancy jingles to justify it. All that we need is to take the energy that we get from an interesting article, a fascinating finding, or a great class discussion, and share it. More attention to scholarly outreach and promoting teaching and mentoring can be our own attack ad as we work to elevate higher education in these challenging times.
Martin Edwards is associate professor at the John C. Whitehead School of Diplomacy at Seton Hall University.
Major college groups and organized labor argue over status of graduate employees, and whether collective bargaining is appropriate for them. New question gets attention: Can grad student interests be represented only by their own unions?
Now that a little time has passed since Louis Freeh issued his report on the Penn State debacle, I’ve been reflecting on both the Penn State and U.Va. affairs. Reading the coverage, it seemed as though journalists and bloggers were observing a seesaw whose riders could not find equilibrium. When commentators compared the two state universities, they wrote about the relationship between presidents and trustees. The problem at Penn State, that argument ran, was that the trustees didn’t check up on the administrators. Instead, they participated in a culture that glorified football and the men associated with it. The problem at U.Va., that argument continued, was that the trustees stuck their noses in academic affairs, a place "where angels [should] fear to tread" – unless they truly understand online learning, MOOCs, hybrid courses, and perhaps even the contrast between close readings and the digital humanities.
Finding equilibrium is indeed a problem, but it is not the problem. The problem is corporatization. Not only trustees, but also politicians and administrators have bought into the current ideological assumption that higher education may once again thrive if it only becomes more business-like. The call to rationalization is not new. Nor are the characteristics of the people who are making that call. At many universities, the boards of trustees have much the same occupational distribution today as they had 30 or even 100 years ago, when in The Higher Learning in America, Thorsten Veblen wrote of how "captains of industry" were imposing their view of the world on universities.
Today’s situation seems so different, because after World War II, there was a “brief shining moment” when trustees, administrators and politicians deferred to faculty. Dedicated to leading the world in research and discovery, intent on expanding national productivity by educating the youth of the middle class and even the lower-middle class, government and corporate officials recognized professors as people who knew their stuff – as professionals who could decide which research was worthy of funding and publication and which topics were important to teach and learn. They also gave at least lip service to notions of shared governance – although it is also clear that those with a business orientation found the more idealistic liberalism of professors to be problematic. (Recall: Studies have found that people who become professors are more liberal than are the academically talented folk who enter other industries.)
Sometime in the 1980s, priorities began to shift and universities discovered that the supply of their previously preferred students – white males between the ages of 18 and 22-- was waning and the number of white women and people of color among high school graduates was growing larger. George Keller famously warned about this "revolution" in his classic 1983 book Academic Strategy. To fill the seats of classrooms and increase funds, at least some colleges and universities would have to expand their clientele. One way to do so is to accept nontraditional students, who today make up the bulk of the college-attending population. Another is to swipe undergraduates from other states and to charge them more. At Penn State’s University Park campus, in-state students pay $648 per credit and out-of-staters $1,161.
But supply, demand, and revenue streams were not the only issues. After all, to cite a waning supply of preferred students as a problem, one must be prepared to think about universities in terms of supply, demand, revenue streams, and marketing. After World War II, professionalism had been de rigueur, but corporate concerns personified as branding and marketing were to trump professionalism. Universities were to adopt facets of the institutional logic of the corporate world, as they competed for students, research money, reputation, philanthropic donations, and eventually even championship bowl wins. Instead of viewing higher education as an activity that contributed to the public good, corporate leaders, politicians, and even university administrators began to speak of it as an industry.
After drowning myself in news stories and commentary, I have come to think that Penn State and U.Va. share a common corporate concern with industrial competition, including branding. Both boards seem obsessed with risk, not in the old sense of the dangers faced when attempting to climb Mount Everest or dive off a platform 10 meters above a swimming pool. In those old examples, one faces risk by being brave. Today, like other corporatized organizations, universities face risk as what Michael Power has identified as "organized uncertainty" in his book of the same name. Sometimes you just can’t anticipate the results of even the best academic plans and organizational strategies. "The best-laid plans of mice and men" … and all that. As true of auto manufacturers, law firms, and insurance companies, the new corporatized universities care about risk as something to be managed, something that they can hope to control in order to ward off disaster. Like corporations they have departments dedicated to risk management.
The Freeh Report notes that at Penn State the Office of Risk Management "identifies and manages potential risks throughout the university related to financial, physical and reputational loss." The report states that "most of [the office’s] work centers on assessing contract-based risks," but even the inclusion of "reputation loss" is noteworthy. Supposedly, a university’s reputation contributes to the number of applications it receives and to its yield rate. Since the scandal began, applications to Penn State have risen by 1 percent and the number of donors has increased. Maybe these statistics mean that what matters is getting your name in print, as public relations specialists once assumed.
The U.Va. board's firing and rehiring of Teresa Sullivan also involved risk management. But the U.Va. Board of Visitors and the faculty cared about different risks. Apparently, members of the Board of Visitors feared that other prestigious universities would pass them in the race to become identified with online higher education; they are said to have worried that U.Va. wasn’t changing fast enough. Among the faculty the concern almost harkens back to the 1960s and 1970s: If the members of the board have so little regard for a president whom we respect and so little regard for our own professionalism, the occupationally mobile professoriate at U.Va. seemed to ask, is this a place where I want to be? Sullivan put it more directly: she worried that the actions of the Board of Visitors would encourage talented faculty to find jobs elsewhere. Not all professors can easily jump from one job to another. James Duderstadt was probably thinking of distinguished professors, like many of those found at U.Va, when in A University for the Twenty-First Century, he wrote that holding on to one's faculty can be like trying to keep frogs from leaping out of a wheelbarrow.
The Freeh Report on Penn State mentions risk and avoiding potential disaster by talking about how administrators engaged in what can be called a cover-up to protect "their brand." The Nittany Lions is more than a football team and its mascot. It is a university. Similarly, U.Va. has its brand. I don’t mean the plume-hatted cavalier whom I’ve seen swagger around at basketball games. I mean the glorification of academic integrity supposedly inherited from Thomas Jefferson, the founder of U.Va. If Joe Paterno and the Nittany Lions had personified Penn State, Thomas Jefferson’s faith in the search for knowledge as truth has symbolized U.Va. Both representations are a brand.
Penn State, U.Va. and their governing boards messed up as they entered the fray of corporate competition. Neither university could find its balance on what commentators have described as a seesaw or balancing act. Each was so intent on glorifying its brand that key people forgot that education is not a competitive game. Penn State hyped football; U.Va., its status as the first public university and a leader in higher education.
Governing a university is not a matter of balancing the concerns of the board against those of the top administrators. A university is not a seesaw. Routinely, both presidents and trustees invoke "stakeholders" to show their understanding that many groups of people feel they have an interest in a university's future. Many strategic plans mention stakeholders; Helen Dragas, chair of the U.Va. board when it moved against Sullivan, referred to the participation of stakeholders in her June 21 statement about the challenges facing the University of Virginia. But, too often, when they make key decisions, trustees and presidents ignore the pretty sentiments etched in their plans and official statements. They return to the seesaw model.
A good solution to failed risk management at each of these schools is a return to shared governance. Many professors at Penn State had decried the power of the department of athletics. Many professors at U.Va. know much more about digitization than members of the Board of Visitors. Universities boards and administrators might want to recognize that professors are a resource, not just a nuisance to be audited and held accountability for their productivity and economic contribution to their employers.
Gaye Tuchman is professor emerita of sociology at the University of Connecticut. Her books include Making News: A Study in the Construction of Reality and Wannabe U: Inside the Corporate University.
Faculty union says university proposal would effectively let administrators get rid of tenured professors any time a budgetary shift takes place. Administration says it respects tenure, but needs "flexibility."