‘Board Members Do Not Manage’

I currently chair two public higher education boards and am a vice chair of the board of a private research university. I’ve also sat on two other private higher ed boards. The boards differ in terms of institutional type, revenue challenges, and expectations (access and affordability for the publics; improving ranking—even though we don’t want to admit it—for the privates).

As punishment reward for major support (yes, let’s get real), and because of my interest in higher ed, I was appointed by different governors to the public boards. Even as chair, I’ve had little control in the past about who else gets to serve. But given the financial and public opinion challenges we’re all facing, the pols listen more to me now because of our shared understanding of policy and fiduciary decisions that affect thousands of students and economic competitiveness. The mission of affordable, high-quality public education has never been more important or more endangered.

I’ve been reading The Sandbox since it launched, so I know I must be honest here: I prefer to work in public higher education. The first reason is obvious—the vast majority of people attain higher education in two- and four-year state institutions, so it’s important. But I also prefer the work and relationships on the public boards. In my state, because of the considerations that go into appointing members, the boards tend to be naturally diverse in terms of political affiliation, race, gender, geographical dispersion, and expertise. I like that because perspectives run the gamut and frequently cause me to think harder about—or rethink—my own position on a given issue.

Because we know political bias can change with each election, it’s up to me as chair to impress upon the members that they are expected to debate and vote in the best interests of the institution(s) and the students. Surprise: They all buy into it, including student trustees and (even unionized) faculty reps. And because many trustees are, or were, elected officials used to a caucus hierarchy, they tend to follow board leadership, even if they don’t always agree. Some perform in perfunctory ways (or were even appointed by the opposition party to cause friction), but most view their role as a genuine public service. Only downside: They often don’t contribute financially at the level I would hope.

By contrast, the private (highly selective) university board is self-perpetuating, and we work with a well-staffed committee to create a pipeline, scrutinize potential candidates, and cultivate those we want. Sure, we appoint them, but we also make deals with ourselves to tolerate strong personalities or egos to secure individuals who are especially “hot”—that is, wealthy or well connected.

Trustees at privates tend to be alumni who frequently live in the past glory days, clouding objective and data-driven thinking. This can lead to resistance to change or reluctance to confront what the numbers clearly show. I have seen cases where trustees—in the face of clear evidence—implore the rest of the board to “just give the president a chance” and to trust what they are doing (or not doing, to be more accurate). But to their credit, private university board members understand that donating is a major responsibility. Sometimes there is a correlation between the amount of giving and the amount of involvement they want, which can be a pain for those of us who need to rein them in.

It is drilled into board members that we are fiduciaries and set policy and strategic direction. Board members do not manage. Repeat: Board members do not manage. And yet, some never seem to get that memo. On the private side, trustees with particular interests stick their noses into operations and even try to give staff directives, starting with the president and working their way down the food chain. As financial challenges increase in all but a handful of institutions nationwide, I predict that this will become worse. My job as a board leader is to make clear the performance expectations of the president and stop any member from calling staff with well-meaning “advice.”

Members of public boards also try to interfere, but this can take on ominous tones when it’s politically motivated. Even without ideological and egregious external pressure on speech, services, and curriculum, they can try to influence things like union negotiations and the creation of capital projects and major programs (“Hey, let’s start a new law school at the university in my district!”). At times, even a strong board chair has limited ability to stop it.

Now, when so many public and private institutions and systems are threatened financially, trustees along the spectrum must step up. They must push a strategic direction, understand metrics, and hold presidents accountable, while also supporting them when there is expected pushback from the various constituencies. Those that sit back are not doing their institutions any favors.

It is my responsibility to be educated on the state of higher ed nationally, not just at the institutions I’m connected to. I read all the higher ed publications and go to conferences and webinars as much as I can. I have a real advantage in having a foot in both the public and private higher ed sectors, because I take ideas from one and bring them to the other. This cross-fertilization is even more relevant now, as both sectors are becoming more aligned on strategies around integrating liberal arts with practical preparation and guidance into careers to meet today’s internal and external higher ed challenges.