The Art of Leaving Well

The writer is a former president.

It may be said that leaving well is a good leader’s last gift to an organization. If so, nowhere is this more important than in presidential transitions at higher education institutions.

I stepped down last year. Having served as president of two institutions and a consultant to several others, I have seen departing presidents support their successors by preparing the way for their arrival and passing the baton smoothly. I have also seen those who struggle with letting go and undermine their successors by continuing to meddle in their institutions’ affairs.

My experience in my first presidency was a case study in the latter. My predecessor had served for well over a decade and hoped for a different outcome of the search that selected me. He had someone else in mind, a former student whom he had mentored. Living just blocks away in retirement, he frequently was on campus finding fault with the changes I implemented. He was an alumnus of the institution (I was not) and was in constant contact with many trustees and alumni, spreading rumors and criticizing my priorities and team. It was painful, frustrating, and ultimately led me to seek another opportunity after it was clear the trustees he recruited to the board were unwilling to address his behavior.

I have since heard similar stories from peers who have wondered why it is so hard for some departing presidents to let go. The role uniquely embodies a university’s identity/brand and is the primary point of contact with the institution’s most important relationships. It isn’t surprising that the all-consuming nature of the job can lead some to imagine they are irreplaceable. And more than a few fall headlong into an identity crisis after retiring.

As a former president, I now understand this better than before. My explicit commitment to my successors is to keep a respectful distance, to not meddle or criticize, and to be available anytime to answer questions or assist. Yet I must admit it is disappointing that I am never consulted. Like most, I like to think any successor would want the benefit of my treasure trove of invaluable insight! Then again, I will confess that I failed to consult any of my predecessors and perhaps should have.

When I announced plans to retire from my most recent presidency a bit over a year ago, I reflected on what I could do to ensure a smooth transition and leave well. How could I set up my as-yet-unknown successor for success? Over the next year, I met with faculty, staff, administrators, donors, and others to encourage them to support the next president and explain what a new leader needs from them. I gave a presentation to the Board of Trustees to help them understand the true nature of the president’s job and how better to support the next person in the office. After my successor was named and before I left office, I made myself available for confidential conversations on any topic (though, to my surprise, the individual never took me up on this offer).

From what I have observed at institutions large and small, a good approach for a departing president is to do everything possible to pave the way for a smooth transition; to offer advice and assistance to one’s successor, but only if requested; to disappear from the scene and not accept a president emeritus’s office on campus; and to refrain from criticizing the new president, despite what you may think privately.

I have also found that I am happier not following my former institutions’ day-to-day activities or visiting their websites, for it is too easy to feel slighted or disappointed as changes inevitably come with a new administration.