Ch-ch-ch-changes at the Top

The writer is a current president:

In my first presidency, I had not planned on making any changes and felt none were really needed, but by the end of year two I had almost a completely new team assembled.

In my second, there were many political issues associated with the changes I wanted to make. To navigate, I assigned individuals to new roles, including some “Special Assistants.” Though they were not all that happy about this, they turned out to be successful in the new roles—with new tasks and goals and where they were better able to use their talents. Even if they were never happy and had to, eventually, move on. The ego is a fragile entity.

Through both experiences, I have come to learn that you really don’t have your own team until you truly are able to choose and assemble the leaders yourself.  When there have been one or two from the “old guard,” it has caused challenges one way or another.

The writer is a current president

Of course, you start off with an open mind, hoping all members of the cabinet you inherited are not only effective at their jobs but also capable of transitioning their alliances to you. That is folly. 

It’s more likely that one or two will leave on their own, one or two were dead weight your predecessor didn’t have the nerve to get rid of, and one or two pretend to accept your vision but can’t get over their grief about the departure of your predecessor (often the person who hired them). 

To make progress, I had to make the team my own. That required frank conversations with each cabinet member about my vision and their willingness to “get on the bus.”  

Within a year, it was obvious who would be my loyal compatriots and who needed to, “with mixed emotions, return to their first love, the classroom.”

The writer is a current president

When I became president I knew I needed to remove two VPs. Six months in I had done so. They were incompetent, and even dangerous. What I hadn’t counted on was that another would leave, and yet another one was insubordinate in refusing to cut his budget, and so I fired him. In my mind I was planning on two departures, but in reality within a year four were gone. I therefore encourage presidents to be prepared for departures in addition to those they are engineering/planning on. 

The writer is a former president

When I started as president, the provost literally refused to meet with me when I arrived on campus. He would communicate only through intermediaries.  

The board had made him a finalist for the presidency to honor his commitment to the institution. Instead, it made him view me as an illegitimate pretender.

When I finally walked into his office and said that I would have to find a new provost, he was stunned. I watched the realization wash over his face. His only comment: "You don't even know me."

My response was simple: "What did you expect me to do when you refused to meet with me?" He repeated, "You don't even know me," but in a way that made it clear that he understood that he brought this on himself.

I placed him on sabbatical, paid him for the year, and was the key reference in his finding a next job, but it still cost me dearly with the faculty even though I had little choice but to make a change.

One of many hazards for new presidents can be existing relationships between cabinet members and board members. These relationships often become a difficult or even improper backchannel for new presidents. And the truth is, often it’s trustees who push that chatter. Thus, it becomes the board chair's problem. Throw in a small town or a tightly connected alumni community, and things tend to get even trickier.