George M. Dennison
History
University of Montana-Missoula
Modern university presidents lack the stature and standing their predecessors enjoyed, or so it appears. Critics and defenders alike--even presidents and former presidents--seem to agree with this proposition, albeit for different reasons. Critics note that presidents today exhibit a career orientation, moving frequently from institution to institution, with the result that presidential tenure continues to decline at a relatively rapid pace. Given these increasingly brief terms, it should not cause surprise that presidents find it difficult to accomplish or even to define agendas. In addition, the critics claim that modern presidents either lack the authority or will to accomplish much of substance, or that they avoid controversial issues either on or off campus. However, few commentators have conducted careful comparisons of earlier and modern presidents to establish the validity of the claim about the "shrinking college president." This article seeks to evaluate the claim in a comparative and analytical context and to suggest a revised interpretation. Modern presidents tend to focus on their institutions rather than on higher education in general, by way of contrast to earlier presidents, and they spend more time on campus rather than on general societal concerns. However, that difference appears to be dissipating because of new developments and new needs within the society at large.
In a recent article, David Greenberg described modern university presidents as "Small Men on Campus" in comparison to the likes of Robert Maynard Hutchins of the University of Chicago who introduced the "Great Books" approach to the curriculum and James Conant of Harvard who helped create the National Science Foundation and advised national presidents on weighty issues./1/ Not more than half a century ago university presidents typically basked in the warm glow of admiring public opinion; 50 years earlier real giants ruled the campuses, building the institutions we now celebrate as national and international treasures./2/ Today we more often hear descriptions similar to Greenberg's or that by Robert Hahn, President of Johnson State College in Vermont: "Presidents are like baseball managers--they turn over often, are blamed for what they can't control, and are eagerly accepted by other organizations after they've been given a ticket out of town by their last one." Bart Giamatti, former President of Yale, quipped that "being president of a university is no way for an adult to make a living.... It is to hold a mid-nineteenth century ecclesiastical position on top of a late-nineteenth century corporation."/3/ Much has changed in a century.
The American Council on Education publishes a statistical report periodically that provides intriguing information about the profile of the "average" president./4/ The dominant discipline of presidents changes in response to shifts in the academic marketplace. During the sixties and seventies, engineers and natural scientists claimed a plurality of the posts, only to give way to social scientists in the eighties and nineties. Between 1986 and 1995, the average tenure of a president actually lengthened by roughly one year, from 6.3 to 7.3 years. However, that average encompasses some 2,300 presidents of colleges and universities, large and small. For research-oriented, doctorate-granting, public universities, the average tenure declined by about a year, from six to just at five years. Incidentally, University of Montana presidents, including the incumbent--a group I know relatively well--had an average tenure of 6.12 years, but ten of the 16 served five years or less, and only two served ten years or more. Presidential tenure continues to decline, for a variety of reasons, but most notably for presidents of public, research-oriented, doctorate-granting universities. Perhaps the president of a small or community college has an easier time of establishing and implementing an agenda because of the relative paucity of conflicting interests. In any event, it has become increasingly clear that the declining tenure of presidents has a direct relationship to the effectiveness of university governance./5/
With important exceptions, much of the extant literature concerning the university presidency appears trivial at best and offensive at worst. More often than not, the authors conduct surveys of incumbent and former presidents and draw conclusions about what works and what does not, seemingly oblivious to the differences in campus conditions and cultures. In a little book that offers a worthwhile exception to this rule, Kenneth A. "Buzz" Shaw warned against the "cookbook approach," rejecting the validity of a "step-by-step recipe of specific traits and activities that will result in a palatable leadership." He urged careful thought because "what works today will be outmoded in a very short time," and "what might work at one kind of university won't make sense at another."/6/ Some commentators develop interesting theories of leadership that too often read like prescriptions to guide neophyte presidents. Too few of these authors have ever actually tried to implement their prescriptions./7/ Some presidents or former presidents offer sage counsel about the ways to become an effective president, frequently succumbing to the urge to make observations such as "higher education in the United States may very well be facing a period of greater uncertainty than at any time in our history; " or that "Things are much more complicated now;" or that "it's unlikely that higher education will be able to make as much of a contribution to the welfare of the 21st-century society as we made around the middle of this particular century."/8/ The "good old days" obviously refers to a considerable and varying span of time.
Virtually all commentators agree that presidents in recent years have not lived up to the standards set by the energetic leaders of the late nineteenth century who established the modern American university. Stanley O. Ikenberry asked wistfully, " Where are the Giants? Where are the Conants, the Kerrs, the Gilmans, and the Hesbergs? And what has happened to the institution of the presidency itself?"/9/ Some have suggested a simple solution: Strengthen the power of the president. But, as Nannerl O. Keohane remarked, simple does not always translate into most effective./10/ The checks and balances in campus governance prevent abuses, an outcome deserving of some respect. In the days of the giants, the faculty, students, and others frequently found themselves the objects of rather than the participants in governance. In this sense, the debate about the relationship between "civil society" and democratic government at large applies directly to university governance./11/ Good government depends upon a pre-existing civil society which government alone cannot create.
In many ways, the giants of the late nineteenth century resembled the so-called "Robber Barons" of that era. Thorstein Veblen snidely referred to university presidents as "captains of erudition" in The Higher Learning in America, published in 1918./12/ In typical fashion, he also noted that intercollegiate athletics, one of the innovations of those "captains," related as much to physical culture as bull fighting does to agriculture. Robert D. Putnam and other scholars have reminded us that the country exploded in a marvelous flurry of creative energy during the period from roughly 1865 to 1910./13/ During those years, various leaders and movements shaped the national institutions and infrastructure of modern America, creating a middle-class culture that enshrined professionalism./14/ In one sense, this burst of activity reflected a nagging worry among a growing number of people that the world threatened to spin out of control. The new industries, social clubs and institutions, public school systems, professional associations, modern colleges and universities with their responsive curricula and research agenda, modes of transportation tying the nation closer together, and emergence of a definition of community that broadened the perspective from the local village to the region and the nation all reflected, refracted, and reacted to that unease in the country./15/ By 1910, the founding era had ended, and the leaders who followed had merely to sustain and expand the institutions bequeathed to them by the founders.
And how did this affect the giants on the campuses? Quite directly. The giants thrived during the formative period of reinvention and development because of the fortunate conjuncture of their extraordinary but very special talents and attitudes and the societal needs of the time./16/ To expect persons with similar attributes to do well today within an environment demanding different skills and insights hardly seems logical. The felt exigencies of the time militate against such an outcome. Undoubtedly, those calling for a return to the glorious days of the giants will as quickly change their agenda when or if giants actually emerge. As one of their major strengths or faults, depending on your perspective, giants often trample regular folks as they stride off toward the future. As Hahn put it, "Many of the world's movers and shakers are ruthless, vengeful, and abusive, are hysterically competitive and indifferent to whatever does not serve their ends."/17/ Given the likely consequences, it makes more sense to define precisely the desired attributes of educational leadership, select the leaders carefully on the basis of those attributes, and then hold them accountable rather than trust that the man or woman on the white charger will solve all the problems./18/
But what do the critics find unacceptable about the modern president? Greenberg, with his focus on the tenure of President Neil Rudenstine of Harvard since 1991, explained the deficiencies clearly as he damned with faint praise.
In seven years on the job, Rudenstine's major achievements are the insider's triumphs of management: integrating Harvard's unwieldy system of twelve balkanized schools; curing the $1.5 billion budget of its chronic deficits; running the largest fund-raising drive in the history of higher education; and keeping an institution of 18,500 students and 2,200 professors humming along./19/
He quoted Rudenstine's comment that "the job of the university president now has to do with continuing to set academic priorities [...;] trying to keep the institution humane [...; and leaving] the institution no worse off than you found it." Most people, Greenberg argued, have no awareness of Rudenstine's infrequent "forays into the public square," such as his eloquent and ringing defense of diversity in higher education./20/ In fact, if people recognize Rudenstine by name at all, "they typically associate him with a three-month leave of absence...in 1994 to recover from exhaustion."/21/ In a word, Rudenstine shares virtual anonymity with some 3,200 other college and university presidents. Only those affected by scandal provide the exceptions, such as Peter Diamondopoulos of Adelphi University (lavish living), Donald Kennedy of Stanford University (alleged inappropriate use of indirect costs), or Richard Berendzen of American University (obscene telephone calls). We no longer have presidents who have standing as "revered public figures."
Not so when the giants held sway. They made a difference off the campus as well as on it, often better known in society than on the campus. The giants of today spurn the job of college or university president precisely because it involves so little of consequence and provides such a small return on the investment of time and energy. They seek the main chance in other professions that promise rewards commensurate with the energy, effort, and talent required to succeed. According to Peter Buchanan, President of the Council for the Advancement and Support of Education, "It [the university presidency] is twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, and it's virtually impossible to change anything."/22/ Even Clark Kerr, former President of the University of California, perhaps just a bit whimsically and self-indulgently, complained that "The great man as President has almost completely disappeared."/23/ He might have added that no "great woman" has emerged as a replacement.
Greenberg conceded that the changed conditions require different characteristics of presidents, although he clearly preferred those of the giants. "As universities have become more like other businesses, their presidencies have attracted administrators and fund-raisers more than scholars and visionaries."/24/ Presidents no longer have much time for teaching and learning, but focus instead on managing the very complex bureaucracy of the university and on fund-raising. These days, presidents read budgets rather than scholarly works./25/ Administrative, not academic, experience counts today, and presidents move "from one school to another like journeyman basketball coaches." Reflecting a new trend toward professional management, the Association of Governing Boards recommended in 1996 that trustees look outside the academy for leadership-to government, industry, the military, and the non-profit sector./26/ The tendency to look elsewhere has begun to change the profile of college and university presidents. In 1998, only 57 percent of sitting presidents held earned doctorates, with 11 percent holding master's degrees. But, as one commentator remarked in urging rejection of the Association recommendation, the proposed sources of talent are losing ground as models of management. No need here to detail the turnstiles and parachutes of the corporate sector, the resistance of government to internal change, the squabbles in whatever professions are meant, and the labyrinthine managerial complications of a coed military establishment./27/
Greenberg found it "a relief" that Rudenstine, the scholar of 16th century English literature, acts and often appears as a "throwback" to the past. He chairs tenure committees (up to 30 per year), holds office hours for students, and engages the faculty in academic discussions and debates. Nonetheless, he has followed the modern fast track for a career in administration. He taught full time as a professor for only four years at Harvard where he earned the Ph.D. before moving to Princeton as Dean of Students in 1968 and subsequently Dean of the College and finally Provost, then to the Mellon Foundation in 1988 with William Bowen, and ultimately back to Harvard as President in 1991 to replace Derek Bok. Some have criticized him for his preoccupation with "issues important at a college;" others for his unwillingness "to rock the boat or take stands on public issues;" and still others for failing to provide "leadership."/28/ Rudenstine concedes that presidents rarely take public positions because of their concern about accuracy and competency in the "knowledge-intensive" modern society. While his caution makes sense, and his infrequent public statements have served the public interest, Greenberg and the critics prefer a different style.
Closer analysis reveals little difference between Rudenstine and the giants of the late 19th century in terms of their career tracks. Virtually none of these early leaders enjoyed scholarly careers, with the exception of Andrew D. White, Noah Porter, and James McCosh./29/ In fact, academic administration became a career during the formative period, and the first treatise dealing with the field appeared in 1900, reflecting the experience and expertise of the giants./30/ Moreover, one finds a similar parallel between the giants and the modern presidents in the inclination to follow the career rather than to serve the institution. Some of the most celebrated presidents of today have moved frequently during their careers, thus contributing significantly to the decline in the average tenure./31/ As an example, Gordon Gee has held presidencies at West Virginia, Colorado, Ohio State, Brown, and--after only two years at Brown--now Vanderbilt./32/ Similarly, Joseph Burrill Angell bargained hard before leaving Vermont for Michigan in 1871./33/ Even so, many respected modern presidents matched the giants for long tenures--Father Theodore Hesburgh of Notre Dame, William Friday of North Carolina, Charles Young of UCLA, Joseph Crowley of Nevada, Frank Rhodes of Cornell, Stanley Ikenberry of Illinois, Al Yates of Colorado State, Diether Haenicke of Western Michigan, and Sam Smith of Washington State, to mention only a few. Careerism affected virtually all the professions old and new during the late 19th century, including the university presidency, and it transformed even the ministry from a vocation or calling into a profession./34/ Nonetheless, little difference distinguishes the old from the new on this score.
In Greenberg's view, Rudenstine epitomizes the consensus-minded, conflict-avoidance, caretaker, "go-along, get-along" approach of the modern university president. Once again, however, close analysis reveals little difference between early and modern. In the formative period of the late 19th century, "University administrators seldom acted in a manner that risked offending the sentiments of trustees or the middle range of public opinion."/35/ They avoided controversial issues, refused to hire controversial professors, fired those who became controversial, courted and hobnobbed with the rich and famous, and worked hard to avoid having to compete. In similar fashion, the faculty tended to choose career over loyalty to colleagues when the two came into conflict./36/ The tension between the administration and the faculty during both periods also derived from similar sources, specifically the need for change in response to societal pressures versus conservative defense of traditional practices and vested interests./37/
With regard to Rudenstine, the record reveals something quite different from Greenberg's acid-drenched portrait. Rudenstine spoke early and fervently about diversity and took a leadership role in the defense of affirmative action in the mid-'90s. That he did so, Greenberg argued, proved nothing, since all of higher education accepts diversity and very few academics will disagree on the issue. Moreover, few other presidents joined Rudenstine in speaking out, preferring to wait and see how and which direction the wind blew. Because of the number of individuals and groups who now claim veto power, as Clark Kerr noted, modern presidents tend to keep their heads down until things clear./38/ Perhaps. But Rudenstine spoke out and continues to do so. Why blame him for the failings of some of his colleagues? Even during the age of giants, some very average people held presidencies and acted in ways quite different from the behavior often erroneously attributed to the giants.
So what do the critics such as Greenberg want? After all, Rudenstine reduced administrative costs significantly, fostered interdisciplinary cooperation and ameliorated the silo mentality, facilitated dialogue and discussion across the campus, secured acceptance of a modern information system that required significant changes in operational processes and procedures, and balanced the University budget. Greenberg dismissed these accomplishments as "cosmetic," hardly an accurate descriptor./39/ Rudenstine's failure to make headlines, except when he suffered from exhaustion, stands as the major flaw. In addition, Greenberg charged that he devoted too much of his time to raising money, about $1 million each day during the campaign, thereby allegedly destroying his independence and ability to address the major issues of the day. Greenberg acknowledged that modern presidents have successfully raised money, some $14.75 billion from private sources in 1996 alone./40/ As a consequence, he argued, fund-raising takes too much of the president's time and energy--some estimate 40 to 80 percent, far too high--and imposes a regimen of care and caution so as not to offend potential donors. In Greenberg's view, this preoccupation with fund-raising explains the reluctance of Rudenstine and other presidents to take controversial positions on public issues. Once again, as mentioned earlier, even if correct, the comment applies to the giants as well.
Equally clear, the critics have selective memory, since they make no mention of the failures of the giants. As Arthur Levine has reminded us, "There is a long history of failed college presidencies in America."/41/ The first occurred in 1637 when Nathaniel Eaton suffered dismissal after just one year. Harvard closed for a time as a result, and Eaton later died in debtors' prison. As Levine noted, "What is striking [about this history of failures] is that some of the giants of higher education, people who are revered today for their vision, boldness, and the magnitude of their contribution to education, 'failed' as presidents."/42/ Consider the following examples.
Francis Wayland, President of Brown University from 1827 to 1855, introduced a more practical and relevant curricular approach, but had to resign five years after securing adoption of his innovative curriculum because of escalating costs, declining quality of the students, and the lack of faculty qualified to teach the courses he developed./43/ Henry Tappan became President of the University of Michigan in 1852 and served until 1863. He struggled to transform Michigan after the German model of the research university, denounced practical education, appointed distinguished scholars to the faculty, introduced graduate programs that attracted virtually no enrollments, ultimately "became the butt of jokes both in private and in the press, and was finally dismissed."/44/ Both Wayland and Tappan seemed ahead of their time. John Maynard Hutchins suffered from the reverse. While he attracted wide public attention because of his direct attacks on mass higher education and his call for a return to the classical liberal arts tradition, he never succeeded in his counter-revolution at the University of Chicago. As Levine explained, "the board of trustees and friends found an honorable way for Hutchins to leave," but "he left disillusioned, and his successor ended many of Hutchins's reforms."/45/ Finally, Clark Kerr became President of the University of California in 1958 and presided over that institution during a nine-year period of unrest and dynamic growth. During those years, California emerged as one of the leading public institutions in the country, but it also came to symbolize the revolt of the college students against the establishment. Kerr left California in 1967, as he says, just as he had arrived, "fired with enthusiasm," and then pursued a very productive career as a higher education statesman./46/ Quite clearly, the giants proved as fallible and vulnerable as their modern counterparts.
Levine concluded that these examples demonstrate the need to identify clearly what the call for leadership entails. Those who formulate powerful ideas provide a form of leadership, but often lack the capacity to translate those ideas into practice. Levine described "The difference...[between the two forms of leadership as] comparable to the difference between the roles of a composer and a conductor. The skills are not fungible, though a small number of people have both."/47/ Of the four presidents discussed, only Kerr had the "capacity to provide successful leadership to both higher education and the campus," and even he failed the campus in the end because of political and social pressures within the society at large. Many of the giants spent more time off than on the campus. In a very real sense, as their major accomplishment they established the prototypical middle-class institution that served their own careers and the culture of professionalism that emerged in the late 19th century as the means to restore order to society./48/ Many of the moderns failed as a result of a similar urge to restore order, notably Clark Kerr, but with the university and student rebelliousness at the center of concern.
It seems equally clear that the presidency has changed in response to emergent trends and conditions within the larger society. In fact, it appears that the public perception of the university president parallels quite closely the public perception of the national presidency. During the Johnson and Nixon years, the "imperial presidency" became a major concern, and academe subsequently searched hard for the academic counterparts to Watergate. After Watergate, academe developed and implemented a variety of mechanisms to control the presidency although many disputed it had ever gotten out of control. This effort succeeded so well that presidents virtually lost their capability to control the agenda on campus./49/ The experience of the Clinton years will sooner rather than later stimulate probing reviews of the private lives of university presidents in search of the carefully hidden liaisons with interns, underlings, assistants, and students.
Clearly, Greenberg and his colleagues want presidents as leaders who transcend their campuses rather than lead them. As Greenberg concluded, "Men like Neil Rudenstine are well-suited to keep Harvard, and the nation's other universities, no worse off than when they came in."/50/ But the times need much more. It seems apparent that Greenberg belittled Rudenstine and his contemporaries for failing to provide leadership for higher education nationally, when they, in fact, accepted positions as university presidents with responsibilities for their campuses. As mentioned, Rudenstine deserves considerable credit for his achievements of great potential for the future, but most of these related first to the Harvard campus and second to higher education generally. Moreover, his approach to administration places heavy emphasis upon consultation and communication, not necessarily consensus. He quite plainly rejects the style epitomized by Benjamin Jowett, head of one of Oxford's Colleges during the 19th century: "Never retract, never explain. Get it done and let them howl."/51/ John Silbur, former President of Boston University--Peter Diamondopoulos's friend and mentor--brought this style into the 20th century, although few have joined him./52/ Perhaps Greenberg and the other critics prefer the alternative.
So what does one makes of all this? It undoubtedly depends upon one's perspective. Quite clearly, both the times and the institutions have changed significantly since the late 19th century when the giants ruled the campuses. Very few sitting presidents have earned recognition as giants, although a considerable number of honorable, talented, and dedicated people serve, along with a few unsuited to the work. That hardly seems surprising, since giants become recognizable only after they have realized their visions and departed the campuses. It seems clear as well that the literature about the presidency requires a healthy dose of skepticism and a strong sense of proportion. Assuring a good match between institution and person depends upon realistic expectations and careful assessment on both sides./53/ Robert Hahn and others urge a search for reasonably prudent and able persons who understand the nature of the institutions they aspire to lead./54/ Hahn's rather short list of necessary attributes includes understanding, values, calmness, courage, and fairness. Most notably, he did not list the "vision thing," as George Bush referred to it. Hahn confessed that he "would trade a truckload of vision for a vial of true understanding," and concluded that universities need human and humane leadership, not benevolent despots, saints, or zealots.
In a very real sense, a president or presidency is a work in progress. Many incumbents come to the position certain only of the desire to make a difference and equipped with the expertise and wisdom accumulated through prior experience. Those who succeed do so through dedication, introspection, consultation, and learning, and no little good fortune. As Ann H. Die, President of Hendrix College in Arkansas, explained in a recent piece, "Virtually no one enters academia with the goal of becoming a college or university president."/55/ Thus, academics typically accept an administrative assignment with little formal preparation or relevant training, usually following a search process that focuses only vaguely upon the necessary conditions for a successful tenure. Success as a faculty member and scholar hardly prepares one for administration. New presidents have little time to achieve success "on multiple fronts" following their appointments. The diversity of constituencies and the absolute essential of consultation frequently mean that presidents "learn the hard way that decisions and edicts that address one aspect of the institution, but fail to consider the impact on some or all of the other campus stakeholders, can lead to institutional crisis." The major challenge involves relating the presidential vision for the institution to its culture while also maintaining the appropriate balance between change and continuity. In addition, Die noted, effective presidents avoid isolation by establishing and using peer networks, since close associations on campus engender allegations of favoritism, and guard leisure time to prevent burnout and fatigue. Finally, she emphasized the understood but usually unwritten attributes of "integrity, honesty, and respect for others" as prerequisites for success.
In apparent agreement with the critics who urge a larger role for presidents, President Claire R. Gaudiana of Connecticut College, noted that
apart from the presidents who have committed to Campus Compact and its charge to strengthen volunteerism among students on campus, we have not heard or responded to a clarion call in many decades. Even worse, few people outside academic life imagine we have time for anything but fund-raising these days./56/
She advocated "that we [presidents] take on serious personal leadership in our communities to create sustainable improvements." She urged her colleagues to stimulate and participate in community conversations aimed at fostering such improvements, while avoiding even the impression of attempting to control the agenda. Thus she appears to long for a return of the giants, but with eyes wide open to the potential pitfalls.
Almost as if in response, a group of presidents met in Aspen, Colorado, in July 1999 and committed themselves to a concerted campaign to revitalize the ethic of civic engagement in the United States./57/ In a dramatic statement, they asserted a larger mission and grander purpose for higher education than training people for careers as professionals, while not rejecting that as an incidental responsibility./58/ Invoking the arguments and concerns of scholars who study the relationship between "civil society" and democratic government, they articulated the imperative for universities to prepare their graduates for the essential, often difficult, and usually demanding work of citizens./59/ They called on their colleagues across the country to bring the moral power and authority of the presidency to bear to help recreate the civil society which alone can assure democracy, freedom, and the quality of life we all desire.
The Aspen Declaration has the sound of the "clarion call" to which Gaudiana referred. But it evokes a distinctively different set of activities and pattern of behavior than Greenberg and other critics appear to urge. The institutions and their faculties, staffs, and students remain the center of attention, with a sharp focus on relationships in and with the surrounding communities. Far from transcending their campuses, the signatory presidents intend to transform them into laboratories for democracy and citizenship as well as learning. And, most importantly, they will do so by pursuing initiatives that will probably strike some observers as "cosmetic," eschewing the more sensational, but in all likelihood, less productive grand schemes of giants.
In an admirable formulation, Frank Rhodes, former long-time (18 years) President of Cornell University, described the position of president as an honorable one carrying the high responsibility to secure agreement about the institutional mission and goals./60/ Rhodes argued that attention to that responsibility, combined with a reasonable amount of ability and the recruitment of able co-workers, will lead to success in any presidency, if the president also abides five basic rules:
Assure adequate rest and relaxation and avoid self-inflicted burnout.
Set priorities and abide them.
Pay attention to family, since the family provides the first line of support.
Cultivate friendships with faculty, staff, students, and community members and avoid isolation.
Remain intellectually alive by engaging in the life of the scholarly community.
Rhodes' rules do not appear to have any exclusive or even special reference to giants. To his list, I add only the absolute imperative of a healthy sense of humor capable of self-focus. Every situation has its amusing aspects. Too often those in positions of authority become so accustomed to indulgence that they miss the human comedy of life, particularly their own foibles. That strikes me as real tragedy. Those unable to laugh at themselves will almost certainly become the "small men on campus," or wherever they find themselves.
Finally, George Keller glimpsed the future in his announcement of the emergence of a new social context for higher education./61/ If, indeed, the American university developed as the prototypical middle-class institution designed to support the culture of professionalism as the means to restore order to a society spinning out of control, it served the purpose well./62/ But, conditions have changed radically, as Keller noted. "By 1997 new developments in technology, bioscience, finance, retailing, and international trade had created 189 billionaires in the United States; and a new class structure is emerging, which has a larger number of wealthy citizens, a larger number of poor persons, and a shrinking middle class."/63/ New conditions typically evoke new institutions and leaders, as they did a century earlier.
In many ways, the late 20th century resembles the late 19th century. Things have gotten out of hand or so it has come to appear to more and more people within American society. Even Allan Greenspan, hardly one given to enthusiasm, speculated that the current generation "might be witnessing what he called 'a once or twice in a century' period of economic and social change."/64/ Without contending that Keller has it correct in every detail, it seems clear that the emerging social order will require its own prototypical institutions to serve its needs, and that these institutions will demand leaders committed to that end. Precisely how the re-invented institutions and new giants will differ from the old remains for the future to tell. As one who has observed the behavior and activities of educational leaders for some four decades, I confess a preference for those who share the values and tendencies of Neil Rudenstine rather than those of John Silbur, even if the latter appear to promise dramatic change at a more rapid rate. At the end of the day, I believe we will find that the stature of the person grows in direct proportion to the success in achieving beneficial and sustainable change in these "high seminaries of learning"--a term commonly used in the days of the giants--that have made such a difference for our society.
Notes
David Greenberg, "The shrinking college president: Small Men on Campus," The New Republic (1 June 1998): 18-21.[Back]
Burton J. Bledstein, The Culture of Professionalism: The Middle Class and the Development of Higher Education in America (New York & London: W.W. Norton & Company, 1978), esp. Chapters 5-8.[Back]
Robert Hahn, "Getting serious about presidential leadership: our collective responsibility," Change 27 (#5; Sept-Oct 1995): 12-20; and Art Padilla and Sujit Ghosh, "Turnover at the Top: The Revolving Door of the Academic Presidency," The Presidency 3 (#1: Winter 2000): 30-7, at 34-5.[Back]
See "ACE Profiles American College Presidents," The Presidency 1 (#1; Spring 1998): 9; Marlene Rodd and Madeleine F. Green, The American College President: 1998 Edition (Washington, D.C.: American Council on Education, 1998), passim; and Padilla and Ghosh, "Turnover at the Top," 35-37.[Back]
See James L. Fisher, "Captains in Stormy Waters," The Presidency 3 (#1; Winter 2000): 33.[Back]
Kenneth A. Shaw, The Successful President: "BuzzWords" on Leadership (Phoenix: American Council on Education and The Oryx Press, 1999), passim, esp. x-xi.[Back]
For important exceptions, see James L. Fisher and James V. Koch, Presidential Leadership: Making a Difference (Phoenix: American Council on Education and Onyx Press, 1996), passim; James L. Fisher, The Board and the President (New York, Toronto, Oxford, Singapore, & Sydney: American Council on Education, MacMillan Publishing Co., Collier MacMillan Canada, Maxwell MacMillan Int., 1991), passim; and Fisher, "Captains," 33.[Back]
For one of the better pieces, see the interrogatories of former President Clark Kerr by former President Stanley O. Ikenberry, "Past Triumphs, Future Challenges: A Conversation with Clark Kerr," The Presidency 2 (#1; Winter 1999): 12-19.[Back]
See "From Our President," The Presidency 1 (#2; Fall 1998): 5-6.[Back]
Nannerl O. Keohane, "More Power to the President?" The Presidency 1 (#2; Fall 1998): 12-17; but see also Fisher, "Captains," 33.[Back]
Peter Berkowitz, Virtue and the Making of Modern Liberalism (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1999), passim; Robert K. Fullinwider, ed., Civil Society, Democracy, and Civic Renewal (London, Boulder, New York, & Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 1999) passim; Robert D. Putnam, "Bowling Alone: American's Declining Social Capital," Journal of Democracy (Jan. 1995): 65-78; and Robert D. Putnam, Bowling Alone: Civic Disengagement in America (Forthcoming from Simon & Schuster), passim.[Back]
See Bledstein, 287-88.[Back]
Robert Putnam, presentation to Leadership Symposium, Aspen, Colorado, July 1999.[Back]
See Bledstein, passim.[Back]
See Bledstein, passim esp. 322-23.[Back]
See Bledstein, Chapters 5-8.[Back]
Hahn.[Back]
Ibid.; for a similar attitude in the late 19th century, see Bledstein, 323.[Back]
Greenberg, 17.[Back]
See Neil L. Rudenstine, "Why a Diverse Student Body is so Important," The Chronicle of Higher Education (19 Apr. 1996): B1-B2.[Back]
Greenberg, 17.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Ibid.; but see Fisher, "Captains," 33, for an illuminating analysis of the difference.[Back]
Greenberg, 17.[Back]
Cited in Ibid., 18.[Back]
Patrick Ellis, "The Management Presidency According to AGB," Change 30 (#3; May-June 1998): 44.[Back]
Greenberg, 18.[Back]
See Bledstein, Chapter 5-8.[Back]
Ibid. 287-88, 306.[Back]
See Greenberg, 18.[Back]
The Chronicle of Higher Education (18 Feb. 2000): A50; and (25 Feb. 2000): A44-A45.[Back]
Bledstein, 307.[Back]
Ibid., Chapter 5, esp. 196.[Back]
Ibid., 294-95.[Back]
Ibid., 295-96, 302-305.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Greenberg, 20.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Arthur Levine, "Succeeding as a Leader; Failing as a President," Change 30 (#1; Jan-Feb 1998): 43-45; see also Bledstein, Chapters 5-8.[Back]
Levine, "Succeeding as a Leader."[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Ibid., 44.[Back]
Ibid., 45.[Back]
Ibid.[Back]
Bledstein, passim.[Back]
See Keohane, passim; and Fisher, "Captains," 33.[Back]
Greenberg, 20.[Back]
Ibid., 19.[Back]
See Keohane, 14.[Back]
See citation in note 32 supra.[Back]
See Hahn; and Shaw, 75.[Back]
Ann H. Die, "Reflections on Presidential Longevity," The Presidency 2 (#3; Fall 1999): 32-37.[Back]
Claire R. Guadiana, "A Call to Social Stewardship," The Presidency 2 (#1; Winter 1999): 20-25.[Back]
See "Presidents' Fourth of July Declaration on Civic Responsibility of Higher Education," Campus Compact, Brown University, Providence, R.I., July 1999, passim. In a similar call to action, the American Council on Education has urged presidents and chancellors to move teacher preparation to a higher place on the institutional agenda; specifically see "From Our President: Will This Time Be Different?" The President 3 (#1; Winter 2000): 7-8; and Molly Corbett Broad, "Presidents and Teacher Education: Solving the Puzzle," The President 3 (#1; Winter 2000): 12-23.[Back]
See George M. Dennison, "The New Agenda: Civic Engagement," Address to a Meeting of the Pacific Cluster Executive Directors of Community Service and State Community Service Commission Members, San Diego, November 1999.[Back]
See the works cited in note 11, supra.[Back]
See Frank H. T. Rhodes, "The Art of the Presidency," The Presidency 1 (#1; Spring 1998): 12-18; and Shaw, passim, for similar advice.[Back]
George Keller, "The Emerging Third Stage of Higher Education Planning," Planning for Higher Education 28 (#2; Winter 1999-2000): 1-7.[Back]
See Bledstein, passim.[Back]
Keller, 2.[Back]
Ibid., 1.[Back]