Although the average tenure of a college president is the shortest it has ever been and the turnover rate the highest, the position still attracts candidates. These men and women all know going in about the unique challenges, but they believe they possess the wherewithal to achieve what their predecessors couldn’t.
Why in the world would anyone want the job?
That’s a question that involves the egos of those who throw their hats into the ring. The fact is that all are convinced they can handle the pressure from boards of trustees, faculty, and students. They start out with hope and optimism, but they often learn why the job was recently called a “toxic hellhole.” College presidents can’t operate the way leaders in other fields do given the byzantine world of university governance. They are expected to solve what are insolvable problems in a way that doesn’t alienate any single stakeholder.
College presidents start out with hope and optimism, but they often learn why the job was recently called a “toxic hellhole.”Yet some do manage to post impressive results, like Mitch Daniels of Purdue University, while others, like Minouche Shafik of Columbia University, are forced to resign in disgrace. Their stories constitute instructive lessons as the fall semester progresses.
Daniels’s record at Purdue stands as a model for navigating the issues dividing higher education. He attributes his success to staying neutral on controversial issues. That is partially true, but it fails to acknowledge other steps he took: He froze tuition for each of the 11 years he was president, grew the student body, and doubled donor revenue. By keeping spending low and investing in fewer areas, Daniels created a paradigm that led to more student attendance and more revenue.
Shafik, by contrast, sealed her fate when she waited far too long before unleashing the NYPD on radical pro-Hamas protestors. If she had acted sooner, she wouldn’t have avoided total criticism, but at least she would have been seen as a strong leader willing to take a stand. Few, however, were willing to admit that she was trying to avoid the mistakes that the presidents of Harvard University and the University of Pennsylvania made that led to their own downfalls. Instead, they painted her from the start as an enemy of free speech determined to crack down on so-called solidarity encampments.
It’s always risky to compare the track records of presidents from different universities. That’s particularly so when some are private and others public. Moreover, it’s impossible to try to duplicate the personalities that, in some cases, have led to success. What works in one situation fails in another despite the seeming similarities. For example, if Daniels were president of Columbia, he would not be able to put into play exactly the same principles he used so effectively at Purdue. Conversely, if Shafik were president of Purdue, she likely would find more support for her actions.
Despite this caveat, it’s invaluable to recall the situation at Notre Dame University in the 1960s, when student demonstrations over the Vietnam War were at a peak. On February 17, 1969, President Theodore Hesburgh issued an eight-page letter to the student body making clear that protestors who violated the rights of others or disrupted the school’s operations would be given 15 minutes to cease and desist before facing suspension or expulsion. His action was criticized by Notre Dame students, who demanded his resignation, but Hesburgh stood firm. Editorials in 250 newspapers were nearly all favorable.
The situations then and today are not altogether different. Students possess strong views about ongoing events and have the right to express themselves. The major difference is how presidents react. Hesburgh had the courage to stand up to students. Today, presidents are reluctant to do so. Students need to know that there are serious consequences for their actions. Until they learn this lesson, there will be continued chaos on campuses. That’s why university officials spent this past summer developing new rules to restore order. They concluded that permissiveness is perilous and that a hard line is likely the best option. It remains to be seen, however, whether this policy will prevail.
Notre Dame’s Theodore Hesburgh had the courage to stand up to students. Today, presidents are reluctant to do so.The job of college president is clearly not what it used to be. Today, success requires the tact of a diplomat, sterling scholarship, and the ability to connect with students. It’s a rare person who checks all of those boxes, which is why high turnover persists. It’s also why it’s not enough to say that rules about campus protests will be strictly enforced. That’s meaningless until law- and rule-breakers actually get what’s in store for them.
A large part of the blame rests on the boards of trustees that approve a new president. They need to place more emphasis on experience dealing with unruly students rather than hiring academic stars. Although they are not as visible as college presidents, trustees are more powerful. As one observer noted, the key to their success is to “listen to every constituency, but be beholden to none.” Trustees are ultimately responsible. If they won’t take a more active role in what takes place on campus, then accreditors and elected officials must step in.
Trustees in the past have shown they can do their job. In November 2011, for example, the Penn State Board of Trustees fired Graham Spanier, the university president, and Coach Joe Paterno over a sexual-abuse scandal on campus. In doing so, the board made it clear that leadership had arrived. It’s this kind of action, and that of Father Theodore Hesburgh at Notre Dame, that is sorely needed as the fall semester progresses. That trustees of Brown University even considered a divestment vote on Israel this fall is evidence that capitulation to radicals is still alive.
It’s doubtful, therefore, that anything substantially different will occur in the near future. Students know that they can easily intimidate university leaders. The change began when elite universities surrendered to their radical critics in the 1950s. Those running the university gradually chose to cooperate with those who wanted to burn it down. The two sides disagreed about the chief purpose of the university. Was it teaching and learning or the transformation of society? The battle continues in the form of the supposed liberation of the oppressed, with students now used for that purpose.
It’s too soon to know who will eventually win: traditionalists or revolutionaries. But unless there is stronger leadership, the odds sadly favor the latter. That was evident in the response of presidents to October 7, 2023. After years of dogmatic restrictions on free speech, they suddenly became outspoken supporters of even the most hateful speech. Public trust is at an all-time low for good reason. Why will things be different going forward? The struggle for control of our colleges is playing out now.
Walt Gardner was a lecturer in the UCLA Graduate School of Education.