Until his sudden downfall, C.L. Max Nikias enjoyed an extraordinarily successful presidency at the University of Southern California. During his eight-year tenure, he raised over $6 billion in a capital campaign, opening a new campus in record time. Housing for students doubled, classroom space increased by a third, and the student body became one of the most diverse in the nation for an elite private institution. Over 100 new endowed chairs were created, and the faculty garnered more awards than ever before. USC’s Board of Trustees gave Nikias a $1.5 million bonus in 2015.
And yet, when Nikias sent a note to the campus community in mid-May outlining a USC gynecologist’s sexual misconduct and a plan to move forward from the scandal, the faculty erupted in protest. Within a week, a faculty group had collected over 200 signatures on a letter calling for Nikias to resign. Although the Board of Trustees sent a note to the college community expressing support for Nikias, he announced his resignation on May 25 and stepped down this week.
How is it possible that someone who had accomplished so much in a relatively short time could be ousted so quickly for something that was not a personal transgression? What went so wrong?
The real problem here actually developed slowly, because of a steady erosion of trust in USC.
For a community to trust a leader in a crisis, it needs to trust the leader on a daily basis.
My research over the past generation continually points to an organization’s culture as the culprit in the problems that confront a college. Culture, granted, is a messy term. Nevertheless, the culture of an organization — the language, signs, symbols, and meanings that its members create — helps frame actions and determine outcomes. An organization’s culture is durable but delicate. Bonds of affiliation are built over time, and new members add to the culture as they learn about it. People learn to trust one another through shared experiences.
The problems at USC point to the heart of a culture where trust was in short supply:
Presidential communications were largely stage-managed and formal. While ceremonial addresses by the president can serve as one effective part of a larger strategy to encourage dialogue and discussion, such formal messages were about the only communicative strategies Nikias employed. From a cultural perspective, communication determines how individuals interact with one another, how messages are interpreted, and who communicates (or doesn’t) with whom. To build trust within an organization, communication cannot consist simply of formalized messages from a leader to followers.
Decision making happened from the top down. The huge increase in non-tenure-track faculty members resulted in professors who were hesitant to disagree with senior administrators. Midlevel administrators took their cues from the senior administration and communications flowed downward. A culture of trust is one where creative conflict exists. Different groups do not have to agree with one another; they are supposed to have different viewpoints. A healthy culture develops out of these disagreements.
Meaningful faculty participation in governance disappeared. With many professors unwilling or unable to speak up, the shared-governance model lost its strength. While the official organizational charts didn’t change, many of the participants within the university structure no longer perceived themselves as consequential members of the decision-making process. The result was that faculty tended to shy away from participating in governance because it was seen as a waste of time — window dressing when real decision making happened in the president’s office.
A culture of trust is one where individuals look for meaning not simply from official pronouncements, but also through the mundane actions that occur on daily levels. For a community to trust a leader in a crisis, it needs to trust the leader on a daily basis. At USC, this trust was in short supply precisely at a time when people needed it to enable the president to marshal support and help the organization transcend its scandal.
The lack of trust at USC can be seen at all levels of the institution. Examples of this spoiled culture range from the mundane to the ridiculous. A dean, upset about faculty attendance at meetings, mandated the professors’ presence by handing out demerits to her recalcitrant charges if they skipped a meeting, instead of making efforts to encourage their meaningful participation.
In another case, just after the president resigned, the provost sent an errant note to the campus community stating that children of employees would no longer be allowed on campus. The message was meant to be a simple reworking of a state policy, but rather than give the provost the benefit of the doubt, the faculty went into crisis mode and started calling for his resignation. When trust is absent, all actions seem suspicious.
The way forward is to reckon with the mistakes that have been made. For one, we need to acknowledge that a compliant faculty is not in the best interests of anyone. Critical reports about university crises should not be kept secret among a select group of trustees but shared with the leadership of the faculty — who must speak up and take action.
If there is a silver lining to the storm clouds that have descended over the University of Southern California, it is that many individuals have been deeply involved in trying to rectify the wrongs that have occurred. A group of professors from across the institution held meetings, wrote letters and op-eds, and encouraged their colleagues to speak up. A new senate president has been vocal about the need for the faculty to be involved in meaningful decision making. A new board chair has spent the summer reaching out to professors across the campus.
The dismissal of a president, a letter-writing campaign, and the good intentions of a board chair cannot automatically repair a damaged culture. But the crucial lesson learned by many of us is how delicate an organization’s culture is, and how important our continuing involvement is in maintaining its health and well-being.
William G. Tierney is a professor of higher education in the USC Rossier School of Education and a co-director of the Pullias Center for Higher Education.
