Presidential transitions at colleges and universities typically do not receive much media attention, unless they occur in the context of scandals or controversies. The recent and fairly extensive coverage of the presidential transition at the University of Dayton is an exception to the rule. It also might be a harbinger of change in how leadership transitions occur in higher education, and in how governing boards manage them.
The University of Dayton’s recent transition was newsworthy precisely because it did not conform to the common pattern. Predictably for a presidential search, the chosen candidate came from outside the institution; he was not the product of an internal leadership pipeline. However, this new president was not handed the keys to the institution after his predecessor had vacated the president’s office and residence. Nor did the new appointee have to rely on an interim president who might or might not have been a well-informed and well-intentioned guide to the institution’s strengths and weaknesses. The new appointee was asked to work with the retiring president for a period of many months before starting his own tenure.
The University of Dayton’s transition was not just civilized and orderly: It was planned. Dayton’s trustees did not leave the stage after choosing the new CEO and wishing him good luck. They remained engaged to ensure that, to the greatest possible extent, the new appointee would be well prepared for his role on Day 1. The role required understanding the goals of the governing board for the institution and a commitment to meet those goals.
Dayton’s trustees, it appears, practiced their fiduciary duties of care, loyalty, and obedience in a way that is uncommon in the governance of higher education. Those principles, clearly spelled out by the Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges, have both legal and ethical dimensions.
Trustees of for-profit companies, whether privately held or publicly traded, have strong incentives to recruit new members who understand those principles and to review annually how well the board as a whole and its chief executive practice those principles. Failure to abide by them can have grave consequences for the corporation itself and for individual trustees.
In contrast, many higher-education boards, especially politically appointed ones, do little to brief new members about their fiduciary duties. They do not review their collective practices on a regular basis, or they do so fitfully, sometimes when confronted with crises such as financial shortfalls or the sudden departure of a chief executive.
Why does this happen? What might higher-education leaders do to ensure that Dayton-style presidential transitions become the norm rather than the exception?
Skeptics might observe that Dayton’s trustees were in a privileged position: a successful presidency, a successful search that produced a candidate well attuned to the culture of the institution, and no major crises on the horizon. This is true, of course. But it is also true that most presidential transitions occur under similar, generally benign circumstances. Yet most boards of trustees seem unable to capitalize on their good fortune. They disengage too early from the transition process and fail to plan a meaningful agenda for the new appointee.
What are the consequences of this behavior over time and across the spectrum of higher-education institutions? Part of the answer may be found in examining those very short presidential tenures that ended in terminations or involuntary resignations.
While serving as scholar in residence at the American Council of Trustees and Alumni in 2014-15, I reviewed about 30 examples of presidential tenures that ended three years or less after the initial appointment. A couple of them ended due to death or grave illness; a handful of others involved documented personal misconduct or financial malfeasance. But most very short tenures occurred against a background of conflict and distrust between governing boards and new appointees.
Academic institutions generally take pride in the deliberate, participatory, and inevitably lengthy process by which new presidents are chosen. This process should, and in many cases does, lead to a low margin of error. Yet errors do occur, and they are inevitably painful. Conflicts between trustees and new CEOs are always destabilizing; for fragile institutions they can be devastating.
Even the most elaborate and participatory search process will not produce good outcomes when those who have legal as well as ethical fiduciary responsibility for an institution fail to understand or to practice their duties.
The most common mistakes? First, trustees begin the presidential-search process without solid data about the institution, its comparative strengths and weaknesses, and its prospects in a complex higher-education universe. Most trustees understand the importance of data, but they convince themselves that “the right person” will figure out what there is to figure out, and go from there.
Second, trustees get strong signals from various constituencies inside their institutions, and sometimes from their own management team, that they are expected first and foremost to be cheerleaders and checkwriters. They are not always clear which functions they can safely delegate to their staff (if they have any) or to campus-based officials. Trustees do routinely delegate two very critical functions: the searches for senior management and the formulation of strategic plans.
Two assumptions underlie the now ubiquitous delegation of presidential searches and strategic planning to hired consultants, and both have far-reaching implications for the governance of higher education.
One assumption benefits consulting firms in general and executive-search firms in particular. It is that the best help to resolve institutional issues comes from the outside. Uncritical acceptance of this assumption explains why academic institutions are much less likely to develop internal leadership pipelines than are corporations, although they have as much or more untapped human capital available. Even leadership-training programs, like the American Council on Education’s Fellows Program, tend to groom successful applicants to pursue opportunities outside their home institutions.
A second assumption is that the talent pool for prospective CEOs is small and shrinking. In support of this assumption, executive-search firms cite the number of baby-boomer presidents who are approaching retirement age. The assumption that a wave of retirements translates into a scarcity of available talent is questionable at best. In the past 20 years, the higher-education universe has expanded steadily in size, institutional types and missions, and demographic diversity. The potential talent pool is larger and deeper than it has ever been.
When selecting and working with new chief executives, most higher-education trustees can and should do better. If circumstances at their institutions suggest the need for major changes of strategy and direction, including the recruitment of visionary, “break the mold” CEOs, governing boards should expect to be fully engaged in the recruitment process and to remain engaged for some time after they have selected the new leader.
Sustained engagement over weeks and months is onerous, of course, but the payoff is clear: stronger institutions, and sometimes a bonus — those favorable media stories money can’t buy.
Clara M. Lovett is president emerita of Northern Arizona University.
