Four months into my first provostship and I understand why it’s been called a lonely job. Well not exactly lonely — my work days are heavily scheduled and I’m routinely surrounded by people in a way that introverts might find brutally exhausting. But it’s a position for which you have no on-campus peers. At least as a dean there were other deans and it was clear who “my people” were.
Don’t get me wrong: These first months on the job at the University of Tulsa have been exhilarating — every day feels like both an adventure and a learning experience. And in various pockets of the campus, I’ve found people I can talk with about work, life, and sports to keep me sane.
But none of those folks are provosts. And sometimes you need to hear from people who hold the same position as you do. We can find community, and we can make community, and I’ve been trying to do both. I found a Twitter list of fellow provosts that I follow. And I’ve been reaching out for advice in both random social-media callouts and more-focused efforts (such as emailing my fellow provosts in the American Athletic Conference).
Here, then, in “The Provost Files” is some of the most useful advice I’ve received about the first year on the job.
People will expect you to know how things work immediately. One former provost at two institutions told me that, both times, what “struck me was that there was a general belief that knowledge comes with the title — automatically and immediately. The consequence is that, on Day 1, the new provost is expected to know many things about ongoing issues and projects and to be ready to make decisions.” In her first week on the job, this ex-provost recalled being asked to make an instant decision about “something that clearly had ramifications that I could not even guess at without a great deal of background information.”
Carve out your identity, distinct from the president’s. Another former provost suggested that a new provost should ask the boss, the president, for one or two areas or projects to “own.” That can help you establish your individual presence and distinguish the new provost’s role and identity from the vision and leadership of the president.
Don’t be invisible to students. I spoke with a student-affairs leader who had a similar, but more pointed suggestion: Seek out one or two opportunities early on to bring the provost’s realm of academic affairs together with the vice president for student life’s turf. “And make sure to set up regular meetings with student-government leaders,” she added.
A central challenge for every provost is the relationship with the president. Some people have enthusiastically encouraged me to “manage up.” That phrase makes me squeamish because it seems to imply that the provost needs to be sneaky in order to manipulate the boss. I’ve heard two competing recommendations for how to shape this all-important relationship with the president:
- “Don’t do anything that your boss won’t approve of — if you lose the trust of the president, your career is toast.”
- But I also was advised: “You need to stand up publicly against your president on one or two issues. The campus — especially the academic side of it — needs to believe that you represent their particular interest at the highest level of the institution.”
Taken together, those two theories paint quite a discordant picture of the president-provost relationship. I can’t say whether one or the other is the absolutely correct approach. But in my own situation, I much prefer flat-out private disagreement followed by a cheerful willingness to do what the president wants.
Yes, I represent the faculty at the highest level of the institution. But my work at the university is to help fulfill the president’s vision — one that I wholeheartedly buy into. If that willingness ever mutates into resistance, both the president and I will know that it’s time for me to go. That’s why it’s so important for an academic-affairs leader to have a tenured position to return to on the faculty.
Several retired provosts have emphasized to me to remember at all times that the role of provost is just that — a “role.” It’s not a fully theatrical role, in which the provost follows a script, but there is a character and a performance related to being a provost. Part of the position is carrying out important performative, ceremonial functions at convocation, commencement, and many other campus events.
Find out what sort of relationship (if any) the president expects you to have with trustees. On this front, I’ve also heard two pieces of advice:
- Some folks recommended I leave the trustees to the president. In a well-functioning institutional structure, they said, the governing board has full confidence in the executive leadership it has chosen in the person of the president, who functions as both the leader and the supreme manager of the institution and its resources. What that means for the provost: Stay out of board politics and focus on aiding your boss, the president.
- Others, however, encouraged me to foster a personal relationship with the university’s board members. The provost oversees academic programs, and the trustees are naturally interested in the strength of those programs at the institution for which they exercise fiduciary responsibility.
Many provosts won’t have to decide whether to meet with the trustees or not — your president will let you know. In my case, the president explicitly asked me to meet with the chair of Tulsa’s governing board, with the chair of its academic-affairs committee, and with other board members who expressed an interest. I felt comfortable doing so because my boss had asked me to.
Your long-term success depends on how well you work with faculty governance. Numerous experienced provosts advised me to build ties with faculty leaders. “They won’t always be a tactical ally,” one provost told me. “But if they are not strategically aligned with you, you are much less likely to achieve success.”
At my university, as at many others, the faculty senate is organizationally situated within academic affairs. Well before I arrived on the campus I was regularly meeting with faculty-senate leaders, who shared with me a critically important recommendation: “Study the Blue Book.” The Blue Book is Tulsa’s faculty handbook, laying out definitions and processes for promotion, tenure, and the resolution of conflict among faculty members at the institution. That was good advice, if easier said than done. Most faculty handbooks make for tough reading (about as gripping as a refrigerator manual), and ours is no exception. You’ll never be able to memorize the thing. The goal is to absorb the scope of it — enough to know where to look when you’re in doubt about some faculty policy or procedure. At many colleges and universities, the faculty handbook constitutes, effectively, a contract that extends beyond the written words in any offer letter made upon hiring. Differentiating between the literal meaning of certain passages and the spirit of the faculty handbook takes the appreciation for detail of a lawyer and the faith of a priest.
Be open to your predecessor’s advice. The former provost at Tulsa, Roger Blais, who served in the position for nearly two decades, made a very practical suggestion: Resurrect the “university fellows” program he had instituted, but which had lapsed in a subsequent administration. The program brings together a group of faculty members with the provost’s office at a casual dinner meeting once a month to discuss big issues in higher education.
I am grateful that I took his advice, and have begun meeting with a dozen professors chosen by a faculty committee. We read short pieces, typically from The Chronicle, on higher-education issues and try to apply them to our situation at Tulsa. The conversations have been astoundingly interesting and creative, and the topics are led by faculty interest.
“Take a fresh look at everything.” This final tip is one I heard 16 years ago when I first accepted an administrative role. A senior administrator suggested that I listen to every new idea, and every complaint, without preconceived judgment.
New provosts are hired because they have ideas to make an institution better. But ultimately the provost is one voice among many. In taking this office, your experience in higher education and your vision for its future have resulted in a leadership role within (not over) the faculty, of which you are a member. Leadership in higher education is best exercised by the many, and not the few.
