Note: Previous essays in “The Provost Files” series have looked at how to hire deans, do’s and don’ts for new provosts, and leadership styles.
The provost’s authority on college campuses has narrowed yet deepened over the years. And the shifts in the role have changed how we provosts do the job today.
Many campus functions once aggregated under the provost — admissions, enrollment, student affairs, research, institutional research, even the budget — have spun off into independent vice presidencies over the past half-century. The leaders of those areas used to be deans or vice provosts reporting to the provost. Now they report to the president, whose cabinet has swelled.
The provost’s staff has come to include a narrower range of campus leaders directly focused on a particular mission that has only grown more complicated: the academic success of faculty members and students. Where the provost’s role has widened is in the depth of our interactions on academic programs, hiring, curriculum, and the like. Today’s provosts are like the “activist judges” bemoaned and celebrated by the public: We don’t just perform traffic control for the various bodies who design curriculum, run job searches, tenure faculty members, and improve advising. Instead, we are deeply involved in the making of these things and in envisioning how the core academic work of the institution can improve.
Almost all of which involves working intensely with faculty members, and a key part of the provost’s job is figuring out how to do that effectively, while respecting the roles of deans and chairs.
As we provosts know from experience, regardless of org charts, presidents like their hands on everything (unless it’s something they don’t really care about). The division of labor necessary to run a university — at this moment in the history of American higher education — isn’t always made according to logic, but rather to the different skill sets and interests of the president and the other senior leaders.
Don’t get me wrong: I think the typical structure we have today is more effective for the complexity of colleges and universities in 2024. As provost, I don’t need an org chart showing that I’m “above” the dean of students to have a collaborative relationship with that dean on behalf of our students. I’d always rather build a relationship than manage an organizational structure, especially when I have a president who trusts me and the rest of the leadership team to take initiative and make things better.
And an organizational structure that emphasizes the provost’s role in building and leading the faculty, the curriculum, and the academic success of students makes sense. After all, at an institution made up of multiple colleges, the provost’s most important team is the set of academic deans responsible for the great work the faculty members do and for the academic success of students (undergraduate, graduate, non-degree, online, hybrid, international, etc.). The deans work directly with faculty members in their colleges, as well as through department chairs.
The provost, on the other hand, needs to figure out effective and productive ways to work with the faculty. There are formal and informal ways, as I outline below. There are friendly and less-friendly ways. There are carrots — and, well, not exactly sticks, but consequences — that a provost can deploy to effect change. What follows is advice on the three main ways for a provost to work with faculty members:
Interact directly with professors. When I was a dean, I didn’t like it when the provost did that with my faculty, and your deans won’t like it, either. But as provost, you can — and should — get to know excellent professors who share your vision for the institution. They may be great teachers or outstanding scholars, or they may even just be overall good citizens willing to get their hands dirty and work hard to build the place.
Once you’ve identified and met these best-and-brightest scholars and teachers, try to find ways to support their work. You may even be able to empower them to do things they might not have thought of. Promising these faculty members special perks — professional-development funds, release time from teaching, or other benefits within your power to offer as provost — can be tricky if you don’t involve their boss. So, whenever possible, involve the appropriate dean.
Typically I will encourage the dean to bolster the work of a particular faculty member by transferring money and other resources to the dean, who can then provide it to the faculty member. I like the dean to get the credit, even if it was my provostial insight that led to the recognition. Whether the faculty member realizes “it was really you” is dependent on circumstance and the nature of your relationship. But letting the dean take the credit makes it easier to get the work done while preserving the loose hierarchies that describe faculty life.
(And don’t feel too bad about those instances when you make an effort to get to know professors directly without involving their deans. At some point, those same deans will sidestep you in conversations with the president, either because the president wants to hear directly from them or because the deans think they can get a better outcome by going over the provost’s head.)
Work with the deans. Although the provost is the head of the faculty, the deans have insight into particular disciplines and, in most cases, have a better grasp of what’s actually going on in the departments and academic programs. The provost’s individual meetings, as well as the larger council of deans meetings, give you a chance to understand better what professors are (and perhaps aren’t) doing, along with ways to improve their collective lot.
As a provost, you lead the faculty as a faculty member yourself. One of the deans is your own dean. Wise provosts defer, whenever possible, to their (chosen) deans on matters of particular college-level issues. You can ask the questions — “do you really think that Professor X will do a good job as chair?” or “why hasn’t Professor Y taught an undergraduate course in three years?” — but, in most cases, you should allow yourself to be satisfied by the answers.
Sure, sometimes the dean will cover for a faculty member who is a friend, or is someone whom the dean owes something for a nearly lost-in-the-sands-of-time favor. But as provost, you are better off letting the dean manage things that are not top of your list or in your wheelhouse of expertise. For example:
- When a faculty member comes to you complaining about another faculty member: Listen, but then ask if you can involve the dean(s).
- When a student complains to you or your office about a faculty member: Meet with the student, but then involve the dean to fix the problem.
- When, from data or rumor or any of the other information sources you might have, you learn of a faculty performance issue: Unless it’s an HR issue, ask the dean to resolve it.
Letting the deans work with their faculty is much better than you trying to micromanage things that they should be taking care of.
And if you don’t trust your deans? That is a matter for another column!
Work with the faculty senate. Recent news from the University of Kentucky might make some think that formal representative bodies of the faculty are on the way out. However, most campuses still have faculty senates or other formal manifestations of shared governance. As provost, I’ve had my share of tussles with my university’s faculty senate, but it would take a lot more than tussles — or the kind of deliberative processes that impede a university’s desire to be “nimble” (that word should be exiled from higher education) — to make me think we shouldn’t have a faculty senate with defined responsibilities and rights.
Now, working with a faculty senate is rarely easy. Although on many org charts, the senate is part of the provost’s team, in no way does a faculty-senate president (as that body’s leader is typically titled) report to the provost. And the role of the senate president is unambiguous: to preside over the official representative body of the faculty.
The two keys to a productive relationship between provost and senate are respect and communication. There’s no one way to demonstrate mutual respect or to foster useful exchanges. But here are some things I’ve found helpful:
- The small things matter — for example, in public settings, the provost should make sure to acknowledge the presence of senate leaders and include them in both ceremonial and substantive ways. Respect also requires refraining (not always easy for me, since I like to talk) from commenting in a snarky way that might be seen as undercutting the views of a senate leader. Sarcasm will never be a provost’s friend.
- Strive for open communication. If a senate leader asks for information, provide it if you can. If you can’t, don’t just leave it at that. Try to communicate the basis for your inability to share.
- If you make a decision well within your purview but that you know will ruffle feathers among some in the senate — talk it over with leadership as a courtesy. On more than one occasion I have shared a forthcoming decision with senate leaders, only to amend it after hearing their legitimate concerns.
- Be patient. Remember that provosts have spent more time thinking about governance, let alone the particular policy and practice decisions they make on a daily basis, than the leadership and the membership of the faculty senate. For you, serving as provost is a full-time job, and you have made a commitment — for the time being at least — to devote your thoughts and energy to academic leadership. The senate presidency is usually a part-time job for a very limited period of time. The relationship works if each side can extend grace to the other, even in circumstances that feel more like management and labor than academic colleagues sharing governance of the institutions to the success of which they are all committed.
When a faculty member, even a member of the faculty senate, exasperates you by wielding the term “faculty governance” when the right phrase to use is “shared governance,” deploy your key tools of communication and respect. Refer them to the “Statement on Government of Colleges and Universities” from the American Association of University Professors (“jointly formulated” with the American Council on Education and the Association of Governing Boards of Universities and Colleges). The statement refers to “shared responsibility and cooperative action.”
Successful “shared governance” requires that governing boards, administration, and the faculty each play key — and complementary — roles in determining and carrying out policy and process on the campus. In most cases, the governing board is the final institutional authority, even on matters in which faculty members play key roles, such as tenure and curricular decisions.
Regardless of who is the ultimate decision maker on an issue, keeping professors informed — and listening respectfully and fully to their concerns — will make the provost’s job not only easier but more meaningful.
Most provosts are not elected by the faculty and owe their allegiance in office to the institution’s president. But provosts are, in almost all cases, faculty members themselves and owe their ultimate professional allegiance to academic ideals surrounding the discovery and dissemination of knowledge. If those ideals come under fire, provosts need to think deeply and clearly. I hope I, at least, would choose my faculty role (fortunately protected by tenure) over my administrative ambitions. In such cases, you and the senate president might, in some circumstances, have more in common than you might have with your boss, the campus president.
Finally, it is important — for a provost’s well-being — to understand that particular faculty members you’ve grown to believe in and count on might, in some circumstances, not side with you on an issue, but rather, with the senate leaders. That doesn’t constitute betrayal, although you might, as provost, feel a twinge of pain when someone you like and trust takes a position or casts a vote contrary to your own.
You are not in a battle with the senate for the loyalty or affection of the faculty. As provost, you have undertaken a complicated set of roles that don’t always cohere. Accept that, and accept that nobody else will really understand.
