U. of Alaska Has 2 Days to Save Itself. What’s the Strategy?

From calling lawmakers and promoting economic benefits to hastily organizing rallies — including an appearance by a famous rock band with local roots — advocates of the University of Alaska system are trying mightily to save it from devastating budget cuts.

They have until Wednesday.

That’s when Alaska lawmakers will vote on whether to override the budget cuts announced two weeks ago by Governor Michael J. Dunleavy, who made 182 line-item vetoes in the state budget that had been passed by the Legislature. His cuts would chop the university system’s state funding by 41 percent.

University of Alaska leaders have said that the institution will declare financial exigency next week if the $130 million in cuts remains on the books. That status, used rarely, allows institutions to more easily lay off tenured faculty members and cut academic programs.

A special legislative session began on Monday to consider an override, which would need support from 45 of the state’s 60 representatives and senators. University leaders estimate that 39 or 40 lawmakers seem willing to override the governor, a sizeable minority don’t, and about a half-dozen appear undecided.

So the override’s fate could be decided by one or two votes. “That’s not a great position to be in,” said Cathy Sandeen, chancellor of the University of Alaska at Anchorage.

The university system’s office is handling the work of directly lobbying state lawmakers. The office didn’t respond to a request for comment.

James R. Johnsen, president of the Alaska system, told The Chronicle last week that the state’s institutions are “putting everything we have into this effort.”

Early-childhood education, legal services, and Medicaid programs will also face steep funding declines if the governor’s cuts stand.

“His vetoes were not only deep but wide, so there are lots of interests in the state coming together,” Johnsen said. “This coalition is building, and we’ll be working together.”

The most compelling argument the university system can make to elected officials is how the cuts would affect the state’s economy, Sandeen said. The mantra, she said, is “fact-based, no hyperbole.”

For instance, she noted, the Anchorage campus would have to lay off an estimated 700 employees, including tenured faculty members, if the cuts become a reality. There aren’t other suitable jobs for many of those employees in Alaska. So they would probably leave.

In addition, if academic programs are eliminated, students who want to major in certain subjects will be forced to look at universities in other states. Most Alaska high-school students who go to college outside the state don’t come back.

“That means brain drain,” Sandeen said.

One recent study found that the University of Alaska generated $1.1 billion in economic activity across the state and directly supported more than 7,500 jobs. The study included a survey of Alaska residents and found that 95 percent of them see the university as “very important” or “important” to the state.

When Governor Dunleavy, a Republican, announced the cuts, Sandeen said she reached out to the advisory committee of each college and academic program on the Anchorage campus — more than 100 people total, many of whom are local business and philanthropic leaders. She encouraged them to contact lawmakers and make a case for the university and to tell their own networks to do the same, “like a phone tree.”

Now the advocacy is happening organically. “This is a train that’s running down the track,” she said.

What Are Alaskans Looking For?

Richard Caulfield, chancellor of the University of Alaska Southeast, said he hopes that local chambers of commerce can sway some lawmakers. Two of the groups have come out against the governor’s proposed budget cuts.

The core question at stake, Caulfield said, is what Alaskans are looking for from their state government. Do they want “a $3,000 check into the pocket of every man, woman, and child?” Or, he asked, do they want well-funded core services, like early-childhood education, K-12 schools, Medicaid — and the university system?

Some lawmakers believe that the system doesn’t need three separate universities with 16 regional campuses, Caulfield said. They say, “Well, let’s just have one university and put everything online and try to achieve efficiencies that way.”

But most of the Alaska system’s students are not 18-year-olds who live in dorms, Caulfield said. They’re older. Many with children and jobs are largely placebound. If their programs of study are no longer offered on their local campus — or if the campus closes altogether — they can’t just pick up and move. “They’re going to be the losers,” Caulfield said. That’s the message he is sending to lawmakers this week.

Besides the legislative lobbying, there’s been a rush of grassroots organizing. That hasn’t been easy, advocates say, because it’s summer, and most students and faculty members aren’t around. “This couldn’t come at a worse time,” said Alex Jorgensen, president of the Union of Students at the Anchorage campus.

On Monday rallies were held across the state. Caulfield attended the one in Juneau and estimated that there were 800 to 1,000 people there. Student leaders on the Fairbanks campus are leading a “Ride for the Override” caravan across the state over the next week.

On Tuesday a rally on the Anchorage campus is to feature a performance by Portugal. The Man, an indie-rock band with ties to Alaska.

Jorgensen, who’s helping to organize that event, believes that lawmakers don’t understand the role the university plays in the state’s economy. For instance, the number of health-care jobs in Alaska is projected to grow significantly over the next few years. If the university is gutted, he said, where are qualified health-care workers going to come from?

Alaska also has many problems, he said, like high rates of domestic violence and sexually transmitted infections. “The best people to solve them are the people who understand the context of Alaska, people who’ve lived here,” he said. But they need the education and skills to rise to the challenge.

Jorgensen hopes the rally will raise awareness among the Anchorage students who haven’t been paying much attention to the news. “I don’t think students are aware that tuition could essentially double,” he said.

Heather Batchelder, an associate professor of education on the Southeast campus, is busy teaching summer classes, but she’s spent as much of her downtime as she can contacting lawmakers. Batchelder, who’s also president-elect of the campus Faculty Senate, prepares students to work as teachers for special-needs children. She’s told legislators she wants Alaska to become a model for culturally responsive, trauma-informed teaching — but that doing so requires investment.

The words that Sandeen is applying this week to advocate for the Anchorage campus — “fact-based, no hyperbole” — are the same ones she’ll use to make the tough decisions about layoffs, program cuts, and campus reorganization that will have to be made if the budget cuts materialize.

She’s a first-generation college graduate who takes seriously the fact that she wouldn’t have gotten to this point without higher education. So she wants to focus on maintaining access and opportunity. “How do we retain as many students as possible,” she asked, “and continue to serve them even if we’re smaller?”

Caulfield has worked in the Alaska system for 36 years. He, his wife, and their son all have degrees from its universities. “I see the tremendous opportunities we’ve had from our University of Alaska education,” he said. “My biggest fear is that young Alaskans will no longer have that sense of hope and opportunity.”

Sarah Brown writes about a range of higher-education topics, including sexual assault, race on campus, and Greek life. Follow her on Twitter @Brown_e_Points, or email her at sarah.brown@chronicle.com.