Higher education is rife with organizational structures that seem inscrutable. One such source of mystery is captured by the phrase, “I serve at the pleasure of,” which characterizes a distinct relationship between a major power holder (e.g., a dean, a provost, a president) and an appointed underling (e.g., a professor, a staff member, or lesser-ranked administrator).
Imagine an ambitious junior colleague who wants to make a mark in administration. The junior partner does all that is asked in the appointed role, including digging up evidence that shows a trusted and long-serving leader claimed undue credit for the “success” of a project. All goes well until the junior colleague shares the result of this successful detective work with someone who subsequently discloses the dirt to others. Soon it’s an open secret — the long-serving administrator is embarrassed, the brunt of watercooler jokes. The junior partner’s supervisor views this failure to maintain confidentiality as a fatal error. Soon the junior colleague is excluded from various meetings and then asked to resign from the administrative post or face the ignominy of being fired.
That outcome is representative of what happens when you no longer “serve at the pleasure” of a higher-up. To explore the meaning of that phrase, and the benefits and risks of such administrative positions, we have harvested experiences from assorted colleagues who have managed to rile an overlord, resulting in a request to step down from an appointed, and often high-profile, position. We conclude with advice for how to make a graceful career recovery.
The Latin phrase durante bene placito regis translates to “during the pleasure of the king” and traces back to the 1700s. The principle connotes obedience and loyalty, up to and including subsuming your own values to provide unwavering support for “the boss.” In a 2007 essay in The New York Times, William Safire pointed out that “pleasure” as a guideline for job performance was especially problematic. “The political meaning of pleasure is far from ‘delight,’” Safire wrote, “and even further, one hopes, from sexual gratification. It means ‘control,’ which will always be shifting and disputable in a flexible, balance-of-power system.”
In campus HR offices, “serving at the pleasure of” constitutes an employment status that is sometimes referred to as “at will.” These arrangements are indefinite or open-ended rather than secured with specific or renewable time limits — i.e., you have the position so long as the leader remains in a pleasant state of satisfaction with your work. The appointments typically can entail any “associate” or “assistant” designation. The downside is that when the leader is displeased, you have few protections from being terminated without explanation and with mystery enough to fuel water-cooler talk for months.
When the cause for your dismissal is not obvious, the underling may never know what sins prompted the leader’s change of attitude. It may represent cumulative dissatisfaction over a variety of small infractions and some final disappointment. Or the rationale can be as simple as not liking the personality of an inherited underling. In such cases, public dissection of the demotion will provide lots of alternative explanations.
Clearly this lopsided power relationship entails plenty of potential quagmires for your career. Among the most common to be aware of:
The clean sweep. No matter your administrative skill, you may lose the post when your boss leaves. Newly hired deans, provosts, and presidents often want to signal that things will change in their administration, so they import their own supporters, acquaintances, and even cronies, displacing the previous leader’s. A fresh start may be just what the institution needs. However, the clean sweep also can mean the loss of institutional knowledge and administrative experience at a critical time.
The dark-side isolation. By accepting a high-profile but nonetheless subordinate administrative position, you may notice a shift in your relationships with faculty and staff peers. The inevitable jokes about joining “the dark side” reflect their skepticism that your relationship with them can continue on its familiar trajectory. You may be entrusted with a leader’s secrets (about negative tenure projections, budget cuts, and the like) that would provide substantial credit in your social-bank account with peers — that is, if you were able to divulge the information. But you will not be at liberty to disclose anything without breaching confidence. Your intentional distancing might be perceptible to your peers, and, as a result, your social circle may shrink. At the same time, you and your decisions are likely to become the object of speculation.
The “holding your nose” challenge. As a leader’s representative, you may be put in a position of acting on orders that you neither agree with nor condone (a personnel action, a program cut). You can explain that it is your duty and “nothing personal,” but that will not allow the friendship to recover. Nor is it wise to clarify how you genuinely feel about the situation, since that disclosure would undermine your boss’s confidence in your judgment and influence perceptions of your own leadership.
The kill-the-messenger paradox. Serving at the pleasure of a campus leader can entail some significant ethical challenges, especially when things may not be going well in the kingdom. Insurmountable conflicts can arise between doing what is in the best interest of the institution (e.g., sharing bad news) versus striving to protect the administrator’s reputation or feelings. A short-sighted leader can eject the bearer of bad news without making any fundamental changes that would benefit the institution and make the campus a more pleasant place to work.
The Dunning-Kruger complication. The Dunning-Kruger effect established that humans tend to overvalue our own competence, and perceive ourselves to be performing at a higher level than objective reality would reflect. As an at-will employee, you can be affected by this in two ways. First, you might be the problem. You may be unable to see the genuine harm to the institution or embarrassment to the leader that results from some action you have taken, and thus are stunned when you are asked to resign. However, the Dunning-Kruger effect also applies to a boss who blames you because they are unable to factor in their own contribution to some unhappy state of affairs.
The one-sided story. When things derail, a displeased boss can make a precipitous judgment about your continuing employment — with no obligation to explain why “going in a new direction” would be more satisfying. In fact, campus lawyers often advise high-ranking administrators that “the less said, the better.” In the absence of any obvious public markers of poor performance, you and everyone around you may be stunned by your precipitous ouster. Confused and upset, you may be tempted to air your grievances to any sympathetic colleague who will listen. That could come back to haunt your career. Instead, try to negotiate a sabbatical semester or even a year’s leave as a face-saving refuge for both you and the leader.
The fall-guy problem. Some underlings who have been shown the door later come to suspect that both their hiring and firing were designed to take some heat off the boss. An underling can execute an unpopular but necessary decision and then be terminated, leaving the leader untainted — even if that leader engineered the change.
The academic mobbing. An injured animal may experience mobbing, a collective effort to drive the maimed creature away from the herd or flock. Likewise, when you are suddenly forced out of a key at-will post, you lose any salary, prestige, and social capital linked to the job. What may start out as an announcement to go in “a different direction” can lead to embarrassment and humiliation as peers speculate about plausible explanations for your dismissal. In a truly hostile or toxic environment, your only option may be to move to a new institution. For those who choose not to flee the herd (perhaps you have tenure or can return to a previous staff post), it may take a substantial amount of time out of the limelight for your professional relationships to normalize.
The body-count imperative. What if your boss has taken management advice from Lewis Carroll’s Queen of Hearts? On campuses where a leader’s displeasure is triggered fairly easily, discarded individuals can begin to pile up, engendering a culture of fear. Make a mistake on the wrong day and you become the object of an announcement indicating you have decided “to pursue other opportunities” or “to return to their first love of teaching and research.” Indeed, we know of one institution where a leader gave out pins to his loyalists — any administrator who did not have a pin was immediately recognized as an untrusted lieutenant whose days of influence were numbered.
How to Rebound
Many faculty and staff members accept these at-will appointments to test the administrative waters and build experience for their own quest to move up the ranks. Here are some factors to consider before you say yes, and how to regain your footing should the worst happen.
Assess your risk aversion. We have followed the careers of many colleagues across higher education who have soared high and then, like Icarus, had their wax wings melt because of political intrigue or poor choices. Some rebounded with alacrity, landing new posts quickly. Others struggled to regain a place on their home campus or at a new one.
It’s important to know your own temperament well. How much do you relish risk and change? Do you thrive on internal politics, or does it make you anxious? Could you survive a public failure, especially one not of your own making?
No guts, no glory. If you take a career risk and accept an “at the pleasure of” opportunity, remember that it can lead to great gain as well as great loss. As a trusted underling, you can learn a lot about higher-education folkways and shape your administrative aspirations. Typically, these appointments entail a salary bump, release time from teaching, and public recognition that you have earned the leader’s trust. Some would-be administrators are preternaturally gifted at playing the game; even when risks are high, they routinely survive regime change.
Go into the position knowing that its duration is uncertain. Wait at least a year before you make any major lifestyle changes based on your bump in salary. Before you commit, think about a backup plan and negotiate some particulars. Would you return immediately to the faculty ranks or can you count on an administrative leave to reinvigorate your teaching or research? How long might you need to serve to secure some permanent enhancement of your salary? And if you’re not a tenured professor, will an appropriate staff opening be available for you?
Support positions can be transient, so plan ahead. Anticipate some turbulence if a new leader inherits oversight of your at-will administrative position. No matter how functional you may have been, the new boss may simply need the support of a different comfort animal to do their best work. When you accept the job, have a contractual agreement in hand that gives you a soft landing should regime change occur.
Practice strategic coupling. In the best-case scenario, you and your boss minimize the likelihood of incongruent values with some heartfelt discussions on the front end about the implications of personality differences and management styles. Talk through your mutual expectations: What kind of hours will you have to be available? Should you automatically assume you are “in charge” of the office when the administrator is away? What kind of email responsiveness will produce the best outcomes? Being explicit about workplace operations will enhance the likelihood that you can deliver.
Provide a letter of resignation at the outset. It’s a common military practice. The ritual signals absolute acceptance that a leader has the power to replace you at any time, for any reason. This gesture conveys that you know where the power lies and understand the potential complications of the relationship.
Don’t expect a rescue. Especially when you don’t see it coming, you may harbor some fantasy that your colleagues will rise up and protest the decision to replace you. That is unlikely. If anything, such turmoil makes people hunker down and hope the uproar will be short-lived. Others, especially those who distrust administration, may take particular pleasure in your downfall. Schadenfreude, the human tendency to take perverse delight in the downfall of formerly powerful or successful people, is alive and well in academe. Consequently, a precipitous removal can lead to a lonely existence in the short-term.
Investigate how your potential boss has treated previous aides. If you’re looking to move into administration via an at-the-pleasure-of post, keep an ear to the ground. Does this boss have a mercurial rep? A good leader takes care to avoid feeding gossip or embarrassing a soon-to-be-ex underling. Note when leaders issue a supportive announcement that identifies a meaningful new direction for an ex-aide. Has the leader organized appropriate farewells for departing colleagues? Those are some signs that this leader is a person you can trust to treat you fairly.
Evaluate your grievance and lawsuit options carefully. Obviously, serious abuses can transpire in academic settings that might need to be resolved with legal action. As a refugee from administration, you probably can’t count on much faculty support in your quest for restitution. And your former boss will have access to far more resources than you to fight a good fight, which tends to discourage underlings from taking any action. The power is going to rest with the person still in control, not the dethroned. Beware of eager lawyers who may align with your cause for the prospect of suing an organization with deep pockets.
Learn from the experience. Particularly if a termination decision seems to materialize out of the blue, it is probably time for a serious self-assessment. Were there hints of the leader’s dissatisfaction that you missed? How might your own biases have gotten in the way of evaluating the threat that was looming? A disappointing outcome can serve to improve your vigilance and sharpen your political sensibilities for the next opportunity.
In The Life of Aristides, Plutarch described a formal ostracism protocol in which citizens could vote out of power individuals who disappointed the community. The banished lived elsewhere for 10 years, but at the conclusion of their penance, they could return with all their rights and property restored. We actually know of cases in which administrators told employees who had been asked to resign from an at-will job to “fly under the radar” for a while. Perhaps Plutarch had it right. It may take a few years for memories of institutional turmoil to fade, regardless of the culpability of the underling. And in the meantime, you can be a resource for others on how to survive a demotion and even thrive with a new direction.
