December 19, 2022

Cabrini University recently announced it would eliminate the Provost position in an attempt to reduce costs. I suspect it is a trend not getting enough publicity. As the President of my state's Chief Academic Officer Association, I know first hand how other colleges try to manage without the key academic figurehead. At one college where the Provost recently left, they have already posted for the Dean position he also covered, but not the Provost position. There would be nothing strategic in hiring the Dean before the Provost, who should have every say in that hire, so I am assuming they will be going Provost-less. Then, last week ended sadly for me when another colleague let me know her position (and obviously her) was being eliminated at the end of the year.

These two ex-Provosts were the other graying dinosaurs among my peer group. Look across Michigan and you will see the main academic leader represented by interims (usually Deans), split across Deans, assumed by student-service leaders, or, shudder, consumed by Presidents. As Cabrini shows, Michigan ain't alone in this.

The Cabrini University student newspaper questioned the President's decision to eliminate by posing the question, "what does a Provost do?" Their first deduction: there's "a lack of clear definitions and ambiguity about the position."

Yeah, nailed that one. "Everything" can be pretty difficult to bullet-point.

The Cabrini newspaper identifies "the chief academic officer on campus [being] accountable for the creation of plans, as well as implementation of academic strategies. On top of these duties, she will supervise Cabrini’s schools and academic departments, faculty personnel issues, academic administration, student success, the library, the registrar’s office, institutional research, instructional technology, and online learning. She also cited a role that will have her working on student retention and university diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts." Take out Institutional Research and you got an appropriate summary statement for my job description.

Sound like something that can be added to someone else duties? While saying nothing explicitly, that almost certainly means that the majority of university employees report eventually to a chief academic officer. If you count adjunct, and you have to, because I am responsible for everything that happens within a class, I have 150 or so people report to me. I am guessing the next highest number for any other Vice President is 20-30.

What the above description also misses is how the Provost has to somehow be the bridge between academic strategies and non-academic strategies. You could argue that a college or university should have NO non-academic strategies, because why do something if it doesn't support your core mission. I will leave that alone, because maybe at a major university some things might qualify as no-academic, but at a community college, everything intersects with academics, and my ability to manage that intersection in the interest of upholding the academic standards is tested everyday. (I wonder if I could convince accrediting bodies to build roundabouts? Might reduce the horrific crashes at these intersections.)

Most obvious is freaking enrollment (I am being respectful with my F word here). State legislators and high schools put enormous pressure on us to provide dual enrollment opportunities for kids still in high school. I must justify that the learning environment for a dozen 16-year olds in a high school 55 minutes from my campus is as stellar as it is on campus. I need to be able to staff all of these additional sections (with high school principals begging me to use their high school faculty), and when I can't find someone, I might be asked to change delivery of the course instead of simply cancelling it ("just put it online," as if quality online sections are a dime a dozen).

In addition, the College's admissions and enrollment staff are doing everything they can to recruit students in an industry with too many colleges and not enough students. Everyday, I am asked why I can't start up a program in X, Y or Z. And if I support X, someone else may question why X and not Y, while others believe X is too risky. As I have told my SMC colleagues repeatedly the last two years, they have a very conservative Provost, who wouldn't approve any new program based upon his own gut feeling, but unlike Congress, I have to temper my conservative nature to keep our institution functional.

In short, I am in constant negotiation mode even when not sitting across the table from my faculty association.

This kind of pressure extends to the tensions between advising and instruction, or between athletics and instruction, or between tutoring and instruction. A variety of laws may hinder creative solutions to these kinds of challenges. More often than not, I am having to tell faculty why we can't do something, or aren't doing something, or won't be doing something, generating, I am sure, a cynicism that no one cares about academics.

That's the thing: a chief academic officer, a Provost, cares passionately about academics. However, he or she also has to lead academics through the complexities of a higher education institution and industry often as the only one in the room who HAS to know everything on the table. I have to admit my least favorite regular conversation for my job concerns scholarships. You would think it would be easy to give out free money, but, nope. You would think I could just tell my band director, for example, "here's a blank check for scholarships, do what you want," but it is not that easy either. Pell grants and other financial resources have to be applied also. 

No one think that I am simply complaining. On the worst day, a Provost has no idea what he or she may have to deal with. On the best day, a Provost has no idea what he or she may have to deal with. It can be really exhilarating or really exhausting, usually both. I am, however, rarely bored.

One of the interesting things I have noted with the listserv I manage as President of the CAO Association is that questions posed are often unanswered. When I started as Southwestern's CAO over a decade ago, a question would likely get 20 or so responses, now most just get one or two. How many of my colleagues, void of the depth of experience, simply have no answer?

However, I think that is why all of these fool-hardy decisions to do away with Provosts will harm great institutions. While Provosts have no idea what may come down the pike on any day, we know what to look for and what might come with it. We go to work everyday with our metaphorical riot gear already on. Do we really want the Keystone Kops instead?

P.S. For regular readers, this might explain Saturday's poem an Wednesday's Song Series post (and, no, it won't be, as the title might suggest, Morrissey).