Pusey's mantra seems especially coherent and relevant today, and some of us would like to believe
that we are carrying forward his ideals when we go to work every day.
But there can be no doubt that the job of a college president has evolved considerably over the last
half-century. We are expected now to be expert financial managers, personal counselors to a wide
range of constituents, dispensers of patronage, wise settlers of disputes, and social butterflies. We
have to calculate yearly tuition, room, and board rates and then defend them to everyone,
including members of Congress, and worry ourselves to sleep over access and affordability for
those who cannot possibly pay the full charges. We must become personally involved in the
recruitment of students, as well as faculty and staff members, and negotiate foolproof contracts for
the construction of major facilities (once we have raised the money to make them possible). Many
of us teach. There is no choice anymore but to be leaders on issues of global warming and
environmental sustainability, not to mention smart technology. We travel to visit alumni and
implore them to return to campus. We find and welcome an array of outside speakers, and then
pray that they will not embarrass us or otherwise make our lives more difficult.
We are constantly on the alert for the approach of helicopter parents — and their stealthier variant,
submarine parents — who frequently make themselves available to cut a better deal for their
children on such issues as grades and disputes among roommates. We look after the nutrition,
mental health, and personal happiness of those children, and also, if we know what's good for us,
ascertain that they are not downloading free music from the Internet or being overcharged for their
textbooks.
Those who run public institutions — and, in Maryland and some other states, private ones, too —
must maintain complex relationships with public officials, including legislators whose votes on
issues large and small have a major impact on our institutions' well-being. At the city and county
level, everyone has to tend critical contacts, because, at any moment, the denial of a permit or the
requirement for an extra-wide fire lane can mean hundreds of thousands of dollars in extra costs.
I once heard William G. Bowen, former president of Princeton, say that the smaller the college,
the harder the chief executive's job — the problem being that after a certain point, there is hardly
anywhere to pass the buck or anyone to share the blame. So it is assumed (usually correctly) that
the president had something to do with every bad decision and minor mistake. Accountability
oozes from our pores.
For my own part, I am dazzled by the people who preside over large state universities or complex
private ones that include medical, law, and business schools. Their task is like that of the rulers of
the former Soviet Union, with all that implies about ideological disputes and political intrigue at
every level. Often enough, their clout is not as great as that of the football or basketball coach,
although they will be held responsible for any excesses or abuses in their big-time athletics
programs.
After attending to all those matters, some of us, I suppose, still aspire to think a few great
thoughts, conduct some research, and do a bit of writing. I don't mean to whine, but with
workweeks running to 60 or 80 hours or more, that is not always possible. And private family time
is generally in short supply indeed.
So what does all this amount to? How much should we be paid to sit precariously at the cutting
edge of social change, to think like entrepreneurs and perform the duties of handymen, to help
shape the minds of the young people who will soon be running the country? Are we worth more or
less than hospital administrators, media managers, and lobbyists? This being America, I think we
have to rely on the market to decide. But does our compensation really deserve greater scrutiny
than everyone else's?
Oh, yes, my son was right: We do give a lot of speeches. But there really is no such thing as a free
meal — not in these jobs.
Sanford J. Ungar is president of Goucher College.
http://chronicle.com
Section: Executive Compensation
Volume 55, Issue 13, Page B12