strategic

Strategic Planning and Change in Higher Education:
Some Peculiarities from the Public Sector

D. Bruce Johnstone
State University of New York at Buffalo

Any discussion of planning in higher education needs to begin with a reminder that most colleges and universities have, in fact, changed far more than they are generally given credit for by those who simply assume that "…well, as everybody knows, they just never change.” The popular notion is of faculty that stubbornly and selfishly resist change, of presidents who have neither the skill nor the courage for truly significant change (“restructuring,” whatever that may mean), and of governing boards that are dominated either by their chancellors and presidents or by their preconceived ideological agendas, neither of which is conducive to good strategy for fundamental change.

But I believe these notions to be mainly wrong. Only consider the hundreds of small private residential liberal arts colleges, many of them sectarian and single-sex (or formerly so) that have responded to changing demographics and new opportunities by transmogrifying into remarkably nimble, highly-applied colleges featuring business, the health professions, and other career fields, mainly for older, part-time adults. Or, the hundreds of public teachers colleges that have similarly grown into large, comprehensive colleges and universities granting baccalaureate and master’s degrees in literally hundreds of changing fields. Not to mention more than a thousand public two-year colleges that have adjusted to the challenges of enormous expansion, often entailing multiple campuses, all the while responding--sometimes painfully--to vacillating demands for two-year transfer programs, applied and vocational programs, (increasingly for bachelors degree holders), short-cycle firm- and industry-specific training, and programs meeting community recreational needs.

What other major and significant enterprise spends as much time and energy as higher education rethinking its most fundamental mission and the very nature of its product--as witnessed by the veritable parade of major reexaminations and subsequent alterations of the purposes, content, and instructional methodologies of, say, general education? From where comes the myth of the unchanging college or university? Is it because most colleges and nearly all universities still organize their faculty and much (by no means all) of their academic programs by departments, corresponding (sometimes loosely) to large domains of knowledge, and deliver their instruction mainly (rarely entirely) in units of fixed time called “courses”? Is it because most bachelor’s degrees continue to comprise about one to one and one-half year’s worth of “general education,” about a year and a half’s worth of in-depth study of a discipline or major field, and the remainder divided among required skills (usually mathematics, written English, computer literacy, and sometimes a second language) and free electives? Or is it because the majority of instruction is still delivered via lectures, discussions, seminars, field work, and independent study?

Or do the allegations of unchanging higher education come from the observation that most of the changes within these rather stable parameters seem at times circular, recapitulating the reforms of earlier generations? Or is it simply that the changes seem insufficiently painful or wrenching—unlike the “real world” experiences of shutting down entire factories and moving the production to Mexico, or dropping entire product lines and acquiring whole new unrelated ones?

But we do change, and we do respond to changing markets, revenues, and social and political forces. Yes, we change deliberately, slowly (at least more slowly than most businesses), frequently circularly, and often reluctantly. But I submit that we change in this fashion not for lack of either vision or courage or because of inadequate information or planning strategies, but because of several fundamental--and quite appropriate--features of the very enterprise of higher education.

Multiple Goals. First, our goals, or purposes (or to use a more businesslike term, our products) are legitimately multiple. The education of students, the continued intellectual and professional growth of the faculty, community service, participation in the governance of the institution, and (for some institutions and some faculty) research are all critical products of faculty effort and legitimate products of the institution. The real issue, at least in the public mind, seems to be the prominence given to the goal of research, which most critics of higher education would diminish on the grounds that it diverts attention away from the education of undergraduates and/or is trivial anyway. But the much proclaimed disconnect between the faculty’s need to teach and what the faculty are alleged to be rewarded for is mainly myth. Most institutions of higher education and most faculty do not, in fact, hold research as their mantra. None of the nation’s approximately 1500 community colleges purport to any serious emphasis on research, although there continues to be the expectation of reading and writing and “scholarly activity” that is necessary to keep the curriculum right and faculty minds alive. (The problem with community colleges, in fact, is not an overemphasis on research or scholarship, but far too little provision in the form of faculty time and resources for scholarly activity.) Most of our many financially fragile, essentially open admission, private, regional colleges, and virtually all of our proprietary colleges also provide effectively no faculty time or any institutional resources for research, nor even for the production of “service” or for the niceties of collegial governance. And the relatively few faculty of baccalaureate colleges and comprehensive colleges and universities who produce consistent scholarly research (not just “writing”) generally do so on “academic overtime”—that is, by working nights and weekends in addition to their loads of teaching, advising, and institutional service.

It will always be argued that some universities, probably in the Carnegie “doctoral” classification, ought not aspire to the scholarly emphases of the major established research universities. This is a good topic for another panel or paper. But I would submit that most faculty of “doctoral” institutions were never bound for Stanford or Michigan, nor will their institutions (with few exceptions) ever be invited to join the American Association of Universities, much as some might wish otherwise. Advising loads at such institutions are likely to be substantial. Demonstration of good teaching is demanded at most (maybe even at all) for tenure. And the time and attention devoted to research--admittedly greater than at the comprehensive colleges, the majority of private colleges, and all community colleges--is arguably beneficial to both faculty and student standards, and ultimately to the taxpayer paying part of the bill.

Contrary to conventional wisdom, the feature of higher education’s multiple goals that causes significant change to be both slow and frequently reluctant is not the competition between research and teaching, but is due to two other features of the higher educational enterprise:

that each goal, product, or program is inextricably associated with professional careers and jobs, such that most truly significant alterations of curricular priorities (except in a rapidly growing enterprise) means the loss of jobs and perhaps even careers for academic colleagues who have spent the better part of their midlives preparing for what they do; and

that each goal, product, or program will be defended—however genuinely or otherwise--not on the basis of the self-interest of certain faculty, but on almost ethical grounds, defending not positions, but principles of e.g., the humanities or foreign language instruction or liberal education, however defined. (Some regard the academy’s heightened sense of its own ethicality to be precious or even hypocritical. But I regard it as a great source of strength and legitimacy, even with the occasional inevitable transgressions.)

Multiple Measures of Success or Output. Second, our goals or products are not only appropriately multiple, but they have no uncontestable common units of measurement. This problem goes far beyond the simple difficulty of measuring, say, the output” or value, of teaching or research or community service. The problem lies in the virtual impossibility of comparing these outputs. Everyone knows this, but it still must be emphasized how very much simpler it is to prioritize the alternative products and/or technologies of a business enterprise, where contribution to profit is the single valid measure, where all organizational activities are measurable on their contribution to this single common metric, and where questions of strategy, however technically complex, primarily involve predicting future changes in client demand, competition, technology, and regulatory environments as these ultimately impinge upon profitability. Higher education, on the other hand, similarly must predict future client demand, competition, and technology, but, also--particularly in the public sector—consider future political winds and resulting revenue vacillations having nothing to do with much of anything other than politics. On top of all this, higher education needs to reallocate resources between mainstream academic departments, new academic ventures, bolstering departments that are critical but weak as opposed to strengthening departments that are less needed, per se, but that, with certain additions, might elevate the prestige of the entire institution, or investing in non-faculty academic services such as advising, tutorial centers, and computer laboratories--and all with no common, uncontested denominator of success, or output.

Higher Education’s Culture of Change. Third, these much anticipated “big, tough decisions” must be made in an organization that is primarily professional—that is, where the only significant products are professionally-delivered services—within an organizational culture that is decidedly anti-authoritarian. I know I am sounding defensive, but as a college president and a system chancellor, I envied the lucky business CEO who only had to close a factory, build a factory, outsource some production, change product lines, invest in new production technologies and/or sales methods, all by giving orders to subordinates, and continuing to convince a largely hand-picked board of directors that someone else couldn’t do it all better.

Planning in the Public Sector

To these generic inhibiting features of strategic planning in higher education, I would add five that are peculiar to the public sector.
Political Theatre and the Budget Process. Planning and decision-making are often exercised in a veritable cauldron of political theatre, posturing, and political agendas. Public governing boards are generally small, and can be quickly “taken over” by a new state administration, even though the essential raison of a public governing board is to buffer institution of higher education from such immediate political reach. Because of the popular notions of unproductive or uncaring faculty or superfluous administrators, the public universities can usually be attacked—and the budget cut again—with little or no political liability, and generally with the comforting assurance that the worst that can happen is the loss of some star faculty (and the academic prestige they brought), an increase in class sizes and perhaps some class loads for the rest of the faculty, the loss of some programs (probably unnecessary anyway), and another tuition increase. (The danger of budget cuts in the public sector is exacerbated by the seeming robustness of colleges and universities to financial cuts, at least in the short-term, plus the relative political ease of capturing a large tax savings through a university budget cut, leaving where and how to cut to the university’s management.)

Political Theater and the Call for Planning. Also cynical and ultimately injurious to the strategic planning process can be the purely political demand for a new strategic plan simply to discredit a current or past administration, or to take credit for forcing the president or chancellor or governing board to do something rigorous and businesslike, with little regard for the output of the exercise. Thus, the theatre of strategic planning in the public sector, as noted by Presley and Leslie (1999) and by Stone and Brush (1966).

The Public Sector and the Rules of the Game. The formal rules of the game are frequently so different in the public sector as to make what would be rational in the private sector quite irrational, illegal, or otherwise counterproductive to the public college or university (Johnstone, 1991). States differ, as do universities or systems within states, but among such “rules” may be:

the reversion to the state treasury of any unspent current fund balances at the end of a fiscal year--making it quite irrational to save for the purpose of reinvestment;

faculty and staff compensation negotiations conducted by the executive branch of the state--thus removing from the management of the university (the administration and governing board) control over the university’s (or the university system’s) principal engine of cost inflation;

tuition directly or effectively established by the governor or legislature—thus taking from management’s hands control over a significant source of the institution’s unrestricted, reallocatable revenue; and

any number of other executive and legislative restrictions on e.g., the assumption of debt, the acquisition of property, or the making of contracts—thus removing, or at least seriously hindering, consideration of an entire range of strategic options.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. The powerful political incentive upon governors and legislatures to find budget savings either for tax cuts or for other competing public needs makes it exceedingly risky to plan for any significant reallocation that can be construed as a signal that the university may be over-funded. Even good friends of the university may say, in effect: “we like the part in your plan about the painful cuts and the lower-priority program discontinuations, but we don’t think so much of your proposed reinvestments.” (The seeming robustness of colleges and universities, cited above, makes this kind of outcome all the more likely.) The impact of this difference between the sectors cannot be overestimated. In the private sector, revenue is essentially unaffected by savings or expenditure reductions, per se—or may even be rewarded, as revenue sources (say, alumni donors) may be inclined to give more generously in the face of demonstrated good management. In the public sector, good management that results in any visible surpluses is apt to be punished by subsequent revenue reduction.

Not in My Political Backyard. Finally, politicians, while they may talk tough about “restructuring” and even “shutting-things-down,” are generally the first to prohibit any such genuinely radical actions on the part of a public university system. Rather, the political message may be: “continue to downsize and restructure,” but remember that “all politics is local” so “don’t make any big waves in my backyard.”

Strategic Leadership for Change in the Public Higher Education Sector

In spite of all the cautions and limitations I have noted, only some of which are peculiar to the public sector, colleges and universities have and will continue to change. Furthermore, many of these changes have come about purposefully, guided substantially (although rarely completely) by strategic planning. Successful strategic planning—that is, planning that makes a positive, sustained difference—is successful in part because of good leadership, especially from the campus CEO, but also including critical leadership from faculty, other top administrators (primarily academic), and the governing board, and in the case of the public sector, from political and multi-campus system leaders who create a context in which institutional planning and change can flourish.

Following are some thoughts on the special role of leadership in planing for change in public higher education. These thoughts are in approximate order of their importance--which order also corresponds roughly to the temporal order in which they become important in the process of planning and implementation. The points are, I believe, consistent with the literature reviewed by Presley and Leslie (1999), as well as with my own experiences attempting to provide leadership for change in the State University of New York.

1. The CEO and the governing board leadership must be deeply involved, from the very start of the process, through the confirmation/legitimization (probably by faculty senate and governing board action) of all big new directions. A “Big New Direction” would be the addition or closure of a branch campus, a school, a new department, or any new degree program or organized faculty activity that required new faculty on core, reallocatable funds. The CEO should never be put in the position of having to reject a Big New Direction that he or she could not live comfortably with. After that point of legitimization/confirmation, with an enormous amount of work still ahead in the actual process of institutionalizing the new direction or directions, it is better that the campus head and the governing board withdraw and confine their involvement to continuing support, including the commitment of resources, and to holding specific individuals to specific products on specific timetables (see # 8 below).

2. Leadership should pay respectful attention to the past. This means paying appropriate homage to past strengths of the institution and to individuals associated with these strengths--even as major changes are soon to be proposed, some of which may not reflect this past. It means never to even seem to be denigrating a person or program, the support of whom or which one is ever likely to need. It also means knowing all similar reforms or proposals from the past and what happened to them--especially if they can be said to have been tried before and failed.

3. Leadership needs to be able to convey confidence that change is possible (even if it is not always needed) but also to convey humility in the recognition that all conceivable feasible changes (as well as some infeasible ones) have almost certainly already been proposed in some form at some time by someone in the institution. Leadership’s job is not to come in with a personal change agenda, but is to bring form, focus, and priorities to the ideas with which the institution is already bristling. Neither a unique market niche nor a leadership position on higher education’s 21st century cutting edge is necessary--or likely to be possible. Given the rich array (perhaps cacophony) of ideas at any college or university worth leading at all, form, focus, and priority should be more than enough challenge for any leader.

4. At the early stage of “Big New Directions,” be wary of what is allowed to be written, especially that might harden positions. (The most effective leaders, I believe, write extensively and well, and write themselves anything that should ever bear their name.) All data should be developed and made public by the administration. Do not seek gratuitous approval of background or supporting information, however important it may be to the case. Procedures for discussion, amendment, and final governing board approval or disapproval should be agreed to by the faculty and administration in advance. Expeditiousness should be sought after, but the faculty must not feel manipulated. The proposed New Directions should be carefully but succinctly worded.

5. The CEO must be a primary, but not the sole, sponsor of and spokesperson for the New Directions, and must assure continuing support, including the intention to commit resources. Debate should be open, well led, and when concluded with formal approval, not reopened.

6. Do not try to solve all problems or to work out all details at the stage of agreeing to the Big New Directions. Do not allow inaction on the grounds that “the devil is in the details.” The details may be tough, but the devil is in inaction. There is always more time, and can always be much wider participation, for the details.

7. Be wary of experimentation or “pilots.” Leadership will probably not be able to demonstrate superiority to the satisfaction of statistically-sophisticated doubters anyway. Unless the idea is truly wild or risky, just go for it.

8. Conclude the stage of confirmation/legitimization with lots of theater. Faculty members, like others, have short attention spans for things that do not seem to affect them directly--and whatever the Big New Directions may be, they probably will not truly affect most faculty and staff. Find a very short message--a slogan, perhaps--that communicates the essence of the New Directions. Then communicate, communicate, communicate.

9. The difficult part of change is implementing and institutionalization. These processes are perforce largely decentralized, and may take place in many faculty, staff, and administrative venues. Implementation means specific people asked to accomplish specific things within specific timetables. Leadership must keep track of all of them and be cheerleader and advisor and enforcer. This is where real change takes place. Implement, implement, implement.

10. Contrary to conventional management wisdom, change is not constant—at least in any meaningful sense of the concept “change.” Change is appropriately exciting and energizing, but it is also disruptive and draining. At some points, “plates will be overfull.” What the institution will most need at these points is a sense of stability and time to work out details. It is OK to give change a rest from time to time. It is also OK to conclude at any point that the institution simply does not now need any Big New Directions.

If leadership can bring all this about, there will be change. Perhaps modest, and probably characterized as "incremental." But nonetheless change, genuinely institutionalized, in which the institution, and more importantly the public it serves, can take pride.

References

Johnstone, D. B. 1991. Productivity and Cost Containment: the Challenge of Public Sector Budgeting. Policy Perspectives (3) 2: 22-23B.

Presley, J. A. and D. Leslie. 1999. Understanding Strategy: An Assessment of Theory and Practice. In Handbook of Theory and Research Vol. XIV. Agathon Press.

Stone, M. M. and C. G. Brush. 1966. Planning in Ambiguous Contexts: The Dilemma of Meeting Needs for Commitment and Demands for Legitimacy. Strategic Management Journal. 17: 633-652.

6/22/99