BY ALICE BROWN

One of the first articles published by the Chronicle of Higher Education in 2022 asked, “Who Wants to Be a College President?” Author Eric Kelderman writes that recent changes in higher education have led to a shift in the qualities boards seek in a new president. One change he describes is that many (if not most) seek presidents who are “risk-tolerant” and “willing to push through major changes.” Changes during the past two years have increased the pressures presidents face, straining their health and personal relationships. Kelderman writes that “despite the challenges,” according to search firms “there is no shortage of people who are interested in becoming a college president.”

If trustees are “looking for someone . . . to push through major changes,” it is easy to assume that presidents will be pushing the faculty to make those changes, and these changes will often affect faculty members themselves. The recent crises in higher education indicate risks for professors will only increase, and the traditional benefits of the profession will decrease. The bleak outlook for the future of higher education might lead one to ask . . . “Who Wants to Be a College Professor?”

After spending approximately eight years working towards a doctoral degree, the first challenge the new PhD graduate may face is obtaining a college or university teaching job in a narrowing job market. Despite the anticipation that the early pandemic retirements and aging of college professors would open tenure-track lines, institutions instead often assign vacated courses to contingent faculty members or redistribute them to existing faculty members.

In decades past, one significant benefit of being a college professor was job security—usually in the form of tenure. After a certain number of years of teaching at one institution of higher education, a faculty member could apply for and generally expect to receive tenure. Now, even if new graduates find promising teaching positions, they are likely to learn that the job security that once came with a teaching position no longer exists. Consider one recent example: William Paterson University will reduce the number of faculty by one hundred; almost 40 percent of the full-time faculty are to be laid off to help the college balance the budget with declining enrollments and increasing deferred maintenance.

While prospective professors know that tenure may be denied or even taken away for “cause”—such as violation of a major institutional policy, commitment of a crime, or creation of or distribution of negative publicity about the institution—in recent years the major reason for loss of tenure has been “financial exigency.” And there are a lot of colleges facing financial crises. If an institution’s financial stability or institutional enrollment wanes, the job security of tenured and non-tenured professors appears at risk. An October 12, 2018, Inside Higher Ed article cited AAUP data that “73 percent of all faculty positions are off the tenure track” and complained that the “erosion of tenure” and the “instability that contingent faculty have” is creating major changes in the culture of teaching in higher education. The loss of tenure is not, however, the most serious threat to the distinctions once attributed to positions in higher education.

More disturbing is the idea that college presidents may use the pandemic to “push through” new policies and practices with little or no input from the faculty, even though faculty lives are most impacted by the changes. Faculty members with legitimate medical concerns may be able to use the Americans with Disabilities Act to insist on teaching from home; however, if the administration fears negative consequences, such as a loss of income from declining enrollment or complaints from students expecting in-person classes, the faculty members are likely to have their request denied.

Professors today are also more vulnerable to student complaints about class content and teaching methods. Students come to college with expectations that were uncommon a few decades or so ago. Many know the laws regarding harassment or discrimination, and if they believe a professor has subjected them to either and that the administrators will support the students, they may be quick to complain to the administration and expect their demands to be implemented immediately. Even if the administrators support a professor during challenges to academic freedom, they may claim financial exigency to help the board justify some repercussion that appeases the students as well as addresses the institution’s financial crisis. A professor may be pressured to teach an extraordinarily high number of courses, privately tutor students, or accept some responsibilities generally assigned to staff.

A January 24, 2019, article by Adam Harris in the Atlantic, also titled “Who Wants to Be a College President?,” similarly discussed the challenges of finding qualified applicants. Three years ago, the expectations of “ideologically conservative” boards seeking a new president to please both the trustees and the on-campus constituencies was the major issue in presidential searches. Today, it seems that the traits desired by the constituencies are so far apart that boards have ceased to care what kind of leadership is desired by those most involved with the major business of the college (that is, teaching). Not only are faculty no longer critical to the selection of new presidents, but the multiple circumstances threatening the prestige and benefits long associated with teaching at a college or university will also surely reduce the numbers of graduates who want to be a college professor.

Guest blogger Alice Brown, president emerita of the Appalachian College Association, has written or coauthored eleven articles and five books in recent years: How Boards Lead Small Colleges, Staying the Course, Cautionary Tales, and Changing Course. Her most recent book is the memoir Fifty Million for Faculty and Students: My Fundraising Years.