THE CONTINUING SUICIDE OF HIGHER EDUCATION.

Inside Higher Ed's Josh Moody asks, "Why Are So Many College Presidents Resigning?"  His explanation:

The resignations come as the sector faces a long list of challenges, from the growing politicization of higher education to the shrinking number of students to go around. And while certain institutions may be more affected by these issues than others, experts believe that a difficult environment is likely driving presidents away.

G. David Gearhart, chancellor emeritus of the University of Arkansas who has written books on higher education leadership, argues that the college presidency has become an increasingly hard job due to challenges that only seem to be increasing.

“I personally believe that being a college or university president may, in fact, be the toughest job in America, or for that matter across the world, but certainly in this country. It’s become a very difficult position to do the right way,” Gearhart said. “There are so many groups out there that a college president has to try to appease, and it’s almost impossible to do that with all of the political machinations that are happening these days, not to mention the huge decline that we’re going to be seeing over the next several years in enrollment, which has already started.”

If it's a difficult environment, it's a self-inflicted difficult environment. "Attacks on public higher education are attacks on American democracy, Philip DiStefano writes."  Mr DiStefano is chancellor of Colorado at Buffalo, and he blames everyone but himself and his colleagues.

In my five decades in higher education, never have I seen such divisive rhetoric and legislative action used to diminish public education—an institution as venerable as our democracy itself.

But one thing I have always believed is that America’s public universities are fundamental to a functioning democracy and a source of unlimited solutions. A strong democracy is associated with social mobility, civic engagement and a diverse, pluralistic society—all cornerstones of our country’s higher education system.

As the leader of Colorado’s flagship university and one of the nation’s leading research universities, I am committed to using my voice and to urging my fellow higher education leaders to do the same in the face of a wave of damaging actions and rhetoric that threaten free inquiry.

Such high sounding buzzwords, and such a divergence of desire from reality.  Those "damaging actions and rhetoric?"  I call them a self-inflicted DeSantis problem, one in which the faculty refuse to maintain standards, and in which faculty priors are so tight that the resulting research is silly.

None of which stops Mr DiStefano from hubristically begging.  His vision of the university includes such things as "a conduit for social mobility;" (so effective a conduit that U.S. News sell those guides) "a cultural and scientific engine that promotes economic growth, technological advancement, and disruption of the status quo;" (just don't let Ron DeSantis talk about his vision of disrupting the status quo) and "a convener of experts committed to solving problems;" (sorry, too often insiders who limit the range of discussion) "and a force multiplier for activities promoting the public good."  Never mind that there is not much good done by people who claim to trade for the public good.

Never mind, either, that what goes on at the flagship campus might not be reality at the branch campuses of the state system.  Let Doug Eskew of the Pueblo campus of Colorado State elaborate.

At the campus where I am on the faculty, for instance, the largely working-class and nonwhite students arrive on campus already disadvantaged by the educational system. On average they arrive underprepared and require more resources to succeed than richer, whiter students. Nevertheless, our university system spends almost three times more on student instruction at the flagship campus—$13,700 per student in Fort Collins versus $4,787 in Pueblo. The reasoning behind the inequity is both familiar and untenable: students are supported differently because each campus is required to have its own budget. From my own experience, any suggestion that the budgets be combined for the sake of diversity, equity and inclusion is met with disdain.

Perhaps now is a good time to demand more equitable policies. At this moment when universities are reaffirming their commitments to diversity, equity and inclusion, perhaps it is a good time to question the policies that work against these same commitments. In my own context, inequities are supported by a requirement that the poorer, browner campus maintain and balance its own budget. The result is a “ghettoized” campus where disadvantaged students remain disadvantaged. The result, moreover, is a regional comprehensive campus that is treated as separate and unequal.

If I went into a Colorado State common room and suggested that there's a pecking order of Ivies, state flagships, regional comprehensives and the like for a reason, and that the place to address those students "disadvantaged" (on my grouchier days, I'll say "rendered unemployable by") the educational system is ... starting in kindergarten, I'd likely be scolded and chased from the room.  Fine.  Trash the messenger, enjoy the decline.

The presumption is that students at regional comprehensive universities should just get job training—as though working-class students couldn’t possibly become better citizens and people by studying for the sake of learning. And the thing standing in the way of a return to those better days when the poor and working-class got job training are the elite-educated professors who refuse to accept their places.

Professor Eskew is of the English department, and far be it from him to accept any of the responsibility for the death of the higher learning. He'll be happy to take Colorado taxpayer money, though.

One part of solving the problems I have pointed out here is to treat the faculty, staff and students at a regional comprehensive campus exactly the same as you treat faculty, staff and students at a flagship campus. That equity begins by spending the same amount of money and resources per student in both places, by integrating the budgets and by ceasing to ghettoize campuses that serve students of color and the poor and working class. We should not accept this kind of unequal treatment in any aspect of public life—especially not from university systems that claim to be the champions of diversity, equity and inclusion.

I don't know, if the Pueblo faculty want the same sort of respect their colleagues at Fort Collins get, let alone their colleagues in Boulder or Madison or New Haven enjoy, perhaps the place to start is with the recognition that they are in the same business as those more visibly placed colleagues, and say no and uphold standards.