Provost's Blog

For those accustomed to Big Thoughts and Crucial Issues in the blog, apologies. As this is posted I’m in Vietnam and not up to Big and Crucial. A more personal musing, instead.

I realized last week that I had only 6 sessions left with my world history class (now 4). And I realized, as I have often done in recent years particularly with undergraduate classes, that I felt at most ambivalent about the imminent completion. Of course it’s nice to have a change in routine, and not grading for several weeks is a real joy. But it’s also a bit sad to realize that I probably won’t see most of these students again, or at most in passing. It’s been a really pleasant class, with good discussions, a lot of apparently interested students, and some at least apparently nice people. One works with them pretty hard, and then the connection ceases. Sure, I still have a few former undergraduates with whom I’m in contact. (Once in a while, in fact, I meet a doddering former student from way back, and I confess I don’t always remember the name or face.) But it seems a slight sorrow that so many of them will simply disappear from view.

And with this in mind, another seasonal note. I always remember a quite rigorous history class I took as a sophomore. The professor was distinguished and demanding. Our schedule had us meet the Friday between Thanksgiving and the weekend, no big bother to me as I couldn’t get home. But he made it clear that if he had to show up, there would be something from that class session on the final — and indeed there was. Later I had the same guy in graduate school and we ended up corresponding after his retirement — not friends, but warm acquaintances. I even published one of his later articles, a pretty good one. So connections remain sometimes.

Thanks to Karen Gentemann and her Assessment staff, we’re beginning to be able to ponder the results of the most recent National Survey of Student Engagement, fondly known as the NSSE survey. We’re comparing Mason results both to our past (2003 and 2006 surveys) and to other research intensive universities (also, to high research intensives, our aspirational group). The news is not bad, positively good in some respects, but also cautionary. I hope my colleagues will take a look at the summary comparative results: https://assessment.gmu.edu/Results/NSSE/2009/index.cfm

Here’s my own take. We’d worried in recent years, based on senior surveys, that we were not challenging our undergraduates adequately. Maybe not, but the NSSE data suggest we’re doing better and are right in the competitive range (which overall is, however, a bit lower than one might wish). We do exceptionally well on diversity scores, far better than our peers in students who interact with people of markedly different backgrounds.

There are two areas of concern, in terms of our comparative position and lack of positive change. First, our students don’t report as much interaction with faculty outside the classroom as we would like, though we have been doing better than we did in 2003. This involves advising, career discussion and so on. We score well on some specific measures, like timely reporting on student work, but overall it’s a category that needs further and more imaginative attention. Also, we lag in students reporting many enriching experiences — a deficit probably related to faculty interactions and one which we can hope the QEP will help address.

Particularly interesting, in the challenge category, involves the facts that seniors report us lower than freshmen do and that transfer students  are noticeably less engaged than students who start with us. Again, there are direction arrows here for further work on our part.

Again, the survey overall implies some heartening achievements in teaching and learning, which means that the areas needing improvement are potentially manageable.

Let me end this one by thanking the several people who’ve commented on recent blogs: I appreciate your interest and above all the ways you improve on my initial remarks.

I’ve been interested in the issue of students who start college and don’t finish for a long time. I grew up as a faculty brat, and my father recurrently told me about students who started college, took the infamous Rhet 100 (I think that’s right), failed, and were bounced out — he claimed to the tune of over 25%. I wondered at the time about the human cost, about what happened to people who started college and didn’t complete. Some, of course, came back somewhere later; many doubtless did fine anyway; but the human cost nevertheless must have been considerable.

The problem haunts us still. While the numbers of Americans starting college have soared, a 50% noncompletion rate still preoccupies us. It’s now not just an issue of human costs, to the individuals who must feel some sense of failure, but global competitiveness. Because we don’t have a terrific system of precollege education, and because we don’t track students as most countries do, our failure rate is unusually high, and it now translates into a lower percentage of actual college graduates than many other countries have.

We’re all aware of the issue, if only because of the drumbeat of retention rate concerns that has sounded now for a couple of decades. Many of us work, at least occasionally, to try to make sure that students get warnings about academic performance, have available advising, and have access as needed to some tutorial help. But we clearly can and should be doing more, for example in providing better support to students, and instructors, in classes with high failure rates — not to soften standards, but to work for greater student success. It is no credit to any of us when students don’t make it. Obviously, we’re hardly in full control of the relevant environment, and economic factors loom large currently. But recognition of an academic challenge is crucial, and in a way most academics are not easily positioned to respond since (one assumes) most of us did pretty well in school. There are systems issues here, but issues of effective individual teaching as well.

I was meeting earlier this week with the Academic Committee of the Student Senate, a very good group with not only some good questions (why don’t we offer even more foreign languages?) and suggestions. One student asked why, given courses in Administration of Justice and Public and International Affairs (and, he could have added, cybersecurity) don’t we have a minor in security studies. So I asked our Humanities and Social Sciences Dean, for I thought it was a good idea, only to be told that a full major is under development, mainly between his unit and the Volgenau School.

And this in turn prompted some further musing about Mason’s proclivity for advancing new academic programs. There’s no question that, for several years now, we’ve been putting forth more new programs than any other public institution in the state, which probably does not entirely endear us to State Council, for whom we make a lot of work, but which is otherwise interesting. Regularly, each fall, we check on our overall number of programs compared to peer institutions. With roughly 180 programs now, we’re still at the low end of any average (lots of variety, but 220-240 would be a representative figure), but unquestionably we’ve crept up a bit and continue to do so.

The reasons are several, and in my self-interested judgment not only valid but exciting. We’ve obviously pushed up the number of PhD programs, now about 33 in number which puts us in the mix of major research universities — which is what we’re becoming. Developments here reflect an increasingly active faculty and growing research strengths. But we also see a number of new Masters programs — forensics and real estate management would be two recent examples — that take advantage of new labor force needs in the region, as well as faculty strengths. And we’re seeing a surprising number of new undergraduate programs, like the security program currently in gestation, that have as most obvious characteristic a strongly interunit, interdisciplinary flavor.

The bottom line, of course, is an institution that continues to display great and varied energy that almost defies the funding constraints we also continue to face. Lots of work goes in not only to generating but to processing and implementing so many good ideas. And there’s always the danger that this level of dynamism and success will distract from the budget woes — if we can do all this with no money, just keep at it. But ultimately the creativity is not only exciting, but educationally productive, meshing varied faculty strengths, student interests and opportunities in the workplace, often, as already indicated, across the most conventional academic boundaries. One of the several reasons that, as the saying goes, Mason is the right place at the right time.

A few pleasant items to note, and since I have nothing to do with one of them and little with the other two I thought I could note without self-serving:

1. Yesterday several faculty, at one of my periodic teas, commented on how fine the University grounds look — not a new development, but even better recently with the landscaping around new buildings, the little rock gardens around some lampposts, etc. It is a real asset to the University and simply a pleasant part of the work environment. At a previous institution the then-president, who was a bit of a jerk, decided once to deteriorate the grounds, to induce more alumni giving out of sympathy for poverty; it didn’t work. Mason’s approach is much better.
2. We have a cheering uptick in private contributions, and useful ones. Last year we were one of only a few universities that moved giving up over the previous year, and this year the targets (and performance to date) are even higher. Always, of course, we would like still more — we’re hardly in the big leagues yet — and always we could wish that the targeting was even more closely aligned with our top needs. But we are doing better, and lots of talented folks are putting in productive effort.
3. Family weekend this past weekend was the largest ever. I was in on the first one, nine years ago, when we had 50 families listed and I think maybe 3 actually seemed to be present. Our staff clearly outnumbered them. This time we had some 300, even in bad weather. Equally important they were largely enthusiastic. And the event was well-organized. Another step forward.

I assume that by now anyone reading this blog and all the other stuff in circulation knows that public universities, including of course Mason, face a serious problem with state funding. I have no desire to detract from the attention we need to urge to the problem, and will doubtless return to the topic in future.

But today’s a bit different. I was at a session yesterday when an out-of-state student, noting how our state assistance has plunged in a decade from 65% of our operation budget to less than  29%, asked whether we saw any limit to the further depths. And he was told, correctly, that we’re not sure, along with the comforting old joke about how we have moved from being a state university, to state-aided, to (now) state-located (and some would add, state-impeded).

But there is a dimension we note too infrequently, and may seem needlessly ungrateful as a result. The state has stepped up significantly on its university building program during the decade — and we are four-and-a-bit academic buildings better off as a result. Here’s a huge assistance, and a huge reason that, fuss as we must, we cannot reasonably talk about splitting away from the state. Here’s a huge reason, as well, that tuition for out of state students, though of course higher than in-state in the familiar pattern, is noticeably below that of private institutions.

I do worry, I admit, that the state sometimes tries to buy us off with buildings rather than the more challenging necessary operating funds, so I’m not turning into a pollyanna. But fair’s fair: the state does a lot, and more has been pledged (for example, a vital new teaching lab building for science education). So, even though we must take stock of the gift horse’s hindquarters, when we deal with the state, we don’t need to look it in the mouth.

I’m recurrently impressed with the interest and commitment of so many Mason faculty to teaching and discussions of teaching improvements. Latest evidence is the standing room only crowd signed up for the teaching innovations day next week, sponsored by the Center for Teaching Excellence.

In this framework, I hope we can use some of the particular challenges of this year to sharpen our discussions of how best to handle different kinds of classes, particularly somewhat larger classes. This is not a ploy to persuade all faculty to accept the increased size, but to expand our use of a situation forced upon us to see what works and what does not, when we’re moved out of our previous comfort zone.

The most obvious plea is to recommend creativity in assessment mechanisms. Some faculty will be forced by class size to cut back writing assignments, and some may feel that they have no choice but to install multiple choice tests. I hope we can limit the latter recourse, at least as exclusive fare, and work on other kinds of exercises, including short writing assignments even in class, to limit the mechanical qualities that even good multiple choice exercises tend to impose.

I also hope — and here I freely admit I go beyond my own experience, into new aspiration spurred in part by good advice from a daughter-teacher — that more of us can use technology to improve opportunities for student participation even when class size proves somewhat intimidating. On-line discussions, questions to which students can respond by email, and various in-class exercises really provide many of the benefits of very small classes, and sometimes more, and not always with a great deal more work.

Always, efforts of these sorts — and many faculty will be way ahead of me in imaginative experience — need to be talked about, problems probed, best practices disseminated. That’s why I’m doubly glad to be in an academic culture where teaching issues loom large, where they’re taken as serious opportunities for discussion and learning.

The op-ed piece in last Sunday’s Washington Post, from two leaders of the University of California at Berkeley, was intriguing, for it revived some musings I’d pondered over the summer. The idea is that, given the huge and undeniable problems major state universities are facing in state-based funding, not just in the current crisis but over a longer term, we need a federal input at least for a few leading centers.

First reactions are probably obvious. The altruism of the Berkeley approach — let’s apply this to a few outstanding institutions — is obvious. My own reaction was to favor the idea so long as a major public university within twenty miles of the nation’s capital, and in a state not beginning with the letter M, was clearly designated from the outset. The battles over who would be included, and the resulting increase in disparities among public institutions, may doom the idea from the outset — and perhaps it should. I also worry about yet another easy call on the national purse, at a time when the federal ability to print new money is probably, no pun intended, being dramatically overtaxed. And always there would be concern about the regulatory string attached to any new federal intrusion — already the federal enthusiasm for imposing bureaucratic requirements seems to rise with each passing year.

But there are reasons to open up the topic. Federally-sponsored discussions of the funding issue are warranted. These could include adoption of selected universities. They could include fuller coverage of federally-funded research expenses, so there would be less indirect burden on tuition. They could include a clearer federal effort to free up state monies by imposing fewer unfunded mandates. They could include some direct support to states for higher education purposes, perhaps with direct access of qualified, lower income students to top institutions as a core component.

So, while I found the Berkeley effort rather nakedly self-serving (at about the same level as the idea being floated last summer, also from Berkeley, that the State of California should sell the UCLA campus to generate funds for other centers), the idea of encouraging some federal-level discussion is abundantly warranted. The public university system (granted, I can be self-serving too) is vital to the national interest in all sorts of respects, from sheer educational access to research to regional outreach to global competitiveness. Problems are accumulating that clearly burst beyond state boundaries. Let’s find a way to encourage some new conversations.

I was involved in a teapot tempest this past week, but it was my teapot so excuse a comment. While specifics are George Mason stuff, there might be a bit of wider interest.

The Challenge. A colleague and I were presenting about our budget, at a meeting called by the Faculty Senate. Not long before the meeting I learned that a Senator was preparing to show the gathering a comparison between last year’s phone book, under the Provost staff heading, with that of five years ago: the result showed a shocking increase of personnel, from 23 to 73. Fortunately I had a headsup about this document, or (since I do not keep up on comparative telephonery) I would probably have been publicly confused. While one can quibble about aspects of the tactics involved in all of this, it is true that faculty deserve some sense of personnel trends.

The Facts (first cut).  The research involved was rather limited, as things turned out.  Almost all of the increase cited resulted from moving under the Provost column a lot of offices that, in the previous directory, had been separately listed – Institutional Research; Assessment; Administrative VP; Research staff; an Enrollment office; Honors administration are cases in point. Had the research gone beyond the phone book it would also have picked up a large Safety component, previously listed separately but now in my column as well.

I have to confess that I take pride in being responsible about staff expansion, which is why these charges annoyed me more than usually, but a huge part of the explanation rests not on expansion at all, but on reclassification either in the phone book or in the budget listings under Provost. I might also note that between last year we have eliminated several provostial positions, including a Vice Presidency. And we know that, overall, administrative and nonacademic staff expenses have gone up less in the past decade (80%) than instructional expenses (99% increase).

The Facts (remainder). But there has been real growth in my staff as well. The accusing Senator claims that growth should be entirely proportionate to enrollment expansion, but it has probably exceeded that because my office also oversees research (far more expansion); aspects of facilities (far more expansion); number of academic programs (far more expansion); and opportunities for extramural earnings (some expansion, with hopefully more to come).

Real growth in my staff results from several factors:

1.    Decisions I make or share in. I have established a new position of Associate Provost for Graduate Education (this replaced a different previous position, but did require a new classified hire), which reflects huge program growth. I have established a global education position. I have established, at faculty request, a half time distance education position. While honors staff are not new (they used to be in the liberal arts college) the establishment of a separate Honors unit has occasioned expansion. I am prepared to defend all of these decisions, but they did occur.

2.    External world requirements. We’re gearing up for an accreditation visit (one new position) which now requires a new Quality plan (one new position); and state and federal assessment and reporting requirements have gone up, etc.

3.    Alternative funding. Two new positions report to me only on paper, for they’re funded by and responsible to the new Colonial Academic Alliance, the offices of which we house. Several new global positions reflect funding from a mix of grants, international enrollment growth and direct international funding.

4.    Interunit programs. Periodically centers are established that no single unit can handle, and they come into my office at least for a while. Currently three and a half new positions result (real estate and Smithsonian programs).

5.    Research personnel. Here’s the real gorilla, with 85 current staff compared to 25 listed in my office seven years ago. A lot of this is not real growth, but the reclassification of reporting lines or budget sources, but there has been genuine expansion particularly in the environmental health and safety category with our new biocontainment lab coming on line, new federal requirements, etc.

So: I think a reasonable set of conclusions would include: a need for care in researching administrative growth and a recognition that it has not overtaken University educational priorities; but also a realization that a variety of forces, not all of them easily controlled, do occasion expansion as part of larger dynamism. Current budget woes will slow this aspect of growth along with everything else, but we will continue to do a bit of hiring as we do in faculty ranks.  Both in present circumstances and more generally, faculty have a right to some sense of what’s going on, and I hope these comments move this process forward on a responsible footing.

It’s an interesting moment for public universities. On the one hand, budget cuts have forced some important economies. Some of them are surely undesirable, but others may prove less onerous than expected (we need a bit of time to figure out impact). Most obviously, some modest increases in average class size, sometimes abetted by the greater use of technology, have been a common response. Some results are surely harmful to learning, but others might conceivably be sustainable without damage to educational outcomes. At a time when states are understandably seeing some productivity gains in colleges, even aside from current budget circumstances, there might be some adjustments worth discussing for the future.

For their part, universities have some definite issues in planning for the future. Faculty salaries lag. In Virginia there have been no collective raises at all for two years, and even aside from this there are troubling gaps. A state that pledges faculty salaries at the 60th percentile of peer-group institutions sees many schools (including my own) now lagging below the 30th.

So why not a trade-off discussion: universities pledge to look into faculty student ratios more imaginatively, and the states (or at least my state) really promise to move salary scales up the priority level?

Of course no action is possible right now, given the economic downturn, but how about some markers for the future? The problem here is, again at least in my state, that there’s no one on the state side really prepared to talk about the future. We have a state council that requires planning for the future, we are required to turn in six-year capital plans, but the state itself resolutely shuns commitments. Budget cuts are thus permanent, with no promises to return to normal when things get better. Governors and their staffs are on the way out every four years. No one will promise anything serious, even contingent upon the admittedly undatable return to prosperity.

So the prospect is that an interesting moment will be lost, as universities return to business as usual as soon as possible because there is no sense, from the state side, that any longer term pledges can be undertaken. The result is a prospect of continued roller coaster oscillations, with no durable change in strategic thinking. It seems a shame, but without a clearer set of higher ed interlocutors on the public side, it’s not clear how to remedy.