If a single insight
could sum up the case for strategic planning in higher education, it would be
the Stoic philosopher Seneca’s observation that, if you don’t know which port
you’re sailing to, "no wind is favorable."
Yet all of that time
you spend leading a strategic-planning process for a department, college, or
institution will prove fruitless if the plan doesn’t identify:
·
Realistic objectives
that can be accomplished within a set period of time.
·
Arguments, values, and
rationales behind those objectives.
·
Metrics to mark their
success or progress.
·
Resources (money,
people, materials, facilities) to reach and sustain the objectives.
Seems pretty
straightforward. But of course, many less certain variables — political,
cultural, psychological, bureaucratic — can assist or impede a strategic plan.Resist the urge to micromanage. Usually someone at the campus level (often the provost) is tasked with being the "political" leader of strategic planning, while someone else (typically a vice provost) oversees the workflow. In that scenario, the buck should stop with the provost. However, the administrator running the day-to-day planning process must be allowed to do the work with minimal interference from above.
In addition,
throughout the planning process, the workflow administrator should have almost
nothing else on his or her plate but strategic planning. It’s not a
project that should be tacked on to the vice provost’s 100 other
responsibilities.
Make sure the
strategic planners are trusted on the campus. Perception matters. I have
witnessed and heard of many failed strategic plans that were fatally wounded
even before birth. The cause of death: a widespread impression that it was a
top-down plan devised by a few high-level administrators with little or no
input from anyone else, particularly from regular faculty members.
On the other hand,
some plans have collapsed under their own bureaucratic weight because they were
overwhelmed by too many committees, took too long to write up, and tried to
please everyone.
Obviously, the devil
is in the details of trying to navigate between Scylla and Charybdis. During
the actual planning process, you want to make sure that the various committee
leaders feel empowered, supported, and encouraged to balance democracy and
efficiency.
Plan around your
highest priorities. A strategic plan is never a blank slate. At any college or
university, there are already fundamental priorities and pressing exigencies
that would be disastrous or pointless for a plan to ignore or downgrade.
Let me take a typical
example now facing perhaps hundreds of institutions. Say you’re a leader at a
small liberal-arts college with a modest endowment and an operating budget
based largely on tuition revenue. Enrollment has been sinking or barely staying
level. Your costs, especially for maintenance and faculty retention, are
rising. You are locked into a problematic cycle of charging high tuition but
then deeply discounting it so your students can afford to attend. Parents and
potential students are comparison shopping more than ever. And so on.
Your strategic plan
has to engage those big-picture issues head on. If you don’t fix the
hemorrhages, find cures, and chart new pathways, nothing else you achieve will
matter. Because you likely will be out of business.
It’s in such
situations where strong committee leadership is vital. Someone has to keep
steering the committees back — no matter the topic (curriculum, for instance) —
to those big-picture issues. The committee leaders must keep asking: "How
do these proposed changes help us solve our fundamental problems and deal with
our very-top priorities, or not?
Err on the side of
specificity. Make sure the strategic planners are given firm, specific
parameters — meaning: deadlines, word-count limits, desired number of recommendations
and priorities.
As every architect
knows, freedom and structure are not contradictions. Likewise, strategic
planning should be an exercise in free thought and creativity, within
boundaries. It doesn’t help anyone if the planners wander about like Seneca’s
lost ship without a destination and a date on which they’ll reach port.
Perhaps most
important, a strategic plan — to be at all achievable — must have a limited
number of priorities and prescribed actions. They can vary wildly, depending on
the size of the unit and the breadth of its mission. But there must be a
ceiling on the number of ideas put forth. A plan with a bloated to-do list is
doomed to failure.
Can you really afford
what you’re proposing? You’ve probably seen the famous New Yorker cartoon
that shows a scientist facing a blackboard full of mathematical
equations, and in the middle it reads: "THEN A MIRACLE OCCURS." A similar,
overly optimistic delusion fails many a strategic plan: "We will renovate
and modernize the library and pay for it out of increased enrollment
revenue." Great. So, what’s your plan for increasing enrollment revenue?
And what happens if that miracle does not occur?
Ideally every goal in
the plan should include an itemization of the resources required to make it
happen.
Strategic planning can
be an exercise in proverbially thinking outside the box, discussing dreams and
hopes as well as hard choices and stark realities. But you should never plan to
do something that you cannot possibly pull off. Committees need to make sure
that their goals are plausible. They should include the "how" of each
proposal: How will it be paid for? Who will staff it? What other tangibles
(facilities, for example) will be needed?
Resolve the
contradictions in the final version. Ideally the planning committees will
coordinate their work with one another. That’s much easier to achieve in a
strategic plan for a department versus a document for the entire university.
Inevitably there will
be some discordance, disjuncture, contradictions. A typical one revolves
around "allocation of effort" — meaning how much of people’s time it
will take to achieve the various goals. We keep loading unfunded mandates and
extra duties onto everyone — staff members, professors, administrators — and
magically hoping that both the new and the old expectations will be met. So get
real about it.
Let’s say your
strategic plan calls for faculty members to engage in more "public
scholarship" and "community interaction" — common national
trends. Those are very laudable, truly altruistic goals but you have just added
a new expectation to the faculty allocation of effort. And that raises a host
of questions:
·
Does a new priority —
in this case, public engagement — fall under research, teaching, or service? Or
is it now, in practical terms, a fourth area of promotion-and-tenure and
post-tenure criteria?
·
Will you be reducing
their work expectations in any of the other categories to accommodate the new
one?
·
What support,
financial or spatial, will you be providing to uphold this lofty goal?
·
Will all faculty
members be encouraged to meet the same standard, or can they trade out some of
their work commitments in research and teaching to add some in public
engagement?
There is no simple
algorithm or formula, but that’s the point. If you are going to add something
to the campus or to an individual’s portfolio, you have to decide whether it’s
just feel-good marketing or you actually anticipate a practical, sustainable
outcome.
Plenty of strategic
plans are simply exercises in public diplomacy. In other words, no one really
expects to achieve all of the goals but everybody feels like they were part of
the process. In such cases, exclusivity is more important than outcomes. As a
leader you may determine that that’s the right way to go for your particular
department or university. But you’re missing out on a valuable opportunity to
create goals that your people can get excited about and actually want to
achieve.
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