To [Loughlin] it wasn't egregious behavior. Was it entitled and selfish? Perhaps. But she didn't see it as a legal violation. From the beginning she didn't want to take a deal, because she thought that she hadn't done anything that any mom wouldn't have done if she had the means to do so.
I had not even thought about writing about “Operation Varsity Blues,” the college admissions scandal, let alone lead with a quote from People magazine. Bribery, fraud, and cheating are pretty straightforward, even when they involve elite universities and the rich and famous. What is there to say?
But a fair number of folks, including in nonacademic settings, asked me what I thought. And many of them thought they knew what to say: “It's outrageous!” I tended to hear, “Isn't it delicious?”—scandals of the rich and famous with more than a little schadenfreude on the side. These are reasonable reactions, so I mostly just nodded and agreed.
Several thoughts occurred to me later about what I might have said. First, I might have pointed out that here's another instance of our excessive concern and fascination with elite institutions. Elite colleges and universities are a small and unrepresentative sample of colleges and universities, even though that's what most people seem to think of when the conversation turns to higher education. And the scandal involves a small and unrepresentative sample of their admissions profile and practices.
That leads to a second thought, that many of the really scandalous things in higher education are widespread, more or less baked in, and taken as normal. Perhaps I could (should?) have said, “Let me tell you what's really outrageous.”
The “Blues” scandal in part involved “side door” admissions via athletics, but scandals in college athletics involving payoffs and fraud are hardly uncommon. Then there's the fiction of amateurism that allows exploitation of athletes often going hand in hand with skirting admissions and academic requirements. And finally, how is it that the mission of U.S. higher education now involves being part of the sports entertainment industry—so much so that coaches are sometimes the highest paid employees at an institution?
Similarly, and perhaps more important, the scandal involved already privileged people seeking even greater advantages through illegitimate and perhaps illegal means. If they had succeeded that would be unfair and inequitable to those who played by the rules and/or lacked the money and contacts to cheat.
But the inequity and unfairness involved in that scenario pales in comparison to the everyday inequities of our educational system. All through our K–16 system, those with the least get the least. The financial support and opportunities provided in wealthy (largely segregated) public districts and private schools far outstrips poorer districts. This continues throughout the postsecondary system. For example, expenditures per student for community colleges have been largely stagnant while those in elite privates and flagship publics has risen substantially.
A broader, third point suggests a reason why these inequities are largely accepted as normal or, at least for those less accepting of them, as nearly impossible to change. In an underappreciated book, Justice, Equal Opportunity, and the Family, James Fishkin suggests that in our society these three concepts form a “trilemma”; satisfying demands for two of them preclude satisfying the other.
The most obvious example of the trilemma concerns the relationship of the family and equal opportunity. For all of its egalitarian overtones, “equal opportunity” is the opportunity to be unequal, to obtain more wealth, status, and so on, through, in part, educational credentials. The sanctity of the family and its legitimate support of its offspring with (unequal) resources combined with “equal opportunity,” which is hardly equal, limits justice. The “Blues” scandal is an obvious example of a potentially illegitimate use of family resources, but the notion that this is what “any mom wouldn't have done if she had the means to do so” is a good example of the trilemma.
I do not pretend to have an answer to the trilemma. I would note that attempts to strengthen a commitment to justice are routinely resisted in the name of equal opportunity. For example, affirmative action is criticized as unfair, giving some unfair advantage based on an arbitrary characteristic of birth—as opposed to the advantages of who your parents were and what resources they had (arbitrary characteristic?). That, I might have said, is what's outrageous, scandalous.
Some of the articles in this edition speak to these issues more or less directly while also responding to “outrageous” situations or conditions we take for granted or find too difficult to change. They and others remind us of some the resources we might have to deal with these issues, even as some of these resources may be diminishing.
One of the cover articles, by Jason Stephens, directly addresses the “epidemic” of academic dishonesty, far wider than the “Blues” scandal. Stephens notes, “When asked if they've cheated in the past year … the majority of secondary and tertiary students in the United States (and in every other country in which it's been studied) report having done so.” Stephens argues that while this is “natural” and “normal” behavior, deeply rooted in evolution and human development, it is also “unethical” and “evitable.” It can, he argues, be reduced by creating “cultures of integrity” through a variety of “nudges,” “designing environments (‘choice architecture’) that ‘nudge’ people to make better (i.e., safer, healthier, more ethical, etc.) choices.” These range from highly visible efforts to encourage academic honesty, including explicit endorsement of honor codes (“opt in” as a default) to firm “developmental sanctions in response to cheating.” In a culture of integrity, values such as academic honesty are “fundamental … not only highly salient and widely understood, but also deeply valued and broadly respected.”
Two of the articles in this edition address financial issues facing higher education, and both point out some of the painful challenges and inequities we face. The cover article by David Longanecker, Colleen Falkenstern, and Demarée Michelau reprises Longanecker's 2006 Change article, A Tale of Two Pities. Both articles describe the mutual complaints and misunderstandings between higher education leaders of public institutions, on the one hand, and state and federal policymakers, particularly the former, on the other. There have been changes in much of the data on financing higher education, but the dynamic of the debate remains the same. Higher education leaders decry things like continuous state disinvestment and Pell grants that, though increasing, “cover a decreasing share of overall costs.” On their side, policymakers note that absolute levels of support have been relatively stable through two recessions and criticize higher education as “an enterprise that seems convinced that more is better and never enough.”
To me, there are many “pities” in the data—some shifts in financial aid benefit the wealthiest students in order to support budgets, including financial aid to needy students—the latter in turn face rising loan debt to meet rising tuitions. Sharp differences in finances between and among states create other inequities based on where one lives. In any case, Longaneckaer and his colleagues suggest that both sides have reasonable arguments and need to muster the political will to work together more constructively.
The Playing the Numbers feature by Brian Prescott looks at the specific challenges to “public institutions in rural settings.” “While colleges and universities in many parts of the United States are facing difficulties brought on by unfavorable fiscal and demographic conditions, those located in rural communities face some of the most vexing challenges.” These include population and enrollment declines that are projected to continue; lower return on the degrees for these students; state disinvestment (again) that is less likely to be made up by tuition increases; and increased dependency on state appropriations as time passes. Worse, these institutions are often a major economic driver in their regions, which would suffer if they decline or close. There are few good choices, even as “to continue operating according to business as usual in an unfavorable climate that may be worsening is equally problematic.” There is an urgent need, Prescott argues, to address this dilemma “to determine how these institutions can continue to serve their important roles.”
Three articles discuss the key nonfinancial resource, the faculty, in meeting any challenges to higher education. The piece by Penny MacCormack, Kevin P. Reilly, and David G. Brailow describes a consortial initiative of the Council of Independent Colleges (CIC) and the Association of College and University Educators (ACUE). ACUE has developed a program of faculty development that “prepares, credentials, and provides ongoing support to faculty members in using the evidence-based teaching practices that drive student engagement, retention, and learning.” The project with CIC specifically emphasizes a “credential with [a] concentration in career guidance and readiness.” The training includes how to develop general skills relevant to the workplace (e.g., teamwork), embedding specific career concerns and discussions into courses, and working with career centers and alumni. At this point, “More than 500 faculty members at 26 institutions are learning evidence-based teaching practices to embed career guidance and skill development into their courses,” with the expectation that it will be expanded to more CIC institutions and beyond.
The article by Brian Norman addresses a different aspect of faculty work, governance. He reports on interviews with faculty members at institutions named as “exemplars through a national faculty satisfaction survey by the Collaborative on Academic Careers in Higher Education (COACHE).” He asks, “What makes for a healthy culture of faculty leadership?” Although there is no formula, he finds several common features. “[T]he exemplars profiled for this study create open pathways and numerous opportunities for faculty to participate meaningfully in the civic life of their institutions.” This is supported by senior leaders “who take faculty roles in institutional governance seriously and—beyond the platitudes—take action, not cover, when the community feels that governance is falling short.” Norman also suggests five “indicators of success and follow-up questions that senior leaders and faculty themselves should be asking to improve the vitality of faculty leadership and sustainability of governance on their campuses.”
As positive as these two articles about faculty are, the book review by Mary Huber reminds us that “the faculty” roles as we knew it, such as those working with ACUE and COACHE, is changing. Huber reviews two books about “[t]he movement to improve working conditions for contingent faculty,” which “continues to build steam as the number of instructors in these part-time non-tenure-track positions continues to grow.” Daniel Davis's Contingent Academic Labor offers an instrument for evaluating the condition of contingent faculty in colleges and universities, “measures of material, professional, and social equity to arrive at a campus's ‘contingent labor conditions score.’” The second book, Professors in the Gig Economy: Unionizing Adjunct Faculty in America, edited by Kim Tolley, provides both general analyses and case studies of unions' efforts. This book, and Huber's review, see some optimistic trends in getting past the “unfortunate binary of full-time tenure-track and part-time contingent instructors,” but these movements, and the role of unions in them, have a long way to go before we see equity in faculty roles. The stakes are high both for contingent faculty and, equally or more important, for students.
Two features articles round out the issue with specific stories of dealing with difficult and even tragic situations. The Teachable Moments piece by Laura L. Vernon, Elizabeth Lanzon, and Kevin Lanning offers personal reflections of two faculty members and a student at Wilkes Honors College in Florida to the February 14, 2018 shootings at Marjory Stoneman Douglas (MSD) High School in Parkland, Florida. The faculty members, Vernon and Lanning, recount how “faculty and staff reached out directly to support our MSD alumni psychologically, socially, and academically and for many of us, our classroom activities shifted to apply our disciplinary lenses to topics related to the shooting.” They offer impressive accounts of how to integrate such events into instruction. The student, Lanzon, an alumna of MSD, describes the support and guidance she received from the Wilkes community: “Although it is impossible for anyone to understand what I went through unless they were connected to the MSD community, I am forever thankful for the support from everyone on campus.” Their reflections, aptly titled “Beyond Teachable Moments,” are a positive response to a horrifying tragedy. As Vernon, a psychologist, puts it, “Tragedy can be powerful and baffling, as we struggle together to make sense of the senseless.”
Finally, a Perspectives piece by Mays Imad, a professor of Genetics, Pathophysiology, and Biomedical Ethics in the Department of Life and Physical Science at Pima Community College, describes the twin challenges she has faced as a Muslim academic wrestling with her identity and as a scientist who, as a former philosophy major, champions the liberal arts. In interweaving these stories, she notes the importance of not being trapped by assumptions, hers or others. Much of the piece is devoted to championing the liberal arts in the community college setting. “As educators and administrators, we should not assume we know what students want lest we overlook or outright fail to understand what they really yearn for (i.e., something beyond just ‘getting a job’).” Her article is also her own story about how philosophy and religion ironically brought her back to science. Taken together, the two stories, she concludes, show that, “Only by seeing beyond our own desires and assumptions and listening to the individual voices of our students can we truly understand what they need and desire.”
Getting back to “outrageous,” there's a lot in these articles that points to outrageous things about higher education—epidemic cheating, inconsistent and inequitable funding, the “binary” system of faculty employment, and the pressures and prejudices of the larger society. These go well beyond the scandals of the rich and famous. At the same time, there is much here about how we might do better in what we do to respond to these issues, from the broad questions of finance and governance to the very personal responses to tragedy and bias.