Humanities Express

From the Dean

I am often asked if I enjoy being dean. My customary response is simply to say, "most days" or "most of the time on any given day." This way of responding to a seemingly simple question acknowledges the inadequacy of a "yes" or "no" answer to characterize the complexities involved in performing this role. My response, however, is not as non-committal as it may seem; for I do enjoy my job "most days" and "most of the time on any given day." Being dean, of course, is not much different from being an administrator at any level of university leadership. Even though administration can be both exhilarating and frustrating-frequently at the same time since it often involves multi-tasking-any administrative position at Ohio State is ultimately rewarding. The greatest reward is being in a position to do work that contributes to the daily operation, programmatic direction, intellectual mission, and reputation of one of the best public universities in the nation. However, there are other rewards such as having the privilege of working with some of the brightest and most articulate people in the country every day. And, of course, there are frustrations such as having the privilege of working with some of the brightest and most articulate people in the country every day.

In offering a seemingly contradictory perspective, I am not attempting to create a paradox or to engage in some form of academic double-speak. The simple truth is that, as an administrator, one becomes accustomed to daily confrontations with contradictions, mixed-signals, and unexpected twists on the common, ordinary, and everyday. For instance, I am always impressed and a little pleased with how readily my very smart colleagues respond with appropriate expressions of gratitude or praise for certain of my administrative actions or decisions, even though they are almost invariably the ones with which they agree or from which they benefit. Since, as an administrator, one of my goals is to try and make decisions beneficial to the college, its faculty, and students, I can only hope that most of my decisions meet with a positive reaction. For this reason, I am always a bit disappointed when my very smart colleagues fail to appreciate the benefits that will result from one of my decisions or actions, and chagrined when they respond with vituperative accusations of inanity, boneheaded stupidity, blindness, or plain old incompetence.

These opposing reactions result most often from my having to utter the monosyllabics, "yes" or "no" to someone's request for personal privilege or, more likely, funding for a project, program, or department. In the view of my very smart colleagues, positive responses to such requests reveal not only my astuteness and grasp of my responsibilities, but also my competence as an administrator. To these same colleagues, a negative response simply betrays my inability to understand the profound implications of my decisions for sustaining the quality of teaching and research, the needs of a field of study, or the value of a department. In this instance, no body of statistical evidence that I can muster in support of my decision, nor any argument that I can mount about competing interests or college or institutional priorities are likely to alter their view of my incompetence as a leader, for numbers become irrelevant and arguments that others have a greater or more compelling need for the college's scant resources simply fall on deaf ears.

The reality of academic administration is far less dramatic than this brief sketch portrays it in that the rewards far outweigh the frustrations. Even the frustrations that accompany less than pleasant reactions to some decisions are neither bad nor unproductive in themselves. In fact, they can be rewarding and productive. If taken properly, they can lead to necessary dialogue about values, priorities, and directions. The opportunity to engage in such exchanges is one of the reasons that I enjoy my job "most days" and "most of the time on any given day."

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