The Pursuit of Presidents

No task in academe is quite so tough or ticklish as picking a college president; never before in U.S. history have so many schools been engaged in the struggle to find one. According to a survey by the American Council on Education issued last week, at least 300 U.S. institutions--ranging from giant state universities to dozens of tiny junior colleges--are in the market for a new top man. Most of them are ruefully discovering that U.C.L.A. Chancellor Franklin Murphy is right when he claims that "attracting high-quality academic administrators is the biggest problem in American universities today."

The basic trouble, explains one college-president hunter, is that "we're trying to find a $100,000-a-year man for $25,000 or $30,000." More than anybody else on campus, the president is expected to be all things to all men--fund raiser, politician, scholar, pressagent, long-range planner, public speaker, banqueteer with a cast-iron digestion. Another problem is that few schools like the idea of a built-in successor. If an outgoing president tries to groom an up-and-coming administrator as a potential heir apparent, says Stanford Graduate Business Dean Ernest Arbuckle, "that can be the kiss of death." Many otherwise qualified professors consider an administrative job as "going over to the enemy"--and claim that they can make more money staying where they are. Because they generally lack the right scholarly credentials, corporation executives are usually shunned by powerful faculty committees.

Holy Hell. As a result, a college's pursuit of a new president frequently becomes a panicky, yearlong canvass for the right man that involves trustees, alumni, administrators, professors and even students, who are increasingly being invited to submit recommendations.

"The labor pains of the search," says Columbia Administrator Clifford Nelson, "are just holy hell."

Committees charged with president hunting usually aim high, often try for a nationally prominent figure without any notion of whether he would be interested. HEW Secretary John Gardner, who has shown no inclination to leave Government service, is at the top of nearly everybody's list. As sights are lowered plenty of names surface, since almost every professor or alumnus has his own idea of who might fill the bill. Johns Hopkins scanned 150 candidates before deciding nearly two years later on the State Department's Lincoln Gordon.

The University of Michigan winnowed through a list of 200 candidates before choosing Wisconsin's Chancellor Robben Fleming as its new president (TIME, April 7). Last week Haverford College finally settled on Ford Foundation Executive John R. Coleman--after a search that lasted 19 months, involved 125 candidates.

Religious but Not Political. Among institutions currently seeking presidents are the state universities of California, Minnesota, Oklahoma, Georgia, Mississippi, Florida and Rhode Island, plus such major private schools as Stanford, Barnard, Mills, and Hamilton. Many schools begin by drawing up a list of criteria that are all but impossible to fulfill. Mrs. Edward H. Heller, a California regent involved in the search for a successor to Clark Kerr, calls the committee's initial outline of conditions "our walking-on-water papers." Minnesota, for example, is looking for a man under 55 so that he can serve at least ten years before compulsory retirement. He must be religious "but not domineering about it," says one regent. He "can't be political," which rules out such possibilities as Minnesota Senator Eugene McCarthy and Minneapolis Mayor Arthur Naftalin.

At some colleges the difficulty of finding a president is compounded by special conditions that must be resolved.

Many church-related schools require that the president be a member of the denomination with which the college is affiliated. Barnard College, the women's branch of Columbia, has been hard put to locate a successor to departing President Rosemary Park. The trustees found four women they considered ideal, but Barnard could not guarantee that their husbands would find satisfactory positions if they moved to New York. All four turned the presidency down.

Once a selection committee focuses on the handful of men it considers suitable and available, all parties concerned begin an intricate academic minuet with its own steps and rules. The trustees almost never offer the job until they are reasonably sure the man wants it, and the candidate must never appear eager. "It's a little bit like an Oriental mar riage--no one is interested until he's asked," says Iowa Regents Chairman Stanley F. Redeker, who went through the ordeal of finding new presidents for both Iowa and Iowa State universities.

Well-Wishers. A prospective president is frequently invited to deliver a lecture at the school that wants him, or is asked to a dinner by a few trustees to discuss his "philosophy of education." If a job is referred to at all, the candidate is expected to reply to the effect that he likes it where he is, but has a high regard for the seeking school and wishes it well. "That is enough to signal that he is really interested," says Stanford's University Relations Director Lyle Nelson.

Secrecy is an essential ingredient to all negotiations, and the premature discovery of offers can prove embarrassing. Minnesota, for example, has spent eleven months unsuccessfully seeking a successor to resigning O. Meredith Wilson. State regents were deeply annoyed when word leaked out recently that the job had been offered to former Presidential Economics Adviser Walter Heller, a professor at the university, and to Wisconsin's Fleming. But Fleming went to Michigan, Heller prefers to teach and consult, and now, complains Regent Chairman Charles Mayo, "we'll have to start all over again."

No wonder that many university officials have begun to ask themselves which is harder--being a president or finding one.

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