A Maddening Morass—Part 3

No Escape

After obtaining my economics PhD, I taught at Yale for 7 years, the University of Houston and Rice simultaneously for 3 years, and Pomona College for 44 years. Early in my career, I taught classes, did research, and had almost no contact with administrators. It was what I had hoped for when I chose to become a professor.

In retrospect, I now realize that, historically, the top administrators at most schools came from the faculty. For example, Bill Brainard, my friend and Yale colleague, was chair of the economics department before becoming Yale’s provost for five years and then returning to the faculty. This rotating model has several advantages. The top administrators already know the college well, are responsive to faculty needs, and are less likely to be autocratic (knowing that they have a limited term and what goes round comes round). Yale—and other top schools—still select many of their top academic administrators from their faculty. Indeed, Williams College, arguably the top liberal arts college in the country, mandates that the Provost, Dean of the Faculty, and Dean of the College (the “super dean of students”) all be rotating positions filled by tenured Williams faculty.

However, most administrative jobs at most colleges and universities have now been taken over by a professional managerial class, people with little or no teaching experience who spend their days building their resumes so that they can climb the administrative ladder. The conventional way to build a resume is to build an administrative empire—the more bloat, the better: “I supervise a staff of XYZ with a budget of ZYX millions.”

When I came to Pomona College in 1981 there were 1,443 students, 174 tenured and tenure-track faculty, and 39 administrators (deans, associate deans, assistant deans and the like, not counting clerical staff, gardeners, dining-hall workers, and so on). In 2026, there were 1,730 students, 175 tenured and tenure-track faculty, and 358 administrators.