Deans: How To Avoid Sinking Your Ship

If people see you as acting rationally and strategically, your life will be much easier as dean.

Devil Angel AttorneyRecent events compel me to update my column about how deans can totally assure that they will have a disastrous term.  It doesn’t take much for a dean to create controversy, even when none may be warranted, depending on the history of the school and the history of those who once held that esteemed position at that school.

It’s easy to talk about the absolutely mean, contemptuous, evil souls who run around the dean market.  But what about those who are trying hard to make a difference and still come out scathed?  What did they do wrong?  Deans, if you are in this boat, here’s what you did wrong.

You didn’t listen.  A dean’s ability to avoid catastrophe is in large part due to the dean’s ability to listen and know what’s going on at the law school.   For example, say you have a problem child in one of your departments, and everyone knows that but you.  Let’s suppose this person is friends with your most trusted advisor, so you never get to hear about it.  You’ve got a serious problem.  Especially when you promote him or her and you’re left wondering why half your department staff quit.  Why is everyone so mad at you?  Because you didn’t listen.  The reason you couldn’t listen is because you didn’t ask the right people.   People need to feel as though they are being heard, even if you do decide in a way they didn’t want.

You built an atmosphere in which people are afraid to tell you the truth.  Ask yourself, do you listen?  Of course you do, say your closest confidants.  They all agree with you.  No problem, right?  HUGE PROBLEM, dean.  You have been surrounded by “yes staff,” who aren’t necessarily giving you all the information you need to make a decision.  How on earth did that happen?  It might be that the staff senses, for better or worse, that you don’t listen.  Perhaps you dismiss their concerns too easily, without much thought.  Regardless, you’re on your way to a complete and total disaster, one that could have been avoided by surrounding yourself with a group of people with sufficiently diverse opinions you’re willing to hear.

You didn’t communicate.  It is important to lead, but if people don’t understand your decisions then it will cost you in all the trust you’ve been carefully cultivating.  People like to know you are acting for a reason, not lashing out in the way a crazy dean would.  The thing that distinguishes you from a crazy dean is your ability to explain your reasons for doing something that scares people.  Here, timing and words matter.  For example, say you legitimately want some new blood managing the law review.  It is probably bad timing to put that new blood in place after you have felt slighted by someone on the law review.  It just looks bad.  On the other hand, if you had communicated that sentiment well before the real or perceived microaggression, then no one is offended.

You didn’t take the high road.  A professor might be vindictive, cantankerous, obnoxious, or otherwise socially inept.  You know, tenured.  But if you’re a dean, you have to take the high road all the time.  Your actions are the actions of the school.  You are under a microscope.  Your every move will be scrutinized, examined, and potentially criticized.  Think of yourself as the Chair of the Fed and your constituents as the market.  Thus, if you publicly throw someone under a bus, you’re likely to feel some backlash, even if you only said it to one person (who then told everyone).  If you publish it, it is forever there.  You can’t take it back.  Ever.

Worse, people like to draw the foul sometimes.   As I’ve said before, people sometimes seek drama.  It’s important for your own sanity that you don’t give into them.  This is especially true if you know you’re thin-skinned or have a temper.  As an example, I once had a colleague who liked to belittle people publicly.  While he could dish it out, he couldn’t take it.  Matching that behavior would only increase the drama.  Take the high road.

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You became Captain Ahab.   Captain Ahab pretty much killed everyone aboard the Pequod, except for Ishmael floating around on Queequeg’s coffin.  To his credit, Ahab at first gets everyone on board with his plan.  But the plan is terrible, and ends up killing everyone.  It’s easy to get sheeple to go along with a plan, no matter how bad.  It’s another thing to have the destruction of something on your head.  It will kind of ruin your chances of being dean anywhere else.

I point this out because it is possible for a good dean to lose sight of the purpose of their job, and instead seek their own personal fame, fortune, or vengeance.  The result?  The whole law school sinks because of it.  This is partly your fault, in that you didn’t take the high road and did not listen to trusted advisors (Starbuck).  It is in part the fault of the crew (the faculty), not taking a stand against such abuse.  In the end, it is the students that suffer.

Regardless, people should know what your plan is, and how your actions fit into that plan.  If people see you as acting rationally and strategically, your life will be much easier as dean.

You’re welcome, deans.


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LawProfBlawg is an anonymous professor at a top 100 law school. You can see more of his musings here and on Twitter. Email him at lawprofblawg@gmail.com.