Original Article: http://dartreview.com/archives/2003/05/12/behind_closed_doors.php
Monday, May 12, 2003
On November 12, 2002, Sara Rimer, veteran Dartmouth correspondent for the New York Times, penned a front-page article on the College's efforts to promote diversity. Her exposé boasted that 'a growing number of institutions, including Dartmouth, are trying to make [the diversity] connection happen and are spending millions of dollars on the effort.' She further elaborated upon specific programs brought to campus: 'Dartmouth is offering diversity training to any student or faculty member, and many are taking part. It is mandatory for all nonfaculty staff members, from administrators to groundskeepers.'
Within a mere two weeks of this article, Dartmouth announced that the Swim Team no longer had sufficient funding, and thus was being axed. Simultaneously, plans for drastic budget cuts across the board and substantial cut-backs in the library system were also released, albeit with little fanfare. These decisions were, as we've all come to expect, made with no input from students or faculty.
On page six and seven of this issue, Daniel Balserak tries to understand what happened to the hundreds of millions of dollars added to the endowment in 1998 and 1999. His efforts to understand a budget 'glitch' to which President James Wright alluded in a faculty meeting were met at every turn with the run-around. But what is more telling is that President Wright, Dean of the College James Larimore, and Provost Berry Scherr reacted in the same manner when confronted by Hoyt Alverson, a tenured anthropology professor. Prof. Alverson asked a simple question: what is the total increase in spending under the Dean of College umbrella since the inception of the Student Life Initiative?
In emails Mr. Balserak provides between Prof. Alverson and these top College administrators, it is painfully clear that those running the show will go to any lengths to avoid giving details. They simply pass the buck to someone else, who passes it to someone else ad infinitum.
The decision to conceal the extent of spending in certain sections of the budget is odd. After all, the College touted its diversity bucks in the New York Times, but it wouldn't be seen in such a positive light if it turned out that other programs had been excised to continue funding the diversity training (mandatory, if you're a Greek) that continues unabated. Beyond concealing, though, the College has long prevented any input on budget decisions from the faculty, even in matters directly affecting professors.
This past Monday, Provost of the College Barry Scherr held an open meeting with the faculty of Arts and Science, offering a tentative preview of Fiscal Year 2004 and 2005. After many faculty complaints, it seemed perhaps the Administration would allow some suggestion, and maybe even open their books to the public. Not so.
After a drab presentation glossing over causes of the current dilemma, Provost Scherr opened the floor to questions. Outraged faculty berated the Provost on particulars, specifically the endless well of money from which the College drew in the last few years—versus the extreme measures taken to curtail spending in the last six months. Provost Scherr 'fessed up to increased spending, saying that '[he] did start a number of new items going forward' in the last few years, but he quickly spun this, claiming the increased money went to a variety of programs. Provost Scherr's remarks were equally deft throughout.
As the presentation dragged along, it became apparent last year's budget shortfall is just the tip of the iceberg. Reconciliation of the next fiscal year requires an additional cut of $1.5 million...in the next week...after $6 million has already been slashed. The prospects for Fiscal Year 2005 are even grimmer; an estimated $9 million will be struck. Of course, no one had been informed, and no one had been asked what should be trimmed next.
When Prof. Alverson asked the Provost to elaborate on specific expenditures in the Student Life area—aiming to finally get the numbers he has so long been denied—Provost Scherr literally stuttered for the entirety of his response, rambling that the money 'includes a lot of other categories' besides the Student Life Initiative.
Prof. Alverson's assertion that staff positions in this area had doubled in the last few years was not addressed. He also bitterly remarked that the budgets displayed were irrelevant, because Provost Scherr conveniently neglected to show comparisons. Same smokescreen, different venue.
Finally one professor captured the faculty sentiment by exclaiming, 'We [the school] are too fat, and we need to go on a crash diet.' Provost Scherr nodded his head, tacitly acknowledging the sad state of affairs that results from a binging glutton—or a college on the diversity warpath. When the same professor attacked the College's choice to exclude faculty from discussions on budget priorities—diversity training over libraries, minority deans over faculty—Provost Scherr was met by a response he had not heard during the rest of the meeting: applause. Raucous, protracted, merry applause.
But it's no matter, really. The faculty have been ignored for some time; every once in a while they force Parkhurst to accede to a demand or two, but rarely on issues of great importance. On strategic visions like the Student Life Initiative or consolidating the libraries, they're left in the dark like the rest of us, up until the day the changes take effect. Otherwise, someone in the Administration might actually be held accountable for their actions.
It's the same with the effusive ranting that no one has been fired. On page 7, Katherine Racicot discusses the College's rhetoric—but she found something different. Staff certainly has been fired (or rearranged, to use Dartmouth's parlance), and they've even been forced to sign confidentiality agreements, with their severance packages as collateral. That's a pretty disgusting thought: sign this and agree not to badmouth Dartmouth, or we won't give you and your family insurance coverage. It sounds like something from a movie, not a bastion of higher education.
In a society where financial transparency has become the norm, not the exception, Dartmouth stands in stark contrast to all its brethren institutions. There can be only one answer: the College has something to hide, and it's doing everything in its power to conceal it. But I'm willing to bet the groundskeepers learned a bit about the secret during their mandatory diversity training.