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OR/MS Today - December 2002 ORacle A Modest Proposal By Douglas A. Samuelson There were smiles around the long, massive conference table in the walnut-panelled, thick-carpeted conference room. The dean's advisory committee had finished their meeting eager to pursue a new fund-raising effort, recruit more industry partners for the university's graduate programs, and attract more high-quality students to be undergraduates. The only problem they weren't confident about was getting faculty more involved in what they agreed should be done. "It's really too bad about the tenure system," Dr. Oyama, a senior high-tech executive, sympathized. "I can see why you can't get them to do anything. I don't know how much we could get people to do in industry, either, if they had that kind of job security." The dean smiled and nodded, as did several of the other industry people. Most of them had heard this sort of conversation before many times, in many places. The two faculty members who also belonged to the council rolled their eyes, but said nothing. They, too, had heard all this before. To their surprise, one of the newer members of the group, an independent consultant who was also a part-time faculty member, said softly, "Actually, that's wrong. Tenure has nothing to do with it." "What do you mean?" Dr. Oyama asked. "Did you ever see the movie 'White Men Can't Jump,' where the black guy keeps saying to his white friend, 'I've got four words for you' and then some crushing comment?" the consultant asked. "Well, I've got six words for you: the principal investigator owns the grant." The two faculty members tried to suppress knowing smiles as the industry people looked bewildered. "Suppose someone let's call him Charlie has several years' worth of outside funding at some company, like one of yours," the consultant explained. "That supports a few other people and pays for a nice lab. Now, what if Charlie wants to leave? The lab stays behind, doesn't it? "And so do the people and the money. Depending on the company's contracts with Charlie, he may not even be able to take his notes," the consultant continued. "In some cases, the company can even limit his ability to keep working on his own idea after he leaves. Right?" The industry people nodded in agreement. "That's the way it usually works," Dr. Oyama acknowledged. "Well, now," the consultant said, "If Charlie is a professor, things are different. If he decides he'd be happier over at Vine-Covered U., the money goes with him! And don't forget the university is taking about 40 percent of the grant in overhead. Universities live on overhead from grants. So how much do you think his dean wants to try to push Charlie around?" The others' facial expressions told the consultant that the light was dawning for them. "And, of course, the dean anywhere else Charlie wanted to go would be happy to have him," Dr. Oyama murmured, "most likely with no questions asked. There must be some interesting stories." The dean looked a bit uncomfortable at this point, as if a family secret had been revealed. "And now you can see," the consultant went on, "why senior faculty act as they do. They don't answer to their administrations so much as to their funding sources, and those funding sources make decisions by peer review. Being the most recognized person in your department, in your school and especially in your field helps you keep bringing in the money, and bringing in grant money gives you freedom and power. That's why they don't collaborate and may spend a lot of time and effort trying to undermine each other." "It sounds as if the university can't do much to manage them," Dr. Oyama assented. "It gets even worse," the consultant went on grimly. "Remember, the university wants to encourage research and take some of the money. The university's big reward for faculty, to keep them going after research grants, is that the ones who bring in big grants can teach fewer courses and pick which ones they teach. What does that tell you about the real priorities?" "Hey, we care about teaching, too," the dean protested. "We have a teaching award, you know." "Yeah, last I heard, it was up to $3,000," the consultant replied. "That's almost as much as you pay a part-timer like me to teach a whole course. And, by the way, guys, do you have any idea what proportion of this school's courses is taught by part-timers?" Shoulders shrugged all around the table. "Almost half," the dean admitted after an uncomfortable silence. "Now," the consultant said, "those are the people who don't have tenure and who don't have the kind of power big researchers do. You'd think they would be easy to manage, right?" "So it seems," Dr. Oyama acknowledged. "So how come nobody is trying?" the consultant inquired, looking pointedly at the dean. "The school has workshops on teaching for full-time faculty, but I can't get in. Part-timers are the last to hear about new teaching tools, seminars, new books, anything that might help us. Just getting us all together to swap ideas about our courses, and new related research results, and how to use the university's information technology, would have a huge payoff. So why isn't management managing what it can affect?" The dean quietly took in the reactions around the room and announced, "I think we've identified another new initiative we need to undertake." No one disagreed. Douglas A. Samuelson is president of InfoLogix, Inc., a consulting company in Annandale, Va. OR/MS Today copyright © 2003 by the Institute for Operations Research and the Management Sciences. All rights reserved. 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