Richard Farson points out
in his delightful book, Management of the Absurd: Paradoxes in Leadership,
that top-level executives have been slow to embrace computers personally
because, in his word, “Absurdly, we have management information
systems that do not serve management.” If we look at the job requirements
of community college presidents, we can see that is true. While
presidents are educators, most are not themselves teaching classes,
and so all the fabulous educational software that has been developed
is not directly relevant to their jobs. Nor are they the ones directly
staying on top of all the data necessary to run a college--the dean,
department directors, and vice presidents are the ones that monitor
“the numbers” in student enrollment, access to student service,
the budget and the like, on a daily or weekly basis.
When you get right down to
it, what presidents mostly do in their day-to-day lives is to deal
with people. I believe they are using personal computers now primarily
because, since the widespread adoption of the Internet by community
colleges over the past few years, computers help them do what they
do most, which is to communicate with others. The League's survey
confirmed their intuitive assessment that it worth their while to
invest in learning computer skills because most of their peers and
others they need to stay in touch with are using computers, and
so the computer is becoming as much of a communications necessity
as the phone and the fax machine already are. Increasingly, presidents
who aren't using computers will be out of the loop--something that
no president can afford to do.
And while I think this is
a good thing--I have personally been advocating presidential usage
of computers for years, because I believe hands-on experience is
useful in developing optimal information technology policy--I do
feel compelled to raise a few questions about the implications of
electronic communications for community college leadership. Because
as Farson reminds us, all communications have “metamessages” in
addition to the content they convey, and electronic or e-mail IS
NOT THE SAME as either traditional written or spoken communiqués.
E-mail is a distinct communication
medium, complete with its own rules, vocabulary (better read the
FAQ to develop good NETIQUETTE or you'll get FLAMED), and level
of expectations (typically, typos or “informal” grammar that would
stick out in written memos are disregarded in e-mail). There are
even conventions to introduce an emotional element to e-mail, such
as using capitalization to replicate SHOUTING or “smilies” to indicate
humor ( :-) ) or displeasure ( :-( ). What “weight” will people
assign to presidential e-mails? Will they be considered to be informal
communications, or will they be official statements that are legally
binding? E-mail has generally been considered to be fairly intimate
communication; will it be handled like mail, which is routinely
screened by assistants, or considered to be like phone calls, in
which it is impermissible for others to listen in without informing
the person on the other end? We currently receive impersonal memos
from “the president,” recognizing that they have actually been written
by others and disseminated under that name; will the same sort of
thing be acceptable under e-mail? Should presidents attach the institutional
mission statement to their e-mail signatures, or can they select
some quote or statement that they find personally inspiring?
Electronic communications
also raise organizational development issues. Much of current leadership
theory, such as Peter Senge's The Fifth Discipline: The Art and
Practice of The Learning Organization or Reinventing Leadership:
Strategies to Empower the Organization by Warren Bennis and Robert
Townsend, advocates flattening organizational hierarchy to enhance
dialogue throughout the institution. Well, widespread e-mail access
virtually annihilates organizational hierarchy. It's as easy to
send an e-mail message to a thousand people (at least once the list
has been compiled) as it is to send it to one person, and teachers
with experience in this field will tell you that e-mail encourages
people who will never contribute in a traditional classroom to “speak
up” over the `Net. I suspect that presidents will find that, despite
whatever “open doors” policies they had in the past, email-ability
will increase substantially the direct feedback they get from faculty,
students, community members, and others they have not typically
heard from in their previous hierarchical structure. Again, leadership
literature generally seems to think that is a good thing; however,
Farson argues that most organizations actually over communicate,
which leads to paralysis. It certainly has implications for institutional
culture, structure and supervision, and due process. I know of at
least one community college that removed e-mail access to its Board
of Trustees when members started getting notices about matters for
they might have been legally liable if, once informed, they did
not pursue, but which would have invited trustees to disrupt the
college's mandatory investigation process.
In counterpoint to Picasso's
famous critique of the computer, I have no answers to these issues,
only questions. I raise them only because I think we should be conscious
of such matters as we welcome this technology into our lives, and
anticipate possible concerns before they erupt as crises. As Farson
concludes, “Every act is a political act.”
Carol Cross, TLC Facilitator
Send email to ccross@mindspring.com.