Cryptology 501

People frequently don’t say what they mean.  This is especially true in the case of final reports issued by accreditation bodies in higher education.  These team-authored documents are typically polite — and diplomatic — to a fault.  Therefore, as a service to college and university presidents everywhere, University Life offers this guide for decoding 10 common statements found in accreditation reports. 

REPORT SAYS: “The team has identified the following distinctive strengths of your institution.”

REPORT MEANS: “Your school pretty much sucks at everything it does, but here are a few areas where you don’t suck quite as much.”

REPORT SAYS: “The major concerns that emerged during the team’s site visit include the following…”

REPORT MEANS: “Get ready.  There are a ton of dumpster fires on your campus, and we’ll just be exploring the tip of the iceberg.  Indeed, the circumstances at your institution are so dire that they require two metaphors.  You’re simultaneously aflame and sinking.”

REPORT SAYS: “Strengthening consensus-oriented decision-making within the academic units of your school is essential.”

REPORT MEANS: “At a recent Sociology Department retreat, a subgroup of decolonization theorists took several of their colleagues hostage after a raucous disagreement over the use of the term ‘Latinx’.  Negotiations for the release of these hostages have reached an impasse, even though one of them is 9 months pregnant.  The optics are not good, to put it mildly.” 

REPORT SAYS: “Increased attention to gathering outcome data on the school’s graduates would be time well-spent.”

REPORT MEANS: “Based on the team’s luncheon meeting with 4th-year students, it appears that many of your undergraduates can’t read.”

REPORT SAYS: “There is a need for more effective succession planning within certain divisions of the university.”

REPORT MEANS: “The Director of the Library is agonizingly clueless, advocating retention of the card catalog system as the foundation for all library functions, including podcast listings.  A humane institution would put him out of his misery.  He is a blind squirrel wandering around in a falcon sanctuary in broad daylight.”

REPORT SAYS: “At this point in the university’s history, a re-examination of the school’s mission may be in order.”

REPORT MEANS: “The current mission statement, which begins with ‘We hope to still be in business next week’, is probably not the way to go.”

REPORT SAYS: “A review of roles and responsibilities within the Division of Student Affairs could result in services being more responsive to student needs.”

REPORT MEANS: “Your Dean of Students came to the university after being fired as Customer Services Manager at Jiffy Lube.  Have you no shame?”

REPORT SAYS: “Inspection of the institution’s organizational chart reveals that some reporting relationships may be less than optimal.”

REPORT MEANS: “For the love of God, why does the Dean of Arts & Sciences report to the Director of Buildings and Grounds?  And does it really make sense to have a joint Department of Entrepreneurship, Physics, and Nursing?”

REPORT SAYS: “It is unclear that all empirical claims made in the college’s promotional materials are evidence-based.”

REPORT MEANS: “Where in the hell do you get off saying that ‘our students have the best sex in the Southeastern Conference’?”

REPORT SAYS: “Strategic fundraising remains a challenge for the university.”

REPORT MEANS: “The school’s last three bake sales in support of repaving the faculty parking lot have netted less than $75.  It’s time to move on.”

Good luck with your next accreditation cycle. 

 

 

“Let Me Put It Another Way….”

On May 10th the Chronicle of Higher Education observed that “a flurry of votes of no confidence in college leaders….has swept higher ed in the past month.”

In fairness, it should be noted that an increasing number of schools around the country are abandoning the blunt-edged sword of no-confidence votes in favor of more nuanced declarations of dissatisfaction with college presidents.  Here’s a sample:

— At Georgetown University, a Jesuit institution, faculty recently informed the President that “Almighty God is deeply disappointed in you and beseeches you to undergo a public exorcism at your earliest convenience.  Satan must be banished from your corroded soul.”  The President complied, thus averting a faculty strike. 

— Professors at Middlebury College in Vermont voted to avoid making eye contact with the President if they crossed her path on campus and not respond if she greeted them verbally during these encounters.  This shunning led the President to agree to demands that shrimp cocktail be returned to the luncheon menu in the faculty dining room. 

— Lehigh University conducted a “Vote of Intense Irritation with the President” on May 3rd, which passed 402-53.  Three days later, the President embarked on a Mea Culpa Tour of all academic departments, washing the feet of every chairperson. 

— On May 1st, faculty at Mount Holyoke College took a We’re Not Feeling the Love” vote, which passed overwhelmingly.  Subsequently, the Provost announced that elimination of low-enrollment degree programs would always be accompanied by a bear hug and a Starbucks gift card delivered by the President to each laid-off faculty member. 

— Not all schools have chosen to pursue a kinder, gentler path. At the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, faculty voted on April 25th to formally notify the President via text message that “You Suck.”  The President responded with an email that said, “No, YOU suck.”

The Takeaway: If your President does indeed suck, you’ve got options. 

 

“You Folks Can Keep Your City-Learnin’….”

“What Counts as a Rural College?”  An interesting question, and the title of a video just released by the Chronicle of Higher Education (Academe, May 8th online).  

As a supplement to this valuable resource, University Life is pleased to offer its list of 11 surefire ways of identifying a rural institution of higher education:

1 — The Drama Department’s theatrical production of Cabaret is set on a 1930’s dairy farm in Buck Grove, Iowa.  In the adaptation, Sally Bowles is a Catholic nun who works for 4-H as an agricultural extension agent.  

2 — The shuttle-bus trip to the local shopping mall takes two-and-a-half days.

3 — During final exam periods, Therapy Hens are available in the library to provide support to stressed students. 

4 — On Saturday nights, undergraduates grab a handful of Cock-a-Doodle-Doo Condoms from Health Services and head over to the campus corn maze for some heavy smooching…and maybe more.

5 — At graduation, honorary degree recipients are given a pair of Dickies Classic Bib Overalls with golden shoulder tassels. 

6 — “O Pioneers!” by Willa Cather is required reading in every undergraduate course, including labs. 

7 — In the dining hall, cow’s milk is squeezed directly into cereal bowls by seniors majoring in Udder Studies. 

8 — The school’s most popular dating app is County Fairest, where female students on TikTok prepare a box lunch for that special fella they hope to attract. 

 9 — After every tornado, the folks in Buildings and Grounds spend the day “riding fences,” which involves retrieving students blown into the barbed-wire boundary that separates the campus from the grounds of the state penitentiary. 

10 — Students protest Israel’s occupation of Gaza by tossing loaves of Zingerman’s Jewish Rye into the cow-pie pit next to the adjunct faculty parking lot. 

11 — In Friday FanDuel, esports majors wager on the size of the next litter to be dropped by the feral cat living in the horse barn. 

It’s 5:00 am.  Do you know where your wheat thresher is? 

 

“We’re Just Finishing Dessert. Could You Arrest Us In A Few Minutes?”

As tent cities protesting the god-awful mess in Gaza proliferate on college campuses around the country, a newly established settlement at Princeton University is raising the judgmental eyebrows of both liberals and conservatives. 

Rather than erecting tents, Princeton activists have imported a fleet of luxury motor homes to reside in on the campus green.  For example, sophomores Cordell Wickington, Max Fairview, and Alicia Stendlehouse are sharing a 2024 King Aire Motor Coach, which retails for $1.6 million.  

“My dad gave it to me a few weeks ago after I almost scored a goal in a lacrosse game against Cornell,” says Wickington.  “He was so proud.”

Not everyone is pleased.  Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders calls the Princeton encampment “a monument to conspicuous consumption” that the students should be ashamed of.  “Children are starving in Gaza while these  privileged pissants snack on caviar and cracked crab in obscenely expensive vehicles.”

Wickington’s response: “Bite me, Bernie.  Most of the time we just get take-out from the local Chick-fil-A.  We’re making sacrifices too.”

When asked to comment, Princeton President Christopher Eisgruber noted that “the folks in Buildings and Grounds are not happy with the damage being done to our campus lawn by these massive RVs.  There’s no way they’ll be able to repair the deep ruts in time for Tigermania: The Annual Croquet Tournament for Graduating Seniors.  But as long as students don’t try to drive one of those bad boys into my office, I’m not calling in the police.”

NOTE:  Guided tours of the Princeton encampment, including visits to 10 of the motor homes, will be held on Saturday, May 4th from 1:00 to 4:30 pm.  Admission is $10 for adults and $2 for children 8 and under.