I had a fascinating discussion not long ago with a consultant friend of mine about the relative value of expertise versus connections. We were serving the same client — he was helping the institution carry out a strategic plan and I was supporting its presidential search. The issue had arisen during a search-committee meeting as we boiled down the standard, walk-on-water job description to the four or five essential attributes and competencies on which that hiring decision would be based.
It was then that the question of the breadth and quality of the candidate's personal contacts pretty quickly shot to near the top of the priority list. The committee clearly wanted someone who had a robust "Rolodex," especially when it came to potential financial supporters of the institution.
It wasn't the first time I had heard that, of course; it comes up in almost every presidential search. What surprised me was that it would weigh so heavily in a presidential search at an institution with such a prominent intellectual reputation. When I noted my surprise in a private conversation with my consultant friend, he was even more shocked at my reaction.
"Lots of institutions choose presidents at least in part on the basis of their Rolodex," he said, and then rattled off a long list of places where that had been a major factor in a presidential-hiring decision, many of them institutions of considerable intellectual renown. I even began to chime in with a couple of examples that suddenly popped to mind, as the logic of the concept became increasingly evident.
I must admit that, even with my many years of search experience, I have been reluctant to build the Rolodex issue more prominently into my thinking about presidential qualifications. There are at least two reasons for that. The first is my own background and preferences: A part of me simply wants hiring decisions to be based on individual accomplishment, ability, and experience — that is to say, on merit — and not on the basis of "connections."
The second is my old-school training in development. Back in the day, it was not considered kosher for fund raisers to attempt to move their donor relationships with them when they changed institutions. In the current marketplace, however, it has become pretty clear that mine is an old-fashioned view.
So, as I scratch my head and re-examine my anachronistic (but heartfelt) belief in a meritocracy, it seems to me that the presidential Rolodex is a legitimate criterion on which to base a hiring decision. To the extent that a candidate has the sorts of relationships that can add value to the central mission of the institution and to the work of its faculty and students, it seems to be perfectly sensible to view those contacts as an asset. For example, I once worked for a law-school dean who was widely connected to judges and journalists. The former were helpful in placing our students in prestigious clerkships; the latter provided interesting speakers for the law school and gave us access to even more people who could help us. Those are positives that I can embrace both practically and ethically.
However, I continue to harbor doubts about the fund-raising angle of this Rolodex requirement. Is it reasonable to assume that a successful fund raiser for one institution will bring to her new one not only her experience and ability but also her donors? Are those donors committed to her or to her institution? Does it matter? Should it? Who makes those judgments? And how do you value such contacts relative to the other assets you require of your candidates?
In my experience, donors are most often institution-specific. They are alumni, parents, or local supporters who have come to believe in the mission of an institution — and, thus, are not "portable."
There is also the matter of how candidates tout their assets in this regard. We have all sat through interviews where people dropped names like cherry bombs, but that approach really doesn't wear well with committees or campus communities. Plus, how do you prove such claims are true?
As I dwelled further on the Rolodex issue, it dawned on me that "who you know" has an additional — and quite different — manifestation within a search when it is applied to internal candidates. That is especially true if you buy the argument that donor relationships are difficult to transport. If external candidates cannot bring donors with them, and don't know the institution's current donors, is the college or university better off hiring an insider who already knows its most important people?
That question arises in almost every search for every institution, regardless of size, type, location, or, most surprisingly, the reach of its efforts. Every institution thinks of itself as so unique, so sui generis, that no one from the outside could ever learn its nuances, its history, its traditions, and, most important, its constituents. In the hiring institution's view, a candidate should come to the job with that knowledge already in place.
That is perhaps especially true of major public research universities. In addition to their fund-raising responsibilities, presidents and chancellors of those institutions spend considerable time lobbying state legislatures. So much of an institution's financial livelihood rests on the ability of this one person to form meaningful relationships, and to navigate those ties in ways that provide direct support for the institution. So, what could be better in a leader than someone who already has those relationships?
While understandable, however, there are at least two problems with that approach. The first is the breadth of the relationships that people bring to the table. Colleges and universities are very, very good at keeping their friends; making new ones is frequently more challenging. When we do development searches, a constant message we hear is that the institution keeps going back to the same small group of people for support rather than broadening its base. The same thing happens with presidents: They have a certain base, a circumscribed circle of acquaintances. They know many, many more people than most rank-and-file citizens, and they work longer and harder at maintaining those relationships. But eventually they get tired or their dance cards get full and there isn't room for any more. So what happens when the key legislator or governor retires or isn't re-elected? What happens when the prospect has given all he has to give?
The second problem is that institutions frequently need a source of new thinking, the perspective of someone not hemmed in by precedent. That is difficult for internal candidates, especially for those whose appointments are based primarily on whom they already know. Challenging the status quo is seldom compatible with keeping a longstanding friend happy.
So perhaps the answer is that you either hire the person who already knows everyone who is important to the campus, or you hire someone who already knows everyone that the college or university would like to become important to them. It is certainly logical to conclude that a candidate with a big Rolodex has the capacity, backed up by the experience, to build strong relationships with people who can help the institution. At a minimum, the Rolodex test would seem a reasonable measure of that critical skill.
Understanding the presidential Rolodex phenomenon will have major implications for the professional development of future institutional leaders. So all you prospective presidents and chancellors out there, let there be no misunderstanding: It is who you know.
