From the issue dated April 24, 1998

Microsoft's Campus Brain Trust: $10,000 a Year for Providing 'Input' Company values the advice of 'shining stars' from academe; some see the potential for conflicts of interest and suggest strict standards for disclosure By LISA GUERNSEY Microsoft has been quietly developing a brain trust of "Microsoft Scholars" -- campus-computing experts who spend much of their time thinking and talking about how colleges use information technology. The Microsoft Scholars -- there are nine right now -- do not have to be software gurus, and don't have to endorse Microsoft programs. They aren't even expected to A SPECIAL REPORT: Microsoft's reach in higher education Introduction Microsoft Marketing Brings New Business and New Skeptics Corporate Largesse: Philanthropy or Self-Interest? Microsoft's Campus Brain Trust: $10,000 a Year for Providing 'Input' Microsoft Pays $200 for Mentioning Its Tools Funds and Freedom Make Microsoft Nirvana for Some Researchers Colleges Wonder if Microsoft Is Their Next Competitor Microsoft Headquarters Evokes Ambience of Campus, but 'It's Just an Office Park' What you said: Is Microsoft's growing role on college campuses helping or hurting higher education? Does Microsoft have too much influence in academe? Read the responses we received in Colloquy. mention Microsoft's name to anyone. But for their time and thoughts, Microsoft pays them $10,000 a year. Members include such nationally known figures as Steven W. Gilbert, who runs a technology group affiliated with the American Association for Higher Education, and Kenneth C. Green, who publishes an annual survey on campus computing. "These scholars are the shining stars," says Roberto Bamberger, who directs the program. "We bounce ideas off of them, and they give us feedback." A former engineering professor at Washington State University, Mr. Bamberger is now a manager in Microsoft's higher-education-customer unit. People don't apply to become Microsoft Scholars -- the company picks them every June, from settings as disparate as journalism departments and supercomputer centers. Turnover is minimal; most of the nine participants have been involved since the program started, in 1995. At least once a year, the scholars are expected to meet to talk about topics such as financial planning for computer purchases or integrating technology into professors' courses. Some of the members also write papers for Microsoft about those and other issues, and publish them on the company's World-Wide Web site. The program is unlike other relationships between companies and academics. The $10,000 check each year is not a research grant -- the recipients are not studying anything specific for Microsoft. Nor are they consultants -- were they hired to help the software giant tackle a particular problem, most of them say, they would charge much more than $10,000 a year. But the stipend does have a greater value than the unsolicited gifts of software or the expense-paid trips that some academics receive from computer companies trying to woo them into using their products. Other computer companies, too, assemble advisory councils of academics to assist them in developing products. But those scholars are unpaid, beyond travel expenses for council meetings. In any case, conflict-of-interest experts say, people who receive money from companies that they write about or talk about should make public who is paying them. Many of those involved with the Microsoft Scholars program, however, are less than willing to talk about the stipends, and Microsoft officials have been reluctant to acknowledge that the scholars are paid. Only after a story about the scholars ran on The Chronicle's World-Wide Web site last fall did Microsoft confirm that each scholar receives $10,000 a year. "This raises bigger questions, about conflicts of interest and the independence of the academy," says Gary Chapman, director of the 21st Century Project, a program at the University of Texas at Austin that looks at the impact of technology on society. But the issue is "not black and white," he says. "I think Microsoft needs the input of people in the academic sector." Sheldon Krimsky, a professor of urban policy at Tufts University who tracks conflict-of-interest cases in academe, also sees a potential for problems. He says the Microsoft Scholars should avoid making recommendations or decisions about Microsoft software or the equipment on which it runs. "The burden is on the people in the program to demonstrate that this is not a conflict of interest," he says. The scholars, for their part, say the $10,000 stipend doesn't sway them in the least. But some of them are in positions from which they could influence technology purchases, either on their own campuses or, in some cases, on campuses across the country. Mr. Gilbert, for instance, has been a long-time consultant to colleges on information-technology issues and now directs a non-profit technology group in Washington. Mr. Green is a visiting scholar at the Claremont Graduate University and directs the "Campus Computing Project," an annual report on how the Internet, computers, and software are being used on college campuses. Those two and some of the other Microsoft Scholars speak often at technology conferences, and they are thought of as people with the knowledge and independence to offer sound opinions about technological change in higher education. Mr. Gilbert and Mr. Green do disclose that they receive honoraria and other support from a variety of companies. Their presentation materials and publications include notes of appreciation for companies including Microsoft, Apple, and Compaq, which support their work and compensate them for their speeches. Rarely, however, do they describe themselves as Microsoft Scholars -- and even more rarely do they disclose to their audiences that they receive the $10,000 stipends from the company. Mr. Gilbert says that perceived conflicts of interest concern him, but that his participation in the Microsoft Scholars program is ethical as long as he is not endorsing a particular product. Over the years, he says, he has received all kinds of support from technology companies, and because his work has not favored one company over another, he has been comfortable accepting their support. "As long as the corporations were complaining that we were favoring their competitors more," he says, "we were doing something right." Other scholars include people who work for specific universities, such as Barbara H. Horgan, who was director of information resources at Butler University while also participating in the Microsoft program. She recently left Butler, but she acknowledges that while she was at the university, her work required her to interact with technology companies and make decisions about products to buy. But her participation in the Microsoft Scholars program did not present a conflict of interest, she argues, because Butler knew about it. "I'm not going to make a decision based on anything but my institution's best interests," she says. When she arrived at Butler, a few years ago, the university already had a license for Microsoft products -- but, she says, she once decided against buying e-mail software from the company. At Butler and many other universities, conflict-of-interest policies require employees to notify their employers of any potential for conflict. Typically, the policies also contain vague language asking that administrators and professors avoid circumstances in which they might not be able to act objectively. As colleges and businesses have started to form new alliances, university officials may be relying on ever looser interpretations of those guidelines. The Microsoft Scholars program, participants say, is mutually beneficial. They also say their discussions cover a broad range of topics rather than being strictly about Microsoft. Besides, they add, their meetings are a good way to focus Microsoft's attention on universities' needs. But Mr. Krimsky warns that in making arrangements between business and academe, scholars must continue to strive for objectivity, and to avoid anything that even resembles a conflict of interest. "A lot of people might want to trivialize it," he says. "They'll say these things are happening all around us. But there are still some standards that can apply." Current Microsoft Scholars STEPHEN R. ACKER, associate director of instructional technology at the Ohio State University and a professor in the university's communication department. EDWARD J. BARBONI, senior associate at the Council of Independent Colleges. JAMES J. BUCKLEY, president of CBT Systems, a company that develops software for training people to use information technology, and a former vice-president of Apple Computer. STEVEN W. GILBERT, director of the TLT Group, a teaching, learning, and technology program affiliated with the American Association for Higher Education. KENNETH C. GREEN, a visiting scholar at the Claremont Graduate University who is the director of the Campus Computing Project, an annual survey of technology trends. JOHN H. HARRISON, a vice-president of the North Carolina Super Computing Center and former vice-president and chief information officer of the University of North Carolina system. BARBARA H. HORGAN, moderator of an e-mail list for academic-computing officers and former executive director for information resources at Butler University. THOMAS A. McCAIN, an Ohio State University journalism professor who is a former director of the university's Center for Advanced Study in Telecommunications. JAMES L. MORRISON, editor of On the Horizon, a newsletter and e-mail list about changes in education, and The Technology Source, an on-line magazine on Microsoft's World-Wide Web site. He is also a professor of educational leadership at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. http://chronicle.com Section: Information Technology Page: A29