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By Gene C. Fant Jr.

When I first became a department chairman, I followed the "normal" faculty trajectory of earning tenure and then being named to an administrative post within my own academic unit. As chairman, I knew that I would face many politically dangerous assignments. I would evaluate my colleagues for tenure and promotion. I would sit on university standing committees that might put me at odds with powerful administrators. I would make decisions that might prove unpopular with students or their families.

I knew, however, that I could fulfill those assignments in a relatively anxiety-free manner. If I committed administrative suicide, either accidentally or otherwise, I had a luxurious safety net -- tenure.

Four years ago, I left that tenured position and that chairmanship to take a new job as a department head at another university. When I told my mentors about my decision to leave, they all howled about one factor: At my new job I would not have tenure and would not be eligible to apply for it until my fourth year of service.

I was going to be a chairman working without a net.

My new university had not hired me primarily to be a faculty member. It brought me in as an experienced administrator to help a promising young department reach its potential.

When I took the position, I knew I was running a risk that I might be hung out to dry, that I could find myself at the mercy of capricious supervisors or vindictive colleagues.

That is a major, and not uncommon, predicament facing professors who set their feet on the bottom rung of the administrative career ladder: Tenure usually vanishes. It's an alien world to most faculty members who make such a transition.

I had been warned about the dangers of working without tenure early on in my career. A veteran dean had lectured a group of us about the real value of tenure for administrators. It wasn't an issue of academic freedom or some other lofty ideal, he said, but rather the reality of dealing with the business of higher education.

"Never take a position in academic administration without securing a clear, written statement about if, and how, tenure might be attained," the dean had warned. "Without tenure, you may be nonrenewed at almost any time by anyone who may find him or herself in the position of being your supervisor. Just because someone hires you and makes you promises does not mean that the same person will be in that job in another six months. Get everything in writing, preferably in your contract."

I had borne that advice in mind a few years ago when I interviewed for a position as an associate provost. The job would have required me to work closely with the chief academic officer to review faculty development and academic programming. The chosen candidate would receive a nontenurable, three-year contract. If hired, my job security would depend on the protection offered by the provost.

The interview went extremely well. I liked the provost immensely and the faculty had been gracious and encouraging at every turn. At the end of the interview, sitting in the provost's office, I asked my final question about the position: "I don't suppose that you are planning to relocate anytime soon, are you? I really would prefer not to relocate my family only to have you leave in the first year."

I was a little embarrassed to have asked the question, but the provost enjoyed a strong reputation as a perennial presidential prospect. I was not about to be left alone with only a three-year contract protecting me.

He hemmed and hawed, mumbling something that affirmed his long-range plans at the university, but 48 hours later I received an overnight letter from him saying that he had decided to pass on my candidacy. Two weeks later I received word that he was resigning as provost to take a position at another institution.

Whew.

This happens outside higher education, too. Last year an acquaintance of mine, "Bob," took an administrative position with a nonprofit organization. The CEO who hired Bob to restructure the entire charity assured him that his job would be protected as personnel cuts were made and work assignments reallocated. About six months later, Bob implemented a radical restructuring plan for the group. Two months later, the CEO resigned and took a position elsewhere (and no doubt the CEO's résumé now includes a phrase like "streamlined a bloated administration and increased financial efficiency"). Bob became the most disliked and mistrusted person in the organization, and I am waiting to hear that he's been fired. To some extent, Bob was abandoned by the CEO; worse, he is nearly unemployable for other administrative positions.

In academe, the dean who hires a new untenured department head may have a heart attack the next week. The provost who hires an untenured dean may be asked to resign over the summer. The president who hires an untenured provost may be forced to take early retirement because of the terminal illness of a spouse. In each and every one of those cases, there is a danger that the person hired in April may find himself or herself in dire straits come January.

Before signing any contract, you should seek legal advice. As a faculty member taking an administrative position, you should make sure the institution hiring you is absolutely clear on at least four issues:

• What is the specific length of the contract? Is it renewable? When would a renewal be determined? Some administrative contracts are openended, with no terminal length cited; in such cases, you should be especially clear about the other terms of the contract.

• What are the terms of your contract renewal or dismissal? How will your performance be evaluated? Who will complete the evaluation? Can you be terminated without cause (meaning that your contract would be nonrenewed and you would never be told why)? If you are fired, how and when would notification be made? Would the total term of a multiyear contract be paid out to you in a lump sum?

• Is it possible to earn tenure while you hold the position, even if your tenure would not take effect until the administrative position ended? Are you guaranteed a faculty slot if you leave the administrative job? (In smaller universities, with limited resources and faculty rosters, that is a very real problem).

• Is your immediate supervisor likely to remain in the position? What would your relationship be with your supervisor's boss? How stable is the institution's overall administration? Is there a history of administrators leaving every three or four years? If so, where does your potential supervisor fall in that timetable?

Administrative positions offer the potential of great rewards as well as great risks. In my case, those four short years have come and gone and I was awarded tenure this past spring.

My administrative tasks have been daunting but satisfying: I worked with my energetic colleagues on a complete overhaul of our curriculum. Half of my department's faculty members have received tenure or been promoted. Members of my department won the university's awards this year's for Faculty of the Year and Innovative Teaching. Satisfying indeed.

I went out on a limb in taking the job. I would do it again tomorrow if faced with the same situation, even knowing what I know now. I made a calculated risk and it paid off. But keep in mind, it was a very calculated risk. One's career is too important for it not to be.