I have not graduated, but that has not stopped
the Office of Alumni Relations from treating me as though I have. Along with other seniors, I have received copies of the Alumni Magazine. We have been inundated with calls to give money to the College, from faceless administrators, from alumni and -- most cleverly -- from our friends who have been enlisted by the College to help with this endeavor. Despite these efforts I have reached a conclusion that would have been unthinkable to me four years ago: I will not be giving money to the College, under its current management.
My decision not to support the College is irrelevant in terms of the amount it would have added to the College's coffers. As a recent graduate about to embark on a Peace Corps assignment, I am not the sort of person the College would spend much time courting. But at the philosophical level I believe my decision, difficult as it was for me to make, is significant. Why? I loved the College, and I continue to love it. But I do not like the current administration, nor do I trust that the money I might give would be spent wisely by it.
The distinction between the College and the administration that currently controls it is not an artificial one. I still appreciate the location of Dartmouth, nestled in the Upper Valley of New Hampshire. I have benefited from the strong teaching skills of some of the professors under whom I have studied. I like the school spirit we enjoy. But all of these things have been positive influences in spite of the current administration, not because of it. Dartmouth's location in Hanover is an asset, not an exigency awaiting remedy. Dartmouth attracts good professors because they value the cachet of the Ivy League, as well as the intelligent students who attend the College, not because they wish to see library hours and research opportunities curtailed.
Our school spirit is not as strong as it once was four years ago -- perhaps because of increased regulation of student activities or well-intentioned programs that only end up balkanizing the campus -- but we would still have to atrophy a great deal more before we approached the apathy of Brown students. As a result, I am conflicted. I like the essence of the College, but I cannot support the direction in which it is heading. Some may discard my view as simply an anti-authority perspective of a man relatively unschooled in the workings of major corporations, which Dartmouth College in many ways resembles. The problem with this criticism is that I am not, unlike my parents' generation, reflexively hostile to authority.
I do not believe that President Bush is secretly conspiring to control the world's supply of oil, or any of the other conspiracy theories one hears about that particular administration. Why? There is no evidence for the claims, and there is the potential for accountability in the daily press briefings to which the administration voluntarily submits itself. My faith in the current White House administration is largely the result of this transparency and potential for accountability.
Dartmouth's administration, by contrast, has virtually no transparency. This, I believe, is the source of many of the budget shortfalls we are currently facing. As I have detailed in past work, the performance of the endowment over the past five years has been strong, relative to the market. But because so much of the budget is hidden from view, there was never an opportunity during the good times to questions new expenses. Consequently, we are saddled with the burden of liabilities assumed in much better fiscal times -- and even now we cannot discuss them honestly because so little of Dartmouth's budget is open to public view. A budget is a reflection of an institution's priorities and values. When the breakdown of important parts of the budget is unavailable to the public I question what the administration's true priorities are and, more importantly, why they will not divulge them.
The plight of anthropology professor Hoyt Alverson has been a particularly revealing one. Mr. Alverson has been attempting for the past six months to find one number: the amount the College has spent on the Student Life Initiative since its inception. He published an open letter to President Wright seeking this information. He confronted Provost Barry Scherr only to be stonewalled. These events, and the absence of a response from the administration, are all a matter of public record, chronicled in that competing publication that The Dartmouth takes pains not to name. The amount spent on the SLI is of lesser importance to me than the process that hides it, which concerns me greatly because it reveals a paucity of accountability. By contrast, the Bush administration could not refuse to itemize its major budget requests submitted to Congress. Indeed, this information is tremendously valuable to the democratic process because when priorities like reconstruction of Afghanistan go unmet, the opposition can hold them to account. There are far fewer checks and balances for Dartmouth's administration, and we have seen the results recently in abrupt budget cuts.
In my time at Dartmouth, I have learned about the way institutions and organizations operate. One of the most important lessons is that checks and balances are essential, particularly when large sums of money are involved. This need is accentuated if the leadership's priorities or values differ from the consensus of the larger organization. My quarrel with the current administration is twofold: they refuse to yield to reasonable requests for information, and their priorities do not match mine to a large extent. But because there is so little transparency, it is impossible to debate priorities because the facts are unclear. I have looked at the College's financial reports for the past three years, and they are so broad as to be worthless for ascertaining priorities. Numbers have been aggregated to the point where all relevant detail is lost. I love the College, but I have little faith in the administration. Until that changes I will not be giving any money to the College. I may give to organizations associated with it, but not into any fund over which the administration has control. Indeed, money is fungible so even money given to the noblest of the administration's causes indirectly supports their unpopular ones.
I typically end my columns with an exhortation for action. But that would be inappropriate here as reasonable people can disagree on whether the College is headed in the right direction. I believe that the vast majority of graduating seniors loves this College. Some seniors value the same things as the current administration; I do not. The absence of transparency in the budget process bothers me; others are apathetic. I hope that each of us can take measure of our own priorities, and then make a reasoned decision about whether donating money to the College reinforces those preferences or contradicts them.
This is my final column, so I wish to thank those who have taken the time to read my work over the past few years; it has been a rewarding experience.
