Tag: Role

  • WEEKEND READING: The one strategic role almost every university underestimates – and why it matters now more than ever

    WEEKEND READING: The one strategic role almost every university underestimates – and why it matters now more than ever

    This blog was kindly authored by Caroline Dunne, Leadership Coach, Change Mentor and former Chief of Staff.  

    For many Vice-Chancellors, the challenge is one of bandwidth. Leading a university today is equivalent to running a major regional employer – complex multi-campus operations, often turning over hundreds of millions of pounds, under intensifying public and political scrutiny. In this environment, strategic support is not a luxury; it is a prerequisite for strong, steady leadership that can hold the line between urgent pressure and long-term ambition.

    Within this context, one critical role remains under-recognised in much of the sector: the Chief of Staff.

    Drawing on insights from interviews conducted in the first quarter of this academic year with Chiefs of Staff and senior Higher Education leaders across the UK, this piece explores the strategic value of the role and why, in a period of profound turbulence, now could be the right time to put more “Chief” into the Chief of Staff.

    An untapped strategic asset

    Outside higher education, the Chief of Staff is a well-understood part of modern executive infrastructure: a senior adviser who expands the horizon of the chief executive, drives alignment, absorbs complexity and enables organisational agility.

    Inside higher education, the role is far more variable. In some institutions, the role is positioned as a strategic partner to the Vice-Chancellor; in others, it is mistaken for an ‘executive assistant-plus’ or folded into a different portfolio. Reporting lines, authority and remit differ widely, sometimes limiting the role’s ability to deliver its full strategic value.

    What emerged consistently from my interviews is this: the absence of a portfolio is the Chief of Staff’s greatest strategic advantage. It enables the role to traverse boundaries, ‘keep things moving in the grey areas’ and view institutional issues through an enterprise lens rather than a single-portfolio perspective.

    As one interviewee described it, not having a portfolio makes you:

    A free agent with an aerial view.

    Greater understanding of this untapped role is overdue. Paradoxically – and perhaps counterintuitively in a resource-constrained sector – it is precisely in this context that a well-positioned Chief of Staff becomes most critical to institutional success.

    Five modes of strategic influence

    In a sector facing systemic pressures, where, as one respondent put it, “driving change and transformation… is like pushing a boulder uphill”, the Chief of Staff plays an important catalytic role – shaping thinking, absorbing complexity and helping the organisation respond with coherence rather than fragmentation.

    I conducted 11 interviews which revealed five modes of strategic influence that a Chief of Staff brings to university leadership:

    Sense-making: turning complexity into coherence.

    Not being tied to a portfolio gives the Chief of Staff a rare vantage point. They see the connections, gaps and risks that others – focused on their own areas – may miss.

    A seat at the top table, even without formal membership, brings influence through insight rather than authority. Chiefs of Staff challenge assumptions, sharpen strategic issues and help Vice-Chancellors translate vision into coordinated action.

    One interviewee captured the essence of the role well:

    “We help make things happen, but we belong in the background.”

    Alignment and flow: moving decisions through the system.

    Universities are structurally complex, often siloed and prone to initiatives moving at different speeds in different directions. Chiefs of Staff surface dependencies, shepherd decisions through the right governance bodies, and ensure that decisions, conversations and projects maintain momentum.

    As one Chief of Staff noted:

    We make sure everyone is rowing in the same direction – even if they’re in separate boats.

    Trusted connectivity: the organisational glue

    Nearly every interviewee emphasised the relational character of the role. Chiefs of Staff build trust across formal and informal networks, read the room, join dots, create spaces for candid conversations and offer a safe space to rehearse potentially difficult issues.

    Much of their impact is intentionally invisible. As one Chief of Staff reflected, the

    most significant unseen impact is behind-the-scenes relationship building.

    Another colleague added:

    Real mastery is knowing when to be visible and when to be invisible… knowing how to master ego.

    Influence in universities is exercised as much between meetings as it is within them.

    Strategic counsel:  second pair of eyes

    Vice-Chancellors face relentless external demands. Chiefs of Staff help maintain strategic momentum by offering:

    • operational realism
    • political insight
    • institutional memory
    • horizon scanning
    • a safe environment to test ideas

    Several described themselves as the “second pair of eyes” – seeing risks early and raising issues before they land.

    We clear barriers, trial new approaches, and give leaders the space to act confidently without being swamped by operational detail – enabling principled, well-understood risks.

    Steadying influence: calm in a volatile environment


    With no portfolio interests and a broad institutional view, Chiefs of Staff help manage tension within senior teams, support leadership transitions and create calm judgement in moments of pressure.

    As one interviewee said:

    A Chief of Staff can help calm the waters – up and down and sideways.

    Another added:

    When an institution is facing uncertainty, you need someone with no skin in the game – someone invested in the success of the collective.

    “A Chief of Staff takes it to the finish line – but you’re nowhere near the ribbon.”

    The point is clear: the role is not about visibility. It is about capacity, coherence, relationships, pace and judgement.

    In a sector where senior leaders are stretched, where decisions carry political and human consequences, and where the pace of change is only accelerating, the question for institutions is no longer whether to invest in a Chief of Staff – but how to position the role for maximum effect:

    • reporting lines that enable influence
    • clarity of remit
    • proximity to decision-making
    • and a mandate that embraces both people and strategy

    As the higher education sector faces continued uncertainty, one thing is clear: well-positioned Chief of Staffs are not a luxury. They are a source of resilience, coherence and leadership capacity – precisely when the sector needs it most.

    In developing this piece, I am deeply grateful to the colleagues who generously contributed their insights including:

    Dr Giles Carden, Chief Strategy Officer and Chief of Staff, University of Southampton

    Dr Clare Goudy, Chief of Staff, Office of the President and Provost, UCL

    Thomas Hay, Head of Vice-Chancellor’s Office, Cardiff University

    Jhumar Johnson, former Chief of Staff to the former Vice-Chancellor at the Open University

    Dr. Chris Marshall, Chief of Staff and Head of the Vice-Chancellor’s Office, University of Wales Trinity Saint David

    Mark Senior, Chief of Staff (Vice-Chancellor’s Office), University of Birmingham

    Rachel Stone, Head of Governance and Vice-Chancellor’s Office, University of Roehampton 

    Luke Taylor, Chief of Staff to the President & Vice-Chancellor, University of Manchester

    Becca Varley, Chief of Staff, Vice-Chancellor’s Office, Sheffield Hallam University

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  • Universities need standards, not role models

    Universities need standards, not role models

    The debate about duty of care in higher education has been obscured by the repeated collapse of distinct legal questions into a single, unresolved argument.

    In particular, discussion of whether a duty of care exists is routinely conflated with questions about what responsibility would require in practice.

    That confusion has prevented sustained analysis of the standards by which conduct should be judged, which is where responsibility acquires real content.

    To address that problem, this article deliberately limits the scope of its analysis. It does not engage with the minimal, background obligation that applies to everyone not to cause foreseeable and substantial harm to others.

    That obligation is universal and requires very little: it is ordinarily satisfied by avoiding obvious risks in everyday activity, and it doerobert as not involve the design of systems, the monitoring of risk, or the anticipation of harm beyond what is immediately apparent.

    Nor does this article seek to resolve the threshold question of whether, and in what precise circumstances, an overarching institutional duty arises in higher education. That question turns on context and relationship and can be answered in different ways as a matter of law.

    This limitation is adopted for a reason. Disputes about the existence or outer boundaries of duty tend to obscure the more significant and unresolved issue of how responsibility should be exercised in practice.

    The analysis proceeds on the assumption that, as in other recognised institutional and professional contexts, a relationship-based duty may arise where organisations undertake defined functions and create foreseeable risks through their systems and decision-making.

    On that assumption, the central question is not whether duty exists, but how it should be discharged. The focus is accordingly on the standards by which responsibility should be assessed in a modern university, rather than on analogies or models of conduct borrowed from different fields.

    Duty establishes responsibility; standards give it content

    In law, a duty and the standard by which conduct is assessed perform different functions. The duty establishes that responsibility arises at all. It is a gateway concept, triggered where there is a sufficient relationship and a risk of foreseeable harm.

    Once a duty exists, it doesn’t prescribe outcomes or require the provision of any particular form of “care” in the everyday sense of that word. Rather, it establishes that those with responsibility must avoid carelessness in their actions or inaction, including in how systems are designed and how decisions are taken where foreseeable harm may arise.

    What counts as reasonable, and therefore what amounts to carelessness, is not determined by the existence of the duty itself, but by what is reasonably required in the circumstances, having regard to the role performed, the functions undertaken, and the context in which decisions are made.

    The practical consequences of this distinction are straightforward but often overlooked. Responsibility does not take a single, uniform form. What it requires depends on the nature of the activity undertaken, the role being performed, and the degree of reliance and risk created in the circumstances. The same underlying obligation not to act carelessly will therefore be expressed very differently in different settings.

    Crucially, it also requires that foreseeable risks are addressed rather than deferred – responsibility is not discharged by ignoring warning signs, postponing decisions, or allowing procedural drift to substitute for timely action where intervention is reasonably required.

    The distinction is often easiest to see through the lens of professional systems. A stranger has no obligation to warn you of an approaching storm. An airline, by contrast, has invited you into its system and possesses the radar to see the danger. It can’t stop the storm, and it’s not your parent – but it does have a responsibility arising from how it manages risk.

    Borrowed standards obscure, rather than clarify, responsibility

    Discussions of responsibility in higher education are frequently derailed by the use of inappropriate comparisons.

    When questions are raised about what universities should reasonably be expected to do, the response is often to reach for an existing and familiar model from elsewhere – parenting, custody, clinical practice, or institutional supervision. These comparisons are then used to argue that universities either cannot, or should not, be held responsible in similar ways.

    This mode of argument rests on a basic mistake. It assumes that responsibility must always be understood by analogy to some other established setting, and that the only question is which existing model should be imported (never mind that none of them quite fit). The result is a debate conducted by comparison rather than analysis, in which standards developed for very different purposes are treated as benchmarks against which responsibility in higher education is judged.

    The problem is not that these other standards exist. It is that they are being used in the wrong way.

    One obligation, assessed differently across contexts

    Across the law, there is not a proliferation of different duties corresponding to different institutions. In each case there is an underlying obligation not to act carelessly where responsibility arises. What varies is how that obligation is assessed in different contexts. The law doesn’t ask whether an institution resembles a parent, a prison, or a hospital. It asks what avoiding careless conduct reasonably requires, given the role performed, the functions undertaken, and the risks created.

    Standards developed in other settings reflect those settings. Parental and apprenticeship standards arose where there was dependency and close supervision. Custodial standards reflect confinement and control. Clinical standards reflect specialist expertise, regulation, and professional judgement. Each provides a way of judging conduct in its own context. None is a universal template, and none can be transplanted wholesale into a different institutional environment without distortion.

    Using these standards as analogies for higher education therefore tells us very little about what universities should reasonably be expected to do. At best, such comparisons show what higher education is not. They don’t tell us what it is.

    In loco parentis explains the past – it does not define the present

    The continued invocation of in loco parentis illustrates this problem clearly. Parents owe a duty to their children, but they are judged according to a parental standard shaped by dependency, authority, and control. In loco parentis did not create a special or additional duty. It applied that parental standard to educational institutions at a time when students were young, dependent, and subject to close supervision.

    The difficulty today is not that universities are being asked to revive this model. It is that in loco parentis is still treated as a reference point, either to be defended or rejected, rather than as a historical example of how responsibility was once assessed in very different circumstances. Once that is recognised, arguments about universities “becoming parents” lose their relevance. The parental standard is neither applicable nor required.

    Control calibrates responsibility – it does not create it

    Control is often introduced at this point as a decisive factor. Universities, it is argued, do not exercise the level of control found in prisons, hospitals, or schools, and therefore should not be subject to responsibility of any comparable kind. This argument again mistakes comparison for analysis.

    Control doesn’t determine whether responsibility arises. It influences what avoiding careless conduct reasonably requires. Where control is extensive, expectations are correspondingly more intrusive. Where control is partial or situational, expectations are more limited. Where control is absent, responsibility may still arise, but its practical demands will be constrained. This is how responsibility already operates across institutional contexts, including prisons, hospitals, and schools.

    Control, in this sense, isn’t all-or-nothing. A university doesn’t control where a student chooses to walk late at night, but it does control the lighting on its own campus paths. Responsibility attaches to what falls within that sphere of influence, and the standard is calibrated accordingly.

    The same reasoning applies to higher education providers. The question is not whether they resemble other institutions, but how responsibility should be assessed having regard to what they actually do, how they are organised, and the risks their systems and decisions create.

    In professional systems, responsibility includes designing processes that can respond when risk escalates beyond routine conditions. Where systems lack clear escalation pathways, or where exceptional circumstances cannot override ordinary procedure, responsibility may fail not through indifference, but through inertia. Standards of care are tested not only by what institutions do in normal conditions, but by whether their systems enable timely and proportionate action when those conditions no longer apply.

    Seen in this light, comparisons with parents, prisons, or hospitals do not advance the debate. They obscure it. Higher education doesn’t need to borrow someone else’s standard in order to avoid responsibility, nor to justify it. What is required is a clear articulation of the standard that fits higher education as it exists now, rather than as it once did or as something else entirely.

    A professional standard in practice

    Modern universities are professional institutions operating through differentiated roles, delegated expertise, and organisational systems. Avoiding carelessness in this context doesn’t require staff to act beyond their competence. Academic staff are not clinicians, and non-academic staff are not responsible for making safeguarding judgements beyond their role.

    Clarity of role is not a threat to academic freedom but a condition of it. By defining where responsibility properly sits, academic staff are protected from being pressed into quasi-clinical or pastoral roles for which they are neither trained nor authorised, allowing them to focus on teaching and scholarship while institutional systems manage risk. Academic freedom is therefore not incompatible with responsibility – it depends on responsibility being allocated clearly and appropriately.

    What avoiding careless conduct does require is that roles are clearly defined, that concerns are recognised and escalated appropriately, and that institutional systems are designed to manage foreseeable risk without leaving responsibility to chance. Harm frequently arises not from dramatic acts, but from omissions – fragmented information, unclear responsibility, or decisions taken without regard to known risk. These are questions of institutional competence rather than individual moral failing.

    The difference between a parental approach and a professional one can be illustrated simply. Under a parental standard, a student’s unexplained absence might prompt direct personal intervention – phone calls, door-knocking, or demands for explanation. Under a tertiary professional standard, responsibility is exercised differently.

    The focus is not on intrusion, but on systems – whether attendance data, engagement with digital resources, or other indicators trigger an appropriate institutional response in line with defined roles and protocols. The question is not why the student has disengaged, but whether the institution’s systems are functioning competently to recognise and respond to foreseeable risk.

    Naming the Tertiary Professional Standard

    The standard by which responsibility in higher education should be assessed can be described as the Tertiary Professional Standard. This term identifies the particular way in which responsibility is judged in the higher education context, reflecting its professional, role-sensitive, and institutional character.

    It is neither parental, custodial, nor clinical. It aligns responsibility with competence and control, reflects the realities of adult education, and recognises that universities act through systems as well as individuals. The Tertiary Professional Standard protects students without infantilising them, and it protects staff by defining the limits of what can reasonably be expected.

    It replaces confusion with clarity. Higher education doesn’t need to revive outdated models or deny responsibility altogether. It needs to articulate, clearly and honestly, the standard by which responsibility is already exercised. That is the conversation now worth having.

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  • Scholar: Boys kissing, ‘genderfluid pottery artists’ in kids’ lit makes ‘better masculinity role models’

    Scholar: Boys kissing, ‘genderfluid pottery artists’ in kids’ lit makes ‘better masculinity role models’

    In order to reach young boys ‘before they radicalise in dangerous ways’

    The taxpayer-subsidized anti-Trump site The Conversation is at it again, featuring a Christmas Eve article on how boys kissing and diverse Asgardian characters such as “deaf elves, Muslim American female warriors and genderfluid pottery artists” can improve the concept of masculinity.

    According to Edinburgh Napier University Senior Research Fellow Adrianna Zabrzewska, “toxic masculinity” not only “marginalizes” women and those in the LGBTQ+ community, but hurts straight males by “discouraging emotional expression, tenderness, and connection.”

    In order to reach young boys “before they radicalise in dangerous ways,” Zabrzewska says children’s and young adult literature can assist in “rethinking masculinity” by focusing on “relationality, vulnerability, and inclination.”

    Two books in particular Zabrzewska recommends are “Two Boys Kissing” and “Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard.” In the former, two boys are “hoping to set the world record for the longest kiss,” while the latter features a “sweet, caring” teenaged male protagonist and an “engaging” lesson on intersectionality via “deaf elves […] Muslim American female warriors and genderfluid pottery artists.”

    Cover of Two Boys Kissing; ZayBeachum/YouTube

    She continues:

    Vulnerability refers to the shared human condition of being a body born from another body. We are all finite and fragile, susceptible to harm, loss, and injustice. Through our fragility and dependence, vulnerability can be transformed into resilience and connection. This is especially true when we recognise the diverse experiences of disenfranchisement that we each face.

    In Two Boys Kissing, the chorus of narrators celebrate imperfect bodies, both cis-gendered and trans, that defy unrealistic beauty standards. They whisper encouragement to a lonely teen contemplating suicide and agonise over his pain. They affirm that care, intimacy and affection are not signs of weakness but of strength. Through these voices, [author David] Levithan’s readers learn that self-acceptance comes not from independence or dominance but from reaching out to others.

    Adrianna Zabrzewska/Edinburgh Napier University

    When strategically integrated into stories, educational practices and daily interactions, vulnerability, relationality, and inclination can help us sketch new ethical horizons, and not only for masculinity but for gendered existence as a whole.

    According to her university page, Zabrzewska is a “feminist philosopher” whose research interests include “continental feminist philosophy,” “gendered embodiment and embodied voice,” and “queer-feminist resistances to anti-gender politics across Europe.”

    Zabrzewska also works on the RESIST Project which deals with “‘anti-gender’ politics that imperil equality, gender and sexual diversity, and legitimacy of critical knowledge” in Europe. It is funded by Horizon Europe — “the EU’s key funding programme for research and innovation” — whose current total budget is €93.5 billion.

    MORE: Boston U. students to study ‘gender fluid angels’ in ‘Medieval Trans Studies’ class

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  • What role do diplomats play?

    What role do diplomats play?

    “There is a perception that diplomats lead a comfortable life throwing dinner parties in fancy homes. Let me tell you about some of my reality. It has not always been easy. I have moved 13 times and served in seven different countries, five of them hardship posts. My first tour was Mogadishu, Somalia.”

    So said Marie Yovanovitch, a veteran U.S. diplomat who was the first witness in a congressional inquiry held to find out whether President Donald Trump abused his power as president by extorting a foreign president into investigating a Trump rival, former Vice President Joe Biden, in the race for the 2020 U.S. elections.

    The congressional hearings, only the third in the nation’s 243-year history to target a president for impeachment, have dominated the U.S. political debate for weeks and will continue making headlines for months both in the United States and elsewhere.

    It is a case that highlights, among other issues, widespread perceptions that diplomats have cushy jobs and play a lesser role in implementing foreign policy than soldiers.

    Yovanovitch, who was recalled from her post as ambassador to Ukraine for reasons that are at the heart of the impeachment proceedings, went on to tell a hushed meeting chamber: “The State Department as a tool of foreign policy often doesn’t get the same attention and respect as the military might of the Pentagon does, but we are — as they say — ‘the pointy end of the spear.’”

    “If we lose our edge, the U.S. will inevitably have to use other tools, even more often than it does today. And those other tools are blunter, more expensive and not universally effective.”

    Exhibit A is Cuba.

    Those tools include military force and economic sanctions, the latter being Trump’s favourite method to try to bend antagonistic governments to his will. The limits of military force are particularly obvious in Afghanistan and Iraq, where American troops have been waging war for 18 and 15 years, respectively.

    Exhibit A for the limits of economic sanctions is Cuba, which withstood an American embargo for more than 50 years. More recently, “maximum pressure” to cripple Iran’s economy has yet to persuade the government there to drop its nuclear ambitions, curb its quest for regional supremacy or curb support for groups hostile to the United States and Israel.

    The impeachment hearings have brought into focus the interplay between diplomacy and military strength.

    According to a parade of witnesses, all of whom except one were professional diplomats or career civil servants, Trump made the release of $391 million in military aid to Ukraine contingent on its president, Volodymyr Zelenski, launching an investigation into Biden and his son Hunter, who worked for a Ukrainian energy company while his father was the point person for Ukraine in the administration of ex-President Barack Obama.

    For the past five years, Ukraine has been fighting Russian-backed separatists in a low-intensity war in the east of the country. It needs the American aid, including anti-tank missiles, to keep control of its territory.

    According to administration witnesses in the impeachment hearings, Trump had ordered a freeze on the aid — which had been allocated by Congress — as a lever, thus using public funds for personal advantage.

    Big military spender

    The main conduit for the request for an investigation was President Trump’s personal attorney, Rudy Giuliani, who is a private citizen, rather than the U.S. ambassador to Ukraine, the State Department or the National Security Council.

    Giuliani saw Yovanovitch as an obstacle for the aid-for-investigations deal and he spread false rumours about her being a Trump critic. The end result: she received a middle-of-the-night call telling her to leave her post and take the next flight to Washington.

    Ivanovitch’s testimony at the impeachment hearing echoed complaints, voiced mostly in private, from foreign service diplomats almost as soon as Trump assumed office. Now, she said, there is “a crisis in the State Department as the policy process is visibly unraveling, leadership vacancies go unfilled and senior and mid-level officers ponder an uncertain future and head for the doors.”

    By word and by tweet, Trump has made clear his disdain for the institutions of state, from the State Department to the Central Intelligence Agency, the FBI and the Justice Department. This year, for the third year in a row, the administration is cutting the budget for the State Department while increasing the Pentagon’s.

    The United States already spends as much on its military as the next eight countries combined. It tops the list of global arms sellers. U.S. armed forces outnumber the diplomatic service and its major foreign aid agency by a ratio of around 180:1, vastly higher than other Western democracies.

    Beyond military solutions

    Curiously, the imbalance between the size of the U.S. armed forces and the civilian agencies that make up “soft power” — chiefly the foreign service and the United States Agency for International Development — have long been a matter of concern for military leaders.

    Often used in academic discourse, the term “soft power” was coined in the 1980s by Harvard political scientist Joseph Nye. It embraces diplomacy and assistance to foreign countries as well as cultural and exchange programs meant to improve the image of the United States. Hard power, in contrast, includes guns, tanks, war planes and soldiers.

    Last year, budget cuts for diplomacy and development so alarmed the military that 151 retired generals and admirals wrote to congressional leaders to plead for greater emphasis on civilian foreign policy and security agencies. “Today’s crises do not have military solutions alone,” the officers’ letter said.

    It quoted an observation by General James Mattis, the Trump administration’s first Defense secretary: “America’s got two fundamental powers, the power of intimidation and the power of inspiration.”

    Soon after taking office in January 2017, Trump promised “one of the greatest military buildups in military history” and put forward an “America First budget. It is not a soft power budget, it is a hard power budget.”

    There were not then, nor are there now, provisions to boost the power of inspiration.

     


    THREE QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER:

    1. In what ways are economic sanctions limited?

    2. What is “soft power”?

    3. How might you use a form of diplomacy to bring them together two people angry at each other?

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  • Louisiana State University splits president-chancellor role

    Louisiana State University splits president-chancellor role

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    The end of fall semester can be a relatively quiet period on campus, as many students return home and colleges gear up for the second half of the academic year. But at least six colleges are facing big transitions after announcing leadership changes in November.

    One public California college will get a new president more than a year after its last permanent leader abruptly resigned amid backlash from system leaders. And a small liberal arts college in Pennsylvania — thrust into the national spotlight earlier this year amid Republican lawmakers’ antisemitism hearings — will soon be on the hunt to replace its president after she announced her forthcoming retirement.

    Below, we’re rounding up a selection of last month’s most significant college leadership changes.

    President: Wade Rousse
    Institution: Louisiana State University System
    Coming or going? Coming

    Wade Rousse will take over as president of the eight-campus Louisiana State University System, its board said in a Nov. 4 release. Rousse previously led McNeese State University, a fellow public Louisiana college, and took the reins at the LSU System as the state’s governor increasingly seeks to be involved in its operations.

    But Rousse will not have all of the same duties as his predecessor.

    The board also announced that James Dalton, previously executive vice president and provost at the University of Alabama, will become chancellor of LSU’s main campus, in Baton Rouge. The board had previously considered Dalton as a finalist for system president.

    Rousse and Dalton began their respective positions on Nov. 17, according to local news reports.

    LSU’s last permanent leader, William Tate IV, served as both president of the system and chancellor of its main campus. The board had combined the two positions in 2012, but Tate’s abrupt departure in June came amid reports from the Louisiana Illuminator that the university was considering reseparating the roles. 

    The institution’s board did not confirm it had restructured the roles until it announced Rousse and Dalton’s appointments. According to the system, the split will allow the president “to focus on systemwide oversight and strategic initiatives” while the chancellor will work to make the flagship campus “a top 50 Research University” and eligible for the selective Association of American Universities.

    President: David Cook
    Institution: Iowa State University
    Coming or going? Coming

    The Iowa Board of Regents on Nov. 11 selected David Cook to lead Iowa State University, beginning March 2026. Cook, an alum of Iowa State, serves as president of North Dakota State University, a position he has held since 2022.

    Under Cook, North Dakota State has restructured and made significant cuts, including by eliminating 80 employee positions and discontinuing or merging 29 academic programs. The university allocated the savings into 17 new programs, and the cuts reduced the public institution’s operating costs by $24 million, according to Cook’s curriculum vitae.

    Per the Iowa board, Cook will receive $700,000 annually under a five-year contract.

    Iowa State’s current president, Wendy Wintersteen, plans to retire in January after 46 years at the university.

    President: Pat Pitney
    Institution: The University of Alaska system
    Coming or going? Going

    University of Alaska President Pat Pitney plans to retire in May, she announced Nov. 13. She took over as interim leader of the public three-university system in June 2020, following the abrupt departure of beleaguered former President Jim Johnsen

    Johnsen, who oversaw the system at a time when Alaska’s governor sought to decimate its public funding, enacted heavy budget cuts and underwent two votes of no-confidence from faculty. 

    Pitney became the system’s permanent leader in 2022. Under her, the public system’s enrollment grew for three consecutive years, following years of declines.

    During a September board meeting, Pitney and the system’s head of federal relations shared how the University of Alaska has navigated the Trump administration’s vacillating higher education policies.

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  • Political Violence, Systemic Oppression, and the Role of Higher Education

    Political Violence, Systemic Oppression, and the Role of Higher Education

    The ambush shooting of two National Guardsmen near the White House on November 27, 2025, by Rahmanullah Lakanwal, a 29-year-old Afghan national, is the latest in a growing wave of politically motivated violence that has engulfed the United States since 2024. Lakanwal opened fire on uniformed service members stationed for heightened security, wounding both. Federal authorities are investigating whether ideological motives drove the attack, which comes against a backdrop of escalating domestic and international tensions. This ambush cannot be understood in isolation. It is part of a larger pattern of domestic political violence that has claimed lives across ideological lines. 

    Conservative activist Charlie Kirk was assassinated at Utah Valley University during a campus event in September 2025. Minnesota state representative Mary Carlson and her husband were murdered in their home by a man impersonating law enforcement, while a state senator and spouse were injured in the same spree. Governor Josh Shapiro survived an arson attack on his residence earlier this year. Even Donald Trump was the target of an assassination attempt in July 2024. Added to this grim tally are incidents such as the 2025 Manhattan mass shooting, in which young professionals, including two Jewish women, Julia Hyman and Wesley LePatner, were killed, and the Luigi Mangione case, in which a former student allegedly killed a corporate executive in New York. Together, these incidents reveal a nation in which lethal violence increasingly intersects with politics, identity, and ideology.

    The domestic escalation of violence cannot be separated from broader structures of oppression. Migrants and asylum seekers face detention, family separation, and deportation under the authority of ICE, often in conditions described as inhumane, creating fear and vulnerability among refugee communities. Routine encounters with law enforcement disproportionately harm Black, Indigenous, Latinx, and other marginalized communities. Excessive force and lethal policing add to communal distrust, reinforcing perceptions that violence is a sanctioned tool of the state. Political rhetoric compounds the problem. President Trump and other political leaders have repeatedly framed immigrants, political opponents, and even students as threats to national security, implicitly legitimizing aggressive responses and providing fodder for extremist actors.

    The domestic situation is further complicated by U.S. foreign policy, which has often contributed to global instability while modeling the use of violence as an instrument of governance. In Palestine, military aid to Israel coincides with attacks on civilians and infrastructure that human-rights organizations describe as ethnic cleansing or genocide. In Venezuela, U.S. sanctions, threats, and proxy operations have intensified humanitarian crises and political instability. Complicity with the governments of the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia enables human-rights abuses abroad while emboldening domestic actors who mimic state-sanctioned violence. These global policies reverberate at home, influencing public discourse, shaping extremist narratives, and creating a climate in which political and ideological violence is increasingly normalized.

    Higher education sits at the nexus of these domestic and global pressures. Universities and colleges are not merely observers; they are active participants and, in some cases, victims. The assassination of Charlie Kirk on a campus underscores that institutions of learning are no longer insulated from lethal political conflict. Alumni, recent graduates, and professionals—such as the victims of the Manhattan shooting—are affected even after leaving school, revealing how closely academic networks intersect with broader societal risks. International and refugee students, particularly from Afghan and Middle Eastern communities, face heightened anxiety due to restrictive immigration policies, anti-immigrant rhetoric, and the real threat of violence. Faculty teaching topics related to immigration, race, U.S. foreign policy, or genocide are increasingly targeted by harassment, threats, and institutional pressures that suppress academic freedom. The cumulative stress of political violence, systemic oppression, and global conflicts creates trauma that universities must address comprehensively, both for students and faculty.

    Higher education cannot prevent every act of violence, nor can it resolve the nation’s deep political fractures. But it can model ethical and civic engagement, defending inquiry and speech without succumbing to fear or political pressure. It can extend support to vulnerable communities, promote critical thinking about the domestic roots of political violence and the consequences of U.S. foreign policy, and foster ethical reflection that counters the normalization of aggression. Silence or passivity risks complicity. Universities must recognize that the threats affecting campuses, alumni, and students are interconnected with broader systems of power and oppression, both domestic and global.

    From the White House ambush to Charlie Kirk’s assassination, from the Minnesota legislators’ murders to the Manhattan mass shooting, from Luigi Mangione’s high-profile killing to systemic violence enforced through ICE and police overreach, and amid the influence of incendiary political rhetoric and U.S. complicity in violence abroad, the United States is experiencing an unprecedented convergence of domestic and international pressures. Higher education sits at the center of these converging forces, and how it responds will shape not only campus safety and academic freedom but also the broader civic health of the nation. The challenge is immense: to uphold democratic values, protect communities, and educate students in a society increasingly defined by fear, extremism, and violence.


    Sources

    Reuters. “FBI probes gunman’s motives in ambush shooting of Guardsmen near White House.” The Guardian. Coverage on suspect identification and political reaction. AP News. Statements by national leaders following attacks. Washington Post. Analysis of domestic violent extremism and political violence trends. People Magazine. Reporting on Minnesota legislator assassination. NBC/AP. Statements by Gov. Josh Shapiro after Charlie Kirk’s killing. Utah Valley University and local ABC/Fox affiliates on the Kirk shooting. Jewish Journal, ABC7NY. Coverage of Manhattan mass shooting and Jewish victims. Reuters. Luigi Mangione case and court proceedings. Human Rights Watch / Amnesty International reports on Palestine, Venezuela, UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Russia. Brookings Institute. Analysis of political violence and domestic extremism. CSIS. “Domestic Extremism and Political Violence in the United States.”

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  • With News Decoder, students explore their role in the world

    With News Decoder, students explore their role in the world

    Back in 2020, during the height of the Covid epidemic, high school students in the U.S. state of Connecticut sat down with News Decoder founder Nelson Graves to explore a number of thorny topics that ranged from the death penalty to whether animals should be kept in zoos.

    The students in “American Voices & Choices: Ethics in Modern Society” at Westover School had been working with News Decoder since the start of that academic year, mastering the process we call Pitch, Report, Draft and Revise — or PRDR — to identify topical issues at the intersection of ethics and public policy.

    They pitched ideas they wanted to report on: teen health; police brutality; abortion; economic privilege in the environmental movement; the risks of experimental vaccines; the impact of alcohol on youth.

    Later, each student received detailed feedback from a News Decoder editor, aimed at helping them narrow their research and produce original reporting.

    Westover was an early News Decoder school partner. Since our founding 10 years ago, News Decoder has worked with high school and university students in 89 schools across 23 countries.

    Decoding news in school

    Teachers have used us as part of their course curricula, as extra credit assignments and as standalone learning opportunities for their students.

    At Realgymnasium Rämibühl Zürich in Switzerland, teacher Martin Bott brings News Decoder in each year. In one weeklong workshop, students produced podcasts. Over five days, they pitched News Decoder stories about a problem they identified in their local communities, identified an expert to interview, found how that problem was relevant to people in other countries and then wrote a podcast script, revised it and recorded it. “[News Decoder] enabled me to do a few projects which really open up perspectives for the students, give them a taste of life beyond the classroom and of the world of journalism,” Bott said. 

    In another workshop for RGZH, News Decoder turned students into “foreign correspondents.” They were tasked with finding stories in Zurich that people in other countries would find interesting. Like the students in the podcasting workshop, they then found an expert to interview, wrote a draft and revised it with the goal of publishing it on News Decoder. 

    One student in the workshop noticed a demonstration of people with dogs and got up the nerve to talk to one of them. They were from an organization that rescued Spanish greyhounds and she decided it would be a good idea for a News Decoder story. The story she wrote ended up as one of News Decoder’s most-read stories of all time.

    Not only have Bott’s students been able to publish stories on News Decoder, many of these stories, including the article about the greyhounds, have won awards in our twice yearly global storytelling competition. 

    “We’ve been delighted to get so many of those stories published on News Decoder,” Bott said. “That’s very, very motivating for the students. And it’s a wonderful learning process for them because they realise it’s not just about school rules and so on out there.”

    Challenging students to do more

    Bott said that working with professionals at News Decoder gets the students to step up. “When you’re a journalist, you’ve got a responsibility,” he said. “That’s something we’ve been able to talk about with journalists who’ve met us from various parts of the world through News Decoder. And you’ve got real pressure as well. And they’re not, I think they’re not quite used to that. So it really opens their eyes.”

    At The Hewitt School in New York, 15 teens at the all-girls school meet once a month as a club. They read and discuss News Decoder stories and pitch their own stories. They also prepare for a cross-border webinar; each year they join with students from a News Decoder partner school in another country, and decide with those students on a topic to explore. 

    They then research the topic, interview experts and come together with the students from the other school to present their findings live in a video conference before an audience of people from the two schools.

    In 2024, students from The Thacher School in California worked with peers at the European School of Brussels II on a webinar on consumerism and the human impacts of climate change. 

    Russell Spinney is faculty adviser for News Decoder at Thacher. “The webinars really were kind of ways just to get to know each other, discover that we actually do have some common interests. But not only that, that we also have problems that are similar,” he said. 

    “News Decoder’s workshops,” he said, “get students to think of ways to communicate their research beyond the classroom and connect with what’s going on in the world.” News Decoder has partnered schools this way in some 50 school-school webinars. 

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  • Higher education’s civic role has never been more important to get right

    Higher education’s civic role has never been more important to get right

    As the £4.3 million National Civic Impact Accelerator (NCIA) programme draws to a close in December, universities across the country are grappling with a fundamental question: what does sustainable civic engagement actually look like?

    After three years of momentum building and collective learning, I find myself observing the sector at a crossroads that feels both familiar and entirely new. The timing feels both urgent and opportune.

    The government’s renewed emphasis about universities’ civic role – most notably through Bridget Phillipson’s explicit call for institutions to “play a greater civic role in their communities” creates opportunity and expectation. Yet this arrives at a challenging time for universities, with 43 per cent of England’s institutions facing deficits this year.

    Despite this supportive policy context, I still find myself having conversations like, “but what exactly is civic?”, “is civic the right word?” or – most worryingly – “we can’t afford this anymore.”

    As universities face their most challenging financial circumstances in decades, we need to be bolder, clearer, and more precise about demonstrating our value to places and communities, across everything we do.

    Determination

    Instead of treating place-responsive work as a competition on some imagined league table or trying to redefine the term to fit the status quo, we need to come together to demonstrate our value to society collectively. But perhaps most importantly, we need to commit to reflect and do better despite the financial challenges.

    This isn’t about pinning down a narrow, one-size-fits-all definition and enforcing uniformity. Instead, it’s about recognising and valuing the diversity of place-responsive approaches seen across the country. From the University of Kent’s Right to Food programme to Anglia Ruskin University’s co-creation approach to voluntary student social impact projects. From Dundee’s Art at the Start project to support infant mental health and address inequalities, to how Birmingham City University is supporting local achievement of net-zero ambitions through their climate literacy bootcamps.

    Sometimes, it means making tough choices to reimagine how these valuable ways of working can be embedded across everything we do. Sometimes it means making this work visible, using a shared language to bring coherence – and crucially – committing, even in tough times, to honest reflection on our practice and a determination to keep improving.

    The waypoint moment

    I’ve found it helpful to describe civic engagement as an expedition. Most of us can imagine some kind of destination for our civic ambitions – perhaps obscured by clouds – with many paths before us, lots of different terrains, and a few hazards on the trail.

    Through the NCIA’s work – led by Sheffield Hallam University in partnership with the National Coordinating Centre for Public Engagement (NCCPE), the Institute for Community Studies, City-REDI, and Queen Mary University of London – we’ve distilled three years of intensive evidence gathering and experimentation into fourteen practical “waypoints” for civic engagement, now launching as part of our Civic Field Guide (currently in Beta version).

    These aren’t just statements – they’re navigation signals based on well-trodden paths from fellow explorers. They come with a bespoke set of tools, ideas and options to deal with the terrain ahead.

    You can think of them like those reassuring signs on coastal walks. Helping you understand where you are and what direction you’re heading but giving you freedom to explore or take a detour.

    Take our waypoint on measuring civic impact. It encourages universities to develop evaluation systems that can document progress quantitatively, alongside the rich narratives that illustrate how civic initiatives transform real lives and strengthen community capacity. It draws on examples from universities that have tried to tackle this challenge, acknowledging both their successes and the obstacles they’ve encountered, whilst offering practical tools, frameworks and actionable guidance. But it deliberately avoids prescribing a one-size-fits-all measurement approach. Because every place has different needs, ambitions and challenges. Both the civic work itself and how we measure it must be tailored to the unique character of our places and communities.

    Our waypoints cover everything from embedding civic engagement as a core institutional mission to navigating complex policy landscapes. They address the “passion trap” that many of us might recognise, where civic work is reliant on a few individual champions rather than an institutional culture. They tackle issues of partnership development, cultivating active citizenship, and contributing to regional policymaking.

    Perhaps most importantly, they recognise that authentic civic engagement isn’t about universities doing things to or even for their places, it’s about embracing other anchor institutions, competitors, businesses and communities as equal partners throughout the entire process of identifying needs, designing solutions, and implementing change.

    This often means decentring the university from the relationship. Some of the strongest partnerships start with universities asking not “what can we do for you?” but “what are you already trying to achieve, and how might we contribute?”.

    The embedding challenge

    James Coe’s recent thoughts on how to save the civic agenda challenged us all to think about how universities move beyond “civic-washing” to genuine transformation. The NCIA’s evidence suggests the answer lies in weaving civic responsibility into everything we do, not just the obvious.

    Being civic means thinking about procurement policies that support local businesses. It means campus facilities genuinely accessible to community groups. It means research questions shaped by community priorities, not just academic curiosity. It means student placements that address local challenges whilst developing skills and confidence.

    Such as at the University of Derby. Their CivicLAB supports academics, students and the community to share insights on research and practice through a place-based approach to knowledge generation. Located centrally within the university, this interdisciplinary group cuts across research, innovation, teaching, and learning. Established in late 2020, CivicLAB has already created civic opportunities for over 14,600 staff, students and external stakeholders and members of the public.

    The civic question also means responding to the sceptics with evidence: demonstrating how place-based engagement creates richer contexts for research and more meaningful experiences for students; showing how equitable partnerships, far from distracting from core academic work, can actually enhance teaching and scholarship; and providing examples of how civic engagement has strengthened global excellence, helping local communities connect their priorities and assets to broader movements and opportunities.

    The future of civic engagement

    At CiviCon25 – our national, flagship conference which took place in Sheffield last month – we brought together civic university practitioners, engaged scholars, senior leaders and community partners to wrestle with the challenges that will shape the next decade of civic engagement.

    Our theme of “where ideas meet impact” captured something fundamental about our work: too often in higher education, brilliant ideas never quite make it into practice, or practice develops in isolation from the best thinking. We sometimes get stuck reinventing the wheel, endlessly debating definitions instead of delivering for our communities.

    But something different is happening now. A new generation of determined, ambitious civic universities are leading this movement forward, and I’ve been privileged to witness their journeys first-hand. They’ve been extraordinarily generous. Sharing what’s worked, being honest about setbacks, and helping others navigate the same challenges many of them faced alone. It’s their insights, experiments, and wisdom that have shaped the NCIA’s fourteen waypoints.

    As the NCIA draws to its scheduled conclusion, there’s something bittersweet about this moment. The infrastructure exists. The evidence is compelling. The policy environment has never been more supportive. But whatever happens next, we need to demonstrate our value to society collectively and commit to reflect and do better despite the financial challenges.

    The civic trail will always have its hazards. We’ve learned that much. But with good maps, experienced guides, and companions who share the commitment to reach the destination, these hazards become navigable challenges rather than insurmountable barriers.

    The fourteen waypoints offer the higher education sector a map and compass. Not every university need follow this path, but those that choose civic engagement as core mission must commit fully to the patient work of institutional change, equitable partnership building, and community-led impact.

    The trail is well marked now. The question is: who else will join the journey?

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  • The Expanding Role of Nurses in Rural Communities

    The Expanding Role of Nurses in Rural Communities

    Showcasing the opportunities offered as a nurse generalist has the potential to positively impact the recruitment and retention of nurses for rural communities.

    Rural nursing offers a unique and rewarding career path for nurse generalists who are seeking diverse experiences, greater autonomy, and the chance to make a meaningful impact in rural communities. Unlike nurses in urban or specialized settings, nurse generalists in rural areas often provide a wide range of services across the lifespan. 

    More experience and greater responsibility

    One of the most significant opportunities for nurse generalists in rural settings is the breadth of practice. In smaller, rural hospitals or clinics, nurse generalists are often required to work across multiple specialties such as pediatrics, geriatrics, emergency care, medical-surgical nursing, and women’s health, sometimes all within the same shift. This broad exposure allows nurses to build a versatile clinical skill set and develop confidence in managing a wide variety of conditions. For those who thrive on variety and lifelong learning, rural nursing can be deeply satisfying.

    Rural healthcare environments also often have fewer healthcare professionals available, which means nurse generalists frequently take on leadership roles and function with a high level of independence. Nurses may be responsible for initial assessments, treatment planning, health education, and follow-up care with less direct oversight from physicians. This autonomy not only builds critical thinking and decision-making skills but also prepares nurse generalists for advanced roles such as nurse practitioner, clinical leader, or rural health administrator.

    Connection, creativity, and compensation

    One of the most fulfilling aspects of rural nursing is the close connection to the community. Nurse generalists often serve patients they know personally, which fosters trust and long-term relationships. This community integration positions nurses as trusted health advocates, educators, and role models. The ability to see the direct impact of one’s work on individuals, families, and the community provides a unique level of professional and personal satisfaction that is sometimes harder to find in larger, urban settings.

    In rural settings, limited resources and workforce shortages often require creative problem-solving and innovation. Nurse generalists are uniquely positioned to influence care models by suggesting process improvements, initiating community health programs, or integrating technology such as telehealth into patient care. Rural healthcare organizations often welcome these innovations, and nurse generalists may find it easier to get involved in policymaking, grant writing, or quality improvement initiatives that have immediate and tangible results.

    Due to the challenges of attracting and retaining healthcare professionals in rural areas, many regions also offer incentives for nurse generalists willing to work in underserved locations. These may include loan forgiveness programs, housing stipends, relocation assistance, or sign-on bonuses. Additionally, the rural setting can provide a solid foundation for future advancement, whether through graduate education or leadership roles. The broad experience gained as a rural generalist is highly valued in both rural and urban healthcare systems.

    A dynamic and meaningful career

    While rural nursing does come with its challenges, such as professional isolation, limited resources, and fewer immediate specialist referrals, many nurse generalists find that these obstacles are outweighed by the deep sense of purpose and professional growth they experience. The need to be resourceful, adaptable, and compassionate often leads to a stronger sense of resilience and a deeper commitment to nursing as a vocation.

    For nurse generalists seeking a dynamic and meaningful career, rural nursing presents a wealth of opportunities. It allows for a diverse clinical practice, encourages leadership and autonomy, fosters deep community relationships, and offers avenues for personal and professional growth. Rural nurse generalists not only broaden their own skills and experiences but also contribute significantly to closing the healthcare gap in rural communities.

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