A university president is by definition not a scholar. A scholar reads and thinks all day. Or stares into a microscope and thinks. Or stares at equations and thinks. You can’t spend all day in meetings and at events and be a scholar. When are you going to think? Your whole life is going to be about sitting in rooms with uninteresting people and saying uninteresting things.
These academic bureaucrats are dime-a-dozen paper-pushers, so it’s not surprising they get chosen on the basis of how they look. They’ve got nothing else to offer. Several years ago, I told on this blog the story of my university’s equivalent of Claudine Gay who once regaled me with a story of how she went to China to a “Women in Leadership” conference and was shocked to discover that people there speak Chinese. “The whole country!” the woman in leadership chirped excitedly. “They all speak Chinese! We needed an interpreter because the people there? They speak like a whole different language!”
I was supposed to be particularly appreciative of this story because I’d said I was in foreign languages. We called this administrator “the Botox lady.” Out of sheer kindness, I spared the poor woman what would have been crushing news about Mandarin and Cantonese. She had degrees in “Community Building and Educational Leadership” and quoted Sheryl Sandberg. You can’t overload brains of this caliber with too much information.
Another top-level university administrator responded to my proposal that we teach American Sign Language with a story about a former boyfriend who once had a foot injury and had to use crutches. The point of the story was to illustrate that this administrator was very aware of the plight of the disabled. As the story progressed, I developed very strong eye muscles trying to keep my eyes from rolling all the way into the back of my head.
Yet another administrator listened to an angry question from a representative of the janitorial stuff who said that most workers are so underpaid they need a second job to make ends meet and responded with, “So on Sunday I was meeting with another university president and we went for breakfast to this restaurant – it was really fancy, like, a really good, expensive restaurant. . .” The story went on and on and I kind of lost the thread of what the administrator was trying to say. Janitorial workers didn’t like the story either. They heckled the fancy admin and the student newspaper branded them as racists the next day.
I mean, the fellow stands up in his $3,000 shoes in front of a bunch of angry janitors and chirps excitedly about going to a fancy Sunday breakfast with another rich dude. These are stupid people, my friends, stupid.
In short, nothing will surprise me when it comes from university presidents.