This is my first opportunity to speak to a large gathering of colleagues at KU. Let me begin by thanking you for the opportunity to join you. This is a university of distinction and achievement, and it is an honor to be on its faculty.
Kansas has been a series of delightful discoveries thus far. I was fortunate to be able to go with Don Steeples and Margy Frederick on the Wheat State Whirlwind Tour. I was surprised to see the beauty and variety of the Kansas landscape—it is neither flat nor boring. I was amazed by the rich esthetic expressions found everywhere—even in very small towns in Kansas. On campus, I have been impressed by the consistently high quality of people I have encountered—faculty and staff. This is a fine place: much better than most of us—on campus and off—realize.
We are entering the fifth year of a five-year tuition enhancement plan. This plan has given KU some breathing room—for the first time in a long time. I find it remarkable and salutary that this plan is the result, as much as anything, of the students own understanding of the need for additional revenues for KU. This speaks well for the sophistication of our students and for the clarity with which you have communicated with them.
We are currently investigating –again at the students' impetus—the development of a "guaranteed tuition plan" that will provide some measure of predictability for the price of a KU education. Under such a plan we would provide a price for tuition that would be fixed for four years. The entering freshman class would pay that amount during their four years as undergraduates. The next freshman class would pay at a slightly different rate, but they would have that rate guaranteed to them for their four years, and so on. Each cohort would have a fixed rate. Each cohort would have four years in which to graduate under this plan. Students taking longer (unless required by their specific program) would pay tuition at the rate of the most recent cohort—in other words, the price would go up significantly for those taking more than four years to graduate. The cost of a fifth year of education is large—not only for the tuition and fees, but for the foregone income of the first year of employment.
Tuition is a sensitive topic. No one likes increases in tuition. If I had my way, tuition would be effectively zero as it was for most us of a certain age when we were undergraduates at public institutions. Much of the argument against tuition increases focuses on the financial circumstances of our students. We are all driven by anecdote when we talk about the financial needs of students. The press, our neighbors, our colleagues, and our own experience generate stories that tell of crushing debt for undergraduates, cruelly long work hours in part-time jobs for beginning students, the necessity to take five, six, or even seven years to finish because of the financial challenges of paying for school. There can be no doubt that some of these anecdotes are grounded in truth, but it is important for us all to have the fullest possible picture of our students' circumstances. This is important for university tuition policy, but it is also important for us as teachers and counselors of these people for whom we have significant responsibility. Deb Teeter and her colleagues in the Office of Institutional Research and Planning (one of the finest such operations in the United States, by the way) conducted a survey of our students' financial circumstances last spring. What they found was fascinating and illuminating. We are still digesting some of the data for its implications for a range of issues.
I will share one dimension of the survey results with you to give you some sense of how important it is to have the full picture when dealing with issues like tuition. Let me ask each of you to estimate what the median debt of graduating seniors is at KU. (PAUSE) The median educational debt of seniors at KU is zero—nothing. 56% of seniors have no loan debt. Of those 44% who have debt, the average amount is $16,359—below the national average. These facts, like any others must be placed in the fullest possible context in order to be useful for policy, but, I think that you will admit, they are surprising and interesting. And they will inform the discussion of our proposals regarding guaranteed tuition.
Another issue the Chancellor and I intend to focus on is that of student retention. We lose 18% of our freshman class each year. That is too high a rate of loss. It is a waste of your efforts, of institutional resources, and deleterious to the students who do not make it past their first year. I am convinced that a key component in this is the admission process. As you know, the state of Kansas is in the odd position of having admission standards to its institutions of higher education determined by the legislature. Moreover, there is a single set of admission standards for all state institutions regardless of the institution's mission. We need to think about that. KU needs to have the freedom to shape our entering classes to the optimum benefit. We must be able to look at the entire student file and make a judgment about the suitability of a student's admission to KU. We cannot be bound by one or two metrics. The truth that we all recognize is that students learn as much from one another as they learn from the faculty. We must have the freedom to shape our entering class to insure (1) that every student admitted has the ability to succeed here and (2) that we have the richest possible mixture of students—this means regional, socio-economic, racial, ethnic, experiential, gender, talent and other forms of diversity. This will enhance the educational value of attending KU enormously.
Diversity is of high importance. Diversity is important not for the nose-counting reporting of statistics, but because it helps us to push the envelope of knowledge. Every aspect of what we do—teaching, research, or service—that is improved by insuring that our community is diverse. That very diversity brings to each question, to every activity a richer, more complete set of perspectives which inevitably lead to a richer and more complete set of ideas—and ideas are our stock in trade. For the Chancellor and for me, one important measure of the effectiveness of admissions, colleges, schools, and departments is their respective attention to diversity—among the student body, the faculty and the staff.
I have spoken about students and our community and ways that we can improve KU by focusing on them, but now I want to speak about the one dimension that determines more of a university's destiny than any other—you, the faculty. All the money in the world, the greatest administrative vision, the most dedicated alumni, and the brightest students cannot make a university successful without a brilliant faculty. It is the sine qua non for an institution's success. Luckily for KU, we start out ahead of the pack in this regard. This is, judging from my limited experience thus far, a brilliant faculty. Some of you are new to this faculty and to the leadership role that it entails. Let me remind you of the bargain you have entered in to with us. This is a research university. Doing research is your first responsibility. The University provides salary and support in significant quantities to enable you to do what you have told us you value very highly—your research. In addition to enough money to keep the wolf from the door, we afford you with large amounts of free time to conduct your research. In exchange for providing you with money, support and time, we expect that you will make significant new discoveries throughout your career. This is hard work, but merely making those discoveries is not adequate. You must share them with the wider world, and we require that you do this in two ways: publish your discoveries so that they will have an impact nationally and internationally; and bring your discoveries into the classroom so as to have an impact on your students. Both of these are required for a successful career.
KU must continue to make strides in the area of funded research. Obviously, the revenue that such research generates is important to the operation of the place. But the validation of the peer review process is vital as well. Whether the grant that you have been awarded is for $1 million or $1000, it is confirmation of the quality and direction of your work. This makes getting grants very important for your individual career. I promise that we will strive to make our infrastructure--through KUCR, the Med Center's Research Institute and other offices--user friendly and effective at helping you get those grants. But the best advice I can give you in this arena is to seek the counsel and coaching of those with proven track-records. KU is blessed with a great many such colleagues. Start at www.distinguishedprofessors.ku.edu. Seek out Mabel Rice, Tom Taylor, Prasad Gogineni, Val Stella, Joane Nagel, Susan Harris, Barbara Timmerman, or Bill Barnett just to name a few of these folks whom I have met so far. Your colleagues are invaluable sources of aid and assistance in this crucial business of seeking grant support. Use their experience and their wisdom.
One the challenges that we face as an institution is letting the rest of the world know about the excitement in this place: we save lives and we transform lives. We shape the understanding of the world, and, in some cases, the universe. But most people don't know about this. This is largely our own fault. Academics have been notoriously ineffective in conveying the importance of our work to the intelligent audiences inclined to care about what we do. I want your help in getting this message about KU's value to the world out to the world.
I want every one of you to be able to tell me why you are here. I don't just mean why you are at KU. I mean, why do you do what you do? I know for a certainty that you don't do it for the money. I know with a high degree of confidence that you do it because you are passionately interested in your work. You are passionate enough to have foregone more lucrative pursuits. You are passionate enough to use all available free moments to work in the lab or library to make incremental steps toward a fuller understanding of the object of your study. Why does this matter? Why should anyone care about what you do? What is it about your work that is worth the investment of your life?
I know that you are animated by passion for what you do. The work is too rigorous, too little recognized, too difficult to be done without passion. I want access to that passion. I want to see your passion. I want to hear about it. I want you to make it accessible and comprehensible to your students. Nothing attracts students to learning more than seeing the passion that it elicits in their teachers. Help me to make your passion visible and comprehensible to the larger world. There is little that is more attractive about this profession.
I have asked each Dean to provide me with a statement—a succinct and elegant statement—that explains why their school exists at KU. I want such a statement from each department. I want each of you to be able to state why YOU are here. I want each of us to be able to articulate clearly and succinctly why our work matters to the people of the state, the country, and the world. Asking you to clearly and succinctly state why your work matters in the world is not just an airy exercise. It is an essential first step in insuring that we are masters of our own destiny in the academy. If we cannot effectively explain why our work matters to larger audiences beyond the campus, they will decide for themselves how or even if we matter. If we cannot effectively articulate what the outcomes and metrics are for students who study with us, others will do so. I have a great deal of confidence in your ability to tell us what students should know, what students should be able to do, and what the indicators are that they have achieved these goals. I trust that you will do this and do it well.
But make no mistake—if you don't do this, someone will do it for you. We are in a moment when the entire discourse about higher education is laced with expressions of distrust. There are strong—perhaps irresistible—forces that would like nothing more than to settle the question of what should be taught, why and what outcomes will be measured. I do not trust others to make these determinations. I trust you to do this. No one can do it better than you. But you MUST do it.
I have asked you to tell me why you are here. It is only fair that I tell you why I am here. I will confess to a touch of trepidation about this. Such a statement makes one vulnerable to the cynicism and jaded doubt that are often the by-products of critical thinking. Still, fair is fair.
I became a Professor of Sanskrit to better understand what it means to be a human being. This is, for me, the ultimate question. How do we extract meaning from our daily lives? If we are not merely walking alimentary canals, what is the value of our existence? How do we make sense of the wonders that surround us in the form of emotions, language, affections, children, music, laughter, art, and love. What is death? Simple exhaustion of biological function? Is there more to it? Should we be afraid? And, as Woody Allen wondered, "If there is an afterlife, are there tolls. Do we need to bring a change of underwear?"
With the exception of Woody Allen's questions, India has engaged all of these in its rich literary tradition
I have been particularly interested in the relationship between law and religion and how those two factors shape a society so aware of and reflective on the human condition. I studied India because it is one of the richest sources for reflection by brilliant minds on what it means to be a human being: opulent wealth along side abject poverty, an ancient caste system alongside great political and economic insight ...these issues still resonate with me.
So here I am in this administrative role and at KU and—because I am involved in your work-- I still grapple with issues that affect humanity on a large scale. I do this—and forgive me for sounding a little corny—for America. I feel a large debt to this society for what it has done for me, but I feel that debt just as much for what it does for the millions of other beneficiaries of public higher education. This is an imperfect country and an imperfect society, but no country, no civilization has ever done what the United States has done to make higher education accessible to so many of its citizens. It is a history of visionary and inspired confidence in higher education.
Think back to two moments in the country's history that are particularly telling. 1862 may have been the darkest moment in the national history. It was not at all clear that the Union would survive. The North had lost every major battle in that cruel, bloody Civil War. The North was militarily inept. Lincoln was floundering and desperate. He was arresting editors of newspapers, interfering with the distribution of newspapers, suspending habeas corpus. The government was spiraling in debt; the income tax had just been imposed for the first time in history. And yet, the people of the country had the confidence, the vision to pass the Morrill act and create a network of public higher education institutions the like of which no country had ever contemplated.
Again, in 1944, the country expressed its confidence in the transforming power of higher education by the passage of the GI Bill. This measure did more, in my view, to propel the US into world economic leadership than any other single policy of the US government in the last century. In both instances, the US invested in its most important and abundant natural resource—the minds of its citizens.
I am able to be here with you today because I received an excellent, heavily subsidized education from the people of this country. I see these institutions of higher education as the country's, and the world's greatest source of hope. I want to invest what skills and talents I have to promote the fortunes of one of the great public institutions that has grown out of the national interest in higher education—the University of Kansas.
We are heirs to and trustees of a visionary investment. Working in this national legacy is a rare privilege coveted throughout the world. Working at the level of excellence represented by KU is an honor for me. Can we do better? Can we improve ourselves and this institution? I am confident that we can. But I know that we will only do so if you share your passion widely and openly. As a newcomer among you, I pledge to you -- all the energy, vision and hard work of which I am capable to help you to meet the challenges that confront us all.
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