Dear Mr. President…

Dear President Obama:

I watched your State of the Union Address last night. It was a pretty good one. It could have been much shorter, and your spilled milk joke didn’t go over too well (despite Rep. Jason Chaffetz’s air-rimshot). But I do thank you for placing education, and higher education in particular, so prominently in the national spotlight during your speech.

It encouraged me to hear you call for more job-training programs at community colleges, extending the tuition tax credit and doubling Federal Work Study jobs. These are good programs that can help make college more affordable for students. I was also happy that you asked Congress to hold the line on increasing interest rates on student loans. And as someone who works for a research university, I was thrilled that you called on Congress to spare the ax when it comes to basic research funding.

“Innovation also demands basic research,” you said. “Today, the discoveries taking place in our federally financed labs and universities could lead to new treatments that kill cancer cells but leave healthy ones untouched. New lightweight vests for cops and soldiers that can stop any bullet. Don’t gut these investments in our budget. Don’t let other countries win the race for the future. Support the same kind of research and innovation that led to the computer chip and the Internet; to new American jobs and new American industries.”

Good stuff, that.

But before you got to that research bit, you issued a stern warning to public higher education. You put us “on notice” that the government would not continue to “subsidize skyrocketing tuition.”

You told us:

If you can’t stop tuition from going up, the funding you get from taxpayers will go down. Higher education can’t be a luxury, it is an economic imperative that every family should be able to afford.

Mr. President, we know that you want to increase the U.S. college graduation rate from 40 percent to 60 percent by 2020. We understand that you see higher education as a greater good to society.

But, Mr. President, I have to ask you: How much lower can public funding for this greater good to society go before public higher education becomes more or less privatized, and as a result, becomes exactly that “luxury” you oppose?

Let me give you an example to ponder.

Here in my state, Gov. Jay Nixon gave a similar speech to the Missouri legislature last week, and he sounded many of the same themes as you. He wants Missouri to be more competitive economically, and he wants Missourians to have affordable access to a college education. “In another challenging budget year,” Nixon said, “our top priorities in funding for higher education must continue to be high-quality academic programs and student scholarships.”

But he also said that “to balance our budget in a way that protects our scholarships and academic programs, I am calling on all our colleges and universities to continue to look for more ways to cut overhead and administrative costs and run smarter, more efficient operations.”

What he didn’t say in his speech, but was widely reported by the news media, was that he was presenting a budget that cuts public higher education in Missouri by 12.5 percent.

That would take us back to 1997 funding levels, Mr. President. 1997, when the state of the art of the Internet was the Mosaic browser, and the Pentium II was the new standard for computer processing speed.

Mr. President, we cannot afford as a nation to educate tomorrow’s students at 1997 levels. If we do, where are all of these Class of ’97 graduates going to work in tomorrow’s economy?

I’m not saying we in higher education can’t become more efficient. I think we can. A fellow higher ed blogger, Chas Grundy, also thinks higher education institutions can and should become more efficient.

But I think many colleges and universities are more efficient than you, Mr. Nixon or many other political leaders give us credit for.

Also, if you want cutting-edge research, you’re going to have to allow for some inefficiencies. Experimentation and innovation can sometimes be messy.

At the beginning of your speech, Mr. President, you talked about how you made the tough decision to bail out the U.S. automakers. And how, as a result of that tough, at times unpopular, decision, the U.S. auto industry has made a comeback in the global marketplace.

You say you want U.S. college graduation rates to be the best in the world. But it sounds like you want us to do it on the cheap.

I’m not asking for a bailout of public higher education, Mr. President. We as a nation can’t afford another bailout, even if it makes us No. 1 in whatever.

I’m just asking for support of a public good at a level that will ensure our nation’s students will graduate with the abilities, knowledge and skills they need to make this country great.

God bless you, Mr. President. And God bless the United States of America.

Sincerely,

Andrew P. Careaga

Repost: Marketing (and life) lessons from Martin Luther King Jr.

This post originally appeared on this blog on Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2009, under the title Media relations, taking the long view and other lessons from Martin Luther King Jr.. MLK Jr. Day 2009 also coincided with the eve of President Obama’s inauguration, so references to that event have been deleted in an attempt to keep this post relevant. I hope it gives you pause to reflect on how you live your life and approach your most meaningful work. – AC

As our nation honors the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. today with a national holiday, I pause to consider a bit how King’s worldview and moral stance against evil has influenced my own life.

I’m in no way attempting to compare my life with King’s, for I’m no civil rights leader, no martyr, no leader of any consequence by comparison. But I’ve long admired King not only for his leadership in civil rights, but more for his clarity of vision in the sense of moral and spiritual matters, as well as his PR savvy. The fact that he understood and used mass media to his advantage should not be separated from King’s quest for justice and equality, but it does point to the man’s ability to use the tools and systems of the temporal world to further more idealistic goals, and that’s something any of us who work with the media ought to understand.

One of the most poignant (brief) commentaries on King’s life that I’ve read comes from Philip Yancey’s book Soul Survivor: How My Faith Survived the Church. Yancey was a good ol’ Georgia boy when the civil rights movement started gaining traction in the early 1960s.

“When I was in high school,” he writes, “the same students who cheered the news of President Kenedy’s assassination also cheered King’s televised encounters with Southern sheriffs, police dogs, and water cannons. Little did we know that by doing so we were playing directly into King’s strategy.”

That strategy, from a media relations standpoint, was brilliant, for it opened the nation’s eyes to the tragedy and brutality of racism. “He deliberately sought out individuals like Sheriff Bull Connor and stage-managed scenes of confrontation, accepting jail, beatings, and other brutalities, because he believed a complacent nation would rally around his cause only when they saw the evil of racism manifest in its ugliest extreme.

“In that goal,” Yancey writes, “King succeeded spectacularly.”

But separated from what Yancey calls King’s “long view of faith,” that media relations success would have rung hollow.

“Already convinced of the justness of their cause,” Yancey writes, the civil rights workers “wanted someone to lift their sights beyond the long string of disheartening failures.” King, with his long view that justice will triumph, was the man to do just that.

We now look back on the civil rights movement as a steady tidal surge toward victory. At the time, facing daily confrontations with the power structure and under constant intimidation from policemen, judges, and even the FBI, civil rights workers had no assurance of victory. We forget how many nights they spent in rank southern jails. Most of the time the present looked impossibly bleak, the future even bleaker. …

For King, the long view meant remembering that, no matter how things appear at any given moment, God reigns. Later, when the famous march from Selma finally made it to the state capitol, the building which once served as the capitol of the Confederacy and from which the rebel flag still flew, King addressed those scarred and weary marchers from the steps:

I know that you are asking today, “How long will it take?” I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because truth pressed to earth will rise again. …

* * *

It seems the long view has been in short supply in our culture for many years. Witness what has happened on Wall Street, in our banking industry, and just about everywhere else you look in our culture, and you see the fruits of short-term, get-what-you-can-while-you-can thinking. Even in our educational system, sadly, the short view too often reigns. We live from fiscal year to fiscal year, from project to project. Even our long-range plans extend no further than five years out, and the goals are largely based on numbers, rather than the essentials King spoke of — the essentials of peace, justice and love.

What about us? Do we connect our day-to-day actions, our work? Our lives, to a greater, nobler cause? Those of us in higher education ought to. It’s pretty easy, really. We’re in one of the most noble pursuits there is. I’m fond of quoting William Butler Yeats, who supposedly said that “education is not the filling of a bucket, but the lighting of a fire.” On my better days, I like to think that what I do helps to fan those flames of knowledge.

I can’t say I’ve always done the best job of taking the long view, or for contributing to King’s ideal of a world in which peace, justice and love reign. But re-reading Yancey’s chapter on MLK has reinvigorated me and encouraged me to think more about the long view — in my job, in my life, in my other pursuits. I hope this post encourages you to do the same.