In the first part of this series, I described the president-elect and new president phases of the presidential journey. These are the opening acts, with leaders waiting in the wings before stepping onstage to establish their presence. In this part of the series, I turn to the next two phases. Here, the leader takes center stage, where the spotlight shines brightly. At times, that light highlights the positive results the president is helping to deliver. At other times, it casts a harsh glare on decisions that are difficult to make and even harder to accept.
Phase 3. The President — Settling in and delivering on aims and intentions
Timing
This phase generally begins after your first full academic year (or thereabouts) and can last several years. It’s the stretch when the novelty—and perhaps a bit of the goodwill—wears off. As expected, you now need to deliver measurable results across myriad areas that are not always in sync with each other.
Description
The prefix “new” is gone. You are now the president. On some campuses you alone are seen as the administration. By either name, you hold both the authority and the accountability that come with the title.
In this phase, faculty, staff, students, alumni, and the board expect you to follow through on intentions, advance strategic priorities, and solve problems—some of which may have lingered for decades. The broader community looks to you to improve “town-gown” relationships. Business leaders expect you to position the university as an economic driver and, perhaps, a hub for cultural activity.
This is the point where you routinely translate your leadership philosophy to the concrete practices associated with shared governance, enrollment management, revenue diversification, the student learning experience, community partnerships, and more.
Common Activities
During this phase, you typically:
- Design or refine and implement the strategic plan.
- Build multi-year budget scenarios.
- Negotiate contracts that generate external funding or internal savings (leases, summer conferences, outsourcing services).
- Restructure or expand shared governance, ensuring that faculty, staff, and students all have a formal seat at decision-making tables.
- Work with your cabinet and other stakeholders to make structural or personnel changes (combining academic departments, adding or eliminating satellite campuses, rearranging vice-presidential portfolios).
Real-Life Example
In 2020, eight presidents I know took office just as the pandemic upended enrollment patterns. Three of these leaders inherited institutions that had long enjoyed stable or rising net tuition revenue. Their predecessors had never needed multi-year budget scenarios; single-year planning had always been sufficient.
That changed overnight at each of these places. Fall 2020 enrollments dropped sharply due to COVID restrictions, and for the first time ever, the boards required their new presidents to produce three- or four-year budget projections. At each university, the task created significant strain among vice presidents and their teams, who were suddenly asked to identify enrollment and fundraising targets in a time of deep uncertainty.
When the final enrollments fell short of budgeted projections, the three boards reacted differently. Two adopted a “wait and see” approach, allowing their presidents time to adapt to the changing environment and the missed target. The third board asked the new president to immediately reduce expenses to align with the lower revenues. The outcomes diverged: the presidents who were given the time to plan for strategic reductions were relatively well received. The one who was forced to make immediate cuts within her first six months got off to a rocky start, and the path was bumpy throughout her tenure.
Phase 4. The “Damn” President — Making hard, necessary calls that are not popular
Timing
This phase can surface at any point after the honeymoon period. Ideally, a president spends a meaningful stretch of time in the more routine “president” phase before this one begins. Yet, with the internal and external headwinds buffeting universities nationwide, this phase often arrives far too soon for many of today’s leaders. It emerges when the president finds themself at the helm as a crisis unfolds or an unexpected change takes precedence. In these moments, the leader is thrust into an even brighter spotlight and expected to make difficult decisions that inevitably unsettle some portion of the broader community. Depending on the scope of the challenges, this phase may last months—or even years.
Description
This is the phase that tests your resolve. The early goodwill has faded. The easy wins are behind you. Now you face decisions that will define your presidency—and in some cases, your legacy.
Common Activities
In this phase, you may be called upon to:
- Address structural deficits or market shifts.
- Close under-enrolled programs or cut faculty lines.
- Realign administrative functions or reallocate resources to programs and services that have a high return on investment.
- Navigate high-stakes legal cases where “both sides” speak loudly and often.
Every move is scrutinized. Even the most well-intentioned decisions may spark anger, protest, or mistrust.
Real-Life Example
I recall one leader who inherited a campus with a lopsided approach to shared governance. Faculty had both voice and vote at key decision-making tables—including the governing board itself—while staff and students had no formal role at all.
The board asked the new president to re-examine the governance model to make it more inclusive. In response, he created a representative advisory task force including board members, administrators, faculty, staff, and students. He also engaged two sets of consultants: one specializing in shared governance and another in higher-education law. Together, they gathered campus input, reviewed industry best practices, and drafted recommendations for the president and board.
All but one of the recommendations were endorsed unanimously by the task force. The consultants advised shifting the “faculty trustee” to a “faculty advisor” role, removing the vote but preserving voice, and creating the same advisory seats for staff and students. The faculty on the task force balked at this recommendation while others found it quite reasonable. The recommendation went forward to the board, which voted overwhelmingly, to enact the change.
For the president, however, it marked the start of a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” era. Faculty felt sidelined, even as staff and students celebrated inclusion. The decision defined this leader’s tenure, which lasted just four years.
Frequently Asked Questions
What happens after the “honeymoon phase” of a university presidency ends?
Expectations shift from promise to proof. The “new” label drops, and presidents are expected to deliver measurable results across key operational and strategic areas including these: budget, enrollment, fundraising, revenue diversification, governance, and community partnerships.
Because the “rubber meets the road” in this phase, the roles assumed by key players—such as the board, the president, the provost, and the faculty—are clarified and differentiated in practice, not just in theory. If the president needs to make tweaks to role responsibilities, this can accelerate the beginning of the “damn president” phase (discussed here in this FAQ).
How do presidents manage competing demands from faculty, staff, students, and boards?
Having a broadly understood and embraced definition of shared governance is the first step to managing competing demands. Sometimes, such a definition already exists; other times it must be co-created. One of the best and boldest examples I have seen is the definition jointly crafted at California Lutheran University by faculty, staff, students, administrators, and board members:
Shared governance is a values-based system that facilitates and clarifies the complementary responsibilities that constituents assume in identifying, aligning, and implementing routine processes and strategic priorities. At Cal Lutheran, this system is designed to advance the university’s mission and promote a common good that prioritizes student learning and the student experience. This definition is accompanied by a decision-making matrix co-created by a broad swath of the university community.
Why is multi-year budget planning so important for higher education leaders?
Single-year budgeting—especially at tuition-driven institutions with small endowments and limited discretionary funds—has become a high-risk approach to financial management. Volatile enrollments, rising personnel and benefit costs, the temporary boost from the Higher Education Emergency Relief Fund (HEERF), and frequent policy shifts with unfunded mandates all point to the need for multi-year, scenario-based plans.
These plans should bring many managers to the table and require them to record revenue projections and expenses for at least three years. Granted, projections will change over time. But the exercise of populating expense and revenue lines itself is illuminating. Both those who enter the numbers and those who interpret them will better understand the university’s current and future financial positions.
What structural changes might a president consider in this phase?
Common moves include: reorganizing academic units, consolidating or redefining administrative portfolios, adding entry- and mid-level student support positions (such as advisors), reconfiguring incentive programs to reward performance, and bolstering accountability systems. Leaders should also strengthen town–gown relationships that position the university as a regional driver of workforce development.
How do external crises, like a pandemic, affect a president’s ability to lead?
Crises compress timelines and force rapid decision-making in an industry that has long valued process, inclusivity, and deliberation. In early 2020, universities across the country pivoted almost overnight to online instruction. In many cases, these decisions were made and communicated before faculty could be consulted—a pace wholly uncharacteristic of higher education. Not surprisingly, both the processes and outcomes were poorly received at a good number of those institutions.
The following year brought additional pandemic-related challenges, most notably significant enrollment declines. Presidents were then tasked with aligning expenses to reduced tuition revenue, which often required deep budget cuts.
Leading—and living through—major cuts is difficult for everyone.
Why do some university presidents face backlash and others don’t when making tough decisions?
A campus’s reaction to presidential decision-making depends on several variables. Were the decisions shaped by an inclusive, transparent, and data-driven process? Did the president have the community’s trust beforehand? Did stakeholders believe the decision was necessary? How and when was it communicated, and were the steps leading to it clearly explained? Did it affect jobs, wages, job security, workplace norms, or other deeply valued aspects of campus life? What was the prevailing campus climate—goodwill and satisfaction, or despair and change fatigue—at the time?
Recent examples show presidents drawing both criticism and praise for similar decisions about campus protests and governance. These episodes highlight how the same action can be welcomed on one campus yet resisted on another, depending on context, expectations, and climate.
How does shared governance complicate decision-making in higher education?
Shared governance is built on values like trust, transparency, timeliness, collaboration, communication, and equity. It clarifies the complementary responsibilities—such as providing input, making recommendations, granting approval, or exercising veto authority—that different groups assume as part of the decision-making process. When each group fulfills its defined role, the process can be inclusive and mission-centered.
Complications arise when urgency collides with process. Faculty, staff, students, and boards may all value shared governance, but they move at different speeds and view issues through different lenses. A decision that feels time-sensitive to the administration may feel rushed to faculty, while a carefully deliberated faculty proposal may seem too slow to trustees. These mismatched expectations can create friction, even when all parties are acting in good faith.
In practice, presidents often navigate competing timelines, overlapping expectations, and contested authority. Clear scopes and transparent consultation help, but they cannot eliminate conflict. By design, shared governance slows decision-making in the name of inclusivity—which strengthens outcomes but complicates leadership, especially when crises demand speed.
What kinds of unpopular decisions might a president be forced to make?
The list is long. Examples include: closing low-demand or costly programs, reducing positions, reallocating funds to higher-impact areas, increasing tuition, modifying budget models, enforcing unpopular federal or state policies, implementing furloughs or benefit reductions, or terminating a popular employee. Recent, widely covered program eliminations underscore the intensity of campus and public reaction to such calls.
How can presidents balance long-term institutional health with short-term resistance?
Presidents must distinguish between opposition rooted in discomfort with change and opposition grounded in legitimate concerns. Balancing both requires pairing clear, evidence-based rationales with visible empathy for those affected. Small wins and incremental steps can help demonstrate progress while keeping the long-term vision intact. Ultimately, the president’s responsibility is to protect the university’s future—even if that means absorbing short-term criticism in service of institutional sustainability.
What does it mean for a president to be in a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” situation?
These are moments when any decision will draw both praise and criticism. No matter what choice is made, one or more groups will be deeply upset. Consider the president who decides to sunset and “teach out” a struggling music performance major. The board, CFO, and others focused on fiscal pressures may support the move as a way to stem a resource drain. At the same time, it is likely to provoke outrage from faculty in the program, alumni who cherished their experience, and students currently enrolled in the major.
In such situations, backlash is unavoidable. The true measure of leadership lies not in universal approval but in whether the decision is made transparently and ethically in the best interest of the overall organization.
