The Five Phases of University Presidency: What I’ve Learned from Four Decades in Higher Education Leadership

A few days ago, I started my third university presidency, and a colleague asked me how it felt to be the “new” president again. The question got me thinking about the arc of this role, and I quickly found myself conceptualizing the five distinct phases that many university presidents encounter.

After 40 years in higher education, I’ve seen these phases play out in many presidencies, including in my own. The five phases are marked by common and general characteristics, but the actual lived experiences that each leader navigates within these phases are anything but.

The Five Phases of a University Presidency

From what I have observed and experienced, the five phases of a university presidency include the following:

1. The President-Elect Phase—I don’t know you; you don’t know me
2. The New President Phase—the honeymoon period, where I am getting to know you and you are getting to know me
3. The President Phase—settling in and delivering results
4. The “Damn” President Phase—making the hard calls
5. The Handoff Phase—leaving the institution

You might cycle through some phases more than once, or find yourself thrust into a later stage faster than you’d like, but most presidents do find themselves going through all or most of these phases during their tenure.

Each carries its own energy, challenges, and opportunities. Some phases you’ll love—others will test every ounce of resolve you have. But understanding these phases yourself and making them explicit to members of the community is a healthy way to think about, talk about, and live into the role. 

Phase 1: President-Elect—I Don’t Know You; You Don’t Know Me

This behind-the-scenes phase starts the moment your appointment is announced and ends when you officially take the helm. You’re operating without formal authority, which means you make no official decisions and respect the fact that a university has one president at a time—and it’s not yet you.

Your days are filled with discovery work: reviewing websites, budget reports, accreditation documents, enrollment data, anything that helps you understand what you’re inheriting. I always tell new presidents to keep a running list of emerging questions—these will guide your early conversations with your senior team.

In a situation I know well, the president-elect inherited an institution under accreditation scrutiny, with a peer review team scheduled for a “special visit” within her first sixty days. To ready herself for that high-stakes visit, she spent her transition period reading the former accreditation reports, familiarizing herself with commission standards, and mapping out areas to highlight during that crucial campus visit. That preparation aided her in leading the campus through a stressful interim review.

Phase 2: New President—Getting to Know You, Getting to Know Me

This is often the sweetest phase of all—what many call the “honeymoon period.” Typically spanning your first 12–18 months, this phase is marked by mutual goodwill and curiosity. You’re giving everyone the benefit of the doubt, and they’re extending the same generosity to you.

You’ll spend these months on learning tours: meeting faculty and staff in their offices, attending donor receptions, and visiting with community leaders. It’s your chance to offer “early observation” and “a sense of what you are experiencing” without committing yourself or the institution to anything prematurely.

During one presidency, I launched what I called a “Possibility Fund” in this phase. It was a boutique fundraising campaign where donors contributed money that I could then “give” to faculty and staff via a grant program. Faculty and staff submitted short proposals for a high-impact, low-cost improvement that they were willing to implement on campus. I was then able to award small grants ($500-$2,500) to those with the most viable ideas. It was a great way to build community and morale early in that presidency.

Phase 3: The President—Settling In and Delivering

The “new” label drops off after your first full academic year or so, and now you’re simply “the president”—or on some campuses, “the administration.” This phase can last several years as you face pressure to deliver on the intentions you outlined during your early tenure.

In this phase, you design strategic plans, build multi-year budgets, negotiate bargaining agreements, and make the structural changes your institution needs. You’re translating your leadership philosophy to the day-to-day practices associated with shared governance, enrollment management, financial sustainability, and community partnerships.

In reflecting on this stage, I recall conversations I had with three presidents who took office right as the pandemic hit in 2020. Each of their boards suddenly demanded multi-year budget scenarios—something unprecedented for these stable institutions. Two boards gave their presidents time to navigate the uncertainty; one pushed for immediate cuts. The outcomes were not at all surprising. The presidents given breathing room found their footing and built strong relationships with their teams. The third got off to a rocky start that defined much of her tenure.

Phase 4: The ‘Damn’ President—Making the Hard Calls

This phase tests your resolve. The early goodwill has faded, the easy wins are behind you, and now you’re making decisions that will define your presidency—and sometimes your legacy. Depending on your institution’s challenges, this phase can emerge quickly or arrive after years of smoother sailing.

This is a phase where you would find yourself closing programs, cutting positions, realigning departments, or dealing with high-stakes situations that divide your campus. Every decision gets scrutinized, and even well-intentioned moves can spark protests or public criticism.

I know one president who inherited a campus where faculty had voting rights on the governing board, but staff and students had no formal voice in major decisions. After a year-long shared governance review involving task forces and consultants, the board adopted recommendations to give faculty, staff, and students advisory roles—voice but no vote. Many faculty felt demoted; but a number of staff celebrated a change that they saw as overdue. That decision marked the beginning of a “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” phase that lasted the rest of that president’s four-year tenure.

Phase 5: The Handoff—Sitting Duck or Accelerator

Once you announce your departure, organizational dynamics shift immediately. Some constituents start looking right past you, hoping you’ll defer decisions to your successor. Others rush to get their priorities addressed before you leave.

The challenge is walking a tightrope: handling the hot-potato issues that shouldn’t be dumped on your successor while leaving room for the next president to put their own stamp on long-term initiatives. 

One outgoing president I know spent his final year consolidating six academic schools into three interdisciplinary ones. The reconfiguration was meant to eliminate administrative bloat, create salary savings for his successor, and signal an academic shift toward interdisciplinary work. 

What I’ve Learned About Presidential Phases

Not every presidency unfolds in five tidy stages. Some leaders skip phases entirely; others revisit them multiple times. What’s predictable is that most presidencies bring seasons of discovery, connection, pressure, and conflict—though not always in that order, and not always with equal intensity.

To last even a few years in this role, you must be willing to take the highs with the lows, generously accept praise, learn from criticism, and make the complex calls that have some cheering and others screaming. There are places where a long tenure is exactly what an institution needs, but longevity isn’t always the goal.

Sometimes a university needs someone who’ll make changes—set up new systems and structures for someone else to strengthen. What matters most isn’t how long you sit in the chair, but whether you use whatever phases you encounter to move your institution forward in ways that matter.