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Moving UpHere's the Lineup
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Colleagues of mine at Old Dominion University and elsewhere across the country have asked me if I have a secret formula for leading a search committee. After all, they say, I must be doing something right (or wrong), since I keep getting that assignment. It is true that in the last two years I have chaired a search committee for our first-ever vice president for research, cochaired a search committee with the university athletic director for our first-ever football coach, and recently completed chairmanship of an 18-member group to select a provost. One of the nicest things about being on a search committee is you get to meet people from all over the campus, some of whom you had little or no contact with before. The downside of any search, though, despite some meals in classy restaurants, is the extra meetings, endless phone calls, numerous Equal Employment Opportunity and human-resources forms, and trips back and forth to hotels and airports. It has dawned on me that I actually have developed a formula for a successful search -- one in which roles are defined and then refined throughout the process. In fact, the more I have thought about it, the more it seems to me that a solid search committee for an academic or administrative job resembles an athletic team on which various people play key positions in a coordinated effort. The members of this "dream team" are not from a single sport, however. We need a combination of players from several sports -- basketball, baseball, football, and either soccer or hockey. (Please note, I resisted the urge to add wrestling, boxing, and archery to the list.) So with all due respect to purists in academe, as well as in the athletic world, here is my list of key players on a search committee, and their respective sports. From baseball, you need a center fielder. Every search committee needs someone who can cover a lot of ground and sometimes compensate for a committee member or two (outfielders, I mean) who are a bit slow of foot and have a narrow conception of what it means to "cover their position." The good center fielder on the committee is willing to do more than the average member and seems to take for granted that he or she would be forced to cover the gaps on occasion. From basketball, you want a shot-blocking forward or center, someone able to keep the ball in play rather than emphatically belting it into the stands to draw a chorus of oohs and aahs from the crowd. Every now and then during a committee session, you need someone to swat a lingering suggestion off the table so we all can move on, but it has to happen in a workmanlike way. The people whose ideas have been snuffed out do not want to see their rejection as the lead clip on SportsCenter. You cannot leave the world of basketball just yet. You also need a point guard. Frankly, I don't want a shoot-first-and-pass-later player. I need somebody in the room who is going to ensure that all of us contribute and touch the ball on occasion. This person is incredibly valuable in the hiring process because he or she seeks out members of the committee who are less likely to talk, but often have the most relevant thoughts. As for football, every search committee needs a middle linebacker in the room, someone who brings intensity and motivational talents to the squad. This is the person who can informally huddle us up and remind each and every participant that the process is long, tedious, and often thankless, but we can only bend, never break, as a unit. This is also the person who will often approach me as chairman and quietly ask off camera if we are in the right formation or if we have the right people on a task. This person is highly respected by peers and can see something developing before the rest of us can. Finally, from either hockey or soccer, you want the best goalie that campus appointments can generate. You know who I am referring to here: that rational person who is the last line of defense, who never ventures too far from the goal, but is always consumed with ensuring nobody scores against us, whether it be with process issues or confidentiality challenges. The goalie in the search process keeps asking all the right questions. He or she will leave no stone unturned in the quest to do things right and by the book. This person often saves the committee from second-guessing by the campus community or from the challenge of dealing with legal issues once we all want to believe our work is done. That leaves the final two characters in the search process: the coach and the owner. As chairman of a committee, I often feel like a coach. I am asking people who are already very busy to do more, and to do it without compensation. All committee members must be treated with respect and praised, but they also must be pushed because our collective work will never conclude if somebody in the room isn't watching the clock and the schedule. As coach, I have to check my ego at the door. With a group of dedicated and bright people in the room, I need to keep in mind that my direction and my thoughts are not the only ones present. A senior colleague once told me that the chair of a committee is just that--a seat at the table. But the chair is also the person required to clean up and answer all the questions once the committee's work is done. The process concludes when the committee recommendation is put before the owner -- i.e., the president and trustees. At the start of the process, the owners set a direction, provide the resources, and then let the committee do its work. Good owners are always willing to assist during the process, but only when asked. A search will never be successful if the owners are constantly standing on the sidelines or interrupting practice. As the coach, you have to keep in mind throughout the search that you are serving at the owner's discretion, and that the only acceptable outcome is victory--i.e., finding the ideal candidate. |
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