This President Tripled the Size of His University. Here’s How.


By Lee Gardner

Posted Monday, July 16, 2018 @ 3:58 PM

Call John C. Hitt a visionary and he’ll chuckle, dub the description “over-the-top phrasing,” and deflect it with wry humor.

After all, when he arrived in 1992 to serve as president of the University of Central Florida, he says, it was a newish, midsize public commuter campus situated on former agricultural acreage 14 miles from downtown Orlando. There wasn’t much to look at. “You got scrub pine, you got palmetto,” he says, a slight drawl betraying his Texas roots. “What would a ‘visionary’ see?”

Here’s what Hitt saw — the makings of a research university that could sprawl across 1,200 acres the university owned, and could educate a growing state. UCF has since grown from about 22,000 students to about 66,000, a 200-percent increase. It blossomed into a research institution and mushroomed in size and ambition, adding more than 10,000 residential beds, a football stadium to go with its upgraded Division I athletics, a medical school, and a new downtown campus.

Many other college presidents have made similar gambits and found mixed results. Hitt is unusual for having accomplished them all, at one university. While the university’s growth hasn’t always been easy, it has been relentless.

Hitt, 77, who retired at the end of June, leaves behind one of the biggest success stories in contemporary higher education. He also leaves behind a question: How did he do it? Is he a visionary whose staying power was masked by an aw-shucks manner, or did he simply ride the updraft of a boomtown? Or maybe both?

Hitt and UCF have benefited from a booming region — the Orlando area will add a projected 75,000 residents in 2018 to a population of 2.4 million, and that growth is expected to accelerate over the next five years. Similar increases have occurred on other Florida campuses: The University of Florida has seen enrollment jump from about 22,000 in 1992 to about 56,000. Florida State University, the state’s only other public research university, grew from about 29,000 to about 42,000 over the same period.

But many who know UCF, and the state, say that the university hasn’t simply been lifted by a rising tide. Yes, UCF would have grown without Hitt, says Deborah German, dean of the College of Medicine. But, “would it be what it is today?” she asks. “No.”

Asked if he believes the growth of the region was reponsible for his success at UCF, Hitt’s avuncular expression shifts just enough to allow a glimpse of a flintier core. “No, and I would flip that for you,” he says. “If it weren’t for UCF, some of the growth you’re seeing wouldn’t have happened, either.”

The supersizing of UCF may be unreproduceable, the result of the confluence of unusually ripe conditions and a leader whose style allowed him to remain at his institution far longer than his peers stayed at theirs. In many ways, that style ran counter to that of other successful college presidents.

“He’s a humble person,” says Michael M. Crow, president of Arizona State University and a longtime friend. “He’s a sincere person. There’s no gaming, and there’s very little politicking, though he does understand politics.”

In meetings, Hitt’s colleagues say, he was often the last to speak. He’s a big man — he played tackle for the Austin College football team during his undergraduate years — but he doesn’t dominate a room the way some college presidents do. He’s genial but quiet. He skips management jargon and conspicuous messaging, though he is fond of folksy aphorisms. “If it’s worth doing, it’s worth delegating” is a favorite.

Involving others in what needs doing is key to Hitt’s success at UCF, says Dale Whittaker, a former provost and the new president. Hitt’s low-key style disguises his persuasive force, Whittaker adds. “You do have to understand that his degree is in psychology.”

Rather than pound the table and demand action, Hitt gathered key people to “put our heads together, be creative, find our friends, get support,” Whittaker says.

Hitt didn’t often take a leading role in cabinet discussions. “He’s listening very carefully to how the discussion is going,” says Maribeth Ehasz, vice president for student development and enrollment services. “He’ll put in his piece when, and only when, he feels it will make a difference.”

Hitt’s leadership style turns out to have been effective at quietly transforming an underdog institution over many years. When he arrived, the Orlando area had already gotten a boost from three industries. Central Florida was an agricultural region before the space race of the late 1950s and ’60s brought a wave of scientists, technicians, and companies to nearby Cape Canaveral. In 1968 the state opened a new four-year institution, then known as Florida Technical University, in part to offer advanced degrees to the influx of scientists and engineers from NASA and aerospace companies such as Lockheed. Its first mascot was the short-lived Citronaut — an astronaut with the body of an orange.

While the Gemini missions were blasting off from the Space Coast, Walt Disney quietly purchased more than 30,000 acres of the region’s mostly undeveloped land for a new theme park, which opened in 1971. Orlando became a tourism mecca that drew visitors away from the beaches, and soon from all over the world.

Hitt, who had served as interim president of the University of Maine, established five goals for UCF’s future: to offer the best undergraduate education in Florida; to add to graduate study and research; to increase its international focus; to become more diverse and inclusive; and to become what he called “the partnership university.” He focused his efforts on advancing in those areas, and has been most visibly successful at the last of them.

There was plenty of room, literally and figuratively, to expand and maneuver. In 1992, Florida had two research universities and a population of about 13 million, growing daily. By contrast, at the same time, Iowa had two research universities and only about two million residents. Florida didn’t organize its public universities into a rigid system, so individual leaders had more freedom to operate independently. Compared with states like New York, California, and Texas, says Marshall Schminke, a professor of business ethics at UCF, “there was really a lot of open space there to start doing interesting things at the university level.”

But Hitt couldn’t flaunt a 100-year reputation or tap a vast endowment, so he needed friends. Building partnerships with local industries and organizations not only helped him advance the university but also created allies.

Early in his tenure, the university helped bail out the struggling state-owned Central Florida Research Park, adjacent to the main campus. Hitt rallied local stakeholders and persuaded the state to buy about 200 acres from the research park for the university. The proceeds reinflated the park’s operating coffers. It is now a billion-dollar operation housing defense contractors and firms specializing in simulation and training technology, many of which have partnerships with the university.

Establishing the Rosen College of Hospitality Management on a separate campus near Disney World and other theme parks in 2000 helped bolster the tourism industry. It also raised UCF’s enrollment. The video-game company Electronic Arts, in nearby Maitland, needed employees with advanced skills. UCF founded the Florida Interactive Entertainment Academy in 2004.

Many colleges promote their partnerships, but they’re probably not as successful as the ones Hitt formed, says John Hugh (Buddy) Dyer, mayor of Orlando. He chairs a task force on mayors and metropolitan universities for the United States Conference of Mayors.

The panel’s meetings, he says are often “a bitch session from the mayors in other communities complaining about their universities, and the universities being in a silo and not being concerned about issues affecting the city.” UCF, by contrast, has found a way to support “just about everything that’s going on in the economy of Central Florida,” Dyer says.

When Hitt proposed a medical school for UCF, in the mid-’00s, some in the state “either thought it was a not very good idea, or, if it was going to happen, they wanted somebody else to do it,” Hitt says. He doubled down by reaching out to Modesto A. (Mitch) Maidique, then president of Florida International University, who also wanted a medical school for his institution. They went to the state Board of Regents with a plan for two medical schools. “The muscle of Orlando and Miami together,” Hitt says, was able to convince the legislators in two of the most populous regions of the state that it was a good idea. Both were approved, and UCF’s College of Medicine now anchors a planned biomedical complex at Lake Nona, 22 miles from the main campus. Last year, just a few months before Hitt announced his retirement, UCF said it would break ground this fall on a teaching hospital at Lake Nona.

Much of Hitt’s success in getting big projects to work comes from his down-to-earth approach, Crow says. “He doesn’t show up, as some people do, and project ‘I’m smarter than you, and you need to give me all your money — I know what to do with it. He comes across just the opposite: ‘Let me build a university that’s going to connect to your family, to your cousin, to your neighbor.’ ”

Hitt is unusual among college presidents for having stayed president for a quarter-century, and for remaining productive through the end of his tenure. College presidents these days serve 6.5 years, on average, according to data compiled in 2017 by the American Council on Education. That may be for the best, says Peter Eckel, a senior fellow and director of leadership programs at the Graduate School of Education at the University of Pennsylvania.

After six or seven years, college presidents sometimes flag in energy and start to run out of ideas, Eckel says. “Sometimes long-serving leaders leave behind a mess, or they fall asleep at the switch.”

“I don’t think either of those two descriptions fits John,” he says.

Whittaker, UCF’s new president, says he’s seen stagnation take hold in leaders who stay too long, but he’s also seen the consequences of revolving-door leadership. A series of leaders who arrive, start big changes, and then leave after a few years can lead to “institutions’ starting to get resistant to change,” he says. “There is a mentality among faculty at institutions where there’s been a lot of leadership change: We can outlast this.”

Hitt won over many faculty members with his commitment to the university. When Schminke, the business professor, arrived in 1999, he says, Hitt “had already been a long-term president.”

His ambition for the institution also helped make allies among faculty members. “He always seemed to have an idea of what UCF should be doing next,” says Maureen L. Ambrose, a professor of business ethics, who is married to Schminke. When the president interacted with faculty members, “it wasn’t done in the slick style that you sometimes see upwardly mobile university administrators bring to the table,” Schminke says.

Hitt’s dedication also had a trickle-down effect. Ambrose and Schminke say that they have stayed at UCF for nearly 20 years, despite other offers, “because you just continue to see what the place could be. Why move to a place that your place is about to turn into?”

Presidents who can remain driven and build on successes can make the most of longer tenures, Whittaker says. Leaders like Hitt, Crow, of Arizona State, and Freeman A. Hrabowski III, of the University of Maryland-Baltimore County, have made sweeping transformations in part because of their longevity. “You’ve almost hired everybody,” Whittaker says. “You then have people who have been brought into and raised up in a culture that is headed in a common direction.”

Building working relationships inside and outside the university can make a difference in presidential success. Hitt has benefited from the longevity of several cabinet members, including Ehasz, the vice president for student development, and William F. Merck II, vice president for administration and finance, both of whom have worked with him for more than two decades. Hitt can also call on seasoned relationships with longtime local leaders, such as Sanford C. (Sandy) Shugart, president of Valencia College for 18 years, and Dyer, who’s been mayor of Orlando since 2003. “I talk with Dr. Hitt on a routine basis,” Dyer says. “It’s not a scheduled call. We’ll just pick up the phone and check in.”

The relationships paid off for Hitt and UCF after a proposal approved by the Legislature for a downtown campus was blocked by a veto from Gov. Rick Scott, a Republican. “A lot of universities would have stopped at that,” Whittaker says. Instead the university rallied its team and devised a new proposal. The intial plan called for $200 million in state money for construction of academic space and housing, and would have started with 3,500 students on site. The second try proposed starting with a single academic building costing $60 million — $20 million from the state, $20 million from institutional funds, and $20 million from private sources — with 7,000 students the first semester, and housing built through a partnership with a developer to come later. Scott approved that project.

Hitt’s credibility with state and local officials, as well as university stakeholders, was crucial, Whittaker says. “I don’t think another president that didn’t have that banked would have been able to push through it.”

Growth has come with challenges. In 2008, UCF stopped getting additional state support for enrollment, even though it continued to increase its enrollment by an average of 2 percent a year. (The state now bases part of its allocation on performance.) The cost of teaching more students with limited resources “kind of came out of our hide,” says Keith Koons, a professor of music and former chair of the Faculty Senate. “The faculty have had a lot to do with how we’ve been able to thrive during this growth.”

UCF has a student-to-faculty ratio of 31:1. The University of Florida, by comparison, has a ratio of 20:1. UCF has relied on online teaching to handle the scale. Only about 9 percent of its students take courses online only, but 80 percent take some courses either entirely online or in hybrid classes that combine online content and classroom time. Some courses can be as large as 1,000 students. “We’re educating 66,000 people on about a 40,000-person campus,” Whittaker says.

To do that, UCF has adapted its teaching to keep pace with the its growth. Schminke once taught at a private university where “the department chair would apologize if he had to add that 26th student,” he recalls. Now, at UCF, he regularly teaches a hybrid class with more than 900 students. He delivers a lecture each week that students can attend — “not that many ever do,” he says — that is also videostreamed. Most of the students watch online, on their own schedules. (More than 50 percent of UCF students work at least 20 hours a week.) A team of a dozen instructors then runs 25 or more lab sections for 40 or fewer students that offer more hands-on learning. Many introductory classes are taught at that scale, though upper-division courses are typically limited to 40 students.

UCF still faces the challenge of “how to manage the growth in a way that the student experience isn’t harmed,” says Ambrose, the business-ethics professor. The university “is like a lot of little laboratories on how to deal with these large classes.”

But Schminke sounds excited rather than overwhelmed. “It’s been fun,” he says. “If you asked us, ‘Could it go to 75,000, is that doable?,’ we’d say no. However, we’ve done that three times over the past two decades, and it’s fine.”

The growth in enrollment together with broader access and other improved outcomes for students are perhaps Hitt’s chief achievements, says Joshua Wyner, founder and director of the College Excellence Program at the Aspen Institute. UCF grew in response to demand for education in its region, and in doing so it has also expanded access to underserved students. The proportion of minorities enrolled rose from 16 percent in 1991 to 46 percent in 2017, and the percentage of students eligible for Pell Grants grew from 27 percent in 1991 to 41 percent in 2017.

Meanwhile, the quality of incoming students has improved: Weighted GPA rose from 3.30 to 4.06 over the same period. And the graduation rate rose from about 40 percent in 1991 to 70 percent in 2017. Increasing both student access and student success the way Hitt and UCF have “is the challenge for American higher education,” Wyner says, “particularly for institutions that are doing well.”

The question now facing UCF is what will happen without Hitt. At 77, he has health issues — “not debilitating, but irritating,” he says — and if he stayed any longer, “it was not going to put me or UCF in a good position.” He will continue to consult for the university on fund raising for a while, but he plans to move to Madison, Wis., with Martha, his wife of 56 years, to be closer to their son and daughter.

One of the reasons for UCF’s growth during Hitt’s presidency is that the university has had so much room to grow — physically, strategically, and reputationally. Continuing to exceed its past growth may not be realistic. “When you’re at high levels, improvement is harder to get at,” Ehasz says.

But Whittaker says UCF will continue to grow as long as the region continues to grow, and as long as “we can do it with quality, because access to an average degree is not really what our region or our country needs.”

One of the things he loves about the prospect of leading UCF is that at 50 it is still a young place, focused on its future and not on “the business of protecting a historic reputation,” he says. “We are not risk-averse.”

Read the full article from the Chronicle.

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