Ends do (usually) justify means

Do ends justify means? When some argue that ends do not justify means, they typically imply that there are certain situations where the means—potentially extreme or damaging—do not warrant the pursuit of an end. Generally, though, the means are meant to be subordinate to the ends; the latter are the driving force behind our actions and decisions. That is the whole point of the distinction between ends and means. 

In the context of educational leadership, the mission is clear: student success and institutional success. Collegiality and a supportive work environment are crucial, of course. They foster a positive atmosphere conducive to both productivity and satisfaction. Nevertheless, there comes a point when these relationships can impede progress. I have experienced this firsthand. Recently, my actions, while necessary to move a solution forward, strained a previously good relationship with a colleague. I did not relish the decision, nor did I make it lightly, but it was a last resort to maintain momentum toward our ultimate goal.

This is not an isolated incident. Over the years, I have faced such decisions more than once. They are never easy. They are the kind of decisions that linger in the mind, inviting you to question whether there was another way. Yet, they are a stark reminder that an overcommitment to conflict avoidance can be just as detrimental as the tendency to engage in multiple needless confrontations. Both extremes are pitfalls of leadership. A good conflict can clear the air and clarify things.

Navigating these waters requires an intuitive understanding when to stand firm, and when to smooth things over. The art of leadership is not in avoiding conflict at all costs but in discerning when the mission's needs must override the comfort of existing relationships. It's about striking a balance between moving forward and maintaining alliances, knowing full well that sometimes progress demands tough choices.

Context Contamination

Context contamination is a term I use to describe a nuanced problem affecting Ai-powered chatbots. These systems use the entire conversation (chat) as a context for generating replies. This feature, while beneficial for maintaining coherence and relevance, has a downside. When a user reuses the same long conversation for unrelated inquiries or tasks, the chatbot can produce errors. The system assumes that all parts of the conversation are interconnected and relevant to the current query, leading to responses that may be inaccurate or nonsensical. For example, if you ask it to write  a passage about a health issue, and then ask to write a passage about human emotion, it will continue to bring in the health issues into the piece about emotions.  

This phenomenon is not confined to the digital world; it has a parallel in human relationships. When we interact with others, our past experiences with them often color our perceptions. If you have had a conflict with someone, you are more likely to interpret their actions or words in the worst possible light. This is because the context of your relationship has been contaminated by negative experiences. You subconsciously look for more and more confirmations of a hypothesis that the person is bad. Similarly, when we have a favorable view of someone, perhaps because they are a friend, we may overlook their flaws or questionable behavior. This form of contamination can lead to poor judgment or decision-making, as we give undue credence to the words or actions of those we favor.

For chatbots, the solution is relatively straightforward: start a fresh conversation and its memory about the previous context will be wiped out. In human interactions, the solution is more nuanced but still achievable. One approach is to consciously reset your perception of the person, effectively ignoring or setting aside past experiences. This act of resetting is similar to the concept of forgiveness in many religious traditions. It is a ritual that allows both parties to move forward, unburdened by past grievances.

In both machine and human interactions, the challenge lies in effective context management. For chatbots, this might involve algorithmic adjustments to how they interpret and utilize context. For humans, it may require emotional intelligence and the willingness to engage in the difficult but rewarding process of forgiveness or other sort of reset. By addressing the issue of context contamination, we aim for more accurate and meaningful interactions, free from the distortions that contaminated context can bring.

The Economics of Complaining: Balancing Due Process and Administrative Efficiency

The administrative dilemma surrounding the economics of complaining is complex. On one hand, there is a moral and ethical imperative to allow students, staff, and faculty to voice their grievances. On the other hand, there is the potential for the complaint mechanism to be weaponized, leading to a flood of complaints that can overwhelm the system. This creates a quasi-economic mechanism where the "cost" of complaining must be carefully calibrated.

First, let's consider the basic principles of due process. Due process is a legal concept that ensures fair treatment through the normal judicial system, especially as a citizen's entitlement. In the context of educational institutions, due process means that every complaint must be investigated thoroughly, impartially, and within a reasonable time frame. This is essential for maintaining the integrity of the institution and for ensuring that justice is served.

Next, we must address the cost of complaining. Instituting a cost, such as requiring written grievances or mandating a multi-step review process, serves as a filter. If the cost is too high, it deters legitimate complaints, thereby perpetuating a culture of silence and entrenching bad behavior. Conversely, if the cost is too low, the system becomes inundated with complaints, many of which may be frivolous or vindictive. This not only strains administrative resources but also risks overshadowing serious issues that require immediate attention.

The George Floyd era brought about a significant shift in this dynamic. In an effort to combat racial microaggressions and low-level hostilities, many institutions lowered the barriers to complaining. While well-intentioned, this policy change was not thoroughly considered. The result has been a surge in complaints, without a corresponding decrease in microaggressions. Moreover, it has created false expectations that all grievances will be addressed, leading to disillusionment and mistrust.

So, what is the solution? We should return to the principles of due process and consider raising the cost of complaining through a multi-level review. This doesn't mean making it prohibitively difficult to file a complaint, but rather instituting a balanced process that deters frivolous complaints while encouraging legitimate ones. For example, a preliminary review could filter out complaints that don't meet a certain criterion, followed by a more thorough investigation for those that do.

In conclusion, the economics of complaining in educational institutions presents a paradox. While it is crucial to have an open channel for grievances, the system must also protect itself from becoming a tool for vendettas or from being overwhelmed by the sheer volume of complaints. Striking this balance requires a nuanced approach that respects the principles of due process. Best intentions are not enough to create a working policy and solve the underlying problem.

Here is to the new school year!

The beginning of a new school year is a remarkable moment in the life of an educator. It is a time that brings a unique opportunity to reset, to start fresh, and to embrace the distinct annual cycle that characterizes the world of education. Unlike many other professions, education has this strong seasonality, a rhythm that allows for renewal and growth.

First, let us consider the opportunity to try something new. The new school year is a blank canvas, waiting to be filled with innovative ideas, fresh approaches, and creative solutions. Whether it is a novel teaching method or a different way to engage with students, the start of the year is the perfect time to experiment and explore.

Next, the new school year offers a chance to forget grudges and to renew commitments. In the hustle and bustle of the previous year, misunderstandings and conflicts may have arisen. But now, as the leaves turn and the air cools, we can let go of those past grievances and focus on collaboration and unity. It is a time to recommit to our values, our colleagues, and our students.

Meeting new students is another exciting aspect of the new school year. Each student brings their own story, their own dreams, and their own potential. As educators, we have the privilege of guiding them, learning from them, and watching them grow. The relationships we build with our students are at the heart of what we do, and the start of the year is a fresh opportunity to forge those connections.

Shifting focus is also essential as we embark on a new academic journey. Perhaps last year was challenging, or maybe there were areas where we felt stuck. Now, we can shift our focus, set new goals, and work towards achieving them. It is a time to reassess, realign, and move forward with clarity and purpose.

Some say that higher education is the perpetual hope that every new year will be better. But let us do something to make it not just hope but perceive actual movement forward. We are not treading water, not backsliding, but inching forward. That is what makes professional life fulfilling.

In the world of education, the new school year is not just a date on the calendar; it is a symbol of hope, a beacon of potential, and a call to action. It is a time to embrace possibilities, to strive for excellence, and to make a real difference in the lives of our students.

So as we stand on the threshold of this new academic year, let us take a moment to reflect on the opportunities before us. Let us seize the chance to try something new, to forget grudges, to meet new students, to renew commitments, and to shift focus. Let us not just hope for a better year; let us work together to make it a reality. Let us inch forward, with determination and joy, and make this school year a fulfilling and successful journey.

The Irony of the Irrational Ire

You know what's both fascinating and utterly bizarre? The tiny tempests that brew in teapots within the academic realm. People in these hallowed halls are supposed to be the vanguard of rational thinking and empathy, right? But how often they stew, steam, and explode over trivialities, maintaining grudges for years, even decades, is somewhat of an ironic riddle.

A tenured professor, holding onto a grudge like it's the last piece of chalk in the lecture hall because someone, ages ago, didn't get them the class schedule they wanted. It's like a performance of "Les Misérables," but instead of being about the plight of the French despondent class, it's about who got the cushy 10 am slot on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Where's the melodrama around the profound disagreements on the ontological nature of being, or intense debates about structural inequalities? They are replaced with seething resentment over who put and did not put with item on the meeting agenda, and who was thanked publicly, and who was not. Someone said a harsh word to me three years ago, and I cannot just get over it.

Surely this is just being human, right? We are, after all, a species both blessed and cursed with intense social emotions. But there's something particularly stinging about the persistence of these grudges within academia. Our supposed intellectuals, are so blinded by fury, they fail to see the common ground, the shared aspirations, the similar visions for making the world a better place. The inability to forgive and move all can be utterly astounding, and past offenses keep regenerating new ones automatically.

And isn't it paradoxical that this rage flourishes precisely because universities are, relatively speaking, fantastic places to work? There's no impending danger of being fired, no scarcity of resources threatening survival. Maybe it's that evolutionary itch to form cliques, assert dominance, protect territory, with no 'real' enemy to direct it at, that fuels these petty conflicts.

Here's the thing: We humans have this knack for identifying 'us' and 'them,' even when 'us' and 'them' are colleagues working in the same department, teaching the same courses, making the same little money.

Sometimes, the fallout from these academic wars is so severe, it begins to spill into student life. The classroom turns into a battlefield, with scholars enlisting partisan followers from among their students. Mutual complaints are launched with HR urging to investigate supposed crimes that sometimes are so tiny, one needs a microscope to see them. Suddenly, the pursuit of knowledge becomes secondary to navigating the social maze of these tempests in teapots.

I find myself dreaming of a world, or at least an academia, where people could muster the strength to behave just a smidgen better. Where disputes were settled through respectful dialogue and not through vendettas carried out across semesters. It's a small dream, a trivial thought, really. But imagine the difference it would make, the ideas that could bloom in an atmosphere stripped of resentment and filled with collaboration.

The Dark Mirage: A Study in Perception

Universities, these vast hubs of knowledge and innovation, are not immune to a peculiar, often unseen, phenomenon: the Dark Mirage. It is a distortion that festers within the complex networks of deans, faculty members, and administrators, warping reality and casting an enduring shadow over the vibrant tableau of higher education.

In the whirlwind of academia, deans and administrators often face an onslaught of problems and failures, while the tales of progress and success are more like hushed tones. These issues, demanding immediate attention and intervention, inevitably overshadow the multitude of positive achievements. The outcome of this distortion is a grim and misshapen perspective of the academic environment, potentially breeding cynicism, disillusionment, and a jaded outlook. 

However, this Dark Mirage can be confronted and mitigated. The antidote lies in the proactive pursuit of positivity. Engaging in open dialogues with students, conducting focus groups, and soliciting feedback can reveal a rich vein of positivity that is often overlooked. Student evaluations, though often perceived as harsh scrutiny, can shed light on the dedication and commitment of faculty members, illuminating the profound impact they have on shaping students' futures.

Another force that dispels the Dark Mirage is the tradition of academic celebrations, such as commencements and graduation ceremonies. Beyond the pomp and circumstance, these events serve a significant cultural function. They act as a resounding gong that silences the negativity and refocuses our attention onto achievements and victories. Suddenly, it becomes clear that faculty members, even those embroiled in conflicts with each other, receive abundant gratitude from students. Those involved in disputes are, in fact, exceptional educators who all contribute significantly towards a common goal. Their disagreements appear minuscule and trivial, while their shared grievances seem to fade in the brilliance of their collective achievements.

In the quest to overcome the Dark Mirage, the aim isn't to retreat into a rose-tinted reality. Instead, it's about consciously fostering a balanced perspective. It's about choosing to feed the right wolf, acknowledging the presence of the dark but actively nurturing the light, following the wisdom of Native American folklore.

So, as we navigate the intricate ecosystem of academia, we must actively amplify the whispers of positivity and celebrate the triumphs that often go unnoticed. By doing so, we can ensure that the Dark Mirage does not eclipse our shared pursuit of a fair, equitable, inclusive and loving society.

The Academic Game of Thrones: Why We Should Keep Students Out of the Fray

In the realm of academia, an intriguing and complex dance often unfolds between colleagues. This interplay of power dynamics is reminiscent of a game of thrones, a battle for influence and alliances in the hallowed halls of learning. Our evolutionary history has primed us for such intrigue, urging us to engage in tactical maneuvering and social alliances. Yet, in these scholarly environs, we must be cautious, for the most insidious complications arise when students are unwittingly pulled into the fray.

For the most part, these academic machinations are innocuous, as scholars engage in passionate debates and vie for recognition. But when the mission of education is subordinated to the natural pull of micropolitics, these skirmishes can become downright detrimental. As faculty members, our responsibility lies in cultivating and nurturing the minds of our students, not in ensnaring them in the pettiness of our personal battles.

Faculty members often form deep bonds with their students, particularly in professional programs, where the lines between mentorship and friendship may blur. It is in these settings that the temptation to draw students into the web of intrigue is at its strongest. The telltale signs of this breach of trust can be observed when students lodge complaints against faculty members that are tinged with details and information only another faculty member could provide.

If ever a student approaches you with gossip or concerns about another faculty member, the only ethical course of action is to gently guide them toward the appropriate channels for addressing their grievances. It is essential to maintain a professional demeanor and resist the urge to engage in the exchange of rumors and hearsay. The student's concerns should be directed to the department chair or the dean, who are better equipped to handle such matters.

Our natural instincts, honed by millennia of evolution, may not always serve us well in the modern world. In the academic sphere, where our primary objective is the pursuit of knowledge and the enlightenment of our students, it is crucial that we resist the allure of intrigue and instead focus on fostering an environment of collaboration and support. When we prioritize the mission of education over our primal fascination with power struggles, we can better serve our students and advance the noble cause of higher education.

The Art of Yielding: How to Lose an Argument and Gain Self-Respect

In the grand arena of human interaction, voices clash and merge, forming a vibrant tapestry of perspectives. It is in these deliberations that people voice their opinions, objections, and counter-arguments, weaving together a rich fabric of collective wisdom. This is normal, as differences in perspectives, when brought together, make for better decisions. However, there is a looming threat that often casts a shadow over these deliberative assemblies—our inability to lose an argument, which poses a risk to democracy and hinders the effectiveness of our communication.

One may argue that falling in love with our own opinions is a natural byproduct of our passion for certain ideas or ideals. Yet, this attachment often blinds us to the possibility of alternative perspectives and can lead us to believe that any rejection of our opinions is a personal affront—a sign of disrespect. The truth is, our opinions and beliefs are not a complete representation of who we are. It is crucial to recognize that we can be respected even when our ideas are not universally accepted.

The trick, then, is not to overinvest in one's own opinion or a particular point. We must learn the wisdom of yielding, of knowing when to let go of our arguments and embrace the insights of others. This does not mean that we should blindly accept every contrary idea that comes our way; rather, it is a matter of acknowledging that our perspective is just one of many.

If you find yourself feeling disrespected when others disagree with you, it is worth examining the root of these emotions. Often, such feelings stem from a place of insecurity or a lack of self-respect. Ironically, the stubborn attachment to our opinions is both a symptom and a cause of these issues. It is a vicious cycle that can only be broken by cultivating a healthy sense of self-respect and a willingness to yield when appropriate.

Indeed, the process of learning how to lose an argument can have profound effects on our self-esteem. When we are able to let go of our need to be right, we open ourselves to the possibility of growth and self-improvement. It is through this willingness to yield that we foster a sense of humility and respect for the ideas of others. Ultimately, it is not about winning or losing the argument; it is about embracing the diversity of perspectives that enrich our collective wisdom.

So, the next time you find yourself in a heated debate, remember to practice the art of yielding. You may just find that, in losing an argument, you gain a deeper sense of self-respect and a renewed appreciation for the complexity of human thought.

Can negligence be racist?

Lately, I have been thinking about the often-blurred line between bad management and institutional racism. It's something that wasn't always obvious to me, but understanding their complex relationship is essential for creating more inclusive workplaces.

Bad management and institutional racism are not always separate entities; they can intertwine and create toxic environments for faculty and staff of color. Bad management may involve poor leadership, decision-making, and communication, while institutional racism refers to policies and practices that perpetuate racial disparities. Although bad management might not explicitly intend to discriminate, its impact can exacerbate systemic racism if institutional practices negatively affect marginalized groups.

It's crucial to consider both intent and impact when assessing organizational practices. Bureaucratic delays, disorganized and confusing procedures might unintentionally create a hostile work environment for faculty and staff of color. Different groups experience institutional barriers in unique ways, shaped by the specific challenges and obstacles they face. What may seem like a mere annoyance for me, as a white man, could very well feel like full-scale harassment for a person from a marginalized group. It is important to recognize that our own personal experiences and perspectives are not universal. By acknowledging these differences and being mindful of the unique challenges faced by individuals from various backgrounds, we can work together to create a more inclusive and supportive environment for all, and avoid the mistake of confusing our own perception with the universal truth.

In the realm of social justice, negligence in organizational practices can be considered racist, sexist, ableist, or homophobic, much like how negligence can be criminal in law. A lack of awareness about accessibility needs for disabled employees may result in ableist practices that hinder their career growth. Though unintentional, this negligence contributes to an unjust work environment.

Organizations must recognize their responsibility to address discriminatory practices, regardless of their origin and intent. By examining policies, improving procedures, offering support and resources for marginalized employees, and fostering a culture of inclusion and accountability, we can create truly equitable workplaces that challenge both bad management and institutional racism.

This is embarrassing

In higher education, there are certain matters that are handled with more sensitivity and discretion than others. One of the main reasons for this is the strong emotion of embarrassment. When faculty members feel embarrassed, it can have a negative impact on their performance and well-being, and it can set up powerful defensive mechanisms that make matters worse.

Therefore, when it comes to giving feedback on performance problems, it is important to do so in a private, quiet, and supportive manner. This allows the faculty member to save face and maintain their dignity, while also receiving constructive criticism that can help them improve their performance. This is how evaluations are set up, on both unionized and non-unionized campuses.

Some faculty members prefer to keep their own personnel matters confidential, while not minding exposing others. This is not consistent and can create a double standard that undermines trust and respect in the workplace. If you do not want to be embarrassed, it is important to treat others with the same respect and confidentiality that you would want for yourself. This rule does not change if you one is motivated by urgent matters, related to social justice. If we give up on due process, the struggle for equity and justice is undermined rather than enhanced.

Transparency standards do not always apply in higher education, especially when it comes to personnel matters. However, this does not mean that accountability and fairness should be compromised. It simply means that sensitive matters should be handled with care and discretion, in order to avoid causing unnecessary embarrassment or harm.

By recognizing the power of embarrassment and taking steps to minimize it in the workplace, higher education institutions can create a more supportive and empowering environment for their faculty members. This, in turn, can lead to improved performance, job satisfaction, and overall well-being for everyone involved.

Ultimately, the key to handling sensitive matters in higher education is to strike a balance between transparency and discretion, accountability and support. By prioritizing the well-being and dignity of faculty and staff members, while also maintaining accountability and fairness, institutions can create a workplace culture that is both productive and empowering for all.

Why Innuendo Has No Place in Academia

Innuendo can be a tricky thing. It's a subtle or hinted remark that often carries a suggestive or insulting connotation. It can take the form of a joke, comment, or gesture that is meant to communicate a hidden message or imply something negative about someone else. In academic and business settings, innuendo can have a destructive impact on professional relationships and workplace culture.

Here are some examples of what innuendo might look like in an academic business meeting:

• During a discussion on a curriculum proposal, someone says, "If only most faculty knew the basic facts about curriculum forms." This is a direct attack on the proposer disguised as a general lament about a lack of faculty training.
• Someone says, "Isn't this why we have support staff?" implying that staff are not doing their jobs.
• Someone says in a public meeting, "Some people can't teach and yet they present themselves as scholars." This kind of innuendo is even more damaging because it's not clear who the person has in mind, leaving many people feeling hurt or offended.

Now, you might be thinking, "Don't we need to allow criticism and accountability?" And the answer is yes, but there are many ways to provide negative feedback without resorting to innuendo. If you have a problem with someone's performance, the best first step is to meet with them face-to-face and express your concerns. You may not know the full story, so it's important to hear both sides. There are also official channels for complaining, such as going to a supervisor, union representative, HR, or equal opportunities office. These channels involve due process, whereas innuendo leaves no room for defense.

It's important to remember that personnel matters should not be the subject of public debates. If you're unhappy with someone's performance, you should take the appropriate steps to address it, rather than making hints or implications in a public setting. Engaging in innuendo will only harm your reputation and make others less likely to want to work with you.

As the facilitator of meetings one must make sure that innuendo has no place in the discussion. If someone starts to engage in this behavior, it's the facilitator's responsibility to shut it down and keep the meeting focused on its purpose. Innuendo does nothing to further the discussion and only serves to bring negativity to the table.

Innuendo has no place in academic or any other settings. It's destructive, undermines professional relationships, and goes against the principles of due process and democracy. If you have concerns about someone's performance, there are better ways to address it than through hints or suggestions. By upholding a "no innuendo" rule in meetings, we can create a more positive and productive environment for all.

Teasing in the workplace

Teasing is generally accepted among close individuals across most cultures, but the degree of closeness required varies significantly. These variations can be challenging to discern, particularly as they can differ widely even within subcultures that coexist closely. In some communities (often more homogeneous), people don't need to be friends to tease each other humorously. In others, it can take years of acquaintance before any level of teasing is considered acceptable. When subcultures intersect across gender, class, and race, navigating these multiple cultural norms becomes even more complex. Regional differences also come into play, which is why quick-witted New Yorkers may encounter issues when moving to the Midwest or the West. The person doing the teasing might be saying, "Okay, now we're friends, so I will poke fun at you." It is a symbolic act of recognition and intimacy. At times, it might be a request for closeness, akin to asking, "will you be my friend?" However, the recipient may not interpret it this way and might see it as a sign of aggression or at least, poor taste. This scenario creates a typical cultural conflict, where differing assumptions lead to opposing interpretations of behavior.

Teasing can be seen as a form of verbal aggression masked as a joke. What makes it amusing is its proximity to real aggression or its highlighting of actual faults and blunders. This is why it's so fraught with risk and prone to misunderstanding. The rule in the workplace is straightforward: refrain from teasing unless you are absolutely certain that the other person interprets it as you intend. Establishing such safe boundaries usually requires several years of close interactions.

This rule extends to all forms of humor. In any conversation, I might voice around a quarter of the jokes that come to mind. The rest are too risky, and so, I suppress them. Yes, I have a twisted sense of humor, but I keep it under control. I hope other people do the same. All humor is a form of playful aggression. As Henry Bergson noted, "the comic demands something like a momentary anesthesia of the heart." In a diverse workplace, one must exercise caution when joking, especially at another person's expense. One might be playing a macho character as a joke or self-parody, but co-workers may not understand this and take your performance too seriously. It's not because they lack a sense of humor; rather, their cultural norms and life experiences might be too different from yours. We no longer live or work in culturally homogeneous groups. Thus, curb your urge to tease and joke. Opt for other means of connection. Kindness and politeness usually work better and have broader appeal. The Scandinavian style of self-deprecating humor also tends to work well.

Anger management and academic bullying

Over the years, I've encountered several individuals who seem to possess all the leadership qualities, with one minor yet critical exception: they can't control their rage. For simplicity, let's call them academic bullies. These people are often intelligent, sophisticated, energetic, and well-organized. Moreover, they tend to be good communicators and possess a certain degree of charisma. You'd expect them to take on more responsibilities and advance in their careers. However, they have a significant flaw: they can't help being nasty. During routine work conversations, something triggers them, causing them to lose control and utter or write something unkind. This kind of flaw may be tolerated in some types of private businesses, but in academia, most authority relies on the support from a wide array of constituents. These individuals don't get elected, appointed, or promoted. They fail the test of sound relational instincts. Most people can intuitively discern between someone merely being irritated and someone being mean. While ordinary folks may become angry with each other, they also tend to calm down and rebuild their relationships. They still sense the point of no return during their bouts of anger and avoid crossing it. Bullies, on the other hand, cross it repeatedly. Deep-seated insecurity and possibly a degree of self-loathing drive them to seek instant gratification from belittling others. They're often aware that this isn't the best strategy, but the urge to demean others is too strong. Regardless of the consequences, they can't help themselves. Certainly, bullies gain nothing from their behavior. In fact, they often damage their own careers and opportunities.

At some point, a vicious cycle takes root: Correctly sensing hostility from others, the bully develops a victim complex, which shields them from any potential self-reflection. They lose sight of those they victimize, but become acutely aware of their own perceived victimization. Once the capacity to repent is lost, no relational growth is possible. Negative relational dynamics tend to harden, fall into self-reinforcing patterns, and ultimately make relational healing impossible. All past events slot into a rigidly constructed narrative of mutual hostility. Eventually, any functional group will find ways to isolate bullies, either by ignoring them or by granting them a small domain to control. They become sad and angry; their talent goes to waste. I wish I had a foolproof method to prevent this, but I don't. Among all the issues we tackle in academia, these unhappy individuals represent the most difficult to resolve. In this week following Thanksgiving, I am grateful that these are rare exceptions.

How good departments self-destruct

The path to self-destruction most often winds its way through the terrain of prolonged and intractable personal conflict. Educational relation in general has a little element of utopia, of a perfect community. Educators are prone to make a mistake of confusing the in-departmental working relation for an educational one. They sometimes develop unreasonably high expectations about their own small community; expectations no group can ever meet. In other words, imagining a family, or an activist group in place of an academic department sets up a wrong model of relationality. If you expect your colleagues to change because you really want them to is a really bad idea. Instead of weak values of civility and decorum, people erroneously pursue intense values such as friendship, common beliefs, solidarity, and heightened sensitivity to each other’s personal needs. And it is just too much for a not-quite-a-voluntary community to sustain.

The beginning of such a conflict is completely irrelevant. It could be almost anything or nothing at all. The culprit is not the conflict itself – they are plentiful anywhere two or more humans come together. The culprit is the intense, obsessive focus on interpersonal relations. That is indeed the main cause of the self-destructive impulse. The more you stare to your own relations, the more twisted and distorted they will look. Every action, and every reaction, every word and every silence will be interpreted as a hostile move. Once a conflict builds its own history, it becomes very difficult to set aside. The longer it festers, the harder its fibers become.

In theory, we should not worry about such conflicts. After all grownups should be able to sort out their won relationships. However, it inevitably starts to affect the work. Curriculum will not be updated and passed, talented people will not be recruited and retained. Faculty will start looking for other jobs. Scholarly collaboration will wane. And most importantly, the creativity in pursuing new ideas, new programs, new projects will stop. Maintaining the status quo leads to stagnation. In the end, both the students, and the entire institution will pay the price. The damage is not only to the department – it is to other people, which is where I begin to worry. Eventually things may get so bad, that departments become the sick child, get disbanded, split, absorbed, or just closed down. It may take many years, but I have seen or heard of several examples in my 30 years in higher ed. TO be fair, it happens only rarely. Most groups will stop somewhere in the middle, redefine and rebuild their working relationships, and manage to move forward.

The solution is very simple. Our job is to serve our students, and to maintain the long-term interests of the institution. The public does not pay us to get along, to be friends, and to spend many days (of paid time) gazing at the collective navel. While faculty well-being is important, it is important as long as it serves the students and the public. It is not why we all are here. To refocus on the needs of students, on new ideas will help. Generally, looking outward rather than inward is helpful. The public trusts us to do the right thing, and grants us self-governance, tenure, and other privileges most professions do not have. While many faculty members feel underpaid, it is still a middle-class wage job with unparalleled flexibility and intellectual freedom. Let us not forget that the public wants something in return.

How to avoid being manipulated

If you speak with someone and suddenly start feeling anger, resentment, or irritation against another person or a group, a red flag should always pop up. Your mind just have been hacked, and you are being manipulated. The person you’re talking to wants to use you for their purposes, to fight their fight with your help. In a regular, harmless gossip session, you feel just mildly amused. When you’re being manipulated, you feel a stronger emotion and want to act. Our emotion makes the actual difference.

The mechanics of manipulation are very old. The manipulator links your solidarity instinct with the justice instinct. We all are naturally inclined to emphasize with our interlocutor. That is how social cohesion works. At the same time, human have a deeply ingrained sense of fairness that has been found in animals as well. A manipulator uses two perfectly good instincts to recruit you into something that is good for her or him, but not necessarily for you. Then you find yourself fighting a pointless fight, or being embroiled in something you have no stake in. Once you join a pointless fight, it is difficult to retrieve, since you have already invested your reputation and capital in it. This why the initial hack is so important to notice.

A common pitch is like this: “They (administrators | other departments | junior faculty | senior faculty | T&P committee) are so incompetent | selfish | wrong | untrustworthy | greedy. They just did this (fill in with almost any action).” To manipulate others, you need to hit on a point they are already anxious about. With junior faculty, tenure and promotion always works well. With all faculty, allege violation of shared governance, because there are so many myths about shared governance in the first place. With administrators, exploit the anxiety about their performance. With women, touch on gender bias. With white men, there are too many anxieties to list. All of this could be done with an e-mail, just forward some private conversation, and add a few words to create some toxic context.

Smart people are manipulated just as easily as simpletons. In fact, people with better social instincts can become an easier prey, because their solidarity and fairness are well developed. This is why the Academia is so prone to group conflicts with very little substance. Such conflicts can last decades, and they damage souls of many otherwise wonderful people.

To avoid being manipulated is a discipline, a set of simple rules that many wise people discover on their own. However, some never do. It is not anything particularly new. The Buddhists probably figured it out the best, hence their stance against attachment, or clinging. The Stoics had similar ideas, and so did other religious traditions. A manipulator has invisible tentacles that attach themselves to your emotional veins and insert their fine poison. Imagine brushing off those tentacles, not allowing them to attach to your skin. That is what the Buddha meant.

The inoculation against being manipulated is simple. Ask yourself – why is s/he saying this to me? (This is an amazingly effective simple trick). What would the absent person or group say in response? What is their perspective? Can you be them for the sake of a conversation? Literally walk over to that other person(s) in question and ask for their perspective. Reflect on your own emotions – why am I feeling angry? Do I really care, or this is the manipulator’s agenda? Is the cause for our joined anger really a big deal? Is there too much drama? Are my emotions being hijacked? Don’t be too fast to empathize or express agreement. Do not commit to a possible manipulation stack; take time to think about it.

What about the manipulators? Why do they do it? Some people cannot live without some intrigue going on in their lives. It probably has to do with some unresolved middle school issues, where they had to have a victory over randomly appointed enemies, and collect an ever-greater army of supporters to do that. If you learn a few tricks, you can entertain yourself endlessly by stirring up conflict, outsmarting your enemies, and fooling the naïve to do your bidding. For others, it is an inept attempt to grab more power or at least influence. It never works, because those who fell victim of manipulation will eventually catch up to it, feel silly, and never trust the manipulator again. Manipulators are compulsive; it is a sort of addiction to steering up conflict. They cannot help it, and even more – their intentions are not all that bad. It is just a bad habit, and they are rarely happy because of that.

I have never seen a manipulator who is really good at it, although literature suggests they do exist. Or else, they are so good that I am being manipulated, but am not aware of it.