"Negotiating the Master Plan"
An excerpt from John Aubrey Douglass, The California
Idea and American Higher Education (Stanford University
Press, 2000), pp. 265-275
If they don't come up with something,
we will do it ourselves . . . we have to move ahead
on this Master Plan.
Governor Edmund "Pat" Brown, 1959
As California struggled to find
a common vision for its higher education system in
the late 1950s, other states were engaged in a similar
debate. Commenting on the lack of state coordination
within rapidly growing state systems of higher education,
James Conant, the former president at Harvard, described
his "sense of horror at the disarray [he] found
in a number of large and important states." After
touring the nation to assess and future of the America's
education system, he urged states to "plan more
carefully for the development of education beyond
the high school." Throughout the nation, lawmakers
were concerned with not only expanding access to postsecondary
education, but with controlling rising costs and correcting
what appeared to be gross inefficiencies in their
network of colleges and universities. The popular
solution among state policymakers was to centralize
governing authority under one board and to establish
more stringent regulatory mechanisms for budget allocations
and personnel management.
The post-World War II era was a
significant period of reorganization in American higher
education. Of the approximately seventeen states during
the late 1950s and early 1960s that modified their
public and private systems to promote coordination
and control costs, most looked toward reducing the
autonomy of their public higher education institutions
-- a general trend that continues today, much to the
consternation of educational leaders. As Lyman Glenny
observed in 1959, state governments found it imperative
to develop formal coordinating mechanisms. "Legislatures,
in response to the competition for funds," explained
Glenny, "have increasingly turned to superboards
or commissions of lay persons with a professional
staff for information and recommendations on public
higher education. They expect such a board to make
the higher educational system more productive, efficient,
and economical." As a result, in some states
a lay board appointed by the governor and the legislature
suddenly had purview over numerous state institutions
that had been independent for decades, and in some
instances more than a century. Statewide consolidation
or unification, notes Hugh Graham in a more recent
analysis of trends in higher education that includes
North Carolina, "frequently resembled shotgun
weddings sponsored by impatient governors and legislators."
With the trend toward greater state
control of higher education and the increased Cold
War-era scrutiny of universities and colleges and
the activities of faculty, historians Richard Hofstadter
and Walter Metzger called the apparent erosion in
institutional autonomy and attacks on academic freedom
as "one of the central issues of our time."
Was autonomy, a major feature of American higher education
and an ideal cherished by university and college presidents
and faculty, to whither under the pressures of ideological
shifts, unprecedented enrollment expansion, and budgetary
constraints?
Marritt M. Chambers, a professor
at Indiana University, voiced his alarm at what he
called the "meat cleaver" approach of legislators
seeking increased budgetary controls, and new influence
on the goals, policies, and programs of institutions:
"Higher education is a unique function of the
state, not to be confused with road-paving or police
work or the custodial care of the mentally or physically
handicapped, not to be drawn into a tight fiscal strait-jacket
whose key is held by statehouse fiscal clerks . .
. . The detailed central fiscal controls regarded
as suitable for a chain of supermarkets or filling-stations,"
he continued, "are not appropriate for a state
system of public higher education." Getting the
maximum educational value for every tax dollar spent
for higher education, concluded Chambers, "is
accomplished by allowing competent and civic-minded
governing boards to select superior presidents and
faculties for their institutions, and then providing
them with resources and reasonable freedom in making
the most of those resources." In an often-repeated
aphorism among university officials, Washington State
University President C. Clement French proclaimed
before his anxious legislators determined to bring
order to the perceived chaos in the state's growing
network of public universities and colleges, "You
may gain another state department, but you will certainly
lose a great state University."
Conscious of the national trend
toward centralization of state systems of higher education,
and the predilections of powerful political leaders
such as State Senator George Miller, Clark Kerr and
other in California's education community recognized
that the Master Plan negotiations might be their last
chance to influence reform. A failure to create a
politically palatable plan would almost certainly
guarantee significant if not radical reform of the
tripartite system. For University of California officials,
there was a fear that lawmakers might elevate the
programs and role of the state colleges; more worrisome,
legislators and Governor Brown might attempt a constitutional
amendment that would erode the university's autonomy
and provide greater regulatory control by both the
legislature and state agencies. State college officials
such as San Diego's Malcolm Love imagined another
scenario: Kerr might successfully revive the idea
of university control of the state colleges, winning
the support of the new Democratic leadership in Sacramento
who wanted to control the spiraling costs of public
higher education. Pressure was building to come to
some resolution. An editorial in the Los Angeles Times
noted that "The Patchy development of the State
Colleges may reflect regional necessities, but it
has become clear that the state must have a master
plan for higher education, not only for the state
colleges, but for the branching University of California."
Kerr later claimed that the path
to the Master Plan was not the end result of a clearly
constructed strategic plan either by university officials
or other members of the higher education community
in California. "We were not on the Acropolis
looking back on events," weighing theoretical
alternatives, Kerr reflected in 1990, "but down
in the Agora, the marketplace, making deals under
the discipline of time and deadlines." Yet the
ultimate approval of the plan by the two boards and
lawmakers was clearly the result of Kerr's efforts,
and the outcome of a clear if at times risky strategy.
At the opening of the negotiation process, it was
understood that the stakes were extremely high, for
the University of California and the state colleges,
and for the people of California.
The Love Plan
A week after the California Legislature
passed Dorothy Donahoe's resolution calling for a
Master Plan, Kerr and Simpson agreed that the plan
be completed by a nine member Joint Advisory Committee
(JAC) to the Liaison Committee. The JAC had been established
in the early 1950s to help the Liaison Committee on
key issues and consisted of state college presidents,
university chancellors, and representatives from the
junior colleges. Staff for the JAC included Thomas
C. Holy for the university and Arthur Brown for the
department of education. Kerr and Simpson asked the
JAC to immediately negotiate one of the most contested
questions facing California public higher education:
what was the appropriate function of each segment
of the public system? Kerr and Simpson agreed that
two other key issues, governance and enrollment expansion,
would follow the resolution of segmental functions.
But placing the burden of negotiating the Master Plan
before on JAC would prove problematic for the university.
In preparing for the first JAC
meeting, Dean McHenry suggested a strategy for Kerr
and university officials. Kerr had known McHenry since
their days in graduate school at Berkeley where they
roomed together. McHenry was born in Lompoc, California
and received his B.A. from UCLA in 1932. Four years
later he had a Ph.D. from Berkeley. McHenry then accepted
a faculty position at UCLA in the department of political
science. After serving in the Navy during World War
II, he returned to UCLA and between 1947 and 1950
served as the dean of the social sciences. McHenry
scholarly passion around California politics and the
workings of state and local government -- a passion
that he then converted into an attempt at a political
career. He was an active member of the California
Democratic Council, and ran unsuccessfully for the
State Assembly in the early 1950s. When Kerr became
president in 1958, he asked his politically astute
and good friend to become an "academic assistant."
McHenry accepted, while still retaining his faculty
position at UCLA.
McHenry became Kerr's primary strategist
and confidant in the difficult days that lay ahead.
He told Kerr that the university needed to assess
those "areas most vital . . . to the university
system, the loss of which would be disastrous, and
the sharing of which would lead to the depletion of
quality and/or the slow starvation of the portion
of functions left with UC." At all costs, argued
McHenry, the university must prevent the state colleges
from being called universities, and never relinquish
doctoral degrees to the state college system -- although
the university might yield the Ed.D. and honorary
degrees, he explained). He was also adamant, as Sproul
was, that the university obstruct any attempt to enlarge
the state colleges' research function. Any change
in name or new degrees, noted McHenry, should require
legislative action to amend the Education Code or,
possibly, the state constitution. Among legislators,
he told Kerr, "we must build up such strength
that they will fear to propose lest they fail."
To do so, the university must "tell them frankly
what our vital interests are." In short, he claimed,
if a joint agreement fails, "we will fight them
in the first house, second house, the governor's office,
etc. If they get a bill through we hold it up in referendum."
McHenry hoped that the university might "score
regular six-to-three victories," in JAC meetings.
The state college presidents had
other ideas. They had already circulated their three-point
plan for higher education in Sacramento. Now they
brought it to the negotiation table with some interesting
twists. At the next meeting of the JAC in late March,
Malcolm Love offered a radical "redefinition"
of state college and university functions. Under the
"Love Plan" the state colleges would become
universities offering undergraduate liberal education
and occupational and professional curricula, with
"specialization continued at the graduate level
and culminating in an advanced degree." This
would include the Ph.D., a research function with
state support for buildings, and a reduction in the
teaching loads of faculty. At the same time, the University
of California would reduce its admission of undergraduate
and focus on the training of advanced research scholars.
Terminal master's degrees would cease to be given,
and the university would admit students from the top
tenth of the high school graduating class -- down
from approximately the top fifteen per cent it had
accepted since the Progressive Era.
Kerr asked McHenry to attend all
the JAC meetings and report to him their activities.
He was traumatized by the acquiescence of the university's
representatives. Chancellors Glenn Seaborg (Berkeley),
Verne Knudsen (UCLA) and Stan Freeborn (Davis) had
been appointed to uphold the university's interests.
Despite Kerr's instructions, the Love Plan entranced
them. The three chancellors -- each highly respected
scientists, with Seaborg a Nobel prize winner -- listen
intently as Love and his politically savvy colleagues,
San Francisco State President Glenn Dumke and San
Jose State President Wahlquist, explained the advantages
of the plan. As McHenry silently watched, deferring
to his superiors, the three chancellor's immediately
noted their general agreement, indeed enthusiasm for
the proposal. They were attracted to the graduate
and research emphasis that appeared to them the true
calling of the University of California -- an image
that had captured the imagination of Benjamin Ide
Wheeler and David Starr Jordan fifty years before.
McHenry reported back to Kerr with alarm. "Having
failed to do their homework, these boys have practically
given on a silver platter what we have kept from them
by force of logic and by power of the legislature,"
complained McHenry to Kerr. "Deliver us from
naive scientists!"
The Love Plan would fulfill the
major objectives of the state college presidents.
McHenry analyzed President Love's opening move, noting
to Kerr that "tactically, it appears that we
were outmaneuvered . . . . the state colleges are
to take over nearly everything." What remained
was a university "pricing itself out of the undergraduate
market and living in the stratosphere with Ravel and
the Deity . . . shooting [UC] into space. Sad thing
is that there is little in the way of refueling up
there and some solid BTU's and dollars are required
to keep such an expensive mechanism operating."
Vernon Cheadle, a professor of botany at Davis and
chair of that campus' Education Policy Committee,
noted that "the University has been beaten to
the punch, consciously or unconsciously, and has been
thrown into a defensive position." An academic
senate committee called Love's proposal "unacceptable."
It would create "a second University system in
California," and mark the beginning of the end
of the university's dominant position in the state's
hierarchy of public higher education.
Several days after the Love Plan
was unveiled, Chancellor Knudsen innocently sent Kerr
an outline of segmental functions that reflected Love's
proposal, noting its advantages and conceding doctorate
programs to the state colleges as inevitable. Why
"give away our heritage," exclaimed an upset
McHenry. He urged Kerr to immediately replace Seaborg,
Knudsen, and Freeborn on the JAC, or insist that their
views represent those of the university president
and the Regents. Otherwise, McHenry warned, the legacy
of Kerr's presidency would be a black-mark in the
history of the University of California. "During
the Kerr era, the Empire becomes Commonwealth,"
eulogized McHenry. "Another 'babes in the woods'
act like that and Kerr may preside over the liquidation
of the new Commonwealth. Or its twilight?"
President Kerr responded by sending
a letter addressed to Vice President Harry Wellman
and routed to Freeborn, Knudsen, and Seaborg. Kerr
noted that he was "disturbed" by the discussion
at the JAC, and that the "University must have
a unified position at this time of great crises in
its external relations . . . . The Love proposals
on the functions of the University would make it such
an elitist institution that it might no longer endure."
Under no circumstances, noted Kerr, should the university
accept such a broad definition of the state college
mission. Less than a month later, Kerr replaced Knudsen
and a retiring Freeborn with two new Kerr appointees:
the new chancellor at Davis, Emil Mrak, and the new
chancellor at Riverside, Herman Spieth. By the end
of July, Seaborg had also been replaced by the new
chancellor at Santa Barbara, Samuel B. Gould. All
three replacements were viewed by Kerr and McHenry
as more politically adept for the challenges ahead.
Kerr then forcefully told superintendent
Simpson that the Love Plan was unacceptable. At a
meeting of the state college presidents, an angry
Malcolm Love retorted that Kerr had "prematurely
rejected the statement . . . without full study and
consideration by everyone concerned." Love and
the others presidents also noted their worry that
Kerr and the university were attempting to forge a
consensus among lawmakers in Sacramento toward absorption
of the state colleges under the Regents -- a fate
that would presumably end all hope of new graduate
programs and make their institutions "second
rate citizens" within the university system.
It was also reported by Glenn Dumke that Governor
Brown now seemed to be in favor of this change or
a similar reform, joining Senator Miller.
In the wake of the Love Plan, Kerr
considered abandoning the Master Plan negotiations.
Valuable time had been lost, and the bold and populist
demands of Malcolm Love and his compatriots posed
a serious challenge to the university. Kerr asked
key faculty for their advice. William S. Briscoe,
a professor of education at UCLA, advocated the swift
absorption by the Regents of the state colleges. "I
feel we are facing a crisis," he exclaimed. Tom
Holy agreed. He had been the university representative
on the JAC since its creation in 1953, and now warned
that the system of voluntary coordination was collapsing.
In his opinion, it probably could not be resurrected.
Holy concluded that it was perhaps time for the university
to launch a hostile take-over of the state colleges.
"Statements of public officials, legislators
and others," he explained, "leave the impression
that chaos reigns and that millions of dollars of
the taxpayers' money is being wasted in the struggle
between the University and the state colleges."
This, combined with "the fact the president Kerr
is in his `honeymoon period'" with lawmakers
and the public, Holy argued, "offered an opportune
time for the University taking control of the colleges."
But McHenry thought differently.
Reflecting the concerns of former university president
Robert Sproul in the 1930s and 1940s, McHenry warned
that such a bold move would raise substantial political
opposition, and result in legislation abhorrent to
the university. Even if the university was successful
in its conquest, the Regents would then face the difficult
task of managing two competing groups of institutions.
The resolve of the lay board to protect the university's
teaching and research mission might fade over time.
There would be building pressure on the board for
the state colleges to reach some form of parity with
the campuses of the university -- pressure that might
eventually come from within the board as new governors
chose new Regents with allegiances to the state colleges.
He urged Kerr not to abandon the negotiations. Kerr's
legal council also advised against absorption of the
state colleges: it was bound to raise question's regarding
the proper level of autonomy for the university, and
possibly a movement to end the university's status
as a constitutionally protected public trust. Kerr
decided to keep with the negotiations, but would attempt
to abandon the JAC as a forum to complete the planning
study. Chancellors within the UC system appeared consumed
by the interests of their own campuses. At the same
time, the formidable state college presidents on the
committee had a clear agenda that promised little
if any compromise. A new forum for negotiating the
plan was needed, with new players. At the same time,
and as a contingency plan, Kerr would keep open the
option of a constitutional amendment to place the
state college under the Regents.
Organizing the Plan
In late May of 1959, a little over
a month after Love's gambit and with eight months
until the plan was to be submitted to the California
Legislature, Kerr gained Superintendent Roy Simpson's
agreement to create a "Master Plan Survey Team."
The team would include representatives from the university,
the state colleges, the junior colleges, and private
institutions who had been lobbying in Sacramento for
a role in the negotiations. Most importantly, it would
include as chair an arbitrator without ties to either
the university or the state colleges. Simpson agreed.
Though he remained a reluctant supporter of the Master
Plan, he was cognizant of the need to complete the
plan to maintain, indeed rebuild, his reputation with
lawmakers and the public. Members of the Board of
Regents and the California State Board of Education
also agreed to the survey team. The two boards, under
the weight of a schedule set by lawmakers, had already
lost nearly two-months of precious time to complete
the plan.
The state college presidents were
angry over the abandonment of the JAC, and Simpson's
capitulation to a new forum for the negotiations.
University officials, they believed, had created a
survey team with another university ally: representatives
from the private institutions. However, the key to
the negotiations, the state college presidents realized,
lay perhaps in the selection of the chair of survey
team. Here they found some comfort with the naming
of Arthur G. Coons to act as an arbitrator between
the warring factions, and the university and the state
colleges in particular.
Kerr and Simpson considered several
people before agreeing to Coons as the survey team
chair. Because of his ties with the legislature as
the chief budget analyst and his good reputation,
Alan Post was one candidate; so was Wilson E. Lyon,
president of Pomona College. Finally in early June
they agreed on Coons, the long-time president of Occidental
College. "It was clear I would be under the necessity
of trying to get the 'warring' factions into sufficient
agreement fast enough to fulfill the Legislature's
demands," reflected Coons in 1968. He agreed
to chair the survey team, even though two Occidental
trustees strongly opposed his decision. It would take
him away from his duties at the small liberal arts
college. Friends and trustees at the college told
him that any attempt to resolve the infighting within
the higher education community on the one side and
the reckless abandon of legislators on the other would
certainly "ruin his health." Coons had already
experience a heart attack in early 1957.
A Californian who grew up in the
Los Angeles area, Coons began his academic career
as a teacher at Fullerton junior college before becoming
a faculty member at the Claremont Graduate School.
In 1950 he was named president of Occidental. Glenn
Dumke, the president of San Francisco State, had spent
most of his academic and administrative career at
Occidental, and had served under Coons as a dean.
Dumke reported to his fellow state college presidents
that Coons could be counted on to provide a fair hearing
for their interests.
The other eight members of the
survey team where also chosen by Kerr and Simpson
and included Glenn Dumke for the state colleges and
Dean McHenry for the university. Henry T. Tyler was
selected to represent the junior colleges. Tyler was
the Executive Secretary for the California Junior
College Association. The Association of Independent
Colleges and Universities appointed Robert J. Wert,
vice provost at Stanford University. Thomas C. Holy
for the university, Arthur Browne for the State Department
of Education, and retired superintendent of the Los
Angeles Public Schools Howard A. Campion were appointed
to act as staff to the team.
Coons and the survey team were
to consider six major questions. None assumed any
major shift in California's commitment to expanding
access to higher education; rather they focused on
ways to make modifications in the tripartite system
that had emerged largely in the Progressive Era. The
first concerned enrollment: What was their projection
of student enrollment demand from 1960 to 1975, and
how might they be distributed among the three public
segments. The second issue related to segmental functions
-- a source of heated debate. "In light of new
and changing circumstances," explained the survey
team's mandate, "what modifications should be
made in the existing agreements on the differentiation
of functions among the junior colleges, state colleges
and the University of California?" After addressing
these two questions, the team needed to provide a
priority list and schedule for establishing new campuses;
estimate the cost of capital and annual operations
to the state; and assess California government's ability
to pay for the expansion plan. The sixth and final
challenge of the survey team was to recommend the
appropriate model for the governance and coordination
of the system.
To assist the work of the survey
team, six "technical committees" were established,
each focusing on one of the six planning issues stated
in the charge for the survey team. These committees
were chaired by faculty and administrators from the
public tripartite system, and were largely fact-finding
groups with representatives from all the public and
private segments.
Organization of Master Plan Study: 1959
Arthur Coons initially favored
a single governing board for all public higher education
in California. In his view, it needed to have "inclusive
and extensive authority and power" over the tripartite
system. In no small part, this position reflected
his experience as a president of Occidental College.
"Coons was one of the old line college presidents,"
later reflected Glenn Dumke, "who operated very
autocratically and with insistence that there be central
control . . . he ran a very tight ship." Coons
desired order and saw in California public higher
education a level of disarray that needed to be forcefully
addressed. This was a viewpoint he brought openly
to the first meeting of the survey team on June 16,
1959. Coons' predilection was reinforced by a comparative
study of other state higher education governance system
that had been conducted by Tom Holy and Arthur Browne
two months earlier. Holy and Browne reported that
three general organizational structures could be found
in state systems of public higher education in the
United States. The first model offered no central
governance mechanism, and reflected a laissez faire
approach: each institution, or campus, had its own
board that would then report directly to the legislature.
Approximately ten states, they noted, functioned in
this manner.
The second model, that of a single
board with authority over all public higher education,
could be found in twenty states. In most of these
states, a single board governed all public colleges
and universities. In Oklahoma, New York, New Mexico,
Texas, Wisconsin, and North Carolina, a "superboard"
was imposed over existing boards for the teachers
colleges and the other public colleges and universities
in the state. These local boards were subservient
to the superboard whose responsibilities included
approving all academic programs, establishing all
new campuses, and the preparation of a single budget
for all state supported higher education. According
to Lyman A. Glenny, a former staff member for the
Restudy Report and a Sacramento State faculty member,
seven other states were in the process of shifting
to a single board model (sometimes called a "coordinating
agency") with various levels of authority, including
Arkansas, Colorado, Louisiana, Tennessee, Utah, Michigan,
and Illinois.
The third model, with two separate
boards for the state land-grant university and for
the state colleges, could be found in approximately
eighteen states, including California. Within this
model, only three states had a voluntary coordinating
mechanism, California, Ohio, and Indiana. And in Ohio
and Indiana, voluntary boards were formed in the face
of a legislative threat to establish a single board.
In Coons' opinion, there was little if any chance
to resurrect a workable voluntary mechanism, like
the Liaison Committee, in California. In the face
of a rising tide of enrollment demand and the often
bitter feuds between the university and the state
colleges, a single board seemed the most effective
and responsible course. But he knew that finding an
agreement among the survey team was going to be extremely
difficult. He hoped to first settle the issue of the
function of the various public segments of the public
tripartite system before focusing on governance. This
would also prove a contentious issue, Coons believed.
But he hoped there was enough room for attaining concessions
from both the university and the state colleges. In
turn, this might then provide an opening for gaining
mutual trust and a shared vision on how the system
would be governed.
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