More Matter On being Presidential

Author: Matty Van Meter

As any person in an executive position knows, succeeding a popular and charismatic leader is no easy task. There is a natural inclination on the part of the people being managed to idolize the former administration, and to vilify the successor. I think President Ronald D. Liebowitz finds himself in such a position. Apart from being a great leader, President Emeritus John M. McCardell was a popular, charismatic and well-spoken president. He is a hard act to follow.

But why is McCardell's legacy so strong? And why does gaining student respect and loyalty seem to be a chronic, uphill battle for Liebowitz? After all, the last students who actually remember John McCardell's presidency of the College will be gone by next February.

Malcolm Gladwell, in his book "Blink", notices that our attitudes towards someone, and therefore our actions towards them, are largely affected by an arbitrary set of visual cues. Gladwell notes that Warren Harding, perhaps the worst president in American history, was elected in 1920 in large part because he was "irresistibly distinguished-looking." In other words, he looked presidential. This did not affect his actual performance as president, which was phenomenally ineffectual, but it affected the perception of his performance and certainly his chances of election.

How does this relate to Middlebury? In addition to the traits listed earlier, John McCardell's single most valuable asset with students was that he looked presidential. The analogy to Harding is limited since McCardell was a great president of the College, but it is the lingering memory of his authoritative, presidential presence - complete with myriad Facebook groups - that gives him continued popularity. Even those people who may not agree with the direction McCardell took the College in, still feel a pang of nostalgia.

To continue from Gladwell's lead, where does our current leader fall on the Harding scale? I think that few would dispute he appears less presidential than his predecessor. While he looks smart and young and handsome, he lacks the approachable, but quiet and distinguished composure of "Johnny Mac."

He also, for that matter, lacks a sufficiently catchy nickname.

These are judgments which all of us, like it or not, make in the blink of an eye. Again, unrelated to his actions, philosophy, or the direction he's taken the College, we judge Liebowitz on a set of visual cues.

This matters because there are chronic complaints that Liebowitz is not approachable, even though he holds open office hours and dines with students in Ross. Students complain that the new President is responsible for the perceived decline in social life on campus, an aspect of College life over which the president has little or no influence. There is also the feeling that he has done less for the College than his predecessor, though he has already refocused long-term spending, and raised the annual giving to the school-the courting and securing of which is a major job of the leader of any non-profit organization-to record heights. He was steady, concerned and articulate in the face of the heated and drawn-out debate over the Rehnquist professorship, and yet took much of the heat.

It is part of the job of a college president to be at once a figurehead and a punching bag-to be irrevocably associated with every action of the institution, savory and unsavory. But it seems that critics should take a step back and look objectively at Liebowitz's leadership, with more than a blink of the eye. He has done a fine job, and we all reap the rewards of his fruitful work.