Restructuring the Conversation: Richard Bernstein on The New School Layoffs

Richard Bernstein: If you’re really going to understand this, I think you have to tell a larger story. Let me try and be as fair-minded as possible.

We hired a new president. It was clear before he was hired that The New School (TNS) had serious financial problems. I don’t like the term people are using, “the business model,” but the way we were surviving ultimately didn’t make sense. We were completely dependent on tuition. Whatever explanation you want to give, costs kept increasing, so tuition kept going up; the model was such that if you didn’t have your expected enrollment, there was already a financial problem.

Speaking of the whole institution, we have a high number of students who come from Asian countries. Now you get a situation where a lot of them can’t come, or don’t want to participate, and that only exacerbates things. This was before Covid. Everything gets worse when the virus comes.

Enrollment is down by 10% across the board, and at different divisions like Parsons, [this percentage] is much greater. The figure we’ve been given is a $130 million deficit. Well, the institution only has a $400 million endowment, so it’s a very severe problem.

Then a new president [Dwight McBride] arrives. Not only was there a problem beforehand, but now it’s been exacerbated. There can’t be face-to-face communication, so everything is on the internet. One can be sympathetic to the situation of Dwight McBride as he comes in.

At this point, the board has agreed that they will take a substantial amount from the endowment to help pay for this deficit, but that’s not enough to cover it. There have to be cuts. It’s not unusual. This is happening in most universities, so in that sense it’s general.

Firing is never going to be easy for anyone, but it could’ve been done in a much more humane way. People were notified that on a certain day there were going to be the firings. That only creates anxiety. The people who were going to be fired were only given one day’s notice. Some people thought that it would make it less brutal, but the whole thing was top-down. This is an institution that prides itself on self-determination, on having a voice. We have labor unions, and they asked to have a voice but didn’t.

I have a secondary criticism: many of the people who were fired who were secretaries or working in the Dean’s office or part-time, they’re not making a great deal of money. We don’t know. We don’t know the facts. My hypothesis would be that for many of the lower people, not the high administrators, the total amount of money involved was not a great amount.

Let me take my own division, The New School for Social Research (NSSR): Two secretaries were fired. The amount of money we’re going to save by firing them is not as great as their loyalty and contribution. Meaning, if one was earning $100,000, I could see that you’re saving a lot of money [by letting them go]. But if one was earning $60 or $70,000. . .

What aggravates it all was that it was top-down, [and] it seemed to come suddenly. We don’t always have the justification of knowing who was fired and why they were fired. You can’t explain everything to them, but that only creates anxiety, frustration, and anger. The attitude of many of these people who were fired: they felt betrayed. They’ve given a lot to the university: they’ve given time and loyalty. And then they get a letter that they’re going to be fired.

No staff, faculty or labor unions were involved. This was a mistake in terms of the general health of the university. The provost and the dean say, “Oh we try to be fair-minded, we try to minimize it,” and so on and so forth, but who made the decision? No faculty were ever consulted. Not they should’ve consulted me, but I’ll use this as an example. If I had been consulted, I or a group might’ve said, “Spare the secretaries. Spare the people who make less than $60,000.” Somebody might’ve said to me, “We can’t do it. We need the money.” But that conversation never took place.

The firing of the 122 is pretty disturbing. But what’s more disturbing is talking about restructuring the whole university without giving any kind of concrete clue about what that means, the parameters. What it does, what it has certainly done in my faculty, is it begins to make us think that the plan is to eliminate us as a separate unit. How is this university going to fundamentally change? Those words are there all the time, but they have no content; there’s no filling to them.

Across the divisions, people seem to agree that there’s some kind of master plan from the administration that will go into effect without other voices being heard.

During the summer when a lot of people were away, it was announced that we were going to have a task force representing different institutions to talk about imaginative ways for reconstructing. We were told that that task force was appointed in the last week of August, that it had to make a preliminary report to the board of trustees by September 15th and a final report by December 15th. Well, you’re giving a schedule that a lot of people in all divisions got upset about because it really looked as if a plan was going to be rammed through. It’s become clear through a lot of protests that things are going to happen a lot slower. If the higher administration had spoken to our institutions, we could’ve told them that it’s insane to talk about restructuring in such a short period. There could’ve been a much more rational approach, and this could’ve avoided a lot of anger and anxiety. It’s not just communication. That’s not the issue. It’s consultation.

I’m not convinced that they needed this Huron [Consulting Group]. But let’s say the board of trustees decides it and wants to spend the money for it. Share the information with the faculty, staff and students! Let everyone know. Why should there be a report about how to cut expenses when the faculty and the staff are not informed of it and can’t respond to it?

Huron did not deal with anybody in the NSSR. My impression is that they did not [deal with the other schools] and only dealt with the administration. I may be wrong, but I don’t think I am. They certainly did not meet with our dean or our faculty at the NSSR at all. Whatever recommendations they made had nothing to do with our input.

We have a very distinguished economics department at the NSSR. There have been several members, one in particular, who have done very careful studies of the financial situation at TNS right now. Indeed, they’ve raised many skeptical questions about the way things have been proceeding.

But the major point: whether right or wrong, they’ve not been consulted. You’ve got economists who deal with issues of liquidity all the time and who know this institution. Again, it was a serious mistake that they have not been consulted. I know as a fact that Huron never consulted with members of our economics faculty.

At every point, there has been this failure to attempt conversation. A university is not a democracy. There are people who have to make hard decisions. But that is not incompatible with listening [to] and evaluating the opinions of different constituencies.

There is a tendency some people like to call “the neoliberal model,” and to some extent it is. The administration has been primarily top-down. At least in this period, they’re making the important decisions. There is a certain sense in which you have to have certain top-down functions for development, finances, etc. But TNS is not like other universities. It’s not like Northwestern or Duke or Yale, and there are historical reasons for it.

I’ve been at The New School teaching regularly since 1989. Many things changed. In 1989, the various divisions such as Parsons, Lang, graduate faculty, and the adult division were almost completely autonomous. In fact, it was such an extreme that there were different time schedules for classes, there were different fees— it was almost as if we were more or less independent institutions. There’s still many feelings about differences between these institutions, but [there’s] much greater unity. For example, it was just not possible to have an undergraduate core class with students, say, from Parsons at Lang or from Lang at the Jazz School. It just didn’t exist. Now it exists.

There isn’t a real possibility of returning to the older model of the 1990s. In the 90s, we really didn’t have that many undergraduates. At some point, TNS realizes that they have this tremendous undergraduate population and that they’ve got to really service them. One of the most dramatic improvements is in connection with Lang. I don’t know if you realize that Lang at the end of the ‘80s was really a ragtag institution. There were virtually no permanent faculty: all the faculty were part-time. It was a grab bag of what was taught, and I think that was also true of the students.

Particularly under its current dean, [Stephanie Browner], there’s been a tremendous improvement of Lang. You have good and bad students at Lang, but the critical core of really good students is something that happened only in the last 10 or 15 years. She’s been a very good dean, in my opinion. Of course, this is a critical institution, but in general, she has the respect of your faculty. I think she’s done a terrific job, and I like to think that undergraduates benefit from the fact that I and other faculty teach here.

I have a lot of admiration for Stephanie [Browner], and I take it that you know she’s now acting provost. She’s in a difficult position. As provost, she has to carry out the decisions of the president and the board of trustees, but she’s been here long enough to know what this place is really like. She has something the president has not yet achieved: she has the trust of the faculty.

Since President McBride came in April, the former provost, Tim Marshall, has met with the faculty on many occasions and has done his best to explain and to listen. I really want to give high points to Tim Marshall and Stephanie Browner for this. But to the faculty, the president is a complete unknown, not in terms of the public statements he’s made, but in how he responds to criticism directly.

If TNS is going to survive, it is essential that the president builds a sense of trust. There are a lot of things that have undermined that trust. Now, you have faculty and staff across the board who are deeply skeptical of the president, which is unfortunate because he has good ideas.

In terms of his official pronouncements, many of them are very encouraging. He really does want to bring about more diversity in faculty and students here. That’s all to the good. He does want to see that there are fellowships for minority groups, and that talk is encouraging. But that talk also means that you have money to do things. How are you going to do it? You can use the general terms “diversity” or “social justice,” but those are clichés unless you see how they’re spelled out.

I think that it’s shocking that he’s been here for 6 months— let’s take my own division because he takes great pride in the idea of PHDs and so forth. I think it’s shocking that he has made no attempt to talk to our faculty until this week. Read our books, come to our classes, get to know what we’re doing. Don’t just consult me about some hard decisions that need to be made— get to know me!

The reason he’s making the attempt is because many of us were so upset that we went to members of the board who are sympathetic to us and asked them to tell him that he’s got to do this. I think he’s at least acting on their advice now. There’s been so much resistance and reaction to this that the president has finally gotten the word and is trying to make an attempt to get to know us better by speaking to small groups of faculty and staff.

The president has learned a lesson, a painful lesson, by not really encountering us. I’m thinking of the faculty and staff throughout the university who never had a real to-and-fro. It doesn’t have to be small scale, but let’s have a real discussion or debate.

The president frequently refers to his leadership team. He talks as if he has a leadership that represents the university. There are no faculty on that leadership team. So what does it mean if you’re consulting a bunch of vice presidents and they’re telling you what to do and claiming to be concerned with the institution, but that team doesn’t concern the faculty, students and staff, the heart of the university?

The first principle when you’re in a difficult situation: If you don’t know what’s going on you’re going to imagine the worst.

Unfortunately, I think conspiracy is allowed like a festering sore to develop. I think McBride would be shocked if he heard that among the faculty there’s a conspiracy about the higher administration, that they’re trying to change us in ways that are unacceptable to us but that he and his cohorts think have to be done. Unfortunately, I think a lot of people believe that. Why do they believe that? I’ll give you a reason why they believe it.

When people hear that there are going to be changes, they have no idea what they’re going to be. They’re told these changes are going to be made by a team that has nothing to do with them. That only exaggerates the anxiety in all the divisions. You cannot avoid it completely. You cannot begin cutting things and then minimize some of the excessive frustration, anger and lack of trust. So you get a kind of conspiracy about the people up there. It’s not true that there’s a conspiracy theory, but they’re inviting one by not involving other constituencies in the decision-making process.

One of the prevailing rumors is that they’re going to make Parsons, Lang, and the NSSR into one liberal arts institution. There is one way that could come to be which would be disastrous and another way it could come to be which would be satisfactory. Let me spell that out a little bit more.

Take Lang and the NSSR: the esprits of these two institutions are different from one another. The schools have different cultures and different characters. That has to be respected as well as mollified. If we put these two institutions together as one, there is a wiping out of what’s distinctive. There is a way to try and get us closer together in which you respect the integrity and autonomy of these two institutions. One mistake of the present administration [was that], before starting to talk about restructuring, [they did not] get a sense of what is distinctive about Lang or the NSSR. What are our faults? Then you begin to see how to restructure things so that you can respect what’s best about each institution and avoid some of the weaknesses and so forth.

The most generous thing you can say is that the president didn’t have the opportunity to do that.

No faculty member has a clue about what this concretely means and when it’s going to happen. And that, I know, has caused enormous anger and frustration.

Remember in Hannah Arendt[‘s On Revolution], we read one passage about the councils where the people say, “We want to participate. We want to have some determination in our fate.” Participation doesn’t mean running it: it just means having a voice.

If something like [a council] had taken place 6 months ago, things would be better at the college. But if things are coming down and [the higher administration] says, “Here is our decision: we’re cutting your salaries, we’re eliminating your research funds, and we’re no longer going to contribute to pensions.” These are all things that have been done, but without ever talking to us about it. It begins to feed a conspiracy theory that the people at the top have made up a plan, that they’re just informing us of what’s going on, and they’re not really respecting us as members of this community.

That is, unfortunately, the image that has been allowed to grow up. I don’t think [President McBride] thinks that way, but he certainly hasn’t acted in a way to clarify that that’s not what’s going on. He comes, he makes a speech for 30 minutes, and there’s no chance for discussion. This only increases frustration. He may think, “Hey, I’m just trying to explain myself,” but consultation is not the same thing as listening to a person express their ideas without interchange. I don’t want to demonize President McBride. Remember, he comes out of extraordinary circumstances, not only the finances but the Covid— he can’t really speak to people face-to-face. Granted all of that, you have to make special efforts to break out of that cocoon. That [cocoon] festers conspiracy theories.

There are plenty of rumors— not only rumors, there are facts. We have many unions at TNS— staff unions, part-time, cafeteria workers— and the union coalition has asked to meet. So far, the administration has not done that. [President McBride] should be as open as possible. Granted he’s finite, he only has so many hours in a day, but open as possible to talking.

The traditional leadership model that [President McBride has] adopted doesn’t work for us. He’s got to focus on the board of trustees and fundraising, while the provost handles all academic matters. Here, it’s not sufficient.

If we begin to see signs of a real change of behavior of the administration so that we can begin to restore a sense of trust, that is what’s needed. It’s going to depend on the actions of the higher administration. One has to make distinctions. If we take the former provost, Tim Marshall, and the acting provost, Stephanie Browner, Stephanie and Tim have the trust of the faculty. If they say something to them and they have the authority to say it, people will take it in good faith, though they might be critical of what they’re saying. The majority of the faculty do not trust this president. Why don’t they trust the president? Because the president has not engaged in dialogue with them. He’s beginning to, and we’ll see if this makes a difference.

In the NSSR, we have a committee that consists of chairs of the department. Why don’t you meet with them once a month? I think it would be a desirable thing if he met with other faculties and if these can be open forums with students— not just where he comes and makes a speech but has a real discussion with them. We have to be reasonable, we can’t expect him to listen to every single student, but this would be a way to improve trust. Why doesn’t the president have opportunities for discussion with different groups or student bodies regularly?

I doubt very much if they’re going to rescind on the firings of the 122. There will be protests, there’ll be anger, they’ll talk about empathy, but I don’t think it’s going to change much.

But I do think it would be a good thing if the President would regularly meet with students, faculty, and staff, so he can listen to them. I think students need to decide what forms of consultation they would like to have with the president and provost— not just the provost, I want the president to be there. The way the president will build trust is not simply by relying on his VP or his Provost, but directly: trying to meet with the different faculties, talking to them, and listening to them. That is the way that trust will be rebuilt.

[For students], there is a lot that can be done in terms of what’s negative. Make it perfectly clear to the higher administration that it looks like the way that this institution is being run is unsatisfactory.

I’m much more concerned— not about hitting him over the head about things that have gone on the last few months— but with what will be constructive moving forward. He’s got to rebuild the trust of the whole community— faculty, students, and staff.

I don’t want to dehumanize him. I don’t want to just complain. I don’t want to give a litany of all the things I think could’ve been done differently in the last months. I’m much more concerned with the future.

It will never be completely harmonious. As Hannah Arendt would say, “No one’s ever going to love each other,” but we could begin moving, given the distinctiveness of TNS, to a much greater sense of participation, not just with nice words, but with real actions.

Dr. Richard J. Bernstein is a celebrated scholar of American Pragmatism and the author of more than a dozen books spanning 50 years of philosophical engagement. Prof. Bernstein helped shape the graduate faculty of The New School for Social Research, where he has taught since 1989 and served as both chair of the Philosophy Department and dean. He is an engaged public intellectual concerned not only with the specialized debates of academic philosophy, but also with the larger issues that touch upon social, political, and cultural aspects of contemporary life.

Next time: Henry Drobbin, senior secretary for the politics department at the NSSR and lead steward for administrative and clerical workers, library workers, and professional librarians at TNS. Local 1205. Teamsters.