UNIVERSITY PARK, Pa. -- Although Eric Barron is getting ready to settle into his role as Penn State’s 18th president, the time will inevitably come when his accomplishments as chief executive will be compared with those of his predecessors. How should the success of any college or university president be measured?
At Penn State, at least, the most successful leaders have articulated an overarching vision for how the institution could become an even more effective force for creating and disseminating knowledge, and also have succeeded in transforming that vision into reality.
Take Edwin Erle Sparks, for example. A former history professor at the University of Chicago, he came to Penn State in 1908 declaring that “the cloister aspect of a college is a thing of the past.” Public higher education must serve the masses. So Sparks dedicated himself to “taking Penn State to the people,” as he liked to say.
Under his leadership, the then-Pennsylvania State College inaugurated statewide cooperative extension programs in agriculture and home economics, and at Williamsport and Allentown established the first of a series of far-flung technical institutes — pioneer workforce education programs that equipped industrial workers with the engineering and supervisory skills they need to advance in their careers.
To be sure, a few presidents have demonstrated no vision, or the wrong kind. Joseph Shortlidge, who was named president of the college in 1880, had spent his career in secondary education. He was out of his depth in higher education and spent barely 10 months at Penn State’s helm. Shortlidge “exhibited a lack of wisdom, poise, tact, and executive ability,” wrote Wayland Dunaway in his History of the Pennsylvania State College (1946), and “was a complete failure as president.”
Then there have been presidents who manifested remarkable vision but failed to bring their grand ideas to fruition. John Martin Thomas, an ordained minister who had served as president of Vermont’s Middlebury College, is a good illustration.
Thomas, who began a four-year stint at Penn State in 1921, sought to transform a rural agricultural and mechanical college into a nationally known university in name and in fact. A university needed to offer a comprehensive program of advanced-degree and professional studies, Thomas reasoned, and he presided over the creation of the Graduate School in 1922. He lobbied hard among alumni and state lawmakers to rename the institution the Pennsylvania State University, but his plan was scuttled by traditionalists among alumni and by leaders of other public and private institutions who believed their own schools’ status would be diminished if Penn State became “the” state university.
Thomas also was the first president to appreciate the important role private support could play for Penn State, which was turning away thousands of qualified applicants each year because it had no room to accommodate them. He launched the Emergency Building Fund campaign, aiming to raise $2 million from alumni and friends for expansion of campus facilities. Under fire from critics who said a public institution should not be asking for private dollars, the campaign netted only $1.3 million (still enough to be combined later with state appropriations to help erect such landmark structures as Rec Hall, the new Old Main and Ritenour Building).
Thomas was far ahead of his time. Where he stumbled, Milton Eisenhower succeeded 30 years later. When Eisenhower became Penn State’s president in 1950, he saw immediately that the institution was doing university-level work, yet because it styled itself a college, it was not receiving the national recognition it deserved. He sensed the time was right for a change, and with little fanfare petitioned the Centre County Court of Common Pleas to approve a name change. The Pennsylvania State University became the legal title in 1953.