For the Love of Michigan

A Half Century of Serving
the University of Michigan
Anne and Jim Duderstadt

In 2018, the first year of the University of Michigan’s
“third century”, the Duderstadts will complete their
50th year as members of the University. During this half
century they have served in a variety of roles and seen
the University and its surrounding community from an
array of perspectives.
From the academic perspective, Jim’s rise through
the ranks as a faculty member in Engineering was rather
traditional, at least until he began to descend through
the various levels of Dante’s inferno of academic
administration: dean, provost, and finally president of
the University, only to be reincarnated once again as a
faculty member–albeit mostly unseen and unheard on
the Michigan campus as a has-been president. Anne
rose more rapidly to leadership roles in the University,
both through organizations such as the Faculty
Women’s Club and then as “deanette”, “provostess”,
and “first lady” of the University, and as institutional
advancement officer, managing hundreds of events,
several major facilities, and hosting thousands of
faculty, students, alumni, and guests of the University.
Anne also found “life-after” productive, by continuing
her strong efforts to document the remarkable history
of the University of Michigan through a series of books
and websites.
In part for the record, in part for their family and
colleagues, and in part just for their personal catharsis,
they have sought to chronicle this journey into the
depths of academic administration and their escape
back again to the joy of faculty life through five decades
of service to the University of Michigan. Although
many of their experiences were characterized by the
expected degree of seriousness and solemnity, they
have chosen to describe them in a more humorous
tone. They certainly hope that the reader will excuse
this spirit of humor, amusement, and occasional
wonder. Certainly no disrespect is intended, either
for the University they have served for so long or the
hundreds–indeed thousands–of people who have made
similar commitments to Michigan. Rather, they prefer
to view these experiences, both good and bad, both
successes and failures, through the rose-colored glasses
of humor and good intentions. Besides, this perspective
seems to help in making sense out of the complex
array of experiences and happenings characterizing a
modern university presidency.

About the Authors
Dr. James J. Duderstadt is President Emeritus and
University Professor of Science and Engineering at
the University of Michigan. After his undergraduate
(Yale B.Eng, 1964) and graduate degrees (Caltech, M.S.,
Ph.D., 1967), he joined the faculty of the University
of Michigan in 1968 in the Department of Nuclear
Engineering, rising through the ranks to full professor
in 1975, becoming Dean of the College of Engineering
in 1981 and then Provost and Vice President for
Academic Affairs in 1986. He was elected President of
the University of Michigan in 1988 and served in this
role until 1996. He currently holds a university-wide
faculty appointment as University Professor of Science
and Engineering, teaching in the University’s program
in Science, Technology, and Public Policy and directing
the Millennium Project, a research center exploring the
impact of over-the-horizon technologies on society.
A graduate of the University of Missouri (B.S.,1964)
and Eastern Michigan (M.S., 1974), Anne Duderstadt
has been actively involved in the life of the University,
serving as president of the Faculty Women’s Club,
institutional advancement officer, and as First Lady of
the University. She led the effort to restore and preserve
important University historical landmarks including
the President’s House, the Inglis Highlands estate,
and the Detroit Observatory. More recently she has
authored and designed numerous books to document
the remarkable history of the University. In addition
she has led the effort to develop novel research tools to
explore the history of the University through an array
of interactive websites.

The Millennium Project
The University of Michigan
Ann Arbor, Michigan

Copyright © by the University of Michigan 2014
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States of America by
The Millennium Project of the University of Michigan
Manufactured in the United States of America
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored
in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise,
without the written permission of the publisher.

To our family, friends, and colleagues

i

Preface
In December of 1968, the Duderstadts moved from
Southern California to Ann Arbor, Michigan. It was a
hot, sunny day in Pasadena–a Santa Ana condition, in
fact–when we loaded our furniture and our VW on a
moving van. We packed up our kids, who had never
even seen snow, much less Michigan, and flew to Detroit,
arriving in subzero cold and heavy snow. Despite the
climatic shock, we found ourselves very much at home,
both in Ann Arbor and at the University of Michigan. So
much so, that we have resisted occasional temptations
to move west again to remain in Ann Arbor. We have
long considered ourselves Michiganders, maize and
blue to the core.
For almost five decades, we have enjoyed being
members of the Michigan family, serving in a variety
of roles and seeing the University and its surrounding
community from an array of perspectives. From the
academic perspective, my rise through the ranks as a
faculty member in Engineering was rather traditional. I
became involved in broader campus issues as a campus
politician actively engaged in faculty governance. I
finally descended through the various levels of Dante’s
inferno of academic administration: dean, provost,
and finally president of the University, only to be
reincarnated once again as a faculty member–albeit
mostly unseen and unheard on the Michigan campus
as a has-been president.
Anne, the other member of the Duderstadt team, rose
even more rapidly to leadership roles in the University
community: first as chair of the Faculty Women’s Club
Newcomers group, then later as president of the entire
Faculty Women’s Club organization; as a member of
other campus and community groups; as “deanette”,
“provostess”, and “first lady” of the University, and as
institutional advancement officer, managing hundreds
of events, several major facilities, and hosting thousands
of faculty, students, alumni, and guests of the University.

Anne also found “life-after” productive, by continuing
her strong efforts to document the remarkable history
of the University of Michigan through a series of books
and websites.
We both enjoyed the experience of raising a family
in Ann Arbor and within the University community.
Although born as California girls in Pasadena, our
daughters grew up in Ann Arbor. They were infected
with the Ann Arbor syndrome of over-involvement
in activities ranging from music and theater to swim
clubs and gymnastics teams to high school athletics and
college admissions pressures. We even finally managed
to become Michigan parents, as both the Duderstadt
daughters eventually returned to the University for
advanced degrees after their undergraduate studies in
the East.
Hence, we began our years in Ann Arbor in
University Family Housing and returned again to
University housing some twenty years later, this time to
reside in the President’s House. Unlike most university
presidents, we decided after our presidential role that
we would remain at Michigan, returning to the faculty
and the community. We would continue to serve as best
we could–if only as ghosts of the University past.
This latter decision was unusual in higher education.
Most university presidents are itinerant–they move
from university to university, as they progress through
the academic and administrative ranks, and usually
leave the institution when they step down as president.
The two of us were unusual not only in spending
our entire careers at a single university, but in being
determined to remain at our university following our
service in the presidency–although some of our friends
have referred to this determination as evidence of
being “mobility-impaired”. In a sense, we regarded
the Michigan presidency as yet another University
assignment–clearly both important and consequential–

ii
but drawing us temporarily away from our longstanding role as members of the Michigan faculty and
Ann Arbor community. We were determined to return
to these earlier roles, although there have been times
when this has not been easy.
In part for the record, in part for our family, and in
part just for our personal catharsis, we have sought
to chronicle our journey into the depths of academic
administration and our escape back again to the joy
of faculty life for over almost 50 years of service to
the University of Michigan. Although many of our
experiences were characterized by the expected degree
of seriousness and solemnity, we have chosen to describe
them in a more humorous tone. We certainly hope that
the reader will excuse this spirit of humor, amusement,
and occasional wonder. We certainly do not intend any
disrespect, either for the University we have served for
so long or the hundreds–indeed thousands–of people

who have made similar commitments to Michigan.
Rather, we prefer to view our experiences, both good
and bad, both successes and failures, through the rosecolored glasses of humor and good intentions. Besides,
this perspective seems to help in making sense out
of the complex array of experiences and happenings
characterizing a modern university presidency.
The two of us view our years at Michigan as very
much a team experience. Indeed, we, like most other
families thrust into these complex roles, find it difficult
to imagine how the myriad roles and responsibilities
characterizing university leadership could be addressed
by a single individual. To be sure, each of our roles
was different, yet both were comparable in challenge,
responsibility, and importance.

		

		

Michigan’s First Family - 1988-1996
Susan, Jim, Anne, and Kathy Duderstadt

Ann Arbor, Michigan
Fall, 2014

iii

Acknowledgments
The arcane skills required to serve and lead a major
university are best learned from other accomplished
academic leaders. In this regard, Anne and I must
acknowledge the extraordinary impact that earlier
Michigan presidents and first ladies have had on
our own careers: Anne and Harlan Hatcher, Sally
and Robben Fleming, Allen and Alene Smith, and
Vivian and Harold Shapiro, who served as mentors,
friends, and confidants. Beyond this, other Michigan
leaders, several of whom went on to major university
presidencies themselves, have been important role
models, including Rosa and Frank Rhodes, Elisa and
Billy Frye, and Becky and Chuck Vest. So, too, our
friends and colleagues serving on the Michigan faculty
and as deans and executive officers have similarly had
great influence on our role as an academic leader.
Beyond the privilege of serving a great university,
perhaps the most rewarding and satisfying aspect of
our half century at Michigan was the ability to join
with many remarkably talented and dedicated people
in the task of keeping the University among “the
leaders and best.” The size, complexity, and aspirations
for excellence of the university both require and
attract great leadership at all levels, among its faculty,
students, staff, administrators, regents, and alumni.
Whatever success was achieved during our years at
the university was due to a very considerable extent to
the effort, talent, wisdom, and courage of the Michigan
leadership team, defined in the broadest sense.
In particular, during the decade spanned by our
presidency, the University of Michigan was fortunate to
have a truly remarkable team of executive officers, many
of whom continued on to other significant leadership
roles in higher education, all of whom had extensive
experience with higher education, and all of whom are
owed a deep debt of gratitude. This team consisted of
the following people in the following positions:

Provost: Chuck Vest, Gil Whitaker, Bernie Machen
Executive Vice President and Chief Financial Offcer:
Farris Womack
Vice President for Research: Linda Wilson, Bill Kelly,
Homer Neal
Graduate Dean: John D’Arms, Bob Weisbuch
Vice President for Student Affairs: Henry Johnson,
Mary Ann Swain, Maureen Hartford
Vice President for University Affairs: Walt Harrison
Vice President for Development: Jon Cosovich, Joe
Roberson, Tom Kinnear
Secretary: Dick Kennedy, Harold Johnson, Roberta
Palmer
Associate Vice President: Doug Van Houweling,
George Zuidema, Charles Moody, Lester Monts,
Rhetaugh Dumas, Harold Jacobson, John
Jackson, Robert Holbrook
Chancellor: Blenda Wilson, Clint Jones, Jim Renick,
Charlie Nelms
Athletic Director: Glenn (Bo) Schembechler, Jack
Weidenbach, Joe Roberson
Assistant: Robin Jacoby, Shirley Clarkson, Connie
Cook, Ejner Jensen, Susan Lipschutz
While this team of senior executives was key to the
progress made during our administration, so too was
the direct support we received from an extraordinary
team of University staff:
Provost Role
	
Pat DuCharme, Executive Secretary
	
Carole LaMantia, Office Manager
	
Robin Jacoby, Senior Advisor
President Role
	
Nona Mustard, Executive Secretary
	
Barbara Johnson, Secretary to AMD
	
Joette Goudie, Secretary
	
Trina Hardy, Receptionist
	
Susan Lipschutz, Senior Advisor

iv
	
Shirley Clarkson, Senior Advisor
	
Connie Cook, Senior Advisor
	
Ejner Jensen, Senior Advisor
	
Lisa Baker, Press Secretary
	
Events Coordinator, Judy Dinesen
	
Erik Garr, Student Assistant
	
Pam Clapp, Student Assistant
President’s House and Inglis House
	
Inge Roncoli
	
Kurt Szalay
	
Charles Jenkins
	
Joan Kobrinski
	
Rose Abercrombe
Millennium Project
	
Mary Miles, Executive Secretary
	
Christine Grant, Executive Secretary
	
Carole LaMantia, Office Manager
	
Liene Karels, Publications Manger
	
Dan Fessahazion, IT Supervisor

v
	

Table of Contents
Preface and Contents
Chapter 1. Introduction	 1
	
So What Is a University President? 2
Chapter 2. The Early Years 5
	
Carrollton, U Missouri, and Yale 5
	
Los Alamos 8
	
Caltech 10
Chapter 3. The Duderstadts at Michigan 13
	
First Signs of Community Life 14
	
Early Faculty Life 16
	
Early Leadership: First Anne 18
	
Captured by the Administrative Vortex 20
	
Provosting 24
	
Acting President 27
	
The Duderstadt Family 28
Chapter 4. The Presidential Search 35
	
Welcome Back Home! 35
	
Leading Behind the Scenes 36
	
The Presidential Search 37
	
Meanwhile, Back at Provost 37
	
Fleming Returns 38
	
Crunch-Time 39
Chapter 5. The First Year 51
	
Preparing for Transition 51
	
The Early Agenda 53
	
A Philosophy of Leadership 55
	
An Active Fall 58
	
Some Winter Surprises 60
	
Springtime and Commencement 61

vi
Chapter 6. Living in the White House 68
	
First Impressions 69
	
Renovation 70
	
Working in the White House 71
	
Knock, Knock!...Who’s There? 78
	
The Plant Department 81
	
Anne, Jim, and the Three Bears 83
Chapter 7. A Matter of Style 86
	
Leadership Style 86
	
Advancing the Institution 88
	
Inglis Highlands Estate 91
Chapter 8. A Turn about the University Calendar 99
	
Fall: A Time of Beginning 99
	
The Holiday Season 103
	
Winter: Good, Gray Michigan 104
	
Spring 106
	
Summer 106
	
On the Road 109
	
Escape 111
	
Always Some Doubts 113
	
Appendix: UM v. Notre Dame Apple Pie 114
Chapter 9. Hail to the Victors 116
	
Early Years 118
	
Mainstreaming 118
	
Athletic Director Musical Chairs 120
	
Football Weekends 124
	
Rose Bowls 126
	
Final Fours 128
	
Players and Coaches 130
	
Signs of Strain 131
Chapter 10. Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous? 134
	
The President’s House 134
	
VIPS at the House 137
	
Presidential Commencements 140
	
Dining with the Queen 142
Chapter 11. If This Is Tuesday, We Must Be...Where? 147
	
All in the Family 147
	
World Travel 153
Chapter 12. The Michigan Families 166
	
Students 166

vii
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	

Faculty 167
The Deans 171
Executive Leadership 174
The Regents 176
The Staff 176
The Old Guard 180
Alumni 181
A Heritage of Leadership 181
The Duderstadt Family 183

Chapter 13. Rebuilding the University 190
	
Bricks and Mortar 191
	
Rebuilding the Campuses 193
Chapter 14: The End Game 206
	
The Two-Minute Warning 207
	
Fate Strikes Again 210
	
Taking Stock 211
	
The Lame-Duck Year 215
Chapter 15: Fading Away into Obscurity 217
	
A Professional Chairman 217
	
Pushed into Exile 219
	
The Millennium Project 223
	
The Media Union 226
Chapter 16: Life after Leadership 241
	
Different Eras, Different Roles 241
	
National and Global Affairs 242
Chapter 17: Understanding the Past to Chart the Future 259
	
History and Tradition 259
	
A Partner in Exile 263
	
Mort’s Map and Campus History 263
	
Using New Technologies to Document the Past 269
	
The Parable of the Little Red Hen 273
Chapter 18: Tradition, Service, and Saga 275
	
Tradition 275
	
Service 276
	
Institutional Saga 276
Appendix A: Further References 278

viii

1

Chapter 1

Introduction

The Inauguration Processional - 1988
Inauguration Day, October 4, 1988, dawned as one
of those extraordinary Michigan fall days. The sky was
a brilliant blue. The yellows and reds of the fall colors
provided the perfect backdrop for the colorful robes of
the academic procession marching across the Ingalls
Mall toward Hill Auditorium. The Baird Carillon in
Burton Tower rang out with the familiar academic
themes.
But instead of academic pomp and circumstance, we
could swear we heard the refrain of Berlioz’s “March
to the Scaffold” as the academic procession marched
through the Central Campus to my inauguration that
fall morning. Perhaps it was an enhanced awareness

of just how challenging the Michigan presidency had
become, blending the challenges of leading one of the
most complex institutions in modern society while
surrounded by a bewildering array of complex political
issues. Perhaps it was the lingering stress of the long
process that led to my selection as president, all the
while trying to keep the University on track in our dual
roles as provost and “provostess”. Or perhaps it was
just a sensory overload, because of all of the activities
of inauguration week.
Earlier in the week, Michigan’s graduate school
had celebrated its 50th year with a symposium on
the University’s impact on graduate and professional

2

The “installation” of the new Michigan president

The new “First Family” looks on with amusement...

education. A day later, I had given my first “State of
the University” address at the annual faculty awards
ceremony. Both my and Anne’s families had arrived for
the ceremonies and were spread out in hotels all over Ann
Arbor. The day after the inauguration, Michigan would
face its traditional rival, Michigan State University, in a
football battle that would lead eventually to a Big Ten
Championship for the Wolverines and a victory over
USC in the Rose Bowl. And, in a most fitting display
of irreverence—fitting, at least, for Michigan—a small
group of activists staged a protest at the inauguration
ceremony on an array of issues that have long since
faded into the obscurity of their 1960s antecedents.
One student in the platform group even joined in
the festivities by displaying a large sign stating,
“Duderstadt is illegal!” This referred to the fact that the
Regents had refused to open the presidential selection
process to the prying eyes of the media, triggering suits
under the state’s Open Meetings Act. (I responded to
the sign by noting that since my parents were in the
audience, I would ask them afterwards if I was truly
legitimate.)

Of course there are many other roles: In a sense, the
president and “first spouse” are the first family of the
university community, in many ways serving as the
mayor of a small city of thousands of students, faculty,
and staff. This public leadership role is particularly
important when the university is very large. The
University of Michigan has over 43,000 students, 7,000
faculty members, and 35,000 staff on its campus in Ann
Arbor, a rather small city with a population of about
116,000—except on football weekends, when it doubles
in size. As the university’s most visible leader, the
president must continually grapple with the diverse
array of political and social issues and interests of
concern to the many stakeholders of higher education—
students and parents, state and federal government,
business and labor, the press and the public-at-large,
and, of course, most significantly, the faculty.
The president of a large university also has a
significant role as its chief executive officer, responsible
for the management of a diverse collection of
activities, ranging from education to health care to
public entertainment (e.g., intercollegiate athletics).
The University of Michigan has an annual operating
budget of $7 billion; more than 35 million square
feet of physical facilities; almost $16 billion of funds
under active management; and people, programs, and
facilities scattered about the globe. If the university was
a business—and, of course, a president would never
suggest this, at least within earshot of the faculty—
Michigan would rank roughly 370th on the Fortune 500
list as an unusually complex global conglomerate.

So What Is a University President?
There is a well-worn definition of the modern
university president as someone who lives in a large
house and begs for a living. And, to be sure, many
presidents do live in large, stately houses on their
campuses, and all presidents are expected to be actively
involved in fundraising.

3

The University of Michigan’s Ann Arbor campus
However, unlike the corporate CEO, who is
responsible primarily for shareholder value, the
university president-as-CEO is accountable for
everything that happens in the university—at least,
everything bad. The old expression “The buck stops
here!” is chiseled in the cornerstone of the university
administration building. Anything that happens,
whether it involves the president—or, indeed, whether
it is even known by the president—from student
misbehavior to financial misdeeds to town-gown
relations—eventually ends up on the president’s
desk. Presidents even find themselves blamed for the
misfortunes of athletics teams, as I learned in 1995
after the famous last second, 70-yard touchdown pass
thrown by a Colorado quarterback that beat Michigan
in the football “play of the decade”.
Universities are very complex social organizations
with a variety of different intellectual neighborhoods,
each characterized by unique cultures and needs.
Hence, perhaps it is not surprising that academic
leadership positions, usually beginning at the level of
deans and continuing through executive officers and
the president, frequently become two-person roles in
which the spouse plays an important role in building

and sustaining relationships with each of these
communities, including students, faculty, staff, alumni,
and, of course, donors.
This is particularly the case for the university
presidency. Although unwritten in the university
contract for a president, there has long been an
expectation that the president’s spouse will be a full
participant in presidential activities. Much like the
presidency of the United States or the governorship of
a state, a university presidency is really a two-person
job, although generally only one partner gets paid
and recognized in an employment sense. At many
universities, such as Michigan, the “First Lady” of the
university is expected to play an important role not
only as the symbolic host of presidential events—and
perhaps also as the symbolic mom of the student body—
but in actually planning and managing a complex array
of events, facilities, and staff. These responsibilities
include hosting dignitaries visiting the campus;
organizing almost daily events for faculty, students,
and staff; and managing entertainment facilities, such
as the President’s House or the hospitality areas of the
football stadium.
Furthermore, unlike most corporate CEOs, the

4
president and spouse are expected to play an active
role generating the resources needed by the university,
whether by lobbying state and federal governments,
seeking gifts and bequests from alumni and friends,
or clever entrepreneurial efforts. There is an implicit
expectation on most campuses that the president’s job
is to raise money for the provost and deans to spend,
while the chief financial officer and administrative staff
watch over their shoulders to make certain they all do
it wisely. So, too, the spouse is expected not only to host
but to cultivate key donors, perhaps turning to them
at dinner with the discrete inquiry, “Have you thought
lately about where the University would fit into your
estate planning?...”
The president is also expected to be the “defender of
the faith”, both of the institution itself and the academic
values so important to a University. I sometimes thought
of this latter role as roughly akin to that of a tired, old
sheriff in a frontier western town. Every day I would
have to drag my bruised, wounded carcass out of bed,
strap on my guns, and go out into the main street to
face whatever gunslingers who had ridden in to shoot
up the town that day. Sometimes these were politicians;
sometimes the media; at still other times special interest
groups on campus; even occasionally other University
leaders such as deans or even Regents. And each time
I went into battle to defend the University, I did so
knowing that one day I would run into someone faster
on the draw than I was. In retrospect, it was amazing
that I managed to perform this particular duty of the
presidency for almost a decade with only a few scars
to show.
The final role of the presidential family is a pastoral
one. In a very real sense, both Anne and I were to
become the “mom and pop” of the extended university
family. Students looked to us for parental support, even
as they emphasized their rejection of in loco parentis
(actually, by digging holes in the front yard of the
President’s House to “bury student rights” during a
particularly imaginative demonstration). Faculty and
staff also sought nurturing and understanding care
during difficult times for the university. To both those
inside and outside, the President and First Lady were
expected to be cheerleaders for the university, always
upbeat and optimistic, even though we frequently
shared the concerns and were subject to the same

Our “home”...at least for 8 years...
stresses as the rest of the campus community.
In view of these multiple roles, all important, yet
together far more than any couple could possibly
fulfill, it was not surprising that we approached
the inauguration with considerable apprehension–
regarding it as less a celebration than as an execution.
Indeed, the very term used to describe inaugurations,
the “installation” of a new president, suggested bolting
us into the leadership chair of the University for the
ordeal ahead.

5

Chapter 2

The Early Years
Although we had spent almost twenty years at
Michigan prior to moving into the white house at 815
South University, our route prior to arriving in Ann
Arbor crisscrossed the nation. The path to Ann Arbor led
from a small farm town in Missouri to Yale University
in the East, then back to a top-secret nuclear research
laboratory in the mountains of New Mexico, then on to
Pasadena, and finally back across the country again to
Michigan.

Carrollton, University of Missouri, and Yale
Both of us had grown up in Carrollton, a small farm
town (population 5,000) in central Missouri about 70
miles northeast of Kansas City. Carrollton was located
on the Missouri River, in the heart of some of the richest
farmland in the world. Most of its residents were
involved in farming in one way or another. Anne (then
Anne Marie Lock) was raised on a farm. Although my
father was a highway paving contractor, my grandfather
owned working farmland.
Anne’s ancestors were Swiss and German farming
families who immigrated in the mid-19th century to the
United States to settle along the Missouri River in towns
with names such as Hermann and Frankenstein. In
contrast, my ancestors were the usual mix of European
nationalities, English (Johnson and Bramhall from the
Mayflower days), Scotch-Irish (McCleary from the
19th century), and a dash of German immigrants in the
early 20th century. The name Duderstadt comes from
an ancient 1,100 year old walled village just east of the
university city Goettingen in central Germany. When
translated, Du-der-stadt becomes “you, the city”, with
one medieval legend suggesting the name arose from
the argument between two brothers about who should

The famous Twisted Tower of Duderstadt, Germany
name the city, finally resulting in letting it name itself!
Although both of us were the same age, I attended
the public elementary school and Anne attended the
Catholic school. We didn’t meet one another until we
entered Carrollton High School. Even then, although
Anne was a cheerleader, and I played football,
basketball, and baseball, we never knew each other
well until we both left for college.
Actually, we didn’t begin to date until the first
summer after leaving for college. We had both returned
to work in Carrollton during the summer, Anne in
the local flower shop while I worked on a highway
construction crew for my father’s company. Summer
social life in Carrollton, as in many small Midwestern
towns, revolved around the local Dairy Queen (…quite
literally, since just as in the movie, American Graffiti,
young people would drive around and around the
Dairy Queen looking for something to do). It was there
that we first noticed one another, then began to date,
and eventually continued the relationship at a distance

6

The courthouse and town square of Carrollton

Carrollton, Missouri–above and under water

Jim’s first house

Anne’s first house

7

The University of Missouri

Yale University

through frequent letter writing while separated at
college.
Anne attended the University of Missouri in
Columbia, working her way through college and
receiving a B.S. in Home Economics in 1964. In her
last year she served as a residence hall advisor for
undergraduate students. During her college years,
Missouri was a nationally ranked football power, with
coach Dan Devine at the helm. Some years later, after
we had married and moved to Ann Arbor, Anne’s
Missouri roots became apparent. In 1969, Devine led a
powerful Missouri team into Ann Arbor that proceeded
to soundly thrash a Michigan team led by a new young
coach named Glenn “Bo” Schembechler. As Missouri
scored its last touchdown in what was to be the worst
beating a Schembechler-coached Michigan team was
ever to experience, Anne stood up and cheered. Not
a good thing, since we were seated at the time among
many of the Michigan faithful, including some of the
senior faculty in my new department. (It might be
noted that one of Anne’s classmates at Missouri in the
1960s was none other than Lloyd Carr!)
For college, I headed east to Yale, oddly enough
because of the opportunity to play college football.
Actually, when I graduated from Carrollton High
School, few in our town had ever considered going out
of state to college–in fact, I was the first ever to take
the SATs. Largely at the encouragement of my family, I
decided to apply to several of the more popular national
universities, with a particular interest in Stanford
(rather, California). However, since I suspected the

odds of acceptance were long, I also applied to several
other schools, including Northwestern and Michigan.
When I learned that blue-blood schools like Yale and
Harvard were located in New England rather than
England (where I thought they belonged with Oxford
and Cambridge), I also decided on a whim to apply to
Yale, knowing absolutely nothing whatsoever about
it. Surprise, surprise, when not only did I get an early
acceptance to Yale (and Stanford, as it turned out), but
I also received a telegram (the first I had ever seen)
from the Yale football coach encouraging me to attend
Yale and play football. The thought of playing football
at an exotic institution like Yale was just too enticing,
although one of Dan Devine’s coaches also called later
in an effort to recruit me to Missouri.
So, sight-unseen, I was put on a plane the next
September–my first airplane trip–flew to New York

A telegram from the Yale football coach!!!

8

Ready for Jim’s first class!

Anne and Jim Duderstadt

(again a first), and managed to find my way to Grand
Central Station to take the train up to New Haven to
enroll at Yale–and to start freshman football practice.
The old saying, “You can take the boy out of the
country but not the country out of the boy!” strongly
applied in my case. Despite the prep school, blue-blood
nature of Yale at that time, it had relatively little impact
on my social sophistication, although it certainly shook
my academic confidence to the ground. After a shaky
start, I managed to adjust to both the intellectual and
social rigors of Old Blue–although football lasted only
two years. In 1964, I graduated summa cum laude in
electrical engineering and accepted an Atomic Energy
Commission fellowship to attend graduate school at
Caltech (turning down Stanford for the second time).
An academic note aside here: A Yale “engineering”
degree is a bit of an oxymoron. In fact, all undergraduates
at Yale were required to take not only a broad liberal
arts curriculum, but they were also required to select a
minor area of concentration in addition to their major.
Since the minor and major concentrations had to be in
different areas, I selected psychology as my minor area,
with a specialization in child psychology. Many years
later I realized just how critical this choice of a minor
concentration was in my later assignments in academic
administration–not so much for understanding
students, but rather for understanding the faculty
(stimulus, response, reward, reinforcement…).
During the summers, while Anne and I were

working in Carrollton, we began to date more regularly.
After I was accepted for graduate studies at Caltech,
we decided that a distance romance back and forth
from Missouri to Connecticut would become even
more problematic in California, so we became engaged
during our senior year and were married shortly after
our college graduations in June of 1964. After a short
three-day honeymoon, we loaded up my VW and
headed for New Mexico, where I had a summer job
working as a physicist at the Los Alamos Scientific
Laboratory.

Los Alamos
In the mid-1960s, atomic energy was still shrouded
in secret security classification. In fact, I was required to
qualify for an A.E.C. top-secret “Q” security clearance
even to receive an Atomic Energy Commission
Fellowship. Needless to say, security was an even
higher priority at Los Alamos, where the town adjacent
to the Laboratory housing the families of lab employees
had only been opened to the public the year before.
Families of visiting scientists like us lived in WW II
vintage barracks dating from the days of the Manhattan
Project. The only commercial establishments in the
entire town were a Safeway store, a Basken-Robbins
ice cream shop, and the ABC Liquor Store. Not much
for culture, although since it was the summer of the
Goldwater-Johnson presidential campaigns, politics

9

Leaving for Los Alamos

Valle Grande above Los Alamos

Our first home: the Los Alamos barracks

Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory

The Phoebus 2A Nuclear Rocket

The Test Firing Control Room

Off to Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory

10
provided some entertainment. However, Los Alamos
was located high in the mountains of New Mexico in
the alpine setting of a national forest, so outdoor life
provided some diversions.
Even though we spent only a summer at Los
Alamos, it did have some important later consequences.
I worked in a technical group supporting the Rover
nuclear rocket program. The Rover Project was intended
to develop and test rocket engines powered by nuclear
fission reactors that would be required for a manned
mission to Mars. During the mid-1960s, it was felt that
the Mars mission would likely follow rapidly after the
successful completion of the Apollo program to land a
man on Mars–perhaps as early as 1980. Los Alamos was
successful in designing, building, and static-testing a
sequence of nuclear rocket engines at their Nevada test
site–the Kiwi engine rated at 1,000 megawatts and the
Phoebus engine rated at 5,000 megawatts (five times the
power of a nuclear power plant). I worked on the test
programs for these engines, and through this gained a
strong interest both in nuclear power and spaceflight.
Since the nuclear rocket project was classified
as secret, I was required to record all of my work in
bound notebooks, which were then locked in a safe
each evening when I left the Laboratory. This habit
of recording my work–and my thoughts–in bound
notebooks became a habit that I continued throughout
my research as a faculty member and then later as
an academic administrator. Today, the shelves in our
home are filled with these notebooks, continuing to
accumulate at a rate of several each year.
There was another consequence of the Los Alamos
work. During the 1960s, as the United States became
more heavily drawn into the Vietnam War, the
conditions for deferment from the draft became more
and more restrictive. First I was deferred as a student;
then this was replaced by a deferment due to martial
status; then parental status with the arrival of our two
daughters. Finally, in the late 1960s, even parental
deferments disappeared. However, because I had
held a top-secret clearance and had access to classified
nuclear technology at Los Alamos, I eventually
received a deferment because of critical skills. In fact,
after another summer research assignment at the AEC’s
other nuclear weapons laboratory at Livermore, even
my international travel became tightly restricted–one

of the many reasons we avoided overseas travel until
the 1980s.

Caltech
After our summer experience at Los Alamos, we
returned to Missouri to pile the rest of our belongings
in our VW, and then off we went again across the
country to Pasadena where I had an AEC fellowship
to study at Caltech. Like many Americans, our image
of Pasadena and Caltech had been formed by the
television broadcasts of the Tournament of Roses
Parade and the Rose Bowl, when the skies were blue
and the San Gabriel Mountains ringed the city. It was
quite a contrast when we arrived in late August in the
midst of a smog alert that continued for weeks, blotting
out the mountains and trapping the heat.
I entered my PhD program in engineering science
and physics at Caltech, and Anne accepted a position
as a manager at the J.W. Robinson’s department store
in Pasadena. We rented a small apartment in northwest
Pasadena, only to find later that this was in the
neighborhood where Pasadena’s version of the Watts
riots occurred in 1964. We moved after a year to an
apartment complex close to the Caltech campus, where
we would have our two daughters. (Ironically, our new
apartment was located one block from S. Michigan Ave.
in Pasadena and only ten blocks from a small party
store named Trader Joes...the birthplace of today’s
national phenomenon.)
Although Pasadena was an important chapter in
the Duderstadt history–Anne’s job, my M.S. and Ph.D.
degrees, the birth of the two Duderstadt daughters,
Susan and Kathy, and my AEC Postdoc–it was a
remarkably short period of only four years. Part of the
reason was the Vietnam war; the threat of the draft
always lurking in the background provided strong
motivation both for graduate students and faculty to
complete their degrees as rapidly as possible. But it was
also a time of ample job opportunities, with the space
and defense programs in high gear and universities
ramping up their research in science and engineering.
Of course, it was a rather threadbare existence,
particularly after the arrival of our daughters that
required Anne to step down from her job. After paying
the rent, my generous AEC fellowship left us with $25

11

Our new places of work: Caltech and Robinson’s

Susan and Kathy arrive

Graduation and our last home at Caltech

12
per week! Yet, with prudent cost management, e.g.,
shopping at the Fedco department store for federal
employees, we managed to survive. Most of the
graduate students faced similar financial challenges,
spreading out over Pasadena in the cheapest apartments
they could find, so there was little interaction between
graduate students and faculty at Caltech.
Taking advantage of the highly interdisciplinary
character of Caltech by earning my degrees in subjects
spanning a range of topics in physics and mathematics,
I managed to complete my M.S. and Ph.D. in three
years. My dissertation advisor suggested that I might
want to spend an additional year as a postdoctoral
fellow, broadening my research interests–and taking
the next step toward a faculty position at Caltech. To
this end, I applied for and won an AEC Postdoctoral
Fellowship for the year 1968, with a generous stipend
of $1,000 per month, roughly three times that of my
graduate student stipend. Fortunately, the medical
burdens for our two daughters were covered by a Ford
Foundation loan that would be forgiven if I taught at
the university level for a few years. We felt so flush that
we rented a small house right across the street from
Caltech with wonderful gardens (including two large
avocado trees that would periodically rain fruit on the
roof of the house).

Although I was interested in completing my
postdoctoral appointment before considering more
permanent employment, I did agree to two job
interviews at the request of my Caltech dissertation
advisors: UC-Berkeley and Michigan. The Berkeley
interview was hosted by the chair of their Department
of Nuclear Engineering, Hans Mark, who was later to
become Secretary of the Air Force and then President of
the University of Texas.
The Michigan interview was more problematic.
To be sure, Michigan’s Department of Nuclear
Engineering was not only the first such program
established in this country, but also it ranked among
the top such programs in the world. Despite this, I was
not particularly enthusiastic about visiting Michigan to
explore the opportunity. I agreed to do so as a favor to
one of my thesis advisors, who told me that Ann Arbor
was “nirvana,” although not on the cold, gray, drizzling
day in March when I visited. While I was flying back to
California after the interview, the department chairman,
Bill Kerr, called Anne and told her they were going to
make me an offer. Anne responded without hesitation.
She had had enough of Southern California. When
I arrived back in Pasadena, I was informed that the
Duderstadts were headed to Michigan. (I had learned
that on such weighty matters, Anne was usually
correct.)

Susan suggests it is time to head east to Michigan!!!

13

Chapter 3

The Duderstadts at Michigan

The Duderstadts leaving California behind...
Although Anne had accepted Michigan’s offer in
spring, 1968, I still felt obligated to finish the year at
Caltech as an A.E.C. Postdoctoral Fellow, since this had
been an honorific award. In November I was able to
stop by Michigan on my way to Washington to receive
the Mark Mills Prize for the outstanding dissertation
in nuclear science (presented to me by Glenn Seaborg).
While in Ann Arbor I learned that the University was
just completing some new housing units for married
students where new faculty families were occasionally
permitted to rent some of these townhouse apartments
until they found more permanent residences. Actually,
this solved one of our first challenges, since the
University’s offer of the princely sum of $12,000 was
unlikely to permit us to acquire a house, particularly
after four years of poverty at Caltech. This seemed like

the simplest solution to the housing question, and so, in
a sub-zero blizzard in December 1968, the Duderstadts
moved into the Northwood IV housing complex on the
University of Michigan’s North Campus.
Since we had packed up the moving van in Pasadena
in the midst of a Santa Ana heat wave (loading our
VW in the van), our first exposure to Michigan winter
was quite abrupt. Although the Northwood housing
units were new, they were quite austere without
landscaping. Although I was only a short walk from my
department’s laboratories on the North Campus, we
felt quite isolated in this new cold climate and began to
wonder just how long we could last.
Actually, we were not alone. There were other faculty
families in the Northwood complex, all facing the same
financial challenges and adjusting to the shock of a

14

Arriving in a Michigan winter in Northwood IV, UM married student housing

But, spring finally arrives!
new climate and a very complex institution. Although
the winter weather kept us isolated, as soon as the
spring thaw appeared, the hordes of children began to
appear, sweeping through the housing complex each
day, leaving the adults with the challenges of searching
each evening for their children’s toys and tricycles. Yet,
ironically, the living challenges of Northwood provided
a certain bond among the faculty families, and to this
day we continue to have strong friendships with several
families who not only survived the experience but have
remained at Michigan as long as we have.

The First Signs of Community Life
Fortunately, within a few weeks after our arrival,
Anne encountered the first signs of the strong social

network that had developed within the University
through the women of the faculty. She was contacted
by the leaders of the Newcomers Section of the Faculty
Women’s Club and invited both to join and to meet
other new arrivals at a series of social get-togethers
for the several hundred women joining the University
faculty community each year.
Here it is important to stress just how important this
community organization was to new faculty families.
As noted earlier, the University is a very diverse and
complex organization, broken up into smaller social
groups usually aligned with academic departments
or work areas. One can image the differences among
academic units such as Law, Medicine, Engineering,
and LS&A, or among the diverse departments and
programs in each of these units. While most of these

15

Faculty Women’s Club Newcomers

Anne with Sally Fleming

organizations made some effort to welcome and
orient their new faculty members, their families were
generally ignored.
In contrast, the Faculty Women’s Club spanned
the entire university, hosting an unusually broad set
of activities and interest groups both for faculty wives
and more broadly their families. In fact, since being
launched by President Marion Burton’s wife, Nina
Burton, in the 1920s, it had become the primary social
organization for pulling together faculty members and
their families across the University. While many of the
women in the Faculty Women’s Club would remain
active throughout their lives (including many of the
wives of senior university leaders such as presidents
and deans), the FWC Newcomers group played a
particularly important role both in welcoming new
arrivals to the University and providing them with
opportunities to become engaged in its broad range of
activities, both as members and as families.
Anne immediately joined the group and soon
found herself not only with a host of new friends from
other arriving faculty families, but also developing
relationships with many of the women leaders of
the University, including Sally Fleming and Alene
Smith (both president’s wives) and the spouses of
leading faculty members such as Phyllis Wright,
Sue Yohe, Betty Richart, and Florence Crane. Her
participation in various Newcomers interest groups
such as International Cooking, Parenting and Child
Care, and Book Reviews gave both of us an immediate
opportunity to meet other faculty families and make
new friends across the entire breadth of the University.

In fact, I was almost overwhelmed when at one of
Anne’s events I found myself seated directly across
from President Robben Fleming!!! Needless to say, for a
brand-new assistant professor, this was a bit terrifying,
until I learned just how warm and gracious the Flemings
were. (As I will describe later, Robben Fleming was
to become my primary tutor in learning the art of the
university presidency during the brief several-month
period when he became Interim President, just before I
was elected as the successor to Harold Shapiro.)
Of course, there were other opportunities for
faculty members to come together, such as family
events (school programs, summer activities), cultural
events (performing arts), or “cosmic athletic events”
(UM football and basketball), which usually appealed
to particular interests or periods in family life (e.g.,
school-age children). Unfortunately, over the years,
many of these important community experiences of the
University have disappeared (e.g., the May Festival of
the University Musical Society or the degree to which
the commercialization of Michigan athletics has largely
priced athletic events beyond the capacity of faculty and
staff families). Yet the Faculty Women’s Club continues
to play a truly unique and essential role in the life of
the University. Both Anne’s early strong engagement
and leadership in Faculty Women’s Club activities and
her unusually strong support of the organization in
her various leadership roles over the years at Michigan
have played an unusually important role in preserving
the community spirit of the University.

16

From the theoretical analysis of nuclear systems...

Early Faculty Life
My own early faculty experience was somewhat
different, in part because I was as young as most of the
graduate students in my department (e.g., mid-20s).
While I rapidly developed professional relationships
with the faculty, my closest colleagues were actually
graduate students. Because I was recruited to fill the
position of a senior faculty member who left behind
several Ph.D. students, I immediately picked up these
abandoned souls, although the relationship among us
was less one of “master and student” and more one
of “brothers-in-arms”. Much of my social life within
the department was with graduate students, joining
them in basketball games, late-night poker matches, or
just having an occasional beer together (usually at the
parties that dissertation chairs would hold for graduate
students who had completed their Ph.D. degree).
This was also important because my department
in the 1970s was small, research-intensive, highly
interdisciplinary, and almost totally focused on graduate
education, offering M.S. and Ph.D. degrees in nuclear
science and nuclear engineering. Hence it was almost
ideally suited to the generalized approach of a Caltech
education. Its reputation allowed it to attract both
outstanding faculty and graduate students of unusual
breadth and ability. Hence, it was well-suited to my
roving interests, which evolved quite rapidly across the
fields of physics, mathematics, and engineering. In fact,
the breadth I had acquired at Caltech enabled me to

encourage each of my graduate students to select their
own topic of interest rather than working on particular
problems I proposed, thereby attracting some of the
most able students in the department.
One of the great challenges faced by most young
faculty members is the practice of most academic units
in providing only 9-month faculty appointments. In
some units, there were summer programs that provided
teaching opportunities. However in engineering, faculty
members were expected to obtain research grants that
would provide both support for their summer salaries
(as well as 20% of their academic year appointment) as
well as their graduate students (research assistantship
stipends) and equipment needs. Hence even before
I arrived at Michigan, I was encouraged to write a
proposal to the National Science Foundation to obtain
a grant for my first two years. Fortunately, this was
successful, and we were able to obtain full 12-month
support for this period (along with the support of
several graduate students).
However, a gap in research grants created a lapse
the following year in summer support. I was only
able to line up summer support through off-campus
research appointments in California. Hence we loaded
up the car and off we drove, family and all, back to
California, first for a brief period where I served as a
visiting faculty member at Caltech, and then for several
months when I served as a Visiting Research Physicist
at the Lawrence Livermore Laboratory.
The Livermore experience was interesting from

17
several perspectives. I was working in the top-secret Q
Division, a group trying to develop the new technology
of laser-driven thermonuclear fusion. Ironically, a small
company in Ann Arbor, KMS Fusion, was also trying
to develop this technology, in direct competition with
the A.E.C. scientists at Livermore and Los Alamos. Both
the classified and competitive nature of the work led
to some bizarre situations. For example, I found myself
forbidden to discuss my research with several Michigan
colleagues who were consultants with KMS Fusion.
Needless to say, although this continued need to
support not only one’s summer salary but as well 20%
of their academic term support was accepted as a fact of
life by most faculty members in engineering, although
it was a source of major irritation that would later put
pressure on both department chairs and the dean.
While many university faculty members focus on
teaching only a few courses closely related to their area of
expertise, I rarely taught the same course twice in a row.
I enjoyed creating new courses and curricula, including
one of the first courses taught at the University on
microcomputers—the Apple II! For most of the 1970s,
I remained actively involved in research (with a steady
stream of research grants), graduate education (chairing
22 dissertation committees by 1980 and serving as a
member of hundreds of others), and winning several
University and national awards for both my teaching
and my research. This level of activity was sufficient to
propel me rapidly through the academic ranks, with
promotion in 1972 to Associate Professor (with tenure)
and full professor in 1975. I began to realize, however,
that the traditional faculty role, while enjoyable for the
moment, would probably not hold my attention for
the long term. Indeed, I always had great envy and
admiration for my more senior colleagues who had been
able to maintain both scholarly interest and momentum

through the several decades of their careers. Perhaps
it was my field of theoretical physics and mathematics
that frequently led to burnout at an early age, or perhaps
it was just a character flaw. In either case, I soon found
my concentration and attention beginning to wander to
other activities in the University.
Since I usually produced copious lecture notes
for each of these courses, I soon shifted to writing
textbooks to expand my pedagogical efforts. The first
of these, Nuclear Reactor Analysis, was written with
another junior faculty member, Louis J. Hamilton, and
covered most of the material required for both the B.S.
and M.S. in nuclear engineering. It turned out to be
wildly successful, soon becoming a dominant textbook
in the field. In fact today (2014), almost 40 years later,
it remains one of the most important textbooks in this
field. (I’ve always suspected that the fact that it has
remained at the top of the list, even though it has never
been updated, reveals just how stagnant the progress in
nuclear reactor engineering has been since Three Mile
Island!)
This led to a series of other textbooks, usually written
with faculty colleagues or former graduate students, as
indicated by the book covers in the illustration below.
The great interest in nuclear power during the
1970s pulled me into other areas, including a major
television series, Nuclear Power and You, produced
by the University of Michigan Television System for
nationwide broadcast. Unfortunately, it was scheduled
to first appear on WABC in New York the week of Three
Mile Island, so we had to do a last-minute retaping of
the program on nuclear reactor safety.
This television experience led to another major
project in the 1980s where I led an effort to develop an
entire undergraduate degree program for the nuclear
power industry utilizing studio-produced videotape:

To textbook author

18

Nuclear Engineering faculty colleagues

Nuclear Engineering students (with Jim’s textbook)

The intricacies of plasma physics

Celebrating Dad’s tenure...

ten courses with 40 hour-long lectures for each course,
along with problem sets and other references. Here
I might note today that this unusual effort would
be identified as a MOOC, a “massively open online
course”…actually ten courses in this case. However,
with the sensitivity about the proliferation of nuclear
technology to rogue states seeking to develop nuclear
weapons technology, we have decided not to circulate
our online curriculum on a global level.

University organization that wove new faculty and
their families into the community life of the institution.
In this role, she rapidly developed friendships with
the spouses of many campus leaders, including Sally
Fleming, the First Lady of the University. In 1983 Anne
served as president of the Faculty Women’s Club with
Sally Fleming as vice president, after the Flemings
returned to campus. Anne remained a prominent
participant in FWC activities during our years in the
role of dean, provost, and president of the University.
She was to continue this strong support later with efforts
to sustain the organization in the face of the changing
character of the University. Anne established the core
of a University-managed endowment to support the
service activities of the FWC. She led FWC into the
digital world, implementing the tools of the Internet and
database software both to manage and communicate its
activities to the members. She was also instrumental

Early University Leadership: First by Anne
Anne moved even more rapidly up the ladder
in her areas of interest. Within a few months after
arriving in Ann Arbor, she was selected as chair of the
Faculty Women’s Club Newcomers Group. This was
a particularly important assignment, since during the
1970s, the Faculty Women’s Club was the principal

19

Anne honored for her leadership of
the Faculty Women’s Club

Susan suggests Jim’s work would go
better with colored pencil...

in efforts to protect the fundamental purpose of the
FWC by serving the University community. And she
continues to serve today as a powerful force to protect
the history and character of the club as one of the few
remaining organizations aimed at introducing new
faculty families to the University and sustaining a sense
of community throughout the institution.
Serving as president of the Faculty Women’s Club,
was probably the ideal preparation for her later role
as First Lady of the University, since she developed
strong friendships with faculty and spouses across the
University. In the process, she developed a strong sense
of what was necessary to glue the campus together as
a community. And it goes almost without saying that
she also developed an exceptional ability to design and
manage complex events.

At the same time, Anne was determined to continue
her studies. After taking several courses at Michigan,
she decided to enroll in graduate studies in home
economics in clothing and textiles at Eastern Michigan
University and earned her M.S. degree in 1974.
However, as she became more involved with the
University through an array of service activities, her
interests became captured by the extraordinary faculty
of the College of Literature, Science, and the Arts. She
joined a small group of women auditing the core arts
and humanities courses of the College, from leading
faculty members such as Ted Buttrey, Diane Kirkpatrick,
Sharon Herbert, Marvin Eisenberg, David Huntington,
Don Cameron, and Ralph Williams. During these
years, she augmented her earlier studies at the B.S.
and M.S. level in professional fields with a truly liberal

The Duderstadt daughters seemed prescient...

20
Captured by the Vortex of Administration

Our last Christmas as a “faculty family”...
before the fall into administration.
education, with both deep appreciation for the liberal
arts, as well as a love for reading the classic literature.
This strong interest, particularly in history, was to
manifest itself later when as First Lady of the University,
she was influential in actions taken to better archive,
analyze, and disseminate the remarkable history of
the University of Michigan. She would continue these
efforts following our presidency by authoring a series
of books on the history of the University and creating
a series of web-based digital archives in areas such
as campus evolution, faculty and staff histories, and
a major web “portal” that has proven invaluable in
celebrating the Bicentennial of the University in 2017.
Ironically, through her leadership experiences in
various University community organizations such as
the Faculty Women’s Club, her friendships with many
of the women leaders of the campus, and her deepening
love and respect for the liberal arts of the University,
she was probably better prepared for service in the
presidency than her husband!!!

Because most faculty members were loath to become
involved in University service activities, I soon found
myself not only appointed to but also chairing numerous
faculty committees. Like most younger faculty, I tended
to approach each assignment with an activist agenda.
For example, when I chaired the curriculum committee
for the College of Engineering, I eliminated half of
the courses in the College catalog on the grounds that
they were rarely taught. When I chaired the faculty
advisory committee to the provost (first Frank Rhodes
and then Harold Shapiro), I led the charge to improve
the environment for research on campus. And when I
served on the University’s Budget Priorities Committee,
I participated in the effort to downsize or eliminate a
number of University departments and programs. In
fact, I became sufficiently visible as an activist faculty
member, that I was elected to the leadership committee
of faculty governance, the Senate Assembly Committee
on University Affairs (SACUA). At that time, I probably
would have considered eventually chairing that body
as the high point of my career. But fate was to intervene
before I could serve in this role.

The new Dean and Deanette of Engineering

21
One evening in the spring of 1981, while I was
minding my business as a budding radical in faculty
governance, I received a phone call at home from
Provost Billy Frye. I was offered a Faustian bargain
to become Dean of the College of Engineering, an
academic unit with over 300 faculty, 5,000 students,
and a budget of over $100 million. At that time my
administrative experience was essentially zero. I had
never been a department chair. I didn’t even have my
own secretary, and I had never supervised anybody
other than Ph.D. students. I was also only thirty-seven
and relatively unknown inside the College. However,
I was also brash and naive enough to view this as an
opportunity to correct all the deficiencies I had been
complaining about for years as a faculty member. After
some discussion, we decided that this was something I
had to do, and I accepted.
There was an interesting aspect to this offer and
acceptance that was to occur again in the future. Most
senior appointments involve long negotiations, in which
the candidate tries to negotiate both the best possible
personal situation as well as resources for the unit to be
led. In fact, one of the most important responsibilities
of a dean, provost, and president is to conduct these
negotiations successfully and land the candidate, much
like a big fish on a light fishing line. However, when
Frye made the offer to me, I simply responded with,
“Yes, I’ll do it. I trust you, and I know you will help

Dean Chuck Vest

later when I need it.” This approach threw Billy Frye off
balance, but as he was later to learn, I would indeed be
back seeking his support many, many times.
We really didn’t know what to expect with this new
role. Actually, Anne had more experience than I did in
the “upper reaches” of the University administration.
But sometimes naiveté can be useful.
Like most of my new jobs, the Dean’s role started
almost immediately. I was introduced to the Engineering
faculty the next day, and two weeks later I moved into
the Engineering Dean’s office. Shortly after arriving
early in the morning, I received a phone call from a vice
president informing me that my first job that morning
was to fire two 20-year employees who had been caught
falsifying their travel vouchers. Ah, the fun of academic
administration started immediately.
Throughout my first weeks, I met with each of the
leaders of the college: the department chairs, associate
deans, and key faculty. It was fortunate that I assumed
the ability to select my own team, surprising each of the
associate deans by thanking them for their service and
offering to help them return to the faculty. I then was
able to talk several other young faculty members into
joining the new administration, including Chuck Vest,
who was later to become president of MIT, and Dan
Atkins, later to become dean of Michigan’s new School
of Information, and Scott Fogler, one of the leaders in
chemical engineering education.

Dean Scott Fogler

Dean Dan Atkins

22

1950s Early Saarinen plan for the North Campus

1970s Early construction on the North Campus

1980s Engineering moves to the North Campus

1990s Major expansion with the Media Union

2000s The Engineering Campus is complete.

2020??? The North Woods Master Plan

Transforming the University of Michigan’s North Campus

23

The Dean of Engineering

Bombarding the administration with reports

In my meetings with the department chairs, two
of the most powerful chairmen, who had also been
candidates for the dean’s position, attempted the usual
power play by threatening me that they would step
down if they didn’t get their way. I thanked them for
their service and asked them for help in searching for
their successors, leaving both a bit stunned when I left
their offices.
Bill Frye had taken a chance by turning the
leadership of the College over to the young faculty. In
a similar spirit, my colleagues and I moved rapidly to
restructure and rebuild the College. We first overhauled
the salary program, then based primarily on seniority
and rank, and instead moved to compensation based on
merit. In the process we shocked the College’s assistant
professors by doubling their salaries over a two-year
period, stressing that we believed that they deserved
it. We launched an aggressive effort to complete the
move of the College to the North Campus through a
combination of building renovation, privately funded
facilities, and a major state funded facility. In fact,
Chuck Vest and I were allowed to go to Lansing to
lobby directly for a badly needed engineering facility,
thereby gaining the experience that would serve each of
us in our later roles as provosts and presidents.
Anne played a very important role in this effort. Her
friendship both with the associate deans’ wives (Becky
Vest, Monica Atkins, and Jan Fogler) was key to knitting
together the team. She also had good relationships
with the spouses of both the department chairs and
the members of the College of Engineering Executive

Committee. Her judgment from her own leadership
experience was an invaluable source of advice both
in rebuilding the quality of the College and taking on
massive efforts such as moving it from the Central
Campus to the North Campus.
Yet, because of the rather conservative culture of
the College of Engineering and the presence of several
longstanding staff members who were determined
that the practices of earlier deans would not be taken
over by these youngsters (all of us were under the age
of 40), there was little opportunity for innovation and
creativity in social events. The Dean’s staff still served
what the faculty called “gunky punch” (a mixture of
orange sherbet and ginger ale) rather than the more
potent brew we would have preferred.
However, although constrained somewhat within
the College, Anne’s long-standing friendships with the
spouses of the deans of Michigan’s other schools and
colleges provided a wonderful opportunity to build
bonds with these units. She used her presidency of
the Faculty Women’s Club in 1984 to strengthen these
relations, forming a network of these women leaders
that would prove invaluable as we moved up the ladder
to more senior positions in the University.
During the brief five-year tenure in the Dean’s
Office, our deans’ team was able to rebuild and reenergize the College. We completed the thirty-year-long
effort to move the College to the University’s North
Campus, recruited over 140 new faculty, doubled Ph.D.
production, tripled sponsored research support, and
boosted the reputation of the College from an also-ran

24

A plaque displaying the charts we used to increase
University funding of Engineering by 40%.

Goodbye to Engineering...

to one of the top five engineering schools in the nation.
(By the time Chuck Vest moved on, in 1990, it had risen
to 5th in the nation for undergraduate studies and 4rd
in the nation for graduate studies.) We also established
strong ties with industry, including the effort to build
one of the most advanced computer systems in the
nation, the Computer Aided Engineering Network or
CAEN, with the help of industry leaders.
Working with such a young, energetic, and talented
team to rebuild the College of Engineering was an
exhilarating experience, but by the mid-1980s, our
leadership team was beginning to wonder what we
would do for an encore. Indeed, the College had
undergone such dramatic change, that my colleagues
and I worried that the solidification of its gains might
require a different leadership style than the “Go for it”
approach of the Duderstadt years.
Of course, there had been probes from elsewhere: a
provost position at Virginia, a dean position at Caltech
possibly leading to its presidency, even a probe about
the Yale presidency (amusing for a gearhead). There
also had been inquiries from industry about senior
executive positions, such as the head of Ford Scientific
Laboratory or Los Alamos. But, in the end, Anne and I
both believed that our home was Ann Arbor, and our
institution should remain the University of Michigan.

mater, Emory University, as its provost, President
Harold Shapiro launched a search for a new provost
that eventually found its way to my doorstep. This
experience should have served as a warning of what
was to come on the next rung up the ladder of academic
administration. The selection of a provost was usually
a tightly guarded prerogative of the president, since
the two must serve as a tightly knit team in leading
the University. But Harold Shapiro decided instead to
launch a major consultative process, complete with a
broad-based search committee assisted by an executive
search consultant or headhunter, Jerry Baker, of Lamalie
and Associates. For almost a year, this committee met
with members of the University community, and with
Jerry’s assistance, interviewed a number of candidates
both internal and external.
As the search wound down, it became increasingly
clear that the selection would be made from among
internal candidates, and almost certainly be a dean.
Among those mentioned were Terry Sandalow (Law),
Gil Whitaker (Business), and John D’Arms (Rackham).
Actually, high on Shapiro’s list was Chuck Vest, then
associate dean of Engineering, but it would have
been difficult politically to pass over the other deans
(including me).
A final decision was made during the week of
spring break in 1986. Anne and the girls had already
left for a week at Walt Disney World, while I attended a
meeting of the National Science Board in Washington.
I was called out of the meeting for a phone call from
Susan Lipschutz, Shapiro’s assistant, informing me

Provosting
Once again, fate seemed to intervene. Following
Provost Billy Frye’s decision to return to his alma

25

The new Provost and Provostess

The first UM Executive Officer from Engineering

that I would be offered the provost position and asking
me to fly back to talk with Shapiro. Hence, rather than
flying on down to Orlando, I flew back to Ann Arbor to
accept the offer (again, without any negotiation). When
I called Anne about the position, she was not happy,
since she knew all too well how difficult the role of
provost would be. Her vast experience with University
leaders led her to conclude that the position of dean
was the best administrative job in a university, and
that moving into the central administration would be
stressful. How right she was!!!
Looking back, we both realized that this last
assignment was probably our downfall as a member
of the faculty family. Even as dean, one still retained
considerable credibility as a faculty member. I was
still able to do research, direct research projects, and
supervise graduate students—although I usually met
with them during noontime while jogging through the
University’s arboretum. Anne was able to maintain her
network of friends while serving on various University
advisory boards.
We tried to bring the same energy, excitement, and
confidence about the future to our new activities in the
provost’s role that we had brought to the leadership
in the College of Engineering. Within a few months I
had not only launched a major set of planning activities

involving every school and college of the University,
but also launched a series of initiatives that would
later define my presidency: a major effort to increase
the racial diversity of the campus community (the
Michigan Mandate), a series of initiatives designed to
improve the undergraduate experience, an aggressive
plan to improve the capital facilities of the University,
a far-reaching effort to achieve leadership in the use of
information technology, efforts to rebuild the natural
sciences, the restructuring of several key professional
schools (including Dentistry, Library Science, and
Education), and a major effort to modernize the
University’s technology infrastructure (that would
eventually lead to the Internet).
At the same time, Anne launched a similarly wide
array of events for students, faculty, and staff to draw
together the campus community. Within a few weeks
following my selection as provost, Anne had already
established a new University tradition to honor newly
promoted faculty each spring.
One of Anne’s early efforts involved a series of
monthly dinners held at Inglis House to bring together
10 to 15 faculty couples from across the University. Here
the intent was to provide faculty with new opportunities
to reach beyond their disciplines, to meet new people,
and develop new friendships. It also provided us with

26
a marvelous opportunity to understand better what
was on the faculty’s mind. However, the logistics in
designing and conducting the Provost faculty dinners,
which were to become a University tradition, were
considerable. This not only involved working with
catering and clerical staff to design and conduct these
events, but also developing a database capable of
supporting the invitations to these monthly dinners.
Anne also took the lead in developing an array of
events for other constituencies. For example, there
was growing concern about the vast separation that
existed between the Athletics Department and the
rest of the University. This separation was depriving
student-athletes of many of the important experiences
that should have been part of their education. So too,
it placed coaches in the awkward position of being
decoupled from the rest of the institution. Since the
Athletic Director, Don Canham, was approaching
retirement age, it was clear that building new bridges of
cooperation and respect between the Department and
the rest of the University could be of great benefit to
achieving a smooth transition in leadership.
Anne decided to take on as a personal challenge the

task of “mainstreaming” Michigan athletics. She began
by arranging a series of events where student-athletes
and coaches were brought together in various academic
settings–museums, concert halls, and such. The goal was
to stress that student-athletes were students first, and
that coaches were, in reality, teachers. In the process of
arranging and hosting these events, we began to realize
that the isolation among sports programs was just as
serious as the chasm between the Athletic Department
and the rest of the University.
Students and coaches enjoyed the opportunity to
meet participants from other sports programs. And we
began to build relationships with coaches and Athletic
Department staff, both through attending sports events
and by getting to know them personally.
Anne also launched a series of events for the deans
and executive officers of the University, including a
kickoff potluck in September, a holiday reception, and
a spring “thank God we made it through the year”
dinner. Anne made a point of scheduling each of these
events in a different part of the University, to introduce
the University’s leadership to its remarkable diversity,
e.g., the Museum of Art, the Museum of Natural History

Provost events

Honoring student athletes

27

Getting to know student government

And how to behave at Regents’ meetings...

(“Dine with the Deans and the Dinosaurs”), the Law
Club, the Music School, the new Chemistry Building,
the new Solid State Electronics Laboratory, and the
Clements Library.

expedition to Pasadena in the Shapiros’ absence. In late
December, we were plunged into the weeklong series
of events that swirl about the Tournament of Roses
experience. Part of the difficulty was that nobody knew
what was expected of us–or, indeed, of anybody else.
Perhaps the only experienced hand was Don Canham
himself, and he was not sharing his information.
For example, I was told to show up to make a few
remarks to a small Kiwanis luncheon in Pasadena.
The address turned out to be in the Pasadena Civic
Auditorium, and the “little luncheon” turned out to be a
televised affair for several thousand, with each speaker
introduced by cheerleaders and marching bands. Then,
I found myself scheduled as a speaker at a similarly
large affair at the Hollywood Palladium–sandwiched
between Bo Schembechler and Bob Hope. I learned an
important lesson here: Just be brief, since no one will
pay attention to the president amidst such celebrities
anyway! (By the way, Hope introduced me as just
another “acting president”…like the other currently in
the White House at the time.)
There was a certain homecoming character to the
trip, since we were back in Pasadena. But, during our
Caltech years, the closest we had ever been to the Rose
Bowl was avoiding the Rose Parade traffic on New
Year’s Day. To actually be involved as a participant
in the Tournament of Roses activities was quite a new
experience. Since the Rose Bowl was to be a frequent
duty during our presidency (five trips), the Pasadena
folks began to adopt us as former natives. I was even
introduced once as the ultimate Caltech Rose Bowl

Acting President
As the activities of the Provost Office accelerated, we
were also asked to take on additional responsibilities.
Even during normal times, the provost position at
Michigan was a particularly challenging one because
of its broad range of responsibilities, since the provost
not only serves as the chief academic officer of the
University but also as the University’s chief budget
officer. In this sense, the provost was also second-incommand and thereby empowered to serve as acting
president in the event of the president’s absence. Such
a situation arose late in 1986 when Harold Shapiro took
a brief sabbatical leave, spent partly in England and
partly in New York, working at the Ford Foundation.
During this period, I served both as Acting President
and as Provost.
The responsibilities in the role of acting president
began almost immediately, after only six months as
provost. In late November, Michigan upset a heavily
favored Ohio State team to win the Big Ten Conference
championship and a trip to the Rose Bowl. Ironically
enough, we were attending “The Game”, Yale vs.
Harvard, when the Michigan score was announced. We
suddenly realized that we would have the opportunity
not only to attend our first Rose Bowl but to lead the

28

Our first Rose Bowl (we lost...)
prank: a former Caltech student who actually managed
to infiltrate a Big Ten university, rise to the position
of its president, and bring it back to Pasadena to lose
in the Rose Bowl at frequent intervals. Of course, this
introduction ran out of gas when we soon learned how
to win the Rose Bowl.
The Rose Bowl trip was a harbinger of things to come.
We learned that as long as we were in the leadership
position at Michigan, we would never again have a
normal Christmas holiday. Every year, the Michigan
football team was destined to be invited to a bowl
game somewhere. And, as part of the contract between
the bowls and the Big Ten Conference, the president
was required to attend a series of promotional events
in the days preceding the bowl. So, like the football
coaches, each Christmas holiday we would pack up our
daughters–if we could convince them to go along–and
trek off to bowl country somewhere.
Our first Rose Bowl was very much in the Michigan
tradition. Michigan scored early and took a lead over
Arizona State, only to lose by a touchdown in the
final moments. As we walked out of the stadium in
the gathering gloom of winter twilight, we felt the
depression of yet another Michigan Rose Bowl defeat,
which had been so characteristic of Michigan football
during the Schembechler years.
However, once we had been trapped in the immense
gravitational pull of the black hole of the central
administration, it was impossible to escape. Within
a few months after descending into the depths of the
provost’s office, Harold Shapiro announced his decision

to leave for Princeton. Looking back, we realize now
that we were probably doomed to sink to the bottom of
the academic ladder—to the presidency itself.

The Duderstadt Family
However, before moving on to the ultimate test
of university leadership, it is important to provide a
more intimate view of family life at a university like
Michigan.
Like most faculty families, much of our time during
the 1970s and 1980s was spent in the all-consuming task
of raising children in Ann Arbor. In 1970, we moved out
of Northwood housing into a small house in south Ann
Arbor, which was to be our home for the next 25 years.
Our two daughters were first enrolled in the Gay-Jay
Montessori School and then in a sequence of public
schools: Lawton Elementary School, Slauson Middle
School, and Pioneer High School. Our home was
selected, in part, because it was next to Lawton School.
It was also next to the site where the buses picked up
students for middle and high school, although their
extracurricular activities usually kept Anne and me in
the taxi business.
The Duderstadt daughters, Susan and Kathy,
suffered from the “Ann Arbor Syndrome”, an over
involvement in extracurricular activities. While they
were young, they were involved in athletic activities,
such as competitive swimming and figure skating, and
in music, playing piano, violin, and flute. However, as
they grew older, their interests began to diverge.

29

Susan and Kathy followed the usual Ann Arbor trajectories: Counting to 1,000 at Montessori,
playing musicial instruments, joining in theater and sports, and finally trying out science.

30

Our daughters began to move in different directions.
Although Susan continued to swim competitively,
she became increasingly interested in theater and vocal
performance. She took voice lessons and appeared in a
number of musical theatre productions in junior high
school. Kathy went in a different direction, becoming
involved in an ever-widening range of athletics
including gymnastics, cross-country, and track. While
the Ann Arbor community encourages a broad range
of interests while children are young, activities become
intensely competitive as they approach the high school
level. Susan focused her interests on theater and chorus.
Kathy, however, continued to try to do it all: crosscountry, gymnastics, track, marching band, concert
band, and piano. In fact, at one point I had to visit the
Pioneer High School principal to negotiate just how
Kathy would divide her fall time among cross-country
(she was team captain), the marching band (she was
first flute), and AP chemistry lab.
The broad interests of our daughters necessitated
strong involvement on our part. Beyond transportation,
there were the hours spent at various athletic or
performing events. In fact, I once suspected that
my sudden flurry of book writing in the late 1970s
coincided with the hours spent waiting between events
at swimming and gymnastics meets.
Both daughters were also strong students, graduating
at the top of their classes in both middle school and high
school. Both won numerous awards–National Merit

Scholarships, Westinghouse Science Talent Contest,
and varsity letters. And both decided that they wanted
to leave Ann Arbor for their undergraduate educations,
since so many of their high school classmates would
be enrolled at Michigan (and, of course, their parents
would be nearby).
Susan eventually ended up at Yale University,
majoring in molecular biophysics and biochemistry,
and becoming a stalwart in the Yale Glee Club. Kathy
went to Harvard, initially majoring in astrophysics and
competing in track (the heptathalon) and crew, but later
switching to English Literature after a term abroad in
Italy taught her that “a Harvard education was too
valuable to waste on science”.
Fortunately, both daughters decided to return to
the University of Michigan for graduate work. Susan
returned for a joint program in Michigan’s Medical
School and School of Public Health, leading to an M.D.
and an M.P.H. Kathy took a somewhat more complex
route back to Ann Arbor. She joined the Peace Corps
after Harvard, and she was accepted as part of the
first group to go to Eastern Europe, to Hungary, to
establish an English language-teaching infrastructure
in Hungarian high schools. After two years in the Peace
Corps, she decided to switch back to science, and she
enrolled in a Ph.D. program at Michigan in atmospheric
chemistry. Like Susan, she decided against living in the
President’s House, and instead rented an apartment in

31

Susan and Kathy continued on an upward slope: top in their clases at Pioneer High School,
one to Yale and the other to Harvard, and then both returning to UM for graduate study,
Susan for an M.D. and M.P.H. and Kathy for a Ph.D. in atmospheric chemistry.

32
Ann Arbor while she worked on her PhD.
One of the perks of university faculty positions is
international travel, usually associated with sabbatical
leaves. However while our children were young, we
believed that it was important to keep the family in
the stable Ann Arbor environment, and we passed
up sabbatical leave opportunities. As our daughters
reached high school age, we did begin to travel more
extensively in Europe during summer vacations. One
of the most unique experiences was a month we spent
as a family in a fortified French chateau near Chartres,
while I gave lectures to scientists from the French

atomic energy agency. The Duderstadt daughters were
given a room in the turreted tower of the chateau–good
preparation for their later roles as University princesses.
During the 1980s we began a pattern of taking the
family to Europe for a few weeks each summer, just to
travel around and see the sights. We would generally
fly over on a cheap fare such as Icelandic Airlines, then
rent a car, and drive our daughters on the Grand Tour.
These trips provided quite an education for all. And it
was to be one of the experiences we would very much
miss with our more constrained schedules in academic
administration.

Scenes of La Breau - The chateau, walking in the fields,
the dining room and the wonderful French delicacies

33

As graduate students, our daughters not only had the opportunity to travel with us,
but to get married and start their families!

34

While serving as Acting President, the Provost staff selected Big Al, our large teddy bear,
as Acting Provost. I was told that Al did such a good job that he should have been selected
as my successor (but fortunately I chose Chuck Vest instead!!!)

35

Chapter 4

The Presidential Search
When Harold Shapiro offered me the position of
provost at the University, he also asked me to commit to
serve for at least five years. After all, Michigan provosts
frequently have been lured into university presidencies
(e.g., Roger Heyns to UC-Berkeley, Frank Rhodes to
Cornell, Harold Shapiro to Michigan and Princeton,
Chuck Vest to MIT, Bernie Machen to Utah and Florida,
Nancy Cantor to U Illinois and Syracuse, Terry Sullivan
to U Virginia, and Phil Hanlon to Dartmouth). I agreed,
but with the understanding that Shapiro would also
stay for that period. Imagine our surprise in 1987,
when the day before Spring Commencement–and the
completion of my first year as provost–Harold pulled
me aside at a reception to reveal that he and Vivian
had accepted the presidency at Princeton. This notaltogether-unexpected announcement set off a chain
of events that were eventually to sweep us into the
Michigan presidency. But the period from Harold’s
announcement in spring, 1987 to my inauguration in
fall, 1988, was one of the most challenging of our lives.
Anne describes the period best: “It was as enjoyable as
a fourteen month pregnancy...”

Welcome Back Home!
When Harold and Vivian Shapiro returned from
their brief sabbatical in London and New York, racial
tension on the Michigan campus was running high.
For several years there had been increasing racial
tensions on campuses across the country, and racial
diversity and climate had once again become an
important element of student activism at Michigan. The
University had placed affirmative action issues high on
its agenda during the l970s. But it was clear that the
University’s focus on this agenda had been distracted

by a number of other priorities during the l980s, not the
least of which was the extraordinary erosion in state
support and the University’s efforts to deal with this
situation. Throughout the l970s and early l980s most
quantitative indicators of the progress of affirmative
action objectives were declining. Minority student
enrollments had dropped, and key minority faculty
had left. Although there were occasional expressions of
concern about the lack of University progress on these
fronts, these were not sufficient to reorder University
priorities until the late l980s.
By the late l980s this had coalesced into a movement
known as the Free South Africa Coordinating
Committee, or FSACC, led by a small group of graduate
students in the social sciences. The group built most
of their activism around the case for divestment of
University holdings of stock in corporations operating
in South Africa. But there were other issues including
demands that the University establish Martin Luther
King Day as an official University holiday, that it reevaluate the manner in which tenure was provided
to minority faculty, and that it discard the normal
admissions requirements such as the use of standardized
test scores. Although such activism continued at a
fairly vocal level, it was stable, and it did not escalate
until a series of racist events occurred in early l987.
This activism was generally manifested in occasional
rallies on the Diag, angry testimony to the Regents at
public comments sessions, or letters to the editor of the
Michigan Daily. But the decline in minority enrollments
(with black enrollments at only 4%), coupled with the
loss of several key minority faculty members, was
driving a growing sense of concern and frustration on
the part of minority students, faculty, and staff.
Smoldering racial tensions broke into flames with

36

The Black Action Movement takes over the
conference room of the Acting President.

The Provost responds with the Michigan Mandate!

the Shapiro’s return. The trigger event used by student
activists was an incident in which an inexperienced disc
jockey on the student-run closed-circuit radio station
invited callers to tell their most offensive jokes, and a
series of racially and gender offensive jokes were told
on the air. Minority students and faculty were outraged.
Hardly a week went by without a hostile newspaper
article or an attack by a legislator. Due to widespread
media coverage, the events on the Michigan campus
were receiving broad national coverage. It was clear
that it was only a matter of time before constituencies off
campus were drawn directly into the campus activities.
And sure enough, Jesse Jackson, who was then running
for president, seized the opportunity provided by the
Michigan unrest to visit the campus, bringing with him
a new list of demands that coalesced in a major rally in
Hill Auditorium on March 17, 1987.
As if this series of emotional incidents were not
enough, an even more tragic event occurred the next
day when one of the most prominent Regents of the
University, Regent Sarah Power, fell to her death from
Burton Tower. It was the last straw. The events of the
winter term–the Legislative hearings on campus, the
disruption of the Regents meeting, and the Jackson
visit–had already put great pressure on Harold and
Vivian Shapiro. The Sarah Power tragedy was a
particularly harsh blow, since Regent Power had been a
very close friend of the Shapiros.
Earlier in the year, Shapiro had been approached by

Princeton University, first about the leadership of the
Institute for Advanced Studies and then concerning the
presidency of the university itself. He had responded
on both occasions that he was not interested in leaving
the University of Michigan. However, after the events
in March, Princeton approached once again and Shapiro
agreed to begin discussions with them and eventually
reached agreement to accept the Princeton offer. In
late April, shortly before University Commencement,
Shapiro informed the Regents and Executive Officers of
the University of his intent to leave.

Leading Behind the Scenes
When Shapiro’s announcement became public, two
things happened almost immediately that dramatically
changed our lives. First, there was a very rapid transfer
of power from Harold Shapiro to me. Although Shapiro
was determined to serve until the end of the year–in
part to see through the completion of the current fundraising campaign–it was also clear that he immediately
was seen not only as a lame duck, but one destined
to fly off to another pond. Anyone either on or off the
campus who needed a decision or a commitment that
would last beyond Shapiro’s final months came to me,
as not only the second-ranking officer, but also one
who would be in place to honor the commitment after
Harold’s departure.
An aside here: We were to experience a different

37
situation following our own decision to step down
from the Michigan presidency and return to the faculty
in 1996. Although we had expected that we would
almost certainly experience some erosion of power
during my last year in the presidency as a lame duck,
in reality I continued to experience the full authority
of the presidency until my last day in office. Indeed,
any difficult issue or decision continued to find its way
to my desk for resolution until the end. In retrospect, I
believe that this sharp contrast with Shapiro’s loss of
power was due to the simple fact that the University
community knew that we were committed to staying at
Michigan. Hence, they continued to have full confidence
in our leadership. The moment Harold and Vivian
announced they were intending to leave Michigan for
Princeton, they were immediately viewed as outsiders,
no longer part of the Michigan family.
The second major change in our lives was the
recognition, both on our parts and on the part of the
University community, that we were now viewed
as leading candidates to replace Harold and Vivian–
whether we believed this would actually happen
or not–and whether we wished it to happen or not.
To understand this, it is useful to take a brief detour
to describe the general character of the search for a
university president.

The Presidential Search
The search for and selection of a university president
is a fascinating process. Considering the growing
importance of the university in a knowledge-based
society and the complexity of this leadership role, one
would expect that a rigorous and informed process
would be used to select a university president. This is
certainly the case for most other academic leadership
positions (e.g., department chairs, deans, or executive
officers), whose occupants are typically selected by
experienced academic leaders, assisted by faculty
search committees, and driven by the recognition that
the fate of academic programs—not to mention their
own careers—rests on the quality of their selection.
Yet, at the highest level of academic leadership, the
selection of a university president is the responsibility
of a governing board of lay citizens, few with any

appreciable experience in either academic matters or
the management of large, complex organizations. This
board is aided by a faculty advisory committee with
similarly limited knowledge concerning the role of the
contemporary university president.
The contrast of a presidential search with the
selection of leadership in other sectors of our society,
such as business or government, could not be more
severe. In the business world, the search for a corporate
chief executive officer is conducted by a board of
directors, composed primarily of experienced business
leaders who understand the business and make their
selection in full recognition of their legal and fiduciary
responsibility and their liability for shareholder value.
In government, leaders are chosen by popular election,
with candidates put under extensive public scrutiny by
the media and voters. Yet the selection of a university
president is conducted in relative secrecy, by those
quite detached from academic experience, fiduciary
responsibility, or accountability to those most affected
by the decision—namely, students, faculty, staff,
patients, and others dependent on the welfare of the
institution.
Actually, the selection of a university president
is most similar to a political campaign. The search is
surrounded by an unusual degree of public interest,
both within the university community and beyond.
Various constituencies attempt to influence the search
with their particular political views and agendas. While
some view the most important challenge of selecting a
new president as sustaining or enhancing academic
quality as top priority, others are more concerned
with the implications of new leadership for peripheral
activities (e.g., the university’s athletic program),
service activities, or perhaps even the university’s
stance on controversial political issues (e.g., affirmative
action or gay rights). Local news media frequently
treat the search as they would a political race, complete
with leaks and speculation from unnamed sources. The
search is generally long—frequently at least a year—
and often distracted by legal issues and constraints,
such as sunshine laws. But the selection of a university
president has one important distinction from a political
campaign: those most affected by the outcome have no
vote.

38

Saying goodbye to the Shapiros...

Meanwhile, Back in the Provost’s Office
Two new facts of our life–that we would, in reality,
be playing the role of both provost and “behind-thescenes president-in-effect”, and that we would be
continually under the microscope as a presidential
candidate–made for a very stressful period indeed. In
fact, we later concluded that if we had known the trials
and tribulations we would face during the extended
interregnum of the presidential search, we probably
would have decided that the best course would have
been to simply make a Sherman statement and pull
back from the search.
But, again, this too posed a problem. It rapidly
became apparent that there would be only one internal
candidate in the search–Jim Duderstadt. In fact, the
search process itself essentially consisted of comparing
one external candidate after another against me to see if
I could be bested. Perhaps this was good training for the
“western sheriff” character of the modern presidency,
but it was also a bit unnerving. Nevertheless, within
a very short period, we concluded that we were into
the search process far too deeply, and that to withdraw
would likely harm the University. We felt we had no
choice but to stick it out until the end.
Part of the problem was the hapless nature of the
search itself. The Regents were quite disorganized
and spent the first several months skirmishing among
themselves as to just who would lead the search and
how they would organize it. They felt it important
to educate themselves about the key issues in higher

...and welcome back to the Flemings
education and identify the leading candidates by
traveling about the country talking with other university
presidents. While this was a perfectly reasonable–
indeed, laudable–objective, the personalities of several
members of the board rapidly proceeded to turn off
most of the qualified candidates. By mid-fall, the search
was in a shambles.
As the faculty search committee became more and
more frustrated with the behavior of the board, they
were finally able to persuade the Regents to retain
a search consultant, none other than Jerry Baker,
who had conducted the earlier search that ended up
selecting me for the provost. I was delighted. Jerry was
a professional of extremely high standards and was
quite familiar with the University. The fact that I knew
Jerry quite well led to my hope that I would be able
to track the progress of the search while paying most
attention to my job of leading the academic programs
and budget planning of the Univerity
Leading the University during this period was
quite a challenge. Aside from an occasional phone
conversation with Jerry Baker, I was quite cut off from
the search and the Regents. The last months of the
Shapiro administration were complex, consisting of
efforts to hold together the executive officer team and
maintain the University, without undercutting Harold
and Vivian. And swirling about it all was the endless
speculation as to whether I would succeed Harold
Shapiro. Each of my decisions or actions was analyzed
by others from this perspective.

39
Fleming Returns

Crunch-Time

By early fall it became apparent that the search
process was simply not moving ahead rapidly enough
to have a new president selected and ready to go by
the time Shapiro left for Princeton. The Regents turned
their attention to the selection of an interim president,
and they–and the University–were fortunate in being
able to convince Robben Fleming to return for a few
months. We were delighted by this choice, since we had
great respect for the Flemings. Fleming was identified
as the interim choice in the fall, which gave him an
opportunity to come up to speed on the many issues
affecting the University. It also provided me with
ample opportunity to work with him and develop a
close relationship that would be essential to operating
smoothly through the transition.
While it was a duty above and beyond the call, I
had the sense that Fleming was actually rather excited
to be returning to the fray. He was wise enough to
realize that there was no way that he could master in
such a short period the many complex issues involving
the University or the many details required for its
management. Fleming decided at an early stage to
focus his personal efforts on a few issues that aligned
with his strengths, and then rely on his executive officer
team to handle the other details. Key among these were
resolving the racial tensions that had developed during
the last years of the Shapiro administration, the issue
of a student disciplinary policy, and two key searches:
athletic director and chief financial officer.
While Fleming recognized that in many ways I
would be running the University behind the scenes, our
relationship was such that if he felt that I was headed in
the wrong direction, he would tell me immediately so
that we could re-evaluate, and if necessary, make course
corrections. Working with Bob Fleming also gave me
an opportunity to learn from his extraordinary people
skills, particularly in handling adversarial situations.
However, the fall was a very exhausting period for
us. When the Christmas break came, and the Shapiros
packed off for Princeton, we were not at all disappointed
to hold down the fort in Ann Arbor and let Bob Fleming
lead the Michigan delegation to the annual bowl trek
Instead, after Christmas, we took our own break to
California to spend several days in Carmel.

While we enjoyed working with Bob and Sally
Fleming, the first half of 1988 continued to be very
difficult for us. The task of maintaining the momentum
of the University during the transition period was
difficult. The newspapers carried continual speculation
about the presidential search, including various rumors
about the list of candidates.
During the search process, both of us were asked to
participate in a series of interviews for the presidency.
I first met with the joint faculty-student-alumni
committee. Then we both were asked to dine with the
Regents comprising the search committee at Inglis
House. We understood that several external candidates
were undergoing a similar process. But there were
some unusual aspects of being an internal candidate.
At one point Paul Brown, who as senior Regent was
chairing the search, asked me if I would be willing to
meet independently with Regent Deane Baker. He
said that Baker had grown increasingly hostile to me,
in part because of my strong stance on affirmative
action, and it was Brown’s hope that having the two
of us meet together could iron this out. I agreed, and a
clandestine meeting between Baker and me was held
in the Campus Inn–in the Ohio State suite, no less. The
meeting was bizarre, with Baker stressing his belief that
the Regents were, in effect, the University of Michigan,
and the rest of University community–faculty and
staff–were simply hired hands. It was clear from the
discussion that Baker was manipulative, and he wanted
to assure himself that he could control me if I ended up
as president. (I doubt if he found much support for that
influence from our conversation.)
As the search approached its final stages in late
spring, the papers became more active. And, ironically
enough, the Regents began to isolate their search
consultant, Jerry Baker, from their activities so that he
was increasingly in the dark. We knew the Regents
had narrowed the search to five candidates: Vartan
Gregorian, head of the New York Public Library;
Walter Massey, vice president at the University of
Chicago and director of Argonne National Laboratory;
Steve Sample, President at SUNY-Buffalo; James
Baker, Deputy Secretary of the Treasury (and an ultraconservative Republican that the Regents had agreed

40

One colleague thought he knew the outcome...

Another colleague (Chuck Vest) was not so sure.

to leave on the list to humor Deane Baker); and me.
However, in reality, it was also clear that the search
had actually narrowed to Gregorian and me. Gregorian
was flamboyant and charming–although without
either the experience or management skills to handle
an institution of Michigan’s size and complexity. But
it was also clear that his conversational skills and his
jovial sense of humor had mesmerized several Regents.
He was about as sharp a contrast with my style as one
could imagine.
During the final days of the search, the rumors
were running rampant that the Regents had made
their decision to go with Gregorian and were in the
process of negotiation. At the time, we were at our
daughter Susan’s graduation at Yale, and phone calls
back to Bob Fleming and Jerry Baker did not do much
to clarify the situation. We were completely in the dark.
Fleming felt that the Regents failure to keep me in the
loop–both as provost and the lead internal candidate–
was inexcusable. But he also said that his own dealings
with the Board convinced him that many of the Regents
tended to overlook the impact of their activities on
members of the University community.
These were rather depressing times for us. It was
not that we had any real desire for the presidency. It
was rather the recognition of our vulnerability. We had
played a highly visible role in leading the University
and sustaining its momentum since Harold Shapiro’s
announcement of his resignation. If another candidate
was selected–particularly one as profoundly different

as Gregorian–there would be strong pressure on us
not only to step down from the Provost position, but
probably even to leave the University. We had long
realized that one of the hazards of moving up the
pyramid of academic administration was that there
was less and less room as one moved toward the top.
We had been fortunate in being able to stay at Michigan
as we made the ascent (descent?) from faculty member
to dean to provost, but now that Harold had left, there
was only one position left for me in the University: the
presidency.
Of course, we had been approached about leadership
roles in many other institutions since the early days as
Dean of Engineering. But we felt for many reasons,
including the stability we wanted to provide our
family, that we should stay at Michigan. By the time we
approached the presidential transition, we realized that
the best way to make certain we stayed at Michigan
was for me to become president.
But from the rumors reported in the newspapers and
the total silence from the Regents, we concluded that
this was probably not in the cards. Then, the Sunday
afternoon after we had returned from our daughter
Susan’s commencement in New Haven, I received a
mysterious phone call from Regent Paul Brown, asking
if I could meet him the next day at Inglis House. But
there was absolutely no indication of the reason for the
meeting. I called Jerry Baker that evening, and he too
was totally in the dark. Both decided that the odds were
about equal between two possibilities. Either I would

41
be offered the presidency or told that Gregorian would
be the next president.
So the next day, Monday, I went out to Inglis House,
prepared for either possibility. I was met by Paul Brown
and Tom Roach. After about 15 seconds of chitchat,
they said that they were authorized by the Board of
Regents to offer me the presidency. Not being one to
beat about the bush, I replied immediately that Anne
and I had made a personal commitment that if I were
going to remain in the search until the end, it would
be with the understanding that if offered the position,
I would accept it. But then I also said that there was
another party that had to confirm this decision–Anne–
since the presidency was a two-person position. I felt
it important that they make a similar request to Anne.
They agreed, and I then called Anne.
Anne had also realized that the Inglis House
meeting could go either way. When I asked her to
come out to join me, she expressed some relief–but also
some anxiety. Nevertheless, she went over the Inglis
House, and together, we agreed together to accept the
presidency. We really had no choice!
However, there was a technicality here. In an
effort to comply with the state’s Open Meeting’s Act,
the Regents had utilized a process of forming a subquorum subcommittee to conduct the actual search.
They believed that to comply with the Act, it was best
to conduct a public meeting of the full Board, in which
I would be interviewed, then the search subcommittee
would submit its recommendation, and the formal
vote would be taken. In accordance with the Regents’
Bylaws, they would have to post the announcement of
this formal meeting 48 hours before it could occur. So
the earliest this process could be concluded would be
on Thursday.
Amazingly enough, we were able to keep a lid on
this until the day of the Regent’s meeting. In fact, the
only potential leak might have been just that. The day
before the meeting, a plumber fixing the kitchen sink in
our house overheard me having a phone conversation
to confirm details of the Regents’ meeting. He assured
us that plumbers fix leaks–even “presidential leaks”–
not spread them.
The next day, just prior to the Regents’ meeting, I
pulled the staff of the Provost’s Office together and
briefed them on the matter. There were probably

The Regents interview the candidate.
more sighs of relief than sad farewells, since they too
understood the alternatives all too well. The Regents’
meeting itself was relatively non eventful. As Tom Roach
said, the interview itself consisted largely of tossing me
a few softballs, e.g., ”What do you think the largest
challenges facing the University are?” Each Regent
had the opportunity to ask a question, and then Paul
Brown, as chair of the search committee, introduced a
resolution to appoint me as the 11th president of the
University, and the Regents approved it unanimously.
Since the Regents’ meeting was public, there were
enough folks in attendance to require the use of the
anteroom. Beyond our daughters, Susan, and Kathy,
there were a number of our friends on the faculty.
There were also a number of University personalities,
such as Bo Schembechler. (Needless to say, Bo stole
the headlines with statements such as, “He was my
choice!”).
In general, there was a very positive reception to
the selection, both on the campus and in the media. We
were well known to the University community, and
there seemed to be a sense of confidence in the direction
that we would lead.
Back to the final stages of the search, for a moment,
however. There had been a great deal of speculation
as to whether the Regents did decide first to offer the
position to Vartan Gregorian before falling back to me.
It is known that Deane Baker, in his typically maverick
fashion, called Gregorian and threatened him with
lack of support. Gregorian soon afterwards accepted
the presidency of Brown University. In a conversation

42

Bo assures everyone: “He was my first chioice!!!”
with me years later, Gregorian told me that Deane
Baker tried to discourage him from considering the
position. In fact, after Baker threatened Gregorian
over the phone, he also asked to speak to his wife to
threaten her as well. But Gregorian’s decision to pull
out of the search went beyond Baker and involved his
own assessment of the intensely political nature of the
Michigan Board of Regents and the difficulty he would
have working with them. He felt that it would be very
difficult to provide the strong leadership necessary for
the presidency of a University as complex as Michigan
with a board that viewed their role more as politically
elected “governors” of the University rather than
trustees supporting the institution and its president.
He was also concerned by the deep divisions on the
Board and its wild oscillations with each election of
new Regents.
Gregorian’s view was not unlike that of many
others both within and external to the University.
Indeed, shortly after I had been selected as president,
I was visited by an editor of the Detroit Free Press, Joe
Stroud. Stroud was a long time resident of Ann Arbor
and a good friend of Bob Fleming and Harold Shapiro.
He told me that his greatest fear for the University
concerned the dangers posed by its Board of Regents,
and he felt that this would be my biggest challenge. This
concern was shared by most of the deans and executive
officers of the University. Although most members of
the board were dedicated public servants committed to
the welfare of the University, because of its small size,
one maverick could easily destabilize it.

Introducing the new “first family”.

Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor; rich man, poor man,
beggar man, thief,...and university president!
In an effort to better explain how we saw the
commitment we had made in accepting Michigan’s
offer of the presidency, it is useful to review briefly the
nature of the job itself...actually for both of us, since it
was clearly a two-person job, for both the president
and his or her “significant other”, the politically correct
term used at the time for the spouse.
Many people would probably regard a university
presidency as the ideal career, where one is highly
admired, heavily pampered, and leads a life of luxury
comparable to that of an English lord. To be sure,
university presidents have many exciting experiences
and meet some fascinating people. However, those
contemplating such careers for the perks and luxuries
should take caution, because not only are these few and
far between, but they are accompanied by some serious
drawbacks.
True, a university president may live in a large
mansion, but for many presidents, this is more a place
of work than a pleasant residence. With the increased
public scrutiny of such roles, many presidential families
have found themselves assuming roles of caretakers and
even servants in the presidential residence, in addition
to their responsibilities as hosts for university events.
What about all of those perks like a box at the football
games and center-row orchestra seats at concerts and
theatrical events? To the president, an athletic event is
a working assignment with the primary objective of

43

The Duderstadt Team
raising money from donors or lobbying politicians for
the university’s interests. Who had the time to watch
the game while entertaining, persuading, and cajoling
potential donors or lobbying politicians?
To be sure, a university presidency can be a very
satisfying assignment. You get to meet lots of interesting
people, and you are working on behalf of an important
social institution. But the presidency is certainly not
a lifestyle for the rich and famous, as Chapter 10 will
demonstrate.
Universities, like other institutions, depend on
strong leadership and effective management to face
the challenges and opportunities posed by an everchanging world. Yet in many universities, the tasks of
management and even leadership are held in very low
regard, particularly by the faculty. To both students
and faculty alike, the term university administration
has a sinister connotation, like federal government
or bureaucracy or corporate organization. Although
many outside academe view a university president
as the top rung in the academic ladder, many faculty
members would rank it near the bottom, suggesting
that anyone aspiring to such a position is surely lacking
in intellectual ability, good judgment, and perhaps
even moral integrity. In fact, one occasionally hears the
suggestion—usually from one of the more outspoken
members of the faculty—that any strong academic,
chosen at random, could become an adequate
university president. The argument is that if one can
be a strong teacher and scholar, these skills should be
easily transferable to other areas, such as institutional

leadership. Yet, in reality, talent in leadership is probably
as rare a human attribute as the ability to contribute to
original scholarship. There is little reason to suspect
that talent in one characteristic implies the presence of
talent in another.
There are actually several decidedly different
flavors of university president. Most commonly, we
think of the role as that of the leader of a university
campus. But such a campus may be a component of
a larger university system, in which case the campus
executive is usually entitled a “chancellor” and reports
to a system chief executive officer known as the
“president.” The campus president/chancellor has a
complex array of roles, involving not only executive
responsibilities for the academic programs, business,
and service activities (e.g., hospitals and football teams)
of the campus but also important external roles, such as
private fund-raising and public relations. In contrast,
the president of the university system usually focuses
on managing the relationship with political bodies (e.g.,
state government and the university governing board),
along, of course, with bearing the responsibility for
hiring and firing campus chancellors.
Michigan is a bit of an oddity here, since the president
is both leader of the Ann Arbor campus and head of a
system including campuses at Flint and Dearborn, both
of which also have chancellors. While this dual role
as president of the UM system and chancellor of the
Ann Arbor campus greatly enhances the authority of
the position, it also doubles the headaches, because the
president is responsible for national, state, community,

44
and regent politics; fund-raising; student and faculty
concerns; and intercollegiate athletics.
University presidents are expected to develop,
articulate, and implement visions that sustain and
enhance their institutions’ academic quality and
reputation, an activity that involves a broad array
of academic, social, financial, and political issues
that envelope a university. Through their roles as the
chief executive officers of their institutions, university
presidents have significant managerial responsibilities
for a diverse collection of activities, ranging from
education to student housing to health care to public
entertainment (e.g., intercollegiate athletics). Since
these generally require the expertise and experience of
talented professionals, the president is the university’s
chief recruiter, identifying talented people, recruiting
them into key university positions, and directing and
supporting their activities.
In fact, one of the most common causes of a failed
presidency arises from an inability to build a strong
leadership team or an unwillingness to delegate
adequate authority and responsibility to those more
capable of handling the myriad details of university
management. Unlike most corporate chief executive
officers, however, the president is expected also to play
an active marketing role in generating the resources
needed by the university, whether by lobbying
state and federal governments, seeking gifts and
bequests from alumni and friends, or launching clever
entrepreneurial efforts. There is an implicit expectation
on most campuses that the president’s job is to raise
money for the provost and deans to spend, while the
chief financial officer and administrative staff watch
over their shoulders to make certain this is done wisely
and prudently.
The university president also has a broad range of
important responsibilities that might best be termed
symbolic leadership. In a sense, the president and
spouse are the first family of the university community,
in many ways serving as the mayor of a small city of
thousands of students, faculty, and staff. This public
leadership role is particularly important when the
university is very large. As the university’s most visible
leader, the president must continually grapple with the
diverse array of political and social issues and interests
of concern to many stakeholders of higher education.

Moral leadership is also an important responsibility.
Although it is sometimes suggested that the moral voice
of the president died with the giants of the past—Angell
(Michigan), Eliot (Harvard), and Wayland (Brown)—it
is clear that the contemporary university continues
to need leadership capable and willing to address
moral issues, such as integrity, social purpose, and the
primacy of academic values. Moreover presidents must
understand and respect the history of their university,
its long-standing values and traditions, if they are to be
successful.
Finally, the president is expected to be a defender
of the university and its fundamental qualities of
knowledge and wisdom, truth and freedom, academic
excellence and public purpose—an advocate for the
immense importance of higher education to society.
The forces of darkness threatening the university are
many, both on and off the campus. Whether dealing
with an attack launched by an opportunistic politician,
the personal agenda of a trustee, a student disruption,
or a scandal in intercollegiate athletics, the president
is expected to take up arms and defend the integrity
of the institution. Needless to say, this knightly role
carries with it certain hazards. The buck always stops
at the president’s desk.
So where does one find candidates with the skills
to fit such an unusual position? Although the early
leaders of American colleges were drawn primarily
from teaching or religious vocations, one finds today’s
university presidents drawn from almost every
discipline, profession, and career. They include not
only academics but also leaders from government
and business. Law professors were popular in the
1960s, with the need to mediate student disruptions
and handle the complex relationships with state and
federal government. Economists are particularly in
vogue these days, perhaps because universities are
once again under considerable financial stress. In
these times of technological change and a knowledgedriven economy, one also finds an increasing number of
university presidents drawn from the ranks of scientists
and engineers. University presidents from professional
disciplines, such as business and medicine, are less
common, perhaps because these professional schools
are usually so wealthy and powerful in contemporary
research universities that the faculty is afraid to “put a

45

Off to the Administration Building

Crisis Management

Moral Leadership

CEO to CEO

The “Vision Thing”

“Go Blue!” is always an encouraging theme!

The many roles of the university president

46
cat into the canary cage” by supporting the appointment
of a dean of a medical or business school as university
leader. Presidents of major universities are also
rarely selected from education schools, because these
programs are generally viewed as focused primarily on
primary and secondary education.
As one looks more broadly across the landscape
of American higher education, it is increasingly
common to find governing boards selecting presidents
with nonacademic backgrounds, such as business,
government, or politics. This might be explained, in
part, by the increasing financial and management
complexity of the contemporary university or, in the
case of public universities, by complex relationships
with state and federal government. But cynics could
also suggest that the selection of presidents from beyond
the academy may reflect the increasing discomfort of
many governing boards with “academic types” who
stress academic values, such as academic freedom and
tenure, rather than cost-effectiveness and productivity.
Generally, however, the most distinguished institutions
still demand that those considered for presidential
leadership have demonstrated achievement within
academic circles. Otherwise, the university faculty is
unlikely to take their leadership seriously.
Fortunately, my earlier experiences at the University
of Michigan had prepared me well for most of these
duties. As a faculty member, I had been fortunate to
have joined an academic program, the Department of
Nuclear Science and Engineering, generally ranked
#1 or #2 (to MIT) in the world. My achievements
as a teacher, scholar, and author had been awarded
numerous national awards and propelled me rapidly
through the faculty ranks. As a dean, I had been
responsible for one of the largest academic units in the
University, its College of Engineering. And as provost, I
had not only served as both chief academic officer and
chief budget officer for the University, but I had also
had the benefit of having as mentors two of the most
able university presidents of the 20th Century, Robben
Fleming and Harold Shapiro!

The President’s Spouse
Although unwritten in the university contract for
a president, there has long been an expectation that

the president’s spouse will be a full participant in
presidential activities. Much like the presidency of the
United States or the governorship of a state, a university
presidency is really a two-person job, although
generally only one partner gets paid and recognized
in an employment sense. At many universities, such as
Michigan, the First Lady of the university is expected to
play an important role not only as the symbolic host of
presidential events—and perhaps also as the symbolic
mom of the student body—but in actually planning
and managing a complex array of events, facilities, and
staff. These responsibilities include hosting dignitaries
visiting the campus; organizing almost daily events
for faculty, students, and staff; and managing
entertainment facilities, such as the President’s House
or the hospitality areas of the football stadium.
Throughout the University of Michigan’s history,
the spouse of the president has played an important
role. Julia Tappan provided strong leadership for
the frontier community of Ann Arbor and was
affectionately called “Mrs. Chancellor.” Sarah Angell
was strongly supportive of women on campus and was
instrumental in launching the Women’s League. Nina
Burton started the Faculty Women’s Club and served
as its first president. Mary Hutchins, Florence Ruthven,
Anne Hatcher, and Sally Fleming all played key roles
in building a sense of community on campus—hosting
students, faculty, and visitors. In addition to her role
as a faculty member in the School of Social Work,
Vivian Shapiro provided important leadership for the
university’s fund-raising activities, taking the lead in
raising funds to expand Tappan Hall.
This partnership nature of the university presidency
continues to be important in today’s era of fundraising, political influence, and campus community
building. Yet the spouse’s role is rarely recognized
formally in terms of appointment or compensation—
at least in public universities—although participation
by the spouse is clearly expected by governing boards
and university communities alike (just as the American
public expects of the spouse in the Washington White
House). The role of the presidential spouse is an archaic
form of indentured servitude that goes with the territory
at most universities.
Looking across the higher education landscape,
there are several approaches that presidential spouses

47

Hosting major events (dinner for President Ford)

Greeting distinguished guests (the Dalai Lama)

Planning major events

Renovating the Inglis Highlands estate

Launching UM’s History and Traditions Committee

Representing the UM (with the “60 Minutes” cast)

The many roles of the First Lady.

48
can take to this challenge. Perhaps the simplest
approach is a passive one—to just sit back and enjoy
life as royalty. Here, the idea is to simply show up
when you are supposed to, smile politely at guests,
and let the staff take care of all the details, while you
enjoy the accoutrements of the position. Of course,
since the perks of today’s university presidency are
few and far between, such a royal lifestyle has become
a bit threadbare on many campuses. Moreover, giving
the staff total control over presidential events can
sometimes lead to embarrassment, if not disaster. But
the laissez-faire approach is certainly one option.
The other extreme would be a take-charge approach,
in which presidential spouses decide that rather than
accept a merely symbolic role (with their calendar and
activities determined by staff), they will become a more
active partner with the president. Not only do these
spouses assume major responsibility for planning,
managing, and hosting presidential events, but they
also sometimes become important participants in
institution-wide strategy development in such areas as
fund-raising and building the campus community.
A third approach that is increasingly common
today is simply to reject any involvement whatsoever
in presidential activities (as if to say, “A pox on you!
I’m not a ‘first’ anything!”) and pursue an independent
career. Although this is understandable in an era of
dual-career families, it also can be awkward at times
in view of the long tradition of university presidencies.
In reality, many spouses with professional careers do
double duty, participating fully in the presidency while
attempting to maintain their careers, at considerable
personal sacrifice. This may be particularly true, for
example, of a First Gentleman, since many universities
are now led by women. While many male spouses have
independent careers, some have joined in partnerships
with their presidential mates in advancing the interests
of their university.
Fortunately, in our case, Anne and I had long
approached university leadership positions, whether as
dean, provost, or soon as president, as true partnerships.
To be sure, Anne faced a formidable challenge of being
thrust into the role as the university’s First Lady,
responsible for the myriad of events, facilities, and
staff associated with the president’s role in institutional
development. Beyond the responsibility for creating,

designing, managing, and hosting the hundreds of
presidential events each year, Anne would manage
several major facilities—the President’s House; the
Inglis Highlands estate, and the reception and hosting
areas at Michigan Stadium—as well as a large number
of staff. Fortunately, her earlier university experiences
as president of the Michigan Faculty Women’s Club and
through our roles as dean and provost had prepared
her well for such a role. Through these efforts, she
had developed considerable experience in designing,
organizing, and conducting events and gained an
intimate knowledge of both university facilities and
staff. She also had developed a keen sense of just what
one could accomplish in terms of quality and efficiency
within the very real budget constraints faced by a
public university.
Anne believed that since the image of the university,
as well as the president, would be influenced by the
quality of an event, it was important that the hosts (i.e.,
the president and First Lady) be involved in key details
of planning the event. Furthermore, she realized that
running these many events on automatic pilot would
inevitably lead to significant deterioration in quality
over time, a rubber-chicken syndrome. She also realized
that by raising the expectations for quality at the
presidential level, there would likely be a cascade effect
in which other events throughout the university would
be driven to develop higher quality standards. The
challenge was to do this while simultaneously reducing
costs. In effect, Anne launched one of the university’s
early total quality management efforts in the arena of
presidential events. While she was able to recruit and
lead a talented staff, she also participated in all aspects
of the activities, from planning to arrangements, from
working with caterers to designing seating plans, from
welcoming guests to cleaning up afterward. No job was
too large or too small, and her very high standards were
applied to all.
While Anne’s direct involvement in all aspects of
presidential events was perhaps unusual, there remains
today an expectation that the presidential spouse will
be a partner in advancing the interests of the university.
There is a certain inequity in the expectation of such
uncompensated spousal service, and this expectation
is an additional constraint placed on those seeking to
serve as university presidents. But it is important to

49

So what do we do first?

We would both need it!

understand that even in these times of dual careers
and the ascendancy of women to leadership roles, the
university presidency remains a two-person job.

search and concluded that they had had indeed fully
complied with the Open Meetings Act.
The difficult task of leading the University through a
transition between presidents had come to an end. And
despite the long and somewhat confusing presidential
search, we took pride that we had not only been able
to keep the University on track during the transition,
but also actually made some significant progress
on an array of issues ranging from race relations to
resource allocation to intercollegiate athletics. There
was a certain personal toll, since we both entered the
presidency a bit weary from this task. But our relief
in being able to stay at Michigan and our excitement
about the challenges and opportunities ahead, kept us
in high spirits. (Perhaps, our blissful ignorance about
just how challenging the months ahead also played an
important role in helping us to approach our new roles
with a spirit of optimism.)

The Search Is Finally Over! What’s Next?
Several months earlier we had been invited by Bob
Forman, Director of the UM Alumni Association, to
accompany a group to the Michigan Alumni Camp
in Switzerland in late June. Hence, a week after the
selection as president, the Duderstadt family was able
to get away from the aftermath of the search and trek off
to the high Swiss Alps surrounding Crans-Montana and
Zermatt. In fact, the only formal communication with
the University during this trip was a fax reporting that
the Michigan Court of Appeals had ruled against the
Ann Arbor News and the Detroit Free Press challenge
of the process the Regents used in the presidential

50

Fortunately, we had arranged early in the year with Alumni Director Bob Forman to attend
his Swiss Camp in Crans-Montana. It gave our family a much-needed break after the search.

51

Chapter 5

The First Year

The new first family
The first year of a new presidency is always
characterized both by excitement and unpredictability.
Since we had been at the University for almost 20 years
and furthermore had been serving in key University
leadership roles for some time, Anne and I faced far less
of a challenge in making the transition to the presidency.
We were well steeped in the traditions and values of the
University. Furthermore, since we had long standing
relationships with the executive officers, deans, faculty,
and staff, there were relatively few personnel decisions
to make at the outset–aside from the important selection
of a new provost.
After discussing the matter with Bob Fleming and
the Regents, I set September 1, 1988 as my official start
date, with October 4th selected for the inauguration.
This would give us the summer months to get ready for

the presidency, while finishing off the year’s remaining
responsibilities as provost.

Preparing for the Transition
The summer was a busy one. I still had to complete
the preparation of the budget in my role as provost.
In this effort, Bob Fleming and I also had to beat back
an effort by the governor to freeze the University’s
tuition levels. Bob tried to be as helpful as possible in
the transition. After consulting with me, he took the
lead (and the heat) in putting into place during his last
Regents’ meeting the “speech code”. While there would
be relatively few personnel changes at the outset, both
Bob and I realized that some changes needed to be
made. Although Bob was willing to be the bad guy, I

52

Farris and Ann Womack

The Three Provosts
Chuck Vest, Big Al, and Bob Holbrook

felt it more appropriate that as incoming president, I
should assume the responsibility for these actions.
The two most significant appointments would
be a new provost and a new chief financial officer.
Fortunately, the search for a VPCFO had moved
ahead during Fleming’s interim presidency, with my
strong participation, with an outstanding result: Farris
Womack, an experienced CFO from the University of
North Carolina. Since I had been involved in the search,
Farris was comfortable with my selection as president,
and he moved to Michigan to assume his new role at the
same time that I started my presidency. The second key
position, that of provost, would require an extensive
search and consultation with the faculty. Hence I asked
my Associate Vice President, Bob Holbrook, to wear
the hat of interim provost during the search, although
both of us (and the rest of the University) knew that I
would be doing both the job of the president and much
of the provost until the search was completed. During
the course of the fall term, a faculty search process led
me to select my old colleague, Chuck Vest, as provost.
(Unfortunately, Chuck was only to serve for a year
before being named president of MIT.)
Anne faced a different set of transition challenges
for the summer months. A decision had been made
to renovate the mechanical systems in the President’s
House between presidencies, and much of the house
was torn apart during the summer as contractors
installed new heating, ventilation, and air conditioning

systems. The house was also scheduled for a series of
modifications to make it handicap-accessible: a new
side entrance ramp and a new handicap-accessible
bathroom next to the library. Finally, a small amount
had been budgeted to replace the carpet in the house,
under the control of the interior design staff in the
Plant Department. Although Anne entered the project
too late to correct the design flaws in the HVAC and
handicap-accessible projects–which were considerable
and later to cause significant problems–she was able to
capture control of the interior design effort and redirect
it away from simply replacing the carpet and some of
the furnishings.
She also faced a significant challenge in staffing
presidential activities and events. This had long been a
problem in earlier years, with constant turnover in the
staff for the President’s House and Inglis House. During
the Fleming interim period, the decision had been made
to simply let the Plant Department handle the custodial
duties. Both houses had full-time managers, full-time
cooks, and other staff for maintenance, gardening,
and events. In addition, one of the secretaries in the
President’s Office had been assigned responsibilities for
supporting the president’s spouse. The cost, efficiency,
and quality of this operation left much to be desired,
and Anne faced the challenge of developing a new
system.
During August, I disappeared to my old North
Campus office to begin to put together my strategy

53

Preparations for a handicap ramp
for the University. A word here about this North
Campus retreat. Shortly after I had moved over to the
Fleming Building in the role of provost, the College
of Engineering had moved the Engineering Dean’s
office from its temporary space in the Chrysler Center
to grander quarters in the new Electrical Engineering
and Computer Science Building. Since my old dean’s
office–consisting of two small rooms and access to a
conference room–was vacant, I persuaded Chuck Vest
to let me continue to use this space as my “faculty
office” in Engineering. Since the office was adjacent
to the College of Engineering computing center, it
had very strong computer support and network
connectivity. This office was to prove invaluable as
backup command center when the Fleming Building
was under siege, e.g., from student protests or media
attention. It provided the perfect retreat for my effort to
plan the early stages of my presidency.
During the month of August, I used the office to
lay out the key elements of my presidency. I wrote the
key speeches I would be making during the year ahead
to introduce my agenda, including my inauguration
address. The walls of my office were covered with ideas
and outlines for the themes for the years ahead and my
vision for the future of the University.
In the meantime, Anne played a key role in the
design of the Inauguration itself. Although many
presidents, including me, would prefer to skip the
formalities altogether, universities have long recognized

the wisdom of inauguration events. Not only did they
provide a new president with an opportunity to lay out
a vision for the future, to set the tone, but inaugurations
also provided the university with visibility, attracting
leaders from other universities, government, and
business.
My inauguration fell during a particularly busy
period in early October. During the week, the Rackham
School of Graduate Studies held its 50th anniversary
events, with a major conference on Michigan’s scholarly
tradition (kicked off by an address on innovative
scholarship by me). It was also the week of the annual
faculty awards ceremony and the State of the University
address given by the president.
And it was the week prior to the MichiganMichigan State football game, ensuring that most
of state government would be in attendance at the
inauguration.
I wasted little time in setting out my vision for the
University during the week of inauguration activities.

The Early Agenda
Fortunately, much of my activity as provost had
involved leading broad planning efforts within the
University. In countless meetings with faculty, students,
and staff on campus, augmented with numerous
discussions with external constituents, I began to
focus on three themes for the future: knowledge,
globalization, and diversity. Knowledge was becoming
increasingly important as the key to growth and change.
Information and telecommunications technologies were
quickly breaking down barriers between nations and
economies, producing an increasingly interdependent
global community. As barriers disappeared and new
groups entered the main stream of life, particularly in
America, isolation, intolerance, and separation had to
give way to pluralism and diversity. A new, dynamic
world was emerging. If the University wanted to
maintain the leadership position it had enjoyed for
close to two centuries, it had to not only adapt to life
in that world, but to lead the effort to define the very
nature of the university for the century ahead.
I was aware of the long-held belief that each of the
earlier presidents of the University seems to have been
chosen--or perhaps was molded--by the challenges

54

Preparing for the Inauguration

Getting ready for the event

Pomp and circumstance.

55
of the times. The 1950s and 1960s had been a time of
dramatic growth, and Harlan Hatcher had led the
great expansion of the University as it doubled in size
and added two regional campuses. The late 1960s
and 1970s were a time of great unrest in America, and
Robben Fleming’s wise and experienced leadership
had protected the University and its fundamental
values during these difficult times. While Harold
Shapiro had positioned the University to adapt to a
future of declining state support, his most important
impact was in a different area. As both Vice President
for Academic Affairs and then as President, Shapiro’s
commitment to academic excellence was intense and
unrelenting. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to state that
during Shapiro’s era, the University first committed
itself to serious academic excellence and developed a
determination to compete with the finest universities
in America for the very best faculty, students, and
programs.
But we sought something beyond excellence. We
embraced the University’s heritage of leadership, first
as it defined the nature of public higher education
in the late 19th century, and then again as it evolved
into a comprehensive research university to serve the
latter 20th century. I became convinced that to pursue
a destiny of leadership for the 21st century, academic
excellence in traditional terms, while necessary, was
not sufficient. Beyond this, true leadership would
demand that the University would have to transform
itself once again, to serve a rapidly changing society
and a dramatically changed world. And it was this
combination of leadership and excellence that I placed
as a vision and challenge to the University.
The challenges to this vision of leadership were
great. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, state support
of the University had deteriorated to the point where
it provided less than 20% of the University’s academic
resource base. The Ann Arbor campus, ranking then as
the nation’s largest with over 26 million square feet of
space, was in desperate need of extensive renovation or
replacement of inadequate facilities. Although the fundraising efforts of the 1980s had been impressive, the
University still lagged far behind most of its peers, with
an endowment of only $200 M, clearly inadequate for
the size and scope of the institution. There were an array
of other concerns, including the representation and role

All systems are go!
of women and minorities in the University community,
campus safety, and student rights and responsibilities.
So, too, the relationships between the University and
its various external constituencies–state government,
federal government, the Ann Arbor community, the
media, and the public-at-large–needed strengthening.
And all of these challenges would have to be met while
addressing an unusually broad and deep turnover in
University leadership, in which many executive officer,
dean, and director positions throughout the institution
would change.

A Philosophy of Leadership
There are numerous approaches to university
leadership. Some presidents adopt a fatalistic approach,
believing that the university is basically unmanageable.
They instead focus their attention on a small set of
issues, usually tactical in nature, and let the institution
essentially evolve in a nondirected fashion in other
areas. For example, they might pick a few things to

56
fix every few years or so--state relations or private
fundraising or student life. This laissez faire approach
assumes that the university will do fine on its own.
And most institutions can drift along for a time without
strategic direction.
Over a longer period of time, however, a series of
tactical decisions will dictate a de facto strategy that
may not be in the long-range interests of the university.
At Michigan, for example, a sequence of such tactical
resource allocation decisions during the 1960s led to
an investment in a number of programs, e.g., dentistry,
education, natural resources, that were to experience
major enrollment losses in the 1970s. Because the
University did not have adequate mechanisms in place
to adjust resources as enrollments dropped, these led to
serious problems by the 1980s when resources became
more limited. While these decisions leading to selective
growth in these units may have responded to the
tactical situation at the time, they were not guided by a
broader strategic vision of the future of the University.
I believed that a far more strategic approach to
leadership was necessary for the last decade of the
20th Century. I also preferred a far more opportunistic
approach to leadership. To this end, I aimed at
developing flexible strategies that avoided rigid paths
(“deep ruts”). These would best position the University
to take advantage of windows of opportunity to
pursue well-defined objectives. In a sense, we utilized
an informed dead-reckoning approach, in which my
leadership team selected its strategic objectives (where
the University wanted to go) and then followed which
ever path seemed appropriate at the time, possibly
shifting paths as strategic plans were updated and as
additional information and experience indicated.
Perhaps, because of my background as both a
scientist and an engineer, my leadership style had an
additional characteristic. I never assumed that the
planning framework was rigid. Rather, I believed
that what might appear first as constraints could,
with skill and cleverness, frequently, be transformed
into opportunities. The key was to begin with the
challenging question of asking what one could do to
modify the planning environment, to never accept the
status quo as limiting the University’s options.
I realized that it was not appropriate (or possible) to
manage centrally an institution of the size, complexity,

and diversity as the University of Michigan. But I did
believe in the importance of establishing institutional
priorities and goals and instituting a process that
encouraged leadership at all levels of the University to
move toward these objectives. I sought an organization
with strong decentralization of authority, but strong
central strategic direction and information.
My approach to leadership involved three quite
distinct phases of consultation, positioning, and
transformation.
Phase I: Consultation
The early phase involved setting the themes of
challenge, opportunity, responsibility, and excitement.
During this phase, we spent much of our time meeting
with various constituencies both on and off campus–
with students, faculty, and staff, with alumni and
friends, with people throughout the state, the nation,
and the world. We listened carefully to their aspirations
and concerns, challenging them, and attempting to
build a sense of excitement and optimism about the
future of the University, in hundreds of meetings both
on and off campus. This was a period of listening,
learning, and thinking.
We sensed the extraordinary quality and excitement
“out in the trenches”, among the faculty staff, and
students of the University. We found individuals
deeply committed to quality teaching, scholarship, and
service. And we began to understand more clearly the
very special nature of the University of Michigan, of its
extraordinary intellectual breadth and the diversity of
teaching and research.
Phase II: Positioning
The second phase of the Duderstadt leadership,
while not so public, was far more proactive. Together
with dozens of groups, comprised of hundreds of
faculty, staff, and consultants, a strategic plan was
developed to position the University for a leadership
role. This plan, given the code name Vision 2000, was
then executed through a broad array of initiatives.
During this period some of the most important
strategic directions of the University were established:
e.g., the Michigan Mandate, rebuilding the University,

57
financial restructuring, the Campaign for Michigan,
state and federal relations strategies, the research
environment, the undergraduate experience, and
student life. Associated with these initiatives was the
recruitment and appointment of key leaders at various
levels of the University, from executive officers and
deans, to chairs and directors.
Largely as a result of these efforts, the University
would grow rapidly in strength, quality, and diversity
during the early 1990s. One by one, the various goals
of my strategy began to be achieved. Yet, even as
the strategy was executed and the university moved
ahead, there were growing concerns. To be sure, it
would be possible to take great pride in what the
Michigan family—faculty, students, staff, alumni, and
friends—would accomplish during the early years
of the Duderstadt administration. Working together,
Michigan would be positioned as one of the leading
universities in the world. But increasingly I realized
that the University had been strengthened within a 20th
Century paradigm, and that this century was rapidly
coming to an end.
Hence, I began to challenge the University, to
question whether the university that had been built, the
paradigms in which it had so excelled, would remain
relevant in a rapidly changing world. The America of
the twentieth century was a nation characterized by
a homogeneous, domestic, industrialized society—
an America of the past. Our students would inherit a
far different nation—a highly pluralistic, knowledgeintensive, world-nation that would be the America of
the twenty-first century.
It was during this second phase that I became
increasingly convinced that higher education was
entering a period of significant change. Hence by
the early 1990s, I began to shift the University into a
third phase, evolving from a positioning effort to a
transformation agenda.
Phase III: Transformation
I became increasingly convinced that the University
faced a pivotal moment in its history, a fork in the road.
Taking one path could, with commitment, preserve
the University as a distinguished–indeed, a great–
university, but only one among many such institutions.

However I believed there was another path, a path that
would require great vision and courage in addition
to dedication and commitment. By taking this second
path, the University would seek not only to sustain its
quality and distinction, but it would seek to achieve
leadership as well.
I believed the University could–and should–accept
its heritage of leadership in public higher education by
taking this second path. I saw the 1990s and beyond
as a time similar to that extraordinary period in the
late 19th century when the University of Michigan
was a primary source for much of the innovation and
leadership for higher education. I became convinced
that the University had the opportunity to influence the
development of a new paradigm of what the university
would become in 21st Century America, a new model
capable of responding to the changing needs of both
the state and the nation. But this would require clear
vision, an unusual commitment to excellence, and
strong leadership.
Hence the strategic focus shifted from building
a great 20th Century university to transforming
Michigan into a 21st Century institution. A series of key
initiatives were launched that were intended as seeds
for a university of the future. Certainly highly visible
efforts such as the Michigan Mandate and financial
restructuring were components of this effort. However,
beyond these were a series of visionary experiments
such as the Media Union, the new School of Information,
the Institute of Humanities, the Institute for Genetic
Medicine, the Global Change Institute, and the Office of
Academic Outreach that were designed to explore new
paradigms for higher education. Since several of these
initiatives were highly controversial, such as a new
form for decentralized budgeting that transferred to
individual units the responsibility both for generating
revenues and meeting costs, it was important that the
president return to a more visible role. In a series of
addresses and publications I began to challenge the
University community, stressing the importance of
not only adapting to but also relishing the excitement
and opportunity of a time of change. In the process, I
also learned the wisdom expressed centuries ago by
Machiavelli:
“There is no more delicate matter to take in hand, nor
more dangerous to conduct, nor more doubtful of success,

58

Off to Jim’s new office...
than to step up as a leader in the introduction of change. For
he who innovates will have for his enemies all those who are
well off under the existing order of things, and only lukewarm
support in those who might be better off under the new.”

An Active Fall
In late August, I moved officially into the Office of the
President. Actually, my “move” consisted of carrying
my computer down one floor from the provost’s office
to the president’s office. I had learned long before
that in highly public positions such as a university
presidency, it is best that one avoid making any
major–and expensive–alterations in the office of one’s
predecessor. In fact, a cardinal rule among long-serving
presidents is never to spend significant resources in
renovating the president’s office, the president’s house,
or the president’s box at the football stadium. Too many
presidents have foundered on these rocky shoals.
The fall term started off with a barrage of activities.
In addition to major events such as the inauguration, we
faced a packed calendar of receptions, dinners, trips to
visit with alumni and donors, meetings with students,
faculty, and staff, in addition to an intense schedule of
events we were expected to plan and host ourselves. It
was almost as if the University had awoken after the 18
month hibernation between presidents, and it was now
hungry and anxious to get on with the hunt.
The first year was an exceptionally active one. My
inauguration was only one of many highly visible
events for the University. The Rackham Graduate School

celebrated its 50th year with a major symposium on
Michigan’s impact on higher education–an opportunity
I used to address the issue of intellectual change. The
football team won the Big Ten championship and then
beat USC to win the Rose Bowl. In the winter term
CBS News chose to broadcast its entire morning news
program live from Ann Arbor. The men’s basketball
team, led by an interim coach, Steve Fisher, won
the NCAA championship. The Alumni Association
introduced the Duderstadts as the new first family of
the University to thousands of alumni across the nation
in a live television broadcast via satellite to over 50
cities. And I continued my themes of leadership and
change in commencement addresses at both Michigan
and Caltech.
My leadership team was both action-and resultsoriented. Hence, even as we were setting the key
themes that would characterize my leadership of the
University, key initiatives were being launched to
move the University in these directions. One of the
earliest such efforts was the Michigan Mandate, a
bold, strategic effort to change the University in such
a manner as to enable it to more faithfully reflect the
rich racial and ethnic diversity of American society
among its students, faculty, and staff. But, beyond
this, the Michigan Mandate was based on the premise
that academic excellence and quality education in an
increasingly diverse world would demand that the
University itself embrace diversity as one of its highest
priorities. Through an extraordinary series of actions,
including the deployment of considerable resources,

59

CBS Morning News Broadcast

A broadcast from the President’s House

the University embarked on a course that would double
the number of underrepresented minorities among its
students, faculty, and staff over the next five years and
rapidly place it in a position of leadership in higher
education in its effort to build a multicultural learning
community.
Led by Provost Vest and Vice President Womack, the
University also launched a series of cost containment
actions, including a major total quality management
effort in the University Hospitals that, together with
the completion of the new Adult General Hospital, was
to position it as the most financially successful medical
center in the nation in the 1990s. A series of strategic
efforts to improve both the environment and incentives
for sponsored research, coupled with an aggressive
federal relations effort in Washington, stimulated rapid
growth in the University’s research grant activity.
During the next three years it rose from 7th to 1st in
the nation in its success in attracting research grants,
surpassing MIT and Stanford, and earning the accolade
as the nation’s leading research university. And, even
though the fund-raising campaign of the 1980s had just
ended in 1987 with the completion of its $180 million
goal, the Duderstadt administration quietly prepared to
launch a new campaign in the 1990s that would aim at
raising $1 billion–an amount unprecedented for public
higher education and matched by only three private
universities.
Of course, all was not complete calm. There was
still considerable activism on campus concerning racial
issues, although my swift and energetic launch of the

Michigan Mandate began to rapidly build support for
this more positive agenda. Led in part by partisans
of Wayne State and Michigan State, the Legislature
launched another of its regular attacks on outstate
enrollments at the University. And Governor James
Blanchard attempted, unsuccessfully, to force the
University to freeze its tuition levels even as he dropped
state support even further in an effort to salvage the
Michigan Education Trust, a “pre-paid tuition plan”
that was seriously underpriced in order to gain political
support.
Yet, it was also clear that the University was building
on the momentum of the Shapiro years, gaining strength
and moving rapidly toward the compelling vision set
out by the Duderstadt administration.
One of my first formal athletic duties occurred the
day after my inauguration at the annual MichiganMichigan State football game. It had been a longstanding ritual for the presidents of both institutions to
meet in the center of the field just prior to kickoff, and to
exchange the game ball, which had been run from East
Lansing to Ann Arbor by university fraternities to raise
money for charity. At the reception prior to the game,
MSU President John DiBiaggio suggested that to spice
up the ceremony, he would throw me a pass rather than
hand me the ball. I groaned, since as an ex-tackle, I was
never very adept as a receiver. I could imagine that my
first official act as president would be to drop a pass in
front of over 100,000 Michigan fans.
Fortunately, I was able to take advantage of some
excellent consultation. That weekend, the great Michigan

60

I actually caught the football (with some advice from Michigan great, Tom Harmon)!
team of 1942 was being honored, and whom should I
find myself sitting next to on the sideline prior to the
ceremony but the great Tom Harmon. He provided the
best possible advice: “Just relax!” It worked. I caught
the pass. And Michigan went on to thrash Michigan
State on its way to a Big Ten championship and a trip to
the Rose Bowl.

Some Winter Surprises
Although winter is usually a relatively quiet time
in “good, gray Michigan”, our first winter in the
presidency did have some special moments. Early in
the year, CBS Morning News selected the University as
the site for a live broadcast for one of their two-hour
morning programs. CBS was intending to visit several
campuses throughout the year, and as a highly visible
public university, Michigan seemed like a good place
for one of their first programs. In fact, they began the
broadcast by noting that the University of Michigan
was “an institution that simply competes in a different
league than most of its peers in higher education”.
While the University enjoyed the publicity, there were
also concerns about student demonstrators using the
live broadcast to push their particular agendas to the
world.
Fortunately, the weather came to our rescue. On
the day of the broadcast, the temperature dropped
below zero, and the campus was frozen solid. Student
protesters were nowhere to be seen. CBS decided to
spice up the program with various on-location visits

(e.g., a student residence hall room, the Michigan
Marching Band playing a frozen version of the Victors
in front of Burton Tower) and live interviews with
Michigan personalities such as Bo Schembechler, Tom
Haden (former founder of the SDS), and Roger Smith
(then CEO of General Motors). I was also interviewed
at the beginning of the program by co-host Kathleen
Sullivan. As I faced the live cameras, I realized that I
had a rare opportunity to destroy an entire career with
a mis-statement. Sullivan did her part to make things
even more exciting by suggesting in her first question
that the Michigan campus was plagued by racism!
One of the major surprises in the spring of 1989
was, of course, the Cinderella story of Steve Fisher and
the Michigan basketball team’s success in winning the
NCAA championship. The climax of the NCAA men’s
basketball season, the Final Four, was one of those
cosmic events that becomes a command performance
for the president. However, unlike a bowl trip, in
which one has a month or more to prepare, the Final
Four descends on one at the very last minute. The final
games sending teams to the Final Four occur the week
before. Hence there was always a certain spontaneity–
and almost panic–surrounding the event.
We had an interesting television experience later
in the term, when we hosted a live satellite broadcast
from the President’s House to UM Alumni clubs in 50
cities across the country. The President’s House was
crammed with equipment–lights, cameras, and cables–
and a large satellite dish was set up in the driveway.
Although the broadcast came off smoothly, the house

61
was a shambles afterwards. Fortunately, however,
Anne had already developed her plan for renovating
the interior of the house, and this was scheduled to
begin after the broadcast.

Springtime and Commencement
We finished off our first year in the presidency with
a series of commencements: at Michigan, Harvard, and
Caltech. Of course, the president was always the master
of ceremonies at Michigan commencements. However
there has been a long tradition that a new Michigan
president also gives the commencement address at his or
her first spring commencement. This was not something
I was looking forward to, since during the recent years
of commencement exercises held at Michigan Stadium,
the students had become increasingly poorly behaved.
In fact, the year before, the graduating students had
embarrassed the commencement speaker by launching
the chant, “Boring, boring, boring, ...” during his speech.
To avoid this, I crafted a flexible speech that could
be drastically shortened on the fly should the attention
of the graduates wander. Since Michigan spring
commencement is generally on the first weekend in
May, the weather can be unpredictable. In this case,
although it was dry, it was also quite cold, and everyone
appreciated a relatively short speech.
Several weeks later, we found ourselves on the other
end of a commencement ceremony when we attended

Caltech Commencement
our daughter Kathy’s commencement at Harvard.
Since we had close ties at Radcliffe–Linda Wilson,
former UM VP-Research was the Radcliffe president
and Robin Jacoby, my former assistant was Radcliffe’s
vice president for development–we had excellent seats,
right behind German Chancellor Helmut Kohl, whose
son was in Kathy’s class.
The finale of the commencement season occurred
at Caltech, where I was the commencement speaker. I
gave a somewhat more serious version of the address I
had prepared for Michigan, and since Caltech students
tend to be more attentive at such events, they listened
and appeared to appreciate my remarks.

62

Step One: The first step: listen, listen, listen!!!

63

Step Two: Then lay out the vision.

64

Step Three: Getting to know the VIPs.

65

Some early surprises: a Rose Bowl victory and a NCAA championship!

66

Entertaining thousands...

67

Personal escapes...and family pride!

68

Chapter 6

Living in the White House

Bahooga...Bahooga...Bahooga!!! What is that racket?
And at 3:00 in the morning, no less! Gad. The burglar
alarm again. Well, let’s check it out. Ah, the intrusion
alarm has been triggered in Sector 12. Let’s see now,
that’s the back study–just about as far from the bedroom
as you can get in the President’s House. And isn’t that
where the alarm triggered last month, all because a
spider walked across the sensor?
Now the phone is ringing. Probably Public Safety.
“Yes, this is the President speaking. And, yes, Anne
and I are OK. Probably just another spider. You want to
come over and check it out. At three in the morning? It’s
required by your procedures? Oh, well, I’ll get dressed
and come down to let you in. “ Another sleepless night
in Ann Arbor’s White House!
Legend has it that in the good old days, university
presidents were treated as royalty. They were provided
with presidential mansions staffed with cooks and
servants and were driven about by chauffeurs in
limousines; they traveled to exotic locations and

spent their summers golfing, reading, and relaxing
in their comfortable summer homes. While there are
presumably still a few presidents of private universities
who enjoy such perquisites (although this, too, may be a
myth), the lives of today’s public university presidents
are far more austere.
Particularly in these days of concern about
the rising costs of a college education, university
presidents can be swept away by public perceptions of
luxury or privilege. The list of presidential casualties
from excessive expenditures on residences, offices,
entertainment, or stadium boxes continues to lengthen.
Because Anne and I were bathed in a public spotlight in
which the local newspaper routinely led attacks on the
president for excessive salary, (my salary was $129,000,
Anne’s work was voluntary) it was clear that we needed
to be creative in how we handled our personal lives. Far
from being pampered residents, we served more in the
roles of the butler, maid, and cook.

69
First Impressions
Like many universities, Michigan requires its
president to live in the President’s House. This ancient
facility, located in the center of the Michigan campus,
is the oldest building on the university campus, built
in 1840 as a home for professors and later enlarged
and modified over the years by each of Michigan’s
presidents, until it became one of the largest and most
distinguished-looking houses in Ann Arbor. Like most
residents of Ann Arbor, Anne and I used to drive by
the stately Italianate structure at 815 South University
and wonder what it must be like to live there. From
the outside, it looked elegant, tranquil, and exactly like
what one would expect as the home for the university’s
First Family—the “White House” for Ann Arbor.
Yet, as we were soon to learn after accepting the
Michigan presidency, the external appearance of the
house was deceptive, to say the least. Indeed, our first
visit to the house after being named as Michigan’s next
president was during the course of a massive renovation
project. The front yard looked like a battlefield, with
trenches all around. As we entered the house, we noticed
a large toilet sitting quite prominently in the dining
room. The interior of the house had a rather threadbare
look. The plaster walls were cracked and stained by
the not-infrequent leaks in the roof and plumbing. The
carpet, drapes, and furniture dated from the 1950s. The
wallpaper was taped together in many places. While
earlier presidents had decorated the house with some

of their own art and furniture, this had been largely
replaced by rented furniture during the interregnum
between presidencies. The age of the President’s House
posed a particular challenge, since rare was the day
when something did not malfunction or break down.
This disruption by repair projects turned out to be a
perpetual characteristic of living and working in a
house designed for the mid-nineteenth century but
used as if it were a modern conference center.
The President’s House at Michigan is one of the
original four houses constructed to house faculty when
the University moved from Detroit to Ann Arbor in
1837. While the other three houses were used in various
ways and eventually torn down, the house at 815 South
University became the residence of the University’s first
president after moving to Ann Arbor, Henry Tappan. It
became a custom for the president to live in the house,
and over the years the house expanded in all directions.
For example, James Angell refused to move to Ann
Arbor until the University installed indoor plumbing.
President Ruthven, an enologist, added a conservatory
room that could house the cases for his collection of
snakes. The rather simple two-story structure acquired
additional rooms, wings, and even a third story. By
the 1980s, the house had grown to a 14,000 square foot
complex. As we were fond of telling dinner guests, you
could find comfort in any direction, up or down, since
the house had nine bathrooms!
But this random expansion led to challenges. First,
the house had never been designed as a family home

What we saw...what we got!

70
but rather as a public facility. Indeed, essentially all
of the first floor of the house was public space–living
room, dining room, dining porch, sunroom, library, and
kitchen. Most of the personal living of the President
was in a rather small apartment on the second floor
(bedroom, sitting room, and bath). Several other rooms
on the 2nd and 3rd floor were used as family/guest
bedrooms, studies, and laundry facilities.
The house had evolved to accommodate the
imperial presidential style of a time long past. At one
time live-in staff had served the President. Prior to our
presidency, the house continued to enjoy an extensive
staff including a facilities manager, a full-time cook, an
upstairs maid, cleaning staff, and gardening staff. Yet
this was a pattern that could simply not be continued in
the more egalitarian atmosphere of the 1990s.
Hence, when staff turnover between presidencies
allowed restructuring, we believed it more consistent
with the time to shift to the use of part-time cleaning
help (actually provided one day per week by Inglis
House staff), gardening staff (again provided by the
Inglis House gardeners), and the use of caterers for all
entertaining. In essence, we chose to live in the house
alone, accepting full responsibility for maintaining
the private space in the house, cooking for ourselves,
and arranging for whatever special maintenance was
necessary, which was an ongoing challenge.

Renovation
The age of the house posed a particular challenge,
since rare was the day when something didn’t
malfunction or break down. This was complicated by
the fact that during earlier presidencies, the University
had attempted to modernize the house by adding air
conditioning, modern appliances, and such, but without
a major overhaul of the mechanical and electrical
infrastructure. In fact, during the interim period prior
to our presidency, the University tore into the house to
install a very complex air-handling system, along with
a fire protection sprinkler system and handicap access.
Unfortunately, these systems were not only far too
complex (since one of the design objectives had been to
provide individual temperature control for each room
in the house), but they resulted in a total overload for
the stately 150-year-old structure. When inspecting

the stucco surface on the exterior of the house several
years after we had moved in, workmen noticed with
alarm that the massive weight of the HVAC equipment
installed in the attic was overloading the house structure
and causing the walls to shift. We had several delightful
weeks as dozens of construction workers roamed about
the house, jacking walls back into place and installing
braces.
While well intentioned, the installation of handicap
access facilities was also a disaster. The doorway for the
first-floor handicap bathroom was designed in such a
way that the first wheel-chair visitor who used it got
trapped inside. The handicap access ramp to the side
door rapidly became one of Ann Arbor’s most popular
skateboard areas.
But there was one positive result to the extensive
work done in the house prior to our presidency. Since so
much of the house was torn up for the new HVAC and
sprinkler systems, the University had budgeted funds
to patch things back together again after the heavy
construction. In fact, the members of the University’s
Interior Decorating staff were having a field day,
picking out not only new carpets but ornamental items
such as silver tea services and custom fireplace screens
for the house.
At this point Anne, as First Lady of the University,
stepped in and brought the restoration project to an
abrupt halt. For it was apparent that the University staff
were simply going to renew the existing interior of the
house, which essentially dated from the 1950s. Since
Anne had a strong interest in historic preservation, she
wanted to first assess the opportunities to return the
house to a more elegant and timeless design.
Actually, this turned into one of those “teachable
moments” that educators so enjoy. First, it provided a
case study in how University staffs relate to the First
Family. “Don’t you worry about these things. We’ve
maintained the President’s House for decades, and we
know just how it should look. So why don’t you folks
take a long trip someplace, and when you return it will
all look just like new!” Well-intentioned paternalism.
Coupled with a good dose of “Well, I told you so...”
and “Mrs. Duderstadt is not going to get her way with
‘our’ house!”
However, this event also gave us an opportunity to
demonstrate the Duderstadt style: “Just because it isn’t

71
broken, it doesn’t mean that it’s right!” “Humor us.
Let us try it a different way, and see if we can improve
things.”
With the help of some of the Plant Department
people–the carpenters, electricians, painters, and
plumbers who were to become some of the our best
friends through their frequent visits to the house–Anne
stripped the old carpets and wallpaper and exposed
the true majesty of the house. Original quarter-sawed
oak floors. Hand-crafted trim and molding. And,
interestingly enough, when all the new designs were
complete and bids were received, the cost of this
restoration was actually less than the amount budgeted
originally simply to replace the carpet.
The restoration project was greatly enhanced by
the efforts of several of Michigan’s leading furniture
manufacturers. A century ago, Michigan was the
nation’s leading source of quality furniture, and many
of these fine old companies were still in existence. Anne
persuaded several of them to donate furniture for the
public spaces in the President’s House.
Of course, one is never completely finished in the
renovation of a residence as old as the President’s House
at Michigan. The vibrations from each new construction
project on campus would cause cracks to appear in the
plaster walls. The plumbing and electrical equipment
would frequently fail. An unusually cold winter or hot
summer could cause havoc. But the renovated interior
of the house was both elegant and welcoming. In fact,
long-time visitors to the President’s House told us that
it had never looked so good!
Perhaps the best way to understand the renovation
of the President’s House is through a comparison of
views before and after the renovation on the following
pages.

Working in the White House
At Michigan, we were expected–indeed, required
by contractual obligation–to live in the 14,000 square
foot President’s House in the center of the campus, the
“White House” to the rest of Ann Arbor. But in a public
spotlight in which the local newspaper routinely led
attacks on the president for excessive salary (although
the Michigan president’s salary ranked at the bottom
of the Big Ten and below almost 100 of the University’s

faculty), it was clear that we needed to be creative in
how we handled our personal lives.
The first problem was staffing. Certainly there
was no shortage of staff or funding associated with
presidential events and facilities. In fact, the staffing
pattern Anne inherited was the following:
	
Assistant to the President for events
	
Secretary to the First Lady
	
Facilities and Grounds Manager
	
Manager, Inglis House
	
Cook, President’s House
	
Cook, Inglis House
	
Housekeepers, President’s House (2)
	
Housekeeper, Inglis House
	
Gardeners (4)
	
in addition to staff in the Office of Development who
did much of the events planning and management.
Although it took several years of natural attrition and
job redefinition, Anne rebuilt this team as follows:
	
Events and Facilities (Barbara Johnson)
	
Consultant on Catering (Judy Dinesen)
	
Housekeepers (both houses): (Inge Roncoli
		
and Kurt Szalazy)
	
Gardeners (Joan Kobrinski and staff)
By merging the management of the President’s
House, Inglis House, and presidential events, Anne cut
the number of staff in half and the operating budget
even further. Key in this strategy was the use of local
caterers to handle most of the events. By developing
close working relationships with the best caterers in
Ann Arbor, but then also having them compete against
one another in terms of quality and price, Anne and
her team were able to get exceptionally high quality at
highly competitive costs.
The range of size and complexity of events was
unusual. Anne planned and managed events ranging
from small, intimate dinners for donors to receptions
for hundreds in the President’s House or a bowl game
to weekly football tailgate events for many hundreds of
guests every home game. After each season, she would
carefully go over all of the expenses and see where cost
could be cut without sacrificing quality.

72

The University decided to update the HVAC system in the house by tearing it apart;
Anne stepped in to supervise the renovation of the interior - a year later

73

The President’s House - Before and After

74

The President’s House - Before and After

75

The President’s House - Before and After

76

The President’s House - Before and After

77

The President’s House - Before and After

78
We soon realized that the only way we could walk
this tightrope between cost containment and quality of
events was to accept personal responsibility for many
of the roles that had been handled earlier by staff. We
shopped for our own groceries and cooked our own
meals, so that we could dispense with a cook. We did
our own laundry and cleaned our living areas in the
President’s House, so we could reduce housekeeping
expenses. We used our own furniture for those areas
where we lived and augmented University furniture in
public areas of the house with our own items to make
the house a home. We drove our personal car for most
of our trips. And I stopped using the University driver
for trips about the state and began to drive myself. In
fact, we even paid for our own moving expenses when
we moved into the President’s House and once again
when we moved out eight years later
Needless to say, this parsimonious style did impose
additional time, labor, and financial burdens on us.
It also led to a rather strange life, in which we lived
alone in a gigantic house that had been maintained
throughout most of its existence by professional staff–a
manager, cook, servants, gardeners, etc. Yet, in this way
we managed to reduce very significantly the operating
expenses of the house. And, perhaps more important,
we removed any possibility that we could be targeted
for living a life of luxury at the expense of the public
(although that didn’t stop the local newspaper from
trying to create the false impression that we did).

Knock, knock!...Who’s there?...
One of the running jokes at the President’s House
concerns who shows up at the door. As indicated earlier,
we lived quite alone in the house–all 14,000 square feet
of it. Rarely were any staff members available to answer
the doorbell. We were the maid and the butler.
Actually, it is more correct to say “doorbells”, since
that was part of the problem. Three different doors were
routinely used by visitors. But these were used almost
randomly, with University maintenance staff coming to
the rear side-porch door, friends to the front side door,
and the curious (or distinguished guests) coming to the
front door. Although each doorbell had a characteristic
ring, even after eight years, it was hard to remember
which ring was for which door. Frequently, when

expecting guests, we would find ourselves running
from door to door, trying to see whether anyone was
there.
The second difficulty had to do with the size of the
house. If we were in our upstairs living quarters, it was
very difficult to get down to the first floor to answer the
door in a timely fashion–particularly in the evening. In
fact, it was sometimes difficult to even hear the doorbell
in some parts of the house, particularly in the rear study.
But the most serious challenge was safety. Since
the house was so visible–similar to the White House
in Washington–people with an ax to grind with the
University or just mad in general, would be drawn to
the house as a symbol of their anger. All too frequently,
those showing up at the house posed some security
risk. And one need only note the dangers experienced
by presidents at other universities...UC-Berkeley, Iowa,
Minnesota...to realize the hazards posed by unexpected
visitors.
Hence, we adopted the practice of simply ignoring
most doorbells in the evening, unless we were expecting
someone or could determine who was at the door. For
example, if a group of students dropped by singing
Christmas carols, or a group of students would appear
at the front door to celebrate an important athletic
victory, we would generally go down to greet them. But
if it were an unknown caller, we reasoned that anyone
who really had a need to see us would know enough
to call first–or contact Campus Safety and have them
alert the House. It is likely that many callers went away
disappointed or frustrated. But in these days of public
risk, it was only prudent to be safe.
Because we did not answer the door in the evening,
and because most of the lights on the ground floor were
dark–unless we were entertaining–a myth developed
that the President didn’t really live in the house at 815
South University. In fact, one of the first questions we
would inevitably be asked when meeting with students
would always be “Do you really live in the President’s
House?” “Yes, Virginia, we do indeed. After all, as
‘Mom and Dad’ of the campus, we couldn’t very well
leave 35,000 students all alone at night, now, could
we?” ...
During the daytime we were a bit more venturesome
in answering the door, since we were usually on the
ground floor working. We could also see more easily

79
who was at the door. Yet, here too, we had surprises.
Every once in awhile a student would ring the
doorbell to ask if he of she could tour the house. In fact,
one year the Michigan Daily published a short article
saying it had been a long tradition that the President
and First Lady would be happy to give any student
a personal tour. All a student had to do was ring the
doorbell...
From time to time alumni attending various
reunions would show up at the house. Sometimes it
was to remember a tea they had attended there during
their undergraduate years. On other occasions, they
just wanted to visit the house they had never managed
to see when they were students. They were always very
nice, but we rarely had the opportunity to do more than
greet them and explain the situation.
The President’s House also attracted its share of
the curious. For example, one afternoon a polite man
appeared at the side door to ask whether we had ever
thought about listing the house for sale. He was from
out-of-town, and while he was driving through he
noticed the house and was interested in buying it. While
we were at first tempted–it had not been a good week–
we instead graciously explained that, no, it is indeed
owned by the people of the State of Michigan, and we
did not think the University would be interested in
parting with it.
Of course, there were some more delicate situations.
One afternoon in the spring we found a young woman
who had handcuffed herself to the ironwork on the
front porch in order to protest the grade she had
received in a class. Although it was a delightful, warm
spring day, we were a bit nervous by this highly visible
protest, because it was Commencement weekend.
Anne made certain she was comfortable, and then had
some University counselors see if they could put her
at ease. Eventually, Public Safety officers sawed off her
handcuffs. But, a short time later, she appeared with
her small child across the street, to continue the protest.
After a few hours she eventually left.
While protesting students rarely targeted the house
directly, there were occasions when demonstrations
against one tyranny or another would show up on
the doorstep. Since many of the protest marches were
down South University, right in front of the house, it
was common for groups to stop to give the President

The President’s House Team (from left to right):
Carole LaMantia, Judy Dineson, Anne, Joan Kobrinski,
Barbara Johnson, Jim, Inge Roncoli, Rose Abercrombe,
Kurt Szalay
a few blasts as well. Perhaps the most annoying such
incident occurred during the protests over establishing
a campus police and a student disciplinary policy.
Chanting “No cops, no code, no guns!”, several hundred
students marched up to the front porch, installed a
podium, complete with sound system, and then began
a series of speeches about how the president was
trampling all over the student body. As was typical in
such newsworthy events, television camera crews from
the Detroit stations set up shop right across the street
from the house so that they could film every fascinating
minute. Then, the students decided to demonstrate
their anguish by symbolically “burying” students’
rights on the front yard, digging up graves, and placing
crosses. (The next day the Grounds Department came
to the rescue and repaired the sod.)
Finally, as night approached, about one hundred
students set up tents on the lawn and spent the night.
Needless to say, this was one of those times when we
were delighted to have the refuge of our personal home
in Ann Arbor. In fact, the only people that were in the
President’s House during this fascinating series of
events were two campus safety officers, to make certain
the house was protected.
On a more jovial note, the house sometimes became
the focal point of the celebrations following cosmic
athletic events. For example, when Michigan kicked
a last second field goal to beat Notre Dame down at
South Bend, there was an explosion of thousands of

80

The president and spouse as hired help: organizing events, preparing meals,
cleaning up, refinishing furniture, baking the presidential pies–whatever it takes.

81

Burying student rights in our front yard!

Bouncing the Prez after a victory over Notre Dame.

undergraduate students out of the dormitories and into
the streets to celebrate. This surging mass of singing
humanity first worked its way down South University
to the commercial area–where the bars were located.
But since most of these students were underage, there
wasn’t anything to do there, so they surged back and
massed in front of the President’s House. When we
went out to greet them, several grabbed me in their joy
and began to bounce me around on top of the crowd,
much like “passing students up” in Michigan Stadium.
A bit scary, but understandable.
On other occasions of similar out-of-town athletic
victories–winning the NCAA Hockey Championship
or making the NCAA Basketball Final Four, thousands
of students would show up in front of the house.
Sometimes they would chant with great respect and
awe for the presidency, “Come on out! We know you’re
in there, Dude!” And, while perhaps it was not the most
distinguished way to respond, going out and leading
them in a chorus of “The Victors” seemed the thing to
do.
This is reminiscent of a story of far earlier times
concerning President Harlan Hatcher–told by both
President Hatcher and a former Regent, Tom Roach,
who was one of the students involved. The situation
occurred just prior to exam week, during the 1950s,
when a large group of male students decided to
take an evening study break by staging a raid on the
women’s dorms to steal underwear. Yes, indeed, this
was another Michigan first–the first “panty raid”. After
their successful raid, a large crowd gathered on the

lawn of the President’s House to show him their spoils.
President Hatcher, in his robe, opened the door, went
out onto the porch to greet the crowd, and said in a
loud, distinguished voice: “Men, it is late, and I believe
you should return to your dorms and go to bed!” And
they did. (Ah, times were so different back then...)
Fortunately, we decided early in the presidency to
keep our own house as a refuge for those times when
we needed an escape from the headaches of living in
the President’s House. We not only kept our house fully
furnished and operational, but we actually maintained
it as our official residence (for mail delivery and such)
throughout our tenure in the presidency. The peace
and quiet and simplicity of our old home was very
reassuring—and only ten minutes away.

The Plant Department
As first family, we had the opportunity to meet
a great many wonderful people working for the
University. However, the one group that we developed
a particular respect and fondness for were those folks,
who like us, helped take care of the President’s House.
This was not an easy task. The age of the house,
coupled with the fact that it had evolved over the years
into something far beyond its original design, meant
that it continually surprised its residents. Rare was the
month when some element of the complex heating and
cooling system didn’t break down, despite the fact that
Plant Department staff checked the systems on a regular
basis. And, one could depend that on the coldest day

82

Joan Kobinski

Rose, Inge, Joan, and students

of the year the heating system would malfunction, just
as would the cooling system on the hottest day of the
summer. Once I remember going into the bathroom
adjacent to the rear study on a cold winter day and
finding that the sink had frozen over with ice.
But there were other surprises. One day in the
winter, just before we were to take an extended trip,
I went down into the basement early one morning to
exercise and found about a foot of water covering the
floor. Upon further inspection, I found a flood of water
gushing down the rear stairway to the outside from a
broken irrigation pipe. Fortunately I had caught the
problem within an hour or so after the pipe had broken.
But, had we left on the trip before finding the break, the
entire basement would have flooded.
But we were used to floods in the President’s House.
Once a leaking pipe required tearing out most of the
pantry wall. Another time, misplaced lawn sprinklers
flooded the music room, although sparing the piano.
But, on each occasion, the Plant people–Bill, the
plumber; Bob, the painter; Louie, the alarm man; Craig
and Mark, the HVAC team; Steve, the computer guy;
even Rosemary, the bug lady (...the exterminator...)–
appeared promptly on the scene and handled
the problem. Indeed, they took as much pride in
maintaining the house as we did, and Anne developed
a warm friendship with them.
One of the most dedicated, talented, and creative
teams was the gardening staff led by horticulturist,
Chuck Jenkins, Joan Kobrinski, Rose Abercrombe, and a

group of talented women students. Although the house
was in the center of the campus, it did have relatively
extensive grounds. And because it was so visible, the
maintenance of its grounds and gardens was important
to the University.
We encountered a situation with the house grounds
very similar to the renovation of the House itself during
the interregnum between presidents. The Grounds
Department developed an elaborate plan for the
grounds–Italianesque gardens, a gazebo, walkways–
all very elegant, and all VERY expensive. Fortunately,
Anne caught this before they moved ahead with it. Not
only was it quite inconsistent with our approach to
the house–just as the original renovation plans of the
University interior design staff had been–but it would
have exposed us to great criticism. Indeed, university
presidencies have been toppled because of excessive
expenditures on the president’s house.
Instead, Anne asked the very talented team of
Inglis House gardeners, under the direction of Joan
Kobrinski, to come up with an alternative plan that
would be more consistent both with our own tastes
and modest expenditure limits. The gardeners came up
with a wonderful plan, at a very modest cost (...almost
nothing...). Later, this same team rebuilt the elaborate
English gardens on the Inglis House estate, again at
almost no additional cost.
In summary, we always had wonderful experiences
in working with the University staff who were
responsible for maintaining the President’s House and

83
Inglis House. Perhaps our only frustration was with the
layers of bureaucracy and management that sometimes
smothered the best intentions of the tradespeople.
On many occasions the house would suddenly be
surrounded by a dozen cars and trucks and supervisors,
usually to inspect a rather minor problem. We had to
be particularly careful that such minor repair problems
didn’t mushroom into gigantic construction projects–
and costs–because of the well-intentioned but overzealous efforts of staff. Some examples illustrate.
When Anne was interested in reactivating the ornate
water fountain at Inglis House, she was first told that
this would necessitate a several thousand-dollar project
to dig up the fountain and replace the plumbing. She felt
it best to defer this expenditure. Fortunately, later Joan
Kobrinski found that a 5-cent washer accomplished the
same task.
The relatively simple-sounding task of repairing
some of the stucco and then repainting the exterior of
the President’s House threatened to mushroom into a
$300,000 summer long saga. Not a good thing. This one
we deferred to the next presidential transition.
The heating for the President’s House, like for
most of the central campus buildings, was provided
by steam directly from the University power plant.
The pipes carrying this steam crisscrossed the campus
in an elaborate network of tunnels, connecting every
building. These tunnels, decades old, were sometimes
the focus of student hijinks, since they were large
enough to accommodate people. Years earlier, the steam
tunnel to the President’s House had been sealed off
with an iron grate for just this reason. However, during
our last years in the presidency, we were told that the
steam tunnel running to the rear of the President’s
House was about to collapse, and that since it was
lined with asbestos, it would be better to construct a
new tunnel from the street and rebuild the piping in the
basement of the house. Yet another major expenditure
that required not only digging up the front yard of the
house, but taking the basement out of commission for
two months. Not surprisingly, this was another project
left for the next president...

Anne and Jim and the Three Bears...
Although the President’s House has evolved over

The “real” President’s House
the decades into an elegant public space suitable for the
many formal events associated with the presidency, it
is also the home of the president’s family. Each family
has added its own special touches to make the house
their home.
As noted earlier, we lived in the President’s House
alone, without regular staff, we provided for ourselves
much as we had in our “real home” in Ann Arbor. We
shopped for our own groceries, cooked our own meals,
cleaned our own quarters...and furthermore, spent a
good deal of personal time and energy maintaining the
President’s House itself.
One of the wisest decisions we made early in
our presidency was to maintain our own house in
south Ann Arbor just as it was prior to moving to the
President’s House. After all, we had lived in this house
for almost 20 years. We had raised our daughters there.
And although small and cozy–it was less than oneseventh the size of the President’s House–it was just
right for us. Hence, we decided to continue to keep the
house fully operational, even as we moved from it to
the President’s House. We kept it fully furnished. We
maintained our personal mail delivery to the house
and picked it up every day. We contracted for yard
and snow maintenance and installed a sophisticated
security system.
As a result, our old house was warm and waiting
as a refuge, whenever we wanted–or needed–to
escape from the President’s House. This proved to be
a godsend. Whenever we needed to get away from the
stress of the presidency, which was only intensified by

84
living in the “public housing” of the President’s House,
we only needed to hop in our car and drive over to our
old home for a few nights. The peace and quiet and
simplicity of our own little house was very reassuring
and only ten minutes away.
Of course, there were some complications. Since the
private living quarters in the President’s House were
essentially unfurnished, and since we didn’t want
to move the furniture out of our own house, we had
to buy enough furniture so that we could live at 815
University–at personal expense. This meant duplicate
beds, living room furniture, as well as all of the other
essentials of life–televisions, stereo systems, and
such. Later this duplication was to prove a particular
challenge when we left the presidency–and left behind
the challenge of maintaining two houses.
But there were also other complications. Since we
spent most of our time in the President’s House, we
rarely had food in our own house. So whenever we
would escape from the President’s House, we first had
to stop by the grocery store–or live on fast food for
awhile. We also had a challenge with clothing. We could
always throw enough clothing together for a weekend
in our own house. However, over time, clothing would
gradually migrate back and forth from the President’s
House to our house, so that soon we became totally
confused about just where the suit or dress someone
needed was located.
But, despite the expense of duplication and the
occasional confusion of finding food and clothes,
maintaining our own residence as an escape was
absolutely essential to our ability to tolerate the public
life of the presidency. It would have been very difficult,
if not impossible, for us to live only in the President’s
House, with no refuge, as did the Shapiros, the
Fleming’s, and many of the other Michigan presidents
who preceded us.
Many other presidents at other universities share
these views. Most believe that the stresses of the modern
presidency are simply too intense today to add the
burden of requiring the president and family to live in
a University house–and therefore be on duty 24 hours
a day, seven days a week. In fact, most universities
are moving away from requiring presidents to live in
a “president’s house”, and instead allowing them to
purchase--and, in some cases, actually helping them

to finance–their own home, a short distance from the
campus. This gives the president’s family some measure
of privacy. It also allows them to maintain equity in the
rapidly inflating real estate marketplace.
But there is one more reason for moving the
president off campus. From time to time, the Internal
Revenue Service has attempted to claim that living in a
University-provided residence is a taxable benefit. For
a number of years, universities have depended upon
an earlier ruling that if living in the residence was a
requirement of the position–as explicitly stated in the
appointment letter of the president as necessary to the
performance of his or her role–it was not considered
taxable. However, in recent years, the IRS has been
conducting both institutional and personal audits on
several university campuses that are raising this issue
once again. Since the personal financial exposure to the
president would be staggering if the earlier ruling were
reversed–imagine the estimated rent on a 14,000 square
foot mansion--it seems most prudent to abandon the
presidential residence. And most universities and
presidents are rapidly doing so.
But during our tenure, we were still required to
make the President’s House our home, and so we did.
We moved over many of our personal things–clothes,
books, knick-knacks, and such. And we added another
personal Duderstadt touch by scattering a variety of
stuffed animals at strategic points about the President’s
House, including three very large, stuffed bears.
This family tradition requires some explanation.
Unlike most other families, we had never had pets in the
house. Although I had been raised in a house filled with
dogs and cats, I had developed serious allergies.. Hence,
instead of real animals, we always had lots of stuffed
animals scattered about the house. In fact, it became
almost a family joke that each birthday or Christmas,
Anne and I would buy one another outlandish stuffed
animals–a menagerie that grew larger and larger
with each passing year. Since these were a part of our
environment, we invited many of these stuffed beasts
to move with us over to the President’s House.
The king of the jungle of stuffed animals was a
gigantic teddy bear–Theodore Sebastian Eli Aloysius
AKA “Big Al”. Al had appeared on the scene many
years earlier–in fact, long before I descended into
academic administration. Passing by the Middle Earth

85

Big Al suddenly appears.

The Three Bears of the President’s House

gift shop one holiday season, I noticed in the window a
gigantic stuffed bear advertising those funky bear claw
slippers that used to be popular. But I also noticed a
“for sale” sign on the bear. So, in one of those fateful
moments of inspiration, I decided to provide a new
warm home for the lonesome looking bear. The store
was sorry to see the bear go, but they helped me load
him in my Volkswagen–I had to poke his head through
the sunroof–and off we went.
Since that time, Al has always been an important part
of the family. He was a bear of many talents. But Al was
lonely in such a big, old house. So it was only logical
that one Christmas, a second bear would appear–even
a bigger bear–but this one was female–Victoria. Finally,
a year later, a third large bear appeared–Edward. So, for
much of the Duderstadt presidency, these three, large
stuffed bears held court back in the study. At Christmas
receptions, they would frequently greet the University
campus. During one Christmas holiday, when there
had been a power outage, who should the University
electricians prowling through the dark house encounter
but three large bears, sitting there quietly there in the
dark.

facility.
When we finally moved out of the President’s
House on July 1, 1996, we made certain that it was left
in spotless condition for the next president. Despite
the inevitable repair projects that would continue, we
were confident that we had left the President’s House
in perhaps the finest condition of its long history (just
as we hoped we had left the university). We personally
took an extensive series of photographs to record the
interior and exterior of the house.
Of course, without someone to watch over the estate,
changes occur. And within a week after we moved
out, the Plant Department had moved a backhoe in,
excavated the entire front yard to install a new steam
tunnel, and torn the basement apart. Fortunately, we
had returned our keys to the President’s House to the
University by that time, and our only memories of the
house are those of the elegant, pristine condition as
we left it. And since we were rarely invited to visit the
house by subsequent presidents, memories would have
to suffice…
Been there...done that...no need to return...

Eight Years of Life at 815 South University
We lived in Ann Arbor’s White House for the eightyear period of our stint in the presidency. And while we
never really felt at home in the house, we did everything
we could to restore and maintain the elegance of the

86

Chapter 7

A Matter of Style
Each presidency is characterized by a distinctive
style that, over time, tends to affect–or infect–the rest of
the institution. The way one approaches the challenge
of leadership, the nature of working relationships
with students, faculty and staff, the spirit of teamwork
among other University leaders, even the character of
events, all contribute to this perception of style.
Since both Anne and I had grown up in a small,
Midwestern farm town, we generally tended to
approach our roles in an informal, unpretentious, and
straight-forward fashion. In fact, we both realized
that we came from essentially peasant stock, and we
viewed ourselves very much as commoners thrust for
a time into the complex and demanding roles of public
leadership.
Of course, we brought our own quirks and patterns
to our roles. I tended to be one of those folks who
always had to have lots of balls in the air, although
from time to time I would drop a few. Perhaps a more
appropriate circus metaphor for my management style
was the performer who started a whole series of plates
spinning on a table, jumping quickly from plate to plate,
just to keep them spinning together. I would launch a
series of activities, assigning the responsibility for each
to a member of my leadership team. For example, I
might initiate a project to secure capital outlay funding
from state government or an effort to better integrate
academic learning with student housing or a scheme
to go after a major federal research laboratory. Once
launched, I would generally move ahead to another
activity, only checking back from time to time to see
how things were going. I rarely strove for perfection in
any particular venture. Rather I felt that, at least for a
large, diverse, and complex institution like Michigan
with tremendous faculty and staff, it was better to keep
lots of things going on than to focus on any one agenda.
Anne, on the other hand, planned her projects very

carefully, taking on only a few matters at a time, and was
not satisfied until they had met her standards. Whether
it was a major renovation project such as the President’s
House or Inglis House, or a major University event, or
the documents and websites she created to portray the
University’s history, Anne’s standards were very high.
And just as my spinning plate style kept the University
in high gear, the quality Anne achieved in her projects
had a major impact on the standards for activities across
the campus.

The Leadership Style
We both realized how important it was both to
acknowledge and build upon the accomplishments
of our predecessors. Compared to other universities,
Michigan had had relatively few presidents–11 over its
150 years. Each Michigan president seems to have filled
a particular leadership role for the University, perhaps
less because of how they were selected than the degree
to which the institution and its needs shaped their
presidency:
Henry P. Tappan (the founder), the visionary,
providing strong leadership to establish Michigan as
one of the nation’s first research universities. Of course,
Tappan was also the first and last UM president to be
dismissed by the Board of Regents, demonstrating the
hazards of being ahead of one’s time...
Erastus O. Haven (the stabilizer), who calmed the
University community and largely carried out policies
of Tappan.
Henry Frieze (the great teacher) who served twice
as interim president and created the secondary school
system of America.
James B. Angell (the dynasty), who built Michigan
into a truly national university. The longest serving

87
president (38 years), he presided over enormous growth
and set the course of the university by proclaiming its
mission as that of providing “an uncommon education
for the common man”. He also insisted that a water
closet be installed in the President’s House and started
intercollegiate athletics at Michigan.
Harry B. Hutchins (a scholarly lawyer), who
consolidated progress made during the Angell years
and created the University’s alumni organizations
Marion L. Burton (the builder), who oversaw the
largest expansion of the physical plant in UM’s early
history, building much of the Central Campus as it
exists today.
Clarence C. Little (the martyr), innovative, energetic...
and controversial...who pushed important initiatives
such as the University College. His tenure was short, not
for lack of vision, but rather because of his controversial
stands on social issues such as prohibition.
Alexander G. Ruthven (the general), a leader during
the crisis years, the Great Depression and WWII.
Ruthven created the “corporate” University, with an
administrative structure that remains to this day.
Harlan Hatcher (the emperor) led a period of the
most dramatic and sustained growth of the University,
with enrollments doubling and new campuses added
(North Campus, Flint, Dearborn).
Robben W. Fleming (the mediator), a consensus
builder and skillful conciliator, who maintained the
University’s strength and autonomy during a decade
of unrest.
Harold T. Shapiro (the navigator) who piloted the
University through perilous economic times while
raising the bar for the quality of its academic programs.
Which of these earlier presidents most resembled our
administration? There are many in the University who
probably regard me as the barbarian from the North
(campus, that is), an engineer. (Although, in reality I
was a “Yale engineer”, which is a bit of an oxymoron!)
To be sure, I was a builder, like Burton, leading a
successful $2 billion construction effort to rebuild all of
the University’s campuses. While bricks and mortar do
not make a great university, it was difficult to conduct
high quality teaching and scholarship in the dismal
facilities that housed many of Michigan’s programs
prior to my presidency.

Some on the faculty regarded me as a corporate
type, a CEO, who completed Harold Shapiro’s effort
to financially restructure the University. The success
of the $1.4 billion Campaign for Michigan, increasing
endowment from $200 million to $2.0 billion, fighting
the political battles to build Michigan’s tuition base
to compensate for the loss of state support, providing
the environment and incentives to make Michigan the
nation’s leading research university, reducing costs
through efforts such as M-Quality and Responsibility
Center Management–all were components of this
effort to become a “privately-supported, but publicly
committed university”. And all would have been
important accomplishments, regardless of whether an
engineer or a humanist was president.
It was certainly true that I was a driver, with a
relentless commitment to completing the ascension on
academic quality launched during the Shapiro years.
Yet, by the end of our years in the presidency, the
quality and impact of the University, when considered
across all of the University’s academic disciplines and
professional programs, clearly ranked Michigan among
the most distinguished universities in the world. Like
Shapiro, my academic roots were with institutions
committed to the highest academic standards–Yale and
Caltech–and I was determined that Michigan should
strive for similar quality. In fact, during my tenure, the
University became the nation’s leader in the magnitude
of its research funding. Furthermore, in a 1998 ranking
of “highest impact” research universities, based on a
survey that measures importance rather than volume
of research activity, the University of Michigan ranked
fifth behind Harvard, Stanford, Caltech, and Yale, and
ahead of MIT and UC-Berkeley.
It was probably not surprising that a scientist as
president would develop, articulate, and achieve a
strategic vision for the University that would provide
it with great financial strength, rebuild its campus,
and position it as the leading research university in the
nation. But many were surprised by a deep commitment
to diversifying the University through initiatives such
as the Michigan Mandate, the Michigan Agenda for
Women, and the revision of Bylaw 14.06 to prevent
discrimination based upon sexual orientation. Further,
the broad effort to improve undergraduate education
and campus life were far beyond what one might have

88

Anne Duderstadt in her many roles as a university first lady: arranging events,
managing caterers, greeting guests, and even cheering on the football team.
expected from one who had spent his academic career
in graduate education and research.
However, if I were to choose my own descriptor to
characterize my tenure, it would be that of a visionary,
providing leadership during a time of change. In a
sense, I aimed at serving as both a prophet and a force
for change, recognizing that to serve a rapidly changing
world, the University itself would have to change
dramatically.

Advancing the Institution
Anne faced a formidable challenge when she was
thrust into the role as First Lady, responsible, in effect,
for the myriad events, facilities, and staff associated with
the president’s role in institutional development. She
inherited an important legacy from the contributions of

early first ladies of the university. Each had brought to
the University a unique style, but all had been totally
committed to this important role.
However, because of the long interim period
between the Shapiro and Duderstadt presidencies,
presidential events and activities had been largely on
automatic pilot, assigned to staff but without strong
supervision or standards. As a result Anne had to
rebuild the capacity of the University to support the
quality necessary for supporting major initiatives such
as the Campaign for Michigan, and to do so with a close
eye to cost-effectiveness.
An earlier chapter discussed how Anne took over
the project to renovate the President’s House, not only
restoring its elegance but also reducing significantly
its operating costs. She sought these same objectives–
excellence and efficiency–in a broad range of other

89

Hosting guests at the President’s House: faculty groups, athletic teams,
distinguished visitors, governors, presidents, and even a god (the Dalai Lama)

90

The annual Christmas reception at the Clements Library, with many University leaders including Robben and
Sally Fleming, Harlan and Ann Hatcher, Deans John D’Arms , Peter Steiner, Joe Johnson, Chuck Vest, Bob Warner,
and Marge Levy, and other leaders such as Doug Van Houweling, Paul Spradlin, Bob Kalmbach, and family members including Kathy, Susan, and Big Al...

91
projects: presidential events, Inglis House, football
weekends, bowl events, fund-raising, etc.
Anne actually began many of these efforts while
I was in the provost role. She launched a broad array
of events to draw together the University community:
a monthly series of faculty dinners at Inglis House,
receptions for honor students, student-athletes, and
student leaders; dinners for groups such as the deans,
athletic coaches, and women’s groups. Through these
efforts she had developed considerable experience in
designing, organizing, and conducting events, but she
also had an intimate knowledge both of University
facilities and staff. She also had developed a keen sense
of just what one could accomplish in terms of quality
and efficiency.

The Inglis Highlands Estate
The Inglis Highlands estate had been given to the
University in the 1950s, originally for the purpose of
serving as the president’s residence. But, since most
presidents continued the tradition of living at 815 South
University, the estate was used as a guesthouse for
distinguished visitors and important events.
The estate comprises eight and one-half acres
north of Geddes Avenue adjacent to the University
Arboretum. The house, built in the style of an English
country mansion, was constructed in 1927. The ground
floor of the House consists of the principal entryway, a
large library, restrooms, and service facilities. The first
floor contains a combination living and dining room,
kitchen, pantry, breakfast room, and a three-car garage.
The master bedroom, two guestrooms, and maids’
quarters are on the second floor; and on the third floor
is a two-bedroom suite. The property also includes
a caretaker’s cottage, a greenhouse workshop, and
extensive English gardens.
Although the manor house and grounds were
regarded as one of the most elegant estates in
Michigan, over many years of University use with
inadequate funding, the facility had deteriorated quite
significantly. The furnishings had become dilapidated,
and the carpets threadbare. (In fact, the house had been
carpeted with leftovers from the Holiday Inn company,
courtesy of one of the regents.)
During a routine inspection of the facility in 1989,

staff determined that the slate roof of the house was
near collapse. When the University decided to launch
a $300,000 project to replace the roof, Anne suggested
that they add into the budget another $200,000 to
renovate the interior, in the hopes that the house could
be used more frequently. When the Regents approved
the project, Anne began work with the same team that
had helped renovate the president’s house.
Once again, the aim was to return the manor house
to its original grandeur, with beautiful oak floors, wood
paneling, and tiles. Since it was important to convey a
sense of the history of the estate, Anne collected and
displayed photographs of the original owners, the
James Inglis family, in the public areas of the house.
A parallel project was launched with Joan Kobrinski
and the gardening staff (mostly students) to rebuild
the formal English gardens and other landscaping on
the 8-acre estate. Although the personal effort was
considerable, Joan Kobrinsky and her team were able
to bring the project in, under budget, and with a quality
standard that remains exceptional to this day.
In fact, after a weekend at the estate, Mike and
Mary Wallace wondered if Anne might be interested
in consulting with some of their friends in New York
facing similar renovation challenges. (Anne declined,
noting that two mansion renovations were enough for
one life...)
Anne became involved in a number of other such
projects. When the decision was made to build an
enlarged hospitality area and renovate the president’s
box in the Michigan Stadium pressbox, she worked
closely with Athletic Director Jack Weidenbach to
make certain that these areas were appropriate for a
broad array of institutional advancement activities.
Working with the Bentley Historical Library, a major
photographic montage on the history of Michigan
football and Michigan Stadium was developed and
displayed in the pressbox entertainment area. Since
the tailgates were such an important part of football
weekend, Anne worked with Jack Weidenbach to
renovate areas of the Michigan Golf Course Clubhouse
so that it could be used for these football events.

92

James and Elizabeth Inglis, with their children, Jim and Betty, and their estate, The Highlands

93

Inglis House in the 1950s, 1970s and 1990s after the renovation

94

Inglis House in the 1970s/1980s and 1990s after the renovation

95

Inglis House in the 1970s/1980s and 1990s after the renovation

96

The Inglis Highlands Gardens 1990s

97

The Inglis Highlands Gardens 1990s

98

A well-deserved thank you!

99

Chapter 8

A Turn about the University Calendar
University life revolves around the calendar,
changing with the seasons. After the hot, humid
doldrums of a Midwestern summer, excitement begins
to build in late August as students begin to return. The
fall is a time of renewal, as new students and faculty
arrive on campus bringing the excitement of new
beginnings. The energy and activity level are high with
community celebrations such as football weekends,
alumni reunions, Homecoming, and fall traditions such
as apple picking and trips to the local cider mills.
Winter brings the clouds, the cold, and the rain and
snow–the phrase “good, gray Michigan” is an apt one.
The focus is on more serious matters: classes, research,
politics, and, at least at Michigan, dissent. Yet there are
also basketball, hockey, and a number of other indoor
sports. And, on not infrequent occasions, the joy of a
holiday season concluding in the warm sunshine of a
Rose Bowl. There are also hundreds of performances by
the students and faculty of the School of Music, Theatre
and Dance, as well as concerts and other cultural events
sponsored by the University Musical Society.
In contrast to the rest of society, the university
approaches spring with mixed enthusiasm. Certainly,
the end of winter and the transition from gray slush
to green growth is welcome. Yet, spring also signals
the approaching end of the academic calendar,
commencement, and the departure of students and
faculty. Academic administrators turn to the serious
business of budgets and state politics.
Summer is a strange time on university campuses,
with most students and faculty gone, many campus
facilities closed, and campus life in a dormant state.

Fall: A Time of Beginning
A hot summer day in late August. Still air under

Welcoming new students with Good Humor
the wide, timeless branches of the tree canopy shading
the University of Michigan Diag. A moment of quiet,
before Ann Arbor begins to fill once again with
returning students and faculty for the fall term. The
only premonition of impending change, the muffled
thunder of an approaching summer storm.
As Labor Day approaches, streets become crowded,
parking disappears, and one of the most traumatic
moments in a college education begins: “The Great
Dropoff.” Parents bring their young students to the
University, moving them into residence halls and away
from home for the first time. I always made it a point
to address the parents of new students, to reassure
them that their sons and daughters were academically
very talented and would be carefully nurtured by
the University. Both Anne and I would participate in
welcoming activities such as hosting a Good-Humor ice
cream wagon in front of the dorms for excited students
and tired parents moving in, a freshman convocation
to convey a few words of advice to new students–
usually ignored, of course–and an array of welcoming

100

Through the seasons: fall, winter, spring, summer…

101

Recreation during away football games

Fall kickoff potluck for deans and EOs

events for new graduate students and new faculty. I
used to tell the parents that there was only one college
event more traumatic than the Great Dropoff. It was
that moment, following commencement, when just
as parents swell with pride, their graduating student
happens to mention their intent to move back home
until deciding what to do next.
Universities are places where tradition is important,
and there are always many traditions during the
beginning of a new academic year. In our roles as
dean and provost, we had long been accustomed to
hosting a fall kick-off event to get the new academic
year underway. Anne had been particularly creative in
designing novel ways and interesting venues to get the
new academic year off to a good start–a dinner hosted
on the stage of the MacIntosh Theater at the School of
Music, a new facility in the College of Engineering,
the Museum of Art, and the new Chemistry building.
Now, in our presidential role, we felt such events were
extremely important to build the necessary spirit of
teamwork among deans and executive officers. We
started the tradition of a fall kickoff potluck in the Inglis
House gardens.
I used this as the opportunity to demonstrate a rare
culinary talent: baking apple pies. Each year I would
spend the Saturday before the Sunday kickoff event
baking pies, usually during an out-of-town football
game. Since Michigan is famous for its apple orchards,
a quick trip to the Ann Arbor Farmers’ Market early in
the morning provided the necessary ingredients, and I
would spent the rest of the day making and baking pies

(while, according to Anne, the kitchen was demolished).
In later years, I was challenged to pie-baking contests
by the mayor of Ann Arbor, Ingrid Shelton. Finally I
was persuaded to share my secret recipe for a Faculty
Women’s Club cookbook (see Appendix to this chapter).
The spectacle of college football is a celebration
of the joys of fall. In a sense, a football weekend has
become an American holiday for its participants. It
provides an excuse to join with others (thousands of
others) in the enjoyment of fall color and weather. In a
sense, a football Saturday is a community experience,
drawing tens of thousands together in a festival that
seems more designed to celebrate the wonders of a
fall weekend than the game itself. In fact, while most
of those attending the game probably draw some
excitement from the game, most are probably not fans,
at least in the intense sense which one finds in sports
like basketball and hockey. Some come to enjoy the
spectacle, the tailgates, the bands, and the crowds.
Some have a more social interest in seeing friends. Still
others are there simply because it is the thing to do on
a fall weekend. After all, how else can they participate
in conversations later in the week if they have missed
the game?
Fall was always a very busy time at Michigan. In
part this was because of the unusual nature of the
academic calendar, which attempts to schedule a
complete academic term between Labor Day and the
Christmas holidays. But it also had to do with the
very many events that were always scheduled for
university presidents at this time. Beyond the usual

102
array of on campus receptions, dinners, speeches, and
meetings, many of the national organizations such as
the American Association of Universities (AAU), the
National Association of State Universities and Land
Grant Colleges (NASULGC), the Big Ten Conference,
and the Michigan Presidents’ Council would all hold
multiday meetings during the fall. In fact, during our
second year in the presidency, we faced the challenge
of hosting the fall AAU meeting of the presidents of the
nation’s top 60 universities at Michigan. (These events
were scheduled far in advance, and since the Shapiros
had committed to this years earlier, even though
we were relatively new to the presidency, we were
obligated to host the event.) Fortunately the weather
was perfect–crisp and clear, with blue skies and bright
fall colors.
Several weeks later, the University hosted the
annual meeting of EDUCOM, the primary organization
for computing in higher education. Hundreds of
faculty members, corporate leaders, and technologists
descended on the campus, and were treated to a more
typical Michigan weather experience–rain, sleet, snow,
and ice. Each of the major computer corporations took
over a University facility for a large reception, which
created a three-ring circus character on the campus.
Ironically enough, during the first day of the conference,
there was a major earthquake in San Francisco, and the
University offered the use of its computer networks to
the 700 participants from Northern California so that
they could communicate with their families.
Everything was always too busy in the fall,
particularly for the President’s Office. Activities that
had been suspended for the summer would come alive
once again, demanding time and attention. No matter
how much time one spent getting ready for the new
term, it never seemed enough to cope with the demands
and the challenges. Although it usually took several
weeks for the first crisis to develop, sometimes it was
earlier. Perhaps the end-game of the summer budget
process in Lansing would have gone amiss, requiring
days of follow-up effort with state government to
repair the damage through last-minute negotiations.
Sometimes Washington would spring a new surprise
on the University–a new scheme for cutting the amount
of research grant support or a Congressional inquiry.
With new students came new issues that could rapidly

dominate the agenda for campus activism. Even the
Regents would occasionally pitch in, returning to their
first meeting after the August recess with new demands
or accusations, particularly in an election year when
positions on the board were at stake.
Even with all of the activity, fall was a good time at
the University. Michigan falls are glorious, with bright
blue skies, the color of the turning leaves and moderate
temperatures. There was always a sense of optimism,
the excitement of returning students and faculty, the
hope of a winning football season (since Michigan
always did well during its early non-conference season),
the enthusiasm of returning alumni and friends.
However, as the skies turned gray and the leaves
disappeared, more serious matters began to take hold.
Student activists would have defined their agendas and
developed their strategies, and campus demonstrations
would begin. One could always depend on a crisis
developing in one academic unit or another–a faculty
revolt against a dean, the raid of an outstanding scholar
by a competing university, a serious budget problem.
The local newspapers would run out of national or
regional news to report, and turn their attention to
stirring up controversy about (or within) the University.
And, perhaps most demoralizing of all, the football
team would sometimes be upset by Michigan State or
Northwestern.
Perhaps one of the most traumatizing annual events
was my birthday, occurring right after Thanksgiving,
known by most of the University community, and
generally celebrated with an office surprise party
(particularly on the completion of my 50th orbit about
the sun):
Anne faced a somewhat more awkward birthday
situation. Since her birthday fell on January 2, it usually
had to be celebrated at a bowl event. In fact, on two
occasions, the Rose Bowl was actually played on her
birthday. In celebration of her 50th birthday–and
Michigan’s win over Washington–the team gave her an
autographed game ball, which became one of her most
treasured birthday presents.

The Holiday Season
By the time the Christmas holidays approached, like
many other members of the central administration, we

103

A 50th birthday surprise...from the Energizer Bunny

Anne’s 50th Birthday gift: a Rose Bowl football!

were ready to collapse. Yet, even during the holiday
season, we still had little respite. From Thanksgiving to
Christmas was the season of holiday events. Anne was
always particularly busy, since she was responsible for
a host of activities associated with the holiday season.
She first had to decorate both the President’s House
and Inglis House for the countless events scheduled for
the month of December:
Here Anne had to steer a careful course between
creating an appropriate spirit of the season–and yet not
having “the season” labeled as any particular religious
experience. She was finally reduced to explaining that
trees and wreaths were, in reality, pagan symbols of
the winter solstice from prehistoric times (although my
electric train under the tree in the President’s House
was a pagan rite of more recent origin).
As First Lady, she was also responsible for designing
and hosting an array of events, from large receptions
for groups such as the Faculty Women’s Club or the
University administration, to more intimate dinners
for the Regents, the Executive Officers, the Deans, and
other University guests.
The last event hosted by us each holiday season
would be a dinner at the President’s House for the
Executive Officers, who, like us, were exhausted and
in desperate need of both TLC and R&R. Fortunately,
Santa always appeared at these events bearing presents
for each of the executive officers and their spouses,
although for some strange reason, the President was
never at the table when Santa appeared.
I also suffered from overload during this period.

December was crammed with an array of standing
commitments such as the Big Ten Conference meetings
in Chicago or National Science Board meetings in
Washington or key fund-raising activities. And, when
Christmas finally did arrive, and we would get to spend
time with our family, it would always be short-lived,
because the day after Christmas we usually had to take
down the Christmas tree, pack our bags, and lead the
Michigan expedition to a football bowl game.

Winter: Good, Gray Michigan
Winters in Michigan can be rugged. Temperatures
drop below freezing by Thanksgiving and rarely
surpasses this threshold again until March. Storms
sweeping across the Great Lakes can be ferocious. But
more typically, a Michigan winter is wet and overcast.
The phrase “good, gray Michigan” is apt. It is just the
kind of season when one wants to stay home, and
curled up in front of a warm fire with a good book.
One could depend on at least one giant snowstorm,
20 inches or more, each year. In fact, we used to attach
these memories to other cosmic events. For example,
the snow began to fall in 1973 the Sunday after the
famous UM-Ohio State tie. As we were watching the
weather bulletins that afternoon, predicting more and
more snow, there was an even more alarming bulletin:
the Big Ten athletic directors had voted to send Ohio
State to the Rose Bowl rather than Michigan, with the
tie vote being broken by Michigan State.
However, the real impact of winter on life at the

104

The President’s House, decked out for the Holiday Season
University set in when students and faculty returned
after New Years. Since Michigan is high in latitude and
on the western edge of the Eastern Time Zones, days
were not only very short but also darkness would fall
in mid-afternoon. Although Michigan’s proximity to
the Great Lakes prevented long periods of sub-zero
weather, it was usually wet and the skies were always
overcast. Winter sports provided some distraction,
but trudging through the snow to a basketball game
or hockey match on a bitterly cold night was still a
challenge.
Not surprisingly, after a few weeks, there would
be the first signs of cabin fever–or perhaps sunlightdeficiency syndrome. People would become more
irritable. Complaints would increase. The newspapers

would become more hostile. And much of this would
eventually find its way to the Office of the President.
One could be certain that February and March would
also be the peak times for student activism. Usually
it took several weeks for campus politics to regain
momentum after the holidays. But by February, protest
leaders would have created a fever pitch in concerns–
although, of course, the issues would change every
year. This would generally peak during the February
Regents meeting, since this usually provided the
opportunity for maximum public visibility. Fortunately,
the week of spring break would follow in early March.
But after break, even though the weather was not as
bitterly cold, Michigan remained in winter’s grip, the
campus remained irritable, and protest movements

105
could be easily re-ignited.
There were usually several distractions that kept
such politics from coalescing into a crescendo. First, if
the basketball or hockey team was nationally ranked,
then students could look forward to the NCAA
tournaments, March Madness and the Frozen Four.
Second, Michigan’s unusually short Winter Term left
very few weeks for building major political movements
before exam period and commencement. In fact, it is
sometimes rumored that the reason the University
shifted in the 1960s to a trimester system in which the
term ends by May 1 is that they wanted to get students
out of town before warm weather, with the potential for
real disruptions. Not a bad idea...
Fortunately, my national and corporate board
activities would sometimes get us into a warmer climate
for a few days during the winter. We would sometimes
get a weekend in Florida or California. However, I was
never more than a pager away, and sometimes I tended
to spend more time in airports than warming up in
vacation resorts. Furthermore, these were sometimes
hectic experiences for me, since my board meetings
frequently lasted from early morning until late at night.

Spring
Spring is a very brief season in Michigan. In late April
the thermometer finally moves above freezing … and
then keeps right on going into the 70s and 80s, so that
by early May summer has arrived. The tulips bloom,
leaves appear on the trees, and students graduate and
leave. All in the space of a few weeks.
Hence, spring memories are few and brief. The
blooming of the peony garden in the Arboretum. Dance
performances and Shakespeare in the gardens. The
May Festival (although after a century of performances,
it was discontinued in the late 1990s). Commencement.
That’s about it.

Summer “Vacation”
For most university faculty members and students,
summer is a welcome break from the hectic pace of
the academic year. Many faculty scatter to the winds,
traveling about the globe, combining scholarly work
and traveling vacations. Even those who stay in Ann

Arbor to work on their research, generally slow their
pace a bit, and try to take a few weeks of pure vacation.
Once, summers were also a time of rest and
relaxation for university presidents. Many had summer
places, to which they would retreat to read, write, and
relax during the summer months. It was also a time
to travel abroad, to fly the University flag in far-flung
locales and be wined and dined by local alumni.
It was hard for us to imagine that such peaceful
summers had ever existed for University presidents.
In the high-paced world of state and federal politics,
summertime in the 1980s and 1990s was the time
when the critical phase of the budget process occurred.
May, June, and July involved nonstop negotiations,
with governors, legislators, and Regents to pin down
University funding and determine how this would
be distributed. During times of limited resources,
this period was particularly stressful. Many were
the long days spent pleading the University’s case in
Lansing for an adequate appropriation or attempting
to persuade contrary regents about the importance of
charging adequate tuition levels to sustain the quality
of the institution. The Detroit-to-Washington shuttle
also became a familiar experience for me as Congress
and the Administration worked their way through
appropriations and authorization bills with major
implications for leading research universities such as
Michigan.
This was an intense effort, involving long hours
and seven-day workweeks. It also required constant
vigilance, since a slight shift in a legislative conference
committee vote or an inane comment to the press by
a maverick Regent could blow the strategy all apart.
As a result, by the time the July Regents’ meeting was
completed, the executive officers were usually on the
verge of collapse and looked forward to the month of
August for a well-deserved break–usually as far away
from Ann Arbor as they could get.
Unfortunately, the same was not true for the
president. Indeed, August was always a traumatic
month, since we were frequently left quite alone in
Ann Arbor to protect the university from the slings and
arrows of outrageous fortune. For example, early in
my presidency the challenge was an ongoing political
struggle to prevent the Governor, James Blanchard,
from eroding the University’s autonomy by attempting

106

Commencement, the important symbol of academic ceremonies, but not an intimate affair at a large university

107

The peony garden in full bloom in the Nichols Arboretum

108

The Arboretum is a wonderful venue for performances.

109
to control its tuition levels. Ironically enough, I had
developed an excellent working relationship with
the Governor early in his administration on a range
of technology-driven economic development issues.
But I also realized that I had to resist the state’s effort
to dictate tuition, since these resources represented
the only real alternative to maintaining the quality
and health of higher education in Michigan during a
time in which state support was declining. In fact, as
chair of the President’s Council of Public Colleges and
Universities of Michigan, it was my role to lead a bitter
yet successful struggle to resist the governor’s efforts
to control tuition. And this fight usually came to a head
in August, following the Legislature’s approval of the
appropriation bill, when the Governor’s staff would
begin to pressure the presidents and governing boards
to roll back tuition increases. Hence I would spend
much of my time in August coordinating the efforts of
the other universities to stand up to this intimidation.
And much of the time, I was the only one in the fort
carrying on the fight...
This was a lonely battle, but one in which defeat
would have seriously damaged the University. In the
end, Michigan managed to win each time--much to
the consternation of the Governor and his staff. For the
next several months staff would convey subtle threats
of “We’ll get even one of these days.”
August was also a silly time in the political season,
since every other year the state’s political parties would
hold their conventions to nominate candidates for the
fall election slate--including the nomination of Regents.
While both parties played games in the selection of
Regent candidates, the Republicans were by far the
worse because of the deep divisions within their party.
As a result, the interplay between party politics and the
press would always attempt to draw universities into
the fray.

On the Road … and on an Electronic Tether
Compounding the calendar complexity of leading
the University were a number of other commitments.
It is customary for presidents of major universities to
serve on a variety of public and private boards. Such
service activities not only benefit a university through
the contributions their leaders make to such efforts,

Jim as chair of the National Science Board
but they also add to the experience and ability of the
president.
I served on a number of such bodies: the Big Ten
Conference, various committees of higher education
organizations such as the American Association
of Universities, the National Association of State
Universities and Land Grant Colleges, the Presidents’
Council of State Universities of Michigan, the Executive
Council of the National Academy of Engineering,
and so on. I also served as a director of two major
corporations, Unisys (which had formerly been
Burroughs, a leading Michigan company) and CMS
Energy (the holding company for the state’s largest
electrical utility, Consumer’s Power).
But my most significant and demanding service
activity was the National Science Board. The NSB
consists of 24 leading scientists and engineers,
appointed by the President and confirmed by the Senate,
that oversee both the National Science Foundation and
the development of broader national science policy. I
had been appointed to a six-year term on the NSB by
President Reagan while I was Dean of Engineering,
and I was in the presidency when I was appointed to a
second six-year term by President Bush.
The National Science Board had a demanding
schedule, holding two or three-day meetings eight times
a year, usually coordinated with the federal budget
process. In addition, its various subcommittees took
on major assignments to develop key federal science
policies in a wide range of areas of scientific research
and education. During my first term on the NSB, I had

110
the additional responsibility of chairing one of the two
key subcommittees of the Board, the Education and
Human Resources Committee. During my second term,
I was elected chairman of the National Science Board,
and I held this position for three years.
This is one of the more important science roles in
the nation, and for a variety of reasons, I felt it quite
important to take on this assignment. (Interestingly
enough, even though this was quite an extraordinary
honor for the University, a senior Regent, Deane Baker
–as usual–objected and tried to persuade other Board
members not to let me serve!) In this role, I was not
only responsible for the operation of the Board, but
as well for the supervision of a staff of roughly two
dozen. Furthermore, I was in the unusual position of
having the Inspector General of the National Science
Foundation and her staff reporting directly to me. In a
very real sense, I had a second complex and demanding
job, beyond the myriad responsibilities of the Michigan
presidency.
Hence, for several years, our schedule was even
more complex than usual. I had to balance campus
responsibilities with federal politics. It was always an
interesting mental transition to shift from the issues
swirling about the campus or Lansing when I set aside
my Michigan president’s hat and donned my federal
hat to worry about Congressional committees or White
House policy or international relations. While life was
never dull, it was also very complex, and no doubt balls
were dropped from time to time.
Despite this, Washington service did provide an
occasional break in routine. During those years in which
the NSF was located two blocks from the White House,
we would stay in the J. W. Marriott on Pennsylvania
Avenue, also adjacent to the White House. Since this
hotel was also the center of much of the action in
Washington–the National Governors’ Conference,
numerous fund-raising events, and such–one was
swept along by national issues. Thanks to electronic
mail, faxes, and cellular phones, we were never out of
touch with Ann Arbor. In fact, rare was the time when I
could go more than a couple of hours in a Washington
meeting without my electronic pager going off–or a fax
coming in. But just being several hundred miles away
was a relief at times.
Throughout my 12 years on the NSB, there was an

ongoing challenge of coordinating my NSB calendar
with that of my various University roles as dean,
provost, and president. It was clear that my service on
the NSB greatly benefited the University. In fact, during
my presidency, the University of Michigan rose from
7th place to 1st place in the nation in the magnitude of
its research activity. While my role as one of the leaders
of American science was understood in Washington
and across the scientific community, it was sometimes
not well appreciated on the campus.
Unfortunately, in 1993, after Clinton succeeded Bush,
the National Science Foundation was moved out into
new quarters in Arlington, Virginia–more specifically,
adjacent to the Ballston Commons, a low-end shopping
mall on the Beltway. The NSB tried to resist the move,
but the Virginia Congressional delegation was very
effective in working with developers to build new
buildings and raid federal agencies from the District
of Columbia to fill them. They managed to persuade a
newly elected president to go along with this hijacking,
and as a result, National Science Board members had
to trade the excitement of the Smithsonian Mall for the
blandness of a shopping mall. Washington trips ceased
to be much fun...Yet, I managed to persevere and serve
both the University and the nation in these multiple
roles, albeit with even less sleep and exercise...
Beyond presidential duties and the National
Science Board, I also had a series of personal interests
and obligations that stretched me even further. I had
been elected as a member of the Executive Council of
the National Academy of Engineering. Normally this
would not have been a great time demand. But during
my term as a counselor, a maverick candidate managed
to get elected through a write-in ballot–although
how responsible people ever voted for him was hard
to understand since his track record for disrupting
organizations was well known. As he then proceeded
to dismantle the operations of the National Academy of
Engineering, there was no choice for the Council but to
undertake the unpleasant task of arranging for a recall
action–difficult, but in the end successful. But it was a
very time-consuming and troubling activity for many
on the Council.
As mentioned earlier, I served as a director on two
corporate boards–Unisys and CMS Energy. Actually, this
was quite common for Michigan presidents. Hatcher

111

Carmel Highlands

Highlands Inn

and Fleming had served as directors of Chrysler, and
Harold Shapiro served as a director of Dow, Burroughs,
Kellogg, and the Sloan Foundation. Such service
provided one with an interesting perspective of the
corporate world. It also helped develop relationships
with key corporate leaders. And, not inconsequentially,
it provided an important salary supplement that made
the relatively low compensation of the Michigan
presidency during our years somewhat more bearable.
These corporate boards would typically meet 6 to 8
times a year. However, there were important committee
assignments that took more time. Further, each board
generally had a 2-3 day planning session that did
require out-of-town travel. Thus, they too added to the
presidential overload.
My final additional responsibility was the Big Ten
Conference. During the early phase of my presidency,
I found my primary role was just protecting the
University from Conference actions, since I did not yet
have sufficient seniority to be in a leadership role. As
indicated elsewhere, this was sometimes a challenge. In
later years, my seniority increased to the point where
I became a member of the Executive Committee of
the Big Ten Conference, first as Vice-Chair and Chair
of its Finance Committee, and then finally as Chair
of the Board of Directors. In these latter roles I found
myself spending a great deal of time on Conference
matters–restructuring the NCAA from an association
into a federation, representing the Big Ten during
its Centennial Year, and negotiating with the Pac Ten
over the Rose Bowl relationship. While the day-to-day

management of Conference activities rested with its
very able Executive Director, Jim Delaney, I did have
the fiduciary responsibility as chair to keep on top of
matters. Again, another overload–unseen and certainly
unappreciated by most.

Escape
Although our many obligations made it impossible
for us to ever take an extended vacation during our
presidency, as did our predecessors, we sometimes
were able to escape for a few days. On these rare
occasions, we generally opted for one of two places:
Carmel, California or Walt Disney World in Orlando,
Florida.
Escaping to Carmel is easy to understand, since it
is one of the most beautiful places in the world. We
had discovered it during our years in California, and
whenever the rare opportunity for a few days away
arose, we generally looked to the west. Fortunately, the
microclimate associated with the Monterey Peninsula
gave Carmel wonderful weather essentially any time of
the year. So, whether it was an escape from the heat and
humidity of Michigan for a few days in late August or a
quick break in early January after a stressful Rose Bowl
trip, it provided a reliable refuge. The presence of my
brothers in San Francisco added a family incentive for
trips to Northern California.
However, one August when we were totally
exhausted and had not made plans to get out of town,
we put together a last minute trip. Our usual hotel,

112

Disney’s Polynesian Resort

Cinderella’s Castle, Walt Disney World

the Highlands Inn, was booked so we decided to try
the Post Ranch Inn in Big Sur. It had just opened and
in those days was affordable. No cars are allowed on
the cliffs, so we walked up to the registration building.
Since we were early and the room was not ready we
waited in the library. Soon a young man came in and
said “President Duderstadt, we have all been looking
forward to your visit.” A former owner of an Ann Arbor
restaurant had relocated to the Post Ranch Inn and had
employed several Michigan students for the summer.
Once again, you just can’t get away from Michigan. We
had a great time and did get some rest!
The second refuge, Walt Disney World, requires a
bit more explanation. For many years we had made the
trek south during the March spring break to the Magic
Kingdom with several other Michigan families.
Our children and their friends had all grown to
accept several days in the “Mouse House” in early
March as part of the annual tradition. Later, as Susan
and Kathy moved away from home and into their own
professional careers, they could always be relied upon
to give top priority to joining their parents for a few
days at Walt Disney World.
While a Disney World vacation doesn’t sound
particularly restful, it must be recognized that over the
years, this has developed into one of the most complete
resorts in the world. While the various theme parks can
sometimes be frequently crowded and confusing, the
resort areas are beautiful, restful, and relaxing. Hence
we found Disney World a place where we could get
away from things, while our children went their own

way at a somewhat more hectic pace.
Yet, even in Carmel or Walt Disney World, we
were only a phone call–or an electronic mail message–
away from the demands of the University. Many were
the times when I had to fly back to handle a quick
emergency.
In fact, during our ten years in the central
administration as provost and president, we never
really had a true vacation. We did manage to get away
on several trips–better yet, expeditions–to exotic places
such as China and Eastern Europe. But even on these
trips, we were representing the University and usually
working on institutional agendas. Rare, indeed, was the
day when we could set aside University problems or
demands.

Always Some Doubts
Sometimes Anne and I would wonder whether we
had taken on too much, whether there was any way to
reduce the number of our commitments, whether we
could simplify our presidential calendar. In the end, we
concluded that streamlining was probably impossible,
as much due to the nature of the presidential position
as to our own personalities. Over time, a university
president accumulates roles and responsibilities much
like a ship accumulates barnacles. As one becomes more
visible as a university leader, opportunities arise that
simply must be accepted as a matter of responsibility.
Our experience was that the number of new roles put
before us always seemed to outnumber the number of

113
old roles that we managed to complete.
Perhaps this is one of the reasons why the tenure
of the modern university president has become so
short. The inevitable accumulation of the barnacles of
multiple roles so weighs down the presidential ship
that it eventually sinks. Eventually, it must be replaced
by a fresh president, a clean ship, unencumbered as a
relative unknown by the array of obligations and duties
that build up over years of service.
Even when we were able to get several days’ distance
away, the time was frequently filled with phone calls,
e-mail messages, and faxes. Rare indeed was the
day when we could set aside university problems or

demands. This inability to decouple from the university,
to regain our strength, eventually played a key role in
our decision to step down from the presidency
So, what was the personal life of a university
president like? Once, after a long discussion of the past
year’s wear and tear by the presidents of the Tanner
Group, Neal Rudenstine of Harvard passed me a
note with a quote from Robert Frost that perhaps best
expresses it: “Happiness makes up in height for what it
lacks in length.”
Both of us were coming off rough years.

114
Chapter 8 Appendix
Michigan-at-Notre Dame Apple Pie
Apple Pie Mixture:
	
	
	
	
	
	
	
	

7 or 8 tart apples
3/4 cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons butter
lemon juice

1. Get up early on Saturday morning and go to
the Farmer’s Market. Ask your favorite farmer:
“Whatchagot that’s good for apple pies?” Follow his/
her advice and buy a bunch (8 apples per pie).

Anne’s story about the Apple Pies...
One day Jim brought me a recipe for apple pies that
he had cut out of the New York Times. I told him if he
wanted apple pies he should make them himself. This
was probably one of the most regretable things I have
ever said!
Since Jim never does anything in a small way, he
proceeded to make dozens of pies. He would freeze
them and when he wanted a pie he would take one out
of the freezer and bake it. The freezer was full of nothing but pies.
I could never make a good pie, and I must admit
that he had a way with the pie crust and his pies were
always delicious.

2. Use your handy-dandy mechanical apple peeler (or
your children) to peel the apples, slicing them, and then
sprinkle with lemon juice to keep them from browning.
3. To a bowl of 8 sliced apples, add 3/4 cup sugar, 1
teaspoon cinnamon, a dash of nutmeg and salt, and
then stir together with a large spoon.
4. Pour mixture into pie-tin lined with pastry shell.
(Prepare per instructions below.)
Pastry Ingredients:
	
	
	
	
	

2 cups unsifted flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup white shortening (chilled)
5 to 6 tablespoons water (ice-cold)
1 Fifth Jack Daniels (for the cook)

1. Empty 2 cups flour and 1/2 teaspoon salt into
foodprocessor and pulse briefly to mix. Then add 1 cup
white shortening. Pulse foodprocessor several times
until mixture becomes uniform but coarse. Finally, add 5
to 6 tablespoons water and pulse foodprocessor several
times until the mixture clumps together into a single

115
lump of pastry dough. Remove from foodprocessor and
shape by hands into a ball. Place dough in refrigerator
and chill.
2. When ball of pastry dough is chilled, remove it
from the refrigerator and cut in half. Place first half
on a chilled surface, sprinkled lightly with flour. Start
rolling with a chilled rolling pin, taking care to always
roll away from the center of the pastry dough. When
the pastry has been rolled to a circle of 6 to 7 inches
in diameter, turn it over and continue rolling until it
becomes a circle 11 to 12 inches in diameter (about 1/8
inch thick).
3. Fold pastry over rolling pin and then lay carefully
into pie pan. Using a knife, trim the pastry rim flush
with the rim of the pie tin.
4. Fill pastry-lined pie tin with apple mixture. Then add
6 slices of butter (two tablespoons) spaced uniformly
on top of apples.
5. Repeat the process of rolling out the second half-ball
of pastry into a circle. Again, fold pastry over rolling
pin and lay it carefully on top of filled pie tin. Trim the
top pastry about 1/2 inch from the edge of the pie pan.
Then, using a dinner knife, fold the edge of the upper
pastry crust under the edge of the lower pastry shell.
6. Using thumb and forefinger, crimp edges of pastry
around pie to bind upper and lower shells together.
Using a knife, slice six evenly spaced slits in the top
of the pie. Finally, brush a beaten egg mixture on the
surface of the pie to give it a brown color after baking.
7. Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Bake pie 50 to 60 minutes,
or until pastry surface browns and fluid bubbles out of
pie.
For mass production (6 pies or more), prepare pastry
and chill in morning. At gametime, begin rolling out
pastry, lining pie tins, preparing apples, and finishing
and baking pies. You should be able to make 2 to 3 pies
per quarter. If game is close, add one jigger Jack Daniels
per Michigan turnover–to the chef. Your productivity
by the fourth quarter will slow a bit, but by that time

you will have several pies baking at any one time.
Since you probably will be sufficiently distracted by the
game...or the Jack Daniels...that you will forget about
what time you put them in the oven, you should try to
watch them carefully, or just keep alert for the first signs
of smoke.
If Michigan wins, you should have a number of
wonderful apple pies for celebration. If Michigan loses,
then send a pie to the head football coach and the team
to cheer them up.

116

Chapter 9

Hail to the Victors
There is an old saying in presidential circles that
the contemporary university might be viewed as a
very fragile academic organization, delicately balanced
between the medical center at one end of the campus
and the athletic department at the other. The former can
sink it financially–the latter can sink it through public
gaffs.
But I remember another caution appropriate for
the University of Michigan. My predecessor, Robben
Fleming, imparted these words of wisdom that
apparently had been passed along from one Michigan
president to the next: The best way to keep from being
consumed by Michigan athletics is to make certain
that you win most of your football games–but never,
ever, win the last game. By winning consistently, you
keep the alumni, students, and fans interested and
supportive. But by never winning the last game, the
teams never become so highly ranked that folks take
Michigan sports too seriously.
Apparently President Fleming had great skill,
because this is precisely what he managed to do
during his years as president. With Bo Schembechler
at the helm, the Michigan football team won Big Ten
championship after Big Ten championship. But it
rarely managed to win its last game, which frequently
occurred in the Rose Bowl.
We were not so fortunate. We began our tenure
with not only a Rose Bowl win, but a NCAA basketball
national championship as well. It was all downhill from
there...

College Sports and the President
Mention Ann Arbor, and the image that probably
comes to mind is a crisp, brilliant weekend in the fall:
walking across campus through the falling leaves to

Michigan takes the field!
Michigan Stadium; gathering at tailgates before the big
game; the excitement of walking into that magnificent
stadium–“the Big House”–with 110,000 fans thrilling
to the Michigan Marching Band as they step onto
the field playing “Hail to the Victors.” Intercollegiate
athletics provide some of the very special moments
of college life. The excitement of a traditional football
rivalry such as Michigan vs. Ohio State. Or, perhaps,
special events such as a Rose Bowl or a NCAA Final
Four. Intercollegiate athletics programs at Michigan
are not only an important tradition at the University,
but they also attract as much public visibility as any
other University activity. They are also a critical part of
a university president’s portfolio of responsibilities. As
any leader of a NCAA Division I-A institution will tell
you, a president ignores intercollegiate athletics only at
great peril–both institutional and personal.
Although it is perhaps understandable that a
large, successful athletic program such as Michigan’s
would dominate the local media, it also has more
far-reaching visibility. Michigan receives far more

117
ink in the national media–the New York Times or the
Washington Post or even the Wall Street Journal–for its
activities on the field that it ever does for its classroom
or laboratory contributions. This media exposure is due
in part to the University’s long tradition of successful
athletics programs of high integrity. It also stems
from the increasingly celebrity character of college
sports: successful and quotable coaches such as Bo
Schembechler, flamboyant players such as the Fab Five
or the extraordinary scale of Michigan athletics, with a
football stadium averaging 110,000 spectators a game.
The popularity of Michigan athletics is a twoedged sword. While it certainly creates great visibility
for the University–after each Rose Bowl or Final Four
appearance, the number of applications for admission
surges–it also has a very serious potential for instability.
Every college athletic department, no matter how
committed and vigilant its leadership, nevertheless
can depend on an occasional misstep. After all, most
college student-athletes are still in their teens; the great
popularity of college sports attracts all hangers-on to
key programs, some well-intentioned, some not; there is
intense pressure from the sports media; and the NCAA
rulebook is larger and more complex than the United
States Tax Code. When mistakes occur, the president is
generally expected to shoulder the blame, even when
he or she rarely has any direct knowledge much less
involvement in the incident.
The role of the president in Michigan athletics has
been complex and varied. Although the president
and first lady of the University have always had an
array of formal, visible roles associated with athletics
(e.g., entertaining visitors at football games and
representing the University at key events such as bowl
games), they have other far more significant roles. The
concerns about scandals in college sports have led to
a fundamental principle of institutional control at both
the conference and NCAA level in which university
presidents are expected to have ultimate responsibility
and final authority over athletic programs. Although
previously there had usually been a formal reporting
relationship of the athletic department to the president,
in many cases powerful athletic directors had kept the
president and the institution at arm’s length. However,
by the 1980s, it became clear that the days of the czar
athletic director and independent athletics department

were coming to an end. These activities were simply too
visible and their impact on the university too great for
college sports to be left entirely to the direction of the
athletics establishment, its values, and its culture.
Furthermore, in the late 1980s, the Big Ten Conference
became incorporated, with the university presidents
serving as its board of directors. This new corporate
conference structure demanded both policy and
fiduciary oversight by the presidents. It also demanded
a great deal of time and effort, since the operations of
the Big Ten Conference are more extensive than those of
the professional sports leagues. Many was the day spent
in meetings at O’Hare, or elsewhere about the country,
working–or jousting–with other Big Ten presidents on
Conference matters.
There is yet another presidential role, certainly
more enjoyable and perhaps even more important but
far less visible: that of providing a sense of caring for
and involvement with the coaches, student athletes,
and athletics staff. Ironically, at Michigan, the Athletic
Department is the only major unit that reports directly
to the president, through the athletic director. (Other
units report through vice-presidents.) Both Anne and
I felt a particular responsibility to provide both strong
interest in and support for the various programs. We
tried to attend as many athletic events as our time
permitted–particularly the less visible “non-revenue”
sports. We hosted a variety of events and activities for
the Department. We developed personal friendships
with many of the coaches and staff. And we tried to be
as supportive as possible, during both good times and
bad.
Michigan athletics is, in reality, very much a
family affair, with coaches, staff, players, and families
forming a tight-knit community. We felt very much a
part of this Michigan family, and we developed a deep
appreciation for the trials and tribulations of the people
who guided and participated in varsity athletics. While
we always thought of student-athletes as students
first–and of coaches as teachers–we nevertheless also
regarded them as our family, with an increasing sense
of responsibility for their welfare.

Early Years
Like most of the Michigan faculty, we had long been

118

We used to walk to Michigan Stadium
with our daughters ($2 tickets for children!).

UM Band Director William Revelli leading Band Day

distant spectators of Michigan athletics. During our
early years on the faculty we joined most of the rest of
Ann Arbor in attending football games, sitting in the
same seats near the end-zone year after year with other
faculty. We had moved from California to Michigan in
late 1968–arriving the same week, incidentally, that Bo
Schembechler moved to Michigan, albeit without the
same fanfare. Bo’s first football season was also the
Duderstadts’ first. We cheered Michigan on as it upset
Ohio State in 1969 to win a trip to the Rose Bowl, and
then we agonized along with the rest of the University
as Bo had his heart attack and Michigan was defeated
in the 1970 Rose Bowl by Southern California. We were
enthusiastic fans, but no more closely involved with
Michigan football than hundreds of thousands of others
in the stands or in front of the television.
Basketball was more of a random experience for
us. During the years when Johnny Orr was coach, we
shared season tickets with some friends for a few years,
remotely situated in the upper reaches of the Crisler
Center under the scoreboard. But as our children grew
older and became involved in their own sporting
activities—and as the trek across bitterly cold parking
lots to Crisler Arena made television a more comfortable
alternative—we became armchair fans.
Coming from warmer climates (California and
Missouri) made it difficult for us to understand hockey,
the other revenue sport at Michigan. Although women’s
athletics were not yet on the Athletic Department radar
screen, there were other sports such as swimming,

baseball, and gymnastics. But these were never given
high visibility by either Michigan athletics or the media
and hence did not enjoy the intense fan interest of
football and basketball.
Yet we certainly could be regarded as interested
and loyal Michigan fans. We enjoyed Bo’s success
with Michigan football, and we suffered as did other
Michigan loyalists when Michigan lost year after year
in Pasadena. We followed Michigan basketball with
great interest. But we were not personally involved
beyond the level of common fan interest.
At least we weren’t until we became members of the
central administration when I became provost of the
University in 1986 . . .

Mainstreaming
Change was the order of the day in intercollegiate
athletics during our years in the presidency. Just prior
to my selection as president, Don Canham retired.
Although this was no surprise, since Canham had
reached the University’s then mandatory retirement
age of seventy, it was nevertheless a difficult moment,
both because of his reluctance to step down and the
problems in selecting a successor. Due to the high level
of visibility of the position, Regarded as one of the
leading athletics directors in the nation, Michigan’s
Don Canham had built an independent empire, in
which coaches, staff, and athletes were perceived as
something apart from the University. Further, there was

119
little understanding and respect between the Athletic
Department and those folks “up on the hill”—a reference
to the central administration. More serious was the
considerable administrative and cultural separation
that had evolved within the Athletic Department and
among its staff, coaches, and students, and the rest of
the University. While some of this gap was due, no
doubt, to the strong and independent personality of
Don Canham as Athletics Director, there were other
factors. Michigan had long taken pride in the fact that
its Athletic Department was prosperous enough that
it required no University subsidy, largely because of
the gate receipts from the largest football stadium in
America. This financial independence contributed to
the isolation of the department.
This vast separation between Michigan athletics
and the rest of the University posed a real challenge.
It was depriving student-athletes of many of the
important experiences that should have been part
of their education. So too, it placed coaches in the
awkward position of being decoupled from the rest of
the institution. Indeed, the Athletic Department itself
was highly compartmentalized, with coaches and
athletes in one program having little interaction with
those in others. Both Anne and I decided to take on
as a personal challenge the task of “mainstreaming”
Michigan athletics. This was probably a more natural
effort for us than many realized. We had both been
actively involved in sports. Anne had been a cheerleader
in high school—the only “sport” available for girls in
our small country school. And I had played football
at Yale. Furthermore, our daughter Kathy had been a
varsity athlete in college, competing in the heptathalon
and crew. Hence we had an appreciation for both the
importance of sports to the education of students and
the importance of athletics to the University. It also
seemed to us that there was an important symbolism
associated with the Provost, the chief academic officer
of the university, taking on this role; it made a strong
statement that athletics should be strongly related to
the academic nature of the university.
We began by arranging events that brought together
student-athletes and coaches in various academic
settings—museums, concert halls, and such. We wanted
to stress that student-athletes were students first, and
that coaches were, in reality, teachers. In the process of

Anne with her new pals.
arranging and hosting these events, we began to realize
that the isolation among sports programs was just as
serious as the chasm between the Athletic Department
and the rest of the University. Students and coaches
enjoyed the opportunity to meet participants from
other sports programs. We also began to build personal
relationships with coaches and Athletic Department
staff, both through attending events and by meeting
with them individually. For example, even while I
was Provost, we began to attend the annual Football
Bust held to honor the football team following each
season, an event we would continue to attend regularly
throughout our presidency.
Our efforts to strengthen relationships with studentathletes, coaches, and staff of the Athletic Department
led to some strong friendships, among them Bo
Schembechler. In fact, Bo made it a point to show up
at my public interview for president. When the papers
reported my selection by the Regents the next day,
whose picture should be on the front page but Bo’s,
with the quote: “He was my choice!”

Athletic Director Musical Chairs
Harold Shapiro wisely asked former president
Robben Fleming to chair a search committee to find a
successor to Don Canham. Not only did Fleming have
great credibility within and beyond the University
community, but he also had very considerable skills

120

Don Canham, defining the AD Czar

The new AD: Bo Schembechler

and experience in dealing with complicated political
situations. It was truly a thankless job, but Bob was
willing to help out. Ironically enough, shortly after
Fleming began the search, he was also tapped by the
Board of Regents to serve as interim president for a brief
period between the time that Shapiro left for Princeton
and I was selected as his permanent successor.
Bob Fleming conducted the search with careful
attention both to process and integrity. From the
beginning it was clear that Bo Schembechler would not
only be an important factor, but that he also must be
considered as a serious candidate himself. However,
the search began with the premise that it would be very
difficult for any mortal to hold both the jobs of head
football coach and athletics director. Fleming was able
to negotiate an ingenious compromise. A long-serving
and well-liked stalwart of the University, Associate Vice
President for Business and Finance, Jack Weidenbach,
was asked to serve as associate athletics director and
handle the detailed management of the Department
while Bo was involved in coaching duties. Jack was
an outstanding choice. He had long served behind
the scenes as the link between the University and the
Athletic Department, watching over its physical plant
and its finances. Moreover, he had a strong personal
interest in athletics. A marathon runner himself, he
had long been involved as a volunteer in women’s
sports. Since he was in his mid-60s, such a move would

not harm his career. And most important, he had an
excellent relationship with Bo Schembechler and the
other coaches.
After the first football season, it became apparent
to Bo that carrying two jobs was far more difficult
and stressful than he had imagined. His first year
was spectacular–a Big Ten football championship, a
Rose Bowl victory over USC, and then the surprise of
the NCAA basketball championship with a substitute
coach, Steve Fisher. There were also downsides, such
as the investigation of serious violations in the baseball
program. But Bo began to realize that, even with Jack
Weidenbach as backup, there was simply too much
personal stress in handling both jobs.
Bo had another tremendous football team in our
second year in the presidency, once again winning the
Big Ten championship and earning the opportunity to
play in the Rose Bowl. Shortly after the season ended,
however, Bo called and asked to come over to talk with
me about an important matter. I had a hunch what was
on his mind. Sure enough, Bo stated his intention to
retire as football coach. Bo said that he and his wife,
Millie, had decided that it was time for him to step
down from coaching. I strongly urged him to stay
on, but he declined, explaining that while he loved
coaching, the other demands of the job–long recruiting
trips and such–were just too stressful for his health.
When Bo decided that he wanted to step down from the

121

Jack Weidenbach: our second Athletic Director

Joe Roberson takes over from Jack

athletics directorship, I faced the challenge of selecting
and getting regental approval for his successor. I was
concerned about further unrest among the Regents
if the University had to go through the process again
so soon after selecting Bo. The haste of Bo’s decision
proved a certain advantage, since there was no time to
conduct a full search. I asked Jack Weidenbach to serve
as athletics director, with the support of the Board of
Regents. During the eighteen months of the Bo-Jack
team, Jack and I had developed a close relationship,
and I had full confidence in Jack’s leadership of the
department. I also believed there were a number
of objectives that Jack could accomplish as interim
AD that might be very hard for a permanent AD to
handle. For example, there was the enormous task
of rebuilding Michigan athletics facilities. As former
head of the University plant department, Jack was
ideal for this role. The University faced another major
challenge in establishing the priority and the quality of
women’s athletics programs. Jack’s deep commitment
to women’s athletics made this a natural.
Both Jack and I believed that college athletics were
facing a period of significant change at the national
and conference level. We believed a close relationship
between the athletics director and the president was
critical if Michigan was to play a leadership role during
this period. I also was convinced that Michigan would
be at some risk if it had to endure the uncertainty and

loss of momentum associated with another search for
an athletics director.
In retrospect, I remain convinced I could not have
made a better choice. While Jack was not the public
figure of Bo Schembechler, he was outstanding in
managing the department. Furthermore, he had a
strong understanding of both the University’s and
the Department’s values and tradition. Jack and I
worked closely together on a number of critical fronts:
renegotiating the distribution of football gate receipt
revenue policies in the Big Ten, opposing major
expansion of the Big Ten Conference, building the
number and quality of Michigan’s women’s programs,
and stressing the importance of the non-revenue sports.
The Weidenbach era experienced years of both
extraordinary success and great progress for Michigan
athletics. There is no other five-year period in the
history of Michigan athletics programs with more
conference championships, bowl wins, Final Four
appearances, and All-Americans–both athletic and
academic. In addition, the financial structure of
Michigan athletics was stabilized, its physical plant
was rebuilt, and the coaches and student-athletes were
more clearly integrated into the broader life of the
campus community.
Unfortunately, Jack was already close to retirement
when he agreed to provide leadership for the Athletic
Department. Although a marathon runner, he believed it

122
important that he step down before age seventy. So once
again I faced the challenge of selecting a new athletics
director. In this case, it seemed appropriate to conduct
a thorough national search, totally consistent with the
personnel policies and practices of the University. I
asked the Vice President and Chief Financial Officer,
Farris Womack, to chair a search committee comprised
of faculty, students, and staff.
Although there were several candidates with
Michigan backgrounds considered by the search
committee, none of these had the experience or
credentials to make the short list, which contained
several of the top athletic directors in the country.
Following the search committee’s recommendations, I
began discussions with the top two candidates on the
list, who were both quite interested in the position.
Unfortunately, some of the booster crowd got wind of
the possibility that a “non-Michigan man” would be
selected and began to apply pressure on the Regents to
force the administration to look inside the Department
for a successor.
I finally concluded that it was simply too dangerous
to the University to continue the external search.
Instead, with the support of the search committee,
I asked an insider, Joe Roberson, then Director of the
Campaign for Michigan, to accept an appointment.
Joe’s name had been considered early in the search, but
his role as the director of the University’s billion-dollar
fund-raising campaign was felt to be more important.
Roberson’s appointment was a surprise to outsiders.
He was, however, a former college athlete and
professional baseball player. More important, he had
served as both dean and interim chancellor of the UMFlint campus. He was an individual of great integrity,
with a strong sense of academic values. Although there
was some opposition from one of the Regents, the others
supported Roberson’s appointment, and the situation
was rapidly stabilized. Joe had served the University of
Michigan well in an extraordinary array of assignments,
and he was to do the same as Michigan’s new athletics
director.
Beyond his strong and wise leadership of the
department, his long experience with students and
academic life as a faculty member and academic leader
enabled him to elevate the importance of students as
students first and athletes second, in priority, even

The Victor’s Club tailgates before the game
in a highly competitive program such as Michigan.
Certainly Joe Roberson had a better understanding of
the mission and culture of an academic institution than
any athletic director of his era.

Football Weekends
Much of life in Ann Arbor during the fall–social,
commercial, and University–revolves around football
weekends. This is as much the case for the University
president as for the football coach. Most of the
University’s “development” events (read fund-raising)
occur around football weekends. Alumni reunions,
visiting committees, major fund-raising events,
cultivation of politicians–you name it–all occur on the
Thursday through Saturday of football weekends. The
reason is simple: everybody appreciated an opportunity
to visit Ann Arbor and attend the pageantry and
spectacle of a Michigan football game.
Although most armchair fans see such an event
as simply another televised football game, it is much,
much more to those who came to Ann Arbor. The town
is alive with activity, student pep-rallies, fraternity and
sorority parties, retail events, concerts, plays, rallies,
and much more, during the days leading up to the
weekend. The “game” itself generally starts early in
the morning as thousands of cars, vans, and mobile
homes gathered about the stadium for tailgates. In fact,
there are certain areas set aside, such as the Victors
Club parking area adjacent to the stadium, where those
who are sufficiently supportive of Michigan football

123

Entertaining venues for football “tailgates”
The Press-box Hospitality Area and the Golf Clubhouse
(in a financial sense) have reserved parking to set up
their tents, tables and chairs, barbecue grills, and other
necessities of tailgating life. Many groups have special
tents set up around the stadium, some in parking areas,
others on the Michigan golf course. Others arrive in
specially designed vehicles, mobile homes and the like,
all equipped for the tailgate experience.
The experience of a football weekend is quite
different for the president than for other fans. Since
these weekends were one of the University’s most
important development events, Anne and I hosted
hundreds of guests at various events throughout
the weekend. When we were first sentenced to the
presidency, we found that it was customary for the
president to host a sit-down luncheon for thirty or forty
guests in two seatings in a small dining area in the
pressbox–generally serving something rather dreadful

like meatloaf or lasagna–just the thing before a intense
football game in generally inclement weather. A few
select guests were then invited to sit with the president,
although the president’s box could only accommodate
a dozen guests.
Working with the Athletic Department, the Office of
Development, and various caterers, Anne completely
redesigned these efforts. She created a major tailgate
function, capable of entertaining several hundred
guests. During the early part of the season, while the
weather was still decent, these were held in a tent on
the golf course grounds adjacent to the stadium. Since
November in Ann Arbor can become rather grim, she
worked with the Athletic Department staff to redesign
the Golf Course Clubhouse area so that this could
serve for entertainment later in the season. For certain
games, such as Ohio State or Michigan State, tailgate

124

Anne casting a magic spell on Michigan Stadium
was hosted in the Chrisler Center. The staff from the
Plant Department and the Athletic Department worked
to double the hospitality area below the pressbox and
provided windows and an entrance directly to several
hundred seats in Michigan Stadium which could be
used for invited guests. The president’s and athletics
director’s boxes were also renovated to handle the large
number of guests invited to sit in these areas. Since the
University had launched a major fund-raising effort
aimed at generating over one billion dollars in gifts,
these facilities were invaluable.
Gametime in the president’s box was always a bit
of a zoo. While we had advance knowledge of most
of our guests–indeed, we had personally selected
and invited them from a list proposed by deans and
development staff earlier in the summer–there were
always surprises. Sometimes folks had simply gotten
lost and wandered into the box by mistake. Other times
we had gatecrashers. We were almost certain to have
surprise visitors–guests who had decided at the last
moment to drive over to Ann Arbor to attend the game
and who expected to be accommodated personally by
the president. And we would occasionally have visiting
delegations, for example, from various holiday bowls
seeking Michigan as a participant. Thank heavens for
Anne’s political skills, since handling the unpredictable
took great tact and adaptability.
Our box was generally filled with various types of
VIPs. We sent standing invitations to the CEOs of GM,
Ford, and Chrysler. We would occasionally have people
from the media or entertainment world–e.g., Mike

Wallace (an alumnus), Charlie Gibson, or Joan Lunden.
But most of our guests were alumni and friends of the
University, people who provided much of the support
to make Michigan such a special place. Although we
worked hard at these events to sell the University, it
was an enjoyable experience as well because many of
those folks became personal friends whom we would
look forward to seeing every year.
After the game ended and our guests left, we
would drop by the press-box hospitality area for a few
minutes to wait for traffic to clear. Since this area had
TV monitors mounted on the walls, we could catch up
on other games. But most of the time was spent in a
post-mortem of the Michigan game with guests–along
with some additional opportunity for fund-raising,
of course. After the rest of our guests left, we would
walk back to our car and drive back to the president’s
house, following a less-trafficked route, which we had
discovered from twenty years of post-game driving
experience. Once home, we would collapse–unless, of
course, we had to go to another event that evening!

The Rose Bowl
On five different occasions during our presidency,
we had the opportunity to lead the Michigan expedition
to the Rose Bowl for New Year’s Day. While each Rose
Bowl was a different experience, there were certain
similarities.
The Tournament of Roses and its Rose Bowl are,
in reality, a weeklong circus of events: promotional
press conferences, black tie dinner dances, luncheons,
and other activities. Beyond this, the team itself has
a number of events: special luncheons and banquets,
trips to places like Disneyland, pep rallies, and press
conferences. Finally, because of the large turnout of
alumni and friends, Anne and I viewed the Rose Bowl
as a major development opportunity, and always
scheduled a number of special events for donors. As a
result, we spent much of our time on Rose Bowl trips
driving about the Los Angeles freeway system from
one event to another.
The Rose Bowl is all about tradition. For many
years the Big Ten Clubs of Southern California hosted
a huge dinner show to honor the team and to raise
money for their other projects. Although this was held

125

Rose Bowl festivities...and lots of work for the President and First Lady

Rose Bowl scenes...including a relaxed Bo with his son and Mitch Albom
for years at the Hollywood Palladium, eventually the
seedy condition of this facility and the awkwardness
of its location resulted in moving the event to the
headquarters hotel, the Century Plaza. The event itself
was always the same–a dinner followed by a series of
old guard entertainers “volunteering their time and
talents,” in return for a block of Rose Bowl tickets. Bob
Hope was always the headliner, although as he got on
in years, his appearance was briefer, and his jokes more
predictable. Other headliners included Pia Zadora and
her daughter, an assortment of circus acts and several
dreadful Las Vegas nightclub comedians.
Of far higher quality was the elegant black-tie dinner
dance hosted by the Tournament of Roses Committee,
generally at the Huntington Ritz in Pasadena. Since
there was a standing tradition that the presidents of
the Rose Bowl universities would sit at the same table
with the Grand Marshall of the Rose Parade, Anne and

I got to meet some interesting folks...Pele, John Glenn,
Angela Lansbury, Shirley Temple Black, and Cristobol
Colombo (the many, many times removed descendant
of Christopher Columbus) who was paired with Ben
Nighthorse Campbell for historical correctness. The
crowd consisted of many of Pasadena’s old guard, so
my Caltech jokes were always very much appreciated.
In fact, toward the latter days of my presidency
when Michigan football fell on harder times, the
representatives of the Tournament of Roses would
frequently tell us how much they missed the Caltech
jokes and how we needed to try harder to get Michigan
back to Pasadena.
In an effort to link together the various elements
of the Michigan delegation, Anne and I started the
tradition of having brunch with the football team the
day before the game. We also would visit the band at
one of its practices on each bowl trip. Since we started

126
this tradition during one of our rare winning Rose Bowl
trips, it soon joined the list of sporting superstitions,
and we found ourselves invited back every year.
Another Rose Bowl tradition was to invite the
governors of the states of the Rose Bowl teams as official
members of the bowl parties. Although this was always
a busy time of year for governors, sometimes even
overlapping with their inauguration after being elected,
Michigan did manage to get the governors to attend on
two occasions. In 1989, Governor Jim Blanchard flew
out for the game itself. Then in 1993, Governor John
Engler and his wife Michelle came out to California for
a number of the bowl events. Each of the two years the
governors attended, Michigan won the Rose Bowl, and
on each occasion, the governors went with me to the
locker room to sing “Hail to the Victors” along with the
team.

The Final Four
Our first experience with the Final Four was totally
unexpected. Prior to the NCAA tournament, Michigan
had had a rather mediocre season–lots of talent on the
team, but certainly not dominant in the Big Ten. The
team was selected among the 64 that would play in
the NCAA tournament, but nobody expected them to
get very far. Indeed, just before the tournament began,
Coach Bill Frieder announced that he had accepted
another coaching position at Arizona State, and so the
team would be led by the unknown assistant coach,
Steve Fisher (as Bo put it, “Only a Michigan man can
coach a Michigan team!”)
There was mild surprise when Michigan won its
first two games to go on to the regionals in Lexington,
Kentucky. But everybody knew Michigan would
run into a strong North Carolina team, and, just as in
previous years, it would be lights out. And so it was, but
rather for North Carolina. Michigan tore through the
regional, upsetting both North Carolina and Virginia
to win the trip to the Final Four in Seattle. It was a
shocking turn of events, but, again, most suspected
the team would go no further. After all, both Duke and
Illinois (a team which had already destroyed Michigan
twice) were also in the Final Four.
We hurriedly rearranged our schedules so that
we could fly out to Seattle for the first game. It was

complex, because we had commitments the night
before in Kalamazoo, and we would have to fly out
on the Saturday of the game. There were no direct
flights available, but we did manage to get a connection
through Kansas City that would get us to Seattle
in time for the game. While we were sitting on the
connecting flight in Kansas City with about a dozen
other Michigan fans–all also taking the only available
flight–and waiting for the last passengers before taking
off, a woman boarded the plane with a small boy in
tow. When she saw the small group of Michigan fans,
she yelled: “Stewardess, change my seats to sit with my
people over here. I’m Rumeal’s mom!” And she was
indeed, Helen Ford, the mother of Rumeal Robinson,
who was destined to make the two free throws in
overtime to win the national championship. She proved
to be a wonderful addition to the Michigan contingent.
When someone asked her how Rumeal could jump so
high, she responded, “Honey, if I was your mom, you
would jump high too!”
The Final Four itself is almost anticlimactic for the
participants. It is an event designed for television and
for the corporate fatcats that the NCAA officials want
to stroke. At Seattle the games were played in an indoor
football stadium, in which most people were seated
miles from the court. This was made even worse by the
NCAA decision to seat row upon row of press around
the court, so that the true spectator seating began even
farther back. The teams and their schools are treated
almost as an afterthought–usually placed in hotels on
the outskirts of the city, given a small number of poor
tickets, and otherwise essentially ignored, except for
the frequent and mandatory press conferences.
We then learned the next quirk of Final Fours. You
can only purchase tickets–if you can find them–and
hotel reservations in blocks for the entire Final Four
series, both the semifinals and final. Since the semifinal
is played on Saturday, and the championship final is
not played until Monday night, that leaves you with
Sunday and the better part of Monday without much to
do. This is bearable for winning teams looking forward
to the championship game. But it is a dismal experience
for those teams and fans that lose on Saturday, since
they are required to stay through Monday or lose
enormous amounts of money.
Of course, many of the losing fans just want to get

127

Our first Final Four in 1989 resulting in a national championship
and a congratulations to Coach Steve Fisher by President Bush.

The “Fab Five” took Michigan back to the Final Four twice more,
but was beaten in the championship game each time.
out of town, and immediately after the semifinal games,
there are large numbers of scalpers waiting by the exits
where the losing fans are seated, offering to buy their
unused tickets to the championship game. Incidentally, this is the reason why tickets to the semifinals are
scalped at hundreds of times face value, while those to
the championship round sometimes go begging.
Fortunately, I had a long-lost relative living in
Seattle whom we visited on Sunday. On Monday, we
had another pep rally, and then left for the game with
Bo and Millie Schembechler. This was an interesting
experience, because even though Bo was athletics
director, he was still regarded as a celebrity. In fact, the
interim coach, Steve Fisher, was so unknown that he
had difficulty being admitted to the stadium prior to the
championship game. Since Bo had been hiding from the
crowds, he needed something to eat before the game.

They had arranged for a big, white stretch limousine
to take them from the hotel to the Kingdome, so Bo
suggested they just pull into the drive-thru window of
a MacDonalds on the way so he could get some Chicken
McNuggets. Unfortunately, the stretch limo wouldn’t
fit, so one of the Athletics staff, Jeff Long, had to run in
to get the order. A new definition of traveling in style!
The championship game itself was another cosmic
event, with the now famous overtime win over Seton
Hall. After a seesaw battle, the game went into overtime.
Trailing by one point with only a few seconds to play,
Rumeal Robinson was fouled. He calmly stepped to the
line and made both free throws to give Michigan an 80
to 79 victory and the national championship.
After the bedlam and celebration at the Kingdome,
Anne and I returned to the hotel in another limousine,
this time with Alumni Director Bob Forman and his

128

Jalen Rose and Chris Webber were the stars of college basketball.
wife Patti, and Judge Geraldine Ford, alumni president.
Judge Ford explained that she had her “mo-jo” working
the entire game. That was the trick. (But we still think
that Rumeal’s mom was the key.)
Quite an experience. Indeed, perhaps a once-in-alifetime experience, anyplace else but Michigan. As fate
would have it, three years later we found ourselves
back at the Final Four, this time with the Fab Five,
probably the most talented class of freshman basketball
players in history.
Although it took awhile for the team to jell–and for
Steve Fisher to get enough nerve to play all the freshman
at once–by the end of the season they had developed
into a national powerhouse. In their last game they took
apart a strong Indiana team and earned a berth in the
NCAA tournament.
Nobody expected very much of Michigan in the
tournament since the team was so young, but, again,
Michigan was full of surprises. The Fab Five proceeded
to knock off each opponent, including Big Ten
champion Ohio State in the Regionals, to earn the trip
to the Final Four. Ironically, Michigan followed much
the same route through the regionals to the Final Four
as it had three years before, including playing its early
games in Atlanta. Since most coaches are superstitious,
Steve Fisher took no chances, and the team stayed in
the same hotel and went on the same tours that the 1989

team had on its march through Atlanta. The next night,
Michigan came very close to beating Duke, leading at
the half, but Duke finally wore them down. The trip
back on the team plane wasn’t as enjoyable as the flight
back from Seattle. But the team was young, and the
chant was “We’ll be back!”
And indeed they were. The next year, they once again
beat a series of very good teams in the tournament to
make it to the Final Four in New Orleans. This particular
Final Four was even more show-biz that the first two,
being played in the gigantic Superdome. The other
teams were all traditional powers: Kentucky, Kansas,
and North Carolina. Again, nobody gave Michigan
much of a chance, particularly playing number-one
ranked Kentucky in the semifinals. But in perhaps the
greatest game a Michigan team has ever played, they
beat Kentucky in overtime. The championship game
against North Carolina was evenly matched, with the
lead seesawing back and forth throughout the game.
Although Michigan held a 5 point lead with two minutes
left, North Carolina took the lead again on two long
3-pointers. The ending was one of those unforgettable
moments: Michigan struggling back, only to have its
star player, Chris Webber, became confused and call an
illegal timeout which iced the game for North Carolina.
Although it was a disappointing ending, it again
demonstrated, as did our earlier experiences, that the

129
Final Four–who makes it and who wins it–is largely a
matter of fate.
This was to be the last Final Four for this team. One
by one, the precocious young players of the original Fab
Five were lured into the pros, and the team withered
away.
The demise of the Fab Five was probably not a bad
thing for the University. One of the unusual features
of this team was its flamboyance and bravado–and its
popularity. It was this Michigan team that introduced
a new fashion wave to college basketball: long baggy
pants–black socks and shoes. This was the team that
suggested in their first year they were so good they
could win four NCAA championships. The press was
drawn to them like flies to honey.
Some believe that the Fab Five caused longerterm damage to Michigan athletics. In a sense, these
precocious athletic talents challenged every tradition
of the old guard, both among the fans and the sports
boosters. Their street culture style, their arrogance, and,
perhaps most of all, their success triggered a bitterness
among some in the college sports establishment which
continues to this day.
Yet those close to the team knew these were not
only talented athletes, but several were strong students
(particularly Jalen Rose). They dramatically changed
the nature of college basketball from the dominance of
power coaches such as Adolph Rupp of Kentucky to
the joy and free spirit tolerated by Steve Fisher–and, in
our opinion, a change for the good.
While television has turned the Final Four into
the showy spectacle of March Madness, those who
experienced it as participants developed a more cynical
attitude. It represented the extreme of what can happen
when one allows the media to transform college
athletics into show business.

Coaches
Coaching a modern college athletic program is
a demanding and intense profession. The rigors of
recruiting, coaching, working with student-athletes,
handling the enormous public attention–particularly
that from the media–and adhering to the complex
rules governing athletes and athletics are challenging.
Coaching requires extraordinary commitment, long

hours of work, and demanding travel schedules; it
often yields frustration and disappointment.
While the celebrity coaches in highly visible football
and basketball programs are paid at astronomical
levels, at least at universities, their colleagues in other
sports programs receive only modest compensation.
The same is true for assistant coaches, whose salaries
are sometimes almost a factor of ten less than the total
compensation of the head coach in the revenue sports.
For the majority of coaches in intercollegiate athletics,
the real compensation lies not in the income but rather
in the enjoyment of working with talented studentathletes, of seeing their progress, and watching them
succeed, both on the field and in the classroom.
Although Anne had been close to a number of
coaches wives from the earliest days at the University
through organizations such as the Faculty Women’s
Club, I really had never met any of the coaches until
I became provost. We worked to strengthen the bonds
not only between coaches and the University but also
among the coaches themselves. Each year we would
try to host some kind of an event for coaches and their
spouses, although in the first year they had to seek
permission from their boss, Mr. Canham.
In the presidency, Anne and I had many more
opportunities to interact with Michigan’s coaches, and
we began to develop a deeper sense of appreciation
both for their dedication and skills, as well as their
challenges. It was clear that there was a world of
difference between the lives led by the head coaches
of the football and basketball programs and the
coaches of the other athletics teams. While the football
and basketball coaches were exceptionally well
compensated, they also led public lives that placed
great stress on them and their families.
We first experienced the family pressures when
we got to know Bo and Millie Schembechler. Bo
appreciated our efforts to build stronger links between
his players and the University, and we certainly came to
respect his remarkable leadership ability and his deep
commitment to his players. Millie was also a warm and
wonderful member of the Michigan team. One Rose
Bowl she even taught Anne the Schembechler side step.
That is, when you are walking with Bo, and you see the
press ahead, you take a quick step to the side to avoid
the photographers. Anne learned well.

130

Gary Moeller at the 1993 Rose Bowl
Anne’s involvement with Michigan athletics
deserves a note here. Although she had never been a big
football or basketball fan, as she got to know the coaches,
staff, and players on a personal level, she became quite
emotionally invested in Michigan athletics. In part, it
was probably akin to a parental attachment, since in a
sense, one of the roles the president and spouse of the
university is to act as surrogate “mom and pop” to the
students. Anne also developed a very deep appreciation
for the wives and families of the coaches, the stresses and
challenges they faced, and the importance of providing
some visible support. Usually before major football
and basketball games, Anne would make a point to
visit briefly with the coaches wives. And, over time,
she probably became as nervous as the wives during
the games themselves–as excited by victories and as
disappointed in defeats. It was largely at her urging
that we did our best to attend at least a part of an event
for each of the teams throughout the year–although
the calendar sometimes made this very difficult. Anne
became particularly attached to the rapidly evolving
programs in women’s athletics at Michigan.
We developed a deep affection and empathy for the
coaches and staff of the athletic department. Perhaps it
was because we, too, felt many of the public pressures
and the frustrating lack of understanding of their
roles by the media and the fans; we had a sympathetic
understanding of the sacrifices made by the coaches
and players, and their families. Beyond this, there
was a refreshing simplicity of values among most of
Michigan’s sports programs, an absence of politics, and

Steve Fisher coaching in the NCAA tournament
a deep concern for the welfare of the student-athletes,
which was usually missed or ignored by those outside
the department.

Student-Athletes and Families
In our presidential role, Anne and I frequently
attended athletics events, but we rarely had any direct
interaction with players. Of course, there were occasions
such as receptions or bowl events when we met their
families. But the players were generally sufficiently
occupied with other activities–athletics and academics–
that more than a brief conversation with the president
was difficult. Furthermore, they were restricted by
NCAA rules in the level of contact, e.g., through events
such as receptions.
Although I always found the time if asked, I rarely
became involved in recruiting student-athletes. Most
often, I would simply greet them if they were brought
up to the president’s box during the halftime of a
football game, or meet with the parents to assure them
that their son or daughter would get a good education.
Perhaps the relative inactivity in recruiting was due to
my remarkable lack of success.

131
For the purpose of both physical and mental maintenance, Anne and I would try to make it over to the
University’s track for an early morning hour of walking and jogging–the outdoor varsity track during good
weather, but more frequently in the Michigan climate,
the indoor track during the winter. This gave us yet
another opportunity to meet coaches and athletes
throughout the season. Usually in mid-August the various fall sports varsity teams would begin to appear on
the track for pre-season conditioning. Usually first in
the morning would appear “the dawn patrol,” those
football players who were required to run a couple of
miles at 6:30 am, under the supervision of some very
sleepy assistant coaches or trainers. Usually these were
players who had not met certain standards such as
weight loss or a given two-mile time. But sometimes
there were also injured players, the walking wounded,
who struggled around the track a few laps. Cruel and
unusual punishment? No. Just football.
Later in the morning, we would see other teams
running laps together. Once, very early when it was
still dark, we came across a body lying on the track. As
we approached, worried about what we might find, up
jumped a sleepy basketball player to explain that her
alarm had gone off an hour early by mistake, so she had
just decided to get another hour of sleep, right in the
middle of the track! Well, it was a very soft track.
Jogging indoors was even more of a spectator sport,
since generally there were lots of athletes working out.
The women’s crew had an array of rowing machines,
which they would use in unison, generally to very loud
rock music. Then they would run timed laps around the
track. Sometimes there were track or cross-country athletes, although they would generally only warm up indoors and then go out into the dark cold for longer runs.
In the winter term, the ROTC units would appear very
early in the morning for workouts: first, loud exercises,
then timed runs around the track, coupled with various
exercises such as rope climbs or bar pull-ups along the
way. The marines were the most enthusiastic, wearing
T-shirts proclaiming “Sempter Fi” as they lapped everyone. In fact, one year they even gave me my own
T-shirt so I could run along with them, although after
a lap or two, I gave up. However their spirit and teamwork was infectious, and something our athletic teams
admired.

Signs of Strain
Michigan’s athletics achievements during the
Schembechler, Weidenbach, and Roberson years were
both stunning and unprecedented. For the first time,
Michigan began to compete at the national level in all
its twenty-three varsity programs, as evidenced by the
fact that it finished each year among the top institutions
nationwide for the national all-sports championship
(the Sears Trophy). During these years, Michigan
went to five Rose Bowls (football), three Final Fours–
including a NCAA championship (men’s basketball),
four hockey Frozen Fours (ice hockey) and a national
championship, won over 50 Big Ten championships,
dominated the Big Ten in men’s and women’s swimming
(including winning the NCAA championship), men’s
and women’s cross-country, women’s gymnastics,
men’s and women’s track, and women’s softball. And
it provided some of the most exciting moments in
Michigan’s proud sports tradition–Desmond Howard’s
Heisman Trophy, Steve Fisher’s NCAA championship,
the Fab Five, Mike Barrowman’s Olympic gold medal,
Tom Dolan’s national swimming championships, and
on and on.
The success and integrity of Michigan’s athletics
programs, coupled with their extraordinary popularity
through both the electronic and print media, positioned
Michigan as the model for college sports. The Michigan
insignia dominated the sales of athletic apparel worldwide and eventually led to a controversial marketing
agreement with Nike which later set the standard for
similar agreements in the years to come with other
leading universities.
Yet at another level, the increasing public exposure
of Michigan athletics was causing serious strains. Each
misstep by a student-athlete or a coach, the inevitable
defeats that characterize every leading program,
resulted in a torrent of media coverage. Rare was the
month when a Michigan athlete or coach was not being
either celebrated or attacked by the media. The coaches,
particularly in the more visible programs, came under
increasing pressure from both the media and the fans,
which had developed an insatiable appetite for success.
The heightened public visibility of Michigan
athletics, particularly in the marquee sports of
football and men’s basketball, accompanied by the

132
ever-increasing expectations on the part of Michigan
fans put great pressure on both coaches and players
alike. After five Big Ten championships in a row–and
the entrance of Penn State into the conference–the
football team experienced a series of mediocre seasons
(although “mediocre” for Michigan means an 8 and
4 season, with only a secondary bowl appearance).
Although Steve Fisher managed to continue to recruit
top basketball talent after the Fab Five, his teams never
were able to win the Big Ten championship or return to
the Final Four. The sports media, which had been strong
Michigan boosters during the championship years,
were now viciously critical of these same programs and
coaches as they struggled through mediocre seasons.
The stresses on Gary Moeller finally became
unbearable for him. I remember the incident well,
because it occurred the weekend of the Spring
Commencement. I learned of it just after we had
returned from the Saturday commencement exercises,
memorable in part because three of the Fab Five, Jimmy
King, Ray Jackson, Juwan Howard, were in cap-andgown. Within minutes of our return, the phone rang,
and sports information director Bruce Madej told me,
“Coach Moeller is in trouble.” An understatement. The
night before Gary had had too much to drink at a local
Detroit restaurant, becoming unruly and getting into a
tussle with several police officers who were attempting
to restrain him and get him in a car headed home. The
media coverage was intense, even more so when the
police released an audio tape capturing Gary’s behavior
in full. After a few days, it became apparent that Gary
needed at least a temporary respite from the pressures
as UM football head coach. Both Joe Roberson and I
tried to convince him that he should take a leave, get
some help for the obvious stress he was under, but stay
with the program. However, Gary’s pride would not let
him take this route, and he announced his intention to
step down.
Another one of the coaches who lived in the
limelight was Steve Fisher. Steve had first burst onto
the scene in the Cinderella story of winning the NCAA
championship as a substitute coach following Bill
Frieder’s departure for Arizona State. Steve had a way
with the media with his folksy, sincere, Midwestern
style. And, while there were always a cadre of sports
writers out to prove that Steve did not belong at the

helm of Michigan basketball, Steve’s skill in recruiting
and his game coaching got Michigan back to the
Final Four two more times. Of course, both of these
experiences were with the Fab Five, probably the
most precocious and certainly the most flamboyant
basketball team in Michigan history. The very audacity
of the team gave Steve years of headaches. Sports
writers were continually after the team, trying to
criticize the player’s character, their backgrounds, their
style of play–but never their raw talent.
As the team quickly unraveled in the face of NBA
opportunities, Michigan basketball fell on hard times.
Although Steve continued to recruit top talent, the
team never rose to a level sufficient for fans and sports
writers. Again, the pressure on Steve and Angie Fisher
was intense. It reached a climax in a sensational series
of newspaper articles claiming that, unknown to Fisher,
a Detroit booster had been slipping cash to several of
Michigan’s players over the years. The University was
pressured to hire a top-flight law firm, specializing in
intercollegiate athletics, to investigate the allegations.
The firm was unable to substantiate any of the claims,
although they were also unable to completely disprove
them, leaving Steve and the program in limbo. Hence,
in early fall of 1997, just prior to the start of basketball
season, a new athletic director, Tom Goss, fired Steve
Fisher, although without any evidence of wrongdoing.
It was only several years later that an indictment of
a Detroit gambler, Eddie Martin, revealed that he had
loaned Chris Webber and two later Michigan players
substantial funds, presumably to be paid back from
their later professional careers. Although there was no
evidence that any of the Michigan athletics staff were
involved or aware of this, a new administration decided
to penalize the program by stripping away their NCAA
banners and forfeiting their records, despite the fact that
only one member of the Fab Five had been involved.

Concluding Remarks
We found our personal involvement with the
students, coaches, and staff of the athletics programs
a refreshing alternative to other presidential roles both
within and external to the University. During our
latter years, students and coaches from various sports
began to attend and cheer on their friends in other

133
programs. This was particularly evident as more and
more male athletes began to attend the athletic events
for Michigan’s emerging women’s programs.
Jack Weidenbach, athletics director during the early
1990s, once confided to me that his job was the best
in the University because he had the opportunity to
work with such outstanding students. Although the
media tends to portray college athletes as academically
marginal, in reality, across all the programs, most
student-athletes are outstanding students, performing
at the highest level both in the classroom and on the field,
the court, or in the pool. The model of the true studentathlete is alive and well in most of college sports, in
programs such as swimming, hockey, gymnastics, and
track where students train to world-class levels while
excelling in some of Michigan’s most difficult academic
programs. I once asked one of the women swimmers
how she managed to train for several hours a day while
pursuing an intense pre-med academic program. She
said the secret was “power napping,” the ability to use
odd moments of time to catch up on sleep-debt. Talk
about optimizing one’s time…
Jack was right about his job. But Anne and I would
go beyond the students to highlight the coaches and
athletics staff as well. While the coaches had to manage
highly competitive athletics programs, recruiting star
athletes, developing game strategies, and dealing with
the media, their most important roles were as teachers.
Even a cursory involvement with college sports soon
reveals that successful coaches demonstrate a deep
commitment toward their student-athletes, developing
relationships that remain strong for a lifetime. We
always found the coaches concern for the total
welfare of their students, beyond simply their athletic
performance, quite remarkable.
It is this perspective, of college athletes as students
and of coaches as teachers, that most clearly reveals
the true goal of college sports. At its best, college
athletics provide an opportunity for students to learn
and develop more fully the values necessary for a
meaningful life, values such as determination, sacrifice,
courage, and teamwork, perhaps more easily learned
through athletic competition than in the classroom.
Nothing could be more important to college sports
than aligning college sports with the academic mission
of the university.

Oh, yes. There is one more postscript!

134

Chapter 10

Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous

One of the most fascinating aspects of a major
university presidency involves the people that one
meets...and, indeed, hosts on behalf of the University.
During our presidency, we entertained several U.S.
presidents, numerous distinguished guests from the
academy, corporate leaders, celebrities, and even a god.
The responsibility for creating, designing, managing,
and hosting hundreds of presidential events each year
fell to Anne as First Lady of the University. Fortunately,
her experience both as a leader of the Faculty Women’s
Club and as “deanette” and “provostess” prepared
her for these roles. Nevertheless it was a considerable
challenge, after over a year of transition, to upgrade the
quality of events while reducing their costs. It was also
a challenge to change the expectations for the role of
the president and first lady in these events. During the

transition period, the development staff had essentially
taken over total control of events in both the President’s
House and Inglis House. The president and first lady
were expected to appear to host events, to greet guests,
and to make a few remarks, but they were not included
in the planning or design of the events themselves.
Yet Anne believed since that image of the University–
not to mention the president–would be influenced by
the quality of the event, it was important that the hosts,
the president and first lady, be involved in key details
of the event. Direct intervention would be necessary
to raise the quality of the presidential events. She also
realized that by raising the expectations for quality at
the presidential level, there would be a cascade effect
in which other events throughout the University would
develop higher quality standards.

135

Faculty Women’s Club Luncheon (1988)

The dining room of the President’s House (1988)

A Casual Get-Together after Commencement (1988)

Inauguration Reception (1988)

The President’s House
The first image that many distinguished visitors
to the University have is the President’s House. As
noted in earlier chapters, Anne spent very considerable
time in renovating and restoring this house, the oldest
building on the campus. While perhaps a difficult place
to live, the house was a very impressive place to visit.
Usually on special occasions, we would fly flags at
the front door to greet guests. In the front entryway,
guests were sometimes invited to sign the guest book,
although usually this would occur at the end of the
event. At large receptions or events, the guest book
would be placed in one of the side rooms. A quick
glance through the book indicates the remarkable
variety of guests to the President’s House.

The President’s House was very large, 14,000 square
feet, but it was also very constrained in the types of
events it could accommodate. By using the entire
first floor area, receptions of up to 200 people could
be hosted, typical of holiday receptions and student
receptions. However, the layout of the house limited
formal dining events to groups of 18 in the dining
room, with perhaps an additional 10 on the rear dining
porch for less formal occasions. Usually, when Anne
and I entertained a group for dinner, we would greet
each guest at the door and usher them into the living
room for refreshments and conversation.
Dinner would be served in the formal dining room,
with the two of us typically seated at the center of the
table so that we could interact with as many guests
as possible. After dinner, the group would be invited

136

Ready for guests in the President’s House

Entertaining presidents, governors, and even coaches.

Judi Dinesen and Anne

Inge Roncoli and Kurt Szalay

into the living room for more conversation. Finally, we
would accompany guests to the door to wish them on
their way.
This sounds simple, but the logistics of these events
were usually far more complex. Each event took a great
deal of planning and preparation, from invitations to
menus and caterers to preparation of the house. Since
Anne believed that our guests were being invited to our
home, she gave each event her special attention.
There were always some special challenges. Parking
was always a real problem in the Central Campus
area. Although we usually arranged for parking on
South University in front of the President’s House, if
the permits were put up too early, students rapidly
filled up the street. During times of student unrest, the
President’s House was also a prime target for student

demonstrations, particularly if an event was underway.
The large receptions were also a particular challenge,
since among the crowds of a hundred or more, there
would sometimes be uninvited guests that floated in
with the crowd. We always tried to be gracious in these
situations, but it could sometimes be awkward.
After each event, Anne would stay downstairs,
working with the catering staff, until the house had
been cleaned and everything had been put away.
Needless to say, most events in the President’s House
led to very late evenings for her.
Hosting events in Inglis House was a far easier
matter. Although these events took just as much
personal planning and preparation, since they were
not in our home, we could limit our participation. We
would usually arrive 30 minutes or so before the first

137
guests, to check the preparations, table settings, and
other details. We would host the event as if the guests
had been invited to our home (as, indeed, Inglis House
was originally intended to be). After the last guest
left, Anne would check with the staff to make certain
everything was in order, and then leave to return to the
President’s House.
A word here about entertaining Regents in both the
President’s House and Inglis House: Although Inglis
House was usually reserved for Regent activities during
the week of a Regents meeting–both to accommodate
regents traveling from farther distances and the
Thursday evening dinner–there was always a bit of
sensitivity. Several of the regents developed a personal
sense of ownership for the estate, occasionally insisting
that the University put their family up in its rooms or
host parties for their personal friends. This was always
a delicate matter, since while the Regents were indeed
the governing board of the University and technically
could demand such services, the risk to the University–
and the Regents–could be significant if it was learned
that they were using University facilities and staff for
personal activities. Since we believed that the president
might also be subject to such criticism, in our eight
years in the presidency, we never utilized Inglis House
for personal purposes.
Interestingly enough, several of the Regents had the
same attitude about the President’s House. In fact, early
in my presidency I had to put my foot down when two
Regents insisted that they be served breakfast in the
President’s House each morning before the monthly
Regents meeting. Since the house had no cook, this
would have meant that Anne would have had to cater
and host these events. From time to time, one Regent or
another would demand that a special event be hosted
in the President’s House, regardless of the overload this
would cause on its occupants.
Hence, even though the President’s House was
intended to be the home for the family of the president,
both the needs of the University and the demands of
its governing board frequently made it more a place of
servitude.

VIPs in the House
The President’s House was also an important place

for University ceremonies. Here we hosted numerous
dinners and receptions for distinguished guests of the
University. For example, the evening before Michigan
retired Gerald Ford’s football jersey number, we had
a small dinner for President and Mrs. Ford, attended
by Governor John Engler and the real celebrities, Bo
Schembechler and Steve Fisher.
We occasionally had luncheons and dinners to honor
or cultivate important donors, including many leading
corporate CEOs. From time to time we would also have
small, informal dinners, such as when we invited John
Engler down to Ann Arbor just for a get-acquainted
visit prior to his run for the governorship.
We also had visits from numerous celebrities. For
example, we had a reception for Leonard Bernstein
following his “70th birthday concert” with the Vienna
Philharmonic. Bernstein would only agree to a post
concert reception on the condition that it would be a
small affair with about 30 students. Anne was just
recovering from bronchitis and a hacking cough that
prevented her from attending the concert. However
she was on hand to host the reception at the President’s
House. The guests, mostly from the School of Music’s
conducting program, began to arrive around 11:00 pm.
Bernstein held court for a bit backstage after the concert
and kept inviting people to the reception, and the guest
list grew to about 60. Anne ended up pulling everything
she could find out of the freezer and cupboards to feed
the extra guests.
Bernstein didn’t arrive until 12:30, and after a
couple of large Scotches, he warmed up to the students
(who were drinking punch, of course). At one point
he went to the piano and began to play some of his
Broadway compositions, singing along with lyrics a bit
more bawdy than one is used to hearing. At about 2:30,
Bernstein decided to go out on the town, and off he
went, followed by a dozen students, looking for a bar.
We hosted a number of other musical performers.
After a May Festival concert featuring the Leipzig
Gewandhaus Orchestra, we hosted a reception and
presented its conductor, Kurt Mazur, with both a
sweatshirt and a basketball from the recent NCAA
championship.
Many celebrities were key volunteers for the
Campaign for Michigan. Mike Wallace agreed to be
one of the co-chairs of the Campaign, and he played

138

From left to right: Kurt Masur, , James Galway, Leonard Bernstein, Andre Previn, James Earl Jones, Leonard Bernstein with Students, Jonas Salk, Hillary Clinton, President Clinton, President and Mrs. Ford, Bill Cosby, the “60
Minutes” crew, Mike Wallace, Charles Moore,Toni Morrison, William Seidman, and Joyce Carol Oates.

139

Tea with His Holiness, the Dalai Lama, at the President’s House.

140
a critical role not only in the New York fund-raising
efforts, but also in hosting the major kickoff events for
the Campaign. He also made a tremendous contribution
to fund the residence housing the Michigan Journalism
Fellows program, named Mike and Mary Wallace
House.
James Earl Jones was an important leader of the
efforts on behalf of Michigan’s School of Music, while
the Countess Albina Duboisvouvray and Margaret
Towsley were among the most generous donors.
In 1994, the University had the privilege of hosting
Dr. Jonas Salk, in recognition of the 40th anniversary
of the announcement of the successful tests of the Salk
vaccine. Many of Salk’s former collaborators visited the
campus for the event, sponsored in part by the March
of Dimes, along with a large number of polio survivors.
One of the more interesting events hosted in the
President’s House was a reception for the Dalai Lama,
who was visiting the campus to receive the Wallenberg
Medal. Of course, the Dalai Lama is the most revered
figure in Tibetan Buddhism, regarded by the faithful
as the 14th reincarnation of Siddartha and as a living
god. This visit was particularly meaningful to us, since
the year before we had led a delegation of alumni
and faculty to China and arranged to spend several
days in Tibet on the trip. We had seen first-hand the
extraordinary importance of the Dalai Lama. Yet even
with this background, we were still overwhelmed
by his humble, kind, and humorous nature–and his
wisdom, of course.
The visit itself required some careful planning,
since the Dalai Lama does not eat or drink after noon.
Anne arranged for a small “tea ceremony” offering a
choice of tea or hot water, so that we could first meet
and chat with His Holiness for several minutes before
introducing him to the many guests. He was charming,
and the discussions ranged from theoretical physics to
Tibetan flowers.
He presented us with the traditional Tibetan silk
scarves, and then, after a receiving line, Jim rode with
him to Crisler Arena for the Wallenberg Lecture. It was
quite an occasion.

Presidential Commencements
Because of Michigan’s prominence as an institution,

not a year passed without numerous “command
performance” events, involving distinguished visitors.
Many of these involved commencements in which the
University awards honorary degrees to famous leaders.
On some occasions, these took on national importance,
such as when the University gave honorary degrees to
President George H.W. Bush and Barbara Bush and to
First Lady Hillary Clinton. In both cases, the honorees
actually spent only a short time on campus–arriving
just before and leaving just after the commencement
ceremony. However, preparing even for this short visit
was a Herculean task.
The Bush Commencement was a particular challenge.
The University routinely invited sitting presidents of
the United States to deliver commencement addresses,
but since so many other universities did the same, we
rarely received a positive response. In fact, in modern
times the only other “presidential” commencements
were Lyndon Johnson’s “Great Society” speech in 1964
and Gerald Ford’s speech in the late 1970s. However,
in March, 1992, the day after the president addressed
Congress to signal the end of the Gulf war, I received
a call from the White House saying that President and
Mrs. Bush would be delighted to receive a honorary
degree and that the President would also give the
commencement address.
Beyond the fact that this was less than 60 days prior to
the commencement, Michigan faced another challenge.
The only venue large enough to accommodate such a
presidential commencement was Michigan Stadium,
and it was in the midst of a massive renovation. In fact,
the University was in the process of installing natural
turf and lowering the field by eight feet to improve
sight lines. At the time of the White House call, the field
was a large hole in the ground.
But University staff stepped forward as if this were
their own version of Operation Desert Storm. They
ordered enough plyboard to cover the field, and with
the efforts of thousands of people, managed to have
the stadium ready by the May commencement. The
security logistics were also complex, since Secret Service
folks took over Ann Arbor a couple of weeks before
the event. Ironically, there was an incident the week
before commencement in which a disturbed former
employee methodically shot out all the windows of
the Fleming Building with an M-15 assault rifle in the

141

A Presidential Commencement: Awarding an honorary degree to President and Mrs. Bush

142
middle of the night, just missing a security guard. But
the Secret Service concluded that this was a random
event unrelated to the president’s visit and allowed us
to proceed.
The commencement itself was quite an event. Over
70,000 attended, under blue skies. (When the White
House staff was asked what to do in the event of rain,
they responded with “He gets wet...and YOU get
wet!”...)
Everything went as planned, and we all breathed
a sigh of relief as the presidential cavalcade drove
off afterwards. However, later that afternoon after
President Bush returned to Camp David, he went for
a short jog and experienced heart palpitations–the first
sign of what was later diagnosed as Graves syndrome.
Ironically enough, when he gave the Michigan
commencement address his popularity, following the
Gulf War, was at an incredible 92%.
The University was well experienced for such
command performances when Hillary Clinton accepted
Michigan’s invitation in 1995. Again it was a marvelous
day with 50,000 in attendance. When the First Lady
approached the podium and saw the size of the crowd,
she soon set aside her prepared remarks and gave one
of her campaign trail talks on health care reform and
other issues of the administration. But the students
loved it, and again everything was a success.
Commencements were always a three-ring circus–
make that a 17-ring circus, since each of Michigan’s many
schools and colleges also had individual ceremonies,
frequently with their own distinguished speakers.
Anne and I usually hosted a luncheon or dinner just
prior to the spring and winter commencements for the
honorary degree recipients. During our presidency, we
had the opportunity to honor–and to meet–some of the
great figures of our times.
There were a variety of other presidential experiences
of note. Periodically the Gerald Ford Library would
host a major policy seminar, sometimes in cooperation
with the Carter Center in Atlanta.

Dining with the Queen
Actually, there were occasionally pleasant surprises
and enjoyable experiences associated with being the
president of a major university. Anne and I had such an

experience in spring of 1990, just after we had honored
President and Mrs. Bush at Spring Commencement.
We were attending a National Science Board meeting
in Washington, just prior to traveling on to Boston for the
inauguration of our friend and former provost, Chuck
Vest, as president of MIT. My secretary, Nona Mustard,
called the hotel to inform us that the White House had
called Ann Arbor with an invitation to dinner with the
Queen and Prince Philip the following Tuesday. My
first response: “What queen? THE queen?” “Yes.” Anne
asked, “What do we wear?” Nona said that the copy of
the invitation the White House faxed her said “Black
tie with decorations”...Wow!...(Nona was a Scot, so she
was not impressed...)
We both decided that this was truly a command
performance, so we asked Nona to pull together
whatever information she could on protocol at such
state affairs. We also realized that we were probably
substitute invitees. The state dinner with the Queen
was the hottest ticket of the year in Washington, and to
be invited with less than a week remaining meant that
someone else had canceled out (...probably Secretary of
State James Baker who was on an emergency trip to the
Middle East...), and we had been substituted in part out
of appreciation for the Spring Commencement.
The next challenge was dress. Jim’s part was easy.
He did have a black tie–but no decorations. Anne’s was
more difficult, since this affair required a floor length
evening gown–not part of the normal president’s
spouse wardrobe. This was made more difficult by the
fact that we were headed up to Boston for Chuck Vest’s
inauguration and would not be back in Ann Arbor until
Sunday. But surely Boston must have places where one
could find such a gown.
While we went on to Boston, Nona began to gather
protocol material. For example, when greeting the
Queen, you never look at her unless she looks at you.
You address her with “Your majesty”...and the Prince
with “Your royal highness”.
The MIT inauguration was fun, with lots of Michigan
folks in attendance. In fact, someone (they blamed me,
but I hadn’t been so imaginative) hung an enormous
banner over one of MIT’s buildings overlooking the
inauguration reception saying “The University of
Michigan at Cambridge”.
All of the Boston bigwigs were there–Ted Kennedy,

143

From MIT’s inauguration of Chuck Vest to a state dinner with the Queen and President Bush

144
Bill Weld–since, as the Vests were told later, they were
essentially being coronated as “the king and queen of
Boston”.
The next day Anne and I started our shopping
rounds for the evening gown. After trying several of the
more obvious places–Nieman Marcus, Saks, etc.–we
finally found a small dress shop in Copley Place that
had a gown that Anne thought would work. However,
like most evening gowns, it would require extensive
alternation, and the shop said we could have it ready
in a couple of weeks. Anne explained the situation, the
royal affair just four days away, and that we would
be leaving for Ann Arbor early Sunday morning.
Amazingly enough, the store believed us and said that
we would have the dress ready the next morning. And
sure enough, they kept the schedule, Anne picked up
the dress (and the bill--which was a bit of a shock to one
who primarily shopped with the Lands End catalog),
and headed back to Michigan.
The next couple of days were spent reviewing
whatever we could find out about protocol and such.
I had a prior commitment to speak at a Detroit Alumni
Club luncheon on Tuesday, so we were not able to
fly down to Washington until that afternoon. As we
boarded the plane, whom should Anne spot in the first
class section but Governor John Engler and his wife
Michelle. She started to say, “Are you going to...” and
they said, “Yes, would you like to ride along with us?
We have a limousine.”
That solved the next problem. Although we were
staying at the J. W. Marriott, only two blocks from the
White House, attending such an affair requires making
a certain entrance. Somehow it didn’t seem right
just walking up the drive to the West Wing entrance.
Fortunately, the Englers had experience, and they had
already arranged for the use of a limousine. They were
staying in the same hotel, so this made it rather easy.
So at 6:30, off we went, in black tie (but without
any decorations) and expensive evening gown,
accompanying the Governor in his limo, to meet the
Queen! After being checked through security, we
entered the lower area of the West Wing and walked
down the corridor. When we turned the corner, we ran
into a large group of newspaper photographers who
had been stationed to capture the famous. They started
flashing away, but we soon realized it was not for us

but rather Henry Kissinger who was right behind us.
As we passed up the stairs to the East Room, a White
House attaché handed each guest a dining card with
their table number.
The other guests were gathering in the East Room,
a large stately room designed for such occasions. There
were roughly 100 people already gathered in the room.
There were no nametags, but looking about the room
we soon realized why. Everyone there--except the
two of us–really needed no identification. We began
to look around the room and whisper to each other
“Isn’t that?”... and usually it was. It was a very eclectic
collection of folks. Since the state dinner was billed
in part as an opportunity for the Queen to honor the
leaders of the recently completed Operation Desert
Storm victory, there were several military leaders such
as Generals Colin Powell and Norman Schwarzkopf.
There were also a number of political leaders and
Washington types–Speaker Tom Foley, the Governors
of Michigan and Ohio, Henry Kissinger. Also present
were several corporate CEOs–Red Poling of Ford and
John Akers of IBM. The usual group of Hollywood
figures were also there, e.g., Morgan Freeman, Bill
Blass, and Jesse Norman. And then some interesting
new folks like Ken Burns, a former graduate of Pioneer
High whose documentary on the Civil War had just
appeared on television. We appeared to be the only
university folks.
At precisely 7 pm, the doors opened, Ruffles and
Flourishes was played, and the President and the
Queen entered the room, followed by Mrs. Bush and
Prince Philip. They quickly formed a receiving line,
and everyone marched dutifully by with their carefully
rehearsed “Your majesty” and “Your royal highness”.
After the receiving line, the guests were then subtly
herded down the hall to the state dining room.
Here there was a bit of surprise. The room was set
with round tables of 8 to 10 guests, and Anne and I
were each assigned to separate tables. I looked across
the room and saw Anne motioning toward me. At first
I thought something might be wrong with Anne’s dress
(a typical male reaction). But instead, she walked over
and said “I’m sitting at the table with the Queen and
the President!”
When she had arrived at her table, she was first
puzzled since there appeared to be no other guests.

145
Then, as she walked around the table looking at place
cards, she realized why. Her table was indeed the
“Royal Table”, with President Bush, the Queen, and
then an array of guests including Arthur Annenberg,
Angela Lansbury, and such. Anne was seated between
Red Poling, CEO of Ford, and Arnold Palmer, directly
across from the Queen! (Although she noted that
the very large floral centerpiece prevented her from
speaking directly to Her Majesty, even if it would have
been allowable.)
The dinner itself was in the Washington style, with
each course served from large silver trays, enjoyable,
particularly, since at Jim’s table there was one of the
Queen’s Ladies in Waiting who had a very relaxed and
irreverent attitude toward such state occasions. Anne
got a bit weary talking to Arnold Palmer about golf, but
being seated with the President of the United States and
the Queen of England kept the adrenaline levels high.
The last course was an elegant royal carriage made of
chocolate and filled with pistachio marguise. Anne’s
head table ate their served portion of the marguise, but
my table devoured the entire chocolate carriage.
After dinner the guests were escorted back to the
East Room, which had been set up for a concert by Jesse
Norman. We sat with the Governor of Ohio and talked
about–what else–Michigan vs. Ohio State football!
Following the concert, the guests gathered in the hall
corridor to talk and listen to the Marine Corps orchestra,
and then at roughly 10:00 pm, all of the guests were
politely herded along to the exit and their cars.
The next day we flew back to Ann Arbor, to resume
life as commoners. We did manage to make the list
of guests printed in the New York Times, and the
responses were predictable. Many of our presidential
colleagues wondered why they had invited the
president from MICHIGAN...and not Harvard or Yale.
One of the Regents sent me a letter offering us the use
of his fashion consultant, so that we could develop a
wardrobe suitable for such occasions.
But the Duderstadts returned to life as normal, at
the bottom of the heap that represents the place of the
president at a major university...

146

President to president:
Gerald Ford, Jimmy Carter, George Bush, Bill Clinton, and two national championship presidential ceremonies.

147

Chapter 11

If This Is Tuesday, We Must Be...Where?
There are times in a president’s life when one begins
to feel as if each morning, when arriving at the office,
the drill is to be handed an airline ticket and told that
the car to the airport is waiting. To be sure, travel is no
stranger to university presidents and their spouses.
Whether it is fund-raising, or visiting alumni, or
attending meetings, or simply flying the flag, the life of
a president is always on the go.
I once suggested the hypothesis that there were, in
reality, only about 500 people who traveled all the time.
They always ran into each other at airports. And half
were university presidents.
One good measure of travel mileage is platinum
card customer status with airlines, generally 75,000
miles or more each year. I once earned this status simply
traveling back and forth to Washington for National
Science Board meetings (about 75 round trips worth!).

All In The Family...
One of the roles of the president and spouse is to
serve as the official representatives of the institution
for numerous organizations. Since the University of
Michigan is generally regarded as a leader of public
higher education in America (just as Harvard is regarded
as the leader of private higher education), Anne and I
generally were expected to play a significant leadership
role in many of these organizations. While this
provided us with many opportunities, it also imposed
very significant responsibilities and time commitments
on the president. Such was life…
The Association of American Universities (AAU):
This is the most important of the higher education

associations, since it is a presidents/spouses only
organization representing the top 60 research
universities in the nation (and Canada). Since both
presidents and spouses are involved together in its
activities, it is also a very important mechanism in
building personal relationships among the leaders of
various universities.
AAU meets twice each year, on a university campus
in the fall and in Washington in the spring. The fall
meeting is probably the more interesting, since it gives
one the experience of seeing other campuses. By late
spring, when the Washington meeting occurs, most of
the presidents and spouses are so tired and stressed
out that not much gets accomplished–except for seeing
who has managed to survive another year.
Since the fall meeting rotates among universities,
the odds of it landing on one’s own campus are small.
But, as it happened, Harold Shapiro had volunteered
Michigan as the site for the AAU fall meeting before
he left for Princeton. Hence, in only our second year of
the presidency, we found ourselves hosting the AAU
presidents. We had our AAU baptism-by-fire rather
early. A bit scary for a new presidential team to know
that the presidents and first spouses of the nation’s
top universities will be visiting one’s campus and
inspecting everything you do...
Fortunately, the AAU meeting hit a time when the
students were relatively well behaved, the weather
was perfect, and everything came off on schedule. The
University appeared at its best. The first night’s dinner
was in the Law Club, and Joan Morris and Bill Bolcum
provided the entertainment...complete with an encore
of “Marshmallow Lime Jello Surprise”. The next night,
a special treat was arranged for the group. The dinner
was held in the reading room of the Rackham School of

148

The Great Hall of the Rackham School of Graduate Studies contains on its walls
the seals of the founding members of the Association of American Universities.
Graduate Studies, which was noted for having the seals
of each of the founding members of AAU on its walls.
All in all, it was a good show–and very important to
convey a sense of the momentum of the University to
others.
During my presidency we were entertained
in similar ways at many other campuses--Tulane,
Penn, Washington, Colorado, North Carolina/Duke,
Indiana-–but Michigan still stands out.
While the AAU meetings dealt with some important
issues, their real value was to provide an opportunity
for informal discussions of the trials and tribulations
of higher education and to build a network among the
presidents. Since the AAU was very concerned with
research funding and policies, my role as chair of the
National Science Board always kept me very involved
in their activities.
Perhaps the only disconcerting aspect of the AAU
was their tradition of publishing each year the names
of the 60 presidents, ranked by longevity. The turnover
in this group was quite extraordinary. By the time we
stepped down, I ranked 8th in seniority among the
AAU presidents. Furthermore, there were only three
presidents left who had served more than 10 years.
National Association of State Universities and
Land Grant Colleges (NASULGC)…Now renamed
the Association of Public and Land-Grant Universities
(APLU)

This is the primary association of major public
universities, with roughly 130 members. However,
this involves many smaller institutions that are not
UMAA peers. Furthermore, unlike the AAU, which
was a presidents’ organization, NASULGC had strong
participation by deans and others. Michigan has never
given it the same priority as AAU. (Indeed, during
the dark days of budget cuts, Harold Shapiro even
considered withdrawing, which would have been a
big mistake.) Since I felt it important for UM to stay
involved and step up to leadership from time to time,
Anne and I maintained some level of involvement.
Furthermore I headed up its federal relations effort
(with Tom Butts’ able help) and had a good working
relationship with the President, Peter McGrath (now
led by Peter McPherson, former president of Michigan
State University, and also a good friend).
Its meetings were generally in the convention
mode, more like three-ring circuses than the smaller,
more intimate affairs of AAU. Hence we never really
developed a particular attachment to the organization.
The Big Ten Council of Presidents
Although the Big Ten is generally thought of as an
athletic conference, the organization also links together
its members (including the University of Chicago) as
an academic association. The Council of Presidents
tends to spend most of its time as the Board of Directors
of the Big 10 Conference, Inc. The Council members

149
generally met for two-day meetings each December, in
the bitter cold of Chicago, and then in early June on the
sweltering campus of one of their member universities.
Although spouses sometimes participated in the June
meeting, there was not the strong camaraderie of AAU.
Since the Council of Presidents is legally a Board of
Directors, it has frequent meetings, usually in Chicago
or in conjunction with AAU meetings. It also relies
extensively on teleconferencing.
Like the AAU, the leadership of the Conference is
determined by seniority, with the senior president in
the conference serving as chair of the board. In my last
year as president at Michigan, I was also chair of the
board of directors of the Big Ten. It perhaps is also a
sign of the times that after my eight years of service,
only President Steve Beering at Purdue had served
longer. In fact, there were no other presidents in the Big
Ten who had served even five years. The casualty rate
was unusually high.
The Business Higher Education Forum
This organization, founded by the American Council
on Education, consisted of 40 presidents and 40 CEOs of
major corporations. It met twice each year for three-day
meetings, usually in Arizona or California in January
and somewhere in the US or Europe in June. It was
also an organization that involved spouses as well, so
its meetings could be both informative and enjoyable.
It also provided an opportunity to build important
relationships with business leaders.
The problem was simply timing. The winter meeting
generally occurred during the last week in January–a
very busy time in higher education. Although it was
generally held at the Ventana Canyon Resort in the
mountains above Tucson, folks were always on the go.
However there were some interesting memories.
One of the more interesting dinners was held at the
infamous Biosphere II, with Art Buchwald as the
speaker, no less. The tour of the Biosphere, led by the
“biosphereans” themselves just prior to their being
sealed in for a year’s habitation, lasted a bit long, so
the group probably tried to make up for lost ground
too rapidly at the cocktail hour. All it all, it was a rather
irreverent dinner.
The summer meeting generally occurred the same

week in June as the Tanner Group, so we rarely could
make it. The exception was an unusual meeting held in
Brussels with the European counterpart of the Forum to
discuss the implications of the Common Market. Since
this landed back-to-back with the Tanner Meeting at
Oxford, we were able to do both and, over the weekend
between the two meetings, drove down to Paris to
experience the newly opened Paris Disneyland (a story
for another time...and another book...)
The Tanner Group
Perhaps the most interesting and enjoyable higher
education gathering was the Tanner Group. This group
consisted of the presidents and spouses of the leading
universities in the world: Harvard, Michigan, California,
Stanford, Yale, Princeton, Oxford, Cambridge...and
Utah (which was the home institution of the benefactor,
O. C. Tanner). The presidents/spouses serve formally
as trustees of the Tanner Trust, which sponsored
the Tanner Lectures on Human Values at each of the
institutions. They met for several days in late June, at
either university campuses or world-class resorts.
In many ways the Tanner Group was similar to
the AAU in being an organization of presidents and
spouses. However, because the group was so much
smaller, and the locations of the meetings more remote
(e.g., a Grand Hotel in Bellagio, the Mauna Kea Resort
in Hawaii, a great house near Oxford, a ski resort high
above Park City), there was more of an opportunity
for developing friendships and sharing the experience
of the presidency. Obert Tanner, his wife Grace, and
their daughter Carolyn watched over the group and
provided the bond that kept it together year after year.
Although the group’s primary responsibility was
to watch over the assets of the Tanner Trust and its
associated Lecture Series on Human Values, there were
many opportunities to get together to discuss important
issues facing higher education. The group usually tried
to set aside some time each meeting where presidents
and spouses could sit around the table and chat
informally with each other about trials and tribulations
of the modern university presidency, usually launched
with a question such as “Well, what kind of a year have
you had, anyway?”
Since the group included presidents such as

150

Meetings of the Tanner Group around the world

151
Donald Kennedy of Stanford, David Gardner of the
University of California, Chase Peterson of Utah, and
Neil Rudenstine of Harvard–all able leaders, but also
presidents who had faced extraordinary personal
challenges–the meetings were always very interesting–
and sometimes actually quite moving.
Alumni Trips
Like most alumni organizations, the University of
Michigan Alumni Association manages a very extensive
travel operation. Each year the UMAA sponsors 30 to 40
international tours for alumni. On each of these tours,
it is customary to invite a faculty or staff member to
serve both as host and as a source of information about
the University. It was also common for the Alumni
Association to invite senior administrators such as
deans or executive officers along on such trips, in part to
serve as University resources, but also to cultivate these
individuals. In fact, some deans and vice presidents end
up taking UMAA trip somewhere almost every year.
Unfortunately, we never had the opportunity
to participate in these activities while I was in the
Engineering Dean role. Oh, after a last minute
cancellation, we were invited to host a tour group to
Katmandu in the middle of the fall term on two weeks
notice (clearly impossible). But we never received a
serious invitation. Finally, when we had moved into the
provost role, we were invited personally by the director
to participate in Camp Michigania in Switzerland, a
favorite of the previous provost. We gladly accepted.
But, as noted earlier, this trip occurred just after I had
been elected as president of the University.
In the presidency, our schedule was so hectic that
we had no time to consider such trips. However, there
were two exceptions: a Michigan trip to China and an
alumni trip on the Rhine and the Danube to Hungary.
The China Odyssey
Although our trip to China in 1993 involved
an alumni group, it was organized apart from the
conventional UMAA travel packages. The intent was
to provide a number of key alumni with an in-depth
exposure to China and exceptional access to China’s
leaders and educational and cultural institutions,

which would result in a strong base of commitment
and support for the Center for Chinese Studies. Because
of the unusual nature of the trip and the high level of
anticipated interactions, it was felt important that the
president should be a member of this delegation. This
trip would represent the first time that the president of
the University visited China since President Shapiro’s
trip in 1981.
This trip was quite unlike anything we had
experienced before. It combined high-level visits with
government officials, interaction with the leaders
of Chinese universities, and major alumni outreach
activities. A number of alumni who had already made
significant gifts to the University were invited to
participate in a trip, which had been carefully arranged
by members of the Center for Chinese Studies, under
the direction of Professor Ken Lieberthal. Included
in the faculty group leading the trip were Leonard
Woodcock, Adjunct Professor and former Ambassador
to China, and Marshall Wu, Curator of Asian Art at
the University’s Museum of Art. The trip was quite
extraordinary, visiting a number of key cities including
Beijing, Xi’an, Shanghai, Changdu, and Lhasa, Tibet.
The arrangements associated with such an effort
were complex, and planning for the trip started over a
year earlier. Because there was last-minute capacity on
the trip, Anne and I decided to provide our daughters,
Susan and Kathy, with a belated graduation present by
inviting them on the trip as well. It was planned from
the beginning that the trip should be self-funded, and
all of the alumni involved were asked to pay not only
their own travel expenses, but also the travel costs
associated with the faculty leaders and development
support. We paid personally for the full cost of our
daughters, of course.
While the travel schedule demanded of a university
leader can be hectic, it did provide the opportunity
to visit some fascinating places, as the photographic
collages on the following pages demonstrate.

152

Meetings about the world…

153

China and Tibet 1993

154

Egypt and Petra

155

Barcelona

156

Japan, Nagoya, and Kyoto

157

France, Paris, and Giverny

158

France, Sarlat (Dordogne), Chenenceau, Villandry Gardens, Normandy & Utah Beach

159

France, Mont St Michel, Bayeux, Carcassone Citie, Roen, Honfleur & Rocamadour

160

England

161

England

162

Cambridge

163

Oxford

164

Venice

165

Florence & Rome Italy

166

Chapter 12

The Michigan Families
The contemporary university is much like a city,
comprised of a bewildering array of neighborhoods
and communities. To the faculty, it has almost a
feudal structure, divided up into highly specialized
academic units, frequently with little interaction even
with disciplinary neighbors, much less with the rest
of the campus. To the student body, the university is
an exciting, confusing, and sometimes frustrating
complexity of challenges and opportunities, rules and
regulations, drawing them together only in cosmic
events such as fall football games or campus protests.
To the staff, the University has a more subtle character,
with the parts woven together by policies, procedures,
and practices evolving over decades, all too frequently
invisible or ignored by the students and faculty.
In some ways, the modern university is so complex,
so multi-faceted, that it seems that the closer one is to it,
the more intimately one is involved with its activities,
the harder it is to understand its entirety. It is easy
to become lost in the forest for the trees. Clark Kerr
once portrayed the community of the multiversity as
connected only by a common concern for parking.
The University of Michigan is also a diverse
community of many families: faculty, staff, and
students; but also deans and executive officers and
office staff and former presidents. As president and first
lady, Anne and I were not only members of all of these
families, but we were also expected to support and
protect them, to understand their concerns and their
aspirations, and to advance their causes. Although the
diversity in needs and expectations pulled us in many
directions, it was these families, these people, who
made the University such a wonderful community
and sustained our efforts. This pastoral role is among
the most important and challenging, yet also the most
rewarding, aspects of university leadership.

Students
In the early days of American higher education,
many college presidents played a direct role in student
life, knowing each student by name and following
their progress, much as would the headmaster of
a preparatory academy. Yet from its earliest days,
Michigan’s presidents followed a different path. They
sought to build not simply a college but instead a great
university where faculty scholarship and professional
education would be placed on an equal footing with the
training and socialization of young adults. Both Henry
Tappan and James Angell were strongly opposed to such
college traditions as dormitories and rigid discipline.
They believed that students should be treated as adults,
living independently in the community, rather than
subjected to a common and carefully prescribed living
experience. Later attempts to impose the collegiate
model at Michigan, such as those by C. C. Little, met
fierce resistance from both faculty and students alike—
and continue to do so today.
Beyond this striking difference in educational
philosophy, the size and diversity of such large
universities as Michigan, with tens of thousands
of students spread across hundreds of different
disciplines and professional majors, dictates much
of the presidential role with respect to students.
Certainly, the president may have significant impact
on the student body through involvement in key
policy areas, such as admissions, student conduct, and
student extracurricular activities (including, of course,
intercollegiate athletics). But much of the president’s
direct interaction with students involves symbolic
activities—for example, presiding over such student
events as convocations, honors ceremonies, and, of
course, commencement.

167

Hosting student leaders at Inglis House.

A student tradition of stomping on the President

Some university presidents still attempt to teach a
regularly scheduled course and hold office hours for
students. Others maintain research programs—even
laboratories—and advise graduate students. Yet first as
provost and then as president, I soon became convinced
that the complexity, unpredictability, and importance
of presidential duties and responsibilities outweighed
any substantive or symbolic value to taking on the
additional burden of regularly scheduled courses
(although I did spend much of my time educating
legislators, trustees, alumni, and even the faculty on
the intricacies of the contemporary university). Instead,
I used other methods to keep in touch with students
and student issues, including regular visits as a guest
lecturer (sometimes unannounced) in a wide array of
undergraduate and graduate classes; frequent meals
with students in residence halls; regular meetings with
leaders of various student groups, such as student
government and the student newspaper; and a series
of events Anne would arrange at the President’s House
for various student groups throughout the university
year.
Although our calendar was always kept overloaded
by the usual responsibilities of the presidency,
University leadership, Washington and Lansing
representation, fund-raising, etc., Anne and I tried
to find opportunities to meet students and listen to
their concerns and their ideas. Usually at least once a
month we would have meals with students in residence
halls or attend their receptions. Although the days of
open student receptions in the President’s House had

long since ended in the face of unpredictable student
activism, we did host a large number of special events
for students: receptions for honor students, student
leaders, and student-athletes; dinners to honor special
accomplishments; graduation events, etc. One of
the most enjoyable events each year was an elegant
dinner hosted each summer at Inglis House for the
student leaders participating in Leadership 2017,
Maureen Hartford’s effort to build a sense of teamwork
throughout student organizations. Anne arranged the
reception in the Inglis House gardens and dinner so
that students were given the same treatment as wealthy
donor prospects. Afterwards we let them have the run
of Inglis House and then, by popular request, took a
series of pictures of the group (including what came to
the obligatory photo of students leaders trouncing on
the president.)
We also took a great deal of interest in other student
activities. For example, because of my role in the College
of Engineering, we worked with Michigan students
competing in the National Solar Car Race. On one
occasion, we traveled to the finish line in Minneapolis
to cheer Michigan on to victory!

Faculty
Of course, as members of the Michigan faculty
family for over three decades, it is not surprising
that we would give these members of the University
community high priority. In fact, during my
inauguration address, I began with the statement: “It is

168

Student events with the President and First Lady (the campus “mom and pop”)

169
sometimes said that great universities are run by their
faculties, for their faculties. Clearly the quality of our
institutions is determined by the quality of our faculty–
by their talents, their commitments, and their actions.”
The remarks above were addressed to the faculty of
the University of Michigan in a particularly heartfelt
manner. Unlike many university presidents these
days, I had spent my entire academic career as a
faculty member at the same institution where I was to
be installed as president. Hence, in a very real sense,
I regarded myself first and foremost as a member of
the Michigan faculty, on temporary assignment as
Michigan’s president. Anne, too, was a member of this
family, working for the University through various
faculty organizations such as the Faculty Women’s
Club for all of her years in Ann Arbor.
Most of our friends were part of this faculty
community. And most of our lives had been spent
toiling in its vineyards. The public—and, in fact, many
faculty members—tend to think of the faculty as a
homogenous group, all engaged in similar activities
of teaching and research, and all experiencing similar
stresses of publish or perish, tenure or out. Yet there
is as much diversity among faculty and their roles as
across any other aspect of American society.
For example, there are indeed many faculty members
in the “Mr. Chips” mode: dedicated classroom teachers,
working closely with their students and writing an
occasional scholarly paper. But contrast this with a
professor of surgery, with long hours devoted to patient
treatment and care, engaged in ongoing efforts to
attract the research sponsorship to support a laboratory
and students, with teaching in a one-on-one mode the
next generation of medical students and surgeons, and
perhaps trying to start a spin-off company to develop
a new piece of medical technology. Or the professor of
violin, working one day with students and performing
the next on the concert stage. All are valued members
of the university faculty, but their activities, their
perspectives, their needs and their concerns are as
diverse as can be.
So, too, the role and activities of a faculty member
can change over the course of a career. Early attention
is focused on building scholarly momentum and
reputation and developing teaching skills. Then, once
the early hurdles of tenure and promotion have been

achieved, members of the faculty become more involved
in service both within and external to the university.
Some senior faculty members become involved in what
are referred to as “deeper games,” where they use their
intellectual power to shape their field of scholarship.
Others become campus politicians, representing their
colleagues in faculty governance. Still others take on
administrative roles as chairs, deans, or perhaps even
presidents.
But there was a certain dilemma here, since the
further I rose up the administrative ladder, from dean to
provost and eventually to president, the more suspect
we became to our faculty colleagues. Yet this was not
surprising, since faculty resist—indeed, deplore—the
command/control style of leadership characterizing
the traditional pyramid organizations of business and
government. In fact, many sought careers in academe
in part because they knew here they would have no
“supervisor” giving direct orders or holding them
accountable. Faculty members could do what they
wanted, when they wanted. They had total freedom,
as long as they were capable of strong teaching and
scholarship in their field.
Faculty members are usually offended by any
suggestion that the university can be compared to
other organizational forms such as corporations
and governments. Pity the poor administrator who
mistakenly refers to the university as a corporation, or
to its students or the public at large as customers, or to
its faculty as employees. The faculty takes great pride in
belonging to a creative anarchy. Indeed, faculty members
look down upon those who get caught in the trap of
academic administrators. Even their closest colleagues
become somehow “tainted,” unfit, no longer a part of
the true academy, no matter how distinguished their
earlier academic accomplishments, once they succumb
to the pressures of administration. All presidents,
provosts, and deans have heard the suggestion that any
one on the faculty could do their job, but scholarship
and teaching were higher priorities. In reality, talent in
management is probably as rare a human attribute as
the ability to contribute original scholarship.
Yet the faculty also seeks leadership, not in details
of its teaching and scholarship, but in the abstract, in
providing the visions for its institutions, in articulating
fundamental values, in stimulating a sense of optimism

170

Pastoral care for the faculty family

171
and excitement. It also seeks protection from the
forces of darkness that rage outside the university’s
ivy-covered walls: the forces of politics, greed, antiintellectualism, and mediocrity that would threaten
the important values of the university—knowledge,
wisdom, excellence, service—truth, justice, and the
American way. Hence those members of the faculty
sentenced to roles as administrators, while never really
trusted, were nevertheless expected to support, protect
and defend the interests of the faculty.
To be sure, in reality the university is very much
a bottom-up organization, a creative anarchy, a
“voluntary” enterprise. Nevertheless, leadership
plays a critical role even in the university, just as it
does in other social institutions. If one examines major
accomplishments of the institution—the excellence of
a program, its impact on society—invariably one will
find a committed, forceful, visionary, and effective
leader. Perhaps it is a principal investigator, or a
department chair, or even a dean. Indeed, in some
cases—as astounding as it may sound, the leadership
may even be provided by a member of that most sinister
of all academic organizations, the dreaded “central
administration.”

The Deans
The University of Michigan is known throughout
higher education as a “deans’ university”. Because of
our size and our highly decentralized organization,
deans of our many schools and colleges have unusual
freedom and authority, albeit with considerable
responsibility and accountability. Most of the progress
made by schools over the years can be traced to the
leadership of their deans–although, of course, the
same can usually be said for the consequences of any
shortcomings.
Although some academic units such as the College
of Literature, Science, and the Arts or the School of
Medicine rival major universities in their size, financial
resources, or organizational complexity, for most
University of Michigan schools and colleges, both the
size and intellectual span is just about right to allow
true leadership. To be sure, a dean has to answer in both
directions, to the provost from above and their faculty
from below. But their capacity to control both their own

destiny and that of their school is far beyond that of
most administrators.
In an interview as we were stepping out of the
presidency, I remarked that both Anne and I viewed
being Dean of Engineering as the best role we had in the
University. In part this was because of the great talent
and energy of our faculty colleagues and the close bond
among members of the faculty family. But it was also
due to the simpler nature of the agenda, the ability to
get to know most faculty members and many students,
to have an immediate and observable impact. But,
perhaps most of all, it was enjoyable because a dean is
relatively free from the intense politics that swirl about
and sometimes dominate the central administration.
The deans themselves form another family,
occasionally in competition with one another, but
more frequently working together. A good provost
and president make it a point to provide many
opportunities for deans and their spouses to socialize
together, to build friendships and bonds, since these, in
turn, glue together the University. Both Anne and I look
back with considerable fondness at the friendships and
experiences we had with fellow deans.
Since the University is so heavily dependent upon the
quality of its deans, most presidents and provosts make
great effort to attract the very best into these important
positions. Hence the cadre of deans is usually quite
remarkable. To be sure, there is always a pecking order
among deans, with the “big dogs”–LS&A, Medicine,
Engineering, Law, and Business–sometimes standing
apart from the “little dogs”–Music, Art, Architecture,
Social Work, Education, Pharmacy, Dentistry, Nursing,
Natural Resources, and Public Health. The Rackham
Graduate School is usually an anomaly and, in fact,
can sometimes serve as an intermediary between the
superpowers and the nonnuclear states.
Although the deans generally meet regularly in a
large council with the provost–once called the Academic
Affairs Advisory Council but more recently called the
Academic Policy Group–the size of this body mitigates
against substantive discussion. In the late 1970s, when
Al Sussman, former dean of the Graduate school, was
serving as interim provost, he formed a clandestine
group of deans known as the “SOUP” Group (for
“Seminar on University Priorities”) for the purpose
of breaking the deans into smaller discussion units.

172

Entertaining the deans

173

The family of deans during our years
While this group, consisting of LS&A, Engineering,
Law, Business, Social Work, Pharmacy, and Rackham
was sometimes useful, it later evolved into an exclusive
fraternity with members selected more for personality
than priority of school (e.g., how could one possibly
leave out Medicine while including Pharmacy).
Nevertheless, for the most part, the family of deans
was remarkable for the quality of its members and their
commitment to the University.
It is my belief that great universities have great
deans. Hence, it is important for the president and
provost to work closely together not only in the
appointment and support of these key academic
leaders but also to build a sense of community among
them, establishing friendships and bonds, since these,
in turn, glue together the university. Perhaps because of
our own experience as members of the “deans’ family,”
Anne and I were always on the lookout for new ways
to involve the deans more intimately in the leadership
of the university.
To be sure, there are many drawbacks to academic
leadership roles, such as department chairs or deans.
These positions rarely open up at a convenient point
in one’s career, since most productive faculty members

usually have ongoing obligations for teaching or
research that are difficult to suspend for administrative
assignments. Although an energetic faculty member
can sometimes take on the additional burdens of
chairing a major academic committee or even leading
a small department or research institute, the time
requirements of a major administrative assignment
such as department chair or dean will inevitably come
at the expense of scholarly activity and the ability to
attract research grants. The higher one climbs on the
academic leadership ladder, from project director to
department chair to dean to executive officer, the more
likely it is that the rungs of the ladder will burn out
below them as they lose the scholarly momentum (at
least in the opinion of their colleagues) necessary to
return to active roles in teaching and research.
University of Michigan Professor Dan Moerman, an
anthropologist by training and longstanding member
of faculty governance, suggests a very interesting
perspective of the role of a dean as a broker between
the two cultures of the university: the faculty (collegial,
center-periphery, colleagues, peer respect) and the
administration (hierarchical, top-down, bosses,
performance evaluations). Moerman observes that,

174
“When a president discusses things with deans, he calls
a meeting; with the faculty, the president invites them
to dinner. The dean is the mediator, the connecting
link, between the two cultures. To be credible to the
faculty, the dean must have scholarly credentials.
But to relate to the administration, the dean needs to
be competitive rather than collegial. This leads to a
certain intentional ambiguity to the role. The dean is a
broker, a middleman, betwixt and between–a trickster
like Coyote or Janus.” Since deans must represent the
views of the faculty and never be seen as losing, they
must become quite conservative, seeking to minimize
risk and maximize flexibility. A president who interacts
directly with the faculty becomes very threatening to a
dean. (“If man can talk to God, what need is there for
a priest?”) What to do? As Moerman suggests, “Kick
ass” says the administrator; “consult” says the faculty;
“confuse” thinks the dean…

Executive Leadership
We took similar pride in the quality of the executive
leadership team of the University, which I believed to
be one of the strongest in the nation, both during my
administration and throughout the university’s earlier
history. The executive officers were also a family,
although, but unlike the deans, they were characterized
by great diversity in roles and backgrounds: some were
line officers; others were in staff roles. Although many
of the executive officers at most universities come from
outside the academy (e.g., business and law), Michigan
had a very unusual situation during my years as
president since all of our senior officers had academic
roots, most even with ongoing teaching and research
responsibilities. This not only provided the leadership
team with a deep understanding of academic issues,
but gave us important flexibility in breaking down the
usual bureaucracy to form multiofficer teams to address
key issues, such as federal research policy, fund-raising,
resource allocation, and even academic policy—issues
that would be constrained to administrative silos in
other universities.
The provost position at Michigan, one of the most
challenging and important in the nation, typically
attracted individuals with the potential for university
leadership: Allen Smith, Frank Rhodes, Harold Shapiro,

Billy Frye, Jim Duderstadt, and Chuck Vest (and later,
Bernie Machen, Nancy Cantor,Terry Sullivan, and Phil
Hanlon), all of whom eventually became university
presidents themselves. So too, since the University’s
Ann Arbor campus was not only the nation’s largest
both in terms of operating budget and physical space,
it attracted outstanding chief financial officers: Bill
Pierpont, Jim Brinkerhoff, and Farris Womack. A similar
situation existed in other key areas such as research,
student affairs, medical affairs, government relations,
development, and so on.
Surprisingly for one of the largest and most complex
universities in the nation, the University of Michigan
had a remarkably small central administration. In fact,
it operated with only one-half to one-third the number
of executive officers (vice-presidents) as most other
universities. A comparison of administrative costs
for the 60 AAU universities found Michigan ranking
among the top three most efficient institutions in the
nation. Such a lean administration could only succeed
with outstanding people, and hence a premium was
placed on developing or attracting the very best people
into these key positions. They, in term, recruited
outstanding senior staff in each of their organizations.
To illustrate the quality of this group, there was
general agreement across the nation that Michigan’s
provost (Chuck Vest and Gil Whitaker), chief financial
officer (Farris Womack), research vice president (Homer
Neal), student affairs vice president (Maureen Hartford),
university relations (Walt Harrison), development (Jon
Cosovich and Tom Kinnear), government relations
(Dick Kennedy), hospital director (John Forsyth),
athletic directors (Jack Weidenbach and Joe Roberson),
chief information officer (Doug Van Houweling) were
arguably the very best in the nation at what they did.
So, too, on each of their staffs were many others who
were regarded as national leaders, e.g., Paul Spradlin
in physical facilities, Bill Krumm and Randy Harris in
administrative services, Norman Herbert in investment
management, Lisa Baker in media relations, and on
and on. Each of these individuals not only provided
exceptional service to the University of Michigan, but
they were widely sought for broader national roles on
behalf of higher education more generally.
I had long had a tendency to surround myself with
people far smarter and experienced than I was, from

175

Entertaining the Executive Officers

176
my days as dean, then provost, and finally as president.
I realized that in an institution as complex as Michigan,
only the most talented people could provide the
necessary leadership. But, of course, these folks were
not shrinking violets. They rarely hesitated to say what
they thought, even if they knew it was not what the
president wanted to hear. Furthermore, if the president
was wrong, they told me so in no uncertain terms.
Fortunately, my ego could tolerate criticism, and I was
used to changing directions when a better idea was put
forward.
Of course, it was sometimes difficult to hold together
such a group of strong personalities. Teamwork was
essential, but it was also sometimes a challenge when
strongly held and differing views existed. Anne worked
hard to develop social events to pull the executive officer
team together. We always kicked off the fall term with
a potluck, hosted a holiday dinner in the President’s
House (complete with Santa Claus), and numerous
informal dinners and gatherings throughout the year.
Other opportunities such as football weekends, bowl
events, and basketball tournaments were used to bring
the group together.
Perhaps because of its size and complexity, but
more likely because of its long tradition of leadership,
Michigan has long been a source of leadership for the
rest of higher education. In fact, Michigan is among the
nation’s leaders in producting university presidents
from its faculty or administrative ranks.

The Regents
The UM Board of Regents comprised yet another
family requiring pastoral care by the president. Although
most of our governing board members were dedicated
public servants with a strong interest and loyalty to the
university, there were among some members, as with
any family, occasional disagreements—indeed, longstanding feuds—that might last months or even years.
But this was not surprising for a governing board that
owed both its election and its support to highly partisan
political constituencies.
Although Anne and I tried to be attentive to the
concerns of both current and past board members,
our position was complicated by the fact that we were
occasionally viewed by some regents as hired hands,

totally subservient and submissive to their particular
requests and occasional whims. Although every effort
was made to treat the regents with respect, concern, and
attentiveness, the great diversity among the attitudes
of individual regents toward the role of the president
and the first lady made the task extremely complex, as
it had been for our predecessors over the years. Most
presidents of public universities know these challenges
well.

The Staff
Students and faculty members tend to take the staff
of a university pretty much for granted. While they
understand these are the people who “keep the trains
running on time” and who provide them with the
environment they need for teaching and research, most
view staff as only the supporting cast for the real stars,
the faculty. When staff come to mind at all, it is usually as
a source of complaints. To many faculty members, such
service units as the Plant Department, the Purchasing
Department, and the Office of University Audits are
sometimes viewed as the enemy.
Yet with each step up the ladder of academic
administration, Anne and I came to appreciate more
just how critical the staff was to both the functioning
and the continuity of the university. It became clear
to us that throughout the university, whether at the
level of secretaries, custodians, or groundskeepers
or the rarified heights of senior administrators for
finance, hospital operations, or facilities construction
and management, the quality of the university’s staff,
coupled with their commitment and dedication, was
actually just as important as the faculty in making
Michigan the remarkable institution it has become. In
some ways, it was even more so, since unlike many
faculty members, who view their first responsibilities
as to their discipline or perhaps their careers, most staff
members are true professionals, deeply committed to
the welfare of the university as their highest priority,
many dedicating their entire careers to the institution.
Most staff members serve the university far longer
than the faculty, who tend to be lured away by the
marketplace. This was impressed on me twice each
year, when the president would host a banquet to
honor staff with long-term service—20, 30, even 40

177

Entertaining the Regents

178

The Presidential staff: Office, President’s House, and Inglis House

179

Celebrating the staff

180
years. In a very real sense, it is frequently the staff that
provide, through years of service, the continuity of
both the culture of the university and its commitment
to excellence. Put another way, the staff perpetuate the
institutional saga of the university as much as do the
students, faculty, or alumni.
Beyond their skill, competence, and dedication to
the university, there was also a remarkable spirit of
teamwork among staff members. Indeed, Anne and I
worked closely with the staff as our partners. In fact,
we began to view our presidential roles as more akin
to those of staff than faculty, in the sense that our first
obligation was always to the welfare of the university
rather than to our academic discipline or professional
career.
While intensely loyal to the university, staff also
require pastoral care from the president, particularly
during difficult times, such as budget cuts—sometimes
involving layoffs—or campus unrest. Anne and I always
gave the highest priority to events that demonstrated
the importance of staff to the university and our strong
support for their efforts. Whenever launching a major
strategic effort, such as the Michigan Mandate or the
Michigan Agenda for Women, I would meet with
numerous staff groups throughout the university to
explain the effort and seek their advice and counsel. We
made it a point to attend or host staff receptions, for
example, to honor a retiring staff member or celebrate
an important achievement. While we understood
the central role of faculty in determining the quality
of academic programs, we felt it was important that
the president always be seen, in word and in deed,
as committed to the welfare of the entire university
community—students, faculty, and staff—in a balanced
sense.
In the role of the president, Anne and I had the
pleasure of serving with some quite remarkable folks
who supported the activities of the president. At the top
of the list in the Office of the President was Executive
Secretary to the President, Nona Mustard. I regarded
Nona as the best secretary in the University. Many
others regarded her at times as the real behind-thescenes president.
Although the Office of the President was always
ground zero for the University, handling a complex and
sometimes bewildering array of challenges, it benefited

from a particularly competent and professional staff.
Anne also benefited from a remarkable team
supporting presidential events and facilities. Barbara
Johnson and Judi Dinesen handled the complex
challenges of diverse events and facilities needs with
skill and competence. Inge Roncoli and Kurt Szalay
kept the President’s House and Inglis House running
efficiently and provided hospitality to our guests. And
first Chuck Jenkins and then Joan Kobinski and their
team of gardeners made both the President’s House and
Inglis House grounds showplaces for the University.
Beyond their skill, competence, and dedication to
the University, there was also a remarkable spirit of
teamwork. Both Anne and I had an usually close and
informal relationship with the staff. In a very real sense,
they were a part of the presidential family.

The Old Guard
It seems appropriate to mention another element
of the faculty: the old guard. Every so often, all
organizations undergo a transition in which one
generation of leaders passes the torch to the next–or,
on occasion, when the younger generation, fed up with
the antics of their elders, simply revolts and seizes
leadership directly. In our roles as dean, provost, and
president, Anne and I seem to have been on both sides–
and involved in both types of processes.
Back in the good old faculty days, I was drawn into
the revolution mode when a number of young faculty
members united to confront a dean who was leading
the College of Engineering nowhere. Throughout the
1970s, the College slid backwards. It was unable to
compete effectively for University resources, even
as its enrollments surged. Its long-planned move to
the North Campus was stalled, with not a single new
building completed, despite a five-year long fundraising campaign and, presumably, a University
commitment to go after matching state funds. Many of
its better faculty members were leaving, and few new
faculty members were being hired.
Several of the younger full professors, faculty who
were approaching key decisions about whether they
should remain at Michigan for the rest of there careers
or go elsewhere, finally got fed up with the aimless
drifting of the College, and decided to meet with the

181
dean to lay their concerns on the line. This was an
unusual group, consisting of folks like Chuck Vest
(later dean, provost, and then president at MIT), Bill
Powers (later head of the Ford Scientific Lab), Scott
Fogler (later associate dean and chair of Chemical
Engineering), Dave Sonstegaard (later chief technical
officer of 3-M), and me. Behind us were dozens of
other young faculty, frustrated and ready to leave the
College. The group’s cordial but frank discussion was
supportive of the dean’s decision to accept a position at
another university.
Here I learned that a determined group of energetic
young people could indeed accomplish a transition in
leadership. But I also learned that one must approach
revolution with great care or otherwise you could get in
real trouble. This group of young Turks was eventually
asked to take responsibility for leadership (...me as
Dean...Chuck Vest and Scott Fogler as associate deans...)
The next experience with leadership transitions
occurred in the roles of provost and then president.
Harold Shapiro had inherited most of his senior
leadership team, and with the exception of the
appointment of Bill Frye as provost, Jon Cosovich as
VP-Development, and Linda Wilson as VP-Research
during his presidency, this team remained intact. But
it was clear during the transition between presidents,
that there would be a major turnover in this leadership
team over time, just as there would be among the
deans, as a great many University administrators
approached the end of their careers. Hence, much of my
early responsibility involved guiding this leadership
transition, recruiting outstanding people to succeed
those stepping down, and–in some cases–steering some
of the old guard to greener pastures.
In this regard, it is important to stress that Anne
and I did not view the University administration as
one would a political administration in Washington. It
was comprised of many people, talented and wise, who
had served the University long and well. We believed
it important that these continue in their roles well into
our presidency to provide continuity. But it was also
clear that transitions would eventually occur. While the
role of providing firm, stable leadership during these
transitions in the leadership team was time-consuming,
it was straightforward, in part because of the unusually
broad experience we had in our many university roles.

Hence as the old guard phased out and new people
came on board, in many cases we were able to pick up
temporarily their responsibilities until the next team
came on board.
So, too, the recruiting of outstanding people was
straightforward in most cases. Michigan is a marvelous
institution, and it attracts marvelous people. I had
always been a very effective recruiter, in part because
of my oft-stated philosophy of “attracting outstanding
people, giving them the encouragement and support to
push to the limits of their ability, and then getting out
of their way”.

Alumni
We particularly enjoyed our experiences with
another Michigan family, the very large, 500,000 strong
family of Michigan alumni. All university presidents
are generally extensively involved in alumni activities,
but at Michigan we had an array of special events such
as Rose Bowls and Final Fours to add to these roles.
Anne and I particularly enjoyed the close friendships
we developed with the directors of the UM Alumni
Association, Bob Forman and Steve Grafton, and the
distinguished alumni who served as its president
during our tenure: Judge Geraldine Ford, Verne Istock,
Rick Rattner, and Bob Peterson.
Beyond our many meetings with Michigan alumni
on campus at University events, we also enjoyed
immensely those few opportunities we had to host
alumni travel programs abroad.

A Heritage of Leadership
Anne and I were always very conscious of being part
of another very important Michigan family comprised
of former presidents and first ladies of the University.
We were particularly fortunate in having several of
the former presidential teams living in Ann Arbor–
the Hatchers, the Flemings, and the Smiths–with the
Shapiros only a phone call away. This gave us access to
almost a half-a-century of experience and wisdom.
This conscious effort to involve the former presidents
in the life of the University was intended not only to
take advantage of their experience and wisdom, but to
better establish a sense of continuity. We realized that

182

Flying the flag with alumni, around the world
(including two “Presidents” Ford, Geraldine (of the UM Alumni Association, and Gerald (of the United States)

183
each presidency built on the accomplishments of its
predecessors, and we wanted to make certain this was
recognized throughout the University.
We made it a point not only to seek their advice
and counsel whenever we could, but to also involve
them as completely in the life of the University as they
wished. We made certain that they were invited to all
major campus activities such as dinners, receptions,
commencements, and VIP visits. We followed the
Shapiro’s lead by regarding the viewing area in the
Michigan Stadium as the “Presidents’ box”, not simply
the “President’s box”, and not only invited them, but
actively involved them in football weekend activities.
In fact, the Hatchers had not been to a Michigan
football game since they retired in the 1960s, and
they thoroughly enjoyed once again being part of the
activities. We also invited the former presidents to
make use of University facilities such as Inglis House
whenever they were involved in University activities.
We directed the staff of the President’s Office to always
support their various activities, whenever this would
be helpful to them.
Anne and I enjoyed immensely the friendship of
the Hatchers, Flemings, Smiths, and Shapiros. There
was a bond that only those who serve in these roles
can understand. Even after Allen Smith passed away,
we felt it very important to keep Alene Smith involved
in University activities. And when we had the chance
to honor the Shapiros by naming the newly renovated
Undergraduate Library after them, Anne made a
great effort to design events both for the Shapiros and
their families to convey a sense of the University’s
appreciation for their efforts.
In 1992, the University hosted a special event to
mark its 175th year by inviting the past Michigan
presidents to participate in a roundtable discussion in
the Rackham Auditorium. The discussion was hosted
by Bob Warner as University Historian. Following
the public event held in the Rackham Auditorium,
we hosted a private dinner for the presidents at the
President’s House. It was quite a wonderful experience
as they compared their experiences over a half-century
of leadership. Anne and I felt privileged to be present
at this remarkable event, which reminded us once again
about how much we owed former presidents and first
ladies in shaping the institution that we now led.

It also convinced us once again about just how
important efforts were to capture, understand, archive,
and make available the history of this remarkable
institution.

The Duderstadt Family
Of course, there is yet one other Michigan family of
particular importance to the presidency: the president’s
family itself. Although our daughters were away at
Yale and Harvard during the early years and then later
chose not to live in the President’s House when they
returned for graduate school at Michigan, they were
very much part of our lives during our tenure. Hence
they are very much part of our story of the Michigan
presidency.
We had always been an exceptionally close family.
Both Anne and I took great interest in our daughter’s
activities as they grew up. We rarely missed a parent’s
orientation at school, a swim or gymnastics meet, a
music recital or a theater production. We were thrilled
by our daughters’ academic success, although there
were times when we worried that they worked too hard
and tried to do too many things.
Both were rather sophisticated from their own highprofile experiences at Yale and Harvard, and while
they were proud and supportive of their parents in
the presidency, they took things with a grain of salt.
They put up with the press, although sometimes with
tongue-in-cheek, as when Susan perched on the couch
for their official cover photo in the President’s House
for one of the local newspapers.
They also brought the same spirit of humor to
lighten the stresses that sometimes characterized our
lives. Not to say that these were not intense at times.
Both faced major challenges at Yale and Harvard and
then in their graduate studies and careers afterwards.
But both had a good sense of humor and helped make
the President’s House a home.
Anne and I actually learned a good deal from our
experience as parents of college students that proved
of use in our leadership role at Michigan. We certainly
developed a sense of empathy for poor, struggling
(not to mention broke) parents as they moved their
new college students into their dorm rooms during
the Big Dropoff. We learned to suffer through their

184

Anne and I had the very great fortune to develop strong friendships with earlier presidential couples:
Harlan and Anne Hatcher, Robben and Sally Fleming, Allen and Alene Smith, and Harold and Vivian Shapiro.

185

We enjoyed immensely the opportunities we had to host events with the former
Michigan presidents and to remain close friends long after our years of service.

186
mood swings as they adjusted to their undergraduate
colleges–”I hate my roommates.”; “I’m sure they made
a mistake in admitting me because I’m going to flunk
out.”; “Every one else goes out every night, and I just
sit home alone.”, and so on. We enjoyed traveling back
East for parents weekends and commencements.
But we had an interesting perspective beyond that
of many parents. We knew personally the presidents of
each of their colleges: Benno Schmidt at Yale and Derek
Bok (and Linda Wilson) at Harvard (and Radcliffe).
We also had close friends in high places at both
universities: my old roommate Terry Holcombe was
senior vice-president at Yale, and my former assistant
Robin Jacoby was vice-president at Radcliffe. Beyond
that, my sister lived only a few blocks from Harvard
Square in Cambridge. Hence there were plenty of folks
we could call on if we really got worried about things.
For example, once the ceiling of Susan’s dormitory
room collapsed during a rainstorm, and I chewed out
Benno for allowing such dilapidated student housing.
Although Susan was very social and involved in
organizations such as the Yale Glee Club, she chose a
particularly intensive academic sequence, beginning in
Yale’s famous Directed Studies program and then later
majoring in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry.
Following graduation, she returned to Ann Arbor to
enroll in a joint five-year M.D. and M.P.H. program,
since she was interested both in medical practice and
policy. She also was rapidly captured by her interests
in Michigan’s Gilbert and Sullivan Society, and was
generally in the chorus in each of their performances
throughout her Michigan education.
Although Susan chose to live across the street from
the President’s House in the Martha Cook Residence
Hall–in fact, with a five-year tenure, she was one of
the longest surviving “Cookies”–she was frequently
in the President’s House with her friends. As her
M.D. program became more involved, we would
frequently see her collapsed on the couch after an allnighter in her clinical work. It was a great experience
for me to participate in awarding Susan her M.D. at
commencement.
Susan had long had an interest in children, and
she chose to do her residency at Children’s Memorial
Hospital in Chicago, a component of the Northwestern
University Medical School. Living in Lincoln Park,

however, was a bit like living in Ann Arbor, even
from the perspective of all the Michigan alumni, and
we tended to see her frequently. When she completed
her residency, she began her practice in rural medicine
by following her colleague and later husband, John
Iskander to work in a small clinic in Albany, Georgia.
Interestingly enough, the head of the clinic, Neil
Schulman, provided the model for the popular movie,
Doc Hollywood.
Kathy had an even more challenging academic
experience than Susan. Because of her strong ability in
science–she was both a Westinghouse Science Talent
Contest winner and a National Merit Scholar–she
began her studies at Harvard in astrophysics. Yet, even
her AP work at Pioneer High School had not prepared
her adequately for the intense pace of Harvard physics.
After a couple of rough years, both academic and
socially (although she continued her athletic interests
by competing in varsity track–the heptathalon–and
crew), she decided to take some time off her junior year
to catch her breadth. Although she first thought about
just taking a job for a term (e.g., a truckstop waitress in
Texas), her parents convinced her to enroll in the fall
program at Michigan’s campus in Florence. As it turned
out, this was one of the best things that she could have
done. She made some friends, thoroughly enjoyed a term
of wandering about the art museums of Florence and
later Europe, and learned about “life” from the Italians.
She returned convinced that a Harvard education was
too valuable to waste on science, and transferred into
English Literature–and was thoroughly happy.
However, Kathy also had an intense social
commitment, so it was not surprising when she signed
up for the Peace Corps following graduation. She
claims that one of the key questions asked in their
interview was, “If we accept you as a Peace Corps
Volunteer, and your parents object, what will you do?”
Apparently she gave them the right answer, but she
never would tell us what it was. When the Peace Corps
notifies you, they send you a letter with your proposed
assignment and give you five days to accept. In Kathy’s
case, they assigned her as one of the first group of 30 to
go to Eastern Europe, to Hungary, to build an English
Language teaching infrastructure. In fact, just before
boarding the plane to Budapest, Kathy participated in a
White House Rose Garden ceremony (where President

187

The Duderstadt daughters, remaining active despite the occupations (and preoccupations) of their parents.

188
Bush mispronounced her name–but at least he tried).
The Peace Corps experience in Hungary was very
challenging. Kathy likened it to parachuting behind
enemy lines to set up a spy network. She was first
assigned to a dismally polluted industrial city in
eastern Hungary, near the Ukraine border, and a threehour train ride away from any other American. After
a year, the Peace Corps decided that her location was
too dangerous, and she was relocated to a town on the
Danube midway between Budapest and Vienna.
While Kathy was very glad she became a Peace Corp
volunteer, she also found the experience quite stressful
and lonely at times. But it accomplished the task of
giving direction to her life. After experiencing first
hand the incredible environmental damage in Eastern
Europe, she decided to return to her earlier interests
in science and do graduate work in global change.
Since Michigan had one of the leading departments of
atmospheric science, she applied and was accepted to
its Ph.D. program.
Kathy experienced some of the usual Peace Corps
problems in returning to American culture. She also
faced the challenge of retraining herself in science, after
several years as an English major. Fortunately, since she
was close by, we could take her back under our wings
while she readjusted.
We knew she was back on track when she passed
her Ph.D. candidacy examination–and celebrated with
a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild. Kathy looks back
on her Peace Corps experience as something she was
glad she did, but that she would probably never do
again.
We have many wonderful family memories of the
President’s House–in addition to those more traumatic
and stressful experiences in the presidency. As noted
in an earlier chapter, the President’s House is really
divided into two sections: the first floor is essentially all
public space, with rooms for dining and entertaining
guests. The president is expected to live in a small suite,
including a sitting room, bedroom, and bath, on the
second floor.
There are other bedrooms on the second and third
floor that can be used for family and guests. We did a bit
of reconfiguration and converted one of the bedrooms
into an office for Anne. When Susan and Kathy were

around, they stayed in bedrooms on the third floor,
which also had a study space that they could treat like
a student room (which they did!) They sometimes also
used the basement area as a recreation room when there
were rambunctious guests (e.g., students).
On those rare occasions when we could be a normal
family, we had many of the usual family experiences.
Christmas was always an enjoyable time–except that
it came to an end the day after Christmas when we
had to take down the tree, pack the bags, and head
off for a bowl game. Anne and the staff would put up
the tree and I would assemble my electric train. Susan
and Kathy would usually be back–from college or their
graduate work–so the house would generally have
people in it. (Although on a couple of occasions they
were in Europe over the holidays.)
Toward the end of our presidency, we actually had
Kathy’s wedding in the house–more correctly, in the
Clements Library, (only daughters of Presidents are
allowed to marry in Clements) with the reception in
the President’s House. This gave us one of the very
rare opportunities to get the entire Duderstadt family
together for a portrait. Although we had stepped
down from the presidency when our daughter Susan
was married the following year, she chose to use her
beloved residence hall, Martha Cook, as the site for her
wedding, right across the street from the President’s
House.

Some Final Thoughts
Both Anne and I believed it important always to
keep in mind the historical context for leadership.
Such institutions as the University of Michigan have
existed for centuries and will continue to do so, served
by generation after generation of leaders. To serve the
university, any Michigan president must understand
and acknowledge the accomplishments of his or
her predecessors and build on their achievements.
Each president must strive to pass along to his or her
successor an institution that is better, stronger, and
more vital than the one he or she inherited. Indeed, this
strong tradition of improvement from one presidency
to the next has long been the guiding spirit of the
university’s leaders.

189
While Michigan enjoys an intense loyalty among
its students, faculty, and staff, it can also be a tough
environment for many. It is a very large and complex
institution, frequently immersed in controversial
social and political issues. The Michigan campus
culture has evolved to accommodate a tough political
neighborhood. The president’s challenge is to provide
pastoral care and leadership for a highly diverse campus
community that, left to its own devices, could become
highly fragmented—that is, to create community in a
cold climate.
During my presidency, Anne and I sought
to temper somewhat the university’s hardened
character by stressing certain “c” words: community,
communication, comity, cooperation, civility, caring,
concern, and commitment—in contrast to the harsher
“c” words competition, complaining, conniving, and
conflict. (Anne suggested adding some other “c” words
just for students, such as cleanliness and chastity, but
she soon found this was a hopeless cause.) Particularly
during a period of change, we believed that we needed
to better link together the various cultures, values, and
experiences that characterized our campus community.
We also sought to build a greater sense of pride in and
loyalty to the institution, pulling people together with
a common vision and commitment to the achievement
of excellence.

Some of the most important changes occurring at the
university during the decade of our leadership affected
the various family cultures of the university. The student
culture evolved beyond the distrust and confrontation
born in the 1960s to a spirit of mutual respect and trust
with the administration. The university’s commitment
to diversity through such major strategic efforts as
the Michigan Mandate and the Michigan Agenda for
Women would never have been possible without such
a major change in the campus climate. So too, the
staff culture became more tolerant of change, in part
because of our efforts to recognize the staff’s loyalty
and immense contributions to the university.
Changes occurred far more slowly in the faculty
culture, because of its complexity and diversity.
Fundamental academic values—academic freedom,
intellectual integrity, striving for excellence—still
dominated this culture, as they must in any great
university. However, there seemed to be a growing
sense of adventure and excitement throughout the
university, as both faculty and staff were more willing
to take risks, to try new things, and to tolerate failure
as part of the learning process. While the university
was still not yet where it needed to be in encouraging
the level of experimentation and adventure necessary
to define its future, it seemed clear that this spirit was
beginning to take hold.

190

Chapter 13

Rebuilding the Campus
During the latter part of our presidency, there was
an unprecedented level of construction activity on the
campus. I once suggested that perhaps the University
should temporarily replace the wolverine as its mascot
by the crane–the building crane. A favorable alignment
of the planets–low interest rates and construction costs
coupled with state and private support–had provided
the University with an opportunity to address a
decades-long physical facilities need. During a brief
five-year period, essentially every academic building
on the Michigan campuses was either renovated or
replaced. By the late 1990s, the University enjoyed not
only the highest quality campus facilities in its history,
but the quality of environment it was able to provide for
teaching and scholarship was unequaled in the nation.
However, in the 1980s, this task looked daunting,
indeed. During the previous several decades, the
campus environment had declined significantly. A
two-decade long freeze on state-funding for capital
construction, coupled with the age and obsolescence
of many of Michigan’s facilities, was having a serious
impact on the quality of the University’s academic
programs and the morale of faculty, students, and
staff. Classrooms were dilapidated, laboratories were
no longer adequate for state-of-the-art research, and
major book and art collections faced serious risk. Even
the appearance of the campus looked dismal, with
trash littered everywhere, posters taped to any bare
space, and chalked messages across the sidewalks and
building walls. It was clear that many of the students
and faculty had lost any sense of pride in the appearance
of the campus, and they treated it like the slum it had
become.
In the late 1980s, a carefully designed plan was

developed to rebuild, renovate, and update all
the University’s buildings. This massive campus
renaissance, eventually amounting to almost $2 billion
of facilities construction and renovation, was made
possible by a combination of state support for capital
improvements; gifts and grants; the reallocation of
internal UM funds including contributions from the
University’s auxiliary units; and student fees. Its
tremendous success was due to the vision, commitment,
and hard work of a great many individuals at the
University. Of particular note here was the incredible
effort of VP Farris Womack in leading the effort to
finance the projects, Paul Spradlin in directing the
projects, and Jack Janveja, Tom Schlauff, and Fred
Mayer in the design, management, and execution of the
complex effort.
By the conclusion of this massive effort, not only
had academic buildings on all three campuses been
renovated or replaced with modern facilities, but the
infrastructure necessary for modern research and
teaching was installed. Furthermore, this massive
construction effort provided an opportunity to
significantly enhance the appearance of the University’s
campuses with exciting new architecture and new
landscaping. Finally, by taking advantage of modern
technology, the University was able to design facilities
to lower lifetime operational costs.
The University of Michigan had moved rapidly
from an aging campus to a leader in the quality of
environment it was able to provide for its academic
program. It would enter the new century, confident
of working from a firm foundation of cutting-edge
teaching, research, and support facilities.

191
Bricks and Mortar
While outstanding faculty, students, and staff
are the key assets of a great university, the quality of
facilities clearly influences the ability both to recruit
outstanding people and to support their efforts to
achieve excellence. Winston Churchill once stated:
“We shape our buildings. Thereafter, they shape us.”
Maintaining and enhancing the quality of the campus,
buildings, grounds, and other infrastructure is a major
priority of the university and must be a responsibility
of the president. In most cases, the need for facilities
and other campus improvements bubble up from
the various programs of the university, and then the
president takes the lead in acquiring the resources
necessary to support these projects.
Although the needs of academic units should take
precedence in capital improvements, any visit to a
university campus will soon reveal that much of the
activity exists in auxiliary units, such as the medical
center, student housing, and intercollegiate athletics
because of their independent capacity to generate
funding (e.g., patient fees, rents, ticket income,
television revenue, or gifts).
The majority of capital expansion at most research
universities these days occurs in their medical centers,
driven by the need for renovation or growth in clinical
facilities, the desire for additional research space in the
biomedical sciences, and the availability of substantial
income from clinical activities. This is not surprising,
considering that medical center budgets have typically
increased at twice the rate of academic budgets
throughout the past two decades (e.g., 10 percent per
year for the medical center versus 5 percent per year for
the rest of the university). The desire to increase clinical
income drives the continual expansion of facilities,
particularly in such lucrative areas as surgery and
internal medicine, but also in satellite clinics designed
to expand primary care activities that feed patients
into university hospitals. Similarly, the extraordinary
growth in federal support of biomedical research, now
representing over 60 percent of all federal research and
development on university campuses, has stimulated
staggering investments in expensive new research
facilities in the life sciences, such as molecular biology,
genomics, proteomics, and biotechnology. There is

a certain irony here: in contrast to pharmaceutical
companies that tend to invest in “throwaway”
research buildings because of the rapid obsolescence
of research technology, universities prefer to hire
expensive architects to design monumental facilities
to last generations, even though these facilities will
require several times their original capital costs for the
renovations necessary to track technological changes.
In recent years, there also has been a comparable
level of capital expansion in athletic facilities. The wacko
culture characterizing intercollegiate athletics presumes
that the team that spends the most—or builds the most—
wins the most. Hence, there has been a costly arms race
to invest hundreds of millions of dollars in expanding
football stadiums and basketball pavilions, specialized
training facilities, academic counseling centers, plush
offices for the ever-expanding athletic staff, and even
museums designed to impress recruits and fans alike
with past athletic accomplishments. While much of this
investment (e.g., in bigger and better training facilities
or the most expensive artificial turf fields) is driven
by competitive forces, some of the largest investments
(e.g., skyboxes for wealthy fans and corporate clients,
sophisticated television systems, or on-campus stores
for marketing sports paraphernalia) have been made as
a marketing device. Most athletic departments tend to
borrow the funds to build such facilities, depending on
future revenue from ticket sales, television contracts, or
licensing to cover the debt, although most of these loans
are actually secured with a university pledge of income
from student fees. The debt load on several of the major
athletic programs is considerable, ranging into the
hundreds of millions of dollars for many institutions
and requiring that new revenue be generated through
clever and occasionally even coercive mechanisms, such
as seat taxes and skyboxes (ironically given a highly
favorable, if somewhat perverse, tax treatment by the
Internal Revenue Service as “charitable donations for
educational purposes).
Although the core activities of the university involve
teaching and scholarship, capital investments in
facilities for academic programs tends to lag far behind
investments in auxiliary activities, such as medical
care and intercollegiate athletics. In part, this has to do
with constraints on the funding sources available for
academic facilities (e.g., state appropriations, private

192

The key to rebuilding the campus: Farris Womack, VPCFO, who put together the financial plan, and Paul
Spradlin, head of Plant Extension, who managed the
vast complexity of the many projects.
gifts, or debt financing based on student fees). But it
is also due to the relative autonomy of most auxiliary
units, portraying (at least in myth, if not in reality) their
financial independence from the rest of the university.
Most universities tend to be far more parsimonious
when spending funds on new classroom or library space
than when investing in major expansion of the football
stadium or university hospital. As a result, the quality
of academic space on many campuses, particularly in
public universities, deteriorated quite significantly
during the hard economic times of the 1980s.
From this perspective, the rebuilding of the
University of Michigan’s academic campuses in the
1990s ranks as a remarkable accomplishment. There
was also a substantial effort to improve the landscaping
and appearance of the campus. Pride in place—on the
part of students, faculty, and staff—is important in
maintaining the quality of a campus. Once the quality
of facilities begins to deteriorate, not only do people
dread going to their working or learning environments,
but they lose any sense of personal responsibility for
maintaining the appearance of a campus. Students
begin to trash the campus by tacking flyers everywhere
and chalking sidewalks and buildings. Faculty and
staff simply ignore the accumulating debris and graffiti.
Each Sunday morning, Anne, and I would take a walk
about the campus, pulling down posters, picking up
trash, and noting where graffiti needed to be removed.
But such efforts were simply fingers plugging the holes

in the dike until the general quality of the campus was
improved through the massive capital investments
of the mid-1990s. A sense of pride in the campus was
restored, and the campus community accepted a spirit
of personal responsibility in keeping it in tip-top shape.
The lessons learned from three decades of neglect
should not be forgotten.
The role of the president in such projects was
considerable, not so much in determining priorities
or architectural design, but in acquiring the resources
and smoothing the approval process. However, some
caution is also warranted here. Perhaps because of
the “edifice complex” (the desire to see one’s impact
on a campus or to leave monuments behind), many
university presidents become obsessed with bricksand-mortar projects. They retain “signature” architects
as campus planners and commission them to make
architectural statements on the campus. Unfortunately,
this leads to disaster in many cases, since prominent
architects frequently have little understanding of the
culture of a campus or the facility needs of academic
programs. Many ambitious projects come in at costs far
higher than original estimates or result in buildings that
are dysfunctional for their original intent. Furthermore,
since the lifetime costs to operate buildings is generally
several times their original construction cost, far too
many signature architectural projects become white
elephants, placing a heavy burden on academic
budgets, while meeting the original objectives in only
a marginal fashion.
Although I had long had a strong personal interest
in architecture (not only taking Vincent Scully’s famous
course on modern architecture at Yale, but actually
working for an architect-engineering firm in the
1960s), I stayed far away from any direct involvement
in architectural issues as president. Instead, I relied
heavily on the chief financial officer and his experienced
staff in our plant extension department, who worked
closely with the provost, deans, and faculty in
academic units to develop realistic program statements
and then utilized competitive bidding processes and
strong project management to make certain that capital
projects moved ahead smoothly, remained within cost
estimates, and met program objectives. As the CEO
of an organization spending hundreds of millions of
dollars per year on capital facilities, I was not about

193
to inject amateur architectural interests or whims into
major expenditures addressing critical needs of the
campus.

Rebuilding the Campuses
During the decade from 1986 to 1996, the University
launched and completed over $2 billion of major
construction and renovation projects that provided
essentially every activity of the University on its
multiple campuses with a physical environment of
unprecedented quality.
Yet, in the mid-1980s, this challenge seemed almost
hopeless. Although the UM-Dearborn and UM-Flint,
with new campuses and relatively strong political
support, did manage to receive significant state support
for capital facilities during the 1970s and 1980s, badly
needed capital projects on the Ann Arbor campus
remained logjammed, with little public or private
support in sight. The Central Campus of the University
was in particularly serious condition.
In part this was due to two earlier University
decisions. In the 1960s the University challenged the
state’s authority to dictate certain aspects of capital
facilities projects, thereby losing the opportunity for
state capital outlay during the 1960s and early 1970s,
a time when other state universities were expanding
rapidly. This freeze on state-funded construction of
academic facilities at UM-AA continued throughout
the 1970s and early 1980s because of the University’s
decision to push the construction of the Replacement
Hospital Project, a new adult hospital to replace the
aging “Old Main” University Hospital, as its highest
priority for state funding. Because of the massive size
of this project, then the largest in the history of the state
of Michigan at over $300 million, other capital needs
were put on the back burner throughout the 1970s and
early 1980s. Indeed, the size of state funding required
for the Replacement Hospital Project took a significant
bite out of the capital outlay dollars available for all of
higher education in Michigan during the 1970s.
This posed a particular challenge to the Ann Arbor
campus. Not only was UM-AA the largest university
campus in the nation, with almost 26 million square feet
of space, but many of its buildings were fifty to seventy
years old. Heating systems were antiquated, windows

drafty, and teaching and laboratory facilities were
outdated. The severe budget problems of the 1980s had
resulted in an accumulation of deferred maintenance,
which also took a serious toll on the University’s
infrastructure. Growth and advances in pedagogy,
research, technology, and the public service mission
had left the University woefully in need of state-of-theart facilities to meet the needs of its students, faculty,
and staff.
Although there were several state-funded projects
in the early 1980s, such as Electrical Engineering and
Computer Science Building, the Chemical Sciences
Laboratory, and a science facility at UM-Flint, this
modest state commitment paled in comparison with
the needs of the academic programs of the University.
Many of the most distinguished academic programs
of the University were housed in ancient buildings, in
bad need of repair, and totally inadequate for modern
teaching and research. As the University approached
the 1990s, the situation looked bleak indeed for any
relief of its capital needs.
Yet, in the late 1980s, several factors converged
simultaneously to provide the University with a
remarkable window of opportunity for rebuilding its
campuses. First, falling interest rates, coupled with
the University’s high credit rating, made it quite
inexpensive to borrow money. Second, because of a
weak economy, there were few competing construction
projects underway in the private sector, and hence
construction bids tended to come in quite low.
Third, the University’s success in auxiliary activities,
including clinical revenue and continuing education
fees, generated substantial revenue. And, fourth, the
University was able to convince Governor John Engler
to launch a major state capital facilities program, with
the understanding that the University would match the
state contribution through the use of its own internal
funds.
But there was one final ingredient. We managed
to convince the Regents that the University should
debt-finance critically needed academic facilities
using student fees. While this was a common practice
in private universities, Michigan had generally used
student fees to finance only non-instructional facilities
such as the Crisler Center and recreational sports gyms,
depending on state funding for academic facilities. To

194
make this step more politically palatable in the face of
concerns about rapidly rising tuition, the administration
developed a plan of “shared sacrifice” in which faculty
and staff salaries were held level during the first year of
the new fee. (This latter step earned harsh criticism from
some faculty members, even though the lapse in salary
increases was only temporary and more than made up
through strong salary programs in later years.)

The Central Campus
Most encouraging of all was the great progress in
addressing the critical needs of the Central Campus.
The Undergraduate Library, appropriately referred
to as the “UGLI” was surrounded by an attractive
shell, totally renovated, and dedicated as the Shapiro
Library. The Physics Department benefited from a
major new research laboratory. A major building was
constructed between Angell and Haven Halls to serve
the humanities faculty. Total building renovations
were accomplished for East and West Engineering,
(renamed East Hall and West Hall), C. C. Little, and
Angell Hall. Furthermore, $80 million of funding was
obtained for the last renovations, the LS&A Building,
Frieze, Mason, and Haven Halls. And a marvelous new
building was built for the School of Social Work. There
was also a substantial effort to improve the landscaping
and appearance of the campus, including a complete
renovation of the Ingalls Mall and the Diag, the East
University mall, the rest of the Central Campus, and
the “North Woods” landscaping plan for the North
Campus. At the same time, a number of safety concerns
were addressed with increased lighting, new plantings,
gardens, and courtyards designed to augment the new
construction.

The Medical Campus
The Medical Center led the way with a series of new
teaching, research, and clinical facilities that augmented
the new Adult General Hospital. A new Child and
Maternal Health Care Hospital replaced Mott and
Women’s Hospitals. A high-rise Cancer and Geriatrics
Center was constructed. A trio of sophisticated research
laboratories, Medical Science Research Buildings I, II,
and III came on line to keep the Medical School at the

forefront of biomedical research, while also housing
the Howard Hughes Medical Research Institute. As
the Medical Center growth began to strain against the
limits of its downtown Ann Arbor site, the University
Hospitals acquired a large site northeast of Ann
Arbor and began to develop its East Medical Campus
to respond to the need for additional primary care
facilities. It also developed new primary care facilities
throughout southeastern Michigan, including a major
concentration in the Briarwood area in south Ann
Arbor.

The South Campus
There was also extensive construction activity on
the South Campus of the University, including the
renovation or construction of most athletic facilities.
Michigan Stadium was renovated, and a natural grass
field was installed. In the process, the stadium floor
was lowered so that an additional 3,000 seats could be
added, thereby increasing the capacity of the stadium
to 106,000. Other new or substantially renovated
facilities included Canham Natatorium, Schembechler
Hall, Keen Arena, Weidenbach Hall, Yost Arena, the
Michigan Golf Course, the varsity track, and the
new Michigan Tennis Complex. New facilities were
provided to support business operations, including the
Wolverine Tower and the Campus Safety Office.
Extensive renovations were made to Michigan
Stadium, including elegant entrance plazas and a
surrounding wall of brick and iron work under the
leadership of Athletic Directors Jack Weidenbach and
Joe Roberson.

The North Campus
The last remaining facilities needed to complete
the North Campus were finished, including the
FXB Building for aerospace engineering, the Lurie
Engineering Center, and the Media Union, a remarkable
digital library and multimedia center. Further, the
eminent American architect and University alumnus,
Charles Moore, was commissioned to design a striking
carillon, the Lurie Bell Tower, which soon became the
symbol for the North Campus.
In 1994, the University conducted a blind

195
1990s New Buildings and Renovations on the UM Central Campus

Angell Hall Renovation

Angell Hall-Haven Connector

Angell Computer Cluster

Randall Laboratory Addition
Chemistry Building (Dow)

Shapiro Undergraduate Library

Kraus Building

C. C. Little

Chemistry Building (Old)

196

West Engineering Building

Lorch Hall

East Engineering Building

Business Administration Education

Health Service

Business Executive Education

School of Social Work

Student Activities Heutwell Center

Margaret Bell Pool Addition

Michigan League

Ingalls Mall/Diag Re-construction

Hill Auditorium Plan

197
1990s New Buildings and Renovations on the UM North Campus

Media Union

Lurie Bell Tower

Lurie Engineering Center

Maya Lin’s Wave Field
Francois-Xavier Bagnoud Building

Francois-Xavier Bagnoud Building

North Campus Reflecting Pool
Herbert H. Dow Building

Electrical Eng & Computer Science

198

North Woods Landscape Design

Dow GG Brown Connector

Space Physics Research Laboratory

Space Physics Research Laboratory

Computer Center

Industrial Technology Institute

Industrial Technology Institute

Pierpont Commons Addition
Child Care Center

North Campus Family Housing Center

199
1990s New Buildings and Renovations on the UM Medical Campus

Taubman Health Care Center
Medical Science Research I, II, III

Cancer Center

C. S. Mott Children’s Hospital
Women’s Hospital,
Maternal & Child Health Care Center

Medical Center Drive
Parking Structure

University of Michigan Observatory Restoration

East Medical Complex
Plymourh Road

200
1990s New Buildings and Renovations on the UM South Campus

Michigan Stadium (and turf)

Golf Course Improvements

Tennis Center

Donald B. Canham Natatorium

Donald B. Canham Natatorium

Glenn E. Schembechler Hall

William D. Revelli Band Rehearsal Hall

Weidenbach Administration Building

Continuing Legal Education

1990s New Buildings on the UM Flint Campus

Murchie Science Building

Frances W. Thompson Library

201

The North Woods Plan for the North Campus

The Plant Department presented us with a
montage of several of the major capital projects.

competition involving several of the nation’s leading
planning firms to develop a new landscaping plan
for the North Campus. A jury panel consisting of
Michigan’s North Campus deans selected a very novel
design submitted by the firm of Johnson, Johnson, and
Roy. Their Northwoods plan created an exciting new
character to the North Campus, based on two circular
areas surrounded by plantings, fountains, streams, and
community areas. Throughout 1995 and 1996 the first
steps were taken to execute this plan, concurrently with
the completion of the Media Union, the Lurie Tower,
and the Lurie Engineering Center. Yet, in 1997, with the
arrival of a new president, all such actions were once
again brought to a halt and remain suspended to this
day.
Unfortunately both the North Woods master plan
and further construction on the North Campus was
stagnant until the mid-2000s when the Walgreen Center
for Performing Arts was built.

preparation, by the Mott foundation, as the first stage of
a major expansion of the campus.

UM-Dearborn and UM-Flint
The University’s regional campuses in Dearborn
and Flint were certainly not left out of this renewal
process. Indeed, both campuses experienced even more
of an investment in facilities, on a per student basis,
than the Ann Arbor campus. UM-Dearborn benefited
from new classroom and laboratory facilities, while
UM-Flint brought on line a new science laboratory,
library, and administrative center. Further, UM-Flint
was given the AutoWorld site, along with funds for site

Concluding Remarks
While the rebuilding and/or major renovation of
most of the University’s campuses during the decade
was an extraordinary accomplishment, of comparable
long-term importance was the massive effort to
eliminate the deferred maintenance backlog that had
arisen during the 1970s and 1980s. Furthermore major
efforts were made to provide ongoing support for
facilities maintenance so that such backlogs would not
arise again in the future.
By 1996, essentially all of our projects to rebuild
the University of Michigan were either completed,
underway, or funded. Over the next two years several
dozen of these facilities projects would be completed
and dedicated. During spring of 1996 the University
had managed to obtain a commitment to provide
an additional $137 million of state appropriation,
including $79 million for the Ann Arbor campus. This
amount was sufficient to complete the renovation of the
Central Campus, including the last key LS&A facilities:
the LS&A Building, Haven Hall, Mason Hall, Frieze
Hall, West Hall, and the Perry Building. Since this
required a 20% University match, the University had
developed a funding plan that would use University
funds to renovate Hill Auditorium and the Rackham
Building as the University’s contribution (in fact, $20
million was set aside for the Hill project). Since Farris

202

Groundbreaking duties: Years of working on a highway construction crew trained Jim for this Presidential role.

203
Womack and I had realized that construction costs were
likely to increase rapidly with a prosperous economy,
we arranged to have these projects fast-tracked with the
intent to have them completed by late 1998.
The funding was in place, the plans had been
completed, and the University was ready to proceed
through the state capital construction process.
Unfortunately, these important projects came to a halt
in 1997 with the arrival of a new University president,
Lee Bollinger. At that time a decision was made to hire
a new campus master planning architect, Venturi, Scott,
Brown, led by noted architect Robert Venturi (who
Bollinger had worked with on projects at Dartmouth).
All such projects were put on hold for several years to
allow the development of a new master plan. Although
Bollinger eventually moved ahead with the Venturidesigned Life Sciences Institute (ironically a repeat of
an earlier Venturi design of a larger biomedical sciences
laboratory at Yale), there was little effort to resume
the projects to renovate important Central Campus
academic buildings. During this delay, the original
construction estimates of $80 million later soared to
over $300 million because of the delay. The master plan
for completing the North Campus met a similar fate.
Although the University benefited greatly from the
successful effort to rebuild the various campuses of the
University, it was frustrating to see the effort halted
when it was so close to completion.

204

An aerial photograph of the University of Michigan campus (2014)

The University’s Central Campus (2014)

205

The University’s Medical Campus (2014)

The University’s North Campus (2014)

206

Chapter 14

The End Game
One of the greatest challenges to the contemporary
university presidency is knowing when and how to step
aside. Note here the two questions: when and how. For in
many ways, knowing “when to hold and when to fold”
is far more straightforward a decision than figuring out
how to do it. The challenge is to dismount a bucking
bronco without getting trampled in the process. And
this was a concern as we prepared to enter our tenth
year as members of the central administration.
Sooner or later, several facts of life begin to dawn on
most university presidents. They become increasingly
aware of just how much of their time is spent doing
things they do not really like to do, such as stroking
potential donors for gifts, lobbying politicians,
pampering governing board members, and flying the
flag at numerous events—football games, building
dedications, political rallies—that eventually become
rather boring. This is particularly true for those who
come from academic ranks, since these are just the
kind of activities that most faculty members avoid like
the plague. Presidents also begin to notice how much
of their time is spent with people that most faculty
members would choose to avoid, including politicians,
reporters, and bureaucrats of various persuasions.
Finally, they realize how much of their role has become
that of a lobbyist, a huckster, or, worse, a sayer of things
they know to be exaggerations, intentionally confusing,
or even (for some) mildly false. These are all warning
signs that a university president is outgrowing the job—
or at least growing weary of its trials and tribulations.
Of course, one approach is to simply accept a job
elsewhere and leave. Some presidents move like
gypsies from one university to another, typically
staying five years or so at each before moving on to
the next. Sometimes, their progression is upward,
through institutions of higher and higher distinction.

But just as frequently, the transition is sideways or
even downward, leading one to suspect, in many cases,
that the president has left just before the fall of the ax.
Other presidents move into retirement, although this
is becoming more of a rarity as presidents end their
service at ever-younger ages. Some—although few and
far between—return to active faculty roles, although
very rarely in the institution they have led.
In private universities, presidents usually are
allowed to step down with honor, grace, and dignity
and return to the faculty or retire completely from
academic life. In sharp contrast, many public university
presidents these days end their tenure by stepping on
a political land mine. Sometimes, they run afoul of
their governing board or faculty discontent or even
the intrusion of a powerful political figure, such as
a governor determined to control the state’s public
universities. Occasionally there is a triggering event,
such as a financial crisis or an athletic scandal. But
more frequently, it is the continued wear and tear of
university leadership that eventually leads to a personal
decision that enough is enough, that the further sacrifice
of health and good humor is simply not worth it.
Whatever the reason, many presidents who have served
their institutions well, with deep commitment, loyalty,
and considerable accomplishment, all too frequently
leave bitter and disappointed. One of the greatest fears
of many presidents, particularly those leading public
universities, is that they will not be able to control the
endgame of their presidency and will be savaged by
hostile political forces and perhaps even severed from
the very institution on whose behalf they have worked
so hard and sacrificed so much.
There were many factors that eventually persuaded
both Anne and me that it was time to step aside as
president. Since I had served both as acting president

207
during Harold Shapiro’s sabbatical and then as provost
and “president-in-waiting” for roughly two years
prior to being inaugurated as president in 1988, I was
approaching the 10-year point in my leadership of the
university. I was already second in seniority among
Big Ten presidents (serving as chairman of the Big Ten
Conference) and sixth in longevity among the 60 AAU
presidents. Hence, as Anne and I approached a new
academic year in 1995, it was natural to take stock of
how far the university had come and what the road
ahead looked like. And, of course, the accumulation of
scars from battles fought and doubts from efforts failed
continued to accumulate.

The Two-Minute Warning
Looking back, we would identify three quite
separate phases in my presidency. The early phase
involved setting the themes of challenge, opportunity,
responsibility, and excitement and developing a vision
for the future of the university. During this phase,
much of our time was spent meeting with various
constituencies both on and off campus, listening
to their aspirations and concerns, challenging and
encouraging them, harvesting their ideas and wisdom,
and attempting to build a sense of excitement and
optimism about the future of the university. This
period marks the establishment of some of my
administration’s most important strategic directions
for the university: for example, the Michigan Mandate,
financial restructuring, the Campaign for Michigan,
the Undergraduate Initiative Fund, NSFnet and the
Internet, and numerous international activities. This
bottom-up visioning process was assisted by numerous
small groups of faculty and staff, some formal, some
ad hoc.
The second phase of leadership, while not so public,
was equally substantive, since it involved developing
and executing an action plan to move toward the
vision. Key were a series of strategic initiatives
designed to position the university for the leadership
role. These ranged from the appointment of key leaders
at the level of executive officers, deans, and directors, to
setting new standards for academic and administrative
quality, to rebuilding our campuses, to a bold financial
restructuring of Michigan as the nation’s first privately

supported public university. Largely as a result of these
efforts, the university grew rapidly in strength, quality,
and diversity during the early 1990s. One by one, each
of the goals we had set was achieved.
During this decade-long effort, begun with Harold
Shapiro during my provost years, the university made
remarkable progress. Due to the extraordinary talents,
commitment, and depth of the leadership team (not
to mention a great deal of luck), we had been able to
accomplish essentially everything we had originally
set out as goals. The institution had been restructured
financially and was now as strong as any university
in the nation. The Campaign for Michigan, with over
a year yet to go, had surpassed its original goal of $1
billion. The endowment had passed $2 billion, almost 10
times the amount we began with. Minority enrollments
and faculty representation had doubled as a result
of the Michigan Mandate. Michigan had surpassed
MIT and Stanford University in research volume, to
become the nation’s leading research university. The
massive $2 billion effort to rebuild the university’s
campuses was approaching completion, with over a
dozen new building dedications already scheduled in
the year ahead. Not only was our senior leadership
team—executive officers, deans, and administrative
directors—highly regarded as one of the strongest in the
nation, but talent ran deep throughout the university
administration and staff. Furthermore, most of our
enemies in state and federal government had either
been vanquished or had long since moved on, leaving
us with relatively strong support among various
external constituencies—including, for a change, even
the state’s media.
By the mid-1990s, our administration began to
shift the university into a third phase, shifting from a
positioning effort to a transformation agenda. I had
become convinced that we were entering an era of
great challenge and opportunity for higher education,
characterized by a rapid and profound transformation
into a global knowledge society. I realized that the task
of transforming the university to better serve society
and to move toward a new vision for the century ahead
would be challenging. Perhaps the greatest challenge
of all would be the university’s very success. It would
be difficult to convince those who had worked so hard
to build a leading public university of the twentieth

208

One by one, all of the items on the “To Do” charts were being crossed off.
century, that they could not rest on their laurels, that the
old paradigms would no longer work. The challenge of
the 1990s would be to reinvent the university to serve a
new world in a new century.
It was clear that the transformation agenda of
the university would require wisdom, commitment,
perseverance, and considerable courage. It would
require teamwork. It would also require an energy
level, a “go for it” spirit, and a sense of adventure.
Of course all of these features had characterized the
university during its past eras of change, opportunity,
and leadership. These were, in fact, important elements
of the institutional saga of the University of Michigan.
During this final phase, we launched a series of
initiatives aimed at providing the university with
the capacity to transform itself to better serve a
changing world. Several of these initiatives were
highly controversial, such as the launch of several
cutting-edge academic programs (e.g., the Center for
Molecular Medicine and the School of Information),
a new system for decentralized budgeting that
transferred to individual units the responsibility for
both generating revenues and meeting costs, and a
new approach to academic outreach involving the
Internet (leading to the creation of the Michigan Virtual
University), and the massive digitization of scholarly

materials (JSTOR). Hence, it was important that, as
president, I returned once again to a more visible role.
In a series of addresses and publications, I challenged
the university community, stressing the importance of
not only adapting to but relishing the excitement and
opportunity characterizing a time of change.
The more difficult transformation effort was well
under way, with the key strategic initiatives in place,
important planning teams and faculty commissions
up and running, and extensive communications efforts
continuing to both educate and engage on-campus
and off-campus constituencies. Many of our most
important experiments were launched and coming
up to speed. New facilities, such as the Media Union.
the School of Social Work, and the Cancer Center were
nearing completion. Furthermore, we were grooming
the next generation of leaders and had begun the search
effort for several key positions, including provost, dean
of graduate studies, and executive vice president for
medical affairs.
Hence, there was every reason to feel satisfied
as Anne and I walked amid the construction cranes
on campus in the summer of 1995, with yet another
academic year soon upon us. But I hinted at my deeper
concerns in a passage contained in several of my
speeches to the campus community and various alumni

209
groups during the spring of 1995:
I believe the UM is as strong as it has ever been right
now, . . . better, stronger, more exciting. That is due to
the efforts of an enormous number of people, obviously. I
inherited the fruits of the financial wisdom of Harold Shapiro,
the diplomatic-political skills of Robben Fleming, and an
enormous number of talented faculty and executive officers
who brought us to this point. Yet while Michigan is very
strong right now, it is also a time when institutions of higher
education are being asked to change very dramatically to
serve a changing world, just as other social institutions are.
And leading an institution during a time of change, during a
time of transformation, puts an additional stress on the entire
system.
I had become increasingly convinced that the
university needed to undergo a further series of
profound transformations and that this period would
require sustained leadership for many years. Both Anne
and I were increasingly concerned about whether we
would be able to sustain the energy and drive necessary
to lead Michigan through such an extended period.
Another related consideration was the very nature
of the activities I saw as necessary for the university in
the years ahead. In part because our progress had been
so rapid, I began to look farther ahead—five years, a
decade, even a generation or more into the future. I
became more interested in blockbuster goals than in
the incremental and opportunistic approach of our
earlier efforts. I sought larger agendas than those that
could be addressed by Michigan alone, agendas that
would require new coalitions at the national and even
international level.
Although I had a personal vision for the future
of the University of Michigan, I also realized that
there were many questions involving the evolution
of higher education that remained unanswered. As a
scientist, I preferred to look at the decade ahead as a
time of experimentation, in which leading universities,
such as Michigan, had both an unusual opportunity
and a responsibility to explore new paradigms of the
university. Looking through my notes from that period,
it is clear today that my sense of the challenges and
opportunities facing higher education in general and
the University of Michigan in particular were moving

Has the time come?...
ever farther beyond the perceptions of my colleagues.
Although I had a very strong interest in leading
progressive efforts, I began to question whether I could
do so in my role as president. The ongoing roles of the
presidency must continue—as chief executive officer
for the institution; its lead promoter and fund-raiser;
the shepherd tending its many flocks; and defender of
its values, missions, and quality. I became increasingly
concerned about whether I could build sufficient
regental understanding and support for this bolder
agenda, particularly when the board was becoming
increasingly divided. Although many faculty and staff
in the university were excited and energized by the
boldness of the transformation agenda, many others
were threatened. Hence, awareness began to build
that my next stage of leadership for higher education
might best be accomplished from elsewhere, far from
the politics of the presidency and the glare of the media.
It was becoming increasingly clear that as I challenged
the university to change in more profound ways to
serve a changing world, I would gradually exhaust my
political capital.

210
Ironically, Anne and I were forced to think a bit
more seriously about our future when two regents of
the University of California flew out to visit us over
a Memorial Day weekend to discuss the possibility
of the UC system presidency. This was probably the
only leadership position in the nation more complex
than Michigan, with nine major campuses and three
national laboratories. This, combined with our earlier
experiences in California, compelled us to at least
consider the possibility of the UC presidency. The
University of California had looked earlier to Michigan
for its leadership, tapping UM provost Roger Heyns for
chancellor of the University of California, Berkeley, in
the 1960s and approached Robben Fleming about the
UC presidency in the 1970s.
But for us, there were serious drawbacks to the UC
presidency, not the least of which was the intent of the
UC Regents to pass a motion to ban the use of affirmative
action in admissions (a decision later reinforced by
California’s Proposition 209). Such a policy would have
placed me in almost immediate conflict with both the
UC governing board and the state of California, in view
of my successful efforts through the Michigan Mandate
to build diversity at Michigan. But more significantly,
Anne and I also realized that we had invested far too
much in serving the University of Michigan to simply
walk away.
Yet perhaps it was in this effort to take stock of
what we had accomplished and what remained that
we began to think more seriously about just how much
longer we could serve. Early in the fall of 1995, as Anne
and I walked through the campus and saw all the new
buildings and landscaping and went to events to meet
the new faculty, we had an increasing sense that our
job might be complete. After all, we were entering our
eighth year in the presidency, a term comparable in
length to the terms of our predecessors and longer than
average for public university presidents.

Fate Strikes Again
As fate would have it, another factor became
the straw that broke the camel’s back, pushing us
to a decision to step down after 8 years at the helm:
this was the deteriorating support provided by the
university’s board of Regents. As a result of the 1994

elections, the board of Regents had become badly
fragmented—in political beliefs (it was composed
of four conservative Republicans and four labor-left
Democrats), in generation (four young Regents resisted
the leadership of more senior members of the board),
and in relations with the university (four Regents who
were Ann Arbor residents were regularly lobbied by
students, faculty, and staff on various agendas). But
more seriously, the long-standing senior leadership
of the board, its chair and vice-chair, were defeated in
the 1994 elections. The four-to-four political division of
the newly elected board made it difficult for members
to agree on new leadership. Several regents soon
reached the conclusion that the board would remain
dysfunctional until a new political majority could be
reestablished. One regent even stressed to me that my
role must become that of protecting the university from
its governing board during this stalemate. As a sign of
the difficulties to come, the board finally assigned its
most senior member, ironically the most disruptive
maverick (in whom they had little confidence), with the
task of being the primary interface with the president
and administration—a decision perhaps meant to send
a signal of the eroding support by some members of the
new board.
As a result, the executive officer team was forced
to deal with a governing board without any internal
structure whatsoever—no chair or even party caucus
leadership. Although I, as president, had constitutional
authority to preside over the meetings of the board,
I did so without a vote. Hence, with a four-to-four
political split, it became increasingly time-consuming
to obtain the additional vote to achieve a majority
on matters of importance, such as setting tuition or
approving property acquisitions, and to avoid getting a
majority vote on issues that could harm the university,
such as the rejection of the Michigan Mandate diversity
agenda or our student disciplinary policy. The political
divisions on the board, its inability to agree on many
issues, and its instability made the executive officers
increasingly tentative, always concerned that the
regents might fail to support them or even attack them
publicly on one agenda or another.
A badly divided governing board can take a
considerable toll on the executive officers, the university,
and the president. Roughly one-third of my time was

211
spent dealing one-on-one with various regents because
of their inability to trust one another. Regent intrusion
into such areas as finance, personnel, state politics, and
athletics was particularly excessive, placing added
pressure on the executive officers responsible for these
areas.
It soon became apparent that the changing character
of the board not only had put our strategy at risk but
was also increasingly threatening the University. The
Executive Officer team eventually concluded that we
had no choice but to narrow our agenda, stressing
only those efforts we believed could be completed
over the next year or two and lashing down the wheel
to prepare for the stormy seas ahead. Since it was also
becoming increasingly clear that my own tenure might
be shortened considerably by an intrusive governing
board, we began to lock in place a series of key actions—
for example, developing the responsibility center
management structure and endowment investment
strategy and protecting university financial reserves—
and moved even more aggressively to decentralize
authority to the unit level. Needless to say, developing
and executing this doomsday strategy was depressing
at times, particularly in view of the extraordinary
progress that the university had made over the past
decade. But in the end, we became convinced that our
responsibility to the institution and to those it would
serve in the future demanded such downside strategies.
This was the atmosphere surrounding the University
administration as I approached my last year in the
Michigan presidency. It was the calm before the storm,
characterized by both a sense of satisfaction about
remarkable accomplishments of the past decade and
a growing dread of the damage that, despite the best
efforts of several regents to heal divisions among their
colleagues, an increasingly divided governing board
was capable of inflicting on the institution as some
members pursued their political and personal whims.
Finally, following a particularly difficult week in
early fall, when several of the regents undercut my
efforts to recruit a new provost, I realized that the
oscillations of the board were becoming increasingly
unstable and dysfunctional. Hence, I concluded that
the best way to stabilize the board, regain control of the
agenda, and refocus the university on academic issues
once again was to use the visibility of my resignation

and a year as lame duck to regain command. This
was not an easy decision (at least as far as timing was
concerned), but sometimes the general has to fall on his
sword to save his army.
My decision was announced simultaneously to the
Regents, the university community, and the world (via
the Internet). By carefully designing both the tone of the
announcement and its broad release, I tried to take the
high ground and set the right context for the decision
as the key paragraph in my letter to the board indicates.
After considerable thought, Anne and I have decided
that the university, the board, and the two of us would be
best served if I was to retire from the presidency at the end
of the current academic year (June 30, 1996). This would
provide the Regents with both the opportunity and the time
to conduct a search for a new president. It would also allow
me to keep the university on course, hold together a stable
leadership team, and prepare for a graceful transition back to
the faculty. We ask only for the respect, honor, and dignity
that our efforts and accomplishments merit through service
both as president and as dedicated members of the university
for the past 27 years.
Anne and I were deluged by hundreds of letters
of support and thanks, which were reassuring.
Fortunately, the Regents’ new role in searching for and
selecting a successor soon smoothed the controversies
on the board, while most people close to us understood
and accepted our decision as yet another of our efforts
to serve the University. After the flurry of dinners and
receptions hosted by various groups to honor and thank
us for our efforts on behalf of the University, it was
only appropriate that we return the favor. We hosted
events designed to thank the staff that had worked so
hard to support us: the President’s Office team, the staff
supporting the President’s House and Inglis House,
and the staff from the Plant Department that kept these
historical facilities running.

Taking Stock
In 1996, Anne and I handed off a university that
not only benefited from the highest academic program
rankings in its history but had become regarded
nationwide as a leader and an innovator. Michigan led

212

Presidential farewells from alumni, executive officers, deans,
faculty, staff, students, and the President’s Office team.

213

The students provided their own documentation:
A quilt of T-shirts of student organizations

The “Sunflower Book”:
A documentation of progress...

the nation in the magnitude of its research activities. It
had the most successful medical center in the nation.
It had achieved national leadership in information
technology, playing a key role in building the Internet.
It had become the strongest public university in the
nation in a financial sense, as evidenced by the fact that
Wall Street gave it its highest credit rating, AAa, in 1996
(along with the University of Texas, the only two public
universities in the nation to receive this rating). A CBS
News segment on the University of Michigan in 1995
observed, “While America has a number of world-class
universities, Michigan truly stands in a class by itself.”
More specifically, by the time I stepped down,
Michigan’s endowment had surpassed $2.5 billion, an
increase of almost tenfold. The Campaign for Michigan
was nearing completion, raising over $1.4 billion,
40 percent beyond its original goal. The university’s
portfolio of resources was far more balanced, with
tuition revenue increasing to over $500 million per year,
and private support (gifts received plus endowment
payout) had passed $260 million per year, clearly on
track to surpass my administration’s goal of exceeding
state support by the end of the decade.
The campus environment for teaching and research

had been improved significantly. All of the university’s
campuses—UM Ann Arbor, UM Dearborn, and UM
Flint—were essentially rebuilt, with over $2 billion of
new construction and renovation, all paid for with little
debt left for our successor. The campuses had also been
re-landscaped, and new master plans had been not only
adopted but achieved. As the quality of the campus
was improved, a new sense of pride appeared within
the campus communities (particularly among the
students), resulting in a dramatic decrease in littering
and other activities that defaced the environment.
There was also a significant change in the quality
and style of university events and facilities. Both the
President’s House and Inglis House had been completely
renovated. There was a new level of quality achieved
in university advancement events. The university
had also begun to reconnect itself with its remarkable
past, developing a new sense of understanding and
appreciation for its history and traditions and restoring
historically important facilities, such as the Detroit
Observatory.
The student body was characterized by a new
spirit of leadership and cooperation. Such programs as
Leadership 2017 attracted a new generation of leaders,

214

Actually, such a tribute for our years of leadership was only wishful thinking. Instead the Michigan Marching Band
spelled out “Thanks” for the successful $1.4 billion fund-raising campaign that we led (but LB claimed).
and fraternities and sororities accepted a new sense
of responsibility for their activities. Although initially
difficult to implement, the student code and campus
police had become valuable contributions to the quality
of campus life. This was augmented by a major effort to
improve campus safety, including the improvement of
lighting, transportation, and security.
Michigan athletics had evolved far beyond its
football-dominated history, to achieve leadership
across a broad range of men’s and women’s sports.
Furthermore, Michigan became the first major
university in America to achieve full gender equity
in varsity opportunities. The Michigan Mandate and
Michigan Agenda for Women had a dramatic impact on
the campus, doubling the number of underrepresented
minorities among Michigan’s students, faculty, staff,
and leadership; breaking through the glass ceiling to
appoint women to senior leadership positions; and
creating a new appreciation for the importance of a
diverse campus community.
The external relations of the university were back
on track. There were strong teams in place in Lansing,
Washington, development, and alumni relations. The
university also benefited from what was regarded as
one of the strongest leadership teams in the nation
at the level of executive officers, deans, and senior
administrative staff—although, unfortunately, many

of these were to leave early in the tenure of the next
president.
Not to say that there were no remaining problems.
The Regents still suffered from a political selection
process that posed a gauntlet to many qualified
candidates. The state’s sunshine laws had become
increasingly intrusive and were clearly hampering the
operations of the university. A scandal was uncovered
in the men’s basketball program that would plague
future presidents. Prospects for the restoration of
adequate state support continued to look dim.
Yet in assessing the decade of leadership from 1986
to 1996, it is clear that the university made remarkable
progress. It approached the twenty-first century better,
stronger, more diverse, and more exciting than ever,
clearly positioned as one of the leading universities
in the world. During this decade, the University of
Michigan completed the ascension in academic quality
launched years earlier by Harold Shapiro. Its quality and
impact across all academic disciplines and professional
programs ranked it among the most distinguished
public and private universities in the world.
As the strategic focus of my administration shifted
from building a great twentieth-century university to
transforming Michigan into a twenty-first-century
institution, a series of key initiatives were launched
that were intended as seeds for a university of the

215
future. Certainly, highly visible efforts, such as the
Michigan Mandate and financial restructuring, were
components of this effort. However, beyond these were
numerous exciting initiatives led by many of our most
distinguished faculty members and designed to explore
new paradigms for higher education.
Fortunately, in 1996, as we approached the end of
our years in the presidency, the state of Michigan and
America were entering what would become the most
prosperous time for higher education in many years.
State support was relatively generous, and a booming
equity market (the “dot-com” boom) stimulated
strong private giving and endowment growth. The
university coffers were filled. A strong leadership team
of executive officers, deans, and administrative staff
were in place, and numerous important initiatives were
running in high gear. Hence, when I stepped down
from the presidency, the future of the university seemed
secure—at least for the moment.

The Lame-Duck Year
During our last, lame-duck year in the presidency,
the pace of activity certainly did not slow down. The
transformation effort moved ahead, as did other major
efforts, such as various academic initiatives, the fundraising campaign, the major capital facilities projects,
and the effort to strengthen support of the university
from both state and federal government. The effort to
appoint a new provost was put on hold, to preserve the
prerogative of the next president. Fortunately, we were
able to entice one of our senior deans, Bernie Machen,
dean of dentistry, to serve in the interim role. Bernie was
highly respected by the deans and executive officers,
and although my successor, Lee Bollinger, would look
elsewhere for his provost, Bernie went on to highly
successful presidencies at the University of Utah and
then the University of Florida.
As I mentioned earlier, unlike Harold Shapiro, I
found that my power, responsibility, and accountability
continued undiminished, with major decisions put on
my desk up to my final day as president in the summer
of 1996. Since people realized that Anne and I fully
intended to remain at the university as active members
of the faculty and community, they trusted us to do
what was best for the institution up until the very end

Moon over the Media Union
of our tenure.
Anne turned much of her personal attention to
providing encouragement and support to the deans
and executive officers during the transition. Since most
organizations, whether in government, commerce,
or higher education, tend to experience a significant
turnover in executive leadership whenever the new
CEO arrives, we attempted to provide both reassurance
and some protection for our team (although the local
newspaper once again pounced on these efforts in an
effort to stir up controversy).
We arranged to move our activities, including Anne’s
growing activities in University history, into one of the
last major building projects of my administration, the
Media Union. However since it would not be finished
until later in the fall, I took up temporary quarters in a
small office in the North Campus Commons, a dining
and meeting facility. In a sense, I was moving back to
the same part of the Michigan campus where I had
begun my academic career 30 years earlier, although
my new career would be quite different.
It is appopriate to stress once again that one of the
most important objectives for a university president is
to make certain that you pass along your institution
to your successor in better shape than you received
it. Anne and I had committed ourselves to achieving
this objective during our tenure in the presidency and
achieved this goal, thanks to the talent and efforts of
the hundreds of members of our administrative team
and the thousands of students, faculty, and staff. Hence,
we hoped that we would be welcomed back to the
University family as I rejoined the faculty and Anne
would continue her service to the University.

216
Perhaps symbolic of this return, on the last night
of the Duderstadt presidency, I snapped a blurred
photograph of the moon rising over our new place at
Michigan, the Media Union (that eight years later would
acquire a new name: the James and Anne Duderstadt
Center, or more simply, “the Dude”!).

217

Chapter 15

Fading Away Into Obscurity
Our decision to remain at the University of Michigan
following the presidency was rather unusual. Most
university presidential searches today end up selecting
candidates from outside. While these individuals bring
new ideas and experience, they usually do not have
the emotional attachment that comes from years of
service on the faculty or within the campus community.
Hence, when they step down from their presidency,
they usually do not remain as part of the university
community but rather move on to another institution
or retire from higher education entirely.
Anne and I were somewhat unusual in higher
education, since we had spent our careers at the same
institution that I would lead in the presidency. We had
many opportunities to go elsewhere. Yet we turned
away these approaches by saying, each time, that our job
was not yet complete at Michigan. Our commitment to
finish what we had started was firm. We did give some
thought to life after the presidency, as all presidents
should—particularly in a public university with a
political governing board.
In the negotiation associated with my decision to
continue for several more years of service following my
first five years as president, I followed a pattern set by
Harold Shapiro and negotiated a path to return to my
role as an active professor, but reporting to the provost
rather than to a particular academic unit. To indicate
the university-wide character of the appointment, the
regents approved the title “university professor of
science and engineering,” noting it was comparable
to an endowed chair. This was intended to be similar
to the titles University Professor at the University of
California or Institute Professor at MIT, indicating that
I would have an appointment in all of the University’s
schools and colleges and report directly to the provost.
In this way, I could both teach and conduct research in

any academic unit of the University and yet also avoid
the complexities of reporting to deans that I had hired.
Both Anne and I were provided with a small suite
of offices in one of the last buildings constructed on
the university’s North Campus during my presidency,
the Media Union. I was able to marshal sufficient
funds for a small staff and several student assistants
for a research project aimed at exploring over-thehorizon topics involving the impact of technology on
society, while Anne moved over her work on several
University history projects. Since the core of these funds
was intended to last only five years, ending in 2001, I
selected the name “Millennium Project”, which actually
would continue to survive for the next 20 years.
There were other interesting aspects of my transition
back to the faculty. It was decided to set my postpresidency salary initially at the average of the top three
faculty salaries in the College of Engineering and then
increase it each year at the University-wide average.
Although it is customary in higher education to provide
a faculty member serving in a senior leadership role
such as dean, executive officer, or president with a yearlong sabbatical leave when they step down, I felt it was
more important to begin my new teaching and research
duties immediately. In almost 50 years of service, I have
never taken a sabbatical leave from my academic duties
at the University. Although these cannot accumulate,
these forgone leaves have, in reality, provided the
University with roughly six years of my service on
a voluntary basis, and, of course, considerably more
volunteer service on the part of Anne.

A Professional Chairman
The first jarring transition after stepping down from
a senior leadership post is the loss of the strong support

218

New offices in the Media Union...
staff so necessary for the hectic life of a university
president. In the transition back to the faculty, it
soon becomes apparent that execution becomes more
important than delegation. One must learn once again
how to make travel arrangements, maintain a filing
system, use the copy machine, and make the coffee.
Calendar management also becomes a new
challenge. Although has-been presidents are expected
to be ghosts on their campuses, the former leaders of
such a prominent university as Michigan still retain
some visibility and credibility on the national stage. The
invitations to speak or participate in various activities
are quite numerous. The challenge, of course, is to
prioritize these opportunities into a coherent pattern.
Otherwise, one soon finds the calendar filled with too
many such commitments, leaving little time for other
activities, including the normal faculty pursuits of
teaching and research. In my own case, this overload
of opportunities was compounded by my continued
involvement with numerous state and national agencies,
including the National Science Board, the National
Science Foundation, the Department of Energy, and
the National Academies. Beyond this, I faced the very
pragmatic challenge of seeking longer-term funding
for my own research interests, since grantsmanship is
a requirement for any productive faculty role in science
and engineering.
It soon became apparent that beyond acquiring the
usual speaking and writing roles characterizing the
afterlife of a university president, I had become, in effect,
a “professional chairman,” because of the numerous

requests to chair various committees and task forces.
Apparently my colleagues thought that my experience
chairing a politically elected board of regents for many
years had prepared me for almost any chair assignment.
The assignments ranged from chairing a wide range of
National Academy groups on such topics as national
science policy, information technology, and science
education to advisory committees for federal agencies
on such topics as nuclear energy research and space
exploration. Michigan’s governor asked me to launch
a new Internet-based university, the Michigan Virtual
Automotive College—later renamed the Michigan
Virtual University—so I was once again a university
president, if only in a virtual sense.
Many of my speaking engagements were at the
invitation of my colleagues who were still sitting in the
saddle as active presidents. I referred to my role in such
engagements as that of a “professional two-by-four,”
recalling the old Missouri adage that, sometimes, to
get a mule to move, one has to first whack it over the
head with a two-by-four to get its attention. I would be
invited to a campus to meet with trustees, the faculty,
or even governors and legislators, to help them read the
writing on the wall about the future of higher education
and to raise such issues as tuition, tenure, and college
sports, which were dangerous territory for a sitting
president.
Fortunately, as I became more adept at calendar
management, I was soon able to define my own priorities
and began to resume my pre-presidency activities as an
author, although this time on subjects of current interest,

219

Back to writing books...

Developing history projects...

Laying out the new agenda...

Working with students...Molly Wagner, Alex Burrell

such as the future of the university, public higher
education, and intercollegiate athletics, rather than, as
in my past efforts, on such archaic subjects as nuclear
engineering and mathematical physics. I launched a
series of projects under the umbrella of my research
center, the Millennium Project, including exploring
the impact of rapidly evolving digital technologies on
learning, the development of strategies for assisting
states in evolving into knowledge economies, and the
future of engineering education.
Since I had considerable freedom in my teaching
activities, I arranged with the deans to develop and
teach an array of new courses scattered across the
university, depending on my interests of the moment.
These ranged from new undergraduate courses in
engineering to capstone courses developed for last-

term seniors in our liberal arts college to graduate-level
courses on information technology, nuclear technology,
science policy, and higher education. I was asked to
build a new program in science, technology, and public
policy within our Gerald R. Ford School of Public
Policy; to lead a university-wide effort to build a major
institute in energy research; and help the university
develop a strategy for information technology.

Pushed Into Exile:
The King Is Dead; Long Live the King!”
During our years of university leadership, we had
strived to treat our predecessors with great respect and
concern. Although Harold and Vivian Shapiro had left
for Princeton, we made every effort to acknowledge

220

The Harold and Vivian Shapiro Library

Anne, Sally, and Bob Fleming
in the Presidents’ Box

and honor their extraordinary impact on the University.
In keeping with long-standing University custom, we
arranged to have a major building named in their
honor. We gave them a choice, and they thought it most
appropriate to rename the Undergraduate Library as
the Harold and Vivian Shapiro Library, in part because
of its central role on the campus and its proximity to
the location of the original Department of Economics
where Harold had served. Anne helped to arrange a
dedication event, inviting their families and friends
back to campus.
Of course Anne and I had worked closely with Bob
and Sally Fleming throughout our years at Michigan
and particularly during the transition period preceding
my presidency and had established a strong friendship.
Anne was also a friend of Alene Smith. Hence it was
important to make certain that Bob and Sally Fleming
and Alene and Allen Smith–and later Harlan and Anne
Hatcher, when they returned to campus–were invited
to and welcomed at university activities including both
formal events such as commencement and convocations
as well as informal events we would host for the
executive officers and deans (e.g., events to launch the
fall term or celebrate holidays).
We also continued an important tradition launched
by the Shapiro’s by inviting former presidents and
spouses to join us in the President’s Box at Michigan
Stadium, in a sense redefining and naming it as the
Presidents’ Box for all university presidents. In fact,
as the Flemings became older and moved into assisted
living, Anne and I would take Bob and Sally both to the

tailgate events and then to the Presidents’ Box, bringing
them back home after the game. While it was clear that
the Flemings enjoyed this immensely, it was also clear
that members of the University community enjoyed
seeing them regularly at these events, reinforcing an
important link with Michigan’s history. Although
Harlan and Anne Hatcher were less active in these
events, we did arrange for Harlan to be present at the
basketball game when the great Michigan star, Cassie
Russell, had his jersey number retired, since Harlan
had been president during his Michigan team’s great
records.
It was therefore a surprise when we encountered
quite different treatment after returning to our earlier
roles in the University community. Actually, we
should have recognized that the efforts we had made
to involve our predecessors was unusual, at least in
public universities, since those of my colleagues who
had attempted to remain active on campus following
their years of service as president frequently found
themselves persona non grata to their successors. All
too frequently they were viewed as a threat to the new
regime (more frequently in myth than reality), and if not
successfully pushed off the campus or into retirement,
then at least buried and paved over as far as visibility
and engagement is concerned.
I remember well the “good news–bad news” advice
given me by a colleague who had also returned to the
faculty after long service as the leader of his campus.
First the bad news: He warned that life would be
difficult under my first successor, since in public

221
universities, there is usually a tendency for new
presidents to obliterate any evidence of the existence
of their predecessors—“The king is dead, long live the
king!” A retiring president will frequently be ignored—
if not buried and paved over. He noted that loyal
staff would be replaced and that programs would be
dismantled as the new leader tried to establish his or
her own agenda and steer the university in a different
direction.
However, my colleague also had some good news.
He suggested that my first successor would not last
very long, since, like an ocean liner, a university is very
hard to turn about, and efforts to attempt this usually
end in failure. Second, he believed that life could be
quite enjoyable under the subsequent successors,
who no longer would have any need to discount the
accomplishments of earlier predecessors and hence felt
comfortable welcoming them back once again as valued
members of the university community. Unfortunately,
we were to find that neither of our successors felt
very comfortable in continuing the relationships we
had established with our predecessors, a message
that quickly found its way through the University
administration leading to even more isolation on the
part of their staff.
For example, during the four year tenure of my first
successor, Lee Bollinger, I can recall only one face-toface discussion, ironically when running into him on
the jogging track in the weeks after he had announced
his decision to go to Columbia. He was curious how I
had put up with the politics of the Michigan presidency
over my eight years since he had only lasted four!
Actually, if he would have invited me for a chat from
time to time, I might have been helpful. Ironically, I had
been the one to elevate him from a faculty position to
become dean of our law school.
It was particularly irritating that as each of the many
buildings planned, funded, and constructed during our
years came on line, the role that Anne and I played in
both their planning and funding was not only totally
ignored, but we were usually not even invited to the
formal dedication ceremonies. For example, we read
in the University publications about the Cancer Center
dedication, so we decided to drop by for the occasion,
only to be asked why we had not attended the luncheon
proceding the event (which we didn’t even know

about, much less having been invited to). Similarly the
dedication of the new School of Social Work, funded
through a complex process we had developed both
with a donor and state government, we again happened
to notice in the newspaper but attended without
invitation.
Fortunately, we were able to plan the dedication of
one of the most important facilities of our era, the Media
Union, during our last month in the presidency, inviting
the governor to make remarks. (This was fortunate for
another reason, since in 2004 the University Regents
decided to honor our service in a long-standing
tradition for past university presidents by naming it the
James and Anne Duderstadt Center.)
Perhaps the most remarkable omission was the new
regime’s failure to invite or honor us during the major
celebration of the completion of the Campaign for
Michigan, the largest fund-raising effort in the history
of public higher education that my administration had
launched and succeeded in raising over $1.4 billion.
Anne and I sat quietly in the rear of the audience to
celebrate the succes of the campaign watching President
Bollinger and his adminstration take full credit for this
effort, even though they came on board after it was
essentially completed. It is worth noting here that
had he continued the effort for three more years, the
momentum of the Campaign would have taken it well
above $2 billion, making it the most successful in history
at the turn of the century. However, for whatever reason,
he decided to dismantle the fund-raising effort during
his brief tenure at Michigan, although he certainly did
not throttle back his enthusiasm for expensive new
facilities such as Life Sciences Institute and Palmer
Commons, which had to be funded from University
Hospital reserves.
As one by one, many of my colleagues completed
successful presidencies and attempted to return to
their faculties, most have had similar experiences. I
have always marveled at the ability of United States
presidents, albeit from vastly different eras and political
perspectives, to unite in a “Presidents’ Club” to serve
the needs of the nation. For whatever reason, many
university presidents have been unable to elevate the
interests of their institution to similar priorities over
their personal agendas by building strong bonds with
their predecessors.

222

Possible causes of the dramatic reversal of progress in UMAA’s diversity
Unfortunately this same tradition of showing the
door or burying former academic leaders also arises at
the level of deans and department chairs. This custom
is terribly damaging to higher education, since we try
to select the very best of our faculty to serve in these
critical position. We ask them to sacrifice years of
their academic life and other priorities to serve their
schools and colleges, and then ask them to step aside
after a decade or so without any assistance in helping
them to transition back into meaningful faculty roles.
Hence as they approach the last years of their tenure
as leaders, they are faced with the decision of leaving
the university, an institution that they have sacrificed
greatly to serve, if they are unable to find another
position further up the food chain (unlikely in most
cases). This is yet another example of “the king is dead;
long live the king” syndrome of higher education.
Among the other disappointments was the tragic
loss of the process we had made through the Michigan
Mandate in boosting Michigan to a national leader
in the diversity of its students, faculty, staff, and
leadership and the remarkable achievements of this
diverse institution. Unfortunately, in an effort to best
position the University for the court cases it would
face challenging affirmative action (which, ironically,
had never been high on our agenda to build a diverse
campus), the Bollinger team moved rapidly to shut

down all of the activities that had been so successful
in the Michigan Mandate. As a consequence, minority
participation began almost immediately to drop rapidly
in student enrollments, faculty hiring, and leadership
roles. The decline became even more precipitous
following the 2003 Supreme Court case and the arrival
of Mary Sue Coleman as president, and today has
dropped back below the appalling levels of the 1960s. It
has been frustrating indeed to see the complete reversal
in what was regarded by most as one of the most
important University achievements during the 1990s.
A second major disappointment concerned Michigan
Athletics, under the new University leadership put in
place athletic directors from the business world who
saw their major objective as transforming the Michigan
Wolverines into a highly commercial venture that would
lead the nation in revenues (although not necessary
winning records...) Michigan Stadium, Crisler Arena,
and Yost Arena were renovated to include premium
seating (i.e., sky boxes), and ticket prices both raised
dramatically and augmented by seat license fees to make
Michigan athletics the mostly costly in the national to
both patrons and students. Working closely with the
Big Ten Commissioner, Jim Delaney, the Big Ten was
restructured (rather destroyed) by adding Nebraska,
Maryland, and Rutgers to expand the audience for the
Big Ten Television Network.

223

Bollinger celebrating UM’s 1997 championship season

AD Dave Brandon’s new “wow” factor

What has been the result of this major shift toward
rampant commercialism over the past 15 years?
Michigan Athletics has been largely ripped apart from
both the University and the Ann Arbor community,
since few faculty members, students, or townspeople
can afford the commercial pricing imposed on these
activities. The “wow” factor introduced at the events
themselves has acquired the carnival character of
professional sports, perhaps not surprising since this
is what Michigan football, basketball, and hockey have
become (at least for all but the student-athletes). And
the performance of Michigan’s teams has dropped to
an all time low, e.g., with Michigan football’s record
against Ohio State now stands at 2 -11, while its recent
performances against Michigan State are 1-5. Not
exactly what one would regard as “the leaders and
best”...and certainly not in the tradition of Michigan
athletics.
There was one final disappointment characterizing
our return to the Michigan faculty family: the number
of our university friends that had drifted away during
our 15 years in academic administration. Fortunately
we managed to maintain some very close family
friends during our leadership years, including some
of those from our earliest days at Michigan (including
even friends from the Northwood housing days). And
Anne’s efforts to sustain the Faculty Women’s Club in
the years following our presidency certainly maintained
many friends in this organization.
Years later I would suggest that an astronomical
analog to the fate of many has-been university
presidents would be the Oort Cloud, that region a light-

year from the sun, so far away that it was difficult to
discern, but for where it is thought that comets may
originate. Here former university presidents are all too
frequently exiled, doomed to contemplate issues out of
sight, out of mind–although they are occasionally able
to launch provocative comets back toward the sun to
perturb the higher education solar system.

The Millennium Project
The Millennium Project at the University of
Michigan is a research center engaged in both the
study and creation of the future through over-thehorizon technologies. Located in the Media Union (aka
Duderstadt Center), the Millennium Project provided
a platform for exploring the impact of advanced
technology on social institutions. It also gave both Anne
and me an opportunity to explore how this technology
could be used to capture and articulate the character
and history of the University of Michigan in novel new
ways.
In some ways, the Millennium Project was designed
as the analog to a corporate R&D laboratory, an
incubation center, where new paradigms could be
developed and tested. Rather than being simply a
“think-tank”, where ideas are generated and studied,
the Millennium Project was a “do-tank”, where
ideas led to the actual creation of working models or
prototypes to explore possible futures. Like the famous
Lockheed Skunkworks, every so often the hanger doors
of the Millennium Project would open, and something
really new and interesting would be wheeled out and

224

The Michigan Marching Band apparently understands where big-time college sports is headed!
flown away.
Although the Millennium Project was launched in
1996 as a platform for our further academic activities,
with the University providing seed funding for an
initial five-year period (to the year 2001, the Third
Millennium), the project rapidly evolved to encompass
an unusually broad range of scientific, technological,
education, and policy issues, supported by both
government agencies and foundations.
The Millennium Project has been heavily involved
in activities exploring the impact of disruptive
technologies such as info-nano-bio technology that
evolve exponentially (e.g., Moore’s Law). Working
through the National Academies, I led a major effort
(the IT Forum) to assess the impact of information and
communications technologies on knowledge-intensive
organizations such as research universities, corporate
R&D laboratories, and national laboratories. Many
of these activities continued through the National
Science Foundation and other federal agencies with

Dan Atkin’s appointment as first director of NSF’s new
cyberinfrastructure division and my role as chair of the
NSF Cyberinfrastructure Advisory Committee.
We have also been very actively involved in studies
concerning the future of higher education in general and
the research university in particular. These have been
coordinated with national efforts (National Academies,
ACE, AAU, NASULGC, AGB, Educause), international
groups (the Glion Colloquium, OECD), and regional
efforts (e.g., Michigan, Ohio, North Carolina, Texas,
California, Missouri). Of particular note here were my
roles as a member of both the Secretary of Education’s
Commission on the Future of Higher Education (the
Spellings Commission), the Association of Governing
Boards’ Task Force on the State of the University
Presidency, and the National Academies study on the
future of the American research university.
Because of my experience with both the National
Science Board and the National Academies, I remained
heavily involved in national science and technology

225

The Millennium Project, The Duderstadt Center

The Michigan Energy Institute

policy. In particular, I chaired a major blue ribbon study
by the National Academy of Engineering concerning
the federal investment necessary to sustain the nation’s
technological leadership (a precursor to the “Gathering
Storm” report and the American COMPETES Act);
the National Academy’s Committee on Science,
Engineering, and Public Policy; and serving on the
guidance committees for studies of interdisciplinary
research and major scientific facilities.
I was given the assignment of building the new
Science, Technology, and Public Policy (STPP) program,
centered in the Ford School involving students and
faculty from across the University. The Rackham
Executive Board approved the offering of our new STPP
graduate certificate program, based on a five-course
sequence developed. We received a $610,000 grant from
the Dow Foundation to support a STPP postdoctoral
program for five years, which added to our capacity
to expand both instructional and research activities
(including both the introduction of an undergraduate
course and Washington-based internships).
After serving two years as chair of both a committee
exploring major energy research activities as well as the
executive committee of the Michigan Memorial Phoenix
Project, I merged these committees into a universitywide Michigan Energy Research Council. The first
task of this new body has been to develop a plan for
creating the Michigan Energy Institute as an umbrella
organization to coordinate and promote the University’s
energy research activities (already conducted at a
level of $35 million per year). Working closely with
Vice President Steve Forrest, a multiple-year plan was

developed for building upon the renovated Phoenix
Memorial Laboratory, while a combination of state,
federal, and private support to position the University
as a leader in multidisciplinary research in energy
sciences, applications, and policy, with particular
emphasis on transportation applications.
Our regional economic development studies aimed
at developing strategies for building the workforce
and knowledge infrastructure necessary to compete in
a global, knowledge-driven society and culminating
in The Michigan Roadmap, has triggered a great deal of
interest not only within Michigan but in other states
and nations. A broader activity involving the multiplestate Great Lakes region is moving ahead, working
in my role as a non-resident Senior Scholar with the
Brookings Institution.
Of final note was a low key effort we called “The
DaVinci Project”. The University’s North Campus
contains a formidable concentration of academic
programs characterized by the common intellectual
activities of creativity, invention, and innovation (e.g.,
art, architecture, music, engineering, information
technology, and design), along with unique commons
facilities such as the Media Union, the Chrysler
Center, and the Pierpont Commons. The presence of
the Walgreen Center for Performing Arts significantly
enhanced the character of this academic constellation,
once referred to by the North Campus deans as the
Renaissance Campus. With the growing priority of
the nation given to innovation as the key competency
required for economic prosperity and national security
in a “flat world”, it seemed natural to undertake

226
a major effort to better integrate and support joint
efforts among these academic units. The Millennium
Project continued to support multidisciplinary student
innovation projects with this philosophy
Largely stimulated by Anne’s strong interest in the
history of the University of Michigan, the Millennium
Project launched a number of activities designed
both to better document and elevate the awareness
of the important role that the University has played
throughout its history. Early efforts involved authoring
pictorial histories of both the College of Engineering to
celebrate its 150th anniversary, a massive photographic
history of the University, several books on important
University facilities such as the President’s House, the
Inglis Highlands estate, and the University campuses
through the seasons. Early biographic work included a
history of the University’s strategic planning activities
during our years in the presidency, as well as an early
draft of the current volume containing our memoirs
But beyond that, Anne led the effort to utilize
rapidly evolving digital technology to describe the
history and character of the University. This included
interactive websites, 3-D simulations of the University
campus during various periods of its history, and
various video and photographic media distributed in
digital formats. In addition Anne designed and led
students in developing a website (actually, a “web
portal) concerning the history of the University, which
is continuously evolving (http://milproj.dc.umich.
edu). More detail on these projects can be found in
Chapter 17.

The Media Union (aka the Duderstadt Center)
“Open to all those who dare to invent the future…
For students, faculty, staff, and even our far-flung
community of alumni, the Media Union offers a
radically new environment for learning, teaching,
and performing.
Both a physical commons for the North Campus and a
virtual commons for the entire campus–open twentyfour hours a day, seven days a week–the Media Union
will initially house:
An on-line library of the future
A laboratory for virtual reality
Interactive multi-media classrooms

High-tech theater and performance spaces
Cutting-edge design and innovation studios
But the most important part of this project is its
unpredictability. Creative people will continually
reshape its mission and determine its impact.”
(1996 Dedication Brochure for the Media Union)
The opening of the Media Union in 1996 was
a significant and tangible commitment by the
University of Michigan, in partnership with the State
of Michigan, to provide all members of the University
community access to some of the most sophisticated
and transformational tools of the emerging digital
revolution. Conceived as a model for the Library of the
Future–or perhaps even the University of the Future–
the North Campus deans viewed the Media Union
project as an effort to create a physical environment
to meet the rapidly changing character of teaching
and research for many years to come, in a sense of “…
designing a building full of unknowns.”
The University retained the architectural firm
descended from the famous architect, Albert Kahn,
who had designed much of the University campus in
the early 20th century, as well as many of the leading
buildings in Detroit. The design team of deans, faculty,
and staff responsible for the program of the new facility
envisioned it as more akin to the MIT Media Lab for
students and faculty of the North Campus academic
programs. It was designed as a high-tech collection
of studios, laboratories, workshops, performance
venues and gathering and study space for students. Its
original program statement in 1993 portrayed it as an
Internet portal to the world (since the Internet was still
rather new at that time). Although it was designed to
provide space for the library collections of the College
of Engineering and Schools of Art and Architecture,
its function as a “traditional” book-based library was
never a major part of the vision. Instead it was a place
intended for collaboration and innovation in teaching
and learning, a place where students, faculty, and staff
could access a technology-rich environment, a place
open to all “who dared to invent the future”.
More specifically, the resulting 250,000 square foot
facility, looking like a modern version of the Temple
of Karnak, contained over 500 advanced computer
workstations for student use. It had thousands of

227
network jacks and wireless hubs for students to connect
their laptops to work thoroughout the building or in its
surrounding plazas and gardens during the summer.
The facility contained a 500,000 volume library for art,
architecture, science, and engineering, but perhaps
more significantly, it was the site of several of our
major digital library projects (including the JSTOR
project, the first of the national digital libraries). There
was a sophisticated teleconferencing facility, design
studios, visualization laboratories, and a major virtual
reality complex. Since art, architecture, music, and
theater students worked side-by-side with engineering
students, the Media Union contained sophisticated
recording studios and electronic music studios. It
also had a state-of-the-art sound stage for digitizing
performances, as well as numerous galleries for
displaying the results of student creative efforts. To
serve the unique needs of students and faculty in these
areas, the Media Union was designed to open 24 hours
a day, seven days a week, so that students have roundthe-clock access to its facilities.
Over the past two decades since it opened, this
facility “full of unknowns” has become the home for
a large and evolving collection of new information
and communications technologies far beyond the
resources that any one school or college could acquire
and maintain. The Media Union’s collection of digital
assets and resources requires constant renewal with
the latest versions of software and hardware, and
an expert team of professionals who enable U-M
users to get up-to-speed and use them productively
for innovative research and teaching. Rationalizing
significant investments in cutting-edge resources by
enabling free access to a shared, expertly-supported
collection of assets has enabled a widespread culture of
innovation in digital technologies at the U-M. Students
and faculty are free both to envision and to lead, handson, change in disciplines being transformed by the
digital revolution – from engineering, the design arts
and medicine, to economics and government.
The Media Union rapidly became one of the most
active learning spaces in the University, providing
thousands of students with 7x24 hour access to rich
resources including libraries, advanced technology,
workshops, performance venues, and high quality
study and community gathering spaces. The center

has evolved into an innovative center for discovery,
learning, invention, innovation, demonstration, and
deployment utilizing state-of-the-art technologies and
facilities and assisted by expert staff. In a sense, it serves
as a new form of public good, an innovation commons,
where students and faculty would come to work
together with expert staff mentors to develop the skills
and tacit learning acquired through studios, workshops,
performance venues, and advanced facilities such as
simulation and immersive environments. It encourages
experimentation, tinkering, invention, and even play as
critical elements of innovation and creative design.
It also invites and enables the creation of highly
interdisciplinary teams of students and faculty
from various academic and professional disciplines,
providing a Greek agora, where people could exchange
knowledge and create new ideas working with
experienced staff.
In 2004, in keeping with a long-standing tradition
of naming an appropriate building after each former
president, the Media Union was renamed the James and
Anne Duderstadt Center, or more commonly known to
students simply as “the Dude”. Perhaps one student
best captured the role of the center when asked to
explain its purpose as: “The Dude is the place you go to
make your dreams come true!”

Activities on the Family Front
There were also major changes on the family
front. In fact, the Duderstadt family doubled in size
over the five years following our presidency. When
last they were mentioned, our daughters Susan and
Kathy had been married to John Iskander and Nathan
Schwadron, respectively, and the four had been rapidly
accumulating advanced degrees.
Susan and John were both board-certified
pediatricians with not only M.D.s but also M.P.H
degrees. They met doing their pediatric residencies
in Children’s Memorial Hospital in Chicago and then
moved to work in Neil Shulman’s rural clinic (portrayed
in the movie Doc Hollywood) near Albany, Georgia. After
several years they moved to Columbia, South Carolina
where John worked in public health, and Susan had her
first child, Eleanor. They then moved to Atlanta where
John worked in infectious diseases in the U.S. Public

228

Dedication of the James and Anne Duderstadt Center

229
Health Service at the Center for Disease Control while
Susan consulting with CDC in bioterrorism, while
having her second child, Jonas.
Kathy and Nathan both received their Ph.D.s at
Michigan in atmospheric science and space science,
respectively, while Kathy had her first child, Marina.
Nathan’s work took them to San Antonio where he
worked at the Southwest Research Institute on the IBEX
satellite project, while Kathy had her second child, Jane.

Their careers next took them to the Boston area (Natick)
where Nathan taught at Boston University while Kathy
taught physics at Newton High School. The family
finally moved once more to Durham, NH where both
accepted faculty research positions at the University of
New Hampshire.
The activities of our grandkids can best be told
through the following images.

230

Marina

231

Marina

232

Eleanor

233

Eleanor

234

Jonas

235

Jonas

236

Jane

237

Jane

238

The Duderstadt Grandkids

239

The Duderstadt Grandkids

240

The Duderstadts and the “Machine”

241

Chapter 16

Life after Leadership
So, what have the past two decades been like after
two decades in various university leadership activities?
Fortunately we can confirm that there can indeed be
an active life after returning to the faculty and campus
communities. To be sure, there are particular challenges
when one decides to return to university life at the same
campus one has led, not the least of an expectation that
one will remain largely unseen and unheard—or in our
case, we suppose invisible guardian angels would be a
more appropriate analogy.
Actually, it is possible to have considerable impact
built on the experience and external visibility gained
while serving and leading a university of Michigan’s
prominence. It is even possible to have greater influence
and impact after serving, at least beyond the campus,
since as a faculty member or member of the University
family, one not only has more time to think, but perhaps
more significantly, fewer constraints on one’s activities.
Put another way, leaving leadership roles, behind, one
regains those valuable prerogatives such as academic
freedom, freedom to think, and the opportunity to act
and serve in new ways.

Different Eras, Different Roles, and Careers
Perhaps the best way to consider this is to recognize
that while Anne and I have been part of the same
institution for almost 50 years, in reality each of us have
changed not just activities but entire careers every five
years or so.
In summarizing this for myself, I would identify
these transitions as shown below:
1960-65: Undergraduate education (training and
practice as an engineer)
1965-70: Building research career (training and work

in theoretical physics)
1971-75: Junior faculty: Teaching, PhDs, (teacher,
scholar, grantsmanship)
1976-80: Senior faculty: (Textbook writer, faculty
politician, computer geek)
1981-85: Dean of Engineering: (engineering administrator, fund-raiser)
1986-90: Provost, Acting President, President (university leadership)
1991-95: President, National Science Board (administration, higher ed policy, science policy)
1995-00: “Professional Chairman” (federal and global science and technology policy)
2001-05: National Academies, Federal and International agencies (science and technology leadership)
2006-10: State, National, Global Activities (science,
technology, higher ed leadership)
2011-15: More State, National, Global Activities (policy, writing, moving and shaking…)
Anne has also experienced similar transitions,
which I will list here, but wait until the next chapter to
describe in more detail how these have evolved.
1960-65: Undergraduate education (marketing and
management)
1964-70: Building a family…and moving to Michigan
1971-75: Building campus communities (e.g., Faculty
Women’s Club)
1976-80: Returning to campus for a liberal education
1981-85: Deanette and partner in leading the College
of Engineering
1986-90: Provostess, First Lady, and partner in
leading the University of Michigan
1991-95: First Lady, fund raiser, organizer, facilities

242
renovation, management
1995-00: Launch of major history project to build a
digital model of UM campus
2001-05: Research and author of books on UM
history and character
2006-10: Development of methods for collecting,
curating, and distributing digital resources on
UM history
2011-15: Advocating the importance of UM history,
particularly “Beyond the Bicentennial”

The National Center for Postsecondary Education at
Stanford University
The IT Advisory Committee for Yale University
Director of the Oberlin-Kalamazoo-UM Project
The
National
Partnership
for
Advanced
Computational Infrastructure
The Development of a Technology Strategy for the
Ontario Province
Strategic Roles for the Naval Postgraduate School in
Monterey, CA

It seems best to separate these experiences into
two chapters, first describing how I reinvented my
activities (and myself) over the past two decades, and
then turning to Anne’s considerable efforts to capture,
articulate, and preserve the University of Michigan’s
remarkable history.

And, of course, I continued to be involved in
numerous higher education activities both at Michigan
and at other universities across the country such
as the litigation concerning Michigan’s affirmative
action programs, numerous honorary degree and
commencement addresses, and various requests to
assist other universities in strategic planning.
I was also able to resume my writing activities,
publishing several books on some of the more
controversial issues facing university presidents,
including the future of the university, financing public
higher education, university and leadership, college
sports, the globalization of higher education, disruptive
technologies for universities, and the role of higher
education in economic development. A list of such
publications along with weblinks are provided in an
appendix to this book.
Some of these topics were too hot to handle while
president (particularly college sports), even if I had the
time. Fortunately, however, has-been presidents can
begin to talk and write about what they really think. Of
course these sensitive issues will still irritate powerful
people who can always find ways to get even. But as a
faculty member, one regains the protection of tenure.

Finishing Up Loose Ends
At the time of my return to the faculty after serving
for 15 years as dean, provost, and president, I was still
engaged in many ongoing activities:
National Science Board: Although my term as chair
of the NSB was about to end, I continued to direct
a major study by the Government-UniversityIndustry Research Roundtable on the future of
the research university.
The Michigan Virtual University: We already had
launched an effort to build one of the nation’s
first online learning institutions, the Michigan
Virtual Automobile College, authorized by the
State Legislature. For a brief period following
my service as UM’s president, I would serve
(in a volunteer service) as the president of its
successor, the Michigan Virtual University.
Corporate Directorships: I continued to serve on
the board of directors of two major corporations,
CMS Energy and Unisys, as well as a fellow of a
consulting company, Diamond Cluster.
There was also a continuation of various other
ongoing volunteer activities:

National and Global Affairs
Perhaps because of the experience of chairing
a publicly elected university governing board, a
presidentially appointed National Science Board,
and numerous other boards in higher education,
government, and corporations, I continued to get
tapped to lead various volunteer efforts. Several of the
activities are described below along with several tables
and illustrations.

243

National Academy of Engineering
Executive Council (member)
Search Committee for NAE President (chair)
National Policies for Engineering Research (chair)
A Flexner Report for Engineering Education,
Research, and Practice (chair)
As an elected member of the National Academy of
Engineering, I continue to play many roles both in the
Academy governance as well in many of its studies.
The most important of these concerned the future of
engineering research in the United States (which led
to the concept of translational research organizations
now implemented with the “innovation hubs” of the
Department of Energy and Department of Commerce)
and a more fundamental study of the changing nature
of engineering education, research, and practice.
National Research Council
Governing Board
Division of Policy and Global Affairs (chair)
The National Research Council is the principal
operating agency of the National Academy of Sciences,
the National Academy of Engineering (NAE), and
the Institute of Medicine (IOM) providing services
to the government, the public, and the scientific and
engineering communities. Its mission is to improve
government decision making and public policy, increase
public understanding, and promote the acquisition
and dissemination of knowledge in matters involving
science, engineering, technology, and health. Each
year, more than 6,000 NAS, NAE, and IOM members
and other volunteer experts serve on hundreds of
study committees or oversee roundtables, workshops,
cooperative research programs, or fellowship programs.
After serving in numerous roles as a member or
chair of various National Academy studies, I was asked
to chair the largest section of the National Research
Council, the Division of Policy and Global Affairs, with
an unusually broad mission of helping to improve
public policy, understanding, and education in matters
of science, technology, and health with regard to national
strategies and resources, global affairs, workforce and
the economy. The division is particularly charged to

identify and build synergy among the disciplines and
issue areas, and to promote interaction among science,
engineering, medicine and public policy. The division
includes a range of standing committees and boards
concerned with the vitality of the research enterprise
in the US and abroad. In that connection, the units of
the division focus particularly on the interaction of key
institutions central to science and technology policy,
on the standing of US research around the world and
cooperation with Science & Engineering bodies in
other countries, on the mission and organization of
federal research activities, and on the sources of future
manpower and funding for research. The division
consists of 17 standing committees and boards, with
oversight by the Policy and Global Affairs Committee,
which manages a diverse portfolio of activities.
PGA produces technical and policy reports, convene
workshops and conferences, collects and analyzes
data, and manages fellowship competitions. It also
represents the United States in international scientific
organizations, assists researchers subjected to human
rights violations, manages international exchanges
and collaborative research grants, conducts bilateral
dialogues on sensitive topics, and helps to build the
capacity of partner academies in developing countries.
National Academies Committee on Science,
Technology, and Public Policy
Federal Science and Technology Budget Analysis
Postdoctoral Education
Scientific Research in the States
Postdoctoral Appointments
The Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public
Policy (COSEPUP is a joint unit of the National Academy
of Sciences, National Academy of Engineering, and the
Institute of Medicine. Most of its members are current
or former members of the Executive Councils of the
three institutions. COSEPUP mainly conducts studies
on cross-cutting issues in science and technology
policy. It was chartered by the National Academies to
address the concerns and requests of the President’s
Science Advisor, the Director of the National Science
Foundation, the Chair of the National Science Board,
and heads of other federal research and development
departments and agencies, and the Chairs of key

244

245
science and technology-related committees of the
Congress. It also monitors key developments in U.S.
science and technology policy for the Academies’
leadership. COSEPUP studies are usually conducted
by special interdisciplinary panels comprising the
nation’s best scientific and engineering expertise. While
many studies are sponsored by government agencies,
COSEPUP procedures safeguard its studies from the
influence of sponsors or other outside groups.
National Academies
Studies on Information Technology
Scholarship in the Digital Age
Information Technology and the Future of the
Research University
The IT Council
The National Science Foundation
Education and Human Resources
Advisory Committee on Cyberinfrastructure (chair)
Strategic Planning
The Education and Human Resources Committee is
one of the standing bodies of the National Science Board.
After chairing this body during the 1980s, I was asked
to once again become a member in recent years. The
Advisory Committee for Cyberinfrastructure (ACCI)
provides perspective and advice to the National Science
Foundation on the Agency’s plans and programmatic
strategies to develop and support a state-of-the-art
cyberinfrastructure that enables significant advances
in all fields of science and engineering. As the former
chair of the National Science Board, I am also routinely
invited to participate in strategic planning sessions for
the National Science Foundation.
Department of Energy
Nuclear Energy Research Advisory Committee
(chair)
Secretary of Energy’s Commission on Research
Futures
Facility for Rare Isotope Beams Advisory
Committee (Michigan State University)
Consortium for Advanced Simulation of Light
Water Reactors (board of directors)
The Nuclear Energy Research Advisory Committee

was established in 1998 (with me as its first chair) to
provide independent advice to the U.S. Department
of Energy (DOE) on complex science and technical
issues that arise in the planning, managing, and
implementation of DOE’s nuclear energy program.
NERAC assists DOE by reviewing the research and
development (R&D) activities of the Office of Nuclear
Energy, Science and Technology (NE) and providing
advice and recommendations on long range plans,
priorities, and strategies to effectively address the
scientific and engineering aspects of these efforts. In
addition, the committee provides advice on national
policy and scientific aspects on nuclear energy research
issues as requested by the Secretary of Energy.
More recently, I have served on the Board of Directors
of CASL, the Consortium for Advanced Simulation of
Light Water Reactors, the first (and largest) of the DOE
Energy Innovation Hubs recommended by our studies
for the Brookings Institution.
The Glion Colloquium (co-director)
The Glion Colloquium has established itself
as an influential resource in addressing both the
challenges and responsibilities of the world’s research
universities. Every two years, the Glion Colloquium
provides a “Davos-like” forum in Switzerland for
research university leaders to join with leaders from
business and government to consider together the role
that the world’s leading universities should play in
addressing the great challenges and opportunities of
our times and to explore together how universities, in
partnership with governments, industry, and society,
can contribute both to solutions of global challenges
and especially as partners and leaders in change.
These activities, consisting of papers prepared by
participants prior to three days of intense discussions
in Glion-above-Montreux, Switzerland, are captured in
subsequent books given wide circulation throughout
the world.	
Over the past 14 years, over 200 leaders of higher
education, business, and government agencies
have participated in the Glion activities to consider
issues such as the challenges of the new millennium,
the governance of universities, the increasingly
interdisciplinary nature of teaching and research, the

246

The evolution of activities from science to education to policy
can be seen in the changing nature of the books published.

247
globalization of higher education, the relationship
between universities and industry, the role of university
research in driving innovation and ways to address the
challenges of global sustainability. The publications
resulting from the Glion activities are now regarded
as an important resource for better aligning higher
education with the needs of a rapidly changing world.
The Salzburg Seminar (session leader)
Salzburg Global Seminar is a nonprofit organization
that holds seminars on topics as diverse as healthcare,
education, economics, geopolitics and philanthropy. Its
objective is to “challenge present and future leaders to
solve issues of global concern” through seminars held
at the Schloss Leopoldskron in Salzburg, Austria and
in other locations throughout the world. The mission
of the Salzburg Global Seminar is to challenge present
and future leaders to solve issues of global concern. The
Salzburg Global Seminar convenes imaginative thinkers
from different cultures and institutions, organizes
problem-focused initiatives, supports leadership
development, and engages opinion-makers through
active communication networks, all in partnership with
leading institutions from around the world and across
different sectors of society
Other Major Studies
The Future of Higher Education in America
(Department of Education)
This major study, sometimes referred to as the
Spellings Commission after Secretary of Education
Margaret Spellings, was launched to address the
themes of access, affordability, and accountability in
American higher education. The Commission issued
a series of sweeping recommendations to better align
higher education with the needs of the nation, including
1) reaffirming America’s commitment to provide all
students with the opportunity to pursue postsecondary
education; 2) restructuring student financial aid
programs to focus upon the needs of lower income
and minority students; 3) demanding transparency,
accountability, and commitment to public purpose in
the operation of our universities; 4) adopting a culture

of continuous innovation and quality improvement
in higher education; 5) greatly increasing investment
in key strategic areas such as science, engineering,
medicine, and other knowledge-intensive professions
essential to global competitiveness; and 6) ensuring
that all citizens have access to high quality educational,
learning, and training opportunities throughout their
lives through a national strategy to provide lifelong
learning opportunities at the postsecondary level.
The Future of the American Research University
(National Academies)
Widely considered the best in the world, our nation’s research universities today confront significant
challenges and opportunities, including financial pressures, advances in technology, developments in teaching and learning, a changing demographic landscape,
and increased international competition. In response to
a request from Congress to examine these issues, the
National Research Council empanelled a committee to
undertake a study of the challenges and opportunities
our nation’s research universities face and the ways our
nation can ensure that they continue to play a critical
role in meeting national goals, particularly for prosperity and security.
The study committee provided recommendations
that Congress, the federal government, state
governments, research universities, and others can
take to strengthen and focus the work of our nation’s
research universities, allowing them to continue to
produce the knowledge, ideas, and talent the United
States needs to be a global leader in the 21st century. It
highlighted the need for strengthening and expanding
the partnership among universities, government,
business, and philanthropy that has been central to
American prosperity and security. The study also
examined trends in university finance, prospects
for improving university operations, opportunities
for deploying technology, and ways to reduce the
regulatory burden on higher education institutions. It
also explored ways to improve pathways to graduate
education, take advantage of opportunities to increase
student diversity, and realign doctoral education for the
careers new doctorates will follow.

248

The Glion Colloquium, Glion-above-Montreaux, Switzerland - Touring the Hadron Collider near Geneva

249

Max Reinhardt 1873-1943

The Salzburg Seminar for Higher Education

250

The role of the committee chair...including getting advice.

251

DOE E. O. Lawrence Award

Chair, National Science Board

NSPE Engineer of the Year

National Medal of Technology

NAE Arthur Beuchle Award

Yale George H.W. Bush Award

National Academy Election

McGIll Honorary Degree

U Vienna Dies Academicus

Dartmouth Honorary Degree

Arizona State Honorary Degree

Diversity Keynote Berlin

252

Since the presidency, Jim has taken on an unusually broad range of leadership roles in science, technology, and
education at the national and global level, managed from the Millennium Project in the Duderstadt Center (aka
Media Union), and occasionally assisted by visitors such as our grandchildren (and their pet velociraptor...)

253
Appendix to Chapter 20

Brookings Institution, Non-resident Senior Scholar
For the past several years I have served as a
nonresident Senior Scholar for the Brookings Institution
as part of their Metropolitan Studies program to assess
issues of regional economic development. In particular,
I chaired a major study of the impact of energy policy
on the Great Lakes region, the most energy-intensive
region of the United States. This influenced the Energy
Innovation Hub program of the Department of Energy.
More recently I chaired a major study of the education
needs of the region, including K-12, higher education,
and lifelong learning to develop a “Master Plan” for
education in the Midwest
Some Other Assignments
Advisory Council, National Center for Atmospheric
Research
Keck Futures Initiative Review (National Academies)
Board of Directors, CASL Energy Innovation Hub,
(Department of Energy)
Intelligence Science Board (Director of National
Intelligence)
The State of the Academic Presidency (Association
of Governing Boards)
National Science Policy Commission (American
Academy of Arts and Sciences)
Educate to Innovate Study, National Academy of
Engineering
Roundtable on Global Sustainability, National
Science Foundation
Presidential Search Committee, National Academy
of Engineering
Assessment of Triana Satellite, NASA
International Activities
	
Dies Academicus, University of Vienna
	
European University Association, Spain
	
Glion Colloquium, Switzerland
	
Universitas 21, Nagoya, Japan
	
Diversity Conference, Berlin, Germany
	
As an example of activities, we have included a brief
appendix to this chapter a list of major activities over
the past two decades.

Post-Presidency Activities
1996-1997
Sunflower Report
Michigan Strategy
Rebuilding the University
Launch of Media Union
Michigan Virtual Auto College
CMS, Unisys
1997-1998
State Technology Strategy
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
GUIRR-NSB Stresses on the Academy
Stanford National Consortium on Postsecondary Ed
Glion Colloquium
University for 21st Century
Cyber Camp
President Michigan Virtual Auto College
National Academy of Engineering Executive Council
CMS, Unisys
1998-1999
Chair DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Chair, Scholarship in the Digital Age
Chair, Future of Science and Engineering
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
Director, UM Oberlin Kalamazoo project
Yale Advisory Council on IT
Stanford National Consortium on Postsecondary Ed
Glion Colloquium
National Partnership in Science Computing
Chair, DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Ontario Master Plan
UM Admission Litigation
CMS, Unisys
1999-2000
Chair, IT and the Fuure of the University

254
Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
Chair, DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
NAE Executive Committee
Stanford National Consortium on Postsecondary Ed
Glion Colloquium
Advisor, Naval Postgraduate School
UM Admission Litigation
CMS, Unisys, Diamond Cluster
2000-2001
Chair, DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Chair, IT and the Future of the University
Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
Stanford National Consortium on Postsecondary Ed
Advisory Board, National Center Atmospheric Res
CMS, Unisys
2001-2002
Chair, DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Chair, IT and the Future of the University
Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
Chair, COSEPUP Scientific Research in the States
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
Advisory Board, National Center Atmospheric Res
NSF, Advisory Committee on Education
CMS, Unisys
2002-2003
Chair, DOE Nuclear Energy Advisory Committee
Chair, IT and the Future of the University
Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
Chair, COSEPUP Scientific Research in the States
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
Advisory Board, National Center Atmos Research
NSF, Advisory Committee on Education
CMS, Unisys, Diamond Cluster
NSF Grant: $110,000 for Nuclear Fission minor
2003-2004
Chair, NRC IT Forum

Chair, NRC Federal Science and Technology Study
Committee on Science, Engineering, and Public Policy
DOE Secretary Committee on Research
Chair, NAE Study of Engineering Research
Advisory Board, National Center Atmospheric Res
UM Chair, STPP Committee
UM Chair, Hydrogen Initiatives Commission
UM Co-Chair, World University Workshop
CMS, Unisys, Diamond Cluster
Atlantic Philanthropies Grant ($890,000 to UM)
2004-2005
Chair, NRC IT Forum
Chair, COSEPUP FS&T
Chair, NAE Engineering Research
Co-Chair V Glion Conference
Chair, UM Science, Tech, and Pub Policy Committee
Chair, Hydrogen Initiatives Team
Chair, UM Phoenix Project Executive Committee
Chair, NRC Workshop on OMB Performance Metrics
Chair, WASC Accreditation Team
Member, Kansas City Project Team
Member, Great Lakes Brookings Project
Unisys, Diamond Cluster
2005-2006
Chair, NRC IT Forum
Chair, COSEPUP FS&T
Chair, NAE Engineering Research
Chair, Cyberinfrastructure Advisory Committee, NSF
Chair, Presidential Search Committee, NAE
Member, Spellings Commission, D Ed
Member, AGB Task Force on University Presidency
Member, UC Task Force on Compensation, Account	
ability, and Transparencies
Chair, STPP Program
Chair, Michigan Energy Research Council
Member, Tulane University Post-Katrina Planning
Member, KC Project Team
Member, Great Lakes Brookings Study
Member, AAAS Executive Council
Funding, Atlantic Philanthropies, IT Leadership
($890,000)
Funding NSF, 21st Century Engineering ($250,000)

255
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)
Funding, MilProj, GKCCF ($42,500)
Unisys, Diamond Cluster
2006-2007

Unisys
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)
2008-2009

Member, Intelligence Science Board
Chair, NAE Engineering Research Study
Chair, Cyberinfrastructure Advisory Committee, NSF
Chair, Presidential Search Committee, NAE
Member, Spellings Commission, D Ed
Member, AGB Task Force on University Presidency
Co-Chair, Glion Colloquium
Chair, NRC Review Committee for Keck Futures
	
Program
Chair, STPP Program
Co-Chair, VI Glion Colloquium
Chair, Michigan Energy Research Council
Member, Advisory Committee, New Economy
	
Initiative for Michigan
Member, Detroit Renaissance Team
Member, Executive Council, AAAS
Unisys
Funding NSF, 21st Century Engineering ($250,000)
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)

Member, Intelligence Science Board
Co-Chair, VII Glion Colloquium
Chair, Brookings Next Energy Project
Co-Chair, NSF Roundtable of Global Sustainability
Member, Policy and Global Affairs Committee,
	
NRC
Co-Director, STPP Program
Member, Executive Council, AAAS
Member, Chicago Council study of Regional Economic
	
Development
Member, UC Regents Task Force on Accountability
	
and Transparency
Member, NAE Study of Lifelong Engineering Learning
Chair, Study to Assess Economic Progress of
	
Greater Kansas City
Member, UM Bicentennial Planning
UM Faculty History Project
Unisys
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)
Funding, Grant from GKCCF ($72,000)

2007-2008

2009-2010

Member, Intelligence Science Board
Chair, NAE Engineering Research Study
Chair, Cyberinfrastructure Advisory Committee, NSF
Chair, NRC Review Committee for Keck Futures
	
Program
Chair, Brookings Next Energy Project
Member, Spellings Commission, D Ed
Member, Evolution of the Research University
	
Project, NRC
Member, Red Team to Assess 20 year Strategy for 	
Nuclear Energy Research
Member, UC Regents Task Force on Accountability
	
and Transparency
Member, Chicago Council study of Regional Economic
	
Development
Member, AGB, Miller Center, Public Purpose
Member, Advisory Board, UM National Depression
	Center

Member, Intelligence Science Board
Chair, Brookings Next Energy Project
Co-Chair, NSF Roundtable of Global Sustainability
Member, Policy and Global Affairs Committee, NRC
Member, Chicago Council study of Regional Economic
	
Development
Member, Presidential Search Committee for the 		
	
University of Khalifa
Member, NAE Lifelong Learning Committee
Unisys
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)
2010-2011
Chair, Policy and Global Affairs Division, National
	
Research Council
Member, National Research Council Governing Board
Member, National Academies Study of Research

256
	
Universities
Nonresident Senior Scholar, Brookings Institution
Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee,
Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee,
	
Facility for Research on Ion Beans (FRIB)
Co-Chair, VIII Glion Colloquium
Director, Chicago Council Midwest Master Plan
Member, IT Council
Member, History and Traditions Committee
Co-Director, STPP Program
Member, Executive Council, AAAS
Unisys
Funding, STPP Postdoc, Dow Foundation ($610,000)
Funding, NSF, Glion VIII Colloquium ($99,000)
2011-2012
Chair, Policy and Global Affairs Division, National
	
Research Council
Member, National Research Council Governing Board
Member, National Academies Study of Research
Unversities
Nonresident Senior Scholar, Brookings Institution
Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee,
	
Facility for Research on Ion Beans (FRIB)
Member, Board of Directors, DOE CASL
Chair, Festshrift for Dan Atkins
Chair, NSF DLI Conference
Chair, Future of the DC
Member, IT Council
Member, History and Traditions Committee
Co-Director, STPP Program
Unisys
Funding, NSF, Glion VIII Colloquium ($99,000)
Funding, NSF Workshop on DLI ($89,000)
2012-2013
Chair, Policy and Global Affairs Division, National
	
Research Council
Member, National Research Council Governing Board
Member, National Academies Study of Research
Universities
Nonresident Senior Scholar, Brookings Institution
Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee,
	
Facility for Rare Ion Beams, MSU

Member, Board of Directors, DOE CASL
Co-Chair, IX Glion Colloquium
Chair, Festshrift for Dan Atkins
Chair, NSF DLI Conference
Member, Review of UT Fracking Study
Member, NAE, Educate to Innovate Study
Funding, NSF Workshop on DLI ($89,000)
2013-2014
Chair, Policy and Global Affairs Division, National
	
Research Council
Member, National Research Council Governing Board
Member, National Academies Study of Research
Universities
Nonresident Senior Scholar, Brookings Institution
Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee,
	
Facility for Rare Ion Beams, MSU
Chair, Board of Directors, DOE CASL
Co-Chair, X Glion Colloquium
Member, Advisory Committee, National Center for
	
Nuclear Weapons Verification Technology
Member, American Academy of Arts & Sciences 	
	
Committee on National Science Policy
Member, UM IT Council

Major Policy Studies
National Science Board
1982 University Industry Research NSB
1986 Undergraduate S, M, E Education NSB
1987 NSF in Polar Regions NSB
1988 State of U.S. S&E NSB
1989 Foreign Involvement in US Universities NSB
1989 Loss of Biological Diversity NSB
1992 A Foundation for the 21st Century NSB
1993 Desktop to Teraflop NSB
1994 State of US S&E NSB
1995 K-12 STEM Education
1996 US S&E in Changing World NSB
1998 Graduate Postdoc EducatIon NSB
1998 NSB Strategic Plan
2000 NSB History in Highlights
2006 NSF 2020 Strategic Plan NSB

257
Other NSF Efforts
Nuclear Engineering Minor Study
Strategic Plan Input for NSF
ACCI Reports
National Science Policy
1992 Chair, NSB Study of Future of NSF
1998 FS&T Committee
1998 GUIRR-NSB Stresses on the Academy
	 1999 Draft Proposal NSF NSB
	 2000 FS&T Op Ed
	 2002 Triana NASA Study
2001 Chair, COSEPUP Scientific Research in the
States
2003 Chair, NAE Study of Engineering Research
2003 DOE Secretary Committee on Research
2006 Chair, NRC Review Committee for Keck Futures Program
2009 Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee, FRIB
2010 Chair, Policy and Global Affairs Division,
National Research Council
National Higher Education Policy
1990s Diversity (Michigan Mandate Leadership)
1994 Chair, NASULGC Federal Relations Committee
1994 Direct Student Lending Act
1995 BHEF Study with Red Poling
1998 President, Michigan Virtual University
1998 GUIRR-NSB Stresses on the Academy
1998 University for 21st Century
1999 Restructuring Intercollegiate Athletics
1999 Director, UM Oberlin Kalamazoo project
2000 NASULGC White Paper
2000 ACE Presidency
2000 EDARPA Letter
2001 COSEPUP EARPA
2005 Fixing the Fragmented University
2005 Spellings Commission Framing Paper
2005 Spellings Commission Quality Report
2005 Member, Spellings Commission, D Ed
2005 Chair, Spellings Quality Subcommittee
2005 Member, AGB Task Force on State of Univer-

sity Presidency
2005 Member, UC Task Force on Compensation,
Accountability, and Transparencies
2005 Member, Tulane University Post-Katrina Planning
2005 Learn Grant Act
2005 NACME Diversity Talk
2006 Leadership Imperative AGB
2006 Spellings Commission Report
2007 Member, Evolution of the Research University
Project, NRC
2007 Member, AGB, Miller Center, Public Purpose
2008 Miller AGB Duderstadt Final
2010 Member, National Academies Study of Research Universities
2010 Director, Chicago Council HE Master Plan
2011 New School Conference
2012 AGB Research Universities Duderstadt
2012 De Lange Rice Address JJD
2012 National Academies Research University
Report
2012 National Academies Research University
Summary
Economic Development
1999 Ontario Master Plan
2003 Regional Learning Ecologies
2004 Member, KC Project Team, Time to Get It
Right
2004 Member, Great Lakes Brookings Project
2005 Chair, Michigan Energy Research Council
2005 Gathering Storm
2005 Michigan Roadmap
2005 Time to Get It Right KC
2005 Member, Great Lakes Brookings Study
2006 Member, Advisory Committee, New Economy
Initiative for Michigan
2007 Chair, Brookings Next Energy Project
2007 Member, Chicago Council study of Regional
Economic Development
2007 Chicago Midwest Media Project
2007 Michigan Roadmap Redux
2008 Chair, Study to Assess Economic Progress of
Greater KC
2009 Kansas City–time-to-get-it-right-Update

258

2010 Brookings Hubs of Innovation
2010 Director, Chicago Council HE Master Plan
2011 Midwest Master Plan Launch
2011 Midwest Master Plan Heartland Paper
Information Technology and Cyberinfrastructure
1999 Chair, Scholarship in the Digital Age
2000 Chair, ITFRU
2003 Chair, IT Forum
2003 Preparing for the Revolution
2005 Chair, NSF Cyberinfrastructure Committee
2011 Chair, Festshrift for Dan Atkins
2011 Chair, NSF DLI Conference
2011 Chair, Future of the DC
2012 NSF DLI Workshop Description
Engineering
2003 Chair, NAE Study of Engineering Research
2004 21st Century Engineering
2005 Engineering Research and America Future
2005 PI NSF, Flexner - 21st Century Engineering
2007 5XME Workshop
2007 Engineering Flexner Report
2008 ABET Effort
2008 Member, NAE Study of Lifelong Engineering
Learning
2009 Brookings Energy Report
2012 Member, NAE, Educate to Innovate Study

Energy-General
2003 DOE Secretary Committee on Research
2003 DOE-SC SWOT Analysis
2003 DOE_Task_Force
2005 Phoenix Energy Institute
2007 Chair, Brookings Next Energy Project
2009 Brookings Energy Report
2011 Glion VIII Duderstadt Black Swans
2012 Member, Review of UT Fracking Study

Energy-Nuclear
1999 Chair DOE Nuclear Energy Research Advisory Comm
2000 DOE Nuclear Energy Strategy
2001 Nuclear Engineering Minor Proposal
2002 NSF Grant: $110,000 for Nuclear Fission minor
2004 Nuclear Energy France
2004 DOE Study of Research Priorities
2004 Energy France
2009 Member, President’s Project Advisory Committee, Facility for Rare Ion Beams, MSU
2012 Member, Board of Directors, DOE Coalition
for Advance Simulation of Light Water Reactors
International Issues
1989 UM International Center
1992 Tree Tops Strategy for State Support
2002 JAPAN Policy Discussions
2002 Nagoya Keynote Lecture
2003 UM Co-Chair, World University Workshop
2005 Canadian Provosts Briefings
2007 Salzburg Seminars
2008 Co-Chair, NSF Roundtable on Global Sustainability
Glion Colloquium Topics
1999 Glion I Challenges Facing HE
2001 Glion II University Governance
2002 Glion III Walls Come Tumbling Down
2003 Glion IV Reinventing the University
2005 Glion V Universities and Business
2007 Glion VI Globalization of HE
2009 Glion VII Universities and Innovation
2012 Glion VIII Global Sustainability
2013 Glion IX Sustainability of Research University
Paradigm

259

Chapter 17

Understanding the Past to Chart the Future
We both believe it is very important to always
keep in mind the historical context for leadership.
Institutions such as the University of Michigan have
existed for centuries and will continue to do so, served
by generation after generation of leaders. To serve the
University, any Michigan president must understand
and acknowledge the accomplishments of his or her
predecessors and build upon their achievements.
Each president must strive to pass along to his or her
successor an institution that is better, stronger, and
more vital than the one they inherited. Indeed, this
strong tradition of improvement from one presidency
to the next had long been the guiding spirit of its
leaders. Anne symbolized this continuity by displaying
photographs of all of the presidents and first families of
the University in the central hallway of the President’s
House. We also made a concerted effort to keep former
presidents and first ladies actively involved in the life
of the university.
Yet, also like our predecessors, we had unique

objectives that would characterize our period of
leadership. While being sensitive to the traditions of the
University, we also believed that Michigan would have
to change to serve a rapidly changing world. Our role
was to prepare the University for this future of change.
Ironically, to launch a change agenda, one must
first look to the past, to understand better the unique
character, strength, and traditions of the institution.

History and Tradition
Although we viewed ourselves as change agents,
preparing the University to face a challenging and
quite different future, we also believed it important that
this effort build on those traditions, and values from
the University’s past. Here, part of the challenge in
making this connection between the past, the present,
and the future was the degree to which the slash-andburn activism of the 1960s and 1970s had essentially
decoupled the University from its past. In their efforts

The portraits of Michigan’s presidents in the entry hall of the President’s House

260

Reconnecting the University with its past
to reject “the establishment”, students and many
faculty and staff almost took great pride in ignoring the
University’s earlier history and traditions.
Anne took a particular interest in the history of the
University, reading the biographies and writings of past
presidents and University historians and developing a
deep appreciation for Michigan’s remarkable history
and traditions and its impact on higher education.
She sensed the importance of developing a greater
awareness of this history among students, faculty, and
staff.
Perhaps because of our experience with Yale and
Harvard through our daughters, Anne and I took great
interest in how these institutions managed to preserve
and appreciate their remarkable histories and pass their
traditions down through generation after generation of
students and faculty. We believed that the University
of Michigan had just as distinguished a history as any
private university. In fact, Michigan had time and time

again provided the model for the evolution of higher
education. But this recognition had simply not been
woven into the University culture. Hence the challenge
was to take a series of steps to better connect the
University with its remarkable past.
We were joined in this effort by several distinguished
and committed faculty members: Bob Warner, former
Dean of Library Science and Director of the National
Archives; Nick and Peg Steneck, through their years
of effort in both preserving University materials and
teaching a course on the history of the University; Fran
Blouin, as Director of the Bentley Historical Library;
and Carole LaMantia as staff from the President’s
Office. The first step suggested by Anne was to create
a formal University History and Traditions Committee,
appointed by the president and staffed by the Office of
the President.
Next I established the position of University
Historian, and Bob Warner was appointed by the

261

Anne led the effort to renovate two historic University facilities:
the President’s House and the Inglis House Estate.
Regents as the first holder of this title. In this role, he
would also chair the History and Traditions Committee.
Certain early steps had already been taken. For
example, even while I was provost, I had established
base funding for the Stenecks’ course on the history of
the University, since this had always been at some risk
due to changing funding whims in LS&A. The Bentley
Library was given a more formal role and funded to
serve as archive for the University’s historical materials
along with the necessary budget, and guidelines
were established for historical documentation and
preservation.
One of the most important efforts of the History
and Traditions Committee was historical preservation.
Anne led the effort to restore and preserve the Detroit
Observatory, one of the earliest university scientific
facilities in America and key to the early evolution of the
research university. This particular project illustrated
the effort required to preserve such important facilities.
Anne led the effort to raise the roughly $2 million
necessary to renovate and endow the facility. She
enlisted the support and interest of key members of the
University administration including the Vice President
for Research, Homer Neal.
In turn, Homer appointed one of his most talented
staff members, Sandy Whitesell, to direct the project.
Her love of historical preservation coupled with her
knowledge of working with University staff was idea
for this project. Working closely with Sandy, Anne
played a major role in the effort to raise the funding and

complete the restoration. She and Sandy researched
historical photographs in the Bentley Library to display
throughout the building. They worked together in
the hard task of cleaning the facility to ready it for
University groups. On May 21, 1999, after five years
of meticulous restoration, the University of Michigan’s
Detroit Observatory was rededicated.
Anne became involved in an array of other historical
projects. She helped to arrange for a gift of historical
materials from the ancestors of one of the early students
of the University, and then assisted in the design of a
major exhibition gallery for this gift in the new Heutwell
Visitor Center. This display featured a re-creation of the
first student dorm room.
Sometimes these efforts involved documenting the
importance of a particular site or facility on campus and
placing an appropriate historical marker, for example,
the President’s House or the East University plaza (the
eastern boundary of the original campus).
A process was launched to obtain personal oral
histories from earlier leaders of the University,
including Harlan and Anne Hatcher, Robben and Sally
Fleming, Allen and Alene Smith, and Harold and Vivian
Shapiro. The University’s 175th anniversary provided a
marvelous opportunity to host a symposium involving
the living presidents of the University.
Anne was also involved in the effort to create a
number of publications on the University’s history. The
Stenecks were commissioned to update the popular
history of the University by Howard H. Peckham, The

262

Working closely with Sandy Whitesell, Anne played an important leadership
role in raising the funding and priority for renovating the Detroit Observatory.

263
Making of the University of Michigan. One of Anne’s
most significant projects was to develop a seasonal
photographic essay of the University that would serve
for advancing the interests of the University with key
donors in the Campaign for Michigan.
After we left the presidency, it was natural that one
of the major activities within the Millennium Project
has become an effort to document the history of the
University of Michigan. The early contributions were a
series of books that utilized the powerful technologies
of desktop publishing and digital photography both
to contribute to major historical milestones such as
the 150th anniversary of engineering education at
Michigan and the evolution of its campus over the past
two centuries.
In addition, we were able to utilize the unique
resources of the Duderstadt Center to develop new ways
to present this history, including three-dimensional
virtual reality simulations of the Michigan campus in
various eras, a highly detailed computer model of the
historical evolution of the campus (Mort’s Map), and
an array of web-based databases intended to document
the contributions of the University’s thousands of
faculty members, students, and staff.

A Partner in Exile
Initially Anne faced many challenges similar to
those I had experienced in leaving the presidency, since
several of the projects where she had been heavily
involved were no longer available to her, e.g., guiding
the renovation of important historical projects such as
the Detroit Observatory, the President’s House, and
the Inglis Highlands estate. She was also removed as
a member in the History and Traditions Committee,
an organization she had helped to launch in the 1990s.
Unfortunately this committee was later disbanded, just
as the University was approaching its Bicentennial Year.
To be sure, Anne remained heavily involved in other
important organizations such as the Faculty Women’s
Club, where she took the lead in developing a modern
computer support system for its members. But it was
also clear that her strong interests in the history of
the University would require a somewhat different
approach to compensate for the lack of support.
Both the mission of the Millennium Project and its

location in the Duderstadt Center provided a unique
access to rapidly emerging digital technologies that
were ideal for supporting her projects. Anne recognized
that the challenge of capturing the rich history of a
complex, consequential, and enduring institution such
as the University of Michigan is considerable. To be
sure, there are numerous scholarly tomes and popular
histories of the institution, its leaders, and its programs.
Yet the history of the University required much more. In
fact, Michigan’s history, those characteristics evolving
over time that have determined its distinctiveness and
shaped its impact on society, assume the form of a saga
requiring many forms of narratives, words, images,
music, and even digital simulations! 


So where to begin? One of the purposes of the
Millennium Project was to explore the use of emerging
digital technologies in the development of new
approaches to instruction. Anne’s first effort was
to develop a more interactive way to explore and
understand the history of the University’s campus. But
she first needed to gain a better understanding of the
history of the Michigan campus itself. So she turned
to Fred Mayer, University Planner, and Paul Spradlin,
Director of Plant Extension (new construction), both
of whom immediately replied: “You need to look at
Mort’s Map!”

Mort’s Map and Campus History
During the 1960s, Myron Mortensen, the chief
draftsman of the Plant Department, had researched the
history of every building on the campus and drawn
a very detailed map showing the historical evolution
of the Ann Arbor campus from its origin to the 1960s.
Using “Mort’s Map”, Anne worked with undergraduate
engineering students in the Millennium Project to
develop a web version of this map that enables one to
use a timeline display and accompanying narrative to
describe the evolution of the campus throughout its
history. She then linked the digital maps to hundreds
of historical photographs from the Bentley Library to
illustrate the evolution of the campus. The Mort’s Map
website can be found at:
http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/mort/

264

The Web Portal for Campus History
But Anne was interested in going beyond this.
During our years in the presidency there had been a
significant effort to develop digital representations
of the contemporary campus that could be used
in campus planning. In fact, the Plant Extension
Department, under the leadership of Paul Spradlin,
had assembled a quite sophisticated team (including
the use of programmers in Russia) to build these digital
representations of the campus. Our goal was to build
similar digital models that would describe the historical
evolution of the campus, beginning with the earliest
campus in 1836. We sought to explore several of these
approaches, including a comprehensive 3D digital
simulation of the campus and its evolution, virtual
reality simulations, digital video and DVD-based
materials, and sophisticated database methods for
organizing and searching through scholarly materials.
Working with Plant Department staff, our students
were able to create a 3D virtual reality version of the
campus for earlier eras that allowed both navigation
as well as the development of videos. The website
containing both the digital version of Mort’s Map as
well as the 3D simulations can be found at the website:
http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/
Unfortunately President Bollinger’s appointment of
a new VPCFO resulted insa massive turnover in the
Plant Department, including many of those involved in

Mort’s Map (by Myron Mortensen)
the digital campus work, resulting in the termination
of this University project and the loss of most of its
software. While our work still remains, much of the
early work of the Plant Department was purged, a
tragic loss for the University.
Anne next turned to a more traditional project to
learn how to use the University’s archive of historical
photographs to develop books describing the evolution
of the College of Engineering, which was preparing to
celebrate its 150th of engineering education in 2004.
Rather than simply writing the text and selecting the
appropriate photographs for an experienced designer,
she decided to master the process of digital design by
learning to use Adobe’s Creative Suite of applications:
InDesign, Photoshop, Illustrator, Acrobat, etc. She then
worked closely with the University Printing Service to
design and develop her first major book on University
history:

265

A Pictorial History of the
College of Engineering

A Pictorial History of the College of Engineering

On the Move: A Personal History of the
UM College of Engineering in Modern Times

Michigan’s College of Engineering in Modern Times,

http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/003884452

http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/003884451

Drawing on the resources of the Bentley Historical
Library, University publications such as the Michigan
Technic, the Michigan Alumnus, and The University
of Michigan: An Encyclopedic Survey, but also on the
vast writings, personal papers and photographs of
two Engineering Deans, Mortimer Cooley and James
Duderstadt, Anne was able to create a pictorial history
of the college. Although this photographic essay
was focused on the evolution of the campus of the
College of Engineering, it also attempts to introduce
the people and events that contributed so much to
the College’s history. It stitched together images with
the words of members of the Michigan family who
participated directly in the building of the College.
This photographic history not only documented and
honored the remarkable achievements of the College of
Engineering during its century-and-a-half of leadership
in engineering education but has provided a resource
to guide those who will determine and benefit from its
activities in the future.
Following Anne’s lead, Jim also mastered Adobe’s
Creative Suite sufficiently to develop a personal
history of his years as Dean of Engineering, a period
that covered the move of the College of Engineering
from the Central Campus to the North Campus of the
University.

More recently, we have extended our skills to Apple’s
iBook Author software so that we could transform these
books into interactive iBooks that can be downloaded
directly from the Millennium Project website:

On the Move: A Personal History of the University of

http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
Anne’s next project involved a massive effort to utilize
historical photographs to develop a book describing
the history of the entire Michigan campus, including
not only its buildings but as well the activities of its
students, faculty, and staff. To learn more about how to
handle the design and color schemes necessary for such
a project, Anne decided to first use technology to create
a more modest book of contemporary photographs
(mostly taken by Jim) to illustrate the appearance of the
campus during the changing seasons. This was similar
to a book she had helped design during our presidency
that we used as gifts to visitors, but in this case she did
the entire project herself: design, photographic layout,
digital development (again using InDesign), and
finally working with the University Printing Services to
produce the final project.

The University of Michigan: A Seasonal Portrait
http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/005121919
Anne also produced several important photographic

266

To produce a high quality photographic volume concerning the history of the College of Engineering required
mastering many skills, including the collection and arrangement of historical photographs through digital scanning and then careful edit using digital tools such as Photoshop. The actual layout of the book required desktop
publishing skills (in this case, InDesign, Illustrator, and Acrobat). The next stage involved working closely with the
printers. The final stage involved boxing and shipping the final copies to hundreds of readers, including the faculty
of the College of Engineering.

267

The production of the “photographic saga” of the history of the University was considerably more complex, involving thousands of illustrations, extensive historical research, and the use of the full power of the Adobe Creative
Suite to design, layout, and produce the final digital files for the printers (in this case, a high-quality commercial
printer, University Lithoprinters, Inc.). Since the final digital files were over 60 GB in size, the computing requirements for this project were considerable. From initial concept to final product required roughly three years of continual effort! (Jim provided a small cake to celebrate success!)

268

The University of Michigan:
A Seasonal Portrait

The President’s House of
the University of Michigan

books concerning the President’s House and the Inglis
Highlands estate of the University, both because of her
personal activities with these two historical buildings
as well as because of the role that she played in their
renovation. These books can be downloaded from the
the HathiTrust website.

She worked closely with one of Ann Arbor’s leading
commercial printers, University Lithoprinters, to
complete the project, including spending a day and
night supervising the final printing runs to make
certain that the design format and colors were correct.
The entire project took over three years.

The President’s House of the University of Michigan

A Photographic Saga of the University of Michigan

http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/003494187

http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/005399524

The Inglis Highlands Estate of the University of Michigan

Although this project made extensive use of the
photographic assets of the Bentley Historical Libary,
it also involved digitizing materials from many other
Michigan publications and resources, including the
Michigan Alumnus magazine, the University of Michigan:
An Encyclopedic Survey, and student publications
including the Michigan Technic and the Michiganensian
yearbook. Books and articles written by Michigan
faculty, students, and alumni were also of great value.
In particular, the letters, diaries, and various papers of
faculty and students provided a glimpse of what life
was like in the early years of the University.
Of great value in reconstructing the early history
and evolution of the Michigan campus was Mort’s
Map, a work created by Myron Mortensen, an engineer
in the Plant Department until 1954 when he became
Chief Draftsman. The map provides the footprint of all

http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/011706
Both books have been rewritten and are now available
in iBooks format from the Millennium Project Website:
http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
With this experience, Anne turned back to the
“Michigan Saga” book. The scale of this history project
was immense, not only consisting of over 1,000 high
definition photographs, many of which she scanned
herself, along with text that generated over 60 GB of
data, pushing the limits of the Millennium Project
computers. In fact, by the end of the project, Anne was
using the most powerful computer in our complex.

269

The Inglis House Estate

The University of Michigan:
A Photographic Saga

of the buildings that existed on the campus from the
1840s through the 1960s.
This photographic saga provides vivid evidence of
the profound impact that the University of Michigan
has had on the evolution of higher education in
America and hence upon its state, the nation, and the
world during the first two centuries of its long and
distinguished history.”

Faculty members in its College of Engineering and
School of Information worked on a major research
project for the National Science Foundation to build a
digital library for scientific materials.
Anne and I decided to extend our historical projects
to demonstrative just how powerful the University’s
rapidly expanding digital technology environment
could be in gathering and providing access to its
activities, both present and past. The combination
of the University’s cyberinfrastructure environment,
search engines such as Google, and most important of
all, the leadership of the University of Michigan Library
in digital archiving and distribution, gave Michigan a
quite extraordinary opportunity to define the path
these knowledge-intensive institutions should take in
the digital age. Working closely with both students and
staff of the Duderstadt Center, Anne played a leadership
role in the development of these important new digital
histories of the University.

This book can also be viewed from the Millennium
Project website:
http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/history/
publications/photo_saga/Saga.html

Creating New Digital Historical Resources
With one of the largest and most sophisticated
university libraries in the world, the University had long
provided leadership in providing new forms of access to
its 8 million volume collection. During the 1990s it had
led the effort to merge the catalogs of the 11 universities
of the CIC (the Committee on Institutional Cooperation
of the Big Ten plus U Chicago). As digital scanning
technology became more sophisticated, the University
worked with the Mellon Foundation to build the JSTOR
archive of journals in economics and American history
(whose computers were located in the Media Union).

The UM 1817-2017 Web Portal
The first effort was to design and build a
comprehensive web portal to a vast array of historical
information about the University of Michigan,
including summaries of the histories of its academic
programs, visual material concerning its campus and
activities, links to hundreds of historical documents,

270
maps and histories of all of the major buildings
and facilities of the University.
4) Information on the important role of staff members
in the University, both through brief histories
and short vignettes illustrating their remarkable
talent, dedication, and diversity of roles.
5) Student life through the years through an array of
historical documents.
6) Information about all of the Regents and
Presidents of the University.
7) Access to an interactive collection of memoirs
by contemporary Michigan faculty members
concerning the intellectual life of the University.
8) A vast collection of historical photographs and
video materials made available in digital format.
The UM 1817-2017 Web Portal
and databases providing both biographical information
and memoirs of its faculty, staff, students, and alumni.
http://um2017.org/2017_Website/Entry_Page.
html
This website provides an array of links to access this
rapidly growing collection of materials designed to be
easily searchable and readily available in digital form.
Included in these resources are:
1) Information about the many thousands of faculty
members who have served the university since
its earliest years, searchable and available as
biographies, memorials, and photographs.
2) Histories of the myriad academic programs of the
University–schools and colleges, departments
and programs, centers and institutes, with a
particular focus on the intellectual life and
academic impact of the institution.
3) The evolution of the Ann Arbor campus of the
University through the years, with interactive

In many of these efforts, Anne has been using the
powerful resources of the HathiTrust, already the largest
digital library in the world. We have persuaded the
Regents of the University to release copyright control
to provide full-text access to all University publications,
books and periodicals, which have relevance to the
history of the University. These can be found in a special
search collection:
http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/
mb?a=listis;c=745985614
The Faculty History Project
The next project was even bolder. Anne led the
effort in the development of a database providing
information about all of the faculty members who have
been associated with the University of Michigan since
1837, organized by their schools and colleges. Working
with a very talented undergraduate, Alex Burrell,
who quickly became experienced in programming in
Drupal, Anne developed a website capable of accessing
information on every faculty member who had ever
worked at the University, with dates of appointment,
fields, memoirs, and photographs, if available. In fact

271

The Faculty History Project
she personally scanned over 3,000 photographs from
the Bentley Library and compiled information on more
than 14,000 faculty members.
http://um2017.org/faculty-history/
As she noted in the preamble to the website, one
can only understand the intellectual impact of the
University of Michigan by understanding who its
faculty members were (and are) and what they did
(and are doing). To appreciate the intellectual vitality
of this institution, it is necessary to trace the lives of its
faculty members, their contributions, and their circles
of discourse. One needs to capture their stories and link
them to the University’s academic programs, its schools
and colleges, departments and institutes.
Yet this is a formidable challenge since many of the
University’s schools, colleges, and departments have
only brief histories on websites or buried away in file
drawers. Furthermore those histories that do exist are
usually more concerned with buildings or enrollments
or who was dean or chair than the intellectual life or
achievements and impact of the faculty.”
The broad intellectual span and size of the institution
makes it hard to capture its history (or even understand
its present nature) through conventional means such as
popular histories or occasional papers. Instead it seems
more productive to take advantages of the University’s
exceptional capacity in digital technology to build

online resources that would evolve over time to serve
those wishing both to understand and analyze not
only the University’s history but even its intellectual
structure and impact today.
This Faculty History Website represents an attempt
to begin this effort. The goal is eventually to include
every faculty member who has been appointed at the
University, working with the University’s schools,
colleges, and departments to fill in these databases with
information such as photos, biographies, memorials,
and even video oral histories for more recent faculty
members.
The goal of this project is to document, remember,
and celebrate those achievements of our faculty that
have made Michigan a great university; to use such
resources to reaffirm academic achievement and
excellence as the cornerstone of the quality, strength,
and impact of the university; and to rededicate today’s
faculty members and University leaders as faithful
stewards for the remarkable legacy left by previous
generations of Michigan faculty members, accepting
the challenge of adding their own contributions to
extend this legacy
Today the Faculty History Project has over 14,000
entries for the Ann Arbor campus (with ongoing
additions and corrections). It has already become an
invaluable tool for understanding the role of faculty at
the University, and its open access availability leads to
its frequent appearance in Google searches for people
with Michigan ties.
The Faculty Memoir Project:
A similar database was created to contain the
memoirs of senior faculty members concerning the
intellectual life and impact of the University.
http://www.lib.umich.edu/faculty-memoir/
The University of Michigan Faculty Memoir Project
assembles the memoirs of senior University faculty
members concerning both their personal academic
work and their reflections concerning the intellectual
life of the University more generally. It is intended both
to capture the history of the Michigan faculty as well
as provide a vivid demonstration of the extraordinary

272

The Faculty Memoir Project

The Staff Memoirs and Memories Project

impact that faculty members have had on the quality,
strength, and impact of the University throughout its
two centuries of service to the state, the nation, and the
world
This website has been designed to enable senior and
emeritus faculty members to contribute reflections on
their intellectual experiences through an interactive
process that allows them to add and edit their
biographies, curricula vitae, photographic or video
materials, and memoirs, thereby helping build a rich
and accessible resource describing faculty contributions
to the University and broader society.

they have had on the institution.
In addition to providing a record of the Memoirs for
earlier staff members, the website also enables senior
and retired staff members to contribute directly their
memories, stores, and reflections concerning the life
of the University through an interactive process that
allows them to add and edit their contribution.
Over time it is hoped that this website will become
a rich and accessible resource describing the degree
to which staff members have influenced the growth,
evolution, quality, and continuity of the institution.

The Staff Memories and Memoirs Project:
A similar database has been developed to contain
both the memoirs and memories of the staff of the
University throughout its history.
http://www.lib.umich.edu/staff-memoir/
The University of Michigan Staff Memories and
Memoirs Project assembles the memories and stories
provided by members of the Michigan staff family
over their long careers at the University as well as the
Memoirs for earlier staff members as they completed
their years of service to Michigan. This project is
intended both to capture the history of the University
from the perspective of its staff while recording
the contributions of earlier staff members, thereby
providing a vivid demonstration of the great impact

The Town-Gown Historical Maps Project
Anne has recently launched another project to
develop interactive historial maps of the City of Ann
Arbor with links to the historical photographs and
descriptions of key buildings. The maps begin with
the original platting of Ann Arbour in 1824 and then
continue through each decade until the early 20th
century. By using the power of iOS technologies to
develop a “MapApp”, this powerful technology will
be capable of extension to the study of other historical
maps. Key in her efforts has been the extraordinary
collection of the University of Michigan Library’s
Map Collection and the programming skills of an
extraordinary Michigan undergraduate, Nathan Korth.
http://specular.dmc.dc.umich.edu/map/drag/

273

cat. “Not I” quacked the noisy duck.
“Then I will”, said the little red hen. So the little red hen
cut the wheat all by herself.
When all the wheat was cut, the little red hen asked her
friends who would help her take it to the mill to be ground
into flour.
“Not I” barked the lazy dog. “Not I” purred the sleepy
cat. “Not I” quacked the noisy duck.
“Then I will”, said the little red hen. So she brought the
wheat to the mill all by herself, ground the wheat into flour
and carried the heavy sack back to the farm.
The Ann Arbor UM MapApp Project

Expanding the Ann Arbor Map to show the campus

The Parable of the Little Red Hen
It seems appropriate to conclude this chapter with a
well-known fairy tale, The Little Red Hen (Golden Books,
1940), which actually takes the form of a parable in our
efforts to preserve the University of Michigan’s history:
Once upon a time there was a little red hen who lived on
a farm. She was friends with a lazy dog, a sleepy cat, and a
noisy yellow duck.
One day the little red hen found some seeds on the ground.
She had an idea. She would plant the seeds.
The little red hen asked her friends, “Who will help me
plant the seeds?
“Not I” barked the lazy dog. “Not I” purred the sleepy
cat. “Not I” quacked the noisy duck.
“Then I will”, said the little red hen. So she planted the
seeds all by herself.
When the seeds had grown, the little red hen asked her
friends “Who will help me cut the wheat?”
“Not I” barked the lazy dog. “Not I” purred the sleepy

Like the Little Red Hen, for several years Anne and
I have sought in vain for help in the effort to prepare
historical materials for the University’s Bicentennial
celebration in 2017. Although the Bentley Library was
assigned lead responsibility for such historical projects
while I was provost, they continued to decline a major
role. Little interest was expressed by the University
administration in the information we gathered from
the experiences of other institutions (e.g., Yale’s
Tercentennial in 2001), since they preferred instead to
focus the Bicentennial year on the launch of a major
fund-raising campaign. We contacted the deans to
explain both the importance of this event and the
opportunities it would provide, but once again we
found little interest. Anne and I even hosted a major
dinner event to solicit the assistance of senior faculty
in the Scientific Club and Azazels, with only modest
response.
Although we found ourselves reappointed to the
History and Traditions Committee, after meeting for
several sessions in which the topic of the Bicentennial
was raised by its members, the University found that
a simple way to keep this topic off of the agenda–
and far away from creating any work for the Bentley
Library–was simply to stop scheduling meetings of
the University’s History and Traditions Committee.
Although its website suggests that the Committee still
existed, it did not met for several years. Other faculty
groups convened to develop plans for celebrating the
history of the University have also found themselves
suddenly discontinued, e.g., the planning committee
for the 100th anniversary of the graduate school and
a special committee convened by the former VP
Communications to consider how to use technology in

274

Preserving the Michigan Saga - Presentation to the University of Michigan Retirees
(Photo Collage by Joseph Moffatt)

promoting the history of the university.
Hence we had little recourse but to use our limited
resources to launch a series of projects ourselves, such as
the Faculty History Project, the Faculty Memoir Project,
the UM 1817-2017 Web Portal, and many others, hoping
to at least demonstrate what might be done. Perhaps it
was inevitable that we would run into the Little Red
Hen syndrome as efforts were made by others (Bentley,
LS&A, Communications) to take over our projects as
they reached maturity and began to be used by many
both within the University and beyond the campus.
Since none of these organizations had been of help
during the development of these efforts, it made little
sense (and actually was rather frustrating) to suggest
that they be handed off to others. We concluded that
it was even more important that we continue to push
these projects ahead ourselves, building into them
sufficient resilience to continue Beyond the Bicentennial

when a new administration might have the foresight
and wisdom to understand the importance of such
historical efforts for the future of the University.
When the bread was finished, the tired little red hen asked
her friends “Who will help me eat the bread?”
“I will” barked the lazy dog. “I will” purred the sleepy
cat. “I will” quacked the noisy duck.
“No” said the little red hen. “I will”. And the little red
hen and her chicks ate the bread all by themselves.
The moral of this story is that those who show no
willingness to contribute to an end product do not
deserve to enjoy the end product: “If any man will not
work, never let him eat.”

275

Chapter 18

Tradition, Service, and Saga
When the University of Michigan celebrates
its Bicentennial year in 2017-2018, we will also be
celebrating our 50th year at the University–in fact,
surpassing the tenure of all other Michigan presidents
in our years of service to the University (including even
Presidents Angell and Ruthven). Needless to say, as
those years have passed by, our respect, loyalty, and
commitment to the University have continued to grow.
We have long considered Ann Arbor our home and
community, the University of Michigan our institution
(even if adopted), and the Michigan students, faculty,
staff, and alumni our extended family!
In earlier chapters we have looked back over
our years at Michigan to draw together many of our
memories and stories about serving the University,
perhaps in part to justify our unusual commitment of
half-a-century of service to this institution not only
to others but to ourselves. To be sure, the University
of Michigan is one of the great universities of the
world–but then so are Yale, Caltech, the University of
California, Stanford, and other institutions that were
opportunities for our leadership over the years.
Hence it seems appropriate to close this personal
narrative with a few observations about why we believe
Michigan is such an exceptional institution…and why
we have committed most of our lives to serving this
remarkable institution. To this end, we consider three
important points:
i) The importance of tradition to the character, the
quality, and the leadership of this university;
ii) Our belief that service to such an institution,
particularly in leadership roles, must be regarded as a
calling of the highest priority rather than a role meriting
fame and fortune, and

iii) A reminder once again of the unique character
and value of this university as a pathfinder and
trailblazer for all of higher education, a role Michigan
has played throughout its history.

Tradition
Great universities are sustained over time by
important traditions. What are the most familiar
Michigan traditions?
Not stepping on the “M” on the Diag to avoid
flunking your first exam?
Nor the football team running out under the M-Club
banner.
Nor the Michigan Band playing “Hawaiian War
Chant” and “Temptation” at the football games.
	 (You can’t have one without the other…)
Not even the president “spinning the Cube” to start
up the University each morning!
These are certainly well-known, but they are simply
amusing anecdotes rather than important traditions
sustaining the quality and impact of the University.
Instead, let us suggest the following traditions for more
careful consideration:
The Catholepistemiad or University of Michigania (a
university founded in 1817 by Woodward in the
Enlightenment spirit of civil rights, equality, and
public purpose)
The flagship of public universities or “mother of
state universities” (although, of course, UM was
created and financed by the U.S. Congress as
a territorial university and hence is as much a
national university as a state university).

276
A commitment to providing “an uncommon
education for the common man”, in the words
of Angell (although this has become increasingly
difficulty as public support has declined)
The “broad and liberal spirit” of its students and
faculty (as noted by a 19th century article in
Harpers Weekly and always to be encouraged)
The university’s control of its own destiny, due to
its constitutional autonomy providing political
independence as a state university and to an
unusually well-balanced portfolio of assets
enabling independence from the usual financial
constraints of a state university
An institution diverse in character yet unified in
values (as reflected more recently in the Michigan
Mandate)
A center of critical inquiry and learning (ranked as
one of the world’s great research universities)
A tradition of student and faculty activism (which
has recently reawakened after a long nap)
A heritage of leadership (most prominent and
effective at the grassroots level among our
faculty, students, and staff)
The “leaders and best” (in some ways, to be sure, but
certainly not merely as “Victors for Michigan”)
	
While change and transformation are important if
the institution is to evolve to serve a changing world,
one should always be aware of the important traditions
that endure to shape and guide these changes. Those
faculty and staff who commit their careers to the
University not only learn about these traditions, but
also play important roles in sustaining them. Others,
such as students, have only a brief moment to sense
them and understand their importance. Fortunately,
the learning experiences we design for our students are
intended not only to introduce them to these traditions,
but also provide them with opportunities to adjust
them to their own situations.
Of more concern here are those faculty, staff, and
leaders who spend only a brief time in our university
before moving on to their next assignment, frequently
with little opportunity to learn or appreciate the
traditions that have made Michigan a great academic
institution. It is natural for newcomers to attempt to
put their own stamp on the institution, but one should

beware of the “if it ain’t broke, break it” approach taken
by those with only a very superficial understanding
of this institution, its most important missions, and its
most enduring traditions.
Fortunately, however, great universities have a
self-correcting nature, and challenges and changes of
the moment that conflict with the institution’s longstanding traditions are quickly cast aside and sink
beneath the waves without a ripple.

Service
Higher education should be viewed as both a
“public good” to society as well as an individual benefit
to graduates. As such, academic leadership roles have
a “calling” character that should be understood and
accepted as a public service, much like other public
leadership roles. Leading an academic organization
should be viewed as both a privilege and a responsibility,
not as merely a route to fame and fortune.
Indeed, many in higher education today view
the frequent institution hopping and excessive
compensation of senior academic and administrative
leaders in higher education as one of the unfortunate
trends that has seriously undermined our society’s
understanding of the contemporary American
university and its public good character.
We believe it is particularly important that
governing boards view university leaders as public
servants rather than corporate executives, both in their
unique responsibilities, their accountability, and their
compensation. To impose such a corporate culture and
values on an academic institution is both disruptive and
dangerous to its fundamental purpose and mission.

Institutional Saga
Universities such as Michigan are based on longstanding traditions and continuities evolving over
many generations (in some cases, even centuries), with
very particular sets of values, traditions, and practices.
Burton R. Clark, a noted sociologist and scholar of
higher education, introduced the term “institutional
saga,” to refer to those long-standing characteristics that
determine the distinctiveness of a college or university.
These might consist of long-standing practices or

277

A half-century of service...for the love of Michigan
unique roles played by an institution, or even in the
images held in the minds (and hearts) of students,
faculty, and alumni.
In other books (see Appendix) we have suggested
that Michigan’s unique combination of quality,
breadth, scale, and spirit has given it a unique capacity
for leadership in higher education. Michigan’s vast size
and breadth allows it to experiment and innovate on
a scale far beyond that tolerated by most institutions,
as evidenced by its long history of leadership in higher
education. It can easily recover from any failures it
encounters on its journeys along high-risk paths. This
ability to take risks, to experiment and innovate, to
explore various new directions in teaching, research,
and service, enables Michigan’s unique role in American
higher education. During a time of great change in
society, Michigan’s most important institutional saga
is that of a pathfinder and a trailblazer, building on its
tradition of leadership to reinvent the university, again
and again, for new times, new needs, and new worlds.
And it is this unique character as a pathfinder and

trailblazer that should shape the University’s mission,
vision, and goals for the future. Such bold efforts
both capture and enliven the institutional saga of the
University of Michigan. And these are the traits that
must be recognized, honored, and preserved to earn its
reputation as a “leader and best”.

A Privilege and a Calling
We have regarded it as a great privilege to have
served this wonderful university during the past half
century. Indeed, we have regarded our various roles–
faculty member, community leader, academic leader,
historian, and author–as callings of great importance
over a lifetime of service. And over these many years,
our respect, loyalty, and commitment to the University
have continued to grow. While emotions toward an
institution always have a symbolic character, we have
come to understand our service to the University, its
academic community, and the people dependent upon
it, as very much driven by our love of Michigan!

278

Appendix A

Books, Reports, and Websites
Books Relevant to the University of Michigan
and Higher Education
Anne and James Duderstadt, A China Odyssey
(University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 1994)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/011667262
James Duderstadt, Legacy Documents (Millennium
Project, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor,
1996)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/003294038
Anne Duderstadt, The University of Michigan
President’s House, (Millennium Project,
University of Michigan)
	 (in iBook format) (2014)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
	 (in text format) (2000)
	http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/003494187
Anne Duderstadt, The Inglis Highlands Estate
(Millennium Project, University of Michigan)
	 (in iBook format) (2014)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
	 (in text format) (2000)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/011706

Anne and James Duderstadt, Wings over the
Nile (The University of Michigan Alumni
Association, Ann Arbor, 1999)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/003449641

James J. Duderstadt, A University for the 21st
Century (University of Michigan Press, Ann
Arbor, 2000)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Rcord/004120306
James J. Duderstadt, Intercollegiate Athletics and
the American University: A University President’s
Perspective (University of Michigan Press, Ann
Arbor, 2000)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/004133434
James J. Duderstadt, Positioning the University of
Michigan for the New Millennium: A Case Study
in University Transformation (Millennium Project
(University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 1999)
http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/011706891
James J. Duderstadt and Farris W. Womack, The
Future of the Public University in America: Beyond
the Crossroads (Johns Hopkins University Press,
Baltimore, 2002)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/004599107
James J. Duderstadt and Daniel E. Atkins, Higher
Education Faces the Digital Age: Technology
Issues and Strategies for American Colleges and
Universities (Praeger Publishers, Westport, CT;
American Council on Education, Washington,
2002)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/004298726

279
Anne Duderstadt, A Seasonal Portrait of the
University of Michigan (Millennium Project,
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 2005)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/005121919
Anne Duderstadt, The University of Michigan College
of Engineering: A Photographic History Celebrating
150 Years (Millennium Project, University of
Michigan, Ann Arbor, 2003)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/003884452
James J. Duderstadt, On the Move: A Personal History
of Michigan’s College of Engineering in Modern
Times (Ann Arbor: Millennium Project,
	 (University of Michigan, 2004) 152 pp.
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/003884451
Anne Duderstadt, The University of Michigan:
A Photographic Saga (Millennium Project,
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 2006)
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/005399524
	 http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/history/
publications/photo_saga/Saga.html
James J. Duderstadt, The View from the Helm: Leading
the American University during an Era of Change
(Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press,
2006) 400 pp.
	 http://catalog.hathitrust.org/
Record/011706897
James J. Duderstadt, Engineering for a Changing
World: A Roadmap to the Future of Engineering
Practice, Research, and Education (Ann Arbor, MI:
Millennium Project, University of Michigan,
2007).
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James J. Duderstadt, The Michigan Roadmap, Redux:
A Call for Leadership (Ann Arbor, MI: Millennium
Project, University of Michigan, 2008).
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu

	
James J. Duderstadt, The View from the Helm
Illustrated: Leading the American University
during an Era of Change (Millennium Project,
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 2010)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James J. Duderstadt, The Michigan Strategy Book:
1986 – 1996 (Ann Arbor, MI: Millennium Project,
University of Michigan, 2010)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James J. Duderstadt, A Master Plan for Higher
Education in the Midwest: A Roadmap to the Future
of America’s Heartland (Chicago, Chicago Council
on Global Affairs, 2011)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James J. Duderstadt, A Master Plan for Higher
Education in the Midwest (Ann Arbor:
Millennium Project, 2010)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James J. Duderstadt, The Third Century: A Roadmap
to the University of Michigan’s Future (Ann Arbor,
MI: Millennium Project, 2011)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
Chad Holiday, James Duderstadt, Research
Universities and the Future of America: Ten
Breakthrough Actions Vital to the Nation’s
Prosperity and Security, Report of the National
Academies Committee on the Future of the
American Research University (Washington DC:
National Academies Press, 2012)
James Duderstadt, The Third Century: A Roadmap to
the University of Michigan’s Future, 3rd Edition (in
both text and iBook format) (2014)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James Duderstadt and Anne Duderstadt, For the
Love of Michigan: A Half-Century of Serving
the University of Michigan (Millenium Project,
Univesity of Michigan, Ann Arbor, 2014)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu

280

James Duderstadt, Charting the Course of the
University of Michigan’s Activities over the Past 50
Years (In preparation, 2015)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James Duderstadt, Tilting at Windmills: Battles Won,
Lost, or Long Since Forgotten, Case Studies in
Science, Technology, and Public Policy (studies and
committees chaired) (In preparation, 2015)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James Duderstadt, Case Studies in Strategic
Roadmapping (Millennium Project, University of
Michigan (In preparation, 2015)
	 http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
James Duderstadt, A University for the 21st Century,
2nd Edition (University of Michigan Press, Ann
Arbor, 2015)
James Duderstadt and Anne Duderstadt,
Universities of the World: A Pictorial Essay, (in
both text and iBook format) (Millennium
Project, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor, in
preparation, 2015)

Web-Based Historical Resources
The Millennium Project
		
http://milproj.dc.umich.edu
The University of Michigan Campus (and Mort’s
Map)
		
http://umhistory.dc.umich.edu/
	
	

The UM 1871-2017 Web Portal on University of
Michigan History
	http://um2017.org/2017_Website/Entry_
Page.html

	 The Faculty History Project
		 http://um2017.org/faculty-history/
	 The Faculty Memoir Project
		 http://www.lib.umich.edu/faculty-memoir/
	 The Staff Memories and Memoirs Project
		 http://www.lib.umich.edu/staff-memoir/
	 The Town-Gown Historical Maps Project
		 http://specular.dmc.dc.umich.edu/map/
drag/
	

The Collection of UM Historical Books by the HathiTrust
		 http://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/
mb?a=listis;c=745985614

281

Glion Colloquium Books on Higher Education
	

All available online at: http://www.glion.org

James J. Duderstadt and Luc E. Weber, Eds, Reinventing the Research University, IV Glion Colloquium (London: Economica, 2003) 254 pp.
Luc Weber and James Duderstadt, eds., Universities
and Business: Partnering for the Knowledge Economy, V Glion Colloquium (Paris: Economica:
2005)
Luc Weber and James Duderstadt, eds., The Globalization of Higher Education, VI Glion Colloquium
(Paris: Economica, 2007)
James J. Duderstadt and Luc Weber, eds, University
Research for Innovation, Glion VII Colloquium
(Paris: Economica, 2009).
Luc Weber and James Duderstadt, eds., Global Sustainability and the Role of Universities, VIII Glion
Colloquium (Paris: Economica, 2011)
Luc Weber and James J. Duderstadt, Preparing
Universities for an Era of Change, IX Glion Colloquium (Paris: Economica, 2013)
Luc Weber and James Duderstadt, Balancing External Responsibilities with University Priorities and
Constraints, X Glion Colloquium (Paris: Economica: 2015)