Organizations of all types fascinate me. The larger, the more fascinating. There must be a genetic marker for those who fit well or even thrive in large organizations. I am missing that entire gene sequence. While there were hints early on — for example, when I was fired from McDonald's after three months — it wasn’t until my employment at a sizable public university that my fascination turned into woeful astonishment.

Bear with me. We are talking about nothing less than the collapse of civilization; no real need to tackle the entire topic though, when it would suffice to look at its core symptoms in microcosm: the public university.

The sad astonishment I referenced comes with a personal anecdote. How I remained employed at the university for many years is also a kind of astonishment — they obviously did not bother to talk with my former manager at McDonald's or I forgot to mention that on my CV. Whatever.

The story begins with me as a university department manager, and an employee who resigned his post that resulted in a job vacancy. A normal bureaucrat, one with a normal genetic sequence, would simply re-post the position through human resources. Not me. As if struck by lightning, it occurred to me this might just be an opportunity to gain organizational efficiencies.

And so, one fine day, I sauntered into the VP’s office (mind you, I was fully vested at this point) with a revised organization chart of my own staff in hand, and proceeded to explain how not one but three positions can be eliminated. There was a long pause. I noticed the blood had left his face prior to speaking.

This was a singular moment of grace in which untold centuries of unconscious programmed responses would issue forth from his mouth in assembly-line fashion, and I would be a blessed witness to the inner workings of civilization’s collapse. He didn’t disappoint.

“You are new to university management; I can tell. Our staff grows in order to respond to student growth. The addition of each and every staff position is contested and fought for. Giving up a position is a decrease to your budget. Departments are about increasing their budgets because when forced budget cuts come down, you’ll find yourself unable to carry out your mission.”

A work of art. I gently pressed on with my reorganization and he insisted, as a result of my naivete, that he take the open position number to use at his discretion.

In addition to economic and social forces, society will implode under the immense weight of this sedentary, pension-obsessed administrative class. This university VP would have been equally comfortable as a tax magistrate in fifth century Rome with unwavering loyalty to the system, however corrupt. Lance Christensen of the California Policy Institute describes the system (and him) well: “We’re not creating a system of learning so much as a system of dependency.”

The lofty ideals initially held by tenure-track faculty have a brief shelf-life. Scott Galloway of NYU reflects upon the question faculty ask themselves each morning: “How can I increase my compensation while reducing my accountability?” In hindsight, I now know better why my pitch for a staff reduction left the VP cold: It came with a plea to heighten accountability.

That enrollments are declining nationwide can, in large measure, be attributed to a flatulent bureaucratic culture. Between the ages of 16 to 21, young adults have a keen radar for B.S. Cynicism is the last thing this dopamine-infused, cellphone-addicted cohort needs. The university could have served as an antidote, if not a refuge. Over the next five years, undergraduate enrollment is forecast to drop 15%.

The pillars are crumbling. Two-thirds of Americans say they lack confidence in higher education. I end up telling my students this: “You were dealt a raw hand. My generation failed you big-time. If you don’t find a way to graduate from this institution with superior communication or technical skills, you’ll be hobbling on financial crutches for the foreseeable future.” And then I lie: “Don’t worry,” comes my reassurance, “civilization won’t collapse.”

After years of globetrotting, Todd J. Broadman finds himself writing from his perch on the Palouse and loving the view. His policy briefs can be found at US Renew News: https://www.usrenewnews.org