The dean of the law school where I work recently made two remarkable posts on LinkedIn about what he called "myopic prestige-based foolishness" and the "legal profession's snobbery," and then announced his resignation.
At risk of burying the lead, I want to focus on the two posts. On that score, tighten your seat belt, because you might never have heard these words from me before: I agree with the dean.
Young people's socioeconomic prospects continue to turn in bleak data—this week, a record low in first-time home buyers—spurring growing, alarming, and not characteristically American skepticism of democracy, at least the capital-driven version. (I wrote recently about the fondness of young Bhutanese for their socially minded monarchy.) I wonder whether this century will at last see American voters hit rock bottom and do something about our broken Constitution.
Socioeconomic stagnation, or worse, downward social mobility, in American society, irrespective of individual merit, is becoming ever harder to conceal behind starry-eyed paeans to the supposed land of opportunity.
I've written before about my own career track and the not-a-meritocracy that America is and maybe always has been, fabled reputation notwithstanding. It's unusual, though, to hear a law school dean say anything critical of the socioeconomic status quo—much less speaking from personal perspective. Usually deans in public prefer to paint rosy pictures. And I get it: morosity is not conducive to opening the checkbooks of well-to-do benefactors or prospective students.
Deans have their job, and I have mine. Mine just happens to trade in truth. If you catch a dean just as her or his light is being extinguished, you might catch a rare glimpse of truth even there.
It should be said, I like Dean Sam Panarella. I've always thought his heart is in the right place and that he prizes ideals over self-preservation and bean counting. The latter are the prevalent priorities in the well compensated ranks of higher-education administration. Maybe that's why he wasn't cut out for it.
My main worry about Dean Panarella always was how long he could stand to beat his head against a wall of willful intransigence. That's no secret; I told him that in our first 1:1 meeting.
I am sad but understanding in reporting that we now know the answer: three years.
Here is Dean Panarella's first post of two days ago. This post might seem innocuous, by the way—it did to me—owing in part to its polite eloquence. So know that things are going to heat up a notch thereafter.
At the time I write this post, there is no negative reaction whatsoever showing under this LinkedIn post. Reactions and comments comprise nothing but heaps of praise and agreement, likes and applause.
But Dean Panarella must have heard some discontent from someone, and fast. Because here goes the second post, within a day.
"Snobbery," you say? Well, the first post did not actually use that word, preferring instead the more genteel "foolishness." Yet the genteel approach "struck a nerve." I welcome the plain language to call out elitism for what it is.
U.S. News recently ranked UMass Law 171 of those nearly 200 law schools. That's bad—inexcusable—for the only public law school in the commonwealth at age 16.
A significant part of UMass Law's inability to better its ranking is forgivable as a function of the elitism problem the dean wrote about. Though U.S. News shrank the proportional input of reputational scoring in its law school ranking methodology since years past, now 25%, it's still a heavy investment in elitist defense of the status quo. U.S. News reported UMass Law at a sad 1.6 of 5 in academic peer review, and an only somewhat better 2.5 of 5 among lawyers and judges.
In turning down the volume of reputation, U.S. News amped up the value of inputs justifiably important to law students, such as placement and bar pass. Placement remains indirectly dependent on reputation. That's the very "class ceiling" the dean decried. It has been notoriously difficult for UMass Law graduates, regardless of merit, even to score interviews in the white-shoe Boston legal market. U.S. News reported mediocre employment outcomes at UMass Law.
Even a seemingly straightforward statistic such as bar pass conceals a bias in favor of privilege. In my experience, and the law school has some research to back this up, the number one obstacle my UMass Law students face in preparing for the bar exam is not being able to afford time off to study. Multiply that obstacle by the relentless demands of career and family for nontraditional students. The problem is money, not merit.
All that said, I am not letting UMass Law and the commonwealth off the hook. The bottom-line problem at UMass Law is and always has been, simply, the bottom line.
A public law school with an access mission sounds great in a speech. Indeed, UMass Law exists in part to combat the very elitism that oppresses it. But to assume that a public law school can be simultaneously more affordable for students and less costly to run than a private counterpart—well, I might call that myopic foolishness.
A school with an access mission will have more nontraditional students than its conventional academic counterparts. An access school will face greater student needs to overcome the serious shortcomings of American K16 education. An access school will have more students unable to afford resources, such as study aids, textbooks, and tutoring, not to mention the opportunity costs of working for free in field placements and internships. The list goes on.
The consequence of these student needs is that the school must shoulder a heavier than usual burden: more financial aid, more library resources, more faculty and teaching assistants, just to start. More resources means more costs. So a public, access school must cost more to run than its conventional counterpart in a competitive private school or foundation-funded "flagship" public school. Cutting pricey hors d'oeuvres from receptions and leather furniture from the lobby is not going to make up that difference.
Massachusetts never reckoned with this reality in creating UMass Law. The Massachusetts model of public higher education does not see universities as a social investment. Rather, academic units such as the law school are expected to pay their own way, balancing tuition and fees with expenditures.
Idealism doesn't make math go away. A law school cannot take in less than a counterpart, but spend more. Yet that was the calculation with which the commonwealth founded its public law school.
Dean Panarella announced his resignation today, effective at academic year's end. He will move on to be the chief executive officer of the Foundation for Natural Resources and Energy Law.
What job did he not get? We should call out the enforcers of that class ceiling.
Meanwhile, chalk up another win for the bean counters.
They are undefeated.
