A look behind the scenes

What those emails at the UofA reveal isn’t pretty

— IT CAN get mighty crowded behind the scenes when a shortfall in the millions is discovered at the University of Arkansas’ “flagship” campus at Fayetteville. And the emails start to fly. This weekend readers of the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette got to read some of the increasingly nervous emails that were being fired back and forth between various high poobahs at the university as the weeks and the fruitless search for the missing funds went on. The emails make revealing reading, however sad, as their senders become more and more mystified by what they’re discovering—not to say panicky, indignant and defensive by turns.

It’s still not entirely clear where so much of our tax money went, not to mention the part of the shortfall represented by generous gifts from the university’s benefactors. But it is clear that somebody, or maybe several somebodies, messed up on an impressive scale. At least impressive to us. The university’s top names may be used to throwing around figures like $3.1 million, but the inky wretches who have to watch these goings-on from the bleachers aren’t. We have enough of a challenge just reporting and opining on them.

It turns out that our Debbye Hale-Shelton isn’t the only Scoop-a-Day reporter covering a state university for the Democrat-Gazette. Ms. Hale-Shelton is the combination Brenda Starr-Lois Lane who’s been chronicling the scandals at the University of Central Arkansas since Lu Hardin’s meteoric fall from grace as its president, which was followed in short order by the abrupt rise and abrupter decline of his successor, Allen Meadors. Which now has been followed by the indictment of Jack Gillean on a variety of charges. He was once about the most trusted administrator on UCA’s campus. The mighty keep on falling.

Through it all, our Miss Debbye has covered the whole scandalous saga at Conway, including the commendable efforts of a new administration to get a handle on it. At last report, UCA’s new and welcome president—Tom Courtway—was installing better controls over the school’s finances and the master keys to its administrative offices. He’s also establishing a hot line for whistle-blowers to report any irregularities, to use a polite word, that may come to their attention on that too-long-troubled campus.

AS FOR this still developing scandal at the University of Arkansas, our Tracie Dungan has been on it like white on rice—or is it like a hound dog on a squirrel? Anyway, now she’s used the state’s everuseful Freedom of Information Act to let the rest of us know what various administrators at the University of Arkansas were trying to keep very, very quiet. Until this $3.1-million shortfall couldn’t be bottled up any longer.

Thank you, Winthrop Rockefeller, for the Freedom of Information Act you instituted A.F. (After Faubus) throughout state government. Along with so many other reforms. This time, thanks to the FOI Act, the whole state can read what the university’s vice chancellor for “advancement” was telling another vice chancellor, the one for finance-and-administration, when he heard that the cat—or rather tiger in this case—was out of the bag. Or at least that a rumor about the shortfall had made it to the engineering school. (It seems an assistant dean over there had asked the school’s own director of development if she knew “Development was broke . . .”)

The reaction of Vice Chancellor Brad Choate, who’s still the university’s director of development at least in name, was swift, and not pleased: “I’m not sure where the breakdown in confidentiality occurred but this is not good.” His concern was soon echoed in a phone call from Chancellor David Gearhart to the interim dean of the College of Engineering requesting “confidentiality” about the shortfall and the Development Division’s needing a loan to tide it over.

Mr. Choate sounded at least as concerned about keeping the scandal secret—or rather “confidential,” to use the latest term of art in bureaucratic circles—as he was in finding out what had gone so spectacularly wrong with his division’s bookkeeping. Both the chancellor and vice chancellor for finance and administration sounded equally concerned about word getting out. Collegiality isn’t the same as love but it, too, can cover a multitude of sins.

What a pity Brad Choate’s budget chief—Joy Sharp—has so far declined to comment publicly on this continuing story and revelation. (Yes, believe it or not, somebody in Mr. Choate’s division was supposed to be watching the budget.) It’s always good to hear from the underling who’s inevitably blamed when a top bureaucrat has a scandal on his watch. But in this case the budget officer is still keeping mum. Joy Sharp needs to speak up. What she knows, the rest of the state should. For it’s our money that’s disappeared.

THERE’S a lot more to come, surely, as this whole business is sorted out—as it needs to be. What has yet to emerge is a word of apology from either Brad Choate, who’s supposed to be responsible for the whole Advancement division, or his boss, Chancellor David Gearhart, who’s taken over the day-to-day duties of his job.

Mr. Choate has been told his appointment won’t be renewed at the end of this fiscal year, but till then he retains his impressive title (Vice Chancellor for Advancement) and his even more impressive salary of some $350,000 a year. Instead of an apology, he issued a puff piece about what a great public servant he’s been.

Shortly after the alarming extent of the shortfall was becoming clear, Director Choate did came up with a bright idea: Tax gifts to the university to cover his division’s overhead. After all, somebody has got to pay that almost $350,000 salary. Vice Chancellor Choate’s division may have come up $3.1 million short, but no one can say he’s short of nerve.

The estimable Bradford Choate needs to find another job ASAP, and spare the university’s flagship campus the embarrassment of his presence there any longer. Because as long as he’s in charge of its “advancement,” it’s hard to see how that term can be used without irony on campus, especially as its next big fund-raising drive takes shape. Say, how about calling it the Brad Choate Gift-Giving Special, just to lend it a little panache, and some dark humor?

Back in the real world, the sooner this scandal is explained, and responsibility for it properly assigned and accepted, the sooner the university can get on with restoring its good name. Just as the University of Central Arkansas is doing.

These things happen in the best university families; it’s only the worst that try to dodge responsibility for them.

Editorial, Pages 14 on 12/11/2012

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