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Last Friday I asked my wise and worldly readers who work at teaching-intensive colleges what the last step is in the faculty interview process.
The answers varied, but they shared a common denominator: the final interview was always one-on-one, with a high-ranking administrator (dean, VP or president) making the final call.
That was … surprising.
When the final interview for a faculty position rests with a dean or higher, working alone, then that dean or higher is cast into one of two roles: either a rubber stamp for the committee or a rogue. Neither is great. A rubber stamp is a waste of time, and a rogue undermines the work of the committee (and potentially introduces all sorts of bias).
Years ago, at a previous college, I started doing the final round by a second committee: the chair of the first-round committee, the college diversity officer, the relevant dean and me. We typically interview three or four finalists. Everybody asks questions, and everybody gets to weigh in at the decision stage.
Each person has a role to play. The chair of the first-round committee has subject matter knowledge and can speak to the teaching demonstrations that candidates gave in the first round. They can also raise a red flag if a candidate presents themselves as a wildly different person than they did in the first round. It’s rare, but it happens. Finally, the chair of the first-round committee can give voice to observations made by the initial committee.
The college diversity officer can focus on issues of equity and access in teaching. Their presence also sends a message that we take equity issues seriously enough to weave an awareness of them into our normal processes, rather than treating them as add-ons or afterthoughts.
The dean of the area in which the professor would teach typically speaks to the tenure process, teaching assignments, and the like. As the CAO, I offer some perspective on collegewide direction. I also try to guard against groupthink.
After the last candidate has been interviewed, the group of four deliberates. I usually ask the first-round chair to offer impressions first, followed by the diversity officer, then the dean. I go last. The idea is to get uncontaminated impressions. In almost every case, we land on a consensus first choice. Experience has taught me to ask for a clear second choice as well, since sometimes the top-choice candidate refuses the offer.
No process is perfect, but I have a lot more confidence in the decisions made when they’re reflective of more eyes on the question. Having four people in the last round—three when someone can’t make it—decreases the unintended relevance of any one person’s unconscious biases. Everybody notices different things. More than once, I’ve been convinced by the committee that my initial favorite wasn’t the best choice. That’s good; they saw things I didn’t see. (It goes the other way, as well. In one memorable case many years ago, a department was so enamored of a candidate’s high-powered research background that they didn’t notice the open contempt with which that candidate spoke of disability accommodations. I noticed. That candidate did not get the job.)
Having a heterogeneous group also helps defuse conspiracy theories. At another memorable instance many years ago, the first-round committee’s top choice did a massive face-plant in the second round and did not get the offer. Having the chair of the first-round committee there to see it prevented the surprising result from leading to folks on the first committee feeling ignored or dismissed. She was able to report back, truthfully, that the candidate bombed the second round. That prevented the surprise from leading to unnecessary bitterness or a sense of betrayal.
I recommend this approach to any college looking to hire well. I’m proud of my hiring record, but part of the reason it’s good is that it isn’t just mine. I’ve had help. And adopting this process really doesn’t cost much. Yes, there’s a bit of staff time, but making better hires is worth it. Over time, it’s much less taxing to make good choices up front, even if it takes a bit of planning, than to deal with the fallout of bad decisions years later.
