He was certain I was missing the story – at least what he saw as the story.
More than once, Stephen Goudge, author of the much-discussed Goudge Review of Presidential Compensation Practices, answered my questions succinctly and then punctuated his replies with five additional words – “But that’s not the story.”
Now, I no longer get offended when someone presumes to know what my story is; but I also no longer plant my heels and firmly refuse to take a second look at what they insist is an important element of a story they believe I am overlooking.
Goudge believes the entire kerfuffle involving the president monetizing administrative leave could have been avoided if the Board of Governors simply had a detailed definition of what ‘administrative leave’ meant and how it could be used. That lack of definition opened up a chasm for interpretation through which Board Chair Chirag Shah and President Amit Chakma rewrote the president’s leave clause in what Goudge described as “good faith.”
Here’s what the former Ontario Court of Appeal justice stressed to me:
“It was a huge part of the reaction. If one looks at administrative leave, and just takes that concept, as ill-defined as it is in the abstract, does it include simply taking money? My view is that it doesn’t. If you want it to include just taking money, you should call it ‘salary enhancement.’
The person on the street would equate administrative leave with sabbatical leave – except that it is for senior administrators. But it doesn’t involved simply taking money alone.
But the problem was it wasn’t defined. If it had been defined, as I think most people understand it, then this term in the original contract wouldn’t have been written the way it was.
There are a few contracts across the country – and it’s a very small number, because most don’t define it at all – but several define it as, in effect, ‘re-invigorating yourself into your discipline.’ Had that been it, nobody would have said, ‘Well, to re-invigorate yourself back into your discipline, what you really need is a year’s pay.’ That doesn’t compute.
It would dispel some of the cause of the problem, going forward, if the purpose of administrative leave is given a little definition.”
His crux was clarity.
Projecting that idea back on the events leading up to the controversy makes some sense. There was confusion. Even the verbiage was wrong early on, with the Board, including the chair, referring to administrative leave as ‘sabbatical’ for the president.
Quite frankly, that would be an appropriate use of the word outside a university, where the term has become almost synonymous with any type of leave. But inside The Gates, sabbatical has a long history and well-defined meaning – about seven pages worth at Western, to be exact.
And nothing irritates academics more – OK, a lot irritates academics, but this one really does – than using sabbatical improperly. They take enough abuse outside The Gates from people who don’t understand the concept. Admittedly, it is a tough sell to the general public. But those on the inside know how valuable it can be. But there are rules to taking it – well-defined, detailed rules.
Perhaps as a starting point, the Board should check out the 24-point definition of sabbatical set down for Western faculty. Sure, it reads a bit like the tax code. But it leaves little room for interpretation. If only administrative leave been defined so well, we might not be where we are today.