First, we inherited amazing bones. We were lucky. There were visionaries before us who did some amazing things—almost 200 years of things. Second, we didn’t hire one of those expensive consultants. You know, the kind who put sticky notes in the middle of the table and get everybody talking about dreams and hopes. But that’s where it ends.
What we did was basic, and difficult. We are, after all, a business that’s essential to many people. We train doctors and lawyers and archaeologists. We develop filmmakers and design artists. We nurture poets and environmentalists. We needed a plan that we could execute. Yes, there would be dreams, but the plan had to be based in reality.
We had to figure out what would really make a difference to the University, to the students, to the world. Then break it down into realistic actions. Like hiring more professors—amazing people who inspire amazing people.
That’s nice, but growth costs money, lots of it, so we had to do the un-fun stuff, like figure out how to tighten our budget. We looked hard at where all the money’s going—some programs that had been with us for years were outdated and had to go because we needed to budget for digital learning experiences.
So if you are a BU alum, you might not recognize the place. If you are part of our cohort of peer universities, you might find your perceptions upended. And if you are part of us now, you’ll be proud.