Posted on Sun, Dec. 14, 2003


Clemson at critical crossroads


Staff Writer

Privatization beckons, but is the price too high?

Since the days following Reconstruction, the fortunes of South Carolina always have been closely tied with Clemson University.

That’s why the offer by Gov. Mark Sanford to privatize Clemson struck a strong chord with school officials.

The offer, made at a press conference at The Citadel on Dec. 5, stemmed from Sanford’s desire to marshal colleges behind his plan for more centralized control of higher education.

Sanford repeatedly singled out Clemson as one school that should be granted an “exit valve” from state control. He said the Upstate school is the most reticent about his ideas for stronger central control of the state’s colleges.

Sanford’s offer highlights Clemson’s new dilemma: It wants to function like a private school, setting its own agenda, but is still dependent on state dollars for survival.

While most top-ranking officials refuse to discuss the proposal publicly, the question now is whether the school will call Sanford’s bluff.

Going private is unlikely, several people close to the university believe, citing the cost and Clemson’s public service function.

A UNIQUE ARRANGEMENT

When compared with other public colleges in South Carolina, Clemson University is an odd duck.

It’s one of only two designated “land grant” institutions in South Carolina, schools created to serve specific needs within the state. (South Carolina State University is the other.)

The school was created posthumously by wealthy landowner Thomas Green Clemson, who willed his land to the state in 1889 for the creation of a college that would “afford useful information to the farmers and mechanics” of South Carolina.

The university always has seen Clemson’s will as the foundation of its mission to serve the public through agricultural research and services.

But even in his will, Clemson envisioned the possibility of a private school. The document states that a private school would be established if lawmakers failed to accept the terms of his will.

“It was always in (Thomas) Clemson’s mind that the preferred thing was to be a state institution,” said Jerry Reel, a medieval studies professor at Clemson who is working on a book detailing the school’s history.

From its founding, Clemson has had a strong public service component. The school now operates 45 full-time agricultural extension offices, which offer consultations and advice on horticulture.

According to Reel, Clemson has been a leading force behind all the state’s economic transitions — from farming to the textile boom and, more recently, becoming a preferred location for European manufacturers.

But there are other parts of Clemson’s history that make it less like a public institution.

Clemson’s metamorphosis into a full-fledged university didn’t happen until 1964. Until 1955, for example, it operated as an all-male military academy.

Seven out of the 13 members of Clemson’s board of trustees are lifetime members, a unique requirement of the Thomas Clemson will. Typically, when a lifetime trustee dies, one of the Legislature-appointed trustees is elected by the board and takes his or her place.

Clemson’s will stipulates that six of the trustees are to be elected by the Legislature.

The lifetime membership arrangement, in theory at least, makes the school less accountable to the public than those where most trustees are elected by the Legislature.

Trustees are reluctant to offer independent comments on major policy issues, typically referring questions to the chairman of the board.

Neither Clemson president James Barker nor board chairman Bill Hendrix could be reached for this story.

But some say that trustee clause could be a sticking point in the privatization deal.

“We would need to look very closely at the will of Thomas Green Clemson to see if something like (privatization) would even be legal,” said state Rep. Bill Sandifer, R-Pickens. “How can a state legislature appoint trustees to a private school?”

‘A HYBRID’

In several speeches this year, Barker has raised eyebrows by saying Clemson should no longer be considered a “state-supported” institution.

Instead, Barker prefers to call Clemson a “hybrid” institution, given the dwindling percentage of its budget that comes from state support.

Barker and others say Clemson should be allowed to operate more as a private institution, partnering with private businesses and operating outside state procurement laws.

Clemson isn’t the only S.C. school making that case. But it’s already begun to more closely resemble a private or at least an elite public school.

Some Clemson officials say many aspects of the school, including its size and public funding, are similar to those at the University of Virginia, which has a private law school.

Nestled in rural Pickens County, Clemson has a campus atmosphere and aesthetics that suggest a private school rather than a public institution, said student body president Fletcher Anderson.

“A lot of people had said that, and it’s true, but it’s hard to say exactly why that is,” he said. “People have so much pride in the school ... that I think it makes it different.”

Clemson also is steadily ratcheting up its admissions standards. It’s now the state’s most selective public university, with the average SAT score of entering freshmen this fall topping 1200.

But the school has been hit with criticism that it doesn’t serve all of the state’s residents. Only 7 percent of its students are black.

At the same time, tuition has skyrocketed over the last decade — climbing 140 percent since 1993 for in-state students. And out-of-state students, who pay even more, make up about 35 percent of the student body.

Trustee J.J. Britton said the school has had little choice but to raise tuition and find other sources of revenue.

“When the budget cuts began, Jim (Barker) said we weren’t going to whine or cry, but we were going to move forward,” he said.

Dale Linvill, an agriculture professor and head of Clemson’s Faculty Senate, agrees.

“We would ask: ‘Is the state really interested in supporting public higher education in South Carolina?’” Linvill said. “Actions in recent years have a lot of faculty members really wondering about that.”

But, Linvill added, a “back of the envelope” calculation by some faculty members shows Clemson would have to raise tuition to $25,000 a year to make up for the loss of state dollars if the school became private.

Rep. Sandifer said that would make privatization unpalatable to many lawmakers.

“Essentially, I see that as a possible tax increase for every parent that sends a student to Clemson,” he said.

The fate of Sanford’s proposal may well rest on what the “Clemson family” of alumni think, said state Rep. Doug Jennings, D-Bennettsville, who graduated from the school.

“Clemson’s grass-roots have proven time and time again they can mobilize around an issue, and I think their say will be heard loudly and clearly,” he said.

If that’s true, it might not take long to get the verdict.

“I knew the governor was looking for alternatives for higher education, but I was surprised by this,” said Eddie Robinson, president of Clemson’s Alumni Association and a member of Sanford’s Commission on Management, Accountability and Performance.

That commission was created to help streamline state government.

“For us, our public service mission is a huge part of who we are and I don’t see how we separate from that.”

Reach Stensland at (803) 771-8358 or jstensland@thestate.com.





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