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.