“Your Professor Will Know You as a Person”

Abstract

Over the past 30 years, several management educators have urged faculty to reexamine their relationships with students. To do this, many have proposed novel metaphors to reconceptualize the faculty-to-student relationship. These include embracing students not as pupils to be taught but rather as clients, consumers, and even employees. At the heart of these metaphors, though, is a subtle and not-so-subtle pressure to build more intimate, personal, and close relationships with students. As more and more stories surface in the scholarly and practitioner press about “close relationships” that have devolved into sad and disappointing outcomes for students, faculty, and universities, it is necessary to revisit the core assumption that closer is better. In this essay, we describe the forces driving more personal relationships between faculty and students. Next, we question the assumptions along with the unintended consequences of adopting more intimate relationships with students. Finally, we conclude by challenging management educators to rethink the notion of professional calling along with the notion of pedagogical caring. To be sure, we offer some prescriptions and principles to help management educators navigate the student–faculty relationship—a relationship, we believe, more in flux now than in any other time in the history of higher education.

Keywords

faculty and schools business school culture faculty development academic leadership future of management education research higher education student engagement teaching and learning

I have students I’ve developed personal relationships with. It gets deep quick. I’m never sure if I should listen or offer advice. After all, I’m out of my depth here. I was trained to teach operations management. I’m not a psychologist or a trained counselor. And I don’t know how to turn off some of these conversations. It started with a coffee. But how do I put the genie back in the bottle? I wish I’d just kept it professional.

Some of the more intriguing and engaging articles in the Journal of Management Education (JME) center on metaphors of the faculty–student relationship. They cast students as clients, employees, or customers in relation to faculty (Bailey, 2000; Franz, 1998; Gillespie & Parry, 2009). While metaphors help enable quick learning and understanding, they are imperfect, worthy of investigation, and require scholars to revisit core assumptions to ensure accuracy and validity (Morgan, 1986). Underlying the metaphors above are the assumptions that faculty are to relate to students as adults, the social distance between faculty and student can be easily controlled and readily adjusted, and faculty have the agency to determine the type of relationships they wish to have with students. Similarly, in these very pages, scholars have implored us to employ an “ethic of care” with our students—to care pedagogically about them and not to “give up” on them, irrespective of their academic performance (Hawk & Lyons, 2008). It is a more expansive conceptualization of the student–faculty relationship that requires faculty to emotionally engage with students beyond academics. It is difficult to argue against such a notion—that faculty should care about their students—but, what if we were to challenge the assertion that a professor should get to know his or her student as a person, or at the very least, what if we were to attend to some questions that remain on the margins of this very notion?

Many questions do, indeed, abound. As with the student as client or employee, what are the ways we demonstrate or operationalize our “caring” about and for students? When faculty enact this ethic of care with students, are they and the students equipped to navigate the personal nature of the relationship? Could there be faculty burnout that accompanies more personal caring, a phenomenon evident in the helping professions (Halbesleben, 2009)? Should there be support services to assist faculty in this regard? What are the boundaries of such relationships and what happens when they are crossed? Perhaps, most important, is there empirical evidence showing that more personal relationships improve student learning and development? These questions and this essay do not suggest that some personal interaction, guidance, and care are not sometimes needed and appropriate. What we do ask is whether this should ever be the dominant logic. In this essay, we open this question to you, the reader, to reflect on.

By their very nature, essays are meant to be provocative to incite critical debate and important dialogue. As we challenge some orthodoxy below, we acknowledge that we deliberately put forth some rather strong positions in the hope of sparking discussion among management educators. We ask the reader to embrace the tone and to accompany us on this journey into some oft-ignored areas of management education. To be sure, this is a controversial topic with passionate stakeholders on all fronts.

The potential for abuses to occur in negotiating the relational space between faculty and students is reflected in lawsuits, broken careers, and unmet expectations. Entertainment media offer many examples of the questionable effects of the “cool professor” who smokes and drinks with and engages in sexual relationships with students (e.g., Donald Sutherland’s character in Animal House and Patricia Arquette’s in Boyhood). Fiction aside, Harvard administrators appear to have recognized the inherent difficulties in student–faculty nonacademic relationships. They recently issued a policy mandate forbidding Harvard professors from engaging in sexual relationships with Harvard undergraduate students (Harvard University, 2015). Harvard’s move comes on the heels of other highly publicized lapses that range from individual (i.e., Northwestern) to more systemic abuses of the faculty–student relationship (Yale University, University of Connecticut; Kipnis, 2015).

Of course, these are examples of rather egregious cases in which the faculty–student relationship careened off the rails. Moving our attention from the scandalous to the more subtle, we offer that even “small” or “well-intentioned” relational entreaties between faculty and students can have damaging consequences. We begin our discussion with some background on the student–instructor engagement perspective and agenda.

Origins and Successors of the Faculty–Student Engagement Push

Beginning in the 1980s, education advocacy groups pushed for reform in university teaching, focused, in part, on active learning, diversity, and community involvement (Brint, 2011). From this movement, various “high-impact” educational practices evolved, many of which require students and faculty to interact off-campus in nontraditional contexts and roles. Examples of such practices include first-year seminars, learning communities, service learning and capstone courses, research and multisemester projects, and internships (Brint, 2011; Brownell & Swaner, 2010; Evenbeck & Johnson, 2012; Gallup, Inc., 2014; Kuh, 2008; Rhoades, 2012a). These instructional strategies and their corresponding philosophies were institutionalized in 2000 by the National Survey of Student Engagement (NSSE; 2001). Student–faculty contact was identified as influential in fostering student engagement (Brint, 2011). Subsequent work suggested such contact and the “high-impact” learning practices also increased student achievement, retention, and attainment (Brownell & Swaner, 2010; Gallup, Inc., 2014; Kuh, 2008; Kuh, Kinzie, Schuh, & Whitt, 2005; Rhoades, 2012a).

Although the National Survey of Student Engagement tapped into out-of-class academic student–faculty interfaces, other widely used assessments, such as the Early Collegiate Experiences, Freshman Year (Milem & Berger, 1997), College Student, and Freshman surveys (Sax, Bryant, & Harper, 2005), and the Gallup–Purdue Index (Gallup, Inc., 2014), addressed nonacademic student–faculty experiences, as well. Out-of-class faculty–student interactions tend to take place away from the formal instructional context and include activities such as faculty hosting students in their homes, having lunch or coffee with students, and doing social activities (e.g., going to the movies) with them (Alderman, 2008; Anaya & Cole, 2001; Astin, 1993; Hopkins-Powell, 2002; Kuh & Hu, 2001; Lohr, 2004; Milem & Berger, 1997). In addition, these out-of-class relationships involve professors providing students with emotional support and encouragement, caring about students as individuals, and taking an interest in them (Alderman, 2008; Astin, 1993; Gallup, Inc., 2014; Hopkins-Powell, 2002; Sax et al., 2005). In some instances, faculty engagement means talking to students about their personal problems, befriending them, and even loving them unconditionally (Alderman, 2008; Anaya & Cole, 2001; Astin, 1993; Hopkins-Powell, 2002; Kuh & Hu, 2001; Lohr, 2004).

In the essay that follows, we focus primarily on nonacademic student–professor interactions. We first describe the core forces driving the professorate to adopt more personal relationships with students. Second, we question the assumptions underpinning the faculty–student relational conceptualization through the lenses of the affected stakeholders. Third, we shed light on the consequences of these more intimate relationships. Next, we embrace some tenets of triple-loop learning (Argyris & Schön, 1996) to focus on how the evolving nature of the faculty–student relationship may alter our beliefs about the enactment and delivery of management education. Finally, we offer management educators recommendations on how to best navigate this changing and complex relational compact.

Forces Driving More Personal Faculty–Student Relationships

Challenging the status quo is not easy; it requires courage and a willingness to change course if necessary. We submit, again, that the tone of our arguments is purposefully strong in an effort to fulfill the mandate of JME essays—to push conventional boundaries regarding management education. With that, we begin with an examination of the forces, both explicit and implicit, driving the push for more engaged, personal student–professor relationships.

The Courts

The metaphors and relationships referenced above assume students are adults capable of having adult relationships with their professors. This assumption is problematic in that legally, emotionally, and physically, students are considered adults in some contexts and children in others (Cutright, 2008; Dickerson, 2008; Shoup, Gonyea, & Kuh, 2009; White, 2005). Furthermore, the laws regularly change on this point (Cutright, 2008). Society, at large, is conflicted about the child-to-adult demarcation. For instance, military service, the privilege to register to vote, legal alcohol consumption, and cigarette purchase and use waver between 18 and 21 years of age as a requirement. While many states allow individuals to test for driving privileges at age 16, many vehicle rental companies enforce a rental age standard of 25 years! Clearly, some societal confusion exists on what does and does not constitute an adult. And although higher education has moved away from the insular supervisory environments (e.g., requiring students to live on-campus) popular in the 1960s and 1970s (Sugarman, 2005), it appears the courts are swinging back toward an in loco parentis philosophy today (White, 2005). Policies prohibiting student–instructor sexual relationships, such as Harvard’s (2015) policy, reflect this trend.

Helicopter Parents

One of the constituencies that tends to view college students as children, regardless of the law, is their parents. This oftentimes leads them to assert rights they may not have (e.g., access to their children’s grades; Cutright, 2008) or to demand universities fulfill what they see as their obligations (e.g., making sure students attend class; White, 2005). This pattern is an extension of today’s parenting style in which parents organize their children’s lives, help them make decisions, and protect them from risk and disappointment (Cutright, 2008; Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; Vinson, 2013). Helicopter parents are those who take this approach to the extreme (Hunt, 2008; Vinson, 2013; White, 2005). For most educators, helicopter parents are not a myth, but an uncomfortable reality. To be sure, they influence student recruitment, admission, learning, and graduation (Cutright, 2008; Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; Vinson, 2013; White, 2005). Furthermore, the cost of tuition and the “education as a commodity” mind-set lead parents to expect universities to deliver an acceptable return on their investment (Cutright, 2008; Natale & Doran, 2012; Vinson, 2013). From the parents’ perspective, that return involves caring for and nurturing their children in a personal manner (Young, 2006). Parents expect faculty and staff to continue where they left off, to act not entirely unlike surrogate parents.

Endless Adolescents

Because today’s students’ parents have taken on so many of their children’s responsibilities, students stay heavily connected to and reliant on their parents even after they enter college (Harke, 2010a; Humphreys, 2012; Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; Ng & Forbes, 2009; Shoup et al., 2009). This period of “extended or endless adolescence” may render today’s students unable to assume adult-like relationships with their college instructors (Marano, 2004). Supportive of this claim, research by Schuldt and Totten (2008) suggests students expect their relationships with professors to resemble those with their parents. They found that management and business students expected their instructors to be accessible to them on weekends and evenings and to respond immediately to their communications, much as a parent would. Furthermore, Harke (2010a) reported that the majority of students enter college expecting faculty to get to know them personally, to keep an eye on them, and to care about their performance. Although faculty may respond to these expectations by acting as parental figures, they may also respond by treating students as adults and engaging in more personal, friendly relationships with students who are not mature enough to handle them.

Marketing Orientation

Once thought of as immune to market forces, contemporary management programs and universities now must compete for students. The rise of for-profit institutions, such as the University of Phoenix, along with an increase in students but a steady decline in state funding per student (Campos, 2015), has prompted this shift to compete aggressively for students.

Beginning in the late 20th century, attention and financial investment shifted from educational personnel and activities to student recruitment, enrollment, retention, and completion (Rhoades, 2012a). Universities adopted a marketing approach, targeting parents and students as potential customers. They invested in noneducational facilities, such as student lounges, eateries, and athletic facilities, to “woo” students (Natale & Doran, 2012; Ng & Forbes, 2009; Rhoades, 2012a). Accordingly, we have seen the rise of Key Performance Indicators and metrics in student recruitment and retention (Alvesson, 2013; Franz, 1998; Ng & Forbes, 2009).

Administrators and the marketing arms that work for them use close, meaningful student–faculty relationships to garner the interest of helicopter parents and young people accustomed to personal attention (Klassen, 2000). Those who ignore or fail to advertise the intimate faculty–student relationships are at a competitive disadvantage. For example, Young (2006) asserted that universities overemphasizing academics with parents could be making “a serious recruitment error” as parents value a school’s caring for their children more than its scholarly achievements (p. 126). He recommended universities play up their caring and supportive functions on their websites and in their brochures and orientation sessions. Similarly, admissions offices are urged to establish one-on-one connections with potential students, to communicate “how important they are,” and to encourage them to apply (CollegeStats, 2012). In a similar vein, Klassen (2000, p. 17) found that top universities’ view books primarily featured images of faculty “actively assisting students, often one-on-one, in their academic pursuits.” These types of marketing strategies create romanticized, idealized, and unrealistic beliefs about what students can actually expect to encounter in college (Harke, 2010b; Klassen, 2000; Natale & Doran, 2012).

Nonfaculty Professionals

Along with the emphasis on enrollment and retention, in the late 20th century, universities hired more student and academic affairs staff and information technology professionals to assist students and improve instruction (Rhoades, 2012a). Presently, these nonfaculty employees make up anywhere from one third to one half of universities’ professional employees (Rhoades, 2012a). This influx of nonfaculty professionals was needed, in part, because the competition for students, especially among nonselective schools, resulted in more liberal admissions and completion standards (e.g., see Arum & Roksa, 2011; Brint, 2011). Thus, many of today’s students enter(ed) college without adequate academic preparation, skills, or attitudes (Brint, 2011; Harke, 2010a, 2010b; Humphreys, 2012). About one third of first-year students are enrolled in remedial classes, with the proportion as high as two thirds in certain segments (Rhoades, 2012a). Even by the end of their undergraduate careers, students still may not have the fundamental skills to succeed at active engagement or integrative learning assignments (Dehler & Welsh, 2014; Lund Dean & Fornaciari, 2014). Others, such as Marano (2004), cite the rise in anxiety, depression, alcohol and substance abuse, and eating disorders, due in part to hovering parents, as necessitating the increase in student support staff. It should come as no surprise then that the orientation of this large contingent of employees has influenced expectations of how universities should relate to students. For instance, student affairs and activities staff are urged to post their photos online so as to appear friendly and approachable (Dickerson, 2007). Underpinning these efforts is the belief that we should get personal with our students. Thus, in addition to parents and students expecting and demanding closer, more caring professor–student relationships, universities’ administrators, marketing, and student support staff promote and reinforce this expectation.

Unexamined Assumptions of Faculty–Student Relationships

JME has long enjoyed a reputation as an outlet that challenges orthodoxy. Here, we continue in this tradition by examining some long-held and often unchallenged assumptions that underpin how we approach the faculty–student relationship. We do so by advancing some intriguing questions, across a variety of perspectives, and offer some brief, but provocative, responses, in kind.

The Student Perspective

Do Students Want More Engaged Relationships With Their Professors?

Notably, unchallenged is the notion that students yearn for more intimacy with their management educators. This assumption may be erroneous as research suggests students actually prefer more versus less social distance from instructors. For instance, students feel that the most appropriate professorial role is that of academic professional (Chen, 2000; DiVerniero & Hosek, 2011; Holmes, Rupert, Ross, & Shapera, 1999). However, what “academic professional” means to students may not be what it means to administrators and faculty. We do concede, however, that students’ expectations of intimacy are not monolithic or static; rather, they likely fluctuate depending on interest or time in the program. For instance, a sophomore may have a lower desire for intimacy than a graduating senior. Regardless, we challenge the maxim that all students desire a more intimate connection with the professorate.

Reflective of a consumer attitude, many of today’s students tend to be concerned with credentials versus deep learning. They are described as being bored in class, not wanting to be there, and eager to start their careers. They resist instructors who hold high standards, demand effort, and require them to navigate ambiguity in assignments. Instead, they favor professors who are open to grade and workload negotiations and offer easier coursework (Brint, 2011; Hunt, 2008; Lund Dean & Fornaciari, 2014; Marano, 2004; Natale & Doran, 2012; Ng & Forbes, 2009). Research shows that almost all students talk to their instructors about grades, but only one quarter talk about ideas introduced in class (Arum & Roksa, 2011), reflective of this orientation. Similarly, management and business students have been shown to primarily interact with professors outside the classroom to get help on coursework (Lohr, 2004). In contrast, students with higher high school GPAs, who presumably need less academic help, were less involved with their professors (Milem & Berger, 1997). The conclusion drawn here is that students may care less about a “truly” engaging relationship with their faculty and, instead, prefer a more transactional experience in which grades and coursework dominate.

Do Structural Conditions Allow for More Engaged Student Relationships With Professors?

In addition to students’ lack of preference for closer, more involved academic relationships with professors, structural changes to higher education are precluding the possibilities for more student–faculty engagement. These changes intersect with the consumerism model, as a college education is now obtainable in a variety of formats. Technology and online education, as well as for-profit/privatized institutions, are changing the traditional university structure (Schuster, 2011). While classrooms used to serve a central function in the learning experience, they no longer hold the same caché. No longer is full-time residential enrollment the norm. Today, about half of first-year students are part-time or part-year and the overwhelming majority of students live off-campus or with their parents (Rhoades, 2012a). As opposed to residence halls, which tend to offer more opportunities for frequent and closer student–faculty interaction (Terenzini, Pascarella, & Blimling, 1999), off-campus living draws students away from many faculty. Similarly, today’s students take courses online, sometimes from multiple institutions simultaneously (Rhoades, 2012a). On occasion, they opt for the online version of courses—even when they live on-campus. Left unexamined is the impact this shift has on the faculty–student relationship and what it says about students’ desires to connect with professors.

What Types of Relationships Do Students Desire to Have With Their Professors?

Although students generally do not appear to be interested in closer, academically oriented relationships with their instructors, many students desire and expect more socially oriented ones. Contemporary child–parent relationships are less formal than in the past, with some lamenting they too closely resemble friendships. Many students consider their parents to be their best friends as opposed to authority figures (Hunt, 2008). As a result, students view their professors in similar ways. They do not see them as scholars holding higher status and deserving respect (Wecker, 2012), but instead expect to have relationships with faculty that are social in nature, that is, friends or guides (Olsen et al., 1998). This orientation is consistent with students perceiving college as a social experience filled with friendships and fun versus an academic one with high standards to increase learning and skills (Arum & Roksa, 2011; Brint, 2011).

The rise of social media has also contributed to students’ conceptions of their role in relation to professors. Social media “pull back the curtain” on the professorate and tend to redraw the lines around the faculty–student relationship. Not only can students locate their professors on Facebook and Twitter but many also expect to “follow,” become “friends” with, and communicate with their professors on these platforms. This is not to say that we do not want our students to see their instructors as individuals with lives outside of the classroom. However, we would be remiss if we did not question students’ ability and willingness to abide by professional interaction norms in the classroom when we allow them to communicate with us as “friends” in the digital environment. In fact, students who interact with their professors as friends via social media subsequently feel awkward interacting with them in class (DiVerniero & Hosek, 2011).

The Faculty Perspective

Are Faculty Socialized and Trained to Have More Engaged Relationships With Students?

Most tenure-track professors were trained in research universities where they were socialized to value research, scholarship, and expertise in their academic specialization (Arum & Roksa, 2011; Evenbeck & Johnson, 2012; Kuh et al., 1991; Rhoades, 2012a). Teaching and time spent with students were not emphasized (Kuh et al., 1991) and were sometimes looked on as the domain of those who were not smart enough to excel at research (Brint, 2011). In addition, most faculty were not trained to teach (Austin, 2011; Rhoades, 2012a), let alone to provide emotional support, personal development advice, and so on, being expected of faculty today. Although efforts to prepare future faculty to teach have increased and improved (Brint, 2011), there is still little to no training in the types of student “instruction” (e.g., personal attention, mentoring) many will be expected to perform once they graduate. For instance, many training efforts simply involve requiring graduate teaching assistants attend an orientation session at the start of the semester. Faculty without doctoral degrees, who are often part-time or adjunct faculty, receive virtually no teacher training of any kind (Rhoades, 2012a).

Are Faculty Incentivized to Have More Engaged Relationships With Students?

Second, even though teaching and student engagement have gained traction as worthy professorial pursuits, discipline-based research still affords faculty the greatest reward (Arum & Roksa, 2011; Evenbeck & Johnson, 2012; Sullivan, 2011). It is hardly surprising then, that faced with competing demands on their time and energies, professors may focus on the activities that most directly benefit their careers (Harke, 2010a; Sullivan, 2011). These activities include research, association leadership, skill development, journal reviewing, and so on. Similarly, professors have different priorities throughout their careers. New assistant professors may be more concerned with doing research to gain tenure, whereas professors approaching retirement may be more interested in mentoring students through intensive engagement programs (Rhoades, 2012a).

Are Faculty Work Conditions Conducive to More Engaged Relationships With Students?

Administrative approaches to produce more with ever-diminishing resources or as one of our colleagues intones, “doing more and better with less,” also hinder faculty–student out-of-class relationships (Rhoades, 2012a, 2012b). Given these resource constraints, one popular approach is to hire contingent faculty. Today, more than two thirds of higher education instructors are part-time, adjunct, contract, and/or graduate assistants (Rhoades, 2012a, 2012b). Although such instructors are often hired to perform duties associated with teaching (e.g., grading, advising; Brint, 2011), their work conditions (e.g., lack of offices on-campus) preclude extensive engagement with students (Harke, 2010a; Rhoades, 2012b). Admittedly, this may be less of a concern to management programs that are Association to Advance Collegiate Schools of Business (AACSB)–accredited as AACSB standards try to stem the dominant use of contingent faculty. At the time of this printing, however, fewer than 5% of the more than 13,000 business degree–granting programs worldwide have earned AACSB accreditation (AACSB International, 2016). Thus, this is a major concern at many institutions. In addition and at the same time, tenure-track faculty are increasingly expected to focus on entrepreneurship by securing external grants and patents and collaborating with industry (Natale & Doran, 2012). Larger class sizes also create a higher output-to-input ratio, but these too detract from the professor’s ability to establish the personal connections promised to students. These cost-cutting strategies also jeopardize the education of graduate students, thus undermining the system’s sustainability (Rhoades, 2012b).

In sum, faculty are constrained in their ability to engage in meaningful out-of-class relationships with students due to their lack of training in teaching/mentoring/advising, professional socialization toward discipline expertise, competing demands on the use of their talents, existing reward structures, and lack of resources.

Effects on Student Learning and Development

While we just spent time uncovering some assumptions through the eyes of students and faculty, let us visit some assumptions surrounding the core mission of learning and educating.

Do More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships Increase Academic Learning?

Although some research and scholars point to the positive academic effects of student–professor out-of-class relationships (Brownell & Swaner, 2010; Gallup, Inc., 2014; Kuh, 2008; Kuh et al., 2005; Rhoades, 2012a), other sources paint a less optimistic picture. To be sure, out-of-class student–faculty interaction is associated with students perceiving their schools emphasize congeniality and care (Kuh et al., 1991; Milem & Berger, 1997), but not scholarly activities or vocational competencies (Kuh & Hu, 2001). Likewise, out-of-class interaction has been shown to be negatively related to students’ intellectual development (Kuh & Hu, 2001) and to have only a slight impact on student grades (Anaya & Cole, 2001). Although active, experiential, and collaborative learning strategies have become more common over the past 15 years or so, there is little scientific, controlled, empirical research examining their effectiveness in improving learning outcomes (Stewart, Houghton, & Rogers, 2012). Management educators have offered many innovative and thoughtful classroom exercises and activities; however, they acknowledge their claims that (in)effectiveness is based on less systematic, more informal analyses or personal experience (e.g., Chavez, Ferris, & Gibson, 2011; Dehler & Welsh, 2014; Larson & Drexler, 2010; Lund Dean & Fornaciari, 2014; Schultz & Quinn, 2014; Stewart et al., 2012). In addition, this research tends to focus on and support increases in students’ satisfaction, liking, enjoyment, and perceptions of learning (e.g., see Chavez et al., 2011; Larson & Drexler, 2010; Schultz & Quinn, 2014). Within the realm of higher education as a whole, research indicates “high-impact” learning strategies fail to produce substantive or meaningful gains in analysis and synthesis skills, complex reasoning, or critical thinking (Arum & Roksa, 2011; Brint, 2011).

Does a Student-Centered Orientation Increase Learning and Student Development?

Until about 30 years ago, the dominant logic underpinning higher education was the unquestioned authority of the professor (Churchill, 1982). Management educators today tend to work in a different era, one characterized by a consumerist model (Alvesson, 2013; Franz, 1998; Lund Dean & Fornaciari, 2014; Ng & Forbes, 2009). The student-centered relational orientation of this model has led to a number of deleterious effects on student development. Helicopter parenting, the trophy culture, and universities’ reliance on student evaluations as the dominant means by which to assess the quality of teaching are the primary mechanisms by which this has occurred.

Helicopter parents play a critical role in their children’s delayed personal development (Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; White, 2005). Moreover, many of our current students were raised in a “trophy culture” in which they received praise for trying versus criticism for failing to meet goals (Marano, 2004). When these students’ instructors criticize their performance, they and their (helicopter) parents complain to faculty and administrators. Administrators preoccupied with retention and attainment implicitly or explicitly communicate their concerns to instructors, who then feel pressured to adjust their approach to teaching (Marano, 2004; Schuldt & Totten, 2008; Vinson, 2013). They are encouraged to frame critical comments in terms of praise and encouragement. Sadly, some faculty find themselves engaging in “helicopter teaching” as a result. They continuously remind students of deadlines, make themselves accessible at all times, and cater to requests for extensions and higher grades (Vinson, 2013). Many of these actions are counterproductive in reaching higher education’s penultimate goal of developing independent, critical thinking, knowledgeable adults (Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; Vinson, 2013; White, 2005).

Keep in mind, however, that faculty are often driven to take such an approach as student evaluations are the prevailing method used to judge instructors’ teaching and these evaluations figure prominently into tenure and promotion decisions (Rhoades, 2012a; Sugarman, 2005; Zaslow, 2007). The validity of this approach, by the way, is questionable as research shows these evaluations tend to assess student satisfaction with their grade as opposed to their learning (Clayson, Frost, & Sheffet, 2006). As a result, instructors are compelled to embrace a friendlier disposition with students, reduce course demands, and inflate grades to garner higher student ratings (Bergman, Westerman, & Daly, 2010; Brint, 2011; Franz, 1998; Rhoades, 2012a; Sugarman, 2005). Predictably, these strategies result in higher student evaluations but they also decrease student learning (Brint, 2011).

The effect of the student-centered approach, including its push for closer faculty–student interaction, is that students do not learn and grow from their mistakes (Lund Dean & Fornaciari, 2014; Marano, 2004; Natale & Doran, 2012; Zaslow, 2007). They do not stretch their capabilities nor move beyond their comfort zones. As management educators, we may be faced with the uncomfortable truth that our students are not acquiring the skills to become self-reliant adults responsible for the consequences of their own actions (Hunt, 2008; Marano, 2004; Vinson, 2013; White, 2005). And, to add insult to injury, we may be part of the problem; even when we have the best of intentions, we may be harming the very students we are charged to develop.

Relationship Risks

With the discussion of learning and development behind us, let us revisit the notion that managing personal relationships with students is relatively easy and devoid of friction.

Are There Liability Concerns Associated With More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships?

While the emphasis to engage in deeper, more caring personal relationships with students is heaved on faculty, the consequences for getting it wrong have never been higher. Take, for instance, the penetration of our litigious orientation within higher education. Under current interpretations of Title IX, student–faculty relationships that get too personal or too sexual can invoke fines, lawsuits, and a host of penalties under the auspices of providing equal treatment of the sexes (Kipnis, 2015). Recent exposés at schools, such as the University of Virginia, highlight the confusion surrounding not only the interpretation of such mandates but also the execution. As a result, many professors are hesitant to engage in more personal out-of-class relationships with students. To protect themselves, professors now leave their office doors open when meeting with students or withdraw altogether from personal interactions (Hopkins-Powell, 2002).

In addition to Title IX and sexual harassment claims, faculty are cognizant of the potential legal risks associated with advising students on personal issues such as drug or alcohol abuse, depression, sexual abuse, or relationship violence. Faculty are not trained in these areas and we contend it should not be expected to counsel students on these issues; they are the purview of the increasing proportion of student support staff. Nevertheless, and often at great risk, faculty are often encouraged to fulfill this very role. As an example, Fitzgerald, Weitzman, Gold, and Ormerod (1988) found that 76% of male faculty reported they were called on to provide personal counsel, guidance, and support to their students. As another example, take the groundswell of controversy surrounding trigger warnings. Trigger warnings are advanced warnings from faculty to students that upcoming material or discussion could be deemed controversial and could spark feelings of severe discomfort if not outright trauma (Schmidt, 2015; Wilson, 2015). As these student triggers get even more varied (Wilson, 2015), management educators must now assume duties beyond domain expertise. They must assess, often in real time, the sensitivity and psychological impact of topics and how that may jeopardize the faculty–student relationship. One could also argue that faculty are now forced into a foster or social services–type function that transcends, by leaps and bounds, their training and expertise. For instance, faculty are mandated by many states, such as Maryland, to report child abuse disclosed to them, even if the “child” is now a 60-year-old adult and the alleged abuser is now deceased. We do not mean this to be laughable, but professors have even been asked to move beyond social or psychological support arenas, to include other health care provisions. Take, for instance, the mandate that many faculty are also now charged with accommodating students’ disabilities and medical conditions. We offer a personal example.

About 15 years ago, as a new professor, one of us had a student with a seizure disorder who instructed us on how to react in the rare instance she had a seizure in class. As fate would have it, the student had a seizure in the lecture hall not a week later. We had to physically remove her from her desk and position her on the floor. We called the ambulance and dismissed the 50+ other students. Later, we were told by the disabilities office that calling an ambulance may not always be the best course of action, as students sometimes do not want to pay for the ambulance services. Here, the tensions that faculty face surface readily. To many, this would qualify as the proverbial “no brainer.” In quick order, we thought we were exhibiting care for the student by protecting her health, while simultaneously protecting ourselves and the university from legal risk given the litigious environment already chronicled. What would have happened if we had done nothing and the student was seriously injured or died? This example exposes some of the complexities and difficulties of closer, more caring faculty–student relationships in which faculty must embrace roles they are neither prepared, nor trained, for. In short, it is not easy.

Are There Risks Associated With Faculty–Student Friendships and Nonsexual Social Interactions?

Aside from the salacious label oft affixed to matters of sexuality, we suggest that even less intimate relationships pose risks that can affect the classroom environment, instructional design and delivery, and, ultimately, learning. Perhaps the most appropriate place to begin is with friendships, as many tend to think friendships are innocuous, if not beneficial, faculty–student relationships.

Friendship is, by its very nature, applied unevenly across individuals—we choose to befriend only a fraction of the people we meet throughout our lives. Likewise, and in the vein of leader–member exchange theory, professors have limited emotional resources and, therefore, distribute their affection and attention selectively among students. Management professors choose to befriend some students and not others. These friendships create an in-group that is perceived to enjoy preferential treatment (Chen, 2000; Horan, Chory, Carton, Miller, & Raposo, 2013). Student perceptions of fairness suffer and they seek to restore justice to the classroom “ecosystem” by engaging in hostility and revenge toward the professor (Horan et al., 2013). In other words, we challenge the very notion that caring, personal faculty–student relationships, even simple friendships, are benign, let alone good. Just the opposite, even friendships can carry risks.

Similarly, student-preferred out-of-class interaction with faculty, such as visiting professors in their homes for meals (Alderman, 2008), expose faculty members to other risks.

We have personally attended events hosted by faculty in their homes in which students and faculty eat, drink, and play together. Poker games and tag football are played, and swimming pools and hot tubs are enjoyed. Sometimes these parties are fun and harmless. Other times, they can spiral out of control and cause problems to which solutions are not readily available. Not surprisingly, the critical factor determining which course these events may take is the presence (and consumption) of alcohol. Occasionally, the social event centers on alcohol, as in the wine party hosted by a former colleague in which student attendees were to bring a bottle of wine to share with their classmates and professor. We stop the reader now to address what many may be thinking—“These are isolated incidents, cherry-picked for this essay, that, in reality, very rarely happen. What is the likelihood that faculty and students would become drinking buddies?” The answer is surprising. For instance, Tabachnick, Keith-Spiegel, and Pope (1991) found that over 85% of the almost 500 faculty members they surveyed reported accepting student party invitations. Clearly, these are not isolated incidents.

In the adult world, the presence and consumption of alcohol is an established norm. To be sure, holiday parties, conventions, happy hours, and social events in the professional world involve alcohol. Given the pressure on faculty to sometimes consider students as adults, for example, as customers (Franz, 1998), clients (Bailey, 2000), or employees (Gillespie & Parry, 2009), should we be surprised that alcohol is present in faculty–student interactions as well? Furthermore, many of us were socialized to the presence and responsible use of alcohol in academe through our own educational experiences such as networking at conference receptions or alumni events. But undergraduate students have not yet had that training and, as such, interjecting alcohol into the faculty–student relationship is fraught with danger.

Alcohol consumption reduces social distance between students and professors by disinhibiting impulses and increasing self-disclosure. It also incites riskier behavior (Steele & Southwick, 1985). Making matters worse, student sensemaking about alcohol consumption is still developing (Perkins, 2002). For instance, they view heavy drinking as an easy way to gain social acceptance (Marano, 2004). Students also tend to see events with alcohol consumption as opportunities to cultivate social relationships (Lannutti & Camero, 2007). Herein, lies the danger—when students and faculty drink alcohol together, misunderstandings and regrettable behavior may occur. And here is also where the irony emerges. As mentioned earlier, universities and colleges feel compelled to ask faculty to develop more personal relationships with their students. These relationships, if not actively managed, can easily involve alcohol. However, this is in direct conflict with new administrative efforts and policies to curb student drinking, which many top academic officials now believe is a major public health threat (Johnson, 2013; Walter, Paulo, & Polacek, 2002). Dissonance is stoked when students drink with their professors—the very employees of the university asking students not to drink. To us and probably to you, the prevailing sentiment is the confusion and ambiguity of roles. We can imagine the refrain of some faculty or an interaction between faculty and administration—you ask that I foster more personal relationships with my students and to treat them more like adults, but tell me what boundaries can and cannot be crossed?

Effects on Faculty

Does the Push for More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships Overburden Faculty?

Aside from the student relationship responsibilities being hoisted on them by administrators, parents, students, and advocacy groups, faculty are expected to be entrepreneurs, content experts, writers, researchers, teachers, tutors, advisors, and service volunteers to their universities, departments, disciplines, and local communities (Natale & Doran, 2012; Schuldt & Totten, 2008). In addition, and of course, they are expected to be accessible to students and responsive to their needs at all times (Schuldt & Totten, 2008). Some would contend that these burdens are made worse as resources decline and responsibilities increase. As a result, faculty morale is declining, stress is rising, and burnout is imminent (Natale & Doran, 2012; Schuldt & Totten, 2008; Sullivan, 2011). Given the weight of this myriad of increasing demands, can faculty appropriately and effectively manage more personal relationships with their students? The fragility of the faculty experience would suggest otherwise.

Does the Push for More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships Threaten Faculty’s Ability to Perform Their Primary Duties as Educators?

When demanding stakeholders urge faculty to adopt additional roles, such as friend, confidant, mentor, trusted advisor, and customer service provider, they imply that professors either abandon their Churchillian (1982) educator role and its attendant social distance or divide their time among multiple roles. Drawing on organizational behavior and role theory, we know this is fraught with danger. For instance, Kitchener (1988) argues that dual roles or relationships are incredibly problematic as these multiple roles (educator, friend, mentor, confidant, boss) either conflict or are outright incompatible. For example, in this very outlet, Franz (1998) argued that when management educators assume the role of entertainer or popular friend, they, by extension, sacrifice their capacity to coach, exact accountability, and promote student character development. Although some students and professors are able to effectively manage multiple-role relationships, many are not. Furthermore, empirical research demonstrates that students feel the most appropriate role for professors is academic/professional in nature (Chen, 2000; DiVerniero & Hosek, 2011; Holmes et al., 1999).

Does the Push for More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships Threaten the Occupational Prestige of the Professorate?

Another negative impact of the student-focused faculty orientation is its role in deprofessionalizing the professorate (Brint, 2011; Neumann, 2011; Sullivan, 2011). In the quest to improve teaching and increase faculty–student interaction, scholarly pursuits that have traditionally afforded faculty esteem and respect are seen as less important. For example, subject matter expertise, empirical research, and scholarly learning as core values and activities of the professorate are in jeopardy of being cast aside (Brint, 2011; Neumann, 2011; Rhoades, 2012a). Although some may argue this is a nonissue for business education as accrediting bodies, such as AACSB require a certain level of “high-quality intellectual contributions” (see Standard 2, AACSB International, 2013), only 5% of business schools are AACSB-accredited (AACSB International, 2016). Furthermore, AACSB does not precisely define what “high quality” means, leaving it up to the particular school to interpret this guideline. Moreover, even AACSB is pushing sustained, frequent faculty–student interaction (see Standard 10), student engagement, active learning, and experiential learning (see Standard 13), and policies and processes to improve teaching effectiveness (see Standard 12, AACSB International, 2013).

For better or worse, faculty no longer comprise an “academic priesthood in ethos and bearing” (Thelin, 2011, p. 341; see also Shils, 1982). The “student as consumer” metaphor and “the customer is always right” mentality have reduced professors to service providers seeking to satisfy the student-customer. Helicopter parents have insisted faculty act as surrogate parents. Advocacy groups (and administrators influenced by them) urge professors to care about students and encourage their dreams (Gallup, Inc., 2014). Furthermore, college recruitment efforts have cultivated student expectations of instructor accessibility and engagement (Klassen, 2000). This role redesign is shifting the professorate from a scholarly occupation to more of a helping profession (semiprofession; Etzioni, 1969) staffed by “managed professionals” (Brint, 2011) with limited autonomy (Sullivan, 2011). Helping professions, such as social work, nursing, and primary and secondary school teaching, historically tend to be held in less esteem and demand lower salaries, in part because they were jobs traditionally held by women (Martin, 2008). The prestige of the faculty role is at risk for decline (Shils, 1982; Sullivan, 2011; Thelin, 2011).

Does the Push for More Engaged Faculty–Student Relationships Threaten the Future of the Professorate?

As professors lose status, power, and their scholarly identity, the attractiveness of an academic career continues to decline (Hermanowicz, 2011; Rhoades, 2012b; Schuster, 2011). An overemphasis on student involvement at the expense of discovery and scholarship may drive talented, creative, intellectually curious people who otherwise would have entered the academy away from pursuing a career in higher education (Hermanowicz, 2011; Rhoades, 2012b; Schuster, 2011). The quality of future management educators will likely decline as the “best and brightest” direct their talents elsewhere. College professors will no longer be the most knowledgeable individuals on a subject (Schuster, 2011) and the scholarly work they produce will be of lower quality (Hermanowicz, 2011). There is already evidence of this trend (Brint, 2011). As faculty have increasingly embraced the “teacher” identity and its student-focused priorities, their scholarly aspirations and contributions have decreased (Brint, 2011). For example, results of the American College Faculty survey showed that interest in becoming an expert in one’s discipline dropped 10% between 1989 and 2004 among faculty at public doctoral-granting schools before increasing slightly in 2007 (DeAngelo et al., 2007). Perhaps this means even more for professional schools, such as business and management programs, where there is some expectation that quality research and scholarship will bridge the theory-to-practice divides. As previously discussed, AACSB requires “high-quality” scholarship, but again, most schools are not AACSB-accredited (AACSB International, 2016).

With the quality of research now under siege by other factors, meeting this expectation from practitioners may prove a difficult feat. Maybe, most important, as scholarship and the expertise of professors decline, so does student learning. As opposed to increasing the quality of the United States’ higher education system, the faculty-involved student-centered strategies being advocated today may instead precipitate its demise.

The Role of Management Educator—Expand or Limit?

Before we touch on some policy, strategic, and tactical prescriptions, we want to use the voice of this essay to spark debate, disagreement, and dialogue on, perhaps, the very issue that we have been begging—What, ultimately, is the role of management educator? And, if there are to be primary and secondary roles, which roles deserve sacred status?

Moving beyond this ethic of care to a more personal relational orientation with students, some thought leaders have recently asked the management education community to reconsider or reevaluate what it means to be a management educator. For instance, Brower (2013) proactively challenged our field to consider our profession a calling as opposed to just a job or occupation. What exactly does that entail? If we were to return to the Churchillian (1982) model, this notion may resemble some of the more monastic underpinnings of our profession (Schurr, 1982). Conceivably, it could mean more social distance, not less, exhibited by priests and friars—those in which a calling is also oft-used. Similarly and in contrast to our current trajectory, it could mean a less personal orientation and a focus on pursuing truth and knowledge (Churchill, 1982) and holding our students to high standards of critical reasoning and intellectual curiosity (Schurr, 1982). Without cynicism, we suggest that Brower’s (2013) and Churchill’s (1982) conceptualizations of the “professor as a calling” depart significantly from today’s customer service orientation that seems to be taking ever firmer root in management education.

Other occupations that many identify as callings are those of police officer, firefighter, and military officer. Offstein (2006) suggests that a hallmark of military officership, to include the educational and training realm, is that of role modeling and “setting the example” for others to follow. Again, this notion of calling assumes greater social distance and an emphasis on some concept or institution greater than that of the individual such as public safety or freedom. Perhaps the most pressing question to ask is whether one can easily and readily hold these conceptualizations of “calling” while simultaneously engaging in more personal or intimate relationships with students. Ironically and embracing the role of intellectual provocateurs, we believe that the professions mentioned above (police officer, firefighter, or military officer) demonstrate and deploy incredible reserves of caring. However, and quite ironically, they often exercise this caring by remaining less personal—not more personal. In other words, callings, such as priests or military officers, may actually evoke more caring by employing more social distance and a greater adherence to standards. By doing so, their charges, their followers, their soldiers, and, yes, their students become more self-reliant and are, thus, able to care more for themselves in a sustainable fashion. Said differently, we have come to a place in higher education, in general, and management education, in particular, where caring could equate to lower standards and lower social distance and an emphasis on the “professor-as-friend” as opposed to the “professor-as-caring-leader.” Could it be that to truly care means to actually be harder—not easier—on those we are charged to develop? In other words, could caring be expressed through “tough love?” Viewing management education in this fashion supposes that management faculty are not the friends of students, but they are, first and foremost, example setters and role models. Granted, some may argue that faculty being more accessible, understanding, and accommodating and forging personal relationships with students are also responding to a “calling” to serve and care for others. At the very least, considerably more dialogue, debate, and inquiry is needed as we negotiate what this notion of calling may entail. And, if this notion of a calling as opposed to a profession gains traction, purposeful and intentional scholarship should ask the tough question that we just touch on here—What exactly does that mean or what exactly does that look like?

Prescriptions and Guidelines

We know of one instance, several years ago, in which a first-generation college student was performing exceptionally well in class, but demonstrated manic-type mood swings. Demonstrating an ethic of care, the student’s professor simply asked him “‘if everything was okay.” They met for coffee twice. Cell phone numbers were exchanged. A Facebook friend request was sent by the student and accepted by the faculty member. On the third visit for coffee, the student disclosed that he was battling drug abuse. He started to text the faculty member seven or eight times a day. He performed at high levels, but became very informal toward the professor in class. Other students in the class became suspicious. The student started to ask for money and invited the professor to “grab drinks.” The professor had a difficult time managing this relationship. The department chair and the dean had to get involved.

As management educators, we know that the “people business” is never formulaic. There are no right answers to the following—Should a faculty member close his or her door when a student, an emotional student, needs to talk? Should a professor give a student a ride home from school? Should a management educator accept a LinkedIn request? How about a Facebook friend request? Should faculty members frequent bars and coffee shops where their students congregate? Is it appropriate to play sports, such as ultimate Frisbee or flag football, with our students? Is it advisable to have a drink with a student at a tailgate before a big game? Globally, what is harmless and what is harmful?

These are episodes and situations we regularly face. Although we stop short of putting forth hard-and-fast rules, we do offer some guidelines and general recommendations to help us all better navigate these emotionally, personally, and professionally complex interactions.

First, we recommend faculty adopt an orientation that could best be described as friendly versus becoming friends with students. We view “friendly” as a communication style, whereas a friendship is a more intimate, longer term relationship. Being friendly means demanding students refer to us using our titles and surnames but enacting an approachable and agreeable posture. When we personally reflected on our own most appropriate and enriching faculty relationships from our undergraduate through our doctoral training, we arrived at a shared maxim—the best experiences involved faculty who were engaged and friendly as opposed to our friends. We are not alone here, as mentioned previously, a large contingent of students want or desire some social distance between themselves and their professors (Chen, 2000; DiVerniero & Hosek, 2011; Holmes et al., 1999).

Second, and this may seem absurd in its simplicity, but in line with the principles of triple-loop learning (Argyris & Schön, 1996; Dufresne, 2004), we suggest talking about these issues. In other words, do not assume that other professors fail to struggle with the same issues, such as whether we should put our arms around a student who is crying about poor performance or a serious life event. Instead of solely focusing on operational issues during departmental meetings, we propose inviting some dialogue about these issues. Maybe keeping the discussion to 10 or 15 minutes, good lead-in questions could be—What does it mean to mentor students? Or should we allow our students to call us by our first names? What are the risks and ramifications of closing the door when meeting with students during office hours? Part of the sensemaking process is to raise awareness and bring some of our fears, traditions, and assumptions out in the open for inquiry, dialogue, and debate (Argyris & Schön, 1996; Dufresne, 2004). Department meetings may offer an appropriate context in which to explore some of these issues.

Third, we recommend faculty engage administrators. As mentioned above, many administrators are knowingly or inadvertently creating student expectations of these more personal relationships with faculty. To some of us, it may feel like a burden and, for many of us, it is not the reason we pursued careers in higher education in the first place. We suspect that administrators are not aware of the pressure, tensions, and conflict these new expectations create for faculty. They will never know, however, if we fail to share our concerns and fears with them. Most administrators were faculty once and are likely to be more sympathetic to this issue than we may expect. We believe building bridges between faculty and administrators will bear fruit.

Fourth, higher education in general, and management education in particular, may want to revisit their faculty-hiring processes. The dominant logic, to date, is to hire content experts who demonstrate adequacy in research. Only recently has teaching received more emphasis in the hiring process, with many universities now requesting a teaching demonstration during the interview. Role modeling professional behavior, character, and integrity should be another criterion in the hiring process, especially for management educators expected to develop more personal bonds with students. The U.S. Military Academy at West Point serves as a model of this approach (Offstein, 2006; Offstein & Dufresne, 2007). If faculty are expected to interact more closely with students, it seems only prudent we hire faculty who know, understand, and enforce appropriate relational boundaries. Hiring for character could help in this regard.

Fifth, we have argued that faculty may feel confused or conflicted given these expectations. Kram (1985) would suggest that mentoring could help new faculty adjust and strong mentors could deftly lead new faculty as they work through some of their concerns. Quite simply, we suggest a simple, but profound, alternative—Engage in formal and informal mentoring programs to help faculty in the adjustment process.

Finally, we should examine more closely both the training and the support services available to faculty. As previously discussed, most faculty received specialized doctoral training in their disciplines. Training in teaching, let alone in interpersonal communication or conflict management, is relatively rare. In this absence, we suggest colleges and universities fill the void. In many ways, not doing so appears dishonest. In one sense, university leadership is demanding and branding the necessity of close, personal interactions with students. But on the other hand, they are leaving faculty vulnerable if they provide no training to help them deliver on these expectations. Fortunately, we imagine that management scholars often self-select into the field because of their interest in people. However, a constant thread in our essay to this point is to avoid accepting assumptions on their face. Moreover, we all need periodic training to help us become self-aware to boundary issues. When does friendship bleed into confidant bleed into counselor or psychologist? Whether by design or by a lack of intent, we think we can all agree that faculty are stepping out of role when the intimacy evolves into issues relating to drug addiction, depression, or sexual abuse. We must learn to recognize when boundaries are crossed and, when they are, we must be able to identify the university services that are there to help.

Most of us, of course, want meaningful connections with those we are charged to teach. However, meaningful connections or faculty–student out-of-class engagement is different than becoming friends with our students, acting as their confidants, or picking up where their parents left off. The sensational headlines aside, our essay suggests there could be a dark side to these more intimate and personal interactions. At the very least, we need to, on occasions such as this, examine some of the core assumptions embedded in such an orientation. As we pointed out in the opening pages, we purposely take a strong position on this issue. We have felt this drive toward greater intimacy with students has gone on long enough without challenge. Our essay, then, is intended to shed light on some of the risks of pursuing more personal bonds with our students. While most may assume only beneficial outcomes can occur, we offer some reasoning and evidence that risk is, indeed, present when “you know your student as a person.” More important, this risk must be managed appropriately so as not to damage the professor, the educational institution, and, ultimately, the student.

Footnotes

Declaration of Conflicting Interests

The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

Funding

The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.

References

AACSB International. (2013). Eligibility procedures and accreditation standards for business accreditation: Engagement, innovation, impact. Retrieved from http://www.aacsb.edu/~/media/AACSB/Docs/Accreditation/Standards/2013-bus-standards-update.ashx

AACSB International. (2016). AACSB accreditation. BestBizSchools.com. Retrieved from http://bestbizschools.aacsb.edu/aacsb-accredited

Alderman

R. V.

(2008). Faculty and student out-of-classroom interaction: Student perceptions of quality of interaction (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). Texas A&M University, College Station, TX.

Alvesson

(2013). The triumph of emptiness: Consumption, higher education, & work organization. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press.

Anaya

Cole

D. G.

(2001). Latina/o student achievement: Exploring the influence of student-faculty interactions on college grades. Journal of College Student Development, 42, 3-14.

Argyris

Schön

D. A.

(1996). Organizational learning II: Theory, method and practice. Reading, MA: Addison-Wesley.

Arum

Roksa

(2011). Academically adrift: Limited learning on college campuses. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.

Astin

A. W.

(1993). What matters in college? San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

Austin

A. E.

(2011). The socialization of future faculty in a changing context: Traditions, challenges, and possibilities. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 145-167). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

10.

Bailey

J. J.

(2000). Students as clients in a professional/client relationship. Journal of Management Education, 24, 353-365.

11.

Bergman

J. Z.

Westerman

J. W.

Daly

J. P.

(2010). Narcissism in management education. Academy of Management Learning & Education, 9, 119-131.

12.

Brint

(2011). Focus on the classroom: Movements to reform college teaching, 1980-2008. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 44-91). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

13.

Brower

H. H.

(2013). From the editors: Professors as a calling. Academy of Management Learning & Education, 12, 537-539.

14.

Brownell

J. E.

Swaner

L. E.

(2010). Five high-impact practices: Research on learning outcomes, completion, and quality. Washington, DC: Association of American Colleges and Universities.

15.

Campos

P. F.

(2015, April 4). The real reason college tuition costs so much. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/05/opinion/sunday/the-real-reason-college-tuition-costs-so-much.html?_r=0

16.

Chavez

C. I.

Ferris

W. P.

Gibson

L. A.

(2011). Predicting values and beliefs: Learning that can last. Journal of Management Education, 35, 504-536.

17.

Chen

(2000). The impact of teacher-student relationships on college students’ learning: Exploring organizational cultures in the classroom. Qualitative Research Reports in Communication, 1, 76-83.

18.

Churchill

L. R.

(1982). The teaching of ethics and moral values in teaching: Some contemporary confusions. Journal of Higher Education, 53, 296-306.

19.

Clayson

D. E.

Frost

T. F.

Sheffet

M. J.

(2006). Grades and the student evaluation of instruction: A test of the reciprocity effect. Academy of Management Learning & Education, 5, 52-65.

20.

CollegeStats. (2012). 50 Creative ways colleges are recruiting students today. Retrieved from http://collegestats.org/2012/10/50-creative-ways-colleges-are-recruiting-students-today/

21.

Cutright

(2008). From helicopter parent to valued partner: Shaping the parental relationship for student success. New Directions for Higher Education, 144, 38-48.

22.

DeAngelo

Hurtado

Prior

J. H.

Nelly

K. R.

Santos

J. L.

Korn

W. S.

(2007). American college teacher: National norms for the 2007-2008 HERI Faculty Survey. Los Angeles, CA: Higher Education Research Institute.

23.

Dehler

G. E.

Welsh

M. A.

(2014). Against spoon-feeding. For learning. Reflections on students’ claims to knowledge. Journal of Management Education, 38, 875-893.

24.

Dickerson

(2007, January/February). Risk management and the Millennial generation. Campus Activities Programming, 12-16.

25.

Dickerson

(2008, November/December). The Millennial brain and risk. Campus Activities Programming, 10-14.

26.

DiVerniero

R. A.

Hosek

A. M.

(2011). Students’ perceptions and communicative management of instructors’ online self-disclosure. Communication Quarterly, 59, 428-449.

27.

Dufresne

R. L.

(2004). An action learning perspective on effective implementation of academic honor codes. Group & Organization Management, 29, 201-218.

28.

Etzioni

(1969). The semi-professions and their organization: Teachers, nurses, social workers. New York, NY: Free Press.

29.

Evenbeck

Johnson

K. E.

(2012). Students must not become victims of the completion agenda. Liberal Education, 98, 26-33.

30.

Fitzgerald

L. F.

Weitzman

L. M.

Gold

Ormerod

(1988). Academic harassment: Sex and denial in scholarly garb. Psychology of Women Quarterly, 12, 329-340.

31.

Franz

R. S.

(1998). Whatever you do, don’t treat your students like customers! Journal of Management Education, 22, 63-69.

32.

Gallup, Inc. (2014). Great jobs great lives: The 2014 Gallup-Purdue Index report. Washington, DC: Author. Retrieved from http://www.luminafoundation.org/files/resources/galluppurdueindex-report-2014.pdf

33.

Gillespie

T. L.

Parry

R. O.

(2009). Students as employees: Applying performance management principles in the management classroom. Journal of Management Education, 33, 553-576.

34.

Halbesleben

J. R.

(2009). Managing stress and preventing burnout in the healthcare workplace. Chicago, IL: Health Administration Press.

35.

Harke

(2010a, January 7). High school to college transition, Part two: Academic expectations. The Huffington Post. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-harke/high-school-to-college-tr_b_628726.html

36.

Harke

(2010b, June 22). High school to college transition, Part 1: The freshman myth. The Huffington Post. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/brian-harke/high-school-to-college-tr_b_620043.html

37.

Harvard University. (2015). Sexual and gender-based harassment policy and procedures for the Faculty of Arts and Sciences Harvard University. Retrieved from http://www.fas.harvard.edu/files/fas/files/sexual_and_gender-based_harassment_policy_and_procedures_for_the_fas_.pdf

38.

Hawk

Lyons

(2008). Please don’t give up on me: When faculty fail to care. Journal of Management Education, 32, 316-338.

39.

Hermanowicz

J. C.

(2011). Anomie in the American academic profession. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 216-237). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

40.

Holmes

D. L.

Rupert

P. A.

Ross

S. A.

Shapera

W. E.

(1999). Student perceptions of dual relationships between faculty and students. Ethics & Behavior, 9, 79-107.

41.

Hopkins-Powell

(2002, June 28). Opening ourselves to unconditional love in our relationships with students. The Chronicle of Higher Education, p. B5.

42.

Horan

S. M.

Chory

R. M.

Carton

S. T.

Miller

Raposo

P. C. J.

(2013). Testing leader-member exchange theory as a lens to understand students’ classroom justice perceptions and antisocial communication. Communication Quarterly, 61, 497-518.

43.

Humphreys

(2012). What’s wrong with the completion agenda—and what we can do about it. Liberal Education, 98, 8-17.

44.

Hunt

(2008). Make room for daddy . . . and mommy: Helicopter parents are here! Journal of Academic Administration in Higher Education, 4, 9-11.

45.

Johnson

(2013, August 30). Schools try new strategies to battle college drinking. The Washington Post Magazine. Retrieved from https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/magazine/schools-try-new-strategies-to-battle-college-drinking/2013/08/29/44919708-e011-11e2-b2d4-ea6d8f477a01_story.html

46.

Kipnis

(2015, February 27). Sexual paranoia strikes academe. The Chronicle of Higher Education. Retrieved from http://laurakipnis.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/Sexual-Paranoia-Strikes-Academe.pdf

47.

Kitchener

K. S.

(1988). Dual role relationships: What makes them so problematic? Journal of Counseling & Development, 67, 217-221.

48.

Klassen

M. L.

(2000). Lots of fun, not much work, and no hassles: Marketing images of higher education. Journal of Marketing for Higher Education, 10, 11-26.

49.

Kram

K. E.

(1985). Mentoring at work: Developmental relationships in organizational life. Glenview, IL: Scott Foresman.

50.

Kuh

G. D.

(2008). High-impact educational practices: What they are, who has access to them, and why they matter. Washington, DC: Association of American Colleges and Universities.

51.

Kuh

G. D.

(2001). The effects of student-faculty interaction in the 1990s. Review of Higher Education, 24, 309-332.

52.

Kuh

G. D.

Kinzie

Schuh

J. H.

Whitt

E. J.

(2005). Assessing conditions to enhance educational effectiveness: The inventory for student engagement and success. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

53.

Kuh

G. D.

Schuh

J. H.

Whitt

E. J.

Andreas

R. E.

Lyons

J. W.

Strange

C. C.

. . . MacKay

K. A.

(1991). Involving colleges: Successful approaches to fostering student learning and development outside the classroom. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.

54.

Lannutti

P. J.

Camero

M. O.

(2007). Women’s perceptions of flirtatious nonverbal behavior: The effects of alcohol consumption and physical attractiveness. Southern Communication Journal, 72, 21-35.

55.

Larson

Drexler

J. A.

(2010). Project management in real time: A service-learning project. Journal of Management Education, 34, 551-573.

56.

Lohr

S. C.

(2004). Student faculty connections: Grasping the essence of informal interaction (Unpublished doctoral dissertation). University of Southern California, Los Angeles, CA.

57.

Lund Dean

Fornaciari

C. J.

(2014). Creating masterpieces: How course structures and routines enable student performance. Journal of Management Education, 38, 10-42.

58.

Marano

H. E.

(2004, November 1). A nation of wimps. Psychology Today. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200411/nation-wimps

59.

Martin

J. L.

(2008). Shifting the load: Personality factors and women in the workplace. In Paludi

M. A.

(Ed.), The psychology of women at work: Volume 1: Challenges and solutions for our female workforce (pp. 153-200). Westport, CT: Praeger.

60.

Milem

J. F.

Berger

J. B.

(1997). A modified model of college student persistence: Exploring the relationship between Astin’s theory of involvement and Tinto’s theory of student departure. Journal of College Student Development, 38, 387-399.

61.

Morgan

(1986). Images of organization. Beverly Hills, CA: Sage.

62.

Natale

S. M.

Doran

(2012). Marketization of education: An ethical dilemma. Journal of Business Ethics, 105, 187-196.

63.

National Survey of Student Engagement. (2001). Our origins and potential. Retrieved from http://nsse.indiana.edu/html/origins.cfm

64.

Neumann

(2011). Scholarly learning and the academic profession in a time of change. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 191-215). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

65.

I. C. L.

Forbes

(2009). Education as service: The understanding of university experience through the service logic. Journal of Marketing for Higher Education, 19, 38-64.

66.

Offstein

E. H.

(2006). Stand your ground: Building honorable leaders the West Point way. Westport, CT: Praeger.

67.

Offstein

E. H.

Dufresne

R. L.

(2007). Building strong ethics and promoting positive character development: The influence of HRM at the United States Military Academy at West Point. Human Resource Management Journal, 46, 95-114.

68.

Olsen

Kuh

G. D.

Schilling

K. M.

Schilling

Connolly

M. R.

Simmons

Vesper

(1998, November). Great expectations: What first-year students say they will do and what they actually do. Paper presented at the annual meeting of the Association for the Study of Higher Education, Miami, FL.

69.

Perkins

H. W.

(2002). Social norms and the prevention of alcohol misuse in collegiate contexts. Journal of Studies on Alcohol and Drugs, 14, 164-172.

70.

Rhoades

(2012a). Faculty engagement to enhance student attainment (Prepared for National Commission on Higher Education Attainment). Retrieved from https://www.acenet.edu/news-room/Documents/Faculty-Engagement-to-Enhance-Student-Attainment–Rhoades.pdf

71.

Rhoades

(2012b). The incomplete completion agenda: Implications for academe and the academy. Liberal Education, 98, 18-25.

72.

Sax

L. J.

Bryant

A. N.

Harper

C. E.

(2005). The differential effects of student-faculty interaction on college outcomes for women and men. Journal of College Student Development, 46, 642-659.

73.

Schmidt

(2015, September 18). American U.’s Faculty Senate takes stand against trigger warnings. The Chronicle of Higher Education. Retrieved from http://chronicle.com/blogs/ticker/american-u-s-faculty-senate-takes-stand-against-trigger-warnings/104763

74.

Schuldt

B. A.

Totten

J. W.

(2008). 24/7 Technology, business faculty, and stress. Journal of Academic Administration in Higher Education, 4, 27-35.

75.

Schultz

P. L.

Quinn

A. S.

(2014). Lights, camera, action! Learning about management with student-produced video assignments. Journal of Management Education, 38, 234-258.

76.

Schurr

G. M.

(1982). Toward a code of ethics for academics. Journal of Higher Education, 53, 318-334.

77.

Schuster

J. H.

(2011). The professoriate’s perilous path. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 1-17). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

78.

Shils

(1982). The university: A backward glance. The American Scholar, 51, 163-179.

79.

Shoup

J. R.

Gonyea

Kuh

(2009, June). Helicopter parents: Examining the impact of highly involved parents on student engagement and educational outcomes. Paper presented at the Annual Forum of the Association for Institutional Research, Atlanta, GA.

80.

Steele

C. M.

Southwick

(1985). Alcohol and social behavior I: The psychology of drunken excess. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 48, 18-34.

81.

Stewart

A. C.

Houghton

S. M.

Rogers

P. R.

(2012). Instructional design, active learning, and student performance: Using a trading room to teach strategy. Journal of Management Education, 36, 753-776.

82.

Sugarman

S. D.

(2005). Conflicts of interest in the roles of the university professor. Theoretical Inquiries in Law, 6, 256-275.

83.

Sullivan

T. A.

(2011). Professional control in the complex university: Maintaining the faculty role. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 315-331). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

84.

Tabachnick

B. G.

Keith-Spiegel

Pope

K. S.

(1991). Ethics of teaching: Beliefs and behaviors of psychologists as educators. American Psychologist, 46, 506-515.

85.

Terenzini

P. T.

Pascarella

E. T.

Blimling

G. S.

(1999). Students’ out-of-class experiences and their influence on learning and cognitive development: A literature review. Journal of College Student Development, 40, 610-623.

86.

Thelin

J. R.

(2011). All that glittered was not gold: Rethinking American higher education’s golden age, 1945-1970. In Hermanowicz

J. C.

(Ed.), The American academic profession: Transformation in contemporary higher education (pp. 332-350). Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press.

87.

Vinson

K. E.

(2013). Hovering too close: The ramifications of helicopter parenting in higher education. Georgia State University Law Review, 29, 423-451.

88.

Walter

K. O.

Paulo

J. R.

Polacek

G. N.

(2002). Faculty perceptions of their roles in alcohol education/prevention. Journal of Drug Education, 43, 173-182.

89.

Wecker

(2012, September 17). 5 Guidelines for college student-professor interactions. U.S. News & World Report: Education. Retrieved from http://www.usnews.com/education/best-colleges/articles/2012/09/17/5-guidelines-for-college-student-professor-interactions

90.

White

W. S.

(2005, December 16). Students, parents, colleges: Drawing the lines. The Chronicle of Higher Education, 52(17), p. B16.

91.

Wilson

(September 14, 2015). Student requests for trigger warnings grow more varied. The Chronicle of Higher Education. Retrieved from http://chronicle.com/article/Students-Requests-for/233043/

92.

Young

W. W.

Jr. (2006). Parent expectations of collegiate teaching and caring. Open Access Theses and Dissertations from the College of Education and Human Sciences. University of Nebraska–Lincoln. Retrieved from http://digitalcommons.unl.edu/cehsdiss/6

93.

Zaslow

(2007, April 20). The most-praised generation goes to work. The Wall Street Journal. Retrieved from http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB117702894815776259