The Devil’s in the Details: The Usefulness (or otherwise) of University Strategic Plans

I once heard it stated that a strategic plan without implementation is hallucination. I tend to agree.

I’m not arguing against organizational strategy. I think it’s a good thing for universities especially to develop a clear and persuasive mission and vision. It’s also a good framework for housing core values and principles. But ultimately, it’s what you do with the plan that matters.

I was part of a working group that created an institution-wide strategic plan. Now that it’s alive in the world, I’m more critical of the process behind its development, intimately aware of where it inevitably falls short – and why. Which is to say that I’m more cautious and sceptical of its fundamental purpose. And, I admit, I share many of the concerns I’ve heard expressed by the wider university community about its effectiveness and overall reception.

There’s a reason why people think strategic plans serve little purpose.

Most people don’t seem to care about their existence. They can’t recite the plan’s main tenets. They certainly don’t feel a need to align their teaching, research, or service with the framing pillars. Notwithstanding the fact that the plan’s language frequently finds its way into various communications and speeches, it’s not being heard – truly heard and understood. Or if it is, the message isn’t being absorbed and put into concrete practice.

People also fail to see themselves in the plan. Like it’s some sort of mirror whose primary purpose is to reflect the faculty’s individual interests. While great efforts are made through communications and consultation to capture and include as many voices as possible in the creation process, the reality is often a much smaller community sample.

In a way, a new strategic plan captures only a portion of the engaged university population, like a window onto the thoughts and meanings of those who invested in its creation by exercising their democratic voice. The sample-size is usually too small to be fairly representative.

As a consequence, one might argue that it’s a failure. Dead in the water. A hollow shell. Lacking in substance and value.

And that argument might not be wrong.

It’s a curious paradox. Leaders need to drive the institution forward, and having a concrete plan informs strategy. But a strategic plan in and of itself carries little weight without a firm understanding and demonstration of intention. It needs to be tied to action, values, and principles. And I think this is where we went wrong at my own organization; we designed a plan with the best of intentions, which doesn’t guarantee impact in the short term. While it captures the ethos of the institution, and speaks its own truth in terms of capturing community concerns and aspirations, it still falls short in critical areas. Like faculty and community buy-in. Like clear direction. Like implementation.

Plans should be aspirational. Their language should be deliberately active, setting the tone for what must be done. Goals need to underscore the vision – concrete, meaningful, measurable, and realistic objectives. People are the drivers of change, which means that individuals, offices, units, programs, etc., must be assigned a role in advancing the overall plan.

‘Buy-in’ is a curious expression and expectation. We understand its significance but don’t put enough forethought into precisely ‘how’ and ‘why’ people should be motivated to care and, in turn, implement the strategy. By nature of its construction, our strategic plan was workshopped and shaped by a steering committee whose members were assembled with an eye to diversity and representative fairness. Despite the consultant-supported, community-facing engagement sessions, however, I don’t think we fairly captured the broader consensus. Wanting and expecting people to engage in, and contribute to, this democratic process was a big ask. And while various opportunities were provided, the uptake was patchy.

At worst, the outcome is a glossy brochure and attractive webpage. At its best, an effective strategic plan could and should be the institution’s North Star, serving as a clear guiding post and pathway, providing rudders for the decision-making process, an accountability framework within which all members of the organization can see themselves aligned.

I haven’t completely lost faith in our strategic plan. I believe that it’s both useful and necessary. Especially as its tenets cascade into academic and research planning, which is ultimately what keeps the machine of higher education moving forward. But in truth, it will require a healthy dose of community and institutional awareness to be effective.