IIMA logo controversy-I : symptom of a deeper malaise

IIMA announced a change in its over sixty-year logo recently. The director had told the faculty that the board had approved two logos, one that retained the original Sanskrit quote and another that did not retain it (and was intended for an international audience).

Faculty protested against the changes that had been made without consulting them. Here is one of the many media stories on the subject. The Institute then came out with an announcement. Here is a part of it:

The proposed logo continues the legacy of the original logo, retains the status line in Sanskrit (VidyaViniyogadVikasa) as in the original, the colour rendition has been improved, the fonts modernized, the 'jaali' inspired brand mark has been made more amenable to communication in digital media, and the brand name made more distinct. The proposed logo is to be released in June of this year after the annual vacation.

But the controversy has not died down. Current and retired faculty and alumni have mounted a campaign against any change in the logo. Some point out that leading universities in the world have retained their logos for centuries.

Like many of my colleagues, I find the new logos distasteful. But that's not the point. The point is that faculty are miffed over the fact that they were not consulted.

Those who know about IIMA would know that it what conceived as a 'faculty-governed' institution, that is, key decisions would be taken by the faculty. Legally, all powers vest with the board. The board delegates powers to the director. Successive directors have chosen to be guided by the faculty, in effect, sharing powers with faculty. This beautiful construct was the work of Vikram Sarabhai, the scientist, and Ravi Matthai, the first full-time director of IIMA. 

The idea that something as important as a change in the Institute logo can happen without any faculty input is revolting to anybody associated with IIMA.

The erosion in faculty governance is not sudden, it has happened over time and over the tenures of several directors. To me, a turning point was the fee increase of over 150 per cent in 2008. Faculty were told about the increase via email on Convocation day after the increase had been approved by the board. Some of us who had not checked our email got to know from the newspapers the next morning! No explanation was given for the stupendous increase in fee.

There is an interesting post-script to that episode. After the fee was announced to the public, it came up for 'approval' at a subsequent faculty meeting. Somebody asked what was there to approved since the board had already taken a decision on the matter and announced it to the world. One of the lackeys of the director chimed in to say that the approval sought was not for the fee itself but the components thereof- how much for the academic programme, how much for the hostel, mess, etc! So much for faculty governance.

Over time, the lack of consultation has extended to various matters. Centres have sprung up without faculty approval or discussion. Important appointments have happened in arbitrary ways. IIMA has, for years, followed the 'Nominations' process for appointments to administrative positions, such as Dean. The director would invite nominations from faculty. The idea was that the leadership would emerge from within instead of being imposed from above.

I have no idea how well it worked in the initial years. What I do know that, in recent years, it has been  nothing but a fraud perpetrated on faculty by successive directors. Faculty put in their nominations and the director sticks to his pre-meditated choices. In some cases, we came to know that the director had sounded out individuals for positions even before nominations were sought.

On one occasion, the director appointed a contemporary of his from IIMA at Visting Faculty for one year. A year later, the concerned area found the individual unsuitable for a permanent position. The Director then gave him a five year appointment as VF and proceeded to elevate him to the post of Dean (alumni), a  post just one rung below the Director. Evidently, none of the permanent and senior faculty qualified for the position.

There are three Deans at IIMA. Prior to the IIM Act, one of the Deans was eligible to officiate as Director when the incumbent stepped down and until a new director was appointed. So we could, in principle, have had someone who did not qualify or a permanent position presiding over the faculty of the Institute in his capacity as Officiating or Acting Director!

There is also a complete absence of norms for other appointments such as membership of the Faculty Development and Evaluation Committee and faculty membership of the Board of Governors. Earlier, many of these positions went by seniority- you had to be a full professor and one of the senior-most faculty would be chosen. All that has fallen by the wayside. Directors have made these appointments according to their whims and fancies.

The current turmoil at IIMA thus has deep roots. The logo issue is a symptom of a deeper malaise, the steady erosion of faculty governance and the shift in decision-making from the faculty to the board (in effect, the director). 

The sad part is that things have become worse after the IIM Act that has conferred greater autonomy on the IIMs. I will post separately on that subject. 

I return to IIMC

I was over at IIMC for a conference a couple of days ago. I was returning to the campus long years after I had graduated. It was, as you might expect, an emotional moment, if not exactly in the same league as General Douglas McArthur's triumphant return to the Philippines in World War II.

Kolkata has changed although not as much as you would have thought. The airport is thoroughly modern and pleasing. From the airport to Joka (where IIMC is located), there is now a road that bypasses the city initially and  joins at Park Street. The  ride for the first thirty minutes or so via Rajarhat is exhilarating. It's a two-lane road dotted with greenery on the divider and a pleasing mix of empty spaces and buildings on both sides. There are the exquisite buildings one would associate with the IT sector and even a Finance Centre along the route. Open spaces are making way for mutli-storied apartment complexes. Hmmm, you tell yourself, Kolkata has changed for the better.

Park Street pulls you up short. The buildings and eating joints, rickety and worn, might belong to the time I spent in the city as a student. Alipore, the locality of the old aristocracy, retains its majesty with plenty of greenery, imposing mansions and the National Library. Further down at Behala, you return to the past. There are more buildings and the odd attractive one but the locality as a whole remains as rundown as it used to be. Next come Behala Chowrasta, Shakar Bazar and Thakurpukur. Again, the years seem to have largely passed them by. I pass buses with see people hanging to the straps. I recall my days on these crowded buses (mostly, 12 C) but, in those days, one thought it fun.

Finally, the IIMC campus. Near the main entrance is an unsettling sight, an open sewer on either side of the pathway leading into the campus. I experience a thrill as I cross the arched entrance with the Institute's name inscribed on it. Once you enter the campus, the transformation is real and substantial. In my student days, you had  a set of four hostels separated from the main building by a lake, barracks that served as a library and a some staff quarters in the distance. Otherwise, the entire campus was open and wild.

Now, you are first greeted by an executive complex called Tata Hall. Then comes our set of hostels, now called Ramanujam Hostel. H1 and H2 are entirely for girls (in our time, it was just the top floor of H1). Further on, more hostels (including a Tagore Hall) and a cafeteria. You keep going past wild shrubbery and then you begin to see the real development. A whole set of spanking new hostels and another executive complex (where I stayed), all overlooking the lake. The executive building is still under construction and the mess is yet to come up.

I check in and head for Tata Hall for lunch. Then, I make my way to the main building via the narrow road that skirts the lake. The lake itself is ringed by trees now, which is a pleasing sight but you no longer have an unobstructed view of the lake. I cross an imposing white-coloured building, the new library building and am soon face to face with a multi-storied building. Our 'main building' is no longer that. Classes are held in the new building, which also has faculty rooms.

I search for our 'main building'. I have difficulty in getting my bearings. On the road from the hostel, you turned right, as I recall. I think I have located the 'main building' of our time- it's now called L1, L2, L3 (somebody please correct me if I got it wrong). There is also a Computer Science Center. Behind the office buildings are a complex for the PGP Executive programme and faculty and staff housing quarters. I feel  a surge of pride. Unlike much of the city I just passed through, IIMC shows visible and substantial change.

After the conference, I retrace my steps. Tata Hall is not up to scratch. It's run down, the dining room is dingy and depressing, there are signs of peeling plaster, the building is standard PWD stuff, not something one associates with a top business school. The food was mediocre (and I say this as somebody who is hardly a foodie).

One thing is striking. The employees look emaciated and are poorly dressed. They are helpful, almost eager to please. Suffering is writ large on their faces. That is the impression I carried away from my student days. I'm distressed that this too has not changed. How come? Are these contract employees who are under-paid? They should do a lot better on current government pay scales.

I head for my old hostel. It's exactly as it was. The low entrance, the hostel office to the left, the dining room right ahead, the common room to the right. There are a couple of changes. To the left as you enter is a table with a watchman sitting behind it. The common room has shrunk and has only the table-tennis and billiards tables. The sofas with papers and magazines- they don't seem to be around. At the mess itself, time has stood still. Two rows of tables, about 14 or so in all. The cafeteria outside, run in the old days by the reliable Keshavan, has changed but very slightly. More beverages than before. I ask for a bottle of rose milk. "Shaab, change ho ga?". I cough up most of the coins I have.

I wind my way through the corridors to H-4. I climb up the staircase (I recall I used to scamper up and down at least half a dozen times every day, now it's a measured tread). At the landing of H-4, I turn left and head towards the end. Ah,there's my room. It used to be 207, now it's labelled 309.

I lean against the railing and survey the floor. Right ahead to the right were Mohan Krishnan and Talwar. At the landing itself, Sanjiv Vaidya. At the opposite end was H K Patel. I let the memories surge for a while, take a few snaps and head for the staircase. Almost reflexively, I look straight ahead at the top floor of H1, where the girls had their rooms. Sure enough, a young thing in shorts steps out. She sees me and seems faintly startled. Clearly, an unfamiliar face.

I introduce myself to the watchman. He, in turn, introduces me to a fresh entrant, a boy from IIT Chennai. The PGP-I batch has just started coming in. Several vehicles drive up unloading their passengers. Even the boys seem to be accompanied by one or both parents. I guess that was a luxury in our time.

I park myself in the seating space around a tree outside the hostel and take in the buildings slowly. I recall the innumerable hours had we spent there. Stepping out with a cup of tea was almost mandatory after breakfast and at tea-time. After dinner, there was the post-prandial walk, followed by a session in those seating places. Boy, am I glad I went to IIMC, which gave you the time and the space for these indulgences. At IIMA, life in the first year is a grim struggle for survival. After the torture I went through at IIT Bombay, that's the thing I liked most about IIMC: it was a place for gentlemen. They didn't believe in silly things like compulsory attendance.

I allow the memories to float by and feel a sharp pang. There was a lightness to living then, which is the quality of youth itself. As time goes by, life begins to seem more and more of a burden with endless chores, rigid time-tables and nameless worries. I leave, heavy at heart.

Wall Street Journal book review

The Wall Street Journal has just carried a review of my book on Ravi Matthai-IIMA.

IIM Indore five year programme

IIM-I's five year programme in management has drawn a response from the AICTE. The regulator believes that IIM-I can't offer a degree at the end of the third year, as promised, because it does not have the power to grant degrees. IIM I has clarified that it will grant a diploma as all the IIMs do with their post-graduate programme. (The IIMs are not covered by any Act of parliament, unlike the IITs, and hence do not have the power to grant degrees).

IIM-I's 3+2 offering (undergrad courses plus MBA), after the 12th standard, will be watched with interest. It is the first ever attempt by an IIM to move into the undergrad space. It also offers students an entry into the MBA programme without facing the huge odds of CAT. The undergrad courses will cover, not just business management, but several elements of liberal arts, history, literature etc, as also IT.

There has long been talk, endorsed by the Yash Pal committee, of the IIMs becoming full-fledged universities. The issue has been one of scale as well as scope. If IIM-I can show that it can deliver quality in a broad-based undergrad programme, it will be a feather in its cap and it could be the forerunner of similar programmes from others, including the IIMs.

Bonus for IIT faculty

IIT and IIM faculty have been asking for more...... well, not quite like poor Oliver. IIT faculty have planned a hunger strike for September 24. Indian Express reports that IIT directors are seeking to head off the crisis by offering a performance-linked bonus:

Directors of the Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) are fine-tuning a Performance Related Incentive Scheme (PRIS) which they are expected to place on the table later this week to defuse the stand-off with protesting faculty across all seven IITs.

Under this, an incentive equivalent to “two to four months of salary” could be offered annually to faculty depending on their performance which will be quantified on key indicators.

This is a terrible idea. There is a sufficiently large literature on incentives that casts doubt on the efficacy of these even in a corporate context. In academics, such schemes can play havoc with the very culture of academia.

Leave aside the measurement aspect. You produce high quality work in academics because you are driven by intellectual curiosity- not because you hope to get two months' bonus. Pecuniary rewards can come in other, more satisfying ways- sponsored reserach, consultancy, high value awards for outstanding work, royalty on books, patents, etc.

How many great academic institutions in the world have performance-linked bonuses? Top academic institutions have variable increments that are linked to performance. Your base salary itself can move up sharply based on work done- and that translates into extra pay over the rest of your career. There is nothing like extra pay for a given year- which is what bonuses are about.

The Sixth Pay Commission had suggested the cautious introduction of performance-linked incentives in government. The suggestion has not taken off because of the difficulty in implemting such schemes in government. Why should government make an exception in the case of government-run academic institutions?

I am surprised that IIT directors should have thought up such a scheme.