What would you do if you were the President of Yale? What would you hope for? What do you find great about Yale; what needs to be preserved, even nourished? What is lacking, what is being lost? Where is Yale going, and is that where you would wish it to go?

Heady, provocative questions, these. Surely they must be front of mind for those charged with choosing the Yale President. For it is the Yale President that sets Yale’s tone and sets Yale’s direction; who formulates, articulates and effectuates Yale’s vision.

Or so we thought.

Yale’s history is filled with grand pronouncements from its Presidents that echo across the generations. Kingman Brewster, in 1967, wrote a missive detailing the qualities Yale valued and sought; it largely remains policy today. Bart Giamatti waxed eloquent frequently, saying, for example, “Universities are not here to be mediums for the coercion of other people, they’re here to be mediums for the free exchange of ideas,” and “It is not enough to offer a smorgasbord of courses. We must ensure that students are not just eating at one end of the table.”  

Even those Presidents not given to soaring oratory recognized the importance of the President’s role in setting forth a vision; Peter Salovey frequently was moved to deny, in strong terms, the accusation that he had not done so. 

One can debate how much power the Yale President should ideally have, but to us, it feels right that the President steers the ship of Yale. This is quite apart from questions of institutional neutrality which are on the minds of many, ourselves included — and which we plan to write on. This is not about Yale speaking on every subject in one voice; it is about what kind of place Yale is and should be.

But judging from recent reporting in the News, there is at least one institution at Yale that does not see 43 Hillhouse Avenue as the caretaker of Yale’s traditions and its future. President McInnis has stated that not only does she not have a “unique academic vision” for Yale, but when she was a candidate for the Presidency, the Yale Corporation — called “the board” by McInnis — did “not really” ask her for her vision. Instead, they made “very clear” that anyone selected to the Presidency had to implement the priorities of the board, namely a pre-existing “science and engineering strategy.” She might, she said, “get around to defining a vision” eventually, but she would not “in any way change those priorities.”

Commendably, President McInnis has announced that she is engaging in a “listening tour” in these early moments of her Presidency. We ourselves are grateful to have been included in this process, having met with her in July soon after she began her work in New Haven. We await with keen interest her future discussion of her vision for Yale.

But we are deeply concerned by the clear implication that the Yale Corporation is not particularly interested in her vision, or anyone else’s, for that matter — students, alums, professors. If  Corporation members thought it important, if they perceived that her visionary plans would reflect the future reality of her tenure, then surely they would have asked about it in the selection process. If she were to articulate a sweeping, soaring view of Yale, filled with new ideas, inspiration and promise, would they support her? How could we think that they would, given that they expressed not the smallest curiosity about it?  

Some might wonder why President McInnis did not feel the need to have at least a preliminary sense of where she wanted to head, of what she hoped to accomplish and to express it to the Board so she would at least have a sense that they would be by her side as she pursued it. We can understand why she might want to test and refine her vision through the many brilliant people she will encounter on her listening tour before presenting a fully realized plan to the Yale community. Having met her, we are inclined to interpret her current reluctance to articulate her vision in this light. However, her statements regarding the interview process do not allow for a similar ambiguity regarding the Corporation.

We must add to the mix the fact that President McInnis was a trustee of the Yale Corporation herself at the time of her selection. One cannot escape the conclusion that the Yale Corporation is not interested in McInnis’ vision because they see themselves as the priority setters and even the priority implementers. The Board may not see themselves as there to support the President, but rather, the other way around.

Now the questions ask themselves. Who are these people? What is their accountability and to whom? What priorities do they seek to bring to reality? By what mechanism are said priorities the result of appropriate input from the proper long-term caretakers of Yale? Is this the proper function of the Yale Corporation? What do they bring to this role? How are they chosen? What is their legitimacy?

Tellingly, we hear almost nothing from this shadowy institution. The minutes of the Yale Corporation are famously kept secret for 50 years. One cannot easily arrange to appear before the Corporation. Its members do not make themselves routinely available — and thus accountable — at alumni or faculty gatherings. They do come to campus for Corporation meetings. But a quick and admittedly unscientific survey that Akhil has conducted suggests that many if not most of Yale’s leading and longstanding professors have never even seen these mysterious guardians. Few notable scholars are members of this body. Most are managers and money-people. The mechanism by which members are chosen is nothing short of scandalous, as Andy has written on previously.

They make no public statements. The exception that proved that rule took place in 2021, when they issued a letter announcing that they had, without warning, notice or input, eliminated the one form of openness that remained: the option of alumni to nominate a candidate to the Board by petition. Then-President Salovey was apparently so scandalized by this action that he did not affix his name or voice to it, despite a long-standing tradition that the President announce Board actions.

The upshot is that Yale Presidents have long been available for interview, legible through their public statements, acknowledged as public figures and in all the important respects, have been members of — and answerable to — the Yale community. Giamatti again: “You’re going to hear in stereo what was wrong with what you did.” 

This “vision thing,” to borrow a phrase from George H.W. Bush ’48, however, is ominous. There is a danger here that an unchecked, unaccountable, unrepresentative Board with a history of irresponsible and self-entrenching behavior might distance Yale even further from its faculty, its students and its alumni — in short, from the real Yale.

To counteract this ominous prospect, tangible leadership is needed. To that end, we have a suggestion: support and empower our new President. And to her, we say: President McInnis, we encourage you to take the reins. Conceive of a better Yale. Tell us your best ideas. Think big. If those ideas resonate in the open air, we can travel there together, illuminated by lux and veritas.

AKHIL REED AMAR is a Sterling Professor of Law and Political Science. Professor Amar graduated from Yale College in 1980, and from Yale Law School in 1984. Contact him at akhil.amar@yale.edu. 

ANDREW LIPKA is the President of EverScholar, a nonprofit that conducts immersive learning programs, originally for Yale alumni, and now for all. Dr. Lipka graduated from Yale College in 1978, and from the Albert Einstein College of Medicine in 1982. He is a fellow of Jonathan Edwards College. Contact him at andrew.lipka@gmail.com. 

Akhil and Andy co-host the weekly podcast, Amarica’s Constitution. Their column,“Yale Friends for Life,” runs frequently and discusses all things Yale — its successes, shortcomings, and mission — from the perspective of two alumni who love our small college.