3 Reasons Your Higher Ed Institution Needs a Teach-Out Plan
Like most people who were weird-ish kids in the 1990s, I went through a phase of being obsessed with the Titanic. I lay the blame squarely on National Geographic, Robert Ballard, and Kate Winslet, but no matter whose fault it is, I (and many others) have come to view the Titanic as the ultimate metaphor for preventable tragedy. I could (and have—truly, I’ve said it before, I am the worst dinner party guest) talk about the topic for hours, but instead of rattling off unsettling facts (like, that it was a moonless night, or that the ocean water was 28 degrees Fahrenheit), I’m going to use it to talk about another uncomfortable, although less macabre, topic: teach-out plans.
Teach-out plans can be disquieting because they require a team to look at their beloved, perfect, painstakingly built little institution and imagine what it would look like if it completely failed. Much like reviewing your will before having a baby, or hanging lifeboats on the side of a luxurious ocean liner before its inaugural voyage, dealing with a teach-out plan confirms our worst fears to us—that something can and might go wrong. But, as anyone who’s ever needed a lifeboat will tell you, just because it’s uncomfortable doesn’t mean you should skip it.
All institutions approach teach-out plans differently, depending on their mission, history, and general worldview. Whether you’re writing a teach-out plan because it’s the Right Thing To Do™ or because your accrediting agency or Board is making you do it, we’re here to help motivate you. After all, when a situation arises that requires a lifeboat, most people don’t care how it got there.
3 Reasons You Need a Thoughtful Teach-Out Plan
It actually is the Right Thing To Do™.
Teach-out plans are the ultimate consumer protection, whereby your institution says, “we’re so committed to our students reaching their goals, we will set aside money and resources for them, even if the institution is unable to continue sustainable operations.” Or, to continue our metaphor, it’s making sure there are lifeboats. If you are Captain of a ship, you get to make a lot of choices (I mean, I assume, no one has ever entrusted a ship to me for some reason)—but I think we can all agree that a choice which puts passengers in danger is probably not a great one. Your students are trusting your boat to help them reach their dreams, and if it doesn’t, they’re trusting you at the very least to not let them drown in icy water. Do the right thing. If your mission even hints at the wellbeing of students, and it should (see our Mission Possible series), a teach-out plan is a noble, valuable way for your institution to put your literal money where your mouth is.
Put in the work NOW so you’re not rushing to catch up later.
There is a popular saying that goes, “the best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second-best time is now.” Admittedly, I am neither a ship captain nor an arborist, but I would imagine that one of the worst times to try and plant a tree would be while on board a 900 ft ocean liner steadily sinking into the icy North Atlantic. There’s panic, non-celebratory fireworks, and, you know, impending doom. This same principle applies to teach-out plans. If the worst happens, and your institution must close, you’re going to have a lot of things going on at once. Sure, you could try to wing it and slap-dash together a plan, but wouldn’t it be better if you could reach into your water-resistant filing cabinet and retrieve a clear, well-designed set of steps that your past self thoughtfully laid out for this precise situation? Wouldn’t it be great to calmly, if sadly, tell people that you have lifeboats ready, and though the ship is going down, they don’t have to face a watery grave?
Protect Your Institution’s Legacy.
When you say the word, “Titanic,” people don’t think about the heated indoor pool, the 5-star dining, or any of the many other amenities the ship offered its passengers. When people hear “Titanic,” they think about thousands of lives cut short in a haunting tragedy. They think about the hubris that went into forgoing additional lifeboats on an “unsinkable” ship. That is the legacy that has lasted for 110 years. Despite our best efforts, none of us can control the future, but the actions we take now can and will impact our legacy. If your institution closed tomorrow, what would its legacy be? Would you have nobly ferried your students to safety, or would you have abandoned them to tread water?
