The Question Nobody Answered: When Managers Can’t Deliver Bad News

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We’ve written before about poor communication in the hiring process, about building trust through two-way organizational communication, and about the hidden costs of dismissive communication. Each of those posts circled a related but distinct problem. This one goes to the heart of it: what happens when a staff member asks a direct question, one that would resolve real uncertainty, and the manager simply will not answer it.

Not “won’t answer it clearly.” Won’t answer it at all.

The Question That Hangs in the Air

Picture the scene. A project has stalled. A promised promotion hasn’t materialized. A reorganization is clearly coming, but no one has said so. A staff member, tired of guessing, finally asks the manager directly: “Is this project being canceled?” “Am I getting that raise?” “Is my position being eliminated?”

The honest answer might be difficult. It might be “yes.” It might be “not yet, and I don’t know when.” But it is knowable, and the manager knows it. Instead of answering, the manager changes the subject, offers a vague reassurance, promises to “circle back,” or simply goes quiet. The staff member leaves the conversation with the exact same uncertainty they walked in with, except now they also know that asking directly doesn’t work either.

This is a different failure than the silence I described in the hiring context, and different again from the condescension I wrote about in dismissive communication. This is a manager who has been handed the one thing that would resolve the problem, a direct question, and has chosen (or felt unable) to answer it honestly.

Why Managers Avoid the Answer

Most managers who dodge these questions are not cruel. They are, more often, afraid. Afraid of the reaction. Afraid of being blamed for a decision they didn’t make, or afraid of owning one they did. Afraid that saying the hard thing out loud makes it more real, more permanent, more theirs to answer for. Some hope the situation will resolve itself before they have to say anything. Some were simply never taught how to deliver bad news and freeze when the moment arrives.

None of this makes the avoidance acceptable. But it is worth naming honestly, because managers who understand why they’re avoiding the conversation are in a much better position to stop avoiding it.

The Trust Cost of Silence

When a manager dodges a direct question, the staff member doesn’t conclude “my manager is protecting me.” They conclude one of two things, and both are corrosive.

The first is that the manager is being dishonest and deliberately withholding information. The second, often worse, is that the manager doesn’t actually know the answer, or lacks the authority or competence to get one. Either conclusion damages trust. And unlike a single instance of bad news delivered badly, this pattern tends to compound. Every dodged question becomes evidence for the next one. Eventually, staff stops asking directly at all, not because the question resolved itself, but because they’ve learned the manager cannot be relied upon to answer it. That is a much harder trust deficit to repair than the discomfort of one honest conversation would have been.

It Comes with the Territory

Delivering bad news is never easy. It wasn’t easy for me, and I doubt it is easy for anyone who takes their responsibility to their staff seriously. But that discomfort comes with the job. Managing people means, eventually, telling someone something they don’t want to hear: that the position was eliminated, that the answer is no, that the timeline slipped, that the project failed. Avoiding that responsibility doesn’t make the manager kind. It makes the manager unavailable at the exact moment their staff needed them most.

It is also, simply, human. Nobody enjoys watching someone’s face fall. Nobody wants to be the reason a colleague has a hard day. That instinct to avoid inflicting pain is not a character flaw; it’s part of being a decent person. The failure isn’t in feeling that reluctance. The failure lies in letting reluctance win, especially when a direct question has already been asked, and an honest answer is sitting right there.

What Better Looks Like

None of this means bad news needs to be delivered badly. A few practices can help managers meet the moment rather than avoid it.

Answer the question that was actually asked. If someone asks “Is my position being eliminated?” answer that question, not an adjacent one. Redirecting to a related but easier topic is still avoidance, just better disguised.

Prepare before the conversation happens. If a difficult question is foreseeable, and most are, think through what you will say before you’re asked. Managers who improvise bad news in the moment tend to soften it into meaninglessness or blurt it out clumsily. A few minutes of preparation prevents both.

Lead with the headline. Don’t bury the answer under ten minutes of context. Say the hard thing early, then explain. Staff can handle difficult news far better than they can handle watching a manager circle it for five minutes before landing.

Own the decision, even one you didn’t make. “That wasn’t my call” is rarely as reassuring to the listener as the manager hopes. If you’re the one delivering the news, deliver it as someone accountable for making sure the person understood it and was treated with respect, whether or not you controlled the underlying decision.

Give a next step, even a small one. Bad news lands better when it isn’t the end of the conversation. “Here’s what happens next” or “here’s what I can do to help” gives the person something to hold onto besides the disappointment itself.

Practice the hard conversations with someone you trust. Rehearsing what you’ll say out loud with a peer or mentor makes an enormous difference in how the real conversation goes. This isn’t a sign of weakness. It’s preparation for one of the harder parts of the job.

Follow up. A single difficult conversation, however well delivered, rarely closes the loop entirely. Check back in. Ask if there are lingering questions. This signals that the conversation mattered, not just that it happened.

Closing Thought

A manager who cannot deliver bad news isn’t protecting their staff from discomfort. They’re transferring the discomfort of uncertainty onto the very people who asked, in good faith, for clarity. Staff generally don’t expect their manager to have good news all the time. They do expect honesty, especially when they’ve asked for it directly. Managers who can consistently provide that, even when the news is hard, build the kind of trust that survives the next hard conversation too.

Suggested Readings

Patterson, K, & Grenny, J. (2013). Crucial accountability: Tools for resolving violated expectations, broken commitments, and bad behavior (2nd ed.). McGraw-Hill.

Scott, K. (2019). Radical candor: Be a kick-ass boss without losing your humanity. St. Martin’s Press.

Scott, S. (2004). Fierce conversations: Achieving success at work and in life, one conversation at a time. Berkley.

Stone, D., Patton, B., & Heen, S. (2023). Difficult conversations: How to discuss what matters most. Penguin Books.

David, S. (2016). Emotional agility: Get unstuck, embrace change, and thrive in work and life. Avery.


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The Permission to Stop (or at Least to Do Things Differently): Leading Libraries Through VUCA

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I recently attended the ACRL President’s Program at the American Library Association Annual Conference. The session was titled “Leading Academic Libraries through VUCA in Higher Education,” and it left me thinking about a few things that have been lingering with me for a while. VUCA, for those unfamiliar with the framework, stands for Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity. It originated in military strategy and has since found a comfortable home in leadership discourse, particularly in sectors like higher education that are experiencing simultaneous, seismic disruption on multiple fronts.

The panelists, who represented R1 university libraries and a liberal arts college library, were candid, thoughtful, and helpful. They spoke about budget pressures, the shifting political landscape, the erosion of public trust in higher education, and the relentless pace of technological change. Throughout the discussion, the topic that stayed with me most was deceptively simple: how do we stop doing things? This is a question we continually ask, and for which I posit not many have found the answer.

A Quote Worth Thinking About

One of the panelists shared a quote from Peter Drucker that I still think about: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.”

I have been in this profession long enough to know exactly what Drucker is pointing at. We are remarkably good at refining processes, improving workflows, and optimizing operations, sometimes without ever pausing to ask whether the work itself still makes sense.

A friend later added a corollary that made me laugh before it made me wince: “There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all, except doing inefficiently that which should not be done at all.” 

In some libraries, that second version may be the more accurate diagnosis.

The Service Trap

Libraries are, at their core, service organizations. That orientation is one of our great strengths. We step in when others step back. We fill gaps. We say yes. Over the decades, we have accumulated layers of work, some of it clearly ours, and much of it that migrated to us because we were willing, capable, and present.

The problem is that service orientation, unchecked by strategic intentionality, can become its own form of institutional drift. We take on work that arguably belongs in other departments of the college or university. We hold onto services that once addressed a genuine need but have since outlived their moment. We keep doing things because we have always done them, and because stopping feels like a kind of failure or abandonment.

This is not a character flaw. It is a structural one. And in a VUCA environment, where every resource decision carries real consequences, we can no longer afford to let inertia make our choices for us.

Why Stopping Is So Hard

To understand why stopping is difficult, we have to take seriously what work means to people. Staff often define themselves through their responsibilities. The cataloger who has maintained a particular collection for fifteen years, the archivist who built a finding-aid system from the ground up, the librarian who pioneered a service once considered visionary: these are not just job duties. They are identities. They are sources of purpose and professional pride.

Change management research is detailed on this point. William Bridges, in his foundational work on transitions, drew a crucial distinction between change and transition. Change is the external event. Transition is the internal psychological process of letting go of what was, navigating the uncertain middle, and eventually orienting toward something new. Leaders who focus only on managing change and skip the transition, in Bridges’ framework, set people up to fail.

This means that when we decide to sunset a service or restructure a workflow, we have an obligation to create space for grief. That word may sound dramatic in a workplace context, but it is the right one. People lose something real when the work they have invested in is discontinued. Acknowledging that loss, naming it, and not rushing past it is not soft leadership. It is effective leadership.

John Kotter’s eight-step model for leading change reminds us that generating short-term wins and communicating a clear vision are essential, but so is building the coalition that helps people move together. In academic libraries, that coalition often includes department heads, frontline staff, and faculty partners who have come to depend on specific services. Their voices belong in the conversation, not as a veto, but as a vital source of intelligence about what the work actually means and what might be lost or preserved through redesign.

The question “what should we stop?” is best answered not by leadership alone, but through a structured process that invites honest input, sets clear criteria, and separates the emotional weight of transition from the analytical work of evaluation.

A Different Path: Doing Things Differently

Stopping, of course, is not the only answer. Sometimes the right response is not to eliminate a service or function but to reimagine how it is delivered. This path, doing things differently or more efficiently, can be harder to see clearly precisely because it requires us to hold two things at once: a commitment to the underlying purpose and a willingness to release our attachment to the current method of fulfilling it.

Consider how many library workflows were designed in an earlier technological era and have simply never been revisited. A process that once required three staff members and a stack of paper forms may now be handled in a fraction of the time with the right tools, or it may be ripe for automation, consolidation, or elimination of redundant steps. The work still matters. The way we are doing it may not.

This kind of redesign demands honest self-assessment. It is easy to believe that a process is irreducibly complex because we are close to it and have invested in mastering it. But complexity is sometimes real and sometimes inherited, a historical artifact of decisions made under different constraints. Lean thinking, which has been applied with real success in library settings, invites us to map our workflows and identify waste: unnecessary steps, handoffs that add time but not value, approval chains that exist by convention rather than by genuine necessity.

Process redesign also opens conversations that pure elimination forecloses. When staff understand that the goal is not to take their work away but to improve it, resistance softens. The cataloger, freed from repetitive data entry because a system now handles it, can redirect attention to complex materials that genuinely require professional judgment. The reference librarian whose administrative burden is reduced can spend more time with the patrons whose questions matter most. Doing things differently is not always a consolation prize for failing to stop. Sometimes it is the more honest and more ambitious goal.

What this requires of leaders is clarity about purpose. We must be able to articulate, with conviction, not just what a function does but what it is ultimately for. That clarity is the anchor that allows everything else to be questioned.

Guardians of Knowledge, Not of Process

Another panelist shared, “We are guardians of knowledge, but we do not have to be guardians of our processes”.

Academic libraries have a deep and legitimate commitment to preservation, access, and the long arc of the scholarly record. That commitment is worth protecting fiercely. But the specific methods, platforms, workflows, and organizational structures through which we fulfill that commitment are not sacred. They are instruments, and instruments should be evaluated on whether they still serve the purpose for which they were designed.

This requires us to change our mental models. The assumptions that worked well in a stable environment become constraints in a volatile one. When we operate inside a fixed mental model, we optimize within it rather than question it. Chris Argyris called this “single-loop learning,” in which we adjust our actions to fix errors without examining the assumptions that produced them in the first place. “Double-loop learning” goes deeper, interrogating the governing values and frameworks themselves.

Libraries that will thrive through VUCA are those that can distinguish between what they do and why they do it, and remain willing to redesign the former while protecting the latter.

Building a Culture of Innovation

Whether we are stopping things, redesigning them, or doing both at once, none of it is sustainable without the organizational culture to support it. That is the work of building a culture of innovation, and it deserves serious attention alongside the operational decisions we make.

Research on innovative organizational cultures consistently points to a cluster of shared characteristics. Psychological safety, as Amy Edmondson has documented extensively, is foundational. People must believe they can raise questions, flag problems, and propose unconventional ideas without fear of embarrassment or punishment. Without it, the status quo is always the safest option, and no one will surface the honest assessments that strategic decision-making requires.

Innovative cultures also tend to share a tolerance for productive failure. Not recklessness, but a genuine understanding that some experiments will not succeed, and that the learning embedded in those experiments has value. This is easier said than sustained, particularly in public institutions with limited budgets and real accountability to stakeholders who may not share that view. But the alternative, an environment where no one proposes anything unless success is guaranteed, is not cautious leadership. It is organizational stagnation. I am reminded here of a quote I first heard from former Princeton University President, Shirley Tilghman, “An institution that stands still is an institution that gets left behind.” 

Shared vision matters too. Teams that understand not just what they are doing but why they are doing it, and who see a compelling picture of what success looks like, are more likely to generate novel approaches and more willing to absorb the discomfort of change. This is where leadership communication becomes a strategic act, not just an administrative one.

Finally, innovative cultures tend to distribute decision-making closer to the work. Frontline staff often know before anyone else which services are failing, which processes are wasteful, and which opportunities are being missed. Creating structured channels for that intelligence to flow upward, and actually using it, is one of the most straightforward things a leader can do to accelerate a culture of innovation. Skip-level meetings, discussed here previously, can be one such mechanism.

Embracing AI Without Surrendering to Fear

No conversation about the current landscape of academic libraries would be complete without addressing artificial intelligence, if only minimally.

There is real anxiety in our profession about what AI means for library work and for library positions. That anxiety is understandable. It is also, I would argue, not the most useful lens through which to engage the technology.

The Drucker principle applies here with particular clarity. If we are spending time and human effort on tasks that AI can perform well, and those tasks are ones we should not be doing with expensive professional attention anyway, then AI is not a threat to our work. It is permission to do our work better. And when stopping outright is not the right answer, AI is also a powerful tool for doing things differently, compressing the time and effort required for certain functions so that human capacity can be redirected to higher-value work.

Routine metadata processing, certain literature search functions, repetitive data formatting, and some aspects of interlibrary loan workflow are likely candidates for augmentation. Not elimination, augmentation. The goal is to redirect human capacity toward the work that genuinely requires human judgment, human relationships, and the kind of contextual intelligence that no model can replicate. Reference librarians who build trust with researchers over time. Collection curators who understand the intellectual trajectory of a discipline. Instruction librarians who can read a classroom and adjust in real time.

The framing that I find most useful is that AI is not coming for our profession. It is coming for our busywork. And if we can release that busywork with some grace and clear intention, we will be better positioned to articulate and demonstrate the irreplaceable value of what human library professionals actually do.

That requires us to be honest about what we have been protecting. Sometimes the resistance to AI adoption is not really about professional values. It is about the same thing the resistance to stopping any service is about: identity, habit, and the discomfort of change. Naming that honestly is the first step toward moving through it.

A Leadership Imperative

The VUCA panel at ALA reminded me that the challenges facing academic libraries are not temporary disruptions on the way back to stability. This is the environment. Volatility, uncertainty, complexity, and ambiguity are the conditions under which we will lead for the foreseeable future.

That means the question is not whether we will need to change, but whether we will lead that change intentionally or allow it to happen to us. Deciding what to stop, determining what to do differently, supporting people through the transition, shifting our mental models, cultivating genuine innovation, and engaging AI as a tool rather than a threat: these are not separate initiatives. They are facets of the same leadership challenge.

We have an opportunity to model something important for higher education right now. Not just efficient management of decline, but principled, creative, human-centered leadership through genuine uncertainty. I believe libraries are capable of that. I believe the profession has the values and the talent to rise to this moment.

The permission to stop is also the invitation to begin. And sometimes, it is simply the invitation to do the same important work in a better, more efficient, more honest, and more sustainable way.

Suggested Readings

Argyris, C. (1991). Teaching smart people how to learn. Harvard Business Review, 69(3), 99–109.

Bennett, N., & Lemoine, G. J. (2014). What a difference a word makes: Understanding threats to performance in a VUCA world. Business Horizons, 57(3), 311–317. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.bushor.2014.01.001

Bridges, W., & Bridges, S. (2009). Managing transitions: Making the most of change (3rd ed.). Da Capo Lifelong Books.

Brown, B. (2018). Dare to lead: Brave work, tough conversations, whole hearts. Random House.

Bryson, J. M. & Bert, G. (2018). Strategic planning for public and nonprofit organizations: A guide to strengthening and sustaining organizational achievement (6th ed.). Wiley.

Duhigg, C. (2014). The power of habit: Why we do what we do in life and business. Random House.

Dweck, C. S. (2007). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Ballentine Books.

Edmondson, A. C. (2018). The fearless organization: Creating psychological safety in the workplace for learning, innovation, and growth. Wiley.

Hamel, G., & Zanini, M. (2020). Humanocracy: Creating organizations as amazing as the people inside them. Harvard Business Review Press.

Kotter, J. P. (2012). Leading change. Harvard Business Review Press.

Kubler-Ross, E., & Kessler, D. (2014). On grief and grieving: Finding the meaning of grief through the five stages of loss. (reprint). Scribner.

Laloux, F. (2014). Reinventing organizations: A guide to creating organizations inspired by the next stage of human consciousness. Nelson Parker.

Oreg, S. (2003). Resistance to change: Developing an individual differences measure. Journal of Applied Psychology, 88(4), 680–693. https://doi.org/10.1037/0021-9010.88.4.680

Ries, E. (2011). The lean startup: How today’s entrepreneurs use continuous innovation to create radically successful businesses. Crown Currency.

Schein, E. H., & Schein, P. A. (2016). Organizational culture and leadership (5th ed.). Jossey-Bass.

Senge, P. M. (2006). The fifth discipline: The art and practice of the learning organization (Rev. ed.). Doubleday.

Sull, D., & Eisenhardt, K. M. (2016). Simple rules: How to thrive in a complex world. (reprint). Harper Business.

Womack, J. P., & Jones, D. T. (2003). Lean thinking: Banish waste and create wealth in your corporation (2nd ed.). Free Press.

Weick, K. E. (1995). Sensemaking in organizations. SAGE Publications.


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The Defensive Leader: Why Openness to Feedback Is a Leadership Superpower

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We all make mistakes. If we have even a modicum of self-awareness, we acknowledge those mistakes and, ideally, learn from them. But there are times when we don’t recognize or acknowledge the errors, and so real learning never has a chance to take root. And sometimes, we find ourselves working within genuinely challenging environments where the mistakes aren’t even our fault. It is precisely in those moments when self-awareness becomes most critical.

When someone calls you on a mistake, the right response is not defensiveness. It is to listen, acknowledge, reflect, learn, and then respond. That sequence matters. Notice that “respond” comes last, not first.

Defensiveness is understandable. It is a deeply human reaction, rooted in our instinct to protect our sense of competence and identity. But in anyone who influences others, whether by title, tenure, expertise, or simply the force of their presence in a room, defensiveness is also deeply corrosive. When the people around you see that raising a concern or offering a critique will be met with deflection, justification, or counterattack, they stop raising concerns. They stop offering critiques. And the person now insulated from honest feedback becomes less effective over time, often without realizing it. You don’t need a title for that dynamic to play out. You just need to be someone others are watching, and in most organizations, that is nearly everyone.

Feedback Is a Gift, Even When It Doesn’t Feel Like One

At my organization, we distributed copies of Douglas Stone and Sheila Heen’s Thanks for the Feedback to all staff. The decision was intentional: there is an art to both giving and receiving feedback, and we want everyone in our community to be thoughtful and deliberate about how they do both. The book’s central insight is that receiving feedback well is a learnable skill, and one that pays compounding dividends throughout a career.

That framing is worth sitting with. Receiving feedback well is a skill. It is not a personality trait you either have or lack. It is something you can develop, practice, and improve. And, like most skills, it requires awareness, effort, and a willingness to be uncomfortable in the short term for the sake of long-term growth. That is as true for the newest member of a team as it is for the most senior person in the room.

What I Look For in Candidates

I will share a pro tip for anyone who might one day apply to work with me. My favorite interview question is this: “Tell me about some feedback you’ve received about your job performance that has resulted in a change in the way you work.”

I love this question because it does several things at once. It invites genuine self-reflection. It asks candidates to demonstrate not just that they received feedback, but that they actually acted on it. And it reveals a great deal about a person’s relationship with their own growth and development. This question is not intended to identify future managers or directors. It aims to identify people who are willing to grow at any level within an organization. Candidates who can answer it thoughtfully and specifically, without either dismissing the feedback they received or catastrophizing it, tend to be people who will continue to grow on the job. That matters enormously to me.

Candidates who struggle with the question, or who reframe every piece of feedback they ever received as a misunderstanding or someone else’s problem, tell me something important too.

A Developmental Tool, Not a Verdict

When I use the word “leader” in this post, I am not referring exclusively to people with titles or positional authority. I mean, anyone who shows up, does their work, and interacts with other human beings in the process, which is to say, everyone. We all influence someone. We all model behaviors, whether we intend to or not. And we are all capable of either reinforcing or undermining a culture of openness, depending on how we respond to feedback.

The upshot is this: don’t be defensive, and practice being open to listening. That is easier said than done. It can be genuinely difficult to hear critical things about yourself, especially when you care deeply about your work, as most people do. The discomfort is real, and it deserves acknowledgment.

But learning to receive feedback with openness and grace is one of the most valuable professional skills any of us can develop. When we treat feedback as a verdict on our worth, we become defensive. When we treat it as a developmental tool, we become better. The choice, ultimately, is ours to make.

What kind of colleague, teammate, and yes, leader, do you want to be?

Further Reading

Dweck, C. S. (2007). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Ballentine Books.

Edmondson, A. C. (2018). The fearless organization: Creating psychological safety in the workplace for learning, innovation, and growth. Wiley.

Scott, K. (2019). Radical candor: Be a kick-ass boss without losing your humanity. St. Martin’s Press.

Stone, D., & Heen, S. (2014). Thanks for the feedback: The science and art of receiving feedback well. Penguin Books. 

Zenger, J., & Folkman, J. (2009). The extraordinary leader: Turning good managers into great leaders. McGraw-Hill.


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When the ALA Members Aren’t Allowed to Speak

Earlier this year, my colleague Beth McNeil and I submitted a resolution to the American Library Association for consideration at the membership meeting on June 17, 2026. The Resolution on ALA Financial Sustainability and Leadership Accountability called for a return to sound fiscal management, transparent governance, and leadership that answers to the members it serves.

It will not make it to the floor for debate. ALA leadership made sure of that.

I will explain what happened, what the resolution said, and why the outcome of this process is itself a case study in the accountability problem we were trying to address.

What We Were Asking

The resolution documents a serious and sustained pattern of financial difficulty. ALA’s General Fund ran a deficit of $6.3 million in fiscal year 2024 (first 11 months), $14.7 million in fiscal year 2025, and a $7 million deficit budget was approved for fiscal year 2026. By October 2025, the CFO had already reported a $3.5 million cash deficit for the current fiscal year, meaning the approved budget was failing within months of adoption.

Since we submitted the resolution, additional evidence has emerged that the Association’s financial trajectory is not improving. In April 2026, the ALA Executive Board approved a preliminary FY2027 budget projecting a deficit of approximately $5.5 million, on total revenues of roughly $38.3 million against total expenses of roughly $43.8 million (2025-2026 EBD 2.9, and EBD 3.27). That budget still requires Council approval at the Annual Meeting, but the board has already signed off on another year of planned deficit spending. This is now the pattern, not the exception.

The Association has borrowed from its endowment, including a $4 million loan in January 2026, with no specific repayment plan. Fundraising goals have been set and missed: $5 million in FY2024 and $10 million in FY2025, neither of which was achieved. Conferences have posted consistent losses. Publishing, a historically core revenue source, has run deficits. An IT outage in 2024 cost an estimated $500,000 to $600,000 in lost revenues. And membership has fallen from 49,705 in FY2022 to 44,869 in FY2025, with a retention rate below 70%, well beneath the industry standard of 80 to 85 percent.

These figures are drawn from ALA’s own reports and audit. This is not speculation. This is the documented financial condition of our Association.

The resolution requested performance reviews of the senior leaders responsible for areas with consistent losses, the restoration of year-end financial reporting to members (a practice that was discontinued), and transparent reporting by the Executive Director on corrective actions. It required no expenditure of funds. It was grounded in existing governance authority.

How It Was Handled

We followed the process. We submitted the resolution in accordance with ALA’s published guidelines. We shared it with the ALA Executive Director in advance as a courtesy. The ALA president then requested a meeting, which was also attended by the treasurer and executive director. The meeting had a clear purpose: to persuade us not to submit. We were told the resolution might be ruled out of order.

On May 28, 2026, we learned the Resolutions Committee had referred the resolution to the ALA Bylaws Committee for a ruling on whether it was out of order. On June 6, 2026, we received the committee’s conclusion. The Resolutions Committee chair wrote to us:

Unfortunately, after reviewing the resolution ourselves, and receiving feedback from the Bylaws Committee, the Resolutions Committee cannot move this resolution forward, as it would violate the bylaws of the Association.

The specific rationale from the Bylaws Committee was that our resolved clauses conflicted with two sections of the ALA Bylaws: Article IV, Section 2, which assigns management duties to the Executive Director, and Article V, Section 2, which gives the Executive Board fiduciary responsibility and delegates day-to-day operations to the Executive Director. The committee’s conclusion was that “only the Executive Board, not ALA members, can assign or delegate work to the Executive Director.”

A member of the Bylaws Committee added that “in non-profits, it is considered best practice for the Executive Director to be the staff leader to whom all other staff report. The board has one employee, the ED. The ED manages the other staff.”

178 ALA members had signed their support for the resolution. Past presidents, current directors, and longtime members of the profession. Their voices, and those of the many more who share these concerns, will not be heard.

What This Ruling Actually Says

The rationale for not moving the resolution forward is worth examining carefully.

The Bylaws Committee’s position is that ALA members cannot, through the resolution process, ask the Executive Director to take specific corrective actions, because only the Executive Board can direct the Executive Director. This is offered as a defense of governance norms. But if the Executive Board is the body responsible for directing the Executive Director, and it has presided over years of multi-million-dollar deficits, missed fundraising targets, and conference losses without meaningful corrective action, then what exactly is the members’ recourse? And I acknowledge the Executive Director has been in the role for less than one year, but the problems we describe predate this leader. 

We are told that management of the Association belongs to the Executive Director and oversight belongs to the Executive Board. We are also watching, through publicly available documents, a years-long pattern of financial deterioration with no credible plan for recovery. The preliminary FY2027 budget, approved by that same Executive Board, projects another $5.5 million deficit. And when members attempt to use the resolution process to formally name what is happening and seek accountability, they are told that the bylaws do not permit it.

This is what a member-driven organization looks like, apparently.

The committee’s citation of best practices around the Executive Director as the board’s sole employee is accurate as far as it goes. But best practice governance also holds that boards are accountable to the members of the organizations they govern, and that members have the right to express their collective will through the mechanisms their association provides. A parliamentarian’s ruling can determine whether a resolution is procedurally in order. It cannot determine whether the underlying concerns are valid. They are.

The Transparency Problem Remains

When Beth and I met with ALA leadership and asked what transparency would look like, we suggested fewer closed executive board meetings, more open access to financial reports, and genuine reporting out from executive sessions. The Spring 2026 Executive Board minutes (2025-2026 (EBD 2.9) are instructive. The board moved into executive session to discuss ALA Editions, ALA Real Estate, appointments, and strategic board matters, and then adjourned from those sessions without a report out, despite a commitment made in August 2025 to do exactly that.

The minutes also include language like this:

Sam Helmick, ALA President, provided an update of the work around this Spring Board Session in providing a space for strategic discussion to address areas on our structural deficit and the ALA Forward roadmap.  

I do not know what that means. I do know that ALA members deserve better.

Where We Go From Here

The Resolutions Committee offered us the opportunity to revise the resolution so that it no longer conflicts with the bylaws. We will not be doing that. The resolution said what it needed to say. The 178 members who signed it understood what they were supporting. A revised resolution, sufficiently softened to satisfy the very leadership it was meant to hold accountable, would not be the same resolution.

I have already stepped back from my ALA commitments, and I will only selectively reengage. That is not a decision I made lightly. I have given a significant part of my professional life to this Association, and I believe in what it is supposed to stand for. But I also believe that an organization unwilling to hear from its members through the processes it created for exactly that purpose has lost its way.

Blocking a resolution does not make the financial problems disappear. The deficits are real and compounding. The membership decline is real. The pattern of unmet fundraising goals, underperforming conferences, and executive sessions without accountability is documented and ongoing.

What this process has demonstrated is that when members attempt to use the formal governance tools available to them, those tools can be redirected and neutralized when the questions they raise are uncomfortable. 

ALA matters. The profession needs it to be strong, financially stable, and genuinely accountable to its members. That is not an attack on the Association. It is a statement of what the Association is supposed to be. Whether ALA’s current leadership chooses to rise to that standard is, apparently, not something its members are permitted to weigh in on.

Correction:

The Executive Board did not take a ($4M) loan from the Long-Term Investment (the endowment), but rather WITHDREW funds from the Future Fund, which is unrestricted.  The Endowment Trustees did not approve funds in excess of the annual payout withdrawal, but the final decision rests with the Executive Board.  The previous $3M transfers with terms had a repayment and interest process.  The Executive Board has waived that.  This action does not impact restricted or designated gift funds.

What the Heart Does: Making the Strategic Case for the Library

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[Author’s note: Although “university” is used throughout this post, the “heart” metaphor is used equally in all types of institutions of higher education, colleges, community colleges, and universities. “University” in this context, therefore, refers to all these institutions.]

In my last post, I argued that if we are going to keep calling the library the heart of the university, we ought to treat it like one: with constancy, with care, and with the kind of long-term investment a vital organ deserves. I closed with a statement that I will spend some time on here because I think it is perhaps the most critical part of the argument. The case for supporting the library, I wrote, is not a sentimental one. It is a strategic one. And the best time to make it is not when the cuts are already on the table. It is now, in the ongoing life of the university, in the everyday conversations about what kind of institution we want to be. A few people who read that post asked a fair question: fine, but what is the strategic case? What does the heart actually do? It is one thing to insist that the library matters. It is another to lay out, concretely and with evidence, how it matters to the work the university most wants to be known for. So what I will do here is not a sentimental appeal, but an accounting. What follows is my attempt to unpack the strategic case point by point and to direct you to some of the research that supports it. I write this as someone with an obvious stake in this. I am a library leader, and I believe in its value. But the argument below does not rest on my belief. It rests on what scholars and students actually do with what the library provides, and on a body of research that has tried to measure it.

Collections Are the Raw Material of New Knowledge

Let’s start with the most basic function, the one so fundamental that it can be easy to overlook. The collections we curate, license, preserve, and make discoverable are the raw material of research and scholarship. A historian cannot interpret a manuscript he cannot access. A chemist cannot build on a finding she cannot read. A doctoral student cannot situate her contribution within a field whose literature is locked behind a paywall that the university has declined to pay. This is not a metaphor. New knowledge is created by building on existing knowledge, and existing knowledge lives in the journals, databases, books, datasets, archives, and digital collections that libraries assemble and sustain. When a faculty member publishes a breakthrough, the citations at the end of the article are, in a real sense, a map of the collection that made it possible. Cut the collection, and you do not simply inconvenience scholars. You constrain what they are able to discover because you have narrowed the body of work they can stand on. The library is not adjacent to the research enterprise. It is one of its preconditions.

The Library Helps Researchers Win, and Keep, Grants

Here is a connection that deserves to be made far more explicitly than it usually is: library resources and library expertise are part of how researchers secure external funding, and part of how they remain compliant once they have it. Consider what a competitive grant application now requires. Federal agencies and major foundations increasingly mandate data management and sharing plans, public-access deposit of resulting publications, and credible strategies for preserving and disseminating research products. These are not afterthoughts; they are scored and enforced. Libraries are frequently the unit on campus with the deepest expertise in exactly these areas. Many academic libraries now provide direct consultation on data management plans, identify appropriate repositories, advise on persistent identifiers and dataset citation, and help researchers meet funder requirements that would otherwise consume hours of faculty time. This is not trivial. Research is a major source of institutional revenue (depending on the institution, of course), and the administrative burden on individual investigators has grown accordingly; one survey found that a large majority of researchers now spend a substantial share of their time on administrative tasks rather than on the research itself (Library Journal, 2022). Every hour a librarian can absorb of that burden is an hour returned to discovery. And in some cases, the value is even more concrete: certain library-provided resources and services can be documented as cost share or, in some cases, as direct costs within a grant budget. The library, in other words, is not only a place researchers go after they win funding. It is part of the apparatus that helps them win it in the first place.

We Are Partners Across the Whole Research Lifecycle

The phrase “the library helps with research” can sound vague, so I’ll be specific about what that help actually looks like across the arc of a project. At the front end, librarians help scholars scope a research question, conduct comprehensive literature searches, identify funding opportunities, and design data management plans that meet funder mandates. In the middle, we provide the licensed collections, specialized databases, computing tools, and research data services that the work depends on day-to-day. We advise on managing, organizing, and documenting data so that it remains usable and reproducible. At the back end, we offer expertise in scholarly communication and publishing: navigating author rights and licensing, understanding journal quality and predatory practices, depositing work in institutional or disciplinary repositories, complying with open-access and public-access policies, and increasing the visibility and impact of published scholarship. We help authors with persistent identifiers, research impact metrics, and ensuring their institutional affiliation is correctly attributed, which, as I note below, has consequences well beyond the individual scholar. This lifecycle framing matters because it reveals how much of the modern research enterprise the library actually touches. We are not a warehouse that scholars visit occasionally. We are a service partner woven through the entire process, from the first literature search to the final deposit of the published article and its underlying data.

This Work Shapes Institutional Reputation and Ranking

It may seem like a long way from a data management consultation to a university’s position in the national and international rankings. But it is not as far as it looks. Academic reputation and research output carry significant weight in major global ranking systems; in the QS World University Rankings, for example, the academic reputation indicator alone accounts for roughly 30% of the overall score (QS, 2026). Those reputation and research indicators are built, in large part, on bibliometric data: publications, citations, and the correct attribution of scholarly output to the institution. Libraries are often the unit best positioned to improve the accuracy of that data by resolving author-affiliation issues, correcting name variants, and helping faculty increase the visibility and discoverability of their work. Where libraries have partnered with their institutions on exactly this kind of bibliometric work, they have contributed directly to the data that rankings rely on (Bernal, 2019). The point is not that the library single-handedly determines the institution’s ranking. No single unit does. The point is that the strength of the knowledge infrastructure and the accuracy with which scholarly output is captured and attributed feed directly into the metrics by which institutional reputation is judged. The heart’s condition shows up in the body’s overall vitality.

Strong Libraries Help Attract Faculty and Graduate Students

Ambitious scholars choose where to build their careers, and they pay attention to whether a university can support the work they want to do. A faculty recruit weighing two offers will ask, perhaps not always out loud, whether she will be able to get the materials she needs, whether the data services exist to support her grants, and whether the digital infrastructure will keep pace with her field. A prospective doctoral student choosing among programs is making, in part, a judgment about whether the scholarly resources will sustain a multi-year dissertation endeavor. A well-resourced library is a recruiting asset. A library that has been hollowed out, with canceled journal packages and unfilled expert positions, becomes a quiet liability, the kind of thing a recruit discovers only after arriving, and remembers when a colleague at a peer institution asks how things are going. In a competitive talent market, the depth of collections and the strength of research support staff are part of what a university truly offers. They are part of the pitch, whether or not anyone names them in the recruitment brochure.

For Undergraduates, Library Use Tracks With Success

The case so far has centered on research and reputation. But the library’s strategic value reaches students just as directly, and here the evidence is especially worth knowing, because it is more robust than many people assume. A substantial and growing body of research has documented positive, statistically significant correlations between students’ use of the library and their academic success, measured in the ways institutions care about most: grades, persistence, and time-to-graduation. In an influential study at the University of Minnesota, Soria, Fransen, and Nackerud (2013) found that first-time, first-year students who used the library earned a higher first-semester GPA and were retained from fall to spring at higher rates than students who did not use it (Soria, Fransen, & Nackerud, 2013). Subsequent work by the same team found that using the library even once in the first year was associated with significantly greater odds of graduating within four years or remaining enrolled. Importantly, a number of these studies reach their conclusions while controlling for prior characteristics such as high school GPA, demographic factors, and first-generation or Pell-eligible status, which strengthens the case that the relationship is not simply an artifact of which students were already likely to succeed. The pattern is not confined to a single campus. A broad review prepared for the Association of College and Research Libraries synthesized evidence linking library resources, instruction, and services to student learning and outcomes (Oakleaf, 2010), and subsequent multi-institution, multi-year studies have continued to find positive associations between library use and retention, GPA, and degree completion. The research is honest about its limits: these are correlations, and the strength of the relationship varies by service, discipline, and year of study. But the consistency of the finding across institutions, methods, and decades is striking. Students who engage with the library tend to do better. For an institution worried about retention and graduation rates, which is to say nearly every university, this is not a soft benefit. It is a direct line to the outcomes that drive enrollment revenue, accreditation, and public accountability.

The Library Is the One Truly Interdisciplinary Space on Campus

There is one more strategic asset that is easy to undervalue precisely because it is so familiar: the space itself, and what it represents. Most spaces on a campus belong to someone. A department has its building. A university has its complex. A lab is the domain of a particular research group. The library is one of the few places that belongs to everyone, the genuinely interdisciplinary commons where a first-year engineering student, a doctoral candidate in history, a faculty member from the business school, and a visitor from the community can all occupy the same room with equal claim to it. It is welcoming to all, by design and by mission. That openness is not incidental; it is part of what makes the university a community rather than a collection of silos. This matters strategically in at least two ways. First, that sense of belonging is itself tied to student success; students who feel they have a place on campus are more likely to persist. Second, the interdisciplinary commons is where unplanned connections occur, where chance encounters and shared resources quietly hold an often-fractured university together. In an era when so much of academic life has dispersed into specialized and physically separate domains, the library remains a rare shared ground. That is not a small thing to sustain, and it is a very hard thing to rebuild once lost.

And a Few Things I Have Not Yet Named

The strategic case is broader still than the points above, and in the interest of completeness, a few more deserve at least a mention.

  • Preservation and institutional memory. Libraries and archives now function as stewards of how an institution keeps its own records, protects unique and rare materials, and makes its distinctive holdings available to the world. This is reputational and irreplaceable; a canceled subscription can be restored, but a lost archive cannot.
  • Information and AI literacy. As generative tools reshape how people find and evaluate information, the library’s long expertise in teaching people to locate, assess, and use sources responsibly becomes more valuable, not less. This is workforce preparation as much as it is scholarship.
  • Cost avoidance for the whole university. By licensing collectively, negotiating consortial agreements, and providing shared infrastructure, the library spares departments and individual researchers from duplicating expensive purchases. The centralized investment is almost always cheaper than the distributed alternative.
  • Community engagement and public mission. For public institutions especially, the library is often the most visible and accessible expression of the university’s commitment to the broader public good, which matters at a moment when higher education is being asked to justify itself.

The Through-Line

If there is a single thread connecting all of this, it is that the library’s contributions are inputs to outcomes that the university already cares deeply about. Research productivity. Grant success. Reputation and ranking. The recruitment of talented faculty and students. Undergraduate retention and graduation. Community trust. None of these is a library outcome in some narrow, parochial sense. They are university outcomes, and the library is one of the mechanisms by which the institution achieves them. That is what I mean when I say the case is strategic rather than sentimental. You do not invest in the heart because it is endearing. You invest in it because the rest of the body cannot function without it. And the time to make that investment, to name these contributions out loud, to put them in the budget conversation, the strategic plan, and the everyday discussion of institutional priorities, is not the moment the cuts arrive. It is now, while the support can still compound, in the ongoing life of the university, in the everyday conversations about what kind of university we want to be.

If the library is the heart of the university, let us not only say so. Let us show, with evidence, exactly what the heart does.

Recommended Readings

Bernal, A. (2019). Library impact with international rankings: One library’s continuous improvement journey. Library Assessment Conference. https://www.libraryassessment.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/17-Bernal-LibraryImpact.pdf

Murray, A., Ireland, A., & Hackathorn, J. (2016). The value of academic libraries: Library services as a predictor of student retention. College & Research Libraries, 77(5), 631–642. https://crl.acrl.org/index.php/crl/article/download/16541/17987

Oakleaf, M. (2010). The value of academic libraries: A comprehensive research review and report. Association of College and Research Libraries. https://www.ala.org/sites/default/files/2024-06/val_report.pdf 

QS Quacquarelli Symonds. (2026). Academic reputation (indicator). https://support.qs.com/hc/en-gb/articles/4405952675346-Academic-Reputation-Indicator

Soria, K. M., Fransen, J., & Nackerud, S. (2013). Library use and undergraduate student outcomes: New evidence for students’ retention and academic success. portal: Libraries and the Academy, 13(2), 147–164. https://hdl.handle.net/11299/143312

Soria, K. M., Fransen, J., & Nackerud, S. (2017). The impact of academic library resources on undergraduates’ degree completion. College & Research Libraries, 78(6), 812–823. https://crl.acrl.org/index.php/crl/article/view/16737/18250

Ex Libris (?) (2022, January 31). How academic libraries can support research offices more effectively. Library Journal. https://www.libraryjournal.com/story/libraries-support-research-offices


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