presidents and provosts.
This part of the analysis, like any collection of human opinion, was sure to include old-fashioned prejudice and ignorance. Ittended to protect the famous schools at the top of the list, because they were the ones people knew about. And it made it harder for up-and-comers.
In 2008, Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas,was tumbling in the U.S. News ranking. Its score, which had been 97 three years earlier, had fallen to 105, 108, and now 113. This agitated alumni and boosters and put the chancellor, Victor Boschini, in the hot seat. “The whole thing is very frustrating to me,” Boschini told the campus news site, TCU 360. He insisted that TCU was advancing in every indicator. “Our retention rate is improving, our fundraising, all the things they go on.”
There were two problems with Boschini’s analysis. First, the U.S. News ranking model didn’t judge the colleges in isolation. Even schools that improved their numbers would fall behind if others advanced faster. To put it in academic terms, the U.S. News model graded colleges on a curve. And that fed what amounted to a growing arms race.
The other problem was the reputational score, the 25 percent TCU couldn’t control.Raymond Brown, the dean of admissions, noted that reputation was the most heavily weighted variable, “which is absurd because it is entirely subjective.” Wes Waggoner, director of freshman admissions, added that colleges marketed themselves to each other to boost their reputational score. “I get stuff in the mail from other colleges trying to convince [us] that they’re a good school,” Waggoner said.
Despite this grousing, TCU set out to improve the 75 percent of the score it could control. After all, if the university’s score rose, its reputation would eventually follow. With time, its peers would note the progress and give it higher numbers. The key was to get things moving in the right direction.
TCU launched a $250 million fund-raising drive. It far surpassed its goal and brought in $434 million by 2009. That aloneboosted TCU’s ranking, since fund-raising is one of the metrics. The university spent much of the money on campus improvements, including $100 million on the central mall and a new student union, in an effort to make TCU a more attractive destination for students. While there’s nothing wrong with that, it conveniently feeds the U.S. News algorithm. The more students apply, the more selective the school can be.
Perhaps more important, TCU built a state-of-the-art sports training facility and pumped resources into its football program. In the following years, TCU’s football team, the Horned Frogs, became a national powerhouse. In 2010, they went undefeated, beating Wisconsin in the Rose Bowl.
That success allowed TCU to benefit from what’s called “the Flutie effect.” In 1984, in one of the most exciting college football games in history, a quarterback at Boston College, Doug Flutie, completed a long last-second “Hail Mary” pass to defeat the University of Miami. Flutie became a legend. Within two years,applications to BC were up by 30 percent. The same boost occurred for Georgetown University when its basketball team, anchored by Patrick Ewing, played in three national championship games. Winning athletic programs, it turns out, are the most effective promotions for some applicants. To legions of athletically oriented high school seniors watching college sports on TV, schools with great teams look appealing. Students are proud to wear the school’s name. They paint their faces and celebrate. Applications shoot up. With more students seeking admission, administrators can lift the bar, raising the average test scores of incoming freshmen. That helps the rating. And the more applicants the school rejects, the lower (and, for the ranking, better) its acceptance rate.
TCU’s strategy worked. By 2013, it was the second most selective university in Texas, trailing only