By Jason Belzer, Contributor
The Chinese use two brush strokes to write the word ‘crisis.’ One brush stroke stands for danger; the other for opportunity. In a crisis, be aware of the danger–but recognize the opportunity.”—John F. Kennedy
The tradition rich University of North Carolina Tar Heel’s athletic program has long been a shining example of excellence in providing a first class academic and athletic experience for student-athletes. A brilliantly innovative, disciplined and efficient organization, the Tar Heel’s used decades of momentum to build one of college athletics’ most prodigious dynasties. Yet like many great organizations that produce remarkable results over a prolonged period of time, this very success can also breed a complacency which leads to their own self-inflicted downfall.
In 2012, the Tar Heel’s were blindsided by the accusations of systemic academic fraud throughout the university and its athletics program. A university that was long seen as a case study in academic and athletic collaboration was shaken to its core by allegations of sham classes, grade inflation and rampant cheating. The corruption was so severe that it would eventually lead to the grand jury indictment of a beloved professor for “unlawfully, willfully and feloniously” accepting payment “with the intent to cheat and defraud” the university in connection with his role in teaching suspect courses.
The University of North Carolina had spent half a century building a flawless reputation, and in the span of only a few short weeks now stood at the precipice of its own self-destruction.
The crisis they faced could not simply be solved by a shrewd public relations strategy, nor the traditional corporate tactic of proclaiming mismanagement by senior leadership and firing with impunity until the mob’s lust for blood was satisfied. In truth, those would only be short-lived solutions for a far more serious and grave ailment the Tar Heels were suffering from – hubris.
Decades of uninterrupted success had created an ethos of privilege and entitlement at North Carolina; university and community leaders operated as though they existed outside the rules of the system they helped create. Like a virus, the Tar Heel culture was infected with a deep and systemic belief that the “Carolina Way” was in fact, the only way.
According to North Carolina athletic Director Lawrence (Bubba) Cunningham, “Most organizations tend to view failures as localized, independent problems. In reality, they must be cognizant that it is usually the small failures that occur on the fringes that lead to big ones. If an organization is to avoid having a series of minor errors cascade into a catastrophic situation, they must condition themselves to assume that any failure might in fact be evidence of a larger, far deeper problem.”
Cunningham has learned over a leadership career that has spanned four decades that recognizing the first signs of organizational crisis is not an easy task. If all you have ever known is success, it’s easy to become ignorant to the telltale marks of impending disaster. When crisis finally strikes, no one panics because they simply don’t understand what’s happening, and then later they panic precisely because they don’t understand what’s happening.
“When I first took over [as athletic director] in late 2011, it became immediately evident that the culture of the department had stagnated,” recalls Cunningham. “UNC had been incredibly successful for so many years, but the program was floundering. There was no mission, no roadmap on how to maintain that achievement, only the assumption that what worked in the past would somehow continue to work in the future. The Tar Heels were drifting down a directionless road of with no destination in sight,” he adds.