THIS COLUMN was supposed to be about why dining hall food is so expensive. But like a good journalist, I needed a source: I called Brent Beringer, director of Dining Services. He very nicely explained that he couldn't answer any of my questions and that I should really talk to the Office of the Dean of Students. I gave them a ring and a very puzzled woman informed me that the Office of the Dean of Students had absolutely nothing to do with dining policy, but she was happy to transfer me to the Office of the Associate Vice President of Business Operations. They transferred my request back to Beringer, who still couldn't answer any of my questions.
Throughout this ordeal I got a taste of something to which most University students are happily oblivious: the massive, impenetrable University bureaucracy. There are 27 vice presidents in the University, ranging from the Associate VP of Business Operations to the Associate VP of Environmental Health and Safety to the Assistant VP for Integrated Development and Support. This doesn't even include the dozens of deans, directors, vice-provosts, or vice-chancellors. All of this seems designed to ensure that a student with a legitimate question can't get any answers. I was a reminded a bit of the boss from the movie "The Incredibles" who was aghast at the thought of clients "penetrating the bureaucracy."
To be fair, from universities to corporations to governments, no large organization can function without some element of bureaucracy. One of the first things George Washington did after becoming president was to set up the rudiments of a government bureaucracy so government could function and actually get things done. Except he created three departments -- now we've got fifteen. In the corporate realm, academics such as James Hlavacek of SUNY Albany and Victor Thompson of the University of Florida have concluded that a "large, production-oriented organization (read: bureaucracy) has difficulty innovating." The saving grace is that when a corporate bureaucracy cuts into a firm's bottom line, a big restructuring is sure to follow. But for non-profits like the University, there's no such impetus.
The result is a sprawling bureaucracy adept at giving outsiders the run around. When the director of dining services couldn't tell me how Aramark's contract was negotiated, I was tempted to steal a line from "Office Space" and reply, "What would you say you do here?" Bureaucrats have an astonishing ability to embed themselves in an organization, and without stockholders to answer to, it's hard to give them the axe. So they stifle innovation and become essential because they're experts in arcane processes which are only continued because the bureaucrats are there to carry them out. By the way, I just dropped off my Interim Degree Audit form to be signed in triplicate. Hopefully they don't lose it and remember to mail it back to me in the next two weeks. Otherwise, well, I don't graduate.
The number of hours I've wasted filling out forms is simply staggering. From deposit slips to taxes, we waste countless hours doing paperwork instead of doing more useful things with our time. And processes within large bureaucracies are not only inefficient, but dehumanizing too. When you sign up for classes in a few weeks, would you prefer to be called by your Student ID number or your Social Security Number? And guess what the LSATs and Iraqi elections have in common? You get finger-printed with purple ink in both. You also can't use digital watches, mechanical pencils, or bottled water while taking the LSATs because they are the root of all cheating and evil. Such absurd policies complete with a callous disregard for people are representative of the kind of processes that come out of large bureaucracies. I think I'm starting to see why bureaucrats don't like justifying themselves to outsiders.
If nothing else, bureaucracies makes a great topic for satire. One of my favorites is the 1985 movie "Brazil." Written by absurdist playwright Tom Stoppard et al. and directed by Monty Python's Terry Gilliam, the movie depicts an Orwellian dystopia where citizens need to fill out government paperwork to do something as simple as fix a pipe. True you'll still have to wait on line and do your taxes after the movie, but at least you'll be entertained for a few hours. And that's more than any bureaucrat can say.?
Josh Levy's column appears Mondays in The Cavalier Daily. He can be reached at jlevy@cavalierdaily.com.