So Phil Knight has returned, much to the glee of the University administration and Athletic Department.
And while most accounts of this return liken it to a welcome and surprise homecoming for a long-lost member of the family, I can not help but view it with nothing more than bemused ambivalence. This is simply because we should all have known this was bound to happen, and most likely sooner than later — which it did.
We should have been aware because the Knight/University dynamic is just one example of how public universities work these days.
It was somewhat amusing to see the Register-Guard publish fawning reports when the beloved Knight appeared at a few sports events last year and to hear the administration dramatically proclaim that it will heroically carry on even with the added burden of not having Knight’s generous donations. But honestly, could we actually believe that Knight would not return in a year or two following the whole Worker Rights Consortium debacle?
It would be ridiculous not to believe it. Just like this University needs Knight’s money, Knight’s ego needs this University. Maybe Knight was not too popular when he was an undergraduate here and did not get too many dates, party invites or whatever and so now when he is a millionaire several times over he can use his largess to rebuild this University in his own image. Where else could Knight put his money — Lane Community College? I don’t think so.
Knight likely always had an intention to return to the University, but likely just wanted to see the University squirm a bit to see how much his millions were needed.
Knight may have honestly become upset over University President Dave Frohnmayer’s decision to sign on with the fledgling WRC. But what followed after Knight’s initial proclamation was nothing short of high drama. Frohnmayer immediately started to supplicate to Knight for his reconsideration in the matter and at the same time the University set in motion the means to extricate itself through the letter of law from the WRC. The State Board of Higher Education gave the University a means to escape from the WRC. And now since the University has distanced itself from the messy issue of foreign labor, our beloved “knight” in shiny armor has come to our school’s rescue. Everything fell neatly into equilibrium.
One of the best, and most repeated, products of this summer’s rumor mill — and so its truth is questionable — was that the jet carrying Joey “Heisman” Harrington, Athletic Department officials and key members of the media to New York City for the unveiling of the mammoth Harrington billboard was not sponsored by a group of well-endowed alumni, but in fact one well-known alumni who used the trip to signal his renewing affection for his alma mater.
Do not misunderstand this column, I am not against Knight and his money. I sincerely appreciate the tenured professors, renovated library, new law school and updated Autzen Stadium that athletic shoe money can buy. I am just, again, impressed by the steadfast refusal of some people to not come to grips with the idea that higher education is a form of business financed by donations. This is even more true in a state like Oregon that is usually hard-pressed to fund all its state programs in a good year, and is even now considering an emergency session for further budget cuts. But when I see the outpouring of jubilation in Knight’s return, and also those saying: “This just highlights the growing problem of private donors buying influence in public institutions,” I see people who still have not realized how higher education works.
This institution has a bottom line and must consider that above all else. All these great educational programs are not funded by good will and respect for the common good — they are funded by money and those who have money.