Some months ago, Oregon newspapers took issue with what others mistakenly viewed as an innocent request by the president of a state university. Now, because of a new report from state auditors, published by the Oregon Daily Emerald, that request loses any claim of innocence.
The press objection had been to an appeal Dave Frohnmayer of the University of Oregon made to the Oregon University System, asking the right to assure anonymity to the University’s major donors. Frohnmayer’s argument had some credibility, since some donors — unlike those who enjoy public esteem when their gifts are announced — prefer to keep a low profile. The OUS rubber-stamped approval of his request. It then was overruled by the state Legislature.
The concern of the press is that the mass media — and through them the public — need to know who is giving big bucks to state institutions. At issue is the occasional effort by a major donor to use philanthropy to influence education policy.
A prime example of how that works is Phil Knight’s recent gifting turnaround. After announcing a donation of $30 million to help expand the size of the University’s Autzen Stadium, Knight pulled back the gift. He was angry about his alma mater becoming a member of the Worker Rights Consortium (WRC) at the urging of Oregon students.
Expansion plans for the Ducks were in a bind — until the OUS came to the rescue. It drafted a new guideline that, after the fact, made it illegal for the University to be a member of the WRC. Reinstatement of the massive gift has not followed, but some anticipate it.
Now the OUS and the University have new financial confusion to wade through. It is described in a state audit that faults the University for failing to adequately control and account for how its employees spend public dollars. In response, a University vice-president agreed improvement might be needed.
My experience as a one-time University employee convinces me that the assurance of seeking improvement is sincere. But the audit uncovered another questionable money matter where the University stonewalls when it comes to disclosure: the existence of a camouflaged University foundation that escapes having its donations publicly reported. The University Foundation in Agate Hall on campus is labeled “private,” suggesting it can be used without accountability to state guidelines.
The auditors got only partial information on how money from this low-profile foundation is used, according to a published comment by audit administrator Jim Pitts. His statement said the University claims that by designating the foundation “private,” it can use the money as it chooses, without state review.
If the money is spent improperly, auditors — and the public — have no way of knowing. But something else is clear and ironic. Even if the president’s request to keep some donors anonymous was denied by the Legislature, anonymity still exists. In fact, it thrives, thanks to a private foundation, unaccountable to the state and its citizens, as it operates out of the same building that houses the University Alumni Office.