Money, Mission and Culture: Strategic Planning for Colleges Under Pressure

May 11, 2026, By Chet Haskell – Every institution of higher education has some form of strategic plan. Indeed, such plans are usually required by accrediting organizations. These plans are supposed to define organizational goals and provide a clear path towards their achievement. For many institutions, strategic plans are largely aspirational, seeking to give guidance to stakeholders in order to channel their energies and to provide a degree of comfort for stakeholders for the road ahead.

The Plight of the Small Private Colleges

However, there is a class of private, non-profit colleges and universities where strategic plans have an existential dimension. There are close to a thousand small (3000 or fewer. students) colleges and universities that are at financial risk of failure. The elemental question these institutions face is: what must we do to stay alive institutionally? Strategic plans thus take on a special role for these institutions, both in their substance and in terms of their framing of the culture through which substance is manifested. Strategic plans here are central to the future of these schools.

The sources of pressures on these institutions are well known. More than eighty have closed in the past decade and another 30 have merged with other institutions.  The conditions for survival of the rest are not propitious.

Funding is at the root of this situation. The current tuition-based economic model for these schools is inadequate to meet their revenue needs. Yes, there a few wealthy institutions  with huge endowments:  there are 94 private institutions with endowments in excess of $1 billion. But these represent only 6% of such schools. The vast majority have small (or no) endowments and limited opportunities for other revenue sources beyond the tuition that comes with enrollments. There are more than 800 institutions with endowments averaging $30 million, which is almost insignificant in terms of how much supporting revenue can be garnered and directed toward the operational costs of the college. And, strikingly, there are at least 328 institutions with no endowment at all.

Furthermore, there are several other sources of pressure on such institutions. Their basic model is typically a residential undergraduate experience for 18-22 year old students, a demographic that is shrinking. Most of these institutions discount their tuition by 50% or more, meaning their situations are even more dire. Generating net tuition revenue means doubling enrollments. While critics sometimes counsel expanding programs to accommodate older, working students, many institutions are poorly set up to do so. Institutions  also lack significant distance education capacity. They have limited opportunities, experience and capital for expansion of programs. Their tenured faculty often lack experience with older students. And they are competing with a large number of similar institutions trying to do the same thing. And there is recent evidence such enrollments are declining. Finally, there is recent evidence such enrollments may also be declining.

The Purpose of a Strategic Plan

Fundamentally, most strategic plans are future-oriented and seek to show how to balance adequate resources with reasonable expenses. Since these schools are tuition dependent, most plans start with the goal of increasing enrollments and presenting ways to achieve this.  However, this is not merely a matter of growing numbers of students or increasing tuition dollars. Institutions of higher education are seamless webs where activities in one area are connected directly to several other areas. There are crucial additional elements that are not as clear-cut as enrollments or total revenue. Money  is necessary, but not sufficient.

The Role of Institutional Mission

The institution’s mission is key. Clear explication of mission presents a college’s basic purpose: why it exists and what it offers to both the individual student and to society at large. Externally, the mission is a crucial message to its internal community, potential students and families, possible donors and external communities about its purpose. Internally, the mission is a foundational expression of why students, faculty, staff and alumni should care about and support the college.

A strong and clear mission statement can help to focus attention and to attract individuals who might wish to study, teach or work there. It can be a powerful differentiator in a crowded marketplace. It can engender pride, loyalty and commitment, sometimes being credited as a reason one wishes to be part of a college, regardless of challenges, high tuition or low salaries. A strong mission statement can help tie an institution together.

A distinct and unambiguous mission statement is central to any strategic plans for the institution. Strategic plans or strategic initiatives must build on mission to express a realistic and direct blueprint to manifest that mission and promote institutional sustainability.

Unfortunately, many mission statements and strategic plans fail in this regard. Maria Toyoda, president of the WASC Senior College and University Commission, a leading  accreditation body, recently addressed the mission component underlying strategic plans, arguing that many college mission statements try to say everything and end up being meaningless. Meaningless missions lead to meaningless strategic plans. Every institution should be examining and perhaps reimagining its mission, preferably with a team of faculty, students, alumni, administrators and board members. This is a good way to get strategic planning rolling and in front of all, if there is time to do so.

Talia Argondezzi, writing in McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, goes further. In a recent piece entitledIntroducing Our Lord and Savior, the College’s New Strategic Initiative, she

satirizes the very concept of strategic plans and initiatives by praising such efforts in quasi-religious terms as promising all things to all people. Good satires are based in fact and Argondezzi is grounded in hers as the director of the writing and speaking program at Ursinus College. (Ursinus has an endowment of approximately $164 million, which places it above the 800 or so institutions most relevant for this essay, but still an institution facing the same risks.)

Strategic Plans are Often Unrealistic

The reality is that many mission statements and strategic plans are in fact often little more than aspirational window dressing. Institutions need a clear sense of where they are, where they are heading and how they intend to get there. Not only do they need to do this for external bodies such as accreditors and for a hope of attracting necessary enrollments and resources, but they also need to so it for all of the internal and external stakeholders.

Time is also relevant. Many strategic plans are constructed as five-year initiatives. This is too short a time frame for the future. Plans should either be shorter in term or, even annually reviewed and updated. Time is no one’s friend.

Unlike for-profit enterprises, the primary goal of private colleges is not simply to make money. A clear mission statement underscores this. And at the same time, it is important to remember that a college, like most organizations, is a collection of individuals working together for a common purpose. In other words, the human elements are central.

Indeed, the matter of culture permeates every college. Personnel decisions – especially presidential searches and other top appointments – often turn not on qualifications or experience, but on subjective judgments on how the individual will fit in. In other words, how will the new leader fit into the existing culture? Search committees always ask this question.

Culture has a significant role in appointments. For example, boards and search committees are asked by executive search firms to define the type of individual being sought for a position and do so in largely subjective terms. Search firms then often fall into a trap of only proposing candidates they interpret as fitting a narrow profile defined by the institution.

Thus, the institutional culture has a defining effect on what a new president or other senior leader should be. Hollis Robbins has described how college leaders generally are part of a nomenklatura, where being seen as appropriate for a leading role typically requires having demonstrated capacity in lower-level roles. The notion of who might be a good leader is often straitened by such expectations, excluding candidates who do not match a preconceived profile and who “might not fit.” This sort of isomorphic behavior has a direct impact not only on who is appointed to various posts, but also on the entire strategic planning process. Getting the right people with a shared culture can enhance the process. Getting this wrong will upset the process and likely lead to suboptimal, undesirable outcomes

What makes a good strategic plan?

Effective institutions employ mission statements and the development of strategic plans as elements of building a common institutional culture, a shared purpose. Mission statements are regularly reviewed with the institution and sometimes modified. Strategic plans often are developed through lengthy and inclusive processes. The concerns of the various constituents or stakeholders are recognized and addressed in some fashion. Accreditors encourage such processes. Good leaders understand and encourage such engagement. Getting people involved is a common means of engendering support for a plan, especially when a plan involves changes.

Of course, this approach may mean a set of compromises where everyone gets something. (Setting the ground for wild satires like Argondazzi’s.) Well-managed plans are more focused and take less of a something for everyone approach. Inputs are taken from all points, but decisions are made about priorities. Realities are made clear, and choices are defined. 

The most important elements of an effective plan are the presentation of how the institution will fulfill its mission. Specific, practical goals and timelines are put forth. Crucially, an effective strategic plan is not only clear and pragmatic, but it is central to the institution’s credibility and the credibility of its leaders. Confidence and trust in leaders are invaluable commodities, and both are built on credibility.

Institutional Culture in Alternative Structures

Not only does institutional culture impact the formation and implementation of a strategic plan. Culture plays a central role in a college’s strategy that looks beyond a plan for success as an independent institution. For another reality today is that many institutions must consider possible partnerships, mergers, or other arrangements if their path to healthy independence is not viable. Just as the news is full of college closures, it is also replete with examples of institutions coming together.

As with single institution strategic plans, money is usually the key element in any discussion of partners. Institutions with sustainable independent budgets usually don’t think much about partnerships. The default position of most private higher education institutions does not involve collaboration.

Forward thinking colleges sometimes address the question: What do we do if our plans fall short? Such an approach will often lead to at least the exploration of possible partnerships or mergers. A school may have programs that could grow, but lack the resources and time it takes to accomplish this. Is there a way a potential partner might be a source for such investments? Real estate sometimes plays a central role as an asset that is not accessible for budget purposes. Is there a way to monetize this asset in collaboration? Can the school be stronger and more sustainable within a partnership structure?

Therefore, a proper plan must not only put forth paths to independent sustainability and success, but it should also at least explore alternatives. This is tricky. While everyone knows colleges are under stress and that many are merging or closing, no one wants their own institution to close. And alternatives like mergers or partnerships are often viewed with trepidation, even if seen as necessary. It may be difficult or even impossible to broach the likely outcomes should plans not bear fruit, especially in plans that are made public. There is always the danger of creating a self-fulfilling partnership. Institutional leaders must be keenly aware of possibilities and sensitive to communication implications.

The Keys to a Successful Partnership

Much has been written about partnerships and mergers as being essential to provide institutional scale and to promote continuing existence. The specifics of any such arrangement are unique to the institutions involved. However, there are three principal elements of any successful deal. First and foremost, the finances must work. The proposed financial arrangements must be realistic and workable for the schools involved. Otherwise, there can be no deal. Both sides need to do their own analysis and reach roughly the same conclusions.

However, a second key is cultural alignment or fit. The cultures of two separate institutions must be melded if the combined entity is to be a success. Cultural fit is essential for two human organizations attempting to become partners. If the cultures cannot come together, it will be nearly impossible to fulfill the third basic requirement: implementation of an agreement.

A merger or partnership is much more than the signing of a formal agreement. That is just the beginning. There are accreditor and regulatory hurdles to be faced. The specifics of program changes, new initiatives, shared services agreements and much more must be addressed. Accomplishing this means people in both institutions must find ways to work together for common purpose. This may be difficult. A collaboration may mean some jobs will be abolished or changed. Or, there are many examples of agreements that have faltered because it became clear that working together might be too stressful or difficult.

The reality is that agreements of this type are complex and take time. Further, it is not the presidents or senior leaders that have to make this work, but faculty and staff at all levels and often alumni must be able to come together. Individuals in a new structure have to develop credibility and trust among each other. People must come together.

Dollars and culture are essential

Colleges facing today’s daunting challenges must be coldly realistic in assessing their situations and exploring options for addressing those challenges, especially financial challenges. It has been said that “no mission, no margin,” meaning that if an institution is unclear about its purpose, it is difficult to attract sufficient resources to implement it. And if the resources cannot be found, the institution must fail and its mission will be unrealized.

Thus, the saying “no margin, no mission” is also true. Private institutions that cannot generate enough money to balance a budget and have at least a little surplus cannot survive for long in their current forms. Boards and leaders must face such realities squarely. And their strategic plan is the crucial place to do so. Failure in this risks adding their institutions to the lengthening list of closures.

Should some form of partnership be an outcome, the same dual requirements of finances and  cultures will form the core of a new plan for the new structure.  In this case, the partnership is the beginning of new chapters, not an end in itself.

Finances and human, cultural matters are inextricably linked in both single institutions and those entering a partnership arrangement. Money and people must go together make for success.

References:

Maria Toyoda, Many college mission statements say everything – and nothing at all.  Chronicle of Higher Education, April 22, 2026

Talia Argondezzi, Introducing Our Lord and Savior, the College’s New Strategic Initiative, McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, February 6, 2026

Hollis Robbins, The Higher Ed Nomenklatura, Inside Higher Ed, May 12, 2025


Dr. Chet Haskell serves as Co-Head for the College Partnerships and Alliances for the Edu Alliance Group. Chet is a higher education leader with extensive experience in academic administration, institutional strategy, and governance. He recently completed six and a half years as Vice Chancellor for Academic Affairs and University Provost at Antioch University, where he played a central role in creating the Coalition for the Common Good with Otterbein University. Earlier in his career, he spent 13 years at Harvard University in senior academic positions, including Executive Director of the Center for International Affairs and Associate Dean of the Kennedy School of Government. He later served as Dean of the College at Simmons College and as President of both the Monterey Institute of International Studies and Cogswell Polytechnical College, successfully guiding both institutions through mergers.

An experienced consultant, Dr. Haskell has advised universities and ministries of education in the United States, Latin America, Europe, and the Middle East on issues of finance, strategy, and accreditation. His teaching and research have focused on leadership and nonprofit governance, with a particular emphasis on helping smaller institutions adapt to financial and structural challenges. He earned DPA and MPA degrees from the University of Southern California, an MA from the University of Virginia, and an AB cum laude from Harvard University.

Small Colleges as Community Anchors

How Small Colleges and Small Towns Can Save Each Other

April 6, 2026, By Dean Hoke – I chose a small college for what a large university couldn’t offer—smaller classes, close faculty interaction, and freedom to explore my path. My experience revealed a bigger truth: small colleges and their towns are deeply linked, and their survival depends on collaboration, not isolation.

For me, that place was Urbana College in Ohio, with about 500 students when I enrolled in the late 1960s. It was where I learned to study, ask questions freely, and begin a career.

I’ve always been grateful for what that college gave me. Which is why it stayed with me when it disappeared.

Like many small institutions in recent years, Urbana was absorbed through a merger and ultimately closed. My alma mater is gone, and that loss has never left me. This is why I’ve spent the last several years trying to understand what’s happening to small colleges nationwide—and what it means for their communities.

Since 2022, I’ve conducted more than 75 podcast interviews—over 40 with presidents, provosts, and senior leaders at small colleges. I’ve also spent two years researching and writing about the economics of closures, leadership challenges, and the most at-risk communities.

After all those conversations, data, and lived experiences, one answer stands out: lasting success happens not by saving just the college, but by ensuring the college and town intentionally unite to secure each other’s futures. That partnership is the core way forward.

The Crisis We’re Not Talking About

I produce and co-host Small College America because I believe small private colleges are one of the most underreported—and undervalued—parts of American civic life.

We spend a lot of time talking about the elites, flagship state universities, and major research institutions. We spend far less time talking about the 1,700+ small private colleges that serve students who often don’t have access to those institutions and that anchor communities with few, if any, alternative economic drivers. However, these colleges are disappearing at a pace that should concern policymakers, philanthropists, and community leaders.

The numbers are moving in the wrong direction—and quickly. In 2024, Forbes assessed more than 900 private nonprofit colleges and found that 182 received a financial grade of D. Just three years earlier, that number was 20.

Huron Consulting Group, analyzing more than a decade of financial and enrollment data, projects that as many as 370 of the nation’s 1,700 private nonprofit colleges will close or merge within the next decade—more than triple the closure and merger rate of the previous ten years. An additional 430 institutions face moderate existential threats. Taken together, that is nearly half of all private colleges in the country.

And the demographic cliff driving these projections—a 13 percent drop in high school graduates expected between 2025 and 2041, hitting the Midwest and Northeast hardest—has not yet fully arrived.

I also want to be clear about something: not every small college should be saved. Some institutions are financially too far gone, too disconnected from their communities, or too duplicative of what already exists nearby. Closures and mergers will happen—and in some cases, they should. What concerns me is not the unavoidable consolidation of a sector under genuine pressure. It is the preventable loss of institutions that still have the assets, the relationships, and the community need to survive—if they and their towns are willing to act together while there is still time.

Closures are already happening, but this isn’t just a higher education story; it’s a community story. In many cases, the college and the town are bound in ways that only become apparent when one starts to falter.

When a town loses population, the college loses a natural pipeline of students. When the college contracts, it cuts jobs and spending, which weakens the local economy. That, in turn, accelerates population decline. It becomes a cycle—and once it starts, it’s difficult to reverse.

The impact is immediate—and significant. IMPLAN models show that the average college closure results in the loss of 265 jobs, $14 million in labor income, $21 million in GDP, and $32 million in total economic output.

  • $14 million in labor income
  • $21 million in GDP
  • $32 million in total economic output

In individual communities, the effects can be even more pronounced.

When Iowa Wesleyan University closed in 2023, Mount Pleasant, Iowa, lost about $55 million in annual revenue. In Rensselaer, Indiana, the closure of St. Joseph’s College resulted in the loss of 180-200 jobs. For a small city, that’s not a minor disruption.

It’s the equivalent of losing a major employer, except the institution that disappears is also educating students, training nurses and teachers, supporting local businesses, and contributing to the community’s civic and cultural life.

As Gallup economist Jonathan Rothwell has noted, the effects of college closures on communities may parallel what we’ve seen in regions that lost manufacturing.

I’ve seen that impact firsthand. It’s why I’ve come to believe that the way we frame this conversation—“how do we save the college?”—is fundamentally incomplete.

We’re Asking the Wrong Question

It’s understandable. College leaders are under pressure—from boards, from accrediting bodies, from bondholders, from their own faculty and staff. The instinct is to focus inward: cut programs, adjust pricing, increase discount rates, and find new enrollment markets.

But together, those actions are mostly defensive and don’t address the underlying problem. A small college trying to solve its challenges on its own is up against forces it can’t control—demographics, regional population shifts, declining birth rates, and increasing competition from larger and better-resourced institutions. That’s a difficult equation to solve in isolation.

The better question is this: What actions can the college and its town take together, starting now, to secure a sustainable future for both? It’s time to move beyond conversation and toward concrete, shared steps.

That shift may sound subtle, but it changes everything. Because once a college defines its future as tied to its community’s future, the range of possible strategies expands immediately. Instead of operating as a standalone institution, the college becomes part of a broader local system—one that includes the city, major employers, healthcare providers, and regional economic development efforts.

And with that shift comes access to new tools:

  • Public-private partnerships
  • State and local economic development funding
  • Philanthropic investment tied to community outcomes
  • Workforce development initiatives

At the same time, the community gains something just as valuable: a permanent institution with physical space, intellectual capital, and long-term credibility. Not many organizations in a small city can play that role. A college can.

This Isn’t a New Idea—But It Is a New Scale

Large urban universities have been doing this for years.

The University of Pennsylvania’s investment in West Philadelphia is one of the most cited examples.

The University of Notre Dame has played a central role in the redevelopment of South Bend.

Closer to where I live, Indiana University’s investment in Bloomington’s Trades District offers a recent example. Working alongside the City of Bloomington and The Mill co-working space, IU secured a $16 million Lilly Endowment grant that is expected to leverage more than $80 million in total investment—developing an innovation district, attracting high-wage employers, and creating the kind of town-gown partnership that keeps talent in the region. The keystone partners in that effort—IU, the city, and Cook Medical Group—look remarkably like the four-partner model this article advocates at a smaller scale.

These are well-documented, well-resourced efforts. But they’re also not easily replicable for the kinds of institutions we’re talking about here. What’s different—and where the opportunity lies—is applying that same “anchor institution” model to a much smaller scale:

We’re talking about a college of 1,000 to 3,000 students in a town of 10,000 to 75,000 people.

That’s where this conversation needs to move. If you are a college leader or community stakeholder, act now: form partnerships, seek creative investment, and build shared, collaborative strategies. The case is clear: the future of small colleges and towns depends on working in tandem.

Because that’s where the risk is highest—and where the potential impact is greatest.

The Third Crisis We’re Missing

There’s another piece of this story that isn’t getting enough attention. While small colleges are under pressure, so are rural hospitals. And in many communities, those two institutions are the largest employers and the most important anchors.

According to the Chartis Center for Rural Health’s February 2026 update, 41.2 percent of rural hospitals are currently operating with negative margins. Four hundred seventeen are considered vulnerable to closure.

Since 2010, more than 180 rural communities have lost inpatient hospital care entirely. The Medicaid funding cuts enacted in 2025 are expected to put even more pressure on these systems—with some analyses projecting that as many as 700 additional rural hospitals could face closure risk.

Even hospitals that remain open are withdrawing critical services. Between 2014 and 2023, according to the Commonwealth Fund, 424 rural hospitals stopped offering chemotherapy, forcing cancer patients to travel farther for care.

What’s important here isn’t just the numbers. It’s the overlap. In many towns:

  • The college and the hospital share the same workforce pipeline
  • They rely on the same donor base
  • They depend on the same local and regional economic conditions

The towns face the same structural challenge: They are both place-based institutions in regions that are losing population.

Research reinforces this connection. When a rural hospital closes, the impact extends well beyond healthcare:

  • Employment declines—with one study finding a 13.8 percent drop in healthcare jobs in counties experiencing closure
  • Labor force participation drops—research shows an average 1.4% reduction in the total labor force
  • Population loss accelerates—counties that lose their only hospital see an average decline of 1.1 percent in total population

In some cases, the economic downturn begins before the hospital closes—which suggests the closure is a symptom, not the cause. That’s a critical insight. Because it means you can’t solve the hospital’s problem by focusing only on the hospital, and you can’t solve the college’s problem by focusing only on the college.

One System, Not Three Problems

The college, the hospital, and the community are often treated as separate entities. In reality, they function as parts of the same system. When one weakens, the others feel it. When one stabilizes or grows, the benefits ripple outward.

That’s why the most promising path forward isn’t institutional independence. It’s institutional alignment.

Not loose collaboration.

Not an occasional partnership.

But a shared understanding that their futures are connected, and that acting separately is no longer a viable strategy.

Where This Is Already Working

This isn’t theoretical. There are already examples—at different scales—of institutions making this shift and seeing results.

At Colby College in Waterville, Maine, leadership deliberately aligned the college’s future with the city’s. That meant investing directly in downtown development—housing, a hotel, arts infrastructure—and measuring the results. An independent economic study covering 2019 to 2024 found that Colby supported $1.3 billion in economic activity in the greater Waterville area, while the city’s population grew by more than 9 percent—outpacing both the county (4.5 percent) and the state (3.5 percent). Forty new businesses opened downtown. The college didn’t just survive. It became central to the city’s renewal, and the Harold Alfond Foundation called the result a national model for communities working together for the greater good.

A different version of this can be seen at Gannon University in Erie, Pennsylvania. There, the university became a formal partner in the Erie Downtown Development Corporation alongside major employers and foundations, committing $2.5 million to join the governance of a downtown revitalization effort that has since raised more than $70 million. By aligning itself with regional economic priorities—particularly in life sciences and workforce development—Gannon helped drive investment and job creation while strengthening its own institutional position. Its annual economic impact on the Erie region is now estimated at $300 million.

At a smaller scale, Huntington University in Huntington, Indiana, offers a useful model.

Rather than treating community engagement as a secondary activity, Huntington has integrated it into its academic and institutional strategy. Through initiatives that connect students, faculty, and regional leaders around economic development and sustainability, the university has positioned itself as a contributor to the community’s future—not just a resident within it. In a city of roughly 17,000 people, that distinction matters: a college of 1,100 students that is visibly invested in the region’s economic future is a different kind of institution than one that simply occupies space within it.

And in Washington State, Pacific Lutheran University has taken a particularly innovative approach by building a formal three-way partnership with MultiCare Health System and Washington State University’s College of Medicine. MultiCare is committed to constructing a medical center on PLU’s campus. WSU placed medical students throughout the surrounding community, providing care to residents while living on PLU’s campus and using both institutions’ clinical facilities. The result is a small private college that is not merely training healthcare workers for jobs elsewhere—it is serving as the physical and organizational hub for healthcare delivery in its own community.

A New Model for Shared Success

Four Partners. One Shared Future.

None of the institutions we’ve talked about—Colby, Gannon, Huntington, Pacific Lutheran—moved forward by focusing only on themselves. They made a different decision, and they aligned their future with the future of the place they call home.

What’s emerging from these examples is a model that already exists in most small communities—but hasn’t yet been fully connected:

  • The college
  • The hospital
  • The city
  • A small group of key local employers

Not a loose collaboration, not a periodic meeting, but a formal, sustained partnership built around a shared reality:

If one struggles, all are affected. If one grows, all benefit.

So what does that actually look like? It starts with a few clear commitments.

A college opens underused space as a public-facing co-working hub, becoming the anchor for a remote-worker attraction strategy developed with the city and supported by state economic development funding.

The evidence that this works is substantial. Tulsa Remote, the most rigorously studied remote worker program in the country, has grown from 70 participants in 2018 to more than 3,400 as of 2024, generating $622 million in direct employment income. An independent study by the W.E. Upjohn Institute found the program to be six times more efficient at creating jobs than a traditional business tax incentive of equivalent cost—$36,000 per job versus an estimated $218,000 for a typical business incentive. Indiana alone has 55 communities now participating in similar programs with state matching funds. The city of Noblesville spent less than $1 million to attract 250 new residents who will contribute an estimated $40 million over five years. Ninety-one percent of those residents stayed. The $218,000 figure is a modeled estimate by W.E. Upjohn Institute economist Timothy Bartik, representing what a traditional business incentive would need to offer per job to match Tulsa Remote’s effectiveness—not a direct survey of actual incentive costs.

The hospital and the college create a formal workforce pipeline—training nurses, social workers, and allied health professionals in ways that both meet community need and strengthen the hospital’s long-term viability. Local employers invest in their workforce through the college, supporting degree-completion and continuing-education programs that provide more stable, predictable revenue than traditional enrollment alone. The college reconnects with its alumni—not just as donors, but as potential residents, mentors, and participants in the life of the community.

There’s one more piece that matters: Measurement.

Every successful example we’ve seen has made a point of documenting impact—through independent economic studies, public reporting, and clear outcomes tied to community growth. That’s not just about accountability, it’s about credibility.

A college that can demonstrate it helped bring new residents into a community, supported a hospital, or contributed to local economic growth becomes very difficult to ignore—and even harder to replace.

There is also a funding argument that has not yet been made loudly enough. Government incentive programs—grants, loans, tax abatements, workforce development dollars—exist precisely to attract new employers and grow local economies. Foundations and, increasingly, impact investors are searching for exactly the kind of structured, multi-institutional partnerships described here. A coalition that can present a college, a hospital, a city, and a group of employers as a unified investment case is fundamentally different from any one of those institutions applying alone. The combined balance sheet, the shared workforce pipeline, the co-located infrastructure—these are the elements that transform a grant application from a request into a compelling opportunity.

Small college towns have genuine competitive advantages to offer incoming employers and new residents alike: an educated local workforce, a cost of living substantially lower than in urban markets, and a quality of life that larger cities increasingly struggle to provide. The question is whether communities will organize themselves to make that case collectively—or continue to let those advantages go unmarketed while competing against each other for the same shrinking pool of investment dollars.

A Choice, Not a Fate

I started the Small College America podcast series because I believe these institutions matter, not as relics of the past, but as essential parts of the communities they serve. I’ve seen what happens when they close, but I’ve also seen what’s possible when leadership makes a different choice.

When Colby College president David Greene went to his board to make the case for investing in downtown Waterville, he framed it simply: Waterville had been there for Colby when the college needed it. Now it was time for Colby to be there for Waterville.

That idea, simple as it is, captures the entire argument. Small colleges in small towns are not problems to be managed. They are not institutions waiting to be consolidated, absorbed, or quietly closed. In many cases, they are the most important assets their communities have.

The pressures facing them are real.

The demographic cliff has arrived.

Healthcare systems are under strain.

Enrollment challenges are not going away.

None of that changes on its own. But the evidence is increasingly clear. From economic modeling, from community data, and from the institutions already doing this work: The places that find a path forward will be the ones where colleges, hospitals, cities, and employers stop operating independently—and start acting as partners.

This isn’t theoretical. It’s already happening. The question now isn’t whether this model can work; it’s whether more communities will choose to act on it, while there is still time to do so.


Dean Hoke is the Executive Producer and co-host for the podcast series  Small College America and Managing Partner of Edu Alliance Group, a higher education consultancy firm based in Bloomington, Indiana, and Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates. He formerly served as President/CEO of the American Association of University Administrators (AAUA). Dean has worked with higher education institutions worldwide. With decades of experience in higher education leadership, consulting, and institutional strategy, he brings a wealth of knowledge on colleges’ challenges and opportunities.  

Dean also serves as a Senior Fellow at the Sagamore Institute based in Indianapolis, Indiana,  where he is currently researching the Economic and Social Impact of Small Colleges in Rural Communities.