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BUILDING STATE SCIENCE: Paper prepared for: American Association for the Advancement of Science Workshop on Academic Research Competitiveness, Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
October 1-3, 1999
by W. Henry Lambright Professor, Political Science and Public Administration Director, Center for Environmental Policy and Administration The Maxwell School of Citizenship & Public Affairs Syracuse University
* Research on this paper was supported by the American Association for the Advancement of Science's Research Competitiveness Project. The views expressed in the paper are those of the author alone and do not necessarily reflect views of AAAS. I have benefited from comments on an earlier draft by Albert Teich, and from general comments as research proceeded from Scott Hauger and his colleagues at AAAS, as well as Irwin Feller.
In 1977, the director of the National Science Foundation (NSF), Richard Atkinson, was testifying before the House Subcommittee on Science, Research and Technology. Ray Thornton (D. Ark.) asked Atkinson how much NSF money his state received. Atkinson knew, but felt the sum was so embarrassingly small he did not want to give the figure in public, so he said he would get back to the congressman later with the answer. After the hearings, Atkinson explained his dilemma to Thornton, who asked him, "Can’t we encourage scientific research in areas of the country that are not traditional providers?" Atkinson said, "Yes, I believe that is part of our charge." That interchange helped lead to NSF’s Experimental Program to Stimulate Competitive Research (EPSCoR). Begun in 1979, EPSCoR now has a 20-year history of effort to build research capacity in the less competitive states. EPSCoR has grown from a one-agency program of $1 million in 1979 to an eight-agency effort of $100 million in 1998. From the initial five states, EPSCoR has expanded to include 18 states and Puerto Rico. The 20-year record of EPSCoR constitutes the single most important example that exists in the post World War II history of U.S. government-science relations concerned with upgrading research capacity in less advantaged academic institutions and states. How EPSCoR has worked, or not worked, why and why not, are serious and legitimate questions. Lessons can be learned to improve future practice, not only in EPSCoR, but in other areas where science building is at issue. EPSCoR was not intended as an entitlement, but rather as a catalyst. The interesting question of science policy is the degree to which the states—in reality, individuals and groups within the states—seized the opportunity, and what they did with it. 1. APPROACH Our approach argues that leadership in the states is the key driver of change through EPSCoR. While success and failure may be recorded in numbers, such as dollars and cents, these numbers tell little about how and why. What makes EPSCoR particularly fascinating is that it illuminates entrepreneurial leadership. This is a vital type of human behavior that has to do with developing people, institutions, and even states. Entrepreneurial leaders are usually reformers at heart, not content with the status quo. To understand state response to EPSCoR is to explore entrepreneurial leaders and their strategies for change. The EPSCoR entrepreneur is an actor in a state, playing a role in a social system. As a role, it can be filled by an individual, group, organization, or network of people. The entrepreneur deals with other players in the process of building state science: (1) universities; (2) business; (3) state government; and (4) federal funding agencies. To get more federal research money, the goal of competitiveness, the EPSCoR entrepreneur builds a coalition of these other actors around the enabling goal of state capacity to compete. That may require universities to change, business to change, state government to change, federal funders to change, and the entrepreneur to change along with them. Since these other actors have different, even inconsistent stakes, it is hard to get them around a common interest in state science building. It can take as much creativity to inspire and sustain a coalition for change as it does to develop physical hardware. Thus, in examining state response, we use concepts such as entrepreneur and coalition. The third concept is that of change. The notion of change suggested here is a conscious, directed process, by which EPSCoR states adapt over time to their environments. A great deal has happened during the period studied, 1979-1999. Whatever else EPSCoR entrepreneurs do, they must have strategies that enable states to adapt to a more complex and uncertain state and federal funding environment. Otherwise, EPSCoR states do not advance in competitiveness; they actually may fall further behind others. We have not had the resources or time to study all 18 EPSCoR states plus Puerto Rico. Hence, generalizations are based on studies of eight states: Alabama, Mississippi, Montana, Oklahoma, Maine, Arkansas, South Carolina and Kentucky. These states were chosen to represent a range geographically. However, there was also the intent to select states with a long history in EPSCoR; hence, four of the original five states were included and the last two states to come into EPSCoR were not. In addition, we studied two non-EPSCoR states that have progressed in competitiveness relatively recently: Arizona and Georgia. These latter states provide role models for science development. Subsequent sections of this paper deal with the EPSCoR entrepreneur, the building of a four-party coalition for change and lessons from the EPSCoR experience for science policy in general.
To understand EPSCoR in the states, it is essential to know about the Program’s origin. As indicated, EPSCoR was initiated at the behest of Congress. What the congressional impetus did was give emphasis to the value of representativeness in states. That congressional desire had to go through NSF, an organization with different values, and it was not easy to get EPSCoR initiated. Atkinson had to plead his case for the program to the National Science Board (NSB), his governing body, which rejected EPSCoR in its first vote in 1978. To get a reversal, which was obtained, EPSCoR had to reflect certain NSF values—merit, with the emphasis on an institution, the university. Embracing combined values, EPSCoR was established as a sheltered program, outside the mainstream NSF divisions. It would represent states which were selected according to various criteria of noncompetitiveness. At the same time, EPSCoR would involve competition and peer review. Have-not states would compete with one another and there would be winners and losers. The key institution to be upgraded within the state was to be the university, the home of science. In getting NSB acceptance of EPSCoR, Atkinson made it clear that while NSF would help, primary responsibility for reform rested within the states. As further developed by staff in NSF, the evolution of state responsibility was linked with matching fund requirements, with match expected primarily from state government. Universities in EPSCoR states were generally state-supported institutions, and NSF wanted states as partners. NSF felt universities could not be upgraded unless state interest in science was enhanced. By the time EPSCoR finally emerged from NSF decision processes, it embodied many different considerations, some mutually inconsistent. This was due to the fact that it was driven by Congress and only reluctantly approved by NSF. The troubled birth meant ambiguity as to goals and ambivalence as to means. At the individual state level, the value conflict meant that an EPSCoR entrepreneur would constantly struggle to find the right balance between representativeness (the whole state) and merit (the best science). He or she would have to try to induce state governmental responsibility for its own science enterprise by obtaining matching funds. Thus, the money of EPSCoR was sheltered, but hardly free of strings. Leadership at the state level mattered from the outset thanks to the rules by which the EPSCoR game was to be played. This was not a typical NSF grant program by any means. For example, there would be only one EPSCoR proposal from a state. That meant universities that wished to participate and traditionally were rivals would have to cooperate. Who would supply the internal leadership? NSF really did not know. It provided planning grants and set up initial committees composed of people it selected based largely on word of mouth. It sought "movers and shakers" and because EPSCoR was a state program, it chose initial leaders from academic, business, and state government, i.e. a cross-section of state actors. With these three inside actors and the outside actor, NSF, EPSCoR embodied the idea of a collective leadership. Once the grants for implementation were provided in 1980, the coalitional model was partially formalized in accord with NSF design. Leadership of EPSCoR would vest in a State Committee and Project Director. The State Committee would be the equivalent of a Board of Trustees. It would set general policy and would have a chair and members drawn from government, business, and the university sectors. Part-time, the State Committee would select the Project Director, who would serve as chief executive officer for EPSCoR implementation. The Project Director would manage EPSCoR day-to-day. In 1980, a competition among the seven states with planning grants selected the first five EPSCoR states—Maine, Montana, South Carolina, West Virginia and Arkansas. Having set the program in motion, NSF mostly got out of the way, and mainly let the states drive the process thereafter. NSF did not disappear, of course, since it remained a dominant funder whose support was needed. It was also the proverbial "gorilla in the closet" that could intervene as required. Nevertheless, NSF wanted to have the locus of leadership in the states. When EPSCoR was extended and enlarged in the mid 1980s and early 1990s to the program of 18 states plus Puerto Rico seen today, that growth did not alter the basic policy questions posed at its origins. How were values of representativeness and merit to be balanced? How were geographical and institutional imperatives to be combined? What were the respective state and federal responsibilities for the program? How long would EPSCoR survive politically? How long would be necessary to accomplish its competitiveness mission? The original duration was five years. That proved unrealistic, both substantively and politically. But the ambiguity of judging success in EPSCoR, and when it would be attained, endured. How questions and issues surrounding EPSCoR were to be answered depended mainly on the dynamics of leadership at the state level. The framework NSF established at the outset—State Committee/Project Director—contained the concept of a coalition of interests. But those interests had to be assembled, nurtured, and used. Who would do that? How? Why? The answers to those questions were unclear at the outset of the program and are still a puzzle in some ways in EPSCoR 20 years later.
Who was to be the EPSCoR entrepreneur was not obvious, but what the EPSCoR entrepreneur had to do in order to be effective was clear from the start—he or she had to build a coalition of at least four parties (two levels of government, business, and the universities) around the ambiguous and uncharted goal of state science development. Selecting a Leader What EPSCoR participants learned early was that it was not always easy to select the "right" leader for the task. For example, in Mississippi, a particular individual sought to play the EPSCoR entrepreneur role at the outset. He was a good scientist at a Mississippi university and also politically well-connected. He had helped obtain federal and state funds to set up a nonprofit organization concerned with technology transfer. On paper, he looked good, especially from outside Mississippi. Inside, the picture was different, and the top research officers of three key Mississippi universities—University of Mississippi, Mississippi State, and Mississippi Southern—did not trust his motives. The lack of cooperation and general disarray that suspicion caused, made it virtually impossible for Mississippi to compete within EPSCoR much less nationally. The first time the state tried for an EPSCoR grant, it failed. It literally could not get its act together. Later, when the first EPSCoR entrepreneur was displaced by the three research officials mentioned above acting as a group, Mississippi produced a good EPSCoR proposal, was admitted to the program, and has continued to do relatively well within EPSCoR thereafter. Alabama also got off to a rocky start owing to the man chosen to lead its EPSCoR effort. The State Committee, composed primarily of universities accustomed to rivalry rather than mutual help, selected a highly regarded researcher from outside the state as entrepreneur. However, this young potential star could not get his own university on his side, much less others. When he did not receive tenure, he was replaced by an insider, a researcher and academic administrator, known and respected in Alabama, who proceeded gradually and somewhat quietly to exercise the role of EPSCoR entrepreneur. Alabama was able to switch in time, but Maine, in its first round, never could find the right individual to serve as leader. There were two key research institutions involved in the original Maine project at the start of EPSCoR—the University of Maine and Bigelow Laboratory for Ocean Sciences, a nonprofit research organization. An individual from Bigelow wanted to take charge, but he was not favored by people from the university, who thought he would run the program to help Bigelow, not the university, much less the state. The university, however, did not have anyone able or willing to take charge. The Vice President for Research (VPR), nominally in charge from the university’s perspective, was at first opposed to the university’s even being involved in EPSCoR, lest it be labeled a remedial institution. He left the University of Maine not long after the grant came through. A businessman on the State Committee, presumably neutral in the Bigelow-university rivalry, became EPSCoR entrepreneur by default. He also left the state while the EPSCoR project was still underway. Maine never did get the required match, and was publicly called a failure by NSF in the first round. When revived in 1988, the Maine program was under new management—a state science and technology agency. Other states have also had problems getting started, owing to leadership selection. Finding the right match between a leader and a set of diverse, historically conflicting, institutions was exceedingly difficult. Fortunately, the various states, sooner or later, found someone or some group that was able and willing to play the EPSCoR entrepreneur role. The key issue that came up over and over again in selecting the early leaders—assuming they had a basic level of ability—was "trust." All of a sudden, traditionally needy states had money on the table. Who would get what part of this money? How? Trust often went along with choosing a known insider rather than unknown outsider to the state. That was a lesson Alabama learned. However, Kentucky chose an outsider for an EPSCoR entrepreneur, John Connolly, after its first leader departed the state, and Connolly has succeeded as leader of the NSF program in Kentucky. Perhaps the lesson here is that he was closely linked into an entrepreneurial partnership with Wimberly Royster, a former University of Kentucky VPR who now presides over all federal EPSCoR activities in the state from a base in a science and technology agency. A veteran science administrator, Royster is known in his state as "Mr. Kentucky science." In Kentucky, says Royster, "knowing people is the story." Royster knows Kentucky, and Connolly, formerly an NSF official, knows the federal funding world. The combination of Royster and Connolly seems quite effective, exemplifying an inside-outside model of enterpreneurship. As EPSCoR has expanded and prospered, it has also become more complex. EPSCoR entrepreneurship has consequently become increasingly complicated. What one person might have done in the 1980s, requires two or more in the 1990s. In Oklahoma, in the 1990s, a dual leadership has emerged between Lee Williams, Associate Dean of Geosciences in the University of Oklahoma who is project director, and Hans Brisch, head of the State Regents for Higher Education and Chair of the State Committee. Williams deals mainly with the science of EPSCoR, Brisch with its state institutional politics. Together, they are more effective than either would be working alone. To strengthen the connection, Williams has two hats: Project Director of Oklahoma, EPSCoR, and Director of Science and Technology Research for the Oklahoma Board of Regents. Leadership Styles Leadership styles have varied enormously within EPSCoR. Three basic styles have been seen—directive, consensual, and passive. A directive style is the most top-down in form. The EPSCoR entrepreneur knows what he or she wishes to accomplish and moves ahead implementing a particular course of action. James Durig, as Project Director and Chair of the State Committee in South Carolina in the 1980s, was a prototypical directive leader. When EPSCoR came to South Carolina, he was already engaged in building up the University of South Carolina School of Science and Mathematics, of which he was Dean. Backed by an ambitious and strong president, Durig had a pre-existing science development strategy and hit the ground running, using EPSCoR to reinforce that strategy at his own institution. He shared EPSCoR funds beyond his school, and with the other universities, but Clemson, in particular, felt Durig gave first priority to his own domain. Durig is accorded credit for considerable achievement at the University of South Carolina. However, when Durig left, South Carolina EPSCoR reacted by establishing a different leadership model—the consensual model. The consensual model is one where there is proactive leadership, involving initiative from key administrators, but it involves less concentration of power in one person or institution, or at least the perception of concentration. Power is visibly shared, and there is much greater attention given to participation and consensus building in decision making. Within the consensual model, there can be considerable variation, to be sure. Bill Sibley was a consensus-building EPSCoR entrepreneur in Oklahoma in the 1980s, but projecting a strong vision of what the larger group was to achieve. Lee Williams, an EPSCoR entrepreneur in Oklahoma in the 1990s, evinces more a participative approach. One who knew his style well called Williams "an interactive leader. He’s hands-on, a team player. He shares power. He enhances other people." Also, as noted, the State Committee Chair is a strong personality in his own right. Both, however, are coalition-building leaders by nature. Directive and consensual styles can both be effective, depending on times, places and possible opposition. Not so the next model. The third is the passive model, where the EPSCoR entrepreneur is really only barely in charge—if he or she is in charge at all. Here the leader does not lead but reacts. Often the leader is complacent or fails to adapt to a new set of circumstances internal or external to his state. Whatever the reason for failure in leadership, the result is clear—drift in the program and inability to perform in a competitive manner. States where the EPSCoR entrepreneur is passive rather than active fail to move forward. They are a source of frustration to others in their states and NSF in Washington. Transitions Because leaders change and because a certain style may be productive at one point in a program’s development, but not at another, the subject of leadership transition is critical. After the proactive Sibley departed Oklahoma EPSCoR, an individual took his place who gave a minimal amount of time to EPSCoR. He was a retired businessman and being an EPSCoR entrepreneur was not his top priority. When Williams was brought aboard as this man’s replacement, he was told he had to do something to "revitalize" EPSCoR in Oklahoma. The sense of drift was clear in Oklahoma and in Washington. Perhaps an even more striking example of transition problems can be found in Arkansas. In the 1980s, there was a dynamic relationship among individuals in various strategic positions in the state that worked to EPSCoR’s advantage. Dave Straub, an energetic and highly respected researcher/research administrator, was Project Director. He provided the state able entrepreneurial leadership. The governor, Bill Clinton, was interested in science and technology. On the State Committee was Ray Thornton, the former congressman who had been instrumental in EPSCoR’s birth, and who had returned to his native state to serve as president of a university system in Arkansas. Also intimately involved was John Ahlen, head of a science and technology agency and science advisor to the governor. The outcome for EPSCoR was a very strong base of support. As the 1990s got underway, Arkansas lost three of the four leaders mentioned. Ahlen remained. To his credit, Ahlen was able to keep EPSCoR going in terms of maintaining Arkansas political connections. He obtained the match via the science and technology agency he headed as governors came and went. However, there seemed to be no one able to fill the gap Straub had left insofar as the academic research side of the EPSCoR coalition was concerned. Indeed, as the 1990s evolved, the Arkansas coalition unraveled and various actors pointed fingers at one another as cause of the malaise. Also, a serious split occurred between NSF and Arkansas. In the late 1990s, NSF and a number of new state leaders, sensing crisis, worked to bring the Arkansas program back from the brink. The State Committee and project leadership were restructured, and there was hope that the state had turned the corner following years of lost momentum. In some states, transition in leadership has been smooth. Nevertheless, what Arkansas and, to a lesser extent, Oklahoma, show is how fragile is leadership in the EPSCoR states. There are only so many significant players, particularly those with a large vision for the research enterprise. Since NSF assumes that progress is taking place, with proposals improving one round to the next, gaps in state leadership usually wind up costing the state in NSF and other federal awards. States need to plan for transition, grooming successors ahead of time and some states have done or are doing so. There are always going to be losses of leaders, sometimes abruptly. Mississippi created a model of collective leadership involving a group of academic research administrators from around the state. When the core member of the group, Ralph Powe, died, Mississippi suffered a setback. However, the collective leadership structure survived, and Mississippi has gone on. The broader the base of leadership, the more likely the recovery from any given loss. To be sure, collective leadership takes more time and where those involved disagree and spar, decision making can be delayed. However, the Mississippi case shows how a group that institutionalizes a particular structural approach can withstand great stress when a key person goes. Resources The emphasis in this chapter has been on individuals or small groups of leaders, and there is no question that building competitive science requires able people with a long-term dedication and institutional ambition. But it also requires resources with which to build. No matter how able the entrepreneur, he or she can do only so much with the resources provided by NSF, or other agencies. Such resources can go further and have more impact in some EPSCoR states than others. The less competitive the state—the less research money it has from Washington in general—the more leverage the infusion of EPSCoR money can have. However, money is then applied to a situation that may be less capable of making good use of the funds. Within the EPSCoR universe of 18 states and Puerto Rico, there are levels or leagues of competitiveness. At one end are states like Alabama, Oklahoma and Kansas—big states with universities possessing considerable strength independent of EPSCoR. At the other end are states like those in the western mountains, large in geography, small in population. Maine, in the east, has only one Ph.D. granting university, and has suffered a poor economy for years. The relative absence of population, universities, and business development puts certain EPSCoR states at a disadvantage no matter who is EPSCoR entrepreneur. Also, some states have a history of indifferent or dreadful political leadership, at least from the standpoint of science and technology policy. An EPSCoR entrepreneur must play the hand that is dealt him—or relinquish the role of EPSCoR entrepreneur. An EPSCoR entrepreneur has little choice but to try. Quietly or vociferously, his job is to issue the call to others to do better. The goal to make these states truly competitive in a national sense may be unrealistic in certain cases, given their extreme lack of resources. However, some progress is possible, even in the least competitive states. How much improvement takes place depends on the context in which the entrepreneur operates. It also depends on funds he can get externally and internally. And it depends on strategies he employs to get other institutions aboard his coalition for change. The aim is to move a state to a higher level than that at which he found it.
The focus of building science is the university or university system of a state. How does the EPSCoR entrepreneur reform a university, bring an institution that is not a research university into that category, or raise a low-ranked research university to a higher rank? There are a variety of strategies that are followed. Viewed as a whole, the EPSCoR journey has been one that has emphasized three academic science strategies in succession: (1) individual support; (2) cluster support; and (3) mainstream/co-funding support. An issue that has continued, whatever the overall strategic emphasis, has been that of relations between so-called flagship universities and regional institutions in a state. It has to do with which institutions to enroll, to what extent. It is the "EPSCoR within EPSCoR" question, i.e. how to avoid undue concentration of resources in one or two universities within an EPSCoR state. Individual Support The individual-support approach was emphasized by NSF at the outset of the program and most EPSCoR states followed suit to one degree or another. NSF told Montana that if it could graduate four or five individuals to national competitive status, that would be a mark of success. Gary Strobel, the EPSCoR entrepreneur at the time, cast his net extremely broadly, probably more broadly than any other EPSCoR entrepreneur. In seeking the best individuals, wherever they were, he supported an unheralded researcher named Jack Horner. This individual had few academic degrees, but interesting ideas. In spite of NSF advice, Strobel pushed Horner as one of his individuals to be supported. Horner gained scientific and public notoriety as a dinosaur-egg hunter, being the model for a book and movie, Jurassic Park. Strobel had reason to believe the individual-support strategy worked. In contrast, EPSCoR entrepreneur Durig in South Carolina focussed on individual support combined with a departmental strategy. He emphasized using EPSCoR to hire bright young faculty in key departments in his School of Science and Mathematics. He modeled his approach on a Science Development Program strategy that NSF had used in the late 1960s and early 1970s. This NSF program was not state-oriented, but university-oriented. It selected universities with key departments on the verge of national competitiveness. The aim was to help these departments "over the hump" through external support. One of the universities helped by the Science Development Program was the University of Arizona and its Department of Astronomy. Durig believed his strategy suited the relatively greater scientific maturity of his state vis-à-vis Montana. He believed his strategy worked for South Carolina. Clusters The departmental approach was akin to the cluster strategy, which came next as an overarching strategy in EPSCoR, but the concept of the cluster was intended by NSF to be broader than a department. Indeed, it conveyed an interdisciplinary approach that might have even involved multi-institutional arrangements. There had been cluster approaches in certain states prior to its becoming favored policy by NSF in the late 1980s and early 1990s. But once NSF made clear the rules were different, all the states changed. One problem with the individual support strategy was that an individual might well graduate not only from EPSCoR but also from the state. That happened, for example, in Alabama, which lost a young "star" researcher involved in superconductivity. Developing a field was a niche strategy to which many departments which were not strong individually could contribute. If individuals left, others would be there, the field would survive, and that would benefit greatly a university or state trying to gain a reputation. The cluster strategy required more topside policy and management than one that supported individuals. State Committees and Project Directors were obliged to identify broad areas of research of interest to the state. Projects were proposed by investigators that were in support of those niches. Also, because clusters entailed possible cooperation, a group leader role emerged within EPSCoR. That role enlarged in the 1990s, when EPSCoR expanded to many agencies. A group leader became a head for not only a particular research cluster, but often for research under a particular agency—NSF or another. The cluster-niche strategy benefited regional universities such as the University of South Alabama, which wanted to build a coastal marine sciences field. NSF initially turned down the part of Alabama’s proposal containing South Alabama’s project, but Alabama EPSCoR supported South Alabama with internal funds until it could show progress. It then was admitted to the regular EPSCoR fold. Cluster strategies required EPSCoR entrepreneurs to "pick winners," a capacity some scientific notables outside the EPSCoR world saw as high risk. Kentucky in the 1980s was advised by a prestigious outside advisory committee not to invest substantially in the high performance computer field. The message seemed to be that Kentucky could not possibly compete with the bigger players in this area. Moreover, Kentucky’s existing knowledge base did not look promising. Computer science in Kentucky was "troubled," said the Advisory Committee to Kentucky EPSCoR. Kentucky stuck to its guns, recruited an outsider with computer science credentials and contacts, and eventually proved the experts wrong. It did take, however, a decision not just by the University of Kentucky, but by the state government, given the required investment in supercomputer technology, as well as other resources, to compete. All states can show examples of success and failure in cluster strategies. There were two strategies that applied in choice of niches. One strategy, like that of University of South Alabama in coastal marine sciences, or Maine in wood science, was to go with "natural advantages"—where geography or natural resources argued in favor of this or that emphasis. This was a strategy leaders of the University of Arizona had followed earlier in building up the atmospheric sciences, astronomy, and optics. Another, as in Kentucky with computers, was to go where the state entrepreneurs thought the country was going. Decisions were made to strengthen a key university in the state so it could be a focal point of that state’s role in an emerging field. This was a higher risk, higher expense "national priority" strategy. Mainstreaming/Co-Funding In the late 1990s, in line with experience, the basic NSF approach in EPSCoR policy changed again. Now, the aim was mainstreaming. Mainstreaming had always been the goal of EPSCoR, and indeed certain tough-minded state EPSCoR entrepreneurs, such as Ken Pruitt in Alabama, had insisted that after a period of protection in EPSCoR, particular individuals or clusters that did not become nationally competitive be dropped from support. However, NSF, looking at the whole rather than the parts, saw problems with support of clusters under EPSCoR. Some EPSCoR entrepreneurs were not as aggressive in pushing for graduation of individuals and/or clusters as NSF would have liked. If support went to clusters, over a relatively long time, in the interest of building a niche, some individuals within those clusters might try to make a career out of EPSCoR and not even look for funds in the mainstream. Hence, in 1998, NSF introduced its mainstreaming/co-funding strategy. There was trepidation in the EPSCoR community when it was announced. But where there is risk, there is also the chance of greater reward. Key to mainstreaming was the co-funding concept. NSF divided its program funds into two parts. One part consisted of infrastructure grants—e.g. equipment, start-up packages for new faculty, attempts to involve minorities in the program, and the like. For research, states hereafter would have to go to the regular divisions of NSF. The second part of EPSCoR’s funding was for co-funding research grants with the regular divisions. The Director of NSF had required a certain amount of funds to be spent by the divisions in co-funding. Co-funded grants were for those proposals from individuals or groups within an EPSCoR state whose proposals were certified by the state EPSCoR director as in line with the state EPSCoR research strategy. The aim was to wean EPSCoR researchers away from a dependence on EPSCoR and get them to compete in the larger world of NSF funding. Co-funded grants were those deemed just below the top-rated proposals considered by the regular divisions. If an EPSCoR proposal happened to get that top-rating, it would be supported in total as a regular grant by the division in question. Under co-funding, EPSCoR states could receive more money than they might get under EPSCoR alone. It remained to be seen how well the new policy would work out, but NSF has called early results promising. Whatever else, co-funding has prevented complacency in the EPSCoR states, and forced EPSCoR entrepreneurs to adapt. The new strategy does not end the cluster or individual strategy. It subsumes them under the mainstreaming/co-funding approach. Moreover, EPSCoR retains its state-based flavor. Co-funding is possible only for proposals certified by the EPSCoR state, and matching is still required, at least for the infrastructure awards. Inter-university Relations One of the strategic issues with which the EPSCoR entrepreneur has had to cope throughout the history of the program has been the question of which universities to enroll. This is the "EPSCoR within the EPSCoR" problem. In any given state, there are research universities and non-research universities. Within the research university category, there are differences in quality. At the beginning of EPSCoR, the relation among universities in many states was one of intense rivalry—coupled with insecurities on the part of some institutions. There was a point early in Kentucky’s history when the regional universities united against UK and Louisville, the research universities, to prevent their getting a match for certain EPSCoR money, lest EPSCoR contribute to widening the gap between haves and have-nots in that state. Louisville may be regarded a "have" by regional universities, but it sees itself at a disadvantage vis-à-vis the University of Kentucky. The advent of EPSCoR in the many federal agencies has helped to mollify unrest in some states in that there is more money to be shared. Also, an informal division of labor can be maneuvered by EPSCoR entrepreneurs in which NSF supports basic research in the flagship universities and the mission agencies support more applied research in others. The NSF rules—one proposal to EPSCoR from a state, with matching money—tend to dampen, although not remove, internal rivalries, since there is little choice but to combine efforts to get EPSCoR awards. In some states, it has proven difficult to get a united front. The University of Montana has historically regarded the state’s EPSCoR program as dominated by Montana State, with itself a secondary player. The reasons, at least in part, may have lain with the passive style of the EPSCoR leadership at the University of Montana. Whatever the reason, the result has caused frustration within the state and concern at NSF. In Mississippi, an example of relative harmony, the Vice Presidents for Research formalized their cooperative relationship through a Mississippi Research Consortium. There is joint planning and joint implementation for EPSCoR and other science ventures, and the VPRs act as a collective science advisor to the governor. Nevertheless, the mainstreaming/co-funding strategy may contain seeds for discord. There will be winners and losers, unavoidably bringing into sharp relief differences among EPSCoR states and within EPSCoR states. Moreover, to the extent a state does wish to compete for national research prizes, such as NSF’s Engineering Research Centers, it would seem likely that EPSCoR entrepreneurs will attempt to build critical mass in the strongest institutions—a classic science strategy. All of which is to say that no matter what academic science strategy is pursued—individual, cluster, or mainstreaming/co-funding—enduring issues of balancing excellence and equity will not go away.
`In 1998, EPSCoR devoted its annual conference to the subject, "Engaging Business." From the standpoint of the EPSCoR entrepreneur, getting business aboard the EPSCoR coalition has been extremely problematic. This is in large part because many EPSCoR states do not have a highly developed business sector, at least one attuned to science and technology. What is most notable from a review of the EPSCoR record is the gap of business leadership in an EPSCoR coalition. What is found is that there have been two ways EPSCoR entrepreneurs have typically engaged business: as a symbolic token and as an ally. A study of two non-EPSCoR states, Georgia and Arizona, however, reveals a third way business could be engaged in science building. This is as the driver, with business playing the entrepreneurial role itself. What follows is a general discussion of the various roles business can play, beginning with the one with least impact. Token This is the minimalist role. It goes back to EPSCoR’s beginning. NSF understood business should be involved and encouraged EPSCoR states to include business on the State Committees. NSF, however, is a university-oriented agency and EPSCoR is a university-oriented program, even while it is a state endeavor. Hence, there was no signal that business was more than a token priority. Given all the problems associated with upgrading universities in EPSCoR states, business seemed to be an afterthought of EPSCoR entrepreneurs in many instances. Consequently, in most EPSCoR states, for a very long time, business representatives were included on State Committees, largely for symbolic purposes, but not to set the tone in policy. Driver At the other extreme is the maximalist role, where business does set the tone and indeed is the driver behind science and technology in a state. That role has been played rarely in EPSCoR and not particularly well. In Maine, at the outset of EPSCoR, a businessman came to lead the effort from the base of the State Committee. He did not get the match, as he said he would, and in fact left the committee and state, getting Maine off to an unfortunate beginning. In Oklahoma, after Sibley departed, a retired businessman held the reins of EPSCoR for a while but was soon replaced by an academic leader. The fact is that EPSCoR is focussed on academic reform, and the presumption is in favor of academic leadership. However, Georgia and Arizona represent an alternative model and this model does raise the possibility that reform of the university can be propelled on occasion by business. What is interesting about Georgia is that, in the 1980s, businessmen decided that if their state was to compete for the largest prizes in science and technology—they had just lost the Microelectronics and Computer Consortium (MCC) state competition to Texas—they had to upgrade their universities. The institutions regarded as most critical—Georgia Tech, Emory, and University of Georgia—were already rated highly, but they had to be even better, given the ambition of the businessmen. Two real estate developers and a range of other business executives, mainly from Atlanta, led the formation of an alliance of top CEOs and university presidents (the three universities mentioned above plus three others, all in the Atlanta and northern region of the state). Called the Georgia Research Alliance (GRA), this body came into existence in 1990, supported by private funds. One of GRA’s first moves was to strike a bargain with the man who would be governor, Zell Miller, while he was a candidate. Over the next eight years, GRA spearheaded a forceful drive to move Atlanta area universities to a stronger position nationally. GRA’s tone was set by the business leaders. Its strategy was to build a critical mass of talent in the chosen universities by importing academic stars. These individuals would be at the cutting edge of economically-relevant emerging technologies, such as biotechnology and communications. With government and business support, GRA orchestrated a "raid" on more highly ranked universities outside Georgia. Money was the tool used to attract top academics. GRA made clear that it was not engaged in a social program, but an economic program. That is, it was not interested in spreading the money much outside the Atlanta region. GRA’s strategy was to concentrate resources, build strength, and win a large return on investment. In Arizona, business was also the driver behind developing Arizona State University. In the late 1970s, a real estate magnate and his allies decided that the Phoenix area had a problem. It had attracted a number of large high tech firms and wanted more. However, these companies were frustrated that the university in their vicinity, Arizona State, was mediocre. The businessmen took their case to Governor Bruce Babbitt and got his support. Working with the university and Governor, they then launched a massive drive that began, symbolically, in 1980. In that year, the state legislature designated Arizona State for the first time a "research university." This was a designation that showed ambition, but was a misnomer in terms of reality. Simultaneously, a five-year plan for development was put in action. This plan was succeeded by a second five-year plan, and then a third. Overall, $100 million in public and private funds were raised to build "engineering excellence" at Arizona State. To a large degree, the entrepreneurs succeeded. While engineering was immensely strengthened, so also were the sciences and other fields. In 1994, as the third phase was ending, Arizona State achieved Carnegie I status, a category reserved for the principal research universities of the nation. These are two instances where university reform—significant upgrading—was led by external forces—business. It is noteworthy, in both cases, that the business drive had its locus in an urban area eager to strengthen its position as a high tech center. Real estate men forged alliances with other business people, including high tech CEOs. Also, the efforts in both cases were sharply targeted in certain technical directions, with regional economic development clearly the motive. While EPSCoR states are largely rural, many do have cities and business elites with ambitions to compete economically in a big way. In many instances, however, the EPSCoR state’s flagship university and its rising economic center are in different places. For example, in Maine, the key EPSCoR university is in relatively isolated Orono; whereas, the principal urban economic growth opportunities are in Portland. The University of Southern Maine, located in Portland, is probably awaiting business entrepreneurs to launch a drive similar to those that have moved Georgia universities in the Atlanta area and Arizona State in the Phoenix area into a new league of research competitiveness. Ally Between business as token and business as driver is the role most EPSCoR entrepreneurs would no doubt prefer—business as ally. In this way, EPSCoR entrepreneurs get business support on their terms, rather than terms set by business—which, after all, has its own values, not necessarily those of universities or the state as a whole. There are examples in EPSCoR where business has been an ally of EPSCoR entrepreneurs in three ways. First, businessmen and women on state committees can help influence decisions on the best niches for the state to pursue. A niche decision can be based not only on national science trends, but also on economic potential to the state. In Maine, wood science is an economic priority—90 percent of the state is forests. Wood science is not on NSF’s list of national science priorities, but it is on Maine’s list of priorities. So is aquaculture, another area of enterprise. Business can help the EPSCoR entrepreneur choose and justify niches that provide some return to the state as well as nation. Second, business can be any ally of the EPSCoR entrepreneur as a co-funder. Alabama business has contributed over $1 million in areas of EPSCoR research that business has deemed relevant to it. These are not necessarily glamour fields—reclamation of garbage is an example—but they are important at the state and local level, and obviously of significance to the private sector. Third, business has been an ally of the EPSCoR entrepreneur in helping him or her build political support. This has come directly, as when the Chamber of Commerce of Portland testified on EPSCoR’s behalf when it was in trouble politically in that state in a dispute over matching money. Business was helpful indirectly in many states where business has helped change public attitudes by promoting science and technology generally as an engine of economic progress. If EPSCoR universities say they are relevant to this engine, they can appear self-serving. If business says academic research is useful to it, the universities gain credibility. EPSCoR entrepreneurs have noted the legitimization role business can play. The trend in EPSCoR has been to engage business more and more—less as token, more as ally, wary of business as driver. An interesting, but rare example of how business and academic values can be combined is found in Kentucky. The chair of the EPSCoR committee is an ex-professor at UK who left full-time teaching to become a high tech entrepreneur. He is also on an important advisory committee to the governor. This individual plays a critical role spanning the boundaries among the university, business and government.
EPSCoR’s founders wanted to evoke state commitment and sense of responsibility for EPSCoR and science and technology generally. They saw requiring a non-federal match as a means to get states to think about academic science and technology as an investment rather than expense, and induce a commitment. EPSCoR’s success in evoking state interest has been mixed, episodic, but on the whole more positive than negative. A state is not a monolith. EPSCoR entrepreneurs have dealt with four key state governmental actors: science and technology agencies; higher education commissions; governors; and legislatures. Each has presented a different set of challenges. Science and Technology Agencies Science and technology agencies, which are not present in all EPSCoR states, come in different forms. Some are wholly governmental, while others are organized as nonprofit entities. Whatever the form, their missions are broadly promotional of science and technology and sometimes they have programs that provide funds for research and technology. The main difference between science and technology agencies and EPSCoR is that science and technology agencies usually are creatures of the state and are oriented toward business and economic development, whereas EPSCoR is in large part a creature of Washington and its primary orientation is science (and university) development. Nevertheless, the science and technology agency and EPSCoR have potentially complementary missions. In practice, there have been three basic relationships that have been demonstrated between the two, which we characterize as disconnected, merged, and separate-but-linked. Disconnected means that there is no relation, either because an EPSCoR state has no science and technology agency, or if it does, no relation has been established between it and EPSCoR. A merged relationship is the opposite. Here the EPSCoR activity is a program of the science and technology agency. The head of the agency is expected to be an EPSCoR entrepreneur. Merged programs have been effective at times and not at other times. In Maine, the science and technology agency saved EPSCoR at one point, while at another, NSF felt EPSCoR had to be saved from the science and technology agency. The advantage of a merged relationship is that science and technology agencies can routinize the financial match-getting process and absorb much of the day-to-day detail work of EPSCoR. One disadvantage is that the science and technology agency, in taking over EPSCoR, risks pulling EPSCoR away from the university. Another is that academic people want autonomy, especially from state bureaucracies. Finally, NSF likes to work directly with universities, not through state agencies or other third parties. "Separate-but-linked" is a model that possesses some of the advantages of a merger, but without certain drawbacks. It allows for the science and technology agency to get the match, but the funds are passed through to the EPSCoR program, which is largely based at a university. Because the relationship is, for the most part, informal, the university can relate or not relate to a science and technology agency in accord with self-interest. There is little sense of a superior-subordinate relationship. The EPSCoR entrepreneur wants science and technology agency support without control. Boards of Higher Education In some states, EPSCoR entrepreneurs have their closest governmental relations with Boards of Higher Education. These bodies, which go by different names in different states, represent universities in general, rather than research universities. They are education, not science or economic development oriented. In a few EPSCoR states, the Boards get the state match and funnel it to university-based EPSCoR entrepreneurs. In Oklahoma, the relationship has worked out well, owing to the influence of the head of Oklahoma’s Board and his interest in EPSCoR. In South Carolina, the Board’s chair forced a restructuring in EPSCoR leadership that helped broaden not only leadership, but the program’s constituency in the universities and legislature. Because the Board represents higher education generally, it can be at odds with the interests of specific universities, and, to the extent the EPSCoR entrepreneur is the de facto advocate of research universities, this difference in orientation can be a problem. It is seen as a superfluous actor in decision making by some universities, or one more education than research-oriented. The key is the interest of the Board in building national research competitiveness in the state. The "separate-but-linked" model points up the fact that whether it is a science and technology agency or Board of Higher Education involved, EPSCoR entrepreneurship can be shared. There are political and scientific dimensions to the task of leadership and different individuals in different institutions can perform these two functions. However, those individuals have to communicate well, and closely coordinate their work, or the EPSCoR program suffers. Governors Governors, as the strongest elected officials in states, are potentially an EPSCoR entrepreneur’s most valuable supporters. Many governors in the 1980s and 1990s have adopted science and technology initiatives, and used them to political advantage. They like to look progressive and some have made national reputations as science and technology champions. While most back science and technology in the name of economic development, some are interested in higher education more generally. Whatever the reason, there is a list of governors who have done much for science and technology. In non-EPSCoR states, Zell Miller in Georgia, and Bruce Babbitt in Arizona, were pivotal. In EPSCoR, George Wallace in Alabama, Bill Clinton in Arkansas, Angus King in Maine, and Martha Layne Collins in Kentucky have been among those governors who have marched under the science and technology banner. Recently, Paul Patton of Kentucky has made science and technology and universities his priority. In 1998, he pushed through his legislature a $100 million challenge to UK and Louisville to improve fundraising for endowed faculty positions. If the universities came up with money, the state would match those dollars. It was just the beginning, the governor promised, calling his program, "Bucks for Brains." One aim, he said, was to move UK to a top 20 national research institution and Louisville to a major metropolitan-based research university by 2020. UK was ranked 46th among public universities in 1997/98. While these governors have usually emphasized state programs in science and technology, their overall interest in the subject has spun off to help EPSCoR. Ideally, one proactive governor would be succeeded by another. That succession was critical for North Carolina’s rise in science and technology. Luther Hodges was succeeded by Terry Sanford; later on came James Hunt. Each of these three governors made leadership in science and technology a priority, each building on an earlier governor’s legacy. However, what one governor supports, another who immediately follows may not. Sometimes a governor must rebuild before moving further. Alabama EPSCoR got off to a good start under Wallace, but later governors were less helpful, and one, Fob James, found political advantage in criticizing universities. Fife Symington, in Arizona, accused universities of ruining cultural values, and said they were "over funded." Many an EPSCoR governor has given science and technology great support in rhetoric, but little in money. There have also been governors in EPSCoR states who have had little awareness of what EPSCoR was. For EPSCoR entrepreneurs, governors are a challenge and frustration. They must seek access and influence and get the most from those governors who are on their side. When a governor comes on who is indifferent or hostile to science and technology or universities, the EPSCoR entrepreneur looks to the legislature. State Legislatures "A mile wide and an inch deep." That was how various EPSCoR entrepreneurs characterized legislative support for the program. Nevertheless, once underway, science and technology initiatives, EPSCoR included, are probably more affected by legislative forces than governors. This is because implementation takes money, not just one year, but year after year. Legislatures have played positive and negative roles in state EPSCoR programs. The Maine legislature saved EPSCoR at one point when the program and a governor were in conflict. However, when the legislature gave the University of Maine a budget increase in 1997, that was a rare occasion. During the 1990s, the university had known primarily budget cuts. There are ebbs and flows in legislative support over time for most EPSCoR states. Sometimes, as in Arkansas, a particular senior legislator with great influence takes on a "Mr. Science" role and becomes a longstanding ally of the EPSCoR entrepreneur. But such a strong advocacy role is rare. In fact, a problem that has bedeviled some EPSCoR entrepreneurs has been the advent of term limits in their states. They find that as soon as a legislator appreciates the value of EPSCoR, he or she is gone—and EPSCoR entrepreneurs must repeat a time-consuming and often frustrating educational process. Legislators, like governors, look at science and technology through a lens of economic development. A difference between the two that can be a problem for EPSCoR entrepreneurs, however, is the degree to which legislatures exert strong distributive pressures as the price of bestowing matching funds. Not all universities in an EPSCoR state deserve support according to merit principles. Legislators, however, see merit in distributing support widely—at least to their part of the state. In conclusion, it seems that EPSCoR entrepreneurs have had mixed results in dealing with politicians. Strategies can be direct (one-on-one) or indirect (through a Board of Higher Education or science and technology agency or some other go-between.) What politicians like to see are tangible results (ideally economic growth, jobs; but also simply more federal money brought into the state). It helps a lot if the EPSCoR entrepreneur can show connections between a legislator’s district and EPSCoR. At least one state has had "research days" for legislators. On these days, students were brought in for poster displays on what they are doing on research under EPSCoR. There was considerable publicity and legislators had the chance to pose with students in front of displays. Such a strategy helps demonstrate to legislators the political benefits to them from research and science education.
For the EPSCoR entrepreneur, the most visible evidence of success is more federal money, starting with NSF and extending to other federal agencies. There are a number of strategies by which the EPSCoR entrepreneur seeks to accomplish this feat: (1) augmenting proposal efforts; (2) learning more about NSF and the federal government; (3) establishing and using political connections; (4) going beyond NSF to other EPSCoRs; (5) going beyond EPSCoR—mainstreaming in general, winning the big prizes in particular; and (6) linking early to emerging national priorities in science and technology. Augmenting Efforts to Apply It was typical, when a young professor joined the faculty of a university in an EPSCoR state in the 1970s, to be advised not to bother to apply to NSF, to be told it was a waste of time. James Durig saw some truth to that admonition in his early years at the University of South Carolina. He received a review on one of his early proposals, in which "the reviewer said frankly that he thought it was a fantastic proposal, but. . . had very little chance of being done in a South Carolina environment." This kind of statement—which discouraged many academics in his state, but not Durig—diminished greatly the number of applications for funds from EPSCoR states. No proposals meant no funding. A defeatist attitude had to be changed and one of the first strategies of EPSCoR entrepreneurs was basic—simply to encourage, cajole and push researchers to try to compete, starting within the sheltered EPSCoR program. In the early days, mentoring sessions in proposal writing and other acts of grant-getting were necessary. Recipients of EPSCoR grants were pressed to try to graduate, as individuals and groups. Above all, EPSCoR entrepreneurs sought more proposals. Competing had to be made into a habit, and winning would come with practice. Establishing and Using Political Connections Interestingly, EPSCoR states were slow to use the political connections to Washington they already had. In the late 1980s, Erich Bloch, NSF Director, suggested at a national EPSCoR conference that they unite and lobby for EPSCoR and science generally. That they did, forming a consortium with a hired lobbyist. In short order, EPSCoR was extended in time and expanded across government. While working jointly on behalf of their overall interests, EPSCoR states also emulated their more competitive state brethren in seeking "earmarks" in the federal budget for specific projects. This, they were not supposed to do, as NSF saw EPSCoR as a way to ventilate pressures for ad hoc distribution and protect the principle of peer review. EPSCoR states, however, like non-EPSCoR states, found that politics could aid their individual interests, if not those of science-as-a-whole. Learning About NSF and the Federal Government Getting information on the market—i.e. NSF and other funding agencies—was another entrepreneurial strategy. In the 1980s, Joe Danek of NSF himself was a source of much information, as he traveled extensively about EPSCoR states. Increasingly, EPSCoR entrepreneurs carried out their own reconnaissance, coming to Washington on trips, talking to NSF program officers by phone, serving as peer reviewers and being peer reviewed, and increasingly staying alert to shifting funding priorities. One of the best ways for an EPSCoR entrepreneur or researcher to become informed about Washington and its funding policies was by coming to work at NSF for a year or so as a rotator. Some EPSCoR participants availed themselves of this opportunity. All these methods contributed to greater awareness of the funding world, initially the NSF EPSCoR world, later the broader funding environment. Going Beyond NSF to Other EPSCoRs Thus, EPSCoR entrepreneurs moved beyond NSF to embrace other agency EPSCoRs. As they did so, they enlarged the number of leadership positions in EPSCoR states. The group leaders of cluster research often became leaders for particular agency EPSCoRs—DOE, EPA, NASA, etc. They gained in awareness of those agencies, their needs, and mechanisms for providing funds. There was learning. Some states became quite adept in acquiring EPSCoR funds from across the government. Kentucky, Alabama, and a few of the other larger states did very well indeed, just within the federal EPSCoR world. With more agencies, there was more money, but also more paperwork and thus a growing bureaucratization of EPSCoR. Another problem of EPSCoR proliferation, at least for NSF, was the potential dilution of NSF’s basic science goals, as the states pressed more and more for mission agency support, which was often quite applied in orientation. EPSCoR entrepreneurs had to be cautious—they wanted more money, but not at the expense of good science—since the long-term goal was not to go beyond NSF EPSCoR to other agency EPSCoRs. Rather, it was to go beyond EPSCoR. Winning the Big Prizes Earlier, mainstreaming/co-funding was discussed in the context of general changes in EPSCoR academic science strategy over the years. Here the EPSCoR entrepreneur looks to funding from regular NSF divisions. An extension of mainstreaming is the seeking of even larger research prizes. While not an official strategy of NSF or a widespread approach of state entrepreneurs, the ultimate type of mainstreaming strategy is the acquisition of national research centers. These centers funded by NSF in engineering, materials research, and other areas, are won through national competitions and entail millions of dollars over several years. There have been a couple of EPSCoR states that have obtained national research centers independently of EPSCoR (Mississippi and Montana). In another instance, EPSCoR has been related in indirect ways. In 1994 and again in 1998, the University of Alabama Center for Materials for Information Technology was selected as a Materials Research Science and Engineering Center. The Center is independent of EPSCoR, but has received some EPSCoR funds. In 1998, two additional national research centers came to EPSCoR states: South Carolina and Kentucky. These are more closely coupled in their origins to EPSCoR than previous centers. Even so, the South Carolina case reveals a gradual, incremental, largely unplanned sequence of decisions. The process began in 1981 when a Clemson researcher received EPSCoR funding in fibers work. He continued largely independently of EPSCoR in the 1980s, building associations with other researchers, obtaining alternative funding. In 1992, he and others received EPSCoR funds specifically for a cluster focussed around fibers research. In 1995, NSF EPSCoR recommended strongly that the group apply for an Engineering Research Center grant. This, they did, somewhat reluctantly—after all—how could South Carolina compete for a national research center? However, they came close to winning. Encouraged, they now pursued the national research center with gusto, the university investing money to help. In 1998, on their second try, the group, which was led by Clemson, and included the University of South Carolina, was successful in winning an Engineering Research Center. In contrast, Kentucky was more direct and strategic in its approach. Its EPSCoR entrepreneurs believed the state had able researchers grouped around carbon-based materials research, but lacked a research star to bring out the right synergy in the group and raise it to a higher level of national competitiveness. Kentucky recruited Robert Haddon from Bell Laboratories to UK’s Chemistry Department to fill the gap. EPSCoR funding was the primary source of start-up money for Haddon when he set up his laboratory at the University of Kentucky. In 1998, with Haddon in the lead, Kentucky won a Materials Research Science and Engineering Center from NSF. While decision-making processes were different in the two states, the results were the same—victory—with EPSCoR playing the catalytic role NSF intended. Linking Early to New National Priorities Among of the reasons South Carolina and Kentucky were successful in 1998 were decisions made earlier. These included linking state priorities with emerging national priorities. Under the best strategy, that linkage takes place early, when the priority is emerging and there is room for the EPSCoR state to establish its claims vis-à-vis potential competitors. Sometimes, EPSCoR states have to push to be included in these new priority areas. In the early days of EPSCoR, less competitive states were generally unaware of national priorities. They suffered from intellectual as well as geographical isolation. Strobel spent part of Montana’s EPSCoR money just to bring scientific notables from far away to his university. Anyone who has traveled to EPSCoR universities becomes quickly aware how hard it is to get to some of them by air. Distances within some EPSCoR states—between universities—are often vast. Yet, in spite of geographical problems, the intellectual isolation issue is not as great as it once was. EPSCoR scientists are nationally peer-reviewed and doing peer reviews. Some are serving on federal science advisory committees. The emphasis the states are choosing to make in science direction reveals more and more sophistication in knowing which areas are the big ones emerging financially. The market strategies of EPSCoR entrepreneurs are keener. Symbolic of the EPSCoR states’ increasing attention to mainline science priorities has been the EPSCoR states’ drive to be included in the Next Generation Internet (NGI) initiative. This was a Clinton Administration plan to connect more than 100 universities and laboratories to a faster and higher capacity computer network. As the Next Generation Internet arrived as a new national priority, there was at first domination by prestigious universities in non-EPSCoR states. One EPSCoR university, Kentucky, was able to get under the tent in 1997, as the program began in earnest, but there was little prospect that many other EPSCoR universities would be included. EPSCoR entrepreneurs complained. More importantly, their legislative representatives in Washington complained. Soon, a few other states received NSF funds to be part of the Next Generation Internet, and by 2000, all the EPSCoR states are expected to be funded so they can be involved. EPSCoR entrepreneurs have come a long way from the days when they were isolated from the main currents of U.S. science. While they have come not as far as they might wish to be, they at least are moving forward in ways unprecedented. EPSCoR has made a difference in increasing both their scientific and political sophistication.
EPSCoR is a creation of Congress—an institution based around geography, not science. Science is inherently elitist, whereas Congress is organized around votes and representation. When EPSCoR was born, it was Congress’ attempt to tell NSF to make sure all the states participated in the scientific enterprise. Moreover, Congress thought in terms of "states" not "universities." It wanted states to participate while NSF, as an institution, is attuned to working primarily with universities. The implicit assumption in EPSCoR is that the state and university have fortunes that are joined. Raising a university will help raise the state, as a society, but a university, at least a state university, is not an island unto itself. It needs the state government to realize its potential. EPSCoR thus has mixed ends and means, and that ambiguous mixture reflects a marriage of congressional and NSF values. Those complexities also mirror an old debate. At the end of World War II, there was a controversy about how the U.S. government would support science. One model, the Vannevar Bush model, argued in favor of excellence based strictly on merit with peer review determining the best and brightest. The other model, proposed by Senator Harley Kilgore of West Virginia, called for an equity-based approach with all states getting a share of science support. The Bush model prevailed when NSF was born in 1950, the Kilgore legacy being the congressional admonition in NSF’s mandate to avoid undue geographical concentration of funds. EPSCoR is an attempt to adapt the Bush science policy model to include Kilgore political values: excellence and equity. As the "E" in EPSCoR declares, the program was intended to be an "experiment" in research policy. Has it worked? If so, why? If not, why not? Outcomes If the purpose of EPSCoR is defined as raising less competitive states to a point where they can compete on an equal plane with their wealthier brethren, then that goal has not been achieved. No one has "graduated" yet. If the goal is to raise them so they can compete better than they have in the past, then that goal has been met to a degree. A recent evaluation by COSMOS Corporation, sponsored by NSF, calls EPSCoR a "modest" success insofar as it has slightly increased the market share of federal R&D in the EPSCoR states. There is another goal whose success is more difficult to assess, however, that was part of the EPSCoR founders’ intent—to build a capability to sustain improvement and institutionalize that capability. One will not know except in hindsight, and without EPSCoR, whether such a "sustainable capability" has been fully developed. What is clear is that various states have done better or worse in terms of quantitative measures—the COSMOS approach of market share—and different states appear, on the basis of our analysis, to be making varying degrees of progress toward that sustainable capability to improve. Critical Factors in Success We have in our work stressed that behind success lies a mix of factors that includes leadership, coalition, and change. The dynamic relation among these three makes a difference in progress toward sustainable capability. With respect to leadership, what is important to stress, as a lesson learned, is that NSF did not create a huge, powerful entity capable of transforming a state from the top. Instead, it introduced, in the form of a state committee and project director, a potential entrepreneur or catalytic agent with limited resources whose skill in using those resources was critical for success both in raising market share and creating that sustainable capability. What stands out from a review of the record is that the EPSCoR entrepreneur represents a special interest called academic science, embedded in a larger interest called state economic development. NSF charged the EPSCoR entrepreneur to pursue greater scientific competitiveness, but sought to evoke state responsibility in the process. It did this by requiring non-federal matching and allowing only one proposal from a state. Those rules set conditions that aimed at federal-state cooperation in a common enterprise in science development. The state—i.e., state government—is not concerned with science per se, but using science for practical goals, especially economic development. Hence, the marriage of science development with economic development is critical to EPSCoR success. Indeed, such a marriage constitutes a state-level linkage of the Bush and Kilgore science policies, and of NSF and congressional orientations to science. It combines political and science values. To better link science and the state requires a four-party coalition, with three of the parties within the state. Ideally, those state interests—government, business, university—are represented on the state committee. To be effective, state committees have to include not only the relevant multiple interests, but representatives of those interests who have the stature to commit their institutions to a common enterprise. Also, to be effective, the EPSCoR committee and project director must communicate the special interest (i.e. raising academic science) in a way that relates to the broader state context. At a minimum, the EPSCoR entrepreneur cannot even appear to be a spokesperson for his or her campus. He or she is most effective when speaking for academic science statewide. Such a stance is difficult to strike since the very idea of a "state science" is ambiguous. Various models of EPSCoR entrepreneurship have been attempted, as in Oklahoma (the two-hat model) or Kentucky (the science and technology agency/university dual leadership approach) or Mississippi (the university consortium model). One EPSCoR entrepreneur, admitting the problems inherent in his role as a state science advocate, said that speaking for academic science in the state had made him an orphan in his own university. EPSCoR entrepreneurs based in a university clearly have to find a way to work effectively within one institution while serving the interests of many institutions. Otherwise, their careers can suffer rather than being enhanced by EPSCoR. EPSCoR entrepreneurs are not hierarchical (top down) leaders, but catalytic or entrepreneurial leaders. They succeed best in evoking state support when they work with others whose orientation is economic development, such as business. Since they have limited resources for influence, they have to be persuasive, and being persuasive requires showing results. The payoff for state match ideally would be jobs, or some other economic development indicator, but it can also be more federal research and development money for the state. These are tangible resources, and they matter in convincing others to invest in an enterprise. One EPSCoR entrepreneur told me his formula for coalition building was "opportunistic coordination of initiatives." Translated, that means that other players take initiatives for their own purposes and he joins with them, coopting them in support of his interest, as they seek to coopt him for their own. The aim of the EPSCoR entrepreneur is to make sure his interest in academic science gains rather than loses in the exchange. The emphasis is on a quid pro quo, coalition-building as a team concept in which all parties gain by advancing the collective cause. Entrepreneurial leadership is not "power over," but "power with," and it is power geared to strengthening institutions. In addition to leadership and coalition, the third concept that is critical as a factor in EPSCoR success is change—managed change. What is clear from the record is that the change process in states comes in spurts. This is the "opportunistic" aspect of entrepreneurial leadership. There has to be a long-term strategy in the mind of the entrepreneur; but he acts tactically when he can, in accord with opportunities. There are times when windows of opportunity appear, often associated with political change—i.e., a new governor. Political change can be a negative, since it leads to short-term time horizons of elected officials, and thus instability. However, political change and the turbulence that accompanies it can help when a new political actor comes onto the state stage. It is notable that in the Georgia case, the business-university coalition struck a deal with Zell Miller when he most needed support, before he was elected for his first term as Georgia governor. He came through afterward, giving remarkable backing to academic science in the Georgia interest. While taking advantage of windows of opportunities, the EPSCoR entrepreneur must see change as a marathon race, not a sprint. Indeed, it is helpful to even see it as a relay race, in which one entrepreneur does his best for a time, handing the baton on to someone else on the team to continue the next leg of the journey. Science development takes decades. Moreover, the change process is not necessarily continual, but filled with stops, starts and detours. The best for which any entrepreneur can hope is that he can reach a milestone and not stumble and fall along the way. The idea is to move, establish position, and then move ahead again as soon as possible, keeping the initiative. Success leads to further success. However, if there is a slip, then the EPSCoR entrepreneur must work to recover momentum. Sustainable capability for improvement requires linkage among players, an ever-growing coalition. Where capability is not sustained, the coalition shrinks and unravels. But where it is sustained, one can detect growth in the coalition and greater support for academic science. An EPSCoR entrepreneur who had spent time in North Carolina in the Research Triangle commented on the difference between that setting and his own in terms of the sheer number of entrepreneurs. He felt lonely, at times, at home, but in the other state, there were dozens of people like himself, all churning, cooperating and competing, creating a critical mass for action. As I have traveled the various EPSCoR states, I have also noted differences. There are some where there is a detectable restlessness. They are stretching for the critical mass that makes for sustainable accomplishment. The stirrings of ambition are present; the "can do" attitude emerging. One suspects the time may come for these places when the EPSCoR entrepreneurs will push for a conscious end to dependence on EPSCoR, if not for the state as a whole, then perhaps for the strongest university. NSF is beginning, with its new mainstreaming/co-funding initiative, to try to induce such behavior. After twenty years, EPSCoR still stands out as an experiment in science policy that unites Bush and Kilgore models. It may portend a model for the early 21st century. Science and technology is becoming less an exclusive tool of the federal government and more an instrument of the nation as a whole. The new model is much more complex than the old one. It allows for greater participation from domestic forces, including the states. The challenge for EPSCoR today is to further nurture, refine, and reinforce state interest, and to show that excellence in science and equity in geography are not incompatible, but mutually rewarding. There can be a state science policy, linked closely to federal science policy, rooted in a four-party model of institutional actors. Such a linkage can strengthen science, state, and nation in the new century. As always, what actually happens depends greatly on leadership. There is no invisible hand that guides the science development process. Rather, it is the conscious and careful hand of key players who are dissatisfied with the status quo and who want to make a positive difference. REFERENCES
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