Regarding MSU's Board of Trustees, it's no longer as simple as "throw them all out"

For years, one phrase has captured how many Spartans felt about Michigan State's Board of Trustees: "Throw them all out."

Given everything the university has endured - scandal, public infighting, leadership turnover, and years of governance drama - it wasn't an unreasonable reaction. When every headline seemed to feature another controversy, it became easy to view the Board as one dysfunctional body deserving one collective verdict.

But that is no longer an accurate description of where Michigan State finds itself.

Today's Board is not unified by a single philosophy or approach to governing. It has fractured into two competing camps with fundamentally different ideas about the role of a trustee, the responsibilities of oversight, and the path the university should take. With this fall's election approaching, the question is no longer who should serve on the Board, but which vision of governance should lead Michigan State.

The board has fractured into two distinct philosophies of governance. Whether you view the split as 5-3 or, functionally, 6-2, the debate is no longer about the Board of Trustees as a whole. It is about which vision for Michigan State's future should hold the majority.

The Democratic Party has renominated Board Chair Brianna Scott and Trustee Kelly Tebay. Meanwhile, Republican nominee Julie Maday has made no secret of where she stands philosophically, publicly aligning herself with the approach championed by Trustees Rema Vassar and Mike Balow.

Voters deserve to understand what those competing philosophies are before deciding which direction Michigan State should take.

The current governing majority has largely consisted of Scott, Tebay, Sandy Pierce, Rebecca Bahar-Cook, and Renee Knake Jefferson. On the defining governance disputes of the past year, Dennis Denno has generally voted alongside Vassar and Balow, creating what has effectively been a 5-3 split.

The Majority's Argument

The majority's argument begins with a simple premise: Michigan State has become difficult to govern.

They would argue that no university can consistently recruit and retain elite leadership if presidents, athletic directors, and senior administrators are forced to navigate constant public conflict with their own governing board. Boards should ask difficult questions, challenge assumptions, debate vigorously, and vote their conscience. But once the board acts, they believe trustees have a fiduciary obligation to move the institution forward rather than continually relitigating those decisions in public.

From their perspective, fiduciary duty is not owed to a political party, a constituency, or even an individual trustee's personal brand. It is owed to Michigan State University itself.

Supporters of this philosophy point to the university's recent history. Michigan State has cycled through multiple presidents in less than a decade. Every leadership transition delays momentum, complicates fundraising, affects recruiting, and creates uncertainty throughout the institution.

Whether one believes the Board was primarily responsible for Kevin Guskiewicz's departure or not, they argue that the perception of instability alone carries consequences. Universities compete nationally for leadership talent. Reputation matters.

Guskiewicz himself reinforced that distinction in his farewell message. While measured in his words, he expressed appreciation for those trustees who supported his vision for the university while making clear that others had made governing significantly more difficult. He did not portray the Board as eight trustees equally responsible for Michigan State's direction. Implicitly, he acknowledged that there were competing philosophies inside the boardroom.

The Minority's Argument

The minority sees the situation through an entirely different lens.

Vassar, Balow and those who generally align with them argue that trustees are independently elected by the people of Michigan, not appointed by the university president. Their primary responsibility, they contend, is oversight.

From that perspective, trustees should not hesitate to question contracts, financial decisions, executive actions, or university policy simply because doing so creates tension. If public disagreement becomes uncomfortable, they argue that is often the price of meaningful accountability.

Supporters of this philosophy worry that calls for "unity" can become calls for conformity. They believe recent efforts to strengthen board ethics expectations risk discouraging trustees from speaking publicly when they believe the administration or fellow trustees are headed in the wrong direction.

In their view, boards fail not because trustees ask too many difficult questions, but because they ask too few.

They would argue that universities have historically suffered when governing boards become overly deferential to presidents or senior administrators. Independence, even when messy, is part of the job.

Critics of that philosophy, however, argue there is an important difference between vigorous oversight and becoming adversarial toward the institution itself.

They point to Trustee Rema Vassar's lawsuit against Michigan State as an example. To supporters of Vassar, the litigation is a necessary step to vindicate what they believe are her rights as an elected trustee. To critics, it represents something far more troubling: a fiduciary of the university suing the very institution she is obligated to govern. They argue that once a trustee and the university become opposing parties in court, the line between independent oversight and institutional conflict becomes increasingly difficult to distinguish.

The Choice

Every governing board needs independent voices willing to challenge assumptions. Healthy organizations benefit from disagreement. No president should expect unanimous approval, and no trustee should be criticized simply for casting a dissenting vote.

Likewise, every governing board also needs trust. Presidents cannot effectively lead institutions if every major decision becomes a prolonged public battle. Donors, faculty, staff and prospective administrators need confidence that once decisions are made, the institution can move forward.

Both accountability and stability are essential, and this fall's election ultimately asks voters not to choose between them, but to decide which one Michigan State needs more at this moment.

Unfortunately, it is a choice that many voters may never realize they are making. Board of Trustees races are often afterthoughts, buried near the bottom of the ballot - and in some elections, they even appear on the back side, where a meaningful number of voters never make it. The Spartans who closely follow Board meetings, read agendas, watch debates and understand the competing philosophies of governance represent only a small fraction of the electorate.

Many voters will simply vote the party line. Others may cast ballots based on frustrations with Michigan State athletics, longstanding rivalries, or broader political grievances that have little to do with how the university should actually be governed. That reality also helps explain why independent campaigns for the Board face such steep odds. Convincing voters to look beyond party labels and engage with the substance of these races requires time, attention, and information - three commodities that are often in short supply by the time voters reach the Board of Trustees section of the ballot.

Still, broad frustration with the Board should not obscure an important reality. It is no longer accurate to treat every trustee as though they represent the same philosophy.

They don't.

Scott and Tebay are asking voters to continue a governing philosophy centered on institutional stability and collective governance. They are effectively asking voters to view the departures of both the university president and athletic director as evidence that the governance style advanced by Vassar and Balow has come at a significant cost to Michigan State.

Maday has indicated she would join Vassar and Balow in their belief that the Board's highest calling is aggressive, independent oversight, even when that creates conflict.

Vassar and Balow have already spent years making that case from within the boardroom.

Reasonable people can conclude that Michigan State's greatest need is greater stability. Others can conclude that stronger oversight is the better remedy.

What is becoming increasingly difficult to argue is that everyone on the Board represents the same philosophy.

They do not.

The upcoming election is not simply about replacing incumbents or expressing frustration with years of dysfunction.

It is about deciding which vision of governance should shape Michigan State's next chapter.

That is a far more consequential decision than simply saying, "throw them all out."