Dean’s dismissal prompts protest at university.
The founding dean at Regent University Law School is threatening a lawsuit after being fired. The school’s professors have asked the American Bar Association to investigate the dean’s ouster. And founder Pat Roberston has portrayed the resulting uproar at the institution as “stupid” rebellion.
With provisional ABA accreditation, a new $14 million state-of-the-art building, and a growing reputation as one of the best Christian law schools in the land, Regent Law in Virginia Beach appeared to be on the verge of something big.
It may still achieve the ambitious goals that Chancellor Robertson, also head of the nearby Christian Broadcasting Network, has set. But controversy has slowed the process and potentially delayed full accreditation.
In July, after seven years at the helm, dean Herbert W. Titus was fired. Robertson and the Regent board of trustees had offered Titus a golden parachute—a yearlong sabbatical off campus followed by a chance to be Regent’s first John Marshall Chair in Constitutional Law. Robertson said the offer included a raise and a $300,000 annual expense account. But Titus refused. He wanted personally to steer the school to full ABA accreditation.
Robertson and the board wanted a new direction and faster transition. Titus was ordered to clean out his desk under the supervision of a CBN security guard. The harsh treatment given a dean beloved by many students, faculty, and law alumni sparked confusion and anger. Some students printed T-shirts paraphrasing 2 Corinthians 2:13: “I had no peace of mind because I did not find my brother Titus there.” When a handful of students wore the shirts to a university picnic at Robertson’s home, they were reprimanded and told to leave.
Mum’s the word
No official reason was given for Titus’s ouster, though some board members referred to the slumping number of students passing their bar exams under the former dean (CT, Oct. 4, 1993, p. 63). Some school officials suggested—and the alumni association charged—that Regent was trying to present a more moderate image by dismissing a dean with a reputation as a conservative ideologue who used the Bible as a legal handbook, sometimes in controversial ways. For example, Titus says public schools and affirmative action violate biblical principles. Titus has refused to comment publicly about his dismissal.
According to school and ABA guidelines, deans can be dismissed for any reason. But Titus says he also was a full professor, teaching classes in common and constitutional law. The university says his teaching was merely supplemental to his primary role as administrator. The distinction is important because established professors must be given academic freedom and job security under ABA accreditation criteria. Titus, who has been paid his full salary since the removal, has requested to return to the classroom. The university does not want him on campus. If the issue cannot be worked out, Titus will sue, his lawyer says.
In September, eight of the law school’s fourteen full-time professors quietly filed a complaint with the ABA, asking the organization to investigate the issue of academic freedom and job security. If Titus could be fired, professors feared that they might be next.
Quick pick
Robertson accused the professors of rebellion. He quickly named lawyer and adjunct Regent professor J. Nelson Happy to be permanent dean, replacing interim dean Paul Morken, who was sympathetic to Titus. According to ABA standards, faculty members must have “a substantial degree of involvement in the selection of deans.” Those standards can be ignored, however, in an emergency. Regent faculty had little input in the choice of Happy and were surprised when Robertson announced his pick at a hastily called meeting. Board members had told faculty and students at a previous meeting that they would conduct a thorough search for a “world class” dean.
Robertson, a Yale law graduate and 1988 presidential candidate, said Happy would beef up the teaching of practical skills and make changes necessary to gain full ABA accreditation. He chastised the faculty for complaining to the ABA. “God can forgive sin, but stupid is forever,” Robertson said at a meeting of students and faculty. “And for people to act contrary to their own self-interest is stupid.”
Back on track?
Happy says “everything is on the right track” for Regent to attain full accreditation by August. He says the controversy may have helped by “drawing attention to the fact that the law school needs resources.” Since Titus left, the Regent board of trustees has agreed to double the physical space of the library, buy $250,000 in books, rewrite its tenure policy, increase salaries, and hire seven more professors, reducing the teacher student ratio to 17–1 from 27–1.
Since October, there have been few visible signs of dissension. Despite the apparent quiet, the faculty complaint and potential Titus lawsuit hang over Regent and its 300 law students like a dark cloud. Full accreditation could be delayed or denied if the ABA sees the controversy as a sign of instability or failure to follow proper procedures.
Terry R. Lindvall, new president of the entire graduate-level university of 1,400 students, characterized the issue as a “severe disagreement” between two men of God. “Reconciliation is always the goal of any kind of conflict,” Lindvall says. If the Titus dispute goes to court, “we deny one of the principles set forth in Corinthians.”
An original Regent faculty member in the School of Communications founded 16 years ago, Lindvall says the university had become “a little more militaristic and legalistic” in recent years and needed to shift back to its roots. He insists the adjustment is not a drift from biblical moorings.
“I think the original vision was that Christ would transform culture and education through Regent University,” says Lindvall. “For a while, for a season, we became Christ against culture. We became antagonistic to culture. We would confront it and damn it instead of coming to restore the people in the culture. If you change laws in society, you don’t really change hearts.”
By Mark O’Keefe in Virginia Beach
