Five-star education and the end of college rankings

How many colleges out there wish they had the #1 spot on U.S. News' Best Colleges rankings? Or at least a higher spot within their respective tier or category? I don't have a scientific answer to this question, but I suspect that the answer is "a vast majority". Ultimately, for me, the more critical question is: Why do those in higher education look to these rankings as a validation for the work that they do? Or as support for their marketing narratives?

At a quick glance (I'm trusting you on this one, Wikipedia), U.S. News published its first rankings in a 1983 report titled, "America's Best Colleges". Back then, people were still living in the age of the printing press where information was disseminated through official bodies without a broad social medium for validation. The public Internet was still under development, and Web 2.0 wasn't even on anyone's roadmap, much less Facebook, Twitter or Yelp. So the best that consumers could manage was to put their faith into a reputable organization that could help them sift through the myriad choices for higher education in order to find the best fit given various constraints.

But does what seemed like a great tool nearly 30 years ago still hold significant meaning in the Social Age? Maybe. Maybe not. But if the Best Colleges rankings are used as a way to establish an institution's reputation, I believe there is a better way in today's world: the five-star rating system.

I'm sure you've seen this. For years, whether it's on Yelp, Redbox, Amazon.com, the five-star rating system has helped people with needs and means to make purchasing decisions. means "Excellent, I highly recommend this!" means "Terrible! Don't touch it with a 100-foot pole." Have those reviews and stars influenced your purchasing decisions, at work or at home? They certainly have for me.

But how can such a simple scale measure such a complex service like education? Well... why not? The idea itself is not novel. Net Promoter Score (NPS) has been around the block and back, employed now by many industries including higher education. NPS uses a scale from 0 to 10. The star rating system uses a range from 1 to 5. So, the net difference is effectively just the number of notches on the line, which is why I think of the star rating system as "NPS lite".

But the real reason why a star rating system like that embedded in many social media outlets is important to higher education is that the scale helps an institution measure the perceived value from all of its constituents. And those constituents are going to be the most effective promoters or detractors of the organization. Yes, there are numerous, intricately linked and complex factors that influence any given rating. And yes, NPS and the star rating system omit other metrics that can help pin-point specific problem areas. But all of the good and the bad, both in and out of the classroom must roll up into something in the minds of students, parents and everyone else. And I believe the what is captured neatly in the number of stars every individual has the power to give to an organization.

Simply translated for higher education:

• , "I had a great experience! If you're looking for a graduate program, I highly recommend this college!"
• , "What the hell? What do you mean I spent 4 years and $100k just to end up with no job and a ticking clock on my student loans? Don't come here if you're serious about your education needs."

The five-star rating system. Simple. Measurable. Scalable. Inevitable.

In the future, I imagine people will stop caring about a "top 100" list published by a major corporation. Instead, they will head over to their favorite social media site and look for 5-star colleges as rated by parents, students, alumni, staff, partners and beyond.

And when the time comes, that will be the end of today's college rankings.

idea, noun: a proposed solution to an identified problem

What is an idea in the context of selecting projects to execute within a business? The closest definition given by Merriam-Webster is "a plan for action". But perhaps a better applied definition for leaders in an organization is "a proposed solution to an identified problem" where the problem identification comes first.

At a Technology staff retreat I held this past Tuesday, subtly charged conversation in the room revolved around the sequencing and meanings of a few simple words: problem, solution and idea. The backdrop to the conversation was a topic from project portfolio management: how a proposed initiative becomes part of a portfolio. Ultimately, the goal of portfolio management is to ensure that the organization is "doing the right work."

I had originally started the dialogue by stating the first step in the process is that an idea is conceived. A colleague then added that a problem should also be identified. This sounded reasonable. So, I agreed and proceeded to add this step below the idea conceived step on the flip chart. I was feeling good about how this addition tightened the gap between the first step and the goal step of project selected for execution. Off to a good start, I thought.

"The order is wrong. You can't conceive an idea or solution before identifying a problem." This comment gave me pause, as I looked at the large sheet of paper on which I left too little room at the top to switch the order of the first two steps.

"Is the order of those steps really significant," I began in an impatient reply, "if the person performing each one is the same?" In my mind, I was thinking about how we don't want barely baked ideas to bounce around the office, eating up staff's valuable work time. What's the big deal about the order, I thought, if the same person considers both the problem and the solution before sharing the idea with someone else? Isn't the result the same?  After a few more stubborn (on my part) exchanges back and forth with no changes in opinion or on the chart, my colleague gave a final comment, "I feel extremely concerned about the order being wrong, and this is the last time I'm going to raise this concern."

Worried about the negative direction the conversation was taking, I abandoned the page on which I was drawing and redrew the chart, starting with problem identified at the top then leading to idea conceived (with a solution). I verbally acknowledged that the new sequence would be better than the previous one, and I got a brief nod from the concerned colleague as a result. But mostly, I was just relieved to be moving on to talking about the criteria for weighing and comparing different ideas.

Reflecting on this experience a few days later, it clicked for me why my colleague was so concerned about the order of first identifying a problem and then devising a solution. The way I first drew the chart showed a shallow focus on what was "cool", "novel" or "trendy" about a product or service, whereas the rearranged chart demonstrated a clear focus on understanding and considering real business needs which need to be addressed.

What should leaders be concerned about? Should we put our attention on what's shiny and new that everyone else is pursuing and trying to find a way to apply them to our business? Or should we focus on learning our business needs first and then look for a solution, shiny or not? The answer I think is obvious, and I personally learned a valuable lesson about what lens to wear when surveying the work environment.

It's funny how blind we are to our own hypocrisy sometimes. When I first heard about "manufactured demand" in industries like big pharma, where products are created without an identified need, I wagged my finger and condemned the practice. It seems that I have fallen into the same rut as those I've criticized, and it's time to start pulling myself out and into better company.