cheatedI encourage everybody curious about the ongoing athletics and academic scandal at UNC to read Cheated, a new book by Jay Smith and Mary Willingham. The book combines the detailed document analysis of Professor Smith, a historian, with the compassion of Ms. Willingham, a tutor and academic counselor, to provide a compelling account of UNC’s troubles, which apparently began in the late 1980s. In the interests of full disclosure, the authors are friends and colleagues, with whom I have had many illuminating conversations. Nevertheless, in my opinion the book prompts the reader to dig beneath the surface of the authors’ anecdotes and analyses to explore how and why a great university like UNC barreled so stunningly off course. It invites readers to ponder what motivated individuals, from the most senior leaders to the on-the-ground (or in the locker room) tutors and advisors who implemented the fraud, to stray so far from UNC’s mission.

The title, Cheated, is provocative (likely intentionally so) coming from two teachers. The word “cheated” is especially apt for the disheartening tale that the authors weave, because the concept has two dimensions. One can ask, for example, “who perpetrated this fraud or swindle that UNC is still struggling with?” The term also forces the reader to wonder, “who was cheated?”

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The authors recount numerous responses to the first question. Ignore, if you will, any gut reaction that the past is past or UNC’s assertion that it has taken 70 actions and initiatives to decrease the risk of future cheating. Focus instead on what we can learn about ourselves, the sports enterprise, and the culture of our university, by simply pondering the question. Julius Nyang’oro cheated. He was even indicted for fraud, a charge which was dropped in agreement for immunity to cooperate with the State Bureau of Investigation and the Wainstein investigation. How does a respected professor descend to such appalling behavior? Although the Wainstein report lightly touches upon a possible motivation stemming from fondness for college sports, the thinking and decision-making require further analysis. What factors or forces encourage or permit such behavior, and how does a university community recognize and moderate those forces? Smith and Willingham do allege, for example, that benign neglect by senior administrators allowed the African American Studies Department, largely as reflected in the actions of Nyang’oro and Deborah Crowder, to nurture the fraud. The bureaucratic explanation, that the department lacked a graduate program and therefore escaped the periodic reviews undergone by other departments, is plausible, but at the same time should prompt curiosity about how that came to be.

Faculty cheated by orchestrating grades and course placements. The fact that a faculty leader whose scholarly interest is in sports ethics colluded in the scandal is no small irony. That irony should encourage every faculty member to explore how they personally recognize and address the inevitable ethical conflicts that arise in trying to balance the interests of students, university colleagues, national colleagues, administrators and others.  These personal explorations should promote discussions in every department and across departments to learn from one another and hold one another accountable. Every time a member of the faculty rises in a meeting to applaud the academic accomplishments of an individual athlete in their department, we should ask how that anecdote addresses the fraud that has occurred. Most students who play sports at UNC complete their academic programs satisfactorily and many do so with distinction. What should concern us is that systematic cheating occurred to maintain eligibility for those who were unable to succeed academically. More importantly, such declarations about individual athletes should prompt all to contemplate possible compromises that they personally may have made or witnessed.

Deborah Crowder cheated. Even if we believe the Wainstein conclusion that she was motivated by nothing more than empathy for struggling students, what personal reasoning and institutional circumstances allowed her to engage in clearly illegal behavior? Many members of the Academic Support Program for Student Athletes plainly cheated by seeking out and enrolling students in classes known to be fake.

Assorted Deans cheated by not acting forcefully on their suspicions. For example, during the summer of 2010, an investigation into “improper benefits” provided to football players ended up exposing academic improprieties. In one of the book’s more bracing stories, Smith and Willingham describe how these cases, most notably that of Michael McAdoo, were directed to the Honor Court. They point out that, oddly, there was no faculty complainant for the case. Smith and Willingham solve the mystery: there was no faculty complainant because there was no faculty member associated with the fake class for which the papers had been constructed.

Cheated presses us to ask about the role of the Board of Trustees. Many prominent and highly talented citizens served on the UNC Board of Trustees in 2012. The book’s recounting and analysis of the many painful internal contradictions and convolutions in the report from James Martin suggest that this report cheated by not being more thorough and rigorous. Of the many questions raised for the UNC Board, and indeed the boards of every university engaged in Big Time Sports, the central one is how Board governance and processes allowed this scandal to flourish.

The coaches who were aware of the scheming to keep athletes eligible or who were not conscientious in understanding the academic circumstances of their charges cheated as well.

UNC’s many fans cheated by unquestioningly backing a system motivated by maintaining eligibility at any cost. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel’s wise response to evil was, “few are guilty, but all are responsible.” When we have the capacity to make a difference in the face of injustice, and we do not, we are responsible. Like good teachers, the authors of Cheated invite everyone — the most spirited fans, and those oblivious to sports on campus — to delve into the question of responsibility.

Who was cheated? The most gripping victims jump from the pages in the chapter entitled “No One Ever Asked Me to Write Anything Before.” While ostensibly on educational pathways from high school to college, students were sadly cheated of an education. Every time a principal or coach looked the other way in high school to enable a student to play a sport, or later, every time academic support staff enrolled students in paper classes, students were cheated.

The African American community was cheated, because the scandal has disproportionately affected their sons, young men who came to UNC having been promised the opportunity for an education. As Smith and Willingham remind us, “Race is the third rail of university politics. It is an issue that almost everyone studiously avoids discussing, in part because comments about race can easily be misconstrued. Even the most sincere and sensitive talk about racial issues becomes unavoidably painful to all concerned. The easy thing to do is to pretend not to notice either continuing racial inequities or the imperfect and superficial fixes that have been devised to combat them through the years. A deceptive but reassuring aura of political correctness and mutual congratulation has imperceptibly taken the place of honest thought and searching discussion.” Because African American men are disproportionately represented as athletes on campus and as the students who were cheated, the authors’ call for thought and discussion would seem to be an imperative for every institution on board the Big Time Sports juggernaut.

Faculty and staff who attempted to uphold high educational standards, but were denounced, were cheated of their professional dignity. Indeed, Mary Willingham was fired for speaking out, only to win a substantial judgment against the university after she felt compelled to file suit to affirm her integrity. The UNC community has been cheated, its tattered reputation still facing uncertainty from an ongoing NCAA investigation.

In the introduction, the authors describe their choice of voice as narrators, referring to their roles in the third person. In analyzing the choices that many other characters have made over the history of this scandal, both authors should have shared more of their own experiences grappling with the dilemmas they personally faced. Mary Willingham served as an athletics learning specialist for seven years. Indeed, many of her insights would not have been possible without her having played that role. She movingly describes how it was not until her fall 2012 meeting with Bill Friday and his subsequent death shortly thereafter that she was motivated to speak out in an interview with Dan Kane of the Raleigh News & Observer. In the October 2010 meeting of the Faculty Council, Jay Smith challenged Chancellor Holden Thorp for a full accounting of the reasons for the events of the preceding months. Reflections about how he came to that decision would add power to the questions raised of the many other actors. I ask for these additional insights not to question their fine work, but to have them demonstrate further how essential it is for all of to be asking ourselves how we may have contributed to the scandal in the past, as well as the ongoing challenges posed by Big Times Sports for universities. How does each of us know when it is time to act?

Regardless of where one stands on the role of Big Time Sports in universities, or the actions that UNC has taken to address this scandal, or the duty of individuals to speak out when they observe institutional dishonesty, Cheated will motivate the reader to ask how and why a great university like UNC has fallen so low. If we don’t fervently seek the answers to these questions, within ourselves and among our colleagues, UNC will not be true to its motto, lux et libertas, light and liberty.