Escolar Documentos
Profissional Documentos
Cultura Documentos
Lou Marino
University of Alabama
A. J. Strickland
University of Alabama
Jason McKenna, a senior majoring in management, was sitting in his fraternity house
at the University of Alabama (UA). President of the Omicron chapter of Pi Kappa Phi,
McKenna was trying to decide what to say at the chapter meeting that was starting in
a few minutes. The Omicron chapter, with a long legacy of rich traditions on the UA
campus, was facing mounting pressure from the National Council of Pi Kappa Phi to
agree to become a “leadership chapter” and take on the challenge of revamping its
chapter operations in ways that would put far more emphasis on the positive aspects of
fraternal societies. The national officers of Pi Kappa Phi were trying to coax most of
its local chapters to help lead the arduous and slippery task of reshaping the troubled
and oft-criticized Greek culture at both the local and national levels—in recent years,
fraternity chapters on many campuses across the United States had come under in-
creased scrutiny from university administrators for their wild parties, binge drinking,
drug use, occasional hazing incidents, and weak emphasis on academics. In supporting
initiatives for basic reforms at its local chapters, personnel at Pi Kappa Phi’s national
headquarters had invested substantial resources in creating unique programs, such as
The Journey, that were intended to enrich fraternity membership and rejuvenate dwin-
dling chapter rosters.
While McKenna clearly saw the benefits of The Journey and other initiatives that
National was promoting, he was not sure they were a good fit with what his brothers in
the Omicron chapter wanted to get out of their fraternity experience. Omicron’s activ-
ities and the concerns and priorities of its members were not substantively different
from those at the other 25 fraternities on the UA campus. The truth of the matter was
that, while making decent grades was important to many of McKenna’s fraternity
brothers, winning the All Sports Trophy and having parties with the best sororities
were even more important. In fact, on the UA campus, a fraternity’s reputation hinged
chiefly on how well its intramural sports teams performed and grapevine comments
about how good its parties were. McKenna was, of course, very aware that the univer-
sity’s administration had long-standing concerns about what went on in UA’s fraternity
houses—over the years, a number of chapters had been put on probation (some several
times) or had their houses shut down for a time for one violation or another. For well
over a decade, UA officials had been urging and pressuring campus fraternity officers
to purge all hazing, strictly enforce an antidrug policy, monitor alcohol consumption
closely, conduct their parties in a responsible fashion, and promote better academic
standards among their membership.
McKenna, along with many other fraternity officers at UA, thought that university
administrators had exaggerated the extent of so-called abuses and negatives of frater-
nity life at UA, but there was no doubt that university officials wanted to crack down
on fraternities and either reform the fraternity system or engineer its demise on the
UA campus. While the Omicron chapter was currently in good standing with the Uni-
versity of Alabama, McKenna realized that recent racially embarrassing incidents
involving two fraternities at nearby Auburn University, coupled with the growing anti-
Greek sentiment among the university’s administration, heightened the risk of poten-
tially serious trouble for Omicron down the road. McKenna didn’t see that simply
coasting along with the status quo was a wise option. His conversations with Omi-
cron’s academic adviser, a professor in UA’s College of Business Administration, and
with a couple of the people at National had persuaded him that for the good of the
house he needed to convince his brothers to adopt and implement National’s Journey
program and become a Leadership Chapter. But his immediate problem was figuring
out what he could do and say at the upcoming meeting to win a majority vote for such
an action—especially given that the main item on the agenda for the meeting was
planning the chapter’s annual “Animal House” party.
Six hundred miles away in Charlotte, North Carolina, Mark Timmes, the CEO of
Pi Kappa Phi, was sitting in his office preparing for an upcoming meeting of the Na-
tional Council (the fraternity’s board of directors) and wrestling with ways that Na-
tional could alter the direction and culture of the local chapters and accentuate the
many positives of membership in a Greek organization such as Pi Kappa Phi. Like
many university officials, Pi Kappa Phi’s national officers saw that the fraternity sys-
tem as presently constituted was slowly sinking and in danger of losing its raison
d’être; they were even more worried about deteriorations in the overall strength of the
fraternity’s local chapters. Pi Kappa Phi had made a “bet your company” decision on
implementing The Journey throughout its 140 chapters across the United States as a
way to try to turn things around. Pi Kappa Phi had spent a small fortune developing
materials for implementing the program at its local chapters. There were videos, inter-
active websites, and leadership training programs specially developed for Pi Kappa Phi
members by Steven Covey’s Covey Leadership Center. The fraternity had made funds
available to pay a modest stipend to local professors to become academic advisers to
assist the local chapters. With these support systems in place and broad authority at the
national level, Timmes was confident that he had the means to drive significant cul-
tural changes and reforms at the chapter level throughout Pi Kappa Phi. However,
Timmes realized that the future of the fraternity was in the hands of the local chapter
officers, current members, and interested alumni. Like Jason McKenna, Mark Timmes
faced the challenge of convincing these brothers that the fraternity’s future rested with
successful adoption and execution of The Journey by local chapters.
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
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As McKenna and Timmes finished preparing for their meetings, both realized that
implementing and executing a bold new vision and strategy for their organizations was
a challenging assignment. While both knew it was a Herculean task, Timmes recog-
nized that it was one needed for survival and McKenna was less certain. Both under-
stood, however, that first step was to convince their brothers of the necessity for
change.
HISTORY OF FRATERNITIES
In 1776, America became free to determine its destiny when 13 colonies declared their
independence from England. In that same year, the first college fraternity was formed.
From this first small group, America’s fraternity system had grown and expanded to
involve millions of citizens, 20 U.S. presidents, a majority of all congressmen, and
most modern business leaders.
It all started with a group of students at the College of William and Mary. With
politics in such a volatile state in 1776, college professors wanted the minds of their
students focused on books, not on social activities. Discipline and rules about dress and
behavior were extremely strict. Just as students today seek some escape from the daily
grind of schoolwork, the students at William and Mary found theirs. On certain
evenings, a group of young men calling themselves the Flat Hat Club would gather in
an upstairs room at a local tavern to talk, joke, and socialize over a bowl of punch.
While membership in the Flat Hat Club was unofficial by today’s standards, the club
reportedly included some prestigious names—many believe that Thomas Jefferson
founded the club.
Other groups at William and Mary followed the Flat Hat Club’s lead but soon
caught the notice of disapproving faculty members. To win faculty acceptance, these
groups incorporated educational elements of “literary societies” into their meetings:
oratorical contests and debate and critiques of various literary works. When John
Heath, a student at William and Mary, was denied membership in one of these groups
in 1776, he gathered four of his friends and formed Phi Beta Kappa. By giving his or-
ganization a Greek name and instituting certain secrets for the society, Heath made Phi
Beta Kappa even more exclusive. Phi Beta Kappa created many of the features that
characterize modern fraternities—use of Greek letters, a secret grip, a motto, a ritual of
initiation, a distinctive membership badge, and a constitution of fraternal laws. As Phi
Beta Kappa thrived, its members believed that students at other colleges would enjoy
secret fraternal societies; they formed a second chapter at Yale University in 1780 and
then a third at Harvard in 1781.
When an anti–secret society movement caught momentum in the United States in
the 1830s, the members of Phi Beta Kappa were forced to divulge the society’s secrets,
including the meaning of their Greek letters (“Philosophy, the Guide of Life”). By the
second half of the 20th century, Phi Beta Kappa fraternity had become the highest rec-
ognized honor fraternity for collegiate men and women of superior academic achieve-
ment. But before it relinquished its secret aspects, Phi Beta Kappa had sparked a
movement among college students to form a variety of Greek-letter organizations; the
Greek movement flourished, and chapters sprang up on a growing number of new
campuses.
At Union College in Schenectady, New York, in 1825, students formed the Kappa
Alpha (KA) Society, a relatively small national fraternity that still exists. This was
America’s first true social fraternity, and it precipitated the first conflict between a
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
military personnel, from a wide range of backgrounds, to attend colleges all across the
United States. Familiarity with military-style training regimens (where men formed a
strong esprit de corps and worked together in harsh and violent circumstances) was
conducive to joining a fraternity. More important, the potential benefits of a military-
style training experience were evident to the student/soldiers who were joining frater-
nities, and fraternity chapters across the country rapidly adopted the practice of putting
pledges through a sometimes rigorous training program prior to initiation. It quickly
became commonplace for fraternity pledgeships to involve some form of hazing.
Although pledges faced semester-long periods with hazing that might range from pad-
dling (if they could not correctly answer questions about fraternity history or the home-
towns of actives) to being required to perform whatever physically demanding or lewd
acts that actives might think up, fraternities flourished during the 1950s.
The 1960s and 1970s were an adjustment period for fraternities, as the young peo-
ple of those eras questioned and rebelled against the establishment. Fraternities and their
regimens were seen as part of this establishment, and membership suffered accordingly.
Indeed, a popular movie of that time, Animal House, portrayed an unconventional group
of antiestablishment fraternity brothers triumphing over hyperconformist fraternities as
well as a college administration that persecuted them and eventually threw the group off
campus.
However, fraternity membership rebounded, growing rather briskly at most U.S.
college campuses during the 1980s. Undergraduates were interested in the social life
fraternities offered; as one member said, “All fraternities are about social life. You
make friendships and, as far as careers go, connections. Being in a fraternity is all
about having a house to have parties and the social funds to do it right.” As member-
ship reached roughly 450,000 undergraduates in the early 1990s, the outlook for the
fraternity system seemed rosy. But underneath the healthy membership gains and pop-
ularity of the fraternity system, there were some distressing signs. Problems regarding
alcohol abuse, drug use, overemphasis on partying, and low academic performance
were mounting at many chapters on many campuses. Numerous observers, including
the national officers of fraternities, felt that local chapters on many campuses were
straying from their national fraternity’s original roots and purposes, fostering a culture
that was out of step and misdirected.
pledges were subjected to; stories and rumors circulated through the campus grapevine
on a fairly regular basis.
During the 1990s, interest in fraternity activities steadily eroded among incom-
ing freshmen, resulting in membership declines of as much as 30 percent by 2001.
Undergraduate membership in Alpha Tau Omega nationwide had declined from 9,100
in 1989 to 6,300 in 2000; membership in Theta Chi fraternity was off 27 percent, and
membership in Phi Delta Theta was down nearly 30 percent. At Michigan State, Greek
membership dropped from 6,000 in 1989 to 3,100 in fall 1999. At Bowling Green State
University, the percentage of undergraduates belonging to fraternities was down from
19 percent in 1990 to 12 percent in 2000. An officer of the National Interfraternity
Conference estimated that 350,000 undergraduates belonged to fraternities in 2000,
down from about 400,000 members in 1990. By 1998, the average size of the frater-
nity chapters on college campuses had fallen to 38 men, down from an average of 54
men in 1990 and not far from the lows of the Vietnam War era, when the average chap-
ter size was 34 members. However, the average chapter size of the 26 sororities be-
longing to the National Panhellenic Conference had risen from 46 in 1980 to 54 in
2000. Exhibit 1 provides data on Greek membership for the years 1982–2000.
The nationwide falloff in Greek membership had numerous causes. Fewer stu-
dents seemed inclined to shell out hundreds of dollars in monthly dues and fees to be
part of a system that had a reputation for excessive partying, engaged in sometimes of-
fensive behavior, and, in some cases, endangered members’ lives. Some fraternities ex-
perienced high dropout rates among existing members, generally for financial reasons,
low grades, or eroding interest in what the fraternity had to offer. The Beta Theta Pi
chapter at Michigan State, which had 130 members and was known for throwing the
wildest beer bashes on the campus in the 1980s, was down to 25 members in 1995; ac-
cording to a former chapter president, “They partied themselves into an oblivion.” The
somewhat precipitous decline in membership and eroding financial conditions at un-
economically small chapters led to the shutdown of many chapters.
However, falling membership was not wholly due to faulty chapter recruitment
practices and eroding retention rates. The national officers at the various fraternities
recognized that excessive partying and alcohol had become a far too prominent part of
Greek life and, further, that growing numbers of students saw fraternities as conflict-
ing with their academic and career pursuits. According to Ron Foster, executive direc-
tor of Tau Kappa Epsilon, “Today’s college students are more serious about their
studies and career goals than they were in the 1980s. Many students say they simply
don’t see any reason to join a fraternity.” Tom Strong, dean of students at the Univer-
sity of Alabama (which had more than 300 student organizations), observed, “At one
point, being Greek was very traditional and it was the thing to do. But now there are so
many more organizations on campus that the lure of the Greek system is not what it
used to be.” Other reasons for declining interest in joining a fraternity were (1) the high
numbers of students who were working part-time to help defray their college expenses
and who thus had little time to devote to fraternity life and little inclination to spend
what discretionary funds they had on fraternity dues, and (2) the increasing ethnic and
multicultural diversity of student populations—many nonwhite students had almost no
prior exposure to the legacy of fraternities and were not disposed to even consider join-
ing such groups, even if they were extended bids.
Traditional Greek-letter organizations were mostly white as of 2001, despite a ris-
ing number of minority students on campus. At campuses like the University of Al-
abama, where several thousand black students were enrolled, the Greek population
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
Note: These data require careful use and intrepretation because of the year-to-year variations in the
number and composition of the reporting institutions.
Source: www.indiana.edu/~cscf/faqs.htm, December 20, 2001.
1
Leo Reisberg, “Ethnic and Multicultural Fraternities Are Booming on Many Campuses,” Chronicle of
Higher Education (http://chronicle.com), January 7, 2000.
2
As quoted in ibid.
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
3
Thomas Bartlett, “An Ugly Tradition Persists at Southern Fraternity Parties,” Chronicle of Higher Edu-
cation, November 30, 2001.
4
The Beta Theta Pi chapter at Auburn had about 140 members, a 3.2 overall grade-point average, and a
$2.5 million house; a number of its members were officers of prominent campus organizations. The chapter
was regarded by the national organization as one of its most outstanding chapters in all of North America.
5
Bartlett, “An Ugly Tradition Persists.”
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
to alcohol, drugs, and/or hazing. These tough measures were the result of “zero tol-
erance” attitudes and policies that were adopted by national fraternity and university
officials. Under these policies, evidence of improper conduct by a fraternity led to
strict sanctions or outright closing of the chapter. A second action involved the efforts
of some national fraternity organizations to reduce risk at chapter events by having
alcohol-free chapter houses. The rise in the number of dry fraternities began in 1997
when the national leadership of Sigma Nu and Phi Delta Theta made the decision to
become alcohol-free by 2000. Others fraternities were following suit. By the end of
2000, over 30 national fraternities were pursuing the implementation of alcohol-free
chapter houses. Dry rush (recruiting without alcohol) had become the norm on U.S.
campuses as a way of helping reduce alcohol abuse in fraternity chapters.
In 1992, to attack the problem cultures of many of its chapter houses, the national
office of Sigma Phi Epsilon (SPE) had initiated a project called Balanced Man, which
tracked the personal development of members throughout their college careers; each
member had to go through three steps—the Sigma, the Phi, and the Epsilon Chal-
lenges. The project eliminated the concept of pledgeship periods; according to one
member, “From Day 1, you’re a brother. I see no point in breaking someone down just
to build them back up.” New groups were required to adopt the Balanced Man ap-
proach in order to colonize; 149 of SPE’s 249 chapters had signed on to the Balanced
Man project during the 1992–2000 period. But the SPE chapters that had not become
part of the project—and even a few that had—were reluctant to give up the tradition of
pledging, and the hazing that sometimes went with it. Some chapters were still strug-
gling with membership numbers, behavior, and grades. According to one SPE national
officer, “Until we get a lot of other fraternities on our campuses to institute similar
models of development, our chapters will continue to fight the battle of being differ-
ent.”6 From 1992 to 1999, SPE closed 58 chapters, including nine Balanced Man chap-
ters, for low membership, alcohol abuse, hazing, or other violations involving what
SPE’s national officers considered risky behaviors. Although emphasis on academics
was a key part of SPE’s Balanced Man project, seven years after the start of the pro-
gram, only 49 percent of the Balanced Man chapters had grade-point averages above
their respective campus averages—26 percent of the non–Balanced Man chapters were
above their campus averages. A few SPE chapters were going all-out to combat unde-
sirable behavior on the part of members; for example, the newly colonized SPE chap-
ter at the University of Georgia required a minimum 3.0 grade-point average and
community service of all members, and the chapter took a strong stand against under-
age drinking—when two members under 21 were caught drinking in 1999, each had to
write a five-page paper on how alcohol abuse could destroy a fraternity.
Despite increased self-policing, on-campus fraternity chapters as a group had
faced mounting pressure and regulation from college administrations around the coun-
try for at least the past five years. More and more colleges and universities were en-
acting strict rules governing fraternities that were often distinct and more rigorous than
the rules for other on-campus student organizations. These new rules governing frater-
nities sometimes included accreditation requirements that had to be met on an ongoing
basis to remain in good standing; typical of these rules were the deferring of freshmen
rush to the second semester, having to maintain a specified-minimum grade-point
average, and reducing or completely eliminating pledgeship periods. Even with these
6
Reisberg, “Ethnic and Multicultural Fraternities Are Booming.”
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
restrictions and requirements, some college administrators saw the fraternities on their
campus as troublesome nuisances with more negatives than positives. Anti-Greek ad-
ministrators at some universities had cut back on institutional support for Greek-life
staff members and programs and, in a few extreme instances, had banned fraternities
from campus all together.
Other universities were initiating efforts to restore the luster of fraternities. Emory
University in Atlanta had introduced its Phoenix Plan in 1997 to “raise the fraternity
system out of the ashes.” The plan involved the university purchasing the rundown and
often unsafe fraternity houses from alumni corporations, remodeling them into
sparkling residences with state-of-the-art kitchens and top-of-the-line furnishings, and
providing housekeeping and maintenance. Emory also put live-in house directors on its
payroll to serve as role models and keep an eye on what needed fixing—from a leaky
roof to an out-of-control party. Nine of Emory’s 11 fraternities had elected to partici-
pate in the plan in 2000, but the two holdouts symbolized the resistance to change that
university administrators and national fraternities often encountered from local frater-
nity chapters. An officer of the Kappa Sigma fraternity, one of the two holdouts, said
of Emory’s Phoenix Plan:
We hate it. The Phoenix Plan equals no fun and sucky fraternity life. It severely hurts what
being in a fraternity is all about, which is having a good time and having parties.7
At the time the officer made this statement, his Kappa Sigma chapter house was run-
down, with crumbling columns, broken windows, a leaky roof that had stained the ceil-
ing, and a side yard littered with beer bottles and a broken couch. In contrast, the
houses of the nine fraternities that had opted to participate in the Phoenix Plan were
filled almost to capacity. Emory University officials believed the Phoenix Plan had
been a success, pointing out that, by 2000, fraternity membership at Emory had
climbed above 1997 levels when the Phoenix Plan was launched and that the new
chapter house arrangements had produced positive cultural changes within the nine
participating fraternities.
GREEK ORGANIZATIONS AT
THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA
Although historically the Greek system at the University of Alabama had been very
strong, it was not immune from the same challenges facing Greek organizations around
the country. In 2001, the university had a total enrollment of around 22,000 students on
its main Tuscaloosa campus; roughly 20 percent belonged to Greek fraternities and
sororities. The Greek system consisted of 26 fraternities and 19 sororities, with the
sororities having about twice as many total members as the fraternities. Traditionally,
Greeks permeated all levels of campus leadership and involvement, effectively domi-
nating student government and campus elections. The political activities of Greek orga-
nizations had recently extended into community political circles when a 25-year-old
former Greek UA student was elected to the Tuscaloosa city council in 1997 (with many
of his votes coming from UA students who had registered to vote in Tuscaloosa—some
for the purpose of voting in this particular election).
7
Reisberg, “Ethnic and Multicultural Fraternities Are Booming.”
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
In addition to political interests, Greeks had visible and often leading roles in com-
munity service, scholarship development, social activities, and intramural sports. While
some traditions of UA’s Greek system had proved to be great assets to the fraternities,
others had put the current system under great strain. Over the last decade, the Greek
system and the university administration had been in a virtual state of war. Fraternities
had been more or less constantly in trouble for violations involving hazing, drinking,
fighting, and pulling pranks, and university administrators were always pressing for
one or another changes in the Greek system or student government (controlled by the
Greeks), further heightening the friction between the groups. Issues at the forefront of
the debate were delayed rush, a push on the part of the university faculty and others for
greater diversity (there had been very limited racial and cultural integration of fraterni-
ties and sororities), and the requirements and standards for a Greek organization to re-
main in good standing.
Frequent stories in the local and state media in 2001 concerning one or another as-
pects of Greek life (especially regarding the admission of blacks to the mostly all-
white fraternities and sororities) had exacerbated an already tense situation. Most
stories spotlighted what reporters saw as “problems” and the negative aspects of fra-
ternal life; little mention was ever made in the media when something positive oc-
curred in the Greek segment of the campus. The negative reporting had fostered
unfavorable public sentiment against the Greek system and, rightly or wrongly, had
helped toughen the stance that university administrators were taking in their dealing
with fraternities and sororities.
In 2001, Pi Kappa Phi had 140 chapters across the United States, was continuing to ex-
pand at a rapid rate, and ranked in the top 25 percent in the number of chapters, pledges,
and active members. The fraternity was governed by a seven-member National Council
that consisted of a president, vice president, treasurer, secretary, historian, chaplain, and
chancellor. The staff at the national headquarters served as the chapters’ “chamber of
commerce,” promoting the expansion of Pi Kappa Phi to college campuses across the
country.
While Pi Kappa Phi looked very solid in 2001 when benchmarked against other
fraternities, the reality was that many of the chapters had substandard academic per-
formance, mediocre leaders, alcohol issues, limited alumni involvement, and minimal
outreach to the community. To address these problems, Pi Kappa Phi had developed
and was currently instituting a new broad-based, value-building strategic plan called
The Journey.
• Balance—“Individuals who are balanced in their mental, physical and spiritual de-
velopment are happier than those whose lives are out of balance.”
• Excellence—“Excellence is more than a state of being; it is a process.”
• Accountability—“Actions have consequences and we must individually be held
responsible for our actions.”
• Commitment—“Commitment is the desire to get the job done, be it by hard work,
allocation of resources or whatever means possible.”
• Opportunity—“Always seek out new opportunities.”
• No Limits—“Eliminating self-imposed limits that impair the pursuit of excellence.”
• Stewardship—“Practice service beyond self.”
The concept and purpose of The Journey project were well received by external con-
stituencies. The fraternity received numerous national awards for introduction of the
initiative, and one prestigious businessman went so far as to describe The Journey as
“a true renaissance of the fraternal movement.”
Recognizing the truth in John F. Kennedy’s statement that only 50 percent of a col-
lege education comes through what you learn in a classroom, The Journey aimed at pro-
viding a goodly portion of the other 50 percent and was specifically aimed at building
better men, not simply building better chapters. Through the value-building programs
and educational efforts built into The Journey, every Pi Kappa Phi chapter was offered
the opportunity to meet higher standards and provide its members with a valuable way
to enhance their personal development and leadership potential. While all chapters
could profit from taking on the challenge of meeting the higher standards built into
Level I of The Journey (see Exhibit 2), chapters aspiring to Level II status had to com-
mit to higher performance standards and a new set of operating practices, including
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
• Mission: Building leading men for life’s journey through leading chapters.
• Vision: Pi Kappa Phi will be America’s Leading Fraternity with leading men
in leading chapters. Pi Kappa Phi members will be citizens, leaders, gentlemen,
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
scholars, servants, lifelong brothers. (See Exhibit 4 for the complete vision
statement.)
• Vision outcome: Men of CLASS (Citizenship, Leadership Development, Account-
ability, Scholastic Achievement, and Commitment to Service). (See Exhibit 5 for
the standards expected for achieving CLASS status.)
• Long-range objective: Pi Kappa Phi will become and remain the leading fraternal
organization in the world.
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
• General goal: Augment the education of America’s finest men at campuses across
the nation by promoting lifelong member development.
• Core strategy: Lifelong member development program based upon CLASS.
• Substrategies: Promote character and accountability
Provide leadership development opportunities
Encourage academic achievement
Promote commitment to service
Promote a spirit of team work and selfless contribution
• Target behavior: Members utilize opportunities for lifelong enrichment
• Measurable outcomes: Attendance at local, regional, and national events
Percent of members involved in other student
organizations
Number utilizing alumni/career network mentors
Percent of members remaining active for four years
Chapter accounts receivable status
Percent meeting initiation grade requirement
Percent graduating versus campus average
Number of honors graduates and number in honor societies
Number of conduct violations
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
The plan identified four core objectives delivered through two initiatives:
• Building Leading Men by making The Journey of Pi Kappa Phi (formerly The
Journey Project) available to all chapters with no distinction between levels, no
application process, no separate standards, and no Journey Retreat. Leading men
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
were able to quickly and succinctly articulate what Pi Kappa Phi stands for and
were challenged to be men of CLASS (Citizenship, Leadership Development, Ac-
countability, Scholastic Achievement, and Commitment to Service. The fraternity
also offered the Star Assignment Alcohol Education Program to help support the
initiative of building better men.
• Building Leading Chapters through the America’s Leading Fraternity initiative.
This initiative encompassed the Seven Objectives of Chapter Excellence (Recruit-
ment Success, Superior Associate Member Education, Scholastic Achievement,
Sound Chapter Operations, Living the Ritual, Commitment to Service, Effective
Alumni Relations), defining chapter achievement at three levels, with a leading
chapter meeting the highest one. Leading chapters would focus chapter support
through a customized strategic plan.
• Promoting Lifelong Brotherhood by shifting resources to make Pi Kappa Phi a
lifelong experience. To meet this goal, the fraternity intended to employ system-
atic communication in the form of chapter alumni newsletters and e-mails, devel-
oping member benefit packages, and sponsoring annual chapter- and city-based
alumni events.
• Becoming the Leading National Headquarters by allowing the national headquar-
ters to serve as a chamber of commerce and the staff to act as volunteer coordina-
tors to help members and chapters be successful and to maintain the standards of
the fraternity.
The plan set forth two detailed action initiatives for achieving these four objectives and
also identified the resources that would be made available to chapter members in pur-
suing Journey standards and producing men of CLASS. The plan included over 20
measures for tracking the progress being made in implementing the plan and achiev-
ing the target outcomes.
As Mark Timmes got ready to head to the National Council meeting, he worried
whether all the money and energy that the national fraternity had spent on The Journey
and on “Built to Last” was going to produce the desired results and allow Pi Kappa Phi
to lay legitimate claim to its tag line of “America’s Best Fraternity.” The plan seemed
to look pretty good on paper, but Timmes realized the real test was yet to come—local
chapters, most especially the ones that were struggling, had to be convinced to buy into
The Journey concept and then National had to deliver on making The Journey experi-
ence something that the big majority of chapter members would find truly worthwhile
and meaningful. Otherwise, the plan would produce little of tangible value and Na-
tional would be back at square one.
In keeping with Pi Kappa Phi’s spirit of growing through the relentless pursuit of
excellence, the brothers of the Omicron chapter overcame many obstacles over the
years. In 1960, the university notified the chapter that the property on which its origi-
nal chapter house stood would be needed for expansion of the law school. When it ap-
peared that funds could not be raised in time to build a new fraternity house and meet
the deadline for vacating the existing house, Omicron’s president, along with several
other chapter members, went to a local bank and pledged their cars as collateral for a
loan to start construction of the present chapter house.
While some years produced more honors, awards, and championships than others,
Omicron thrived. It was regarded as one of Pi Kappa Phi’s strongest chapters, and it
was among the most highly regarded fraternities on the UA campus. On the national
level, the Omicron chapter generated more national presidents of Pi Kappa Phi and
more Mr. Pi Kappa Phis (the fraternity’s highest honor) than any other chapter. How-
ever, in 1996, in what proved to be a traumatic event for the chapter, the University of
Alabama cited Omicron for hazing. According to grapevine rumor, a number of UA
fraternities still surreptitiously engaged in the hazing of pledges in the mid-1990s, de-
spite long-standing university efforts to halt the practice and despite assurances from
fraternity officers that it had ended in their chapters. University officials imposed swift
and harsh penalties on the Pi Kappa Phi chapter (as they had done with other fraterni-
ties when hazing had been discovered). The punishment handed down was so severe
that it was whispered among other Greek organizations that the Pi Kappa Phi chapter
had received a “death sentence.” Omicron’s fraternity house was closed, the prominent
Pi Kappa Phi letters removed from the facade, and all on-campus operations and ac-
tivities of the fraternity were suspended for three years. As might be expected, the
three-year suspension for hazing hit the chapter hard, severely disappointing their na-
tional officers and marring Omicron’s reputation on campus.
The suspension presented chapter officers and members with a dilemma—they
could simply disband the chapter and try to resurrect operations after the three-year
suspension ended, or they could move to an off-campus location and fight to hold the
chapter together until they were allowed to return to their on-campus house and resume
normal fraternity activities. Not surprisingly, in keeping with the tradition of the chap-
ter, the members chose to find a suitable location off campus where they could at least
maintain some semblance of a chapter house and gather enough strength to return to
the campus after the three-year suspension ended. To find a facility large enough for
the weekly chapter meetings, Omicron turned to a local drinking establishment and
rented the facility on Sunday nights when it was closed (local county ordinances
banned serving alcohol on Sunday). Following a series of gut-wrenching meetings in
which there was hot debate about how Omicron came to find itself in such dire straits
and what now needed to be done, members vowed to clean up their act. The chapter
worked hard on boosting members’ academic performance during the suspension pe-
riod and made giant strides, raising the chapter’s grade-point average from the lowest
among 26 fraternities on the UA campus (at the time the suspension was handed down)
to the highest of all 26 chapters by 1999 (when the suspension ended).
Though times were rocky during the three-year suspension, Omicron’s brothers
were able to keep the chapter functional, albeit in a weakened state except for the dra-
matic improvement in the chapter’s academic performance. When the chapter returned
to campus in 1999, Omicron’s members were anxious to resume a leading position in
the Greek hierarchy on the UA campus and indicated to university officials that they
were committed to instituting a hazing-free pledge program. Both goals proved chal-
lenging. Campus administrators were not sure whether chapter members were truly
Thompson−Strickland: 4. Pi Kappa Phi Fraternity Case © The McGraw−Hill
Strategic Management: Companies, 2002
Concepts and Cases, 13th
Edition
ready to purge all hazing; they discounted what Omicron’s officers said and preferred
to let the chapter’s future actions tell the story one way or the other. Omicron had to
work especially hard to rebuild its membership roster to former levels, finding that the
chapter’s suspension-tarnished reputation caused a number of the “best” rushees to shy
away. Nonetheless, the size of the chapter increased from just over 30 members when
the suspension was lifted in 1999 to just over 70 members in 2001.
Chapter members were heartened, too, by the strong alumni support they received
in resuming on-campus chapter operations and rebuilding the chapter. To welcome and
thank the returning alumni offering assistance and moral support, the chapter held
scholarship dinners (that highlighted the chapter’s academic achievements) and pro-
vided pregame lunches at home football games. The chapter alumni who volunteered
to help restore the chapter’s strength were quick to impart their experiences and advice
based on the “glory days” of how things were done when they were members. A few
of the alumni brothers were openly skeptical of hazing-free pledge programs, arguing
that a strong brotherhood was built on the experiences of pledges who had to overcome
the adversity of a tough pledgeship regimen; these alumni brothers told Omicron’s cur-
rent members a raft of stories about the camaraderie fostered by the antics they shared
as pledges and as brothers training new pledges. While the current members realized
that some of the alumni’s stories involved clear examples of hazing, other stories
seemed to involve harmless fun and were enticing. All the alumni folklore, coupled
with hearsay about what transpired at several other fraternity houses on the UA cam-
pus, began to spread sentiments among Omicron’s members to maintain some sem-
blance of the chapter’s pledge-training traditions rather than to make a clean break
with the past.
the status quo and with stonewalling on most of the changes in the Greek system the
university administration proposed. McKenna sensed that his brothers’ interest in Na-
tional’s Journey initiative was lukewarm at best.
As he headed for the chapter meeting, Jason McKenna continued to mull over sev-
eral questions. Should he stick his neck out for The Journey and, if so, what could he
say that would carry the day? If he did not bring it up tonight, how much longer could
he wait to put the issue squarely before the chapter? What was his responsibility as
chapter president—to carry out the wishes of the majority of the members, or to exer-
cise leadership and make a persuasive case for changing the long-term direction of the
chapter? The choices were not easy ones, but the time to make some decisions was
close at hand.
(For additional data on trends in fraternity membership, you can browse the infor-
mation at http://chronicle.com/free/v46/i18/18a06101/htm.)