As a student, I always pictured myself teaching, writing on chalkboards, mentoring students and having the freedom to pursue intellectual curiosity. I imagined this career long before I knew what a salary model was and before salary ever entered the picture. Many faculty share this story, as we did not choose academia because it promised financial rewards. We chose it as we believe in the value of higher education and value the opportunity to make meaningful contributions toward knowledge production.
A recent report from the American Association of University Professors found that, despite a 3.8 percent increase in full-time faculty salaries in fall 2024, inflation-adjusted compensation remained 6.2 percent below pre-pandemic levels. The same report reveals that growth in salaries for university presidents has outpaced the growth in faculty salaries, with the median salaries of university presidents ranging from $268,000 at public associate-granting institutions to more than $900,000 at private doctoral universities. These findings, taken together, underscore a broader, systemic concern: While institutions claim to invest in people, many faculty, having seen their wages decline in real terms, feel left behind.
As a statistician who served for more than a decade on the faculty compensation committee and the priorities and budget committee at my institution, I have seen the evolution of salary models from the inside. A rule of thumb in the world of statistical modeling is that if all elements of a model are not visible and you cannot reproduce a model, you cannot trust it. As an expert in modeling, I can say without a doubt that faculty salary models fail the basic tests of clarity and reproducibility.
As faculty try to understand which critical features determine the numbers on their paychecks, we realize that salary models are often unable to provide clear answers because they evolved piecemeal over decades, are shaped by constraints and ultimately represent an accumulation of ad hoc decisions, resulting in inequitable and complex systems that only a few people can fully understand. Some senior faculty may recall fragments of past rationale, but there are no clear explanations. And the newer faculty inherit a system shaped by decisions and compromises made long ago. Over time, we see the final number but not the logic behind it, and faculty salary models feel like black boxes.
The most pressing problems regarding salary models are that they are opaque, overly complex, poorly researched and disconnected from institutional values. It is no wonder then that each year, especially as colleges and universities start counting their applicants and estimating the yield for incoming students, conversations about faculty salaries spark a mix of confusion and concern at a national level.
A salary model need not be simple, but it should be understandable, including by:
- Having clear definitions and an explicit role in terms of factoring in rank, years of service, years in a rank, discipline, merit, etc.
- Having explicit information about how rank, years of service, years in a rank, discipline, merit and market factors (such as peer benchmarking, geographical cost of labor, retention pressures, inflation and demand for a discipline) interact.
- Having transparent formulas to reproduce salary calculations.
- Having a principled design that is equity-centered and values retention, competitiveness and compression adjustments.
- Having predictability so the faculty can anticipate how future performance will impact compensation.
Once all elements of the salary model are defined, discussions can shift from suspicion of hidden decision-making to questions that highlight institutional values. What does a balance in teaching, research and service look like? How can we identify and address disparities across gender, race, rank or discipline? Should merit adjustments be part of the model? How should market factors be adjusted for? What trade-offs are we willing to make as an institution under fiscal constraints? These are governance questions, not modeling mysteries.
To move this conversation forward responsibly, we must also acknowledge the administrative perspective. Transparency is often framed as a demand placed on administrators—a demand that they are often perceived as not having met, or of not having a desire to meet. Having served alongside administrators in budget deliberations, I understand there is a constant tug-of-war between finite resources and competing priorities. There are many valid budgetary constraints, such as uncertain enrollments, inflation, deferred maintenance and the costs of maintaining academic excellence and student support. By clearly sharing the competing priorities and long-term planning considerations, the administration can invite faculty into a constructive dialogue so both sides can work together to find sustainable and equitable solutions.
Transparency is a powerful way to restore a sense of alignment between faculty work and institutional mission, and to build a community committed to clarity, equity and shared purpose. Faculty must articulate what values they want in a model, and administration must share data, assumptions and constraints. Predictability helps faculty plan their careers; understanding how salary evolves can make them feel more secure. If faculty feel secure and confident in how their pay is determined and if administrations openly communicate the financial constraints they face, the conversation moves from “How was this number generated?” to “Is this the model we want for our community?”
As higher education faces financial pressures and intense public scrutiny, this is a call to open the black box of faculty salary models. This begins with a commitment to openness, but it also requires a culture shift. We must stop treating faculty salary structures as overly technical and recognize them as central to equity, morale and long-term institutional sustainability. By doing this, we not only build confidence in the process but also honor the intellectual and professional contributions of faculty members. In this sense, a transparent salary model becomes a living document that reflects institutional priorities, making compensation more than a number—it can become a statement of shared values.
Priya Kohli is a professor of statistics and chair of the Department of Mathematics and Statistics at Connecticut College.
