PSU Magazine Spring 1998

ess than two years ago, fortune was frowning on PSU's School of Engineering and Applied Science. Budgets had been flat or declining for years. Equipment was missing or out of date. Dean Robert Dryden was so short of space he gave up his own office to a newly appointed associate dean and camped out in the corner of a sprawling, equipment-cluttered hydrology lab. Most disheartening of all, a plan was afoot to merge PSU's engineering program with the much larger one at Oregon State University, a move that some felt could result in the elimina– tion of PSU's program altogether. Now, in the spring of 1998, the wheel of fortune has turned for the better. Portland State's school has not only surv ived, it is fl ourishing, with fatter budgets, new scholarships and intern– ships, closer ties to alumni and loca l businesse , spanking new labs and state-of-the-art-equipment, and spacious new digs to house electrical and computer engineering and the dean's office. Instead of losing its identity, PSU's school is now a full-fledged partner in a new statewide system, the Oregon College of Engineering and Computer Science, which links PSU, Oregon State University, the Oregon Graduate Institute, and the University of Oregon. In an added twist, Joseph Cox, chancellor of higher education, appointed Dryden head of the new statewide college of engineering, signaling the importance of this role by also naming him one of on ly four vice chancellors for the Oregon University System (formerly, the Oregon State System of Higher Education). ryden, sitting in his new dean's office-he has a second new office for his job as vice-chancellor-says he has every reason to be pleased. "It's been an interesting journey," he says, "not at all what I expected 10 PSU MAGAZINE SPRING 1998 before I arrived here. Since then, everything has turned around." The journey started only 30 days after his appointment as dean in 1995, when Chancellor Cox dropped a bombshell: a proposal to merge the state system's engineering programs, with headquarters at Oregon State University. "We weren't asked to consider the best way to improve engi– neering in Oregon or anything like that," says Dryden, whom Cox appo inted to a key committee to explore the proposal, "just to work out the details of how a merger would work." As a member of the oversight committee-which also included PSU's provost and OSU's president and dean of engineering-Dryden used the opportunity to visit some 200 high-tech companies, building bridges between PSU and local industry along the way. He also sought out scores of PSU engi– neering alumni to learn how they now viewed their education, and discovered just how many worked for local busi– nesses, many in senior positions. Ironically, the chancellor's bomb– shell turned into a blessing. The plan "brought all the issues to the forefront and provided a rallying point for mobi– lizing enormous support for PSU among alumni, facu lty, and the community," Dryden says. And though "gut-wrenching," the experience allowed Dryden "to meet in one year the number of people it would other– wise have taken me five or six years to meet. It was a tornado of activity." t the end of the protracted process involving over a dozen subcommit– tees and multiple meetings, the chancellor's plan met an unexpected fate. Submitted to the State Board of Higher Education, it was voted down. Instead, the board opted for its own plan, the new college which Dryden now heads. The board' plan was partly a response to national trends, including rapid advances in technology, increased competition from big institu– tions like Stanford, and the need to meet the booming demand for engi– neers, accord ing to Don Van Luvanee,