Budget Tradeoffs Without Regret
Budget season has a way of making good people feel like they’re failing.
You can do responsible work, make strategic cuts or reallocations, and still walk away feeling like you disappointed everyone. That emotional weight is real—especially in mission-driven institutions where every dollar is tied to people, academic programs, and student experience.
Over the years, I’ve found that the way to reduce regret isn’t to avoid tradeoffs. It’s to make them explicit, using a framework that people can understand—even if they don’t love the outcome.
Here’s the practical approach I use when “everything is important.”
Step 1: Name the constraint in one sentence
If you can’t name the constraint, you can’t build alignment.
Examples:
“We have a $5M structural deficit and compensation is the majority of spend.”
“Our cash position requires us to preserve liquidity above covenant thresholds.”
“We need to fund strategic priorities without increasing net price beyond market tolerance.”
This sentence becomes the anchor for every conversation. It keeps the process from turning into a debate about preferences.
Step 2: Separate “choices” from “facts”
Most budget debates mix two things:
Facts: enrollment, net tuition, compensation growth, debt service, fixed costs, scholarships, inflation
Choices: program mix, service levels, investment priorities, staffing models
I like to put facts in a straight forward dashboard that everyone can see. When you remove ambiguity about the financial reality, you create a much healthier environment for actual decision-making.
Step 3: Use contribution margin thinking (even if it’s imperfect)
In higher education, it’s tempting to treat everything as sacred. But you can’t allocate resources responsibly without understanding where your margin comes from and what consumes it.
I’ve used contribution margin analysis as a decision-support tool—not as a blunt instrument. It helps you ask:
Which activities fund other activities?
Which programs require subsidy, and is that subsidy strategic and intentional?
Where can we invest to improve net revenue or reduce cost without degrading outcomes?
You don’t need a perfect model to get value from this. You need a model that is directionally accurate, transparent about assumptions, and updated when reality changes.
Step 4: Translate cuts into service-level impacts (not just dollars)
People don’t experience budgets. They experience service. A common failure point is presenting cuts as a spreadsheet exercise and then acting surprised when campus stakeholders feel blindsided.
A better approach is to ask each area to define:
What we will stop doing
What will take longer
What will change in quality or availability
What risks increase (compliance, safety, student experience)
That level of clarity is harder, but it is more honest—and it prevents regret later because leadership understood the operational consequences when they made the decision.
Step 5: Keep a small strategic investment fund (even in tight years)
This is counterintuitive, but I’ve found it matters a lot. If you cut everything evenly, you slowly drain the institution of momentum. If you maintain even a modest pool for market-driven programs, retention initiatives, or process modernization, you preserve the ability to improve outcomes and reduce future cost. The message is: “We are tightening, but we are not surrendering.”
Step 6: Communicate the “why” in plain language
The best budget message answers three questions:
What’s the constraint?
What did we decide and why?
What happens next?
I prefer to write budget communications the way I’d explain them to a smart person outside higher education. If you can’t explain it plainly, you probably haven’t made the tradeoff explicit enough.
How to reduce regret after the decision
Even with a strong framework, decisions can still be painful. What reduces regret is not perfection but rather integrity throughout the process:
You stated the constraint honestly
You used a consistent method
You acknowledged impacts
You protected mission-critical outcomes
You followed up to manage second-order effects
Budgeting is a leadership act, not an accounting exercise.

