The teacher and scholar had no children of his own, but he fostered the careers 
of two generations 
of school administrators. Cubberley, in fact, helped create the profession. In 
large part as a 
result of his work, school administration parted ways with teaching, growing 
into a separate field 
with its own conventions and body of knowledge.
 
 | 
Stanford University's Ellwood P. 
Cubberley is credited with 
separating educational administration from the teaching profession. He 
advocated the "scientific" 
study of school administration. --Stanford University
 | 
 Cubberley, the founding father of a profession, 
was paternal in other senses, too. 
Though hardly remarked on in his day, his 
views were riddled 
with assumptions about the natural superiority of men like himself—white, Anglo-
Saxon, 
native-born—and the American society they had shaped. In practical terms, the 
reforms he and his 
circle spurred helped ensure that women would largely remain the workers in a 
system managed by 
men.
Born just after the Civil War in the tiny town of Andrews, Ind., the 
future leader attended 
the local public schools and helped out at his father's drugstore. Because his 
high school lacked a 
year of the required four for admission to college, Cubberley completed a 
college-preparatory 
program at Purdue University. 
He was cool to his father's plan that he 
attend the pharmacy 
school 
there, but it was not until he heard David Starr Jordan, the president of 
Indiana University, 
lecture on "The Value of Higher Education" that he set his own course. 
Cubberley entered Indiana 
University with Jordan as his adviser. During his senior year, Cubberley ran 
the stereopticon 
lantern that often enlivened Jordan's public lectures. Handsome, friendly, and 
hard-working, the 
physics major made a good impression. 
After a year's interruption to teach 
at a one-room school 
near his hometown, he earned his degree in 1891. Jordan successfully 
recommended him for a science 
teaching position at a small Baptist college and a little later for a similar 
position at Vincennes 
University, also in Indiana. 
After two years as a professor there, at the 
age of 25, Cubberley 
was named president of the institution.
In 1896, once again thanks to his 
mentor Jordan, the 
young 
college president moved up to become the superintendent of the San Diego public 
schools. Probably 
without knowing it at the time and still thinking of himself as a scientist 
with a particular 
interest in geology, Cubberley not only changed jobs, he also changed the focus 
of his professional 
life from then on.
Business as a Model
His two-year tenure in the 
California district 
was not smooth, and it left the former college president with a strong 
sentiment against 
"politicized" school boards and elected school officials. 
Already an 
enthusiastic student of 
biological 
evolution, Cubberley concluded that a similar process was at work socially. The 
existing social 
order was therefore the product of an objective process that weeded out 
maladaptive arrangements. 
Further, in the face of massive immigration and labor unrest, the urgent 
mission of the schools was 
to win the day for solidarity and the American way of life while preparing 
individuals for their 
differing destinies by class.  
Reflecting the temper of the times, Cubberley 
was also enamored 
of 
"business efficiency." He believed that the best way to achieve efficiency in 
education, as in 
business, was by building a multilayered organization headed by 
experts.
"Cubberley had an 
intensely hierarchical view of leadership,'' with little room for 
decisionmaking by teachers, write 
David B. Tyack and Elizabeth Hansot in their comprehensive 1982 account of 
public school 
leadership, 
Managers of Virtue.  
Craving a wider scope for his talents, Cubberley 
in 1898 accepted an 
appointment to Stanford University, which was then headed by his old mentor, 
Jordan. Though he had 
never taken an education class and had no advanced degree, Cubberley became the 
second professor in 
the new education department, with orders to make the field respectable or face 
closing up shop. 
The energetic and organized Cubberley not only saved the department, he also 
remade himself into 
a fit head for it, earning master's and doctoral degrees at Teachers College, 
Columbia University, 
during leaves from Stanford. At the same time, he began to formulate a program 
for the 
"scientific'' 
study of school administration and met other educators who were to form his 
intellectual 
circle.
Widespread Influence
Entrenched school bureaucracies and 
the "tracking" of 
students in 
high schools have their roots in the successes of Cubberley and other members 
of the informal  
network of academics, foundation leaders, and urban school superintendents that 
held the greatest 
sway in American education from about 1910 to 1930. Like Cubberley, many of 
them attended graduate 
school at Teachers College in the early years of the century.  
In time, 
Cubberley became a 
renowned author and consultant, carrying his message of social improvement to 
the nation. In the 
midst of public lectures, teaching, and scholarship, he found the time to 
propose and edit the 
first 
widely used series of textbooks in education—106 of them, 10 written by 
Cubberley himself. 
And 
he 
published in 1919 what for many years was the standard history of American 
education, Public 
Education in the United States. 
In California, "Dad" Cubberley's 
influence was widespread. 
Eventually stepping up to dean of the education school at Stanford, he advised 
on professional and 
policy matters related to education, and he helped dozens of graduates find 
jobs through his 
personal connections—a power one observer likened to that of New York City's 
Tammany Hall 
politicians.
Much of that activity was profitable, and Cubberley invested 
well. He enjoyed a 
comfortable life with his wife, Helen, provided for her after his death in 
1941, and in the end 
gave 
more than $360,000 to his beloved Stanford University for a new building to 
house the school of 
education.
The leadership ideal that Cubberley held and embodied was, in 
Tyack and Hansot's term, 
"an educational Teddy Roosevelt''—charging up the San Juan Hill of ignorance 
one minute, gracious 
to 
women, children, and subordinates in the next. 
The image, however, cannot 
comfortably stretch to 
cover non-European men, or lay people, or women, and the dean led the way in 
disparaging the very 
electoral processes that were most likely to bring outsiders to the 
decisionmaking table. 
Cubberley's influence was profound for a half-century, but by the 1970s, his 
outlook and many of 
his ideals seemed hopelessly outdated and undemocratic. What the education 
historian Lawrence A. 
Cremin called the "wonderful world'' of Ellwood P. Cubberley had dimmed at 
last.