When Eric Kaler assumed the presidency of the University of Minnesota in 2011, he inherited headaches surrounding the 2004 death of Dan Markingson, who had been a subject in an antipsychotic drug test trial. Since Markingson's tragic suicide, charges and countercharges have persisted regarding responsibility for what went wrong. But there is another aspect to the tragedy that deserves our attention.

Colleges, departments, centers and programs at major American research universities are too often inadequately led, managed and administered. But how could it be otherwise? What is there in the training of a professor that equips him or her to lead, manage and oversee the administration of an entity that may employ dozens or hundreds of employees, along with many hundreds of thousands or many millions of dollars of annual revenue?

To be sure, some professors who assume the role of department head or dean turn out to be quick studies and develop effective skills on the job. But most readily admit they weren't prepared for the challenges they met. The University of Minnesota is no exception to this pattern.

Years ago, in a simpler time, academic departments were composed of groups of (mainly) male professors with common academic backgrounds, similar professional outlook and shared ideas about the unit's mission. There wasn't much money; everyone understood their individual responsibilities, and all lived in what — by today's standards — we might term "genteel poverty." Professors took turns serving as department chair or head, with administrative support from a department secretary or two. They continued their teaching and research, with added involvement in college and university affairs until their term or office concluded.

But today the job of running even a medium-sized academic department or center is close to a full-time commitment; many professors who take on the running of a department or college run into situations they have trouble handling. Professors are expected to be relatively autonomous in their research and teaching; they are accustomed to being rewarded for their individual performances. If they show scholarly promise in their first few years on the job, they get promoted and are awarded tenure. If they languish professionally in middle age, well, we just put up with it.

Department heads and chairs have to deal with these cases, but they are trained neither to mentor or stimulate colleagues who fall behind, nor to steer them to professional or personal help they may need to get moving again. Some people work well alone, but others do their best work only within a team effort. Yet except in certain of the lab sciences, there are few traditions in academia of rewarding the performance of a team, or of providing incentives for people to work together in teams.

In December 2012, the Wall Street Journal ran a story comparing what the reporters claimed were "unusually high administrative costs" at the University of Minnesota with similar costs at 71 other "very-high-research public universities" in the U.S. The story generated varied reactions, from complaints of sloppy data analysis to observations that major league research universities are complicated places where there is little that is routine, so leadership and management costs are inevitably high. But some comments also implied that the university could improve its internal leadership and management practices.

So here's the bottom line: Universities regularly get into trouble because things happen due to inept or untrained leadership of colleges, departments, programs or centers. Just about every week the Chronicle of Higher Education or Inside Higher Ed carry stories of major problems on campuses that can be traced to academic leaders making serious errors. To say "mistakes were made" is to accept responsibility — but what then?

Former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld famously remarked following the debacle in Iraq, "there are known knows; there are things we know we know. We also know there are known unknowns … ."

Rumsfeld's critics scoffed at the remark, but he was correct. In academia many truly believe — despite ample evidence to the contrary — that it is not known how to lead and manage a successful college or academic department; that capable leadership, effective management and sound administrative practice cannot be taught to those who will assume the running of academic units.

It seems to me that's where the problem lies — with the known unknowns.

The long-term solution for avoiding Markingson-type tragedies would be to ensure that all those entrusted with running academic units are properly trained to do so, which will mean a major break with tradition and a serious reappraisal of what we need from university human-resource development efforts.

John S. Adams is emeritus professor of geography, planning and public affairs at the University of Minnesota.