The Illusion of Certainty
I’ll admit it: my crystal ball is broken.
If I had one, I could sit here and tell you exactly what the higher education landscape will look like in 2030. I could forecast enrollment with surgical precision, predict labor costs down to the penny, and tell you whether today’s high school sophomores, the Class of 2031, will want ramen bowls, Mediterranean street food, plant-based barbecue or national brands when they arrive on your campus.
But the truth is, no one has that kind of foresight. And yet, every year we watch operators and some institutions fall into the same trap, pretending they do. They misinterpret student behavior and make incremental changes, reissue the same RFP, or cling to old dining models, as if yesterday’s assumptions will hold up tomorrow.
They won’t.
The pandemic should have taught us that. The enrollment cliff should be reminding us of that every day, and still, many leaders cling to a broken crystal ball rather than facing the uncomfortable truth: the future will not wait for you to catch up.
What Strategic Planning Is Not
Too often, “strategic planning” is treated as an exercise in paperwork or a defensive maneuver:
- Producing a binder of recommendations that sits on a shelf.
- Commissioning a market study that recycles last year’s data.
- Asking a committee to tweak meal plans to appease complaints.
That’s not planning. That’s procrastination dressed up in process.
Real strategic planning is not about predicting the future; it’s about preparing for it. It’s about designing systems and programs that are resilient, flexible, and aligned with your institution’s mission. It’s about recognizing that dining is not peripheral; it’s central to retention, housing occupancy, student well-being, and long-term financial health.
What We See from the Ground Floor
Here’s what my team and I know, not from a crystal ball, but from being in the trenches with more than 400 institutions across the U.S., Canada, and the United Kingdom:
- Retention matters more than recruitment. A lost first-year student represents four years of lost tuition, housing, and dining revenue. National retention rates between 60–80% are unsustainable.
- Dining is SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™. The first 45 days on campus determine whether freshmen build the connections that keep them enrolled. Dining spaces are where that happens.
- Students want authenticity. Global flavors, wellness-driven menus, and allergen transparency aren’t perks anymore—they’re expectations.
- Flexibility is currency. Meal plans that integrate with retail, mobile ordering, and even off-campus partners create value that students recognize and parents respect.
- Contracts are leverage points. Institutions who fail to renegotiate outdated agreements are leaving hundreds of thousands, sometimes millions, on the table.
This isn’t theory. It’s lived reality on campuses every single day.
Why We Don’t Just Advise
Too many consultants are happy to sit across the table, hand you a report, and cash a check. That’s not how we work.
At Porter Khouw Consulting, we don’t just advise, we partner. We collaborate. We immerse ourselves in your community until we truly see you and hear you.
That means:
- Eating with your students and listening to their unfiltered feedback.
- Walking through your facilities with your staff, not just your administrators.
- Mapping the flows of traffic, culture, and connection across campus.
- Identifying the emotional as well as financial drivers of your dining program.
When we tell you what’s working, or what isn’t, it’s because we’ve been on the ground, not because we stared into a crystal ball.
My Crystal Ball Is Broken. Good.
If my crystal ball worked, I’d risk being complacent. I’d tell you what’s coming, and you’d wait for it to happen.
But because it’s broken, I’m forced to listen harder, to observe more closely, to connect dots that others miss, and that’s the essence of effective planning: not predicting the future, but creating it.
The Class of 2031 is not looking for yesterday’s answers. They’re not choosing colleges based on the cheapest meal plan or the longest dining hall hours. They’re choosing based on community, authenticity, and the promise of belonging.
If your dining program isn’t delivering that, you don’t have a food service problem; you have a strategic problem.
The Risks of Doing Nothing
Let’s be blunt. If you continue operating with outdated assumptions and broken contracts, here’s what’s at stake:
- Declining retention. Every student who leaves represents not just tuition loss but a permanent hole in auxiliary revenues.
- Empty beds. Housing occupancy is tied directly to the value of your residential dining program. A weak dining program equals empty residence halls.
- Reputation erosion. Prospective students talk. A dining program seen as outdated or inflexible will undermine recruitment efforts.
- Financial stagnation. Without renegotiation, institutions miss out on six- and seven-figure improvements in contract remuneration.
The cost of inaction dwarfs the cost of planning.
The Power of Strategic Planning Done Right
When done correctly, strategic planning is transformative. It integrates:
- Financial Modeling – Ensuring dining strengthens the bottom line rather than drains it.
- Operational Alignment – Building business systems, staffing models, and procurement strategies that scale.
- Student-Centric Design – Crafting spaces and programs that serve as hubs of SOCIAL ARCHITECTURE™.
- Ethnographic Market Research – Immersing ourselves in your dining program and culture to see and hear your students and community firsthand, beyond surveys, beyond assumptions, capturing lived experiences that truly shape outcomes.
- Vendor Leverage – Using data, not guesswork, to negotiate agreements that serve the institution—not just the operator.
I’ve watched institutions who had the courage to reinvent their programs achieve outcomes they never thought possible:
- Meal plan participation climbing upwards by 20% or more.
- Surpluses where deficits once loomed.
- Housing occupancy stabilizing as students choose to stay.
- Dining programs becoming models of sustainability and inclusion.
That’s not prediction, that’s proof.
From Vision to Action: Step-by-Step Recommendations
Talking about strategy is easy. Acting on it is hard. That’s why our process doesn’t end with a report; it begins there. We guide institutions through an intentional, step-by-step pathway that ensures plans become reality:
- Workshops with Campus Stakeholders – Bringing students, faculty, staff, and administrators into the same room. These sessions surface the lived experiences, frustrations, and opportunities that rarely make it into committee minutes.
- Executive Management Retreats – Focused time away from the daily grind to reset priorities, align leadership, and establish the non-negotiables of your institution’s dining vision.
- Team Building for Dining & Auxiliary Leaders – We don’t just analyze, we help unify your leadership team. Breaking silos and building trust are critical for executing change that sticks.
- Contract Negotiation & Renegotiation – This is where strategic planning meets bottom-line impact. We are unapologetically the least apathetic in the industry when it comes to renegotiating food service agreements. We don’t let opportunities slip, and we don’t leave money on the table. Our ITN (Invitation to Negotiate) process is laser-focused on ensuring the contract serves your institution first, not the vendor.
When you follow this pathway, strategic planning stops being a theoretical exercise and becomes a catalyst for cultural and financial transformation.
The Call to Action
The institutions that will thrive in the next decade are the ones that stop pretending they can see the future and start building it.
You don’t need a crystal ball. You need a partner who will immerse themselves in your community, listen deeply, and craft strategies that make your campus more resilient, more attractive, and more successful.
Fall 2025 is locked in, but Fall 2026 and the Class of 2031 are wide open. The question is: will you seize this window, or will you wait until it closes?
My crystal ball is broken, and maybe that’s the best news you’ll hear all year.
