Chris Gray, Ph.D.
Founding President, Erie County Community College of Pennsylvania
One of the unexpected gifts of leadership is realizing how much you still do not know. I've been at this a long time, and I still get surprised.
Recently, I attended a national training for college presidents where the conversations ranged from enrollment pressures to public trust to the future of workforce education. But one discussion lingered with me long after the conference ended. It was not about politics or demographics or funding models. It was about ransomware.
Like many people, I thought I understood the basics. I knew ransomware was expensive. I knew it disrupted organizations. I knew it was something handled largely by IT departments working quietly behind the scenes.
What I did not fully appreciate was how quickly a cyberattack can become an institutional crisis.
One president shared the story of a community college that suffered a ransomware attack so severe that systems remained compromised for an extended period of time. Recruitment stalled. Student confidence eroded. Daily operations became chaotic. The damage rippled outward enrollment, then to finances and reputation. Eventually, the college closed its doors.
That story stayed with me because community colleges operate on trust. Students trust us with their education, their financial information, their personal data, and often their futures. We are built to be open and accessible institutions, and that openness, while central to our mission, can also create vulnerabilities.
Higher education has become an increasingly attractive target for cybercriminals because colleges hold enormous amounts of sensitive information while often operating with limited resources. Large universities may have entire cybersecurity divisions. Smaller colleges frequently rely on lean IT teams who somehow manage to do the work of twenty people before lunch.
The more I listened during the training, the more I realized this is no longer simply a technical issue. It is a leadership issue.
At its core, ransomware is a form of extortion. Someone gains access to an institution's systems in order to lock down critical files or operations before demanding payment to restore access. Sometimes the attackers also steal sensitive information and threaten to release it publicly if the institution refuses to comply.
The practical consequences are immediate. Employees lose access to payroll and email systems. Students cannot register for classes or access coursework. Financial aid systems freeze. Phones stop working. Communication breaks down at the exact moment clear communication matters most.
What surprised me most, however, was learning how many attacks begin not with advanced hacking but with ordinary human behavior.
Most ransomware incidents still start with phishing attempts. A message arrives that appears legitimate. It may look like a request from Human Resources, a routine banking update, or an invoice from a vendor. Sometimes the email references real names, real projects, current initiatives, or actual conversations. The goal is simple: create just enough urgency and familiarity that someone clicks before thinking.
And honestly, some of these messages are remarkably convincing.
I have received emails that appeared completely authentic at first glance. During the training, leaders shared examples sophisticated enough to fool experienced professionals. These attacks do not succeed because people are careless. They succeed because modern work environments move quickly and inboxes never stop filling; cybercriminals have become extraordinarily skilled at exploiting routine and trust.
That reality shifted my thinking. We often imagine cybersecurity as a wall built by technology, but in truth it is also a culture built by people. Awareness matters. Training matters. Communication matters. Leadership attention matters.
Another important lesson involved timing: I assumed ransomware attacks happened instantly, like flipping a switch. In reality, attackers may spend weeks or even months quietly exploring systems before launching the actual attack. They study vulnerabilities, identify critical infrastructure, gather information to plan their approach, and wait until they believe they have maximum leverage.
By the time an institution realizes something is wrong, the crisis may already be well underway.
That is also why panic can become dangerous. One cybersecurity expert explained that attackers often monitor communications after an attack occurs. Internal confusion or emotional responses can complicate negotiations and worsen outcomes. It becomes essential for leadership teams to respond calmly and deliberately, working in coordination with cybersecurity professionals.
This is one reason cyber insurance has become so important in higher education. Strong policies do far more than provide financial protection. They activate teams of forensic investigators, legal experts, and specialized negotiators trained for exactly these situations. In other words, institutions do not have to improvise during one of the worst days imaginable.
When I returned to campus, one of my first conversations was with our IT leadership team. I wanted an honest assessment of our current posture, our vulnerabilities, our plans, and the areas where we still needed to improve.
If you know good IT professionals, you know their answer is almost always the same: there is always more work to do.
Frankly, that answer reassured me.
Cybersecurity is not a finish line. It is an ongoing process of vigilance, adaptation, evaluation, and investment. Strong institutions are not the ones that assume they are untouchable. Strong institutions are the ones willing to ask hard questions before a crisis forces them to.
I left the training with a deeper respect for the professionals who safeguard our systems every day, often invisibly and without recognition. More importantly, I left with the understanding that cybersecurity is now part of institutional stewardship itself.
The risks are real. The threats are evolving. But so is our awareness.
And awareness, thankfully, is where preparation begins.
Our community. Your college.
