Current talk about the Obama Administration’s trouble with transparency reveals a strong parallel with sustainability-oriented businesses: it’s easy (and sounds so nice) to say you’re committed to transparency; try to deliver on that promise and you’re likely to encounter walls of uncertainty, fear, and bureaucratic resistance.

When transparency means revealing unfavorable or unflattering information (and it usually does to some extent), companies and institutions often get cold feet. They consider the negative publicity that could ensue and decide they can’t risk it. What they often fail to consider is the risk of continuing to hide and the benefits of public confession.

Someone’s bound to find out your secrets eventually, and then you have no control over the story. On the other hand, social psychology research, along with plenty of anecdotal evidence, shows that organizations that acknowledge problems—and say what they’re doing to address them—are perceived as more credible. Telling the truth makes you trustworthy. This is why attention to challenges is a factor in the Thinkshift Credibility Quotient™ (see an earlier post on how this applies to companies introducing advanced technologies).

You may be familiar with one of the best examples of transparency and acknowledging challenges: Patagonia’s Footprint Chronicles program, which traces the company’s products through the supply chain. If not, here’s a look at the site in action:

I look up a jacket, and the website tells me the sustainability “good” (it’s recyclable), and the “bad” (the waterproof finish uses a chemical that persists in the environment). It also tells me they’re researching alternatives, but for now the finish stays because it’s essential to performance.

The fact that they’re telling me a negative thing makes the positives they point out all the more credible. It also has the interesting effect of making me as a potential purchaser share responsibility. They’ve told me about the chemical; if I want to reduce its incidence, I can forego waterproofing. If I want the waterproofing, I am partly responsible for the sustainability problem. Nice, huh?

Sierra Magazine has released its annual “Cool Schools” environmental rankings of U.S. colleges and universities. Their rating appears to be just that—an assessment of the school’s green hip factor. At least, that’s what I’m left to guess. The magazine based its ratings on questionnaires sent to the schools and doesn’t disclose many details about how it evaluated the answers.

A comparison of the top 10 rankings from all three years Sierra has ranked these institutions shows the ratings aren’t consistent, either. Only two—Middlebury and Oberlin—made the top 10 all three years. Yale, a model of sustainability, has never hit the top of the list (it’s #14 this year). And Warren Wilson, a school that lives and breathes environmentalism, ranked #3 in 2007 but dropped to #18 this year.

As a result, it’s not very credible, even though the Sierra Club is a highly respected organization. (Full disclosure: I’m a member.)

Part of this can be explained by the explosion of schools that are making sustainability a priority. There are simply lots more colleges and universities making green claims. Now more than ever, those that communicate best about their programs—providing full information, with clear measures of success—will get the recognition.

I’ve found that educational institutions are uncomfortable about trumpeting their work generally and about marketing in particular. But they shouldn’t be. There’s a lot at stake. Both parents and prospective students care a lot about whether a school is green, with two-thirds of them saying the it would influence their decision to apply or attend, according to Princeton Review’s 2009 “College Hopes and Worries” survey.

Universities are not generally known as hotbeds of modesty, but you’d never guess that by looking at university sustainability websites.

One of the most common flaws is a lack of focus on what the university is doing, and how its institutional values and educational commitments influence its approach to sustainability. Instead, many sites speak in generalities about what sustainability is (I’ve lost count of the number of sites that quote the U.N. definition on their home page or in another prominent position), why it’s important, and what people can do about it.

The problem is, there are countless resources online for that kind of information, and generalities on why it matters don’t engage people in sustainability initiatives. When key audiences come to a university site they want to know what actions the university is taking, how those actions relate to the university’s mission and community responsibilities, and how people on campus can participate. That’s why, as I said in a previous post, the best sites put school policies, goals, and strategy front and center.

If you’re going to define sustainability, do it in terms of what it means to Whatever U. Describe why efforts in each sustainability area are important in Whatever U’s context (cold winters, water shortages, etc.). Tailor tips to campus goals and your specific audiences (there’s little point in telling students who live in dorm rooms how much carbon they can cut by weatherizing their home). And cite your achievements—they tell people that your sustainability message is more than talk.