University of Hawaii President M.R.C. Greenwood probably would not have chosen this particular moment for her annual job evaluation to begin, considering that she’s been held beneath harsh interrogation lamps over the debacle of the bogus Stevie Wonder concert.

But her evaluation is on the UH Board of Regents calendar. It’s an extensive process, likely to take until May, conducted by a task group of three board members. Under these circumstances, the board’s decision to conduct the entire sequence without input from the public, faculty, staff or students seems especially tone-deaf.

Standard procedure by most boards that have hiring and firing powers is that such discussions be conducted behind closed doors; retreating to "executive sessions" to handle personnel-related matters is as appropriate in this case as in any other. But the regents have plenty of room to let in some sunshine.

There are many elements that go into a comprehensive performance review for such a position. Greenwood needs to go through a rigorous examination by the task group, focusing on the full spectrum of her responsibilities, including an accounting of research grants attracted, academic programs launched or strengthened, and the overall direction of the 10-campus university system. The process should serve as a reminder that there’s more to UH — and to Greenwood’s contributions to its management — than the travails of UH-Manoa’s athletics department.

The question, however, is whether the regents really should retreat into such complete secrecy as is being practiced. The answer should be an emphatic "no," especially when viewed through the lens of the past few months of the "Wonder Blunder" fiasco and the cloud of suspicion over how the regents addressed it — once again, secretly and behind closed doors.

The Star-Advertiser obtained task-group memos through the Freedom of Information Act, and Greenwood has earned an "exceptional" rating every year. However, the public already has been left in the dark about many things. For example, few may even realize the president had been rated at all, because the regents did not post the fact of the evaluation on its agenda.

That would seem to violate the state sunshine law, and it strongly suggests corrective action should be taken. A not-so-gentle push from state attorneys, clarifying open-records mandates under the law, would help in this case.

What’s mystifying is why the regents would go to such great lengths to sequester itself from the public entirely. They’re no doubt deterred by the hostile climate: The UH Faculty Senate, for example, is contemplating a no-confidence vote on Greenwood.

Regardless, the regents owe the community an opportunity to express its views, and to have them seriously considered. Greenwood’s salary is not part of the evaluation process — it’s considered through a separate appeal and the president has not sought a raise since she was hired in 2009. However, the taxpayers’ stake is plain enough. Greenwood makes $427,512 a year, plus a $5,000 monthly housing allowance.

Furthermore, the most important stakeholders — the students — deserve at least an invitation to comment in writing, especially in the context of a university system where budget cuts have curtailed class capacity for students while UH keeps adding to an already top-heavy administration.

Regents might be pleasantly surprised. No doubt many students, faculty and alumni take pride in their university, and have its best interests at heart. And Greenwood deserves the opportunity for her supporters to be heard; certainly her detractors have been. What’s important is that this discussion be done, as much as possible, in public.

The university belongs to our community. There’s already been enough concealment lately, and it hasn’t played out very well. A change in strategy — opening the door to the ivory tower, just a crack — seems in order.