I increasingly try to avoid commenting on US elite university campus politics. I have been away for too long, and — when you reach a certain age — all the ‘controversies’ blend into each other and start to take on the characteristics of a grotesque carnival. I don’t mean to trivialize the culture-wars as merely “psychodrama” or “veil of insignificance” (which they often are); they do radiate out even into the imperial periphery (where I scribble away) where media, politicians, activists, and students end up role-playing them, too.
But I break my policy because the resignation of President Liz Magill (UPenn) has far-reaching consequences. I view her resignation, and the events leading up to it, as a symptom of a two-fold corruption: first, it’s the corruption caused by a systematic conflation between ‘freedom of speech’ and academic freedom. For, university presidents have a role-occupational obligation to defend the latter, unless doing so threatens the survival of their institution altogether. (I return to this below).
The second corruption involves an apparent paradox: as private universities’ endowments have ballooned, which one might expect make them more independent, they have simultaneously become more sensitive to private donor influence. This is especially disconcerting because, as the political interference by the state (Florida, Texas, etc.) intensifies and we’re in for a lengthy spell in which politicians will intimidate academics, such defense of independence will be ever more needed.
The two issues are connected in the present moment. University presidents Stateside are primarily hired to be fundraisers and managers of sprawling (and rather complex) administrative apparatus. Even so, the defense of academic freedom ought to be an intrinsic part of their jobs. Without academic freedom the intrinsic (and social) mission of a university is compromised. Too often university presidents improvise their way through each episode of controversy. Following the inspiring work of Jacob T. Levy and Shannon Dea, I have been writing about the increasing costs of such improvisation (often also for my own local campus newspaper in Dutch).
Not all universities have the same mission, and the way they interpret academic freedom ought to reflect that. That is to say, there is no one-size-fits-all idea or definition of academic freedom. Even when one agrees locally on the nature of academic freedom apt for one’s institution, there may still be a place for rather important differences in judgment. For example, the signers of the famous Kalven report (recall here) disagreed with each other whether true political neutrality was possible in the decisions of the university, when acting as a corporate body. Such decisions involve the awarding of honors, but also the activities of corporate board and offers of the university, including its President (or Rector).
It’s worth emphasizing this because sometimes the Kalven report is interpreted as suggesting that a university can stay out of politics altogether in its corporate capacity. But that’s not true. The report recognizes that a university may come into conflict with society even when the corporation tries to stay out of politics (as the report does recommend). I return to this below.
I mention the Kalven report because my claim that University presidents have a role-occupational obligation to defend the academic freedom of the university, unless doing so threatens the survival of their institution altogether just is the Kalven report’s position. I find the Kalven report admirable because it is clearly designed to create a framework that allows scholars (teachers and students) the widest possible latitude in pursuing enquiry and education as they sit fit.
Of course, and this is easily forgotten, individual scholars are also part of a curriculum and disciplinary standards, and often these may well shape and constrain speech in all kinds of ways even in the most liberal conceptions of academic freedom. Teaching astrology as true science of human affairs may well be cause for dismissal in a number of fields. A student, who is systematically interrupting a lecturer to share a conspiracy theory, is not protected by academic freedom. She is also not protected when she tries to enroll in a course without having met the minimal entry requirements (and so on).
Part of Penn’s problems originate in the fact that while it has a very highfaluting set of commitments (e.g., “academic excellence”…. “responsible citizenship”…”exhibit responsible behavior”) and a whole number of students’ rights, in its official ‘student code of conduct,’ it also is pretty explicit it thinks of speech in terms of the US’s first amendment. So, it will look away when one engages in what is known as hate speech: “the content of student speech or expression is not by itself a basis for disciplinary action.” This made it difficult for President Liz Magill to avoid even the first step of the trap that was set for her by Rep Elise Stefanik (R., N.Y.) because calling for genocide is protected speech.
Penn already knew it had a problem in this area because it has a law professor, Amy Wax, who is known for inflicting “intentional and incessant racist, sexist, xenophobic and homophobic actions and statements” on her students in the classroom (amongst other places). (I am quoting Penn’s own administrative view on the matter; perhaps they are biased in doing so.) For years it ignored Wax because of the university’s tendency to conflate academic and free speech, even though it also has wording in its faculty handbook that is supposed to prevent “discriminatory treatment of students.” (But speech is not discrimination, etc.)
Some academics — associated with the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education [FIRE] — are explicitly committed to the freedom of speech as the right campus policy. FIRE explicitly defines a “speech code” as any university regulation or policy that prohibits expression that would be protected by the First Amendment in society at large and is committed to fighting them. Such a position could work if consistently applied, but usually private universities fail to do so (e.g., Penn “finished second to last” in FIRE’s “College Free Speech Rankings.” This is primarily due to its inconsistencies in protecting speech.) To FIRE’s credit it argues that calling for genocide is, thus, protected speech (see this amusing clip on Bill Maher).
But FIRE has also welcomed the resignation of Magill, and commented that it “can be exactly what the university needs to restore free expression.” But Magill did not resign because people were worried about her retreat from free expression; she was made to resign because donors and even her board members at Wharton (Penn’s business school) want her to police campus speech more. And her resignation will have a chilling effect because it emboldens all donors to permeate (even more) the barriers between donations and impact on academic and intellectual policy.
So, here’s where there’s another important contrast between academic freedom and freedom of speech. Donor influence on university policy on campus speech is a very clear violation of academic freedom in most academic settings. It’s not, however, obviously a violation of freedom of speech; money talks. This is one reason why I prefer thinking about campus speech (at private universities that can carve out their own rules) in terms of academic freedom.*
I don’t mean to be defending President Magill, and the two other university presidents that testified alongside her. But that’s because her testimony dishonored the university. The testimony was bad politics and bad intellectually unworthy of a great and independent university. But I would have preferred she stepped down quietly at some later date, not immediately cave to donor pressure.
As an aside, one of the signatures on the Kalven report, George Stigler (who later won a Nobel in economics), was in the minority on one point. In it he insisted “The university when it acts in its corporate capacity…should, of course, conduct its affairs with honor.” In context, it’s clear Stigler primarily has its actions “as employer and property owner” in mind. But one can apply it more widely.
I could stop here, but there are two further, connected angles to all of this that it would be cowardly to ignore. Before I continue, as regular readers know I am a Zionist with much criticism of actually existing Zionism. If this is your first time reading me I encourage you to also read what I have to say about it.
First, the revival of American White nationalism, since the Trump era (whose administration was, let's stipulate, pro-Zionist), is undermining the public role of Jewish life in American politics and civil life. Meanwhile the State of Israel understands its interest as independent and distinct from the survival of American Jewry in America (recall this post and this one). October 7 and the reactions to it in many ‘decolonizing’ circles have mobilized pro-Zionists to encourage Jews to circle the wagons anew in pro-Israel terms.
Magill’s testimony was elicited because many Jews (not just pro-Zionist influencers) have disquiet about perceived double standards in enforcement of campus speech and a sense that on-campus harassment of Jews is more tolerated when it is dressed up in antizionist rhetoric and behavior. That is, of course, compatible with the fact that often pro-Palestine academics and students have become victims of cancel culture, even before we had the term. (It’s been a decade since I wrote about the Salaita case.)
My own view is that it’s healthy for universities and wider society that students can bring politics to campus and mobilize against what they perceive to be injustice. These are focal points for learning for those involved and the wider campus. They are also an education in the skills of organization, coalition building, and social mobilization. Universities that claim to teach for “citizenship” (e.g. Penn) should give students wide berth to make mistakes in doing so. I warmly recommend what Sukaina Hirji and Serene J. Khader write about this in The Chronicle of Higher Education a few days ago. (See also my less eloquent version of similar thoughts translated from Dutch in my campus newspaper.)
Second, Magill’s testimony was also elicited because in MAGA-land independent universities that might be a refuge for free thought are not welcome. In virtue of the muddle that universities had made of campus speech they saw an opening to attack and intimidate university leadership. This has succeeded beyond Maga-land’s wildest dreams. The awful spectacle at the congressional hearing and the embarrassing subsequent responses (Harvard University’s President, Dr. Gay, explicitly apologized in part by claiming, I am not making this up, “Substantively, I failed to convey what is my truth”) undermine the intellectual authority and independence not just of a few individuals, but of the academy more generally. (The examples can be multiplied!)
Ideally, the wealthy private universities Stateside would use this unfolding legitimacy crisis to return to their first principles and try to figure out what they stand for, and at what cost before they slide of the precipice. But I fear they will continue to conflate a growing endowment with a vibrant intellectual and scientific culture.
*In a lot of public universities campus speech is simply regulated by law and statue. And how to protect academic freedom in it is no easy matter.
Partly just bad debate prep. When facing a public interrogation, give nuanced answers to "Yes or No" questions, and refuse to answer hypothetical questions. It's scarcely likely that Congress is going to imprison you for contempt, however upset the interrogating Congressperson might be.