Category Archives: Essays

David Horowitz: Battlefield Notes from a War Gone Unnoticed

I have been reading essays by David Horowitz for nearly fifty years, starting when he became an editor of the radical new-left magazine, Ramparts, in 1968, and I was a high school student prepping for debates about the Vietnam war. David famously moved beyond his red diaper origins, his Marxist enthusiasms, and his admiration of Huey Newton and the Black Panther Party. In time he became a self-professed conservative. The “Second Thoughts” conference he co-hosted in Washington, DC in 1987 came at a crucial moment for me.

Though I had long since lost any respect for the academic left, and I was strongly anti-communist, I had trouble recognizing the deeper character of my own political views. The forthright stand that David took alongside other formerly radical intellectuals opened my eyes. They made conservative thought thinkable for me: a plausible way to ground my sympathies in a living tradition.

Related: The Roots of Our New Civil War

My debt to David Horowitz came home vividly to me in reading his new volume of collected essays—volume eight in a series collectively titled “The Black Book of the American Left.” This volume, The Left in the University, bears the hefty burden of gathering his significant writings on American higher education, 1993 to 2010. A fair number of the 53 essays collected here, I’d read before. Reading them afresh and as part of a whole, however, is to see them in a more valedictory light.

Horowitz—I’ll retreat to the patronym from this point on—has plainly failed at that part of his intellectual project represented by this book. He has not arrested the radical left’s takeover of the university, let alone restored the ideal of a university that teaches “how to think, not what to think.” The diversity of ideas and outlooks that he has tirelessly promoted as the sine qua non of higher education is less in evidence today than it was when he started. Repression of conservative ideas and highhanded treatment of the people who voice those ideas has grown steadily worse. The dismal situation brought by the triumph of the progressive left on college campuses has darkened still further as a new generation of even more radicalized identitarian groups has emerged.

Related: The Long Plight of the Right on Campus

It is not that Horowitz is unaware that he has fought a losing battle. He understands that keenly, and a fair number of his essays ponder that fact. The reader may wonder why, with this failure so evident, Horowitz continues to fight. Surely, he has the motive to collect these essays other than simply documenting twenty-some years of futile campaigning on behalf of a lost cause? Horowitz has seldom lacked for constructive ideas to reform the university. Much of the book consists of his efforts to advance “The Academic Bill of Rights” and other measures that would have improved the situation. The book even ends with a “Plan for University Reform,” accompanied by the plaintiff note, “Written in 2010, before the AAUP eviscerated Penn State’s academic freedom policy.”

Horowitz never holds out hope that his proposals will at some later point leap back to life, as a smoldering coal might with a fresh breeze return to flame. To the contrary, his introduction includes a disavowal of the possibility: I publish it [that last essay] now because I have given up any hope that universities can institute such a reform. The faculty opposition is too devious and too strong, and even more importantly there is no conservative will to see such reforms enacted.”

Why No Greater Success?

What then? Why read this record of failure? One answer is that we can reject the author’s own judgment. Yes, his specific proposals failed, but Horowitz has done heroic work in building a conservative movement that will, I expect, one day prevail in re-establishing a form of higher education centered on the disinterested pursuit of knowledge. There are those of us who look to his work not just with admiration but for practical help in building this movement. The recent Pew poll that found 58 percent of Republicans saying that contemporary higher education has a negative effect on the country is testimony to the existence of this movement and to Horowitz’s actual legacy.

It may be fair to ask why Horowitz didn’t have greater success in the short term. The reasons may be many, but I will mention two. First, Horowitz framed his fight largely as a matter of combatting the Marxist premises of his opponents. He was surely right about those premises, and his collected articles are a gold mine of instances he which he calls out named individuals for their allegiance to the discredited ideas of that revolutionary. The trouble with this framing is that it flies over the heads of most ordinary Americans. To say that a professor is an acolyte of Stalin or an apologist for tyranny in some far-away place registers with only a fringe of Americans who take such things seriously. Who cares if some Ivy League English professor thinks that bourgeois American society is to be scorned and that Lenin or Mao was right? Maybe we should care—and indeed I care—but I also recognize that this point seems meaningless to most Americans who see themselves as “conservative.”

A Thunderbolt in 1983

The oldest essay in the book is a version of a speech Horowitz gave to the Modern Language Association in December 1993. It was a thunderbolt then, and it remains an astonishing tour de force. Horowitz calls out the MLA for “its assault on literature and its abandonment of the educational task,” and for “its burial of the literary subject under a mountain of feminist, Marxist, deconstructionist Kitsch.” He invokes the “empty files of ideological poseurs like [MLA presidents] Catherine Stimpson and Houston Baker to measure its descent into intellectual mediocrity and political attitudinizing.”

But back then, Horowitz was an optimist. His MLA address ends with the observation that “the demonization of American culture” was part of the “lowest ebb” of the American university in its 300- year history. Looking back at 1993 from the high Sahara-scape of academe in 2017, we know that that ebb tide didn’t turn. Its “melancholy, long, withdrawing roar” (as Matthew Arnold might put it) is now so withdrawn as to be barely audible. But perhaps that is what it took for Americans to begin to wonder whether higher education devoted to crackpot utopianism and un-freedom is really what we want from our colleges and universities.

He Frightened Many People

Horowitz’s anti-Marxist combativeness was one reason his movement stalled. It hit home against the radicals but not with the parents. The other reason his movement stalled, I suspect, is that he is characteristically a warrior and that he frightened many a good soul who might easily have been won over by someone with a lighter touch. Higher education is a context where students and parents want to believe the best. The best about the character and intelligence of the students. The best about the faculty, the campus, the teams. The best about what will come after college. The fierceness of Horowitz’s attacks frightened many who preferred the wish-fulfillment of the colleges and universities. A Jeremiah among critics of higher education, Horowitz’s voice was indispensable, but it was not destined to win large numbers of converts.

I cannot end even a short review of one of Horowitz’s book without acknowledging the quality of his writing. He is a superb essayist who excels at telling compelling stories without deviating a jot from the larger compelling ideas he is arguing. The Left in the University is valued as a preciously detailed account of how the radicals have despoiled American higher education, but it is also a collection of superbly written and argued accounts from the battlefield. Horowitz’s book might be thought of as war correspondence from a war most Americans didn’t realize was being fought.

Our Colleges Are Getting Worse—Three Proposals to Help Save Them

American colleges have been celebrated as the best in the world. But in fact, they have been getting worse – and something must be done about it.

The greatest value of a college education is in enhancing a student’s command of critical thinking and analytical reasoning. The educated person can think. Among other things, she can evaluate arguments from politicians, pundits, salespeople, business associates and others. She may not know whether a particular claim is correct, but she has a meaningful capacity to gauge whether a claim makes sense and to figure out how to investigate it.

For decades, researchers have been measuring how much college enhances these skills. A standard yardstick has been Collegiate Learning Assessment, or as it is known in its current iteration, the CLA+. That test is designed to measure critical thinking, analytical reasoning, problem-solving, and writing. For decades, it has been given to undergraduate students at the beginning of their freshman year and at the end of their sophomore year to see how much their analytic skills have improved.

‘Barely Noticeable Impact’

The CLA+ is an open-ended test; students are given performance and writing tasks, not multiple-choice questions. In one section of the test, students are asked to read a set of documents and write a memorandum presenting their conclusions about questions relating to the material. For example, students may be told they are working for a city mayor who plans to combat rising crime by increasing the number of city police officers. The mayor is running for reelection against a candidate who advocates spending available resources on a drug education program for addicts instead of on more police. Students are asked to read a set of newspaper articles, statistics, and research briefs about crime and drug addiction and then write a memorandum for the mayor that evaluates the validity of both the opponent’s proposal the opponent’s criticisms of the mayor’s plan. The CLA+ does not test general knowledge. Its designers claim that the only way to successfully prepare students for the test is to teach how “to think critically, reason analytically, solve problems, and communicate clearly.”

In one study, researchers administered the CLA in 2005 and again in 2007 to 2,322 students at 24 colleges that varied in admissions selectivity and other factors. Students increased their CLA scores by the equivalent of only seven percentile points over their first two years of college. Thus, on average, students who entered college at the 50thpercentile on the CLA scored at the 57th percentile near the end of their sophomore year. That is considered anemic progress. As the researchers put it, the first two years of college today “have a barely noticeable impact on students’ skills in critical thinking, complex reasoning, and writing.” By contrast, students in the 1980s increased their performance by the equivalent of 34 percentile points – rising from the 50th to the 84thpercentile. Other data confirm those findings

Why Have Colleges Gotten Worse?

Researchers suspect that the principal reason is that colleges have become less rigorous. Colleges more readily tolerate students doing little work, and more readily give good grades for mediocre performance. In the 1960s, students studied, on average, more than 24 hours per week outside of class. Even that is rather low. Undergraduates should be studying at least two hours outside of class for each hour of class. That would mean that for the average load of fifteen hours of class time they should be spending at least 30 hours on homework. But students today study only twelve hours per week on average. More than a third of students report studying less than five hours per week.

Moreover, 20% of students say they frequently go to class unprepared. Yet the average GPA in colleges today is 3.2. According to one recent study, 43% of all grades awarded in American colleges today are A’s. Meanwhile, the percentage of C’s has declined from 35% decades ago to 15% today. Grades and GPAs have become almost entirely meaningless.

Researchers also believe that a factor with a great impact on critical thinking skills is whether students take classes from instructors with high expectations. They define “high expectations” as assigning more than 40 pages of reading per week or more than 20 pages of writing per semester. Half of the students who took the CLA in their sophomore year reported that in the preceding semester they did not take a single class that required more than 20 pages of writing, and a third did not take a course requiring more than 40 pages of reading per week. Researchers observed: “If students are not being asked by their professors to read and write on a regular basis in their coursework, it is hard to imagine how they will improve their capacity to master performance tasks – such as the CLA – that involve critical thinking, complex reasoning, and writing.”

After controlling for many differences, including the selectivity of the college attended, students who reported they had taken high-expectation courses scored 27 points higher on the CLA than did students who had not taken such courses.

Do Away with Letter Grades

What should be done? I have three proposals. First, colleges should designate high-expectation courses in their catalogs and on student transcripts so that graduate schools and employers can see how many of such courses applicants have taken. As someone who often sits on my law school’s admissions committee, I know we would find this information extremely useful. It would indicate both how intellectually ambitious an applicant is and how well his studies prepared him for law school and for a career in the law. Making this information publicly available in the college catalog will also encourage colleges to increase the number of their high-expectation offerings. No college – and few instructors or academic departments – would want to be known as a purveyor of low expectations. Colleges must, of course, adopt mechanisms for ensuring that the designations are honest, and those mechanisms should be reviewed by accrediting agencies.

Second, instead of receiving a letter grade in courses student should receive a number designating the quartile of the class in which the student ranked. Students whose performance placed them in the top quartile of the class would receive a 1, students ranking in the second quartile would receive a 2, and so on. This is would be far more meaningful than our current system. It would also end grade inflation; after all, 43% of students could not be awarded the top grade of 1. Instead of GPAs, colleges should employ AQRs – average quartile ranks. For example, a student who ranked in the top quartile in half of her classes and in the second quartile of the other half her classes would have an AQR of 1.5. Colleges might also consider giving grades earned in high expectation courses a boost for AQR purposes, just as some high schools give a mathematical boost to grades earned in AP classes for the purpose of calculating GPAs.

Third, so-called output assessments are all the rage in education today. What could be a better measure than an instrument such as the CLA+? Colleges should require at least a significant cohort of their students to take such a test both on upon entering and again perhaps two years later, and should be making that information publicly available.

Do I think colleges will leap at my proposals? No, I don’t. Colleges will be resistant to adopting AQRs because doing so will make many students and their families unhappy. Letter grades hide a multitude of sins; performance by quartile is brutally transparent. However, graduate schools could pressure undergraduate colleges to provide quartile ranks and AQRs, if not instead of, then at least in addition to, GPAs. And for their own sake in being able to effectively evaluate applicants, graduate schools have good reason to do so. If graduate schools preferred students from programs that provided this information, undergraduate schools would be pressured to comply.

Designating high-expectation courses should be a bit easier. Some instructors will not like it. There may be something of a tacit agreement between some instructors and their students: the instructor demands little and awards high grades; in return, students reward the instructor with high student evaluations. However, colleges and departments that pride themselves on their rigor will see a competitive advantage in designating high expectation courses. Once some begin doing that others will have a hard time not following suit.

Accrediting agencies could require colleges to use a test like the CLA+ to assess their performance. And if U.S. News began using that information in its ranking calculations, colleges would be scrambling to figure out how to perform better.

Carl T. Bogus is Distinguished Research Professor of Law at Roger Williams University School of Law in Rhode Island. He is the author of Buckley: William F. Buckley, Jr. and the Rise of American Conservativism and Why Lawsuits are Good For America: Disciplined Democracy, Big Business, and the Common Law.

The Long Plight of the Right on Campus

On both sides of the Atlantic, complaints are frequently raised about the relative absence of intellectual and political diversity in the Academy. The main emphasis of these criticisms is that teachers holding conservative and right-wing views are seriously underrepresented in university departments, particularly in the social sciences and the humanities. Responsibility for the feeble state of political diversity is often attributed to unconscious and sometimes conscious discrimination.

Related: Pollyannas on the Right–Conservatives OK on Campus

Earlier this year, a report by Ben Southwood, published by the Adam Smith Institute titled Lackademia: Why Do Academics Lean Left? argued that teachers with left-wing and liberal attitudes were overrepresented in relation to the views held by the population at large. The report stated that in the UK, while around 50 percent of the public supports parties of the right only 12 percent of academics endorse conservative views. Moreover, Lackademia claimed that it is likely that the overrepresentation of liberal views in universities has grown since the 1960s. It suggests that the proportion of academics who identify as Conservatives may have declined by as much as 25 percent since 1964.

The claim that conservative academics are an embattled minority is even more frequently asserted in the United States. For example, a study published last year ‘Faculty Voter Registration in Economics, History, Journalism, Law, and Psychology’ found that liberal professors outnumbered conservatives by a ratio of 12 to 1. Recently one conservative professor from the University of South Florida wrote that he doubts that he would have been hired ‘if my conservative views were known.’  A recent study of 153 conservative professors indicated that about a third of them adopted the strategy of concealing their political ideals prior to gaining tenure.

Related: Times Says Conservatives Unwelcome in Academia

Some American politicians have taken up this issue and demand that universities adopt a more ideologically diverse hiring policy. Iowa State Senator Mark Chelgren has filed a bill designed to equalize political representation on the faculties of state universities. The Bill aims to introduce a freeze on hiring academics until the number of registered Republicans ‘comes within 10 percent of the number of registered Democrats. It is likely that supporters of the Trump Administration will use this issue in order to change the political culture that prevails on American campuses.

During the past seven decades, concern with the ideological imbalance between left and right on campuses has been a recurrent theme in the conservative critique of higher education in the United States. Throughout the Cold War the domination of higher education by “liberal professors” was a concern that was constantly raised by conservative critics of the Academy.  As two conservative professors, Jon A. Shields and Joshua M. Dunn recently noted the crusade against the allegedly liberal-dominated university was launched in 1951 with the publication of William F. Buckley’s book, God and Man at Yale. Buckley claimed that the university had become a haven for anti-Christian, atheist and liberal professors.

Alarmist accounts of the threat posed by college radicals dominated the headlines in the 1960s and 1970s. In recent times, protests against allowing conservative speakers on campuses – Charles Murray, Condoleezza Rice, Suzanne Venker, John Derbyshire – has re-raised interest in the precarious status of conservatives within academic culture.

On the Defensive

There is little doubt that in many academic disciplines conservatives face difficulty in gaining employment. The leftist historian Robin Marie has criticized liberal academics who refuse to acknowledge that they have a double standard towards the practice of academic freedom. Drawing attention to the double standard that prevails in higher education regarding the employment of conservative academics – a double standard which she approves- Marie wrote;

“Academic institutions, moreover, are spaces that are morally policed – it is not a coincidence, nor due solely to the weak evidential basis of their positions, that only a minority of professors in the liberal arts are conservative. Declining to hire someone, publish their paper, or chat them up at a conference are exercises in exclusion and shame which those in academia, nearly as much as any other community, participate in.”

Marie’s allusion to the practice of marginalizing conservative academics in the social sciences and the arts serves her purpose of reinforcing her claim that academic freedom is a liberal shibboleth. Most of her colleagues would be reluctant to go on record and acknowledge their anti-conservative bias.

However, it would be wrong to attribute the marginal position of conservative academics in the humanities and social sciences simply to self-conscious acts of discrimination. Since the end of the Second World War, conservative ideas have become marginalized within the key cultural and intellectual institutions of western society. In a frequently cited statement, the American literary critic Lionel Trilling declared in his 1949 Preface to his collection of essays that right-wing ideas no longer possessed cultural significance:

“In the United States at this time liberalism is not only the dominant but even the sole intellectual tradition. For it is the plain fact that nowadays there are no conservative or reactionary ideas in general circulation. This does not mean, of course, that there is no impulse to conservatism or to reaction. Such impulses are certainly very strong, perhaps even stronger than most of us know. But the conservative impulse and the reactionary impulse do not, with some isolated and some ecclesiastical exceptions, express themselves in ideas but only in action or in irritable mental gestures which seek to resemble ideas.”

Though Trilling’s boast about the dominant status of liberalism contained an element of exaggeration there is little doubt it corresponded to developments in the 1940s.

It was the experience of the inter-war years and of Second World War that served to discredit the influence of right-wing and conservative intellectual tradition in Western Culture.  The 1930s depression, followed by the rise of fascism significantly diminished the appeal of right-wing ideas. It also solidified the association of intellectuals with left-wing philosophies. From this point onward, conservative thought became increasingly marginalized within the humanities and the social sciences. Which is why today it is difficult to recollect that until the second half of the last century right-wing thinkers constituted a significant section of the western intelligentsia.

Its Cold War rhetoric aside, McCarthyism can be interpreted as a belated attempt to discredit the moral authority of the liberal intellectual by equating its nonconformist ethos with disloyalty. However, despite the significant political influence enjoyed by McCarthy within American society, he could not defeat the liberal political culture that prevailed in higher education.

In her essay on ‘The New Class’(1979), the Conservative thinker Jeanne Kirkpatrick observed that the inability of McCarthy to make serious headway against liberal intellectuals meant that this group was able to strengthen its authority over cultural life in America. Kirkpatrick concluded that McCarthy’s demise and the growing authority of his intellectual critics was a “precondition of the rise of the counterculture in the 1960s.” Since the 1960s conservatives within the Academy have been more or less constantly on the defensive. One often unremarked symptom of this trend has been the growing trend towards the pathologization of the conservative mind.

The Presumption of Intellectual Inferiority

The marginalization of the conservative academic has been paralleled by the pathologization of the conservative mindset. Claims that conservatives are intellectually inferior to their opponents originated in the 19th century when the British Tories were frequently derided as the “stupid party.” Arguments about the supposed intellectual inferiority of conservatives claimed that those who remained wedded to outdated traditions lacked imagination and an openness to new experience. Since the defense of the status-quo did not require mental agility or flexibility, it was suggested that conservatives were likely to be left behind in the intellectual stakes. Only those who were prepared to criticise and question the existing state of society could be expected to develop a capacity for abstract and sophisticated thought.

From the 1940s onwards the insult of being labeled as stupid was often justified on intellectual and scientific grounds. Intelligence became a cultural weapon used to invalidate the moral status of conservative minded people. Inevitably this was a weapon that was most effectively used by those claiming the status of an intellectual. As Mark Proudman stated:

“The imputation of intelligence and of its associated characteristics of enlightenment, broad-mindedness, knowledge and sophistication to some ideologies and not to others is itself, therefore, a powerful tool of ideological advocacy.”

Ridicule as Moral Superiority

Making fun of the “outdated” views of conservative people and exposing their traditional ways to ridicule was one way of assuming the status of moral superiority. In this way, those with a monopoly over the possession of intellectual capital can present themselves as possessors of moral authority.

Often assertions about the intellectual inferiority of conservatives ran in parallel with claims about their psychological deficits. In the 1950s, Theodor Adorno’s classic Authoritarian Personality served to validate the dogma that the internalization of prejudice and the disposition for intolerance is a psychological issue. From this point onwards the conservative mind was increasing portrayed as authoritarian, inflexible, prejudiced and disposed towards simplistic solutions to the problems facing society.

Usually, the weaponization of intelligence to discredit groups of people tends to be challenged by the academic community. For example, Charles Murray’s, The Bell Curve: Intelligence and Class Structure in American Life(1994) has provoked outrage on campuses. Riots broke out at Middlebury College earlier this year, leading to the cancellation of a speech by Murray. But though Murray has been criticised for linking people’s IQ to their predicament, such concerns are rarely raised when conservatives are the target of the weaponization of intelligence.

The representation of conservatives as less intelligent than their left-wing foes is frequently communicated by ‘research’ on the so-called conservative syndrome. The hypothesis of this syndrome is that conservatism and low cognitive ability are directly correlated. Such claims are frequently promoted by studies such as “Bright Minds and Dark Attitudes–Lower Cognitive Ability Predicts Greater Prejudice Through Right-Wing Ideology and Low Intergroup Contact.” The authors of the study claim that low intelligence in childhood serves as a marker for racism in adulthood. Moreover, poor abstract-reasoning skills are closely correlated with anti-gay prejudice. From studies such as this, it is tempting to draw the conclusion that simple children with low cognitive abilities grow up to be prejudiced conservatives.

The pathologization of the conservative mind inevitably influences attitudes and practices in universities. This sensibility not only calls into question the ideas that conservatives uphold but their moral and intellectual status. Instead of offering an intellectual critique of conservative ideology it simply devalues the integrity and intellectual capacity of the person holding such views. Consequently, many conservative academics experience the critique of their views as not part of an intellectual exchange of views but as a mean-spirited insult.

Not surprisingly many conservatives have become defensive when confronted with the put-downs of their intellectual superiors. In many societies – particularly the United States – some have become wary of intellectuals and hostile to the ethos of university life. Anti-intellectual prejudice often constitutes a defensive reaction to the pathologization of conservatism. In the United States, the unrestrained anti-intellectual culture of sections of the right, which sometimes appears as the affirmation of ignorance serves to reinforce the smug prejudice of their opponents.

There is little doubt that some of the complaints made by conservative academics about the unwillingness of sections of the academic community to tolerate their views are not without foundation. However, it is important to note that many would-be conservative intellectuals were accomplices in the marginalization of their views on campuses. Certainly from the 1960s onwards they did little to stand their ground in the social sciences and the humanities. Many of them opted to join conservative thinks tanks and became critics of the Ivory Tower from the outside. There is also something opportunistic about the way in some conservatives have embraced the status of being victims of the campus culture wars. Shield and Dunn get the balance right when they write

“As two conservative professors, we agree that right-wing faculty members and ideas are not always treated fairly on college campuses. But we also know that right-wing hand-wringing about higher education is overblown.”

They point out that after interviewing 153 “conservative professors in the social sciences and humanities, we believe that conservatives survive and even thrive in one of America’s most progressive professions.”

Of course, conservative academics should not have to adopt a survival strategy any more than left-wing ones. The maintenance of intellectual diversity is one that all sides of the academic community have in interest in upholding. Openness to a diversity of views and genuine academic freedom is the foundation of a liberal academy. As Steven Holmes observed in his important study, The Anatomy of Antiliberalism, “Public disagreement is a creative force may have been the most novel and radical principle of liberal politics.”

Chart: Courtesy of Heterodox Academy. 

The Article that Made 16,000 Ideologues Go Wild

Portland State University scholar Bruce Gilley drew a lot of attention with his August 29 article on Minding the Campus, “Why I’m leaving the Political Science Association.” A week or so later, he provoked an even greater controversy by telling readers of the Third World Quarterly what they don’t want to hear.

The Case for Colonialism” was by ordinary academic standards a straightforward opinion essay: well-reasoned, well-informed, and cognizant of conflicting views. It had passed peer review and the judgment of the journal’s editor.  A contemporary scholar arguing the case in favor of a positive judgment of the history of Western colonialism, however, was clearly venturing into territory that carried the risk of adverse reaction among his peers.  It wasn’t long before that reaction arrived.

Bruce Gilley happens to be the head of the National Association of Scholars’ Oregon affiliate. I know him through that connection and have seen him take strong stands in defense of academic and intellectual freedom on several previous occasions.

The Onslaught

Professor Gilley’s cordiality, however, proved of little avail in the weeks that followed the publication of “The Case for Colonialism.”  Both the article and the author came under ferocious attack. Soon the journal that published the article also came under attack.  Opponents:

  • Demanded that the journal retract the article.
  • Insisted Bruce Gilley apologize for writing it.
  • Circulated a petition, drafted by Jenny Heijun Wills (associate professor of English and Director of the Critical Race Network, University of Winnipeg) and signed by 6,884 others, which begins, “We insist that you, Third World Quarterly, retract and apologize for the publication of Professor Bruce Gilley’s appalling article…”
  • Circulated another petition, drafted by Maxine Horne (a dancer who has a master’s degree in project management from the University of Salford in the U.K.) which garnered 10,693 signatures.
  • Attacked Gilley ad hominem, in the words of Farhana Sultana (associate professor of Geography & Research Director for Environmental Conflicts and Collaborations, Program for the Advancement of Research on Conflict and Collaboration at the Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs, Syracuse University) claiming the article promotes “white supremacy,” purveys “shoddy scholarship,” is based on “racist or violent ideologies,” and caricaturing Gilley for publishing “drivel.” Sultana also co-signed Horne’s petition.
  • Wished for Princeton University to revoke Gilley’s Ph.D.

Fifteen members of the 34-member editorial board of Third World Quarterly resigned in protest of its publication of Gilley’s article.

A Limp Reaction from Academia

The publisher Taylor and Francis responded to the furor by issuing a document where it recounted step by step the review of Gilley’s article before it was accepted for publication.  The accusation that the article was not peer-reviewed or properly vetted by qualified scholars proved to be without foundation.

The Interim Provost and Vice President for Academic Affairs at Portland State University, Margaret Everett, responding to calls from recent graduates that Gilley be fired, issued a bland statement declaring, “Academic freedom is critical to the open debate and free exchange of knowledge and argument. Because of Portland State University’s commitment to academic freedom, we acknowledge the right of all our faculty to explore scholarship and to speak, write and publish a variety of viewpoints and conclusions. The university also respects the rights of others to express counterviews and to engage in vigorous and constructive debate about the faculty’s work.” The retiring president of the university, Wim Wiewel, likewise declared that “The bedrock principles embedded in our educational mission as a public university are to value robust debate of ideas and to protect academic freedom,” but took no action to defend Gilley from the personal and professional attacks. Those attacks included death threats.

The temporizing defense of Professor Gilley as the rhetoric and threats escalated, apparently left Professor Gilley to decide that the better part of valor was to withdraw the article and mouth the apology that his critics demanded.  He did so under what he calls the “onslaught,” but now regrets it. He is back in the fight.

The Cork

I’m not eager to turn dissenting professors into martyrs. I understand the considerable pressures that can be brought to bear on nonconformists in academe, including those like Professor Gilley who have tenure.  But there is nothing in the article either in its substance or its tone that warranted its withdrawal. Professor Gilley retracted it in the hope of quieting a destructive tempest.  It didn’t.

It wasn’t enough for the “critics”—though calling them critics is to cheapen the term. What has emerged is a clique of radicals who are ready to resort to violence to silence views they don’t like.  The editor of Third World Quarterly, Shahid Qadir, who stood by his judgment of the value of Gilley’s article, has been met with death threats from Indian nationalists.  After Gilley “withdrew” it, the publisher left it available in electronic form. That infuriates those who would like the article to disappear entirely.

Because of the controversy, “The Case for Colonialism” has surely garnered far more readers than anything else that Third World Quarterly has ever published, and far more readers than it would have absent the controversy.  We need not lament that Professor Gilley’s views on the merits of colonialism will be buried in obscurity.  The problem lies elsewhere.

It lies in the successful deployment of professional opprobrium and actual threats of murder to kill the article. That success was ultimately aimed at ensuring that other scholars who dissent from the contemporary orthodoxy of anti-colonialism will keep their mouths shut. It is further aimed at ensuring that generations of students will see no whisper of dissent from this orthodoxy in the published literature, and hear no hint of it from their instructors.

The desire of the anti-colonialist faction to reach beyond Gilley to intimidate other scholars who might pick up his thread is a backhanded acknowledgment of Gilley’s credibility and the force of his argument.  Numerous scholars in the field are saying things to the effect that recognition of the positive effects of colonialism is long overdue. Such accolades are circulating widely but not—or not yet—openly.  The anti-colonialist faction knows this and is desperate to keep the cork in the bottle.

Feckless College Presidents

One way the cork is kept in place is by intimidating college and university authorities. If the dean, provost, and presidents were living up to their responsibilities, they would be opening misconduct investigations in instances where faculty members have sought to intimidate, threaten, or censor views they disagree with.  If academic freedom is to mean anything at all, it has to be enforced. We are in a period where college authorities frequently do nothing in the face of shout-downs of invited speakers and actual campus riots.  Mizzou, Yale, Middlebury, Claremont McKenna, and Evergreen stand out in the public eye as the exemplars of such nonfeasance on the part of college presidents.

The whip of public scorn was enough to convince the presidents of Middlebury, Claremont McKenna, and Evergreen to take token actions against a handful of the student rioters—and no action at all against the faculty members who instigated them. But the general picture remains that college authorities do as little as they possibly can to maintain public order on campus when that order is threatened or violated by progressive activists.

And they do even less when it comes to faculty activists who engage in behavior wholly at odds with academic freedom. More often than not, college presidents offer a false equivalence between the right of a faculty member to say something “controversial” and the spurious “right” of other faculty members to threaten and intimidate that person.  There is no such right.  In the context of higher education, disagreement must be grounded in arguments and evidence, not in menace.

The framing of these issues as matters of “controversy” is itself misleading.  Academic freedom exists to give knowledgeable individuals scope to pursue the truth. It is not a license to pursue controversy for its own sake. Professor Gilley’s arguments about colonialism are presented entirely in the framework of promoting “human flourishing” and respecting “the consent of the colonized.”  His essay says something unexpected—that, in some circumstances, Western colonialism was good and might still be considered a viable choice—but Gilley’s aim is morally serious and ought not to be trivialized as merely seeking after controversy.

Thus the Gilley affair is yet another reminder of the hollowness of the university’s leaders. Confronted with a straightforward example of academic thuggery, they stand perplexed, unwilling to draw a meaningful line anywhere between legitimate expression of ideas and mob rule.


Will the publisher Taylor and Francis give in to the threat that the editor of Third World Quarterly will be murdered if Gilley’s article is not made to disappear?  At this writing, we don’t know.  I’ll assume that the publisher will summon the courage to stand its ground.

But the academics who made such a threat deserve our outrage, and so too the numerous academics who did not themselves make the threat but who escalated the rhetoric and the abuse to the point where the threat was but a small step further in the direction of academic thuggery.

But outrage at the follies in higher education is a devalued currency these days.  Professor Gilley, in fact, has found many who support his right to publish his views, regardless of whether they agree with his points.  Notably, Noam Chomsky has come to his defense.  Many others see the sense of Gilley’s main arguments:  that Western colonialism eventuated in better conditions in many parts of the world and that anti-colonial ideology in many cases ruined newly independent nations.  The record of health, education, and welfare in the Third World testifies to these theses to anyone who is not constrained by radical anti-Western beliefs to ignore the facts.

No one denies that colonialism sometimes had dire costs, including the sense of humiliation that often was inflicted on the colonized.  The colonizers themselves paid a stiff price as well, not least in their unearned sense of superiority.  Yet there is plainly a strong argument to be made that, on balance, the legacy of colonialism has been positive.  Agree or disagree with that view; it ought to be well within the compass of ideas that can be debated in academic journals and on campus.

What then ought to be the path forward for those who truly support academic and intellectual freedom—and who want to do more than mouth the piety that these are “critical” to the university?

The answer isn’t a single action but a single determination.  The Gilley affair is, of course, only one of many instances in the last few years in which the progressive left has shown its willingness to bully, to censor, and sometimes physically attack those it designates as its enemies. College presidents and trustees must cease to pretend that this is a matter of competing forms of free speech.  The freedom of one side to be vilified and the freedom of the other side to launch outrageous personal attacks are not moral equivalents.  No university can long survive this kind of intellectual dissipation, no matter how eagerly it masks itself as protection of the weak and marginal.  It has become its own form of tyranny, and the public will not long stand for it.

Public universities such as Portland State have vulnerabilities in the form of state and federal funding as well as enrollment. In time, politicians and the public will act in default of campus authorities who do not act. And perhaps we should not forget the names of those thousands who signed the petitions.  It might be a good exercise for deans and provosts who have received from academic search committee recommendations to appoint candidates for academic positions to match those names against the list of signatories. Signing such petitions, after all, is a public declaration of hostility to the very principles that the university say are “bedrock.” A candidate’s name on such a petition at least raises a question of whether such a person is to be relied on to uphold the standards of a free intellectual community.

What can be done?  At the minimum, Portland State University should call on Taylor and Francis to keep the article and defend the editor, Shahid Qadir.

Same Old College Rankings—What Did You Expect?

Shocking news: the new Wall Street Journal/Times Higher Education college rankings say that Harvard is the best school in the United States. So does Forbes in its rankings, while US News ranks it second. Some eight schools (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, MIT, Stanford, Penn, Duke and Cal Tech) are in the top 10 in all three rankings. The top schools are like 17th century English landed aristocracy: all are old (the newest, Cal Tech, was founded over 120 years ago), with half of the top 10 in the WSJ listing beginning even before the nation in which they reside.  Indeed, none of the top 50 WSJ colleges was founded after 1950. All the top 10 are rich, with multi-billion investments –some, like Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, have about two million dollars of endowment for every student.

Related: What I’d Add to College Rankings

There is a monotonous stability to the rankings –some embryonic assessments in the first half of the last century all placed Harvard, Yale, and Princeton at or near the top. Indeed, college rankings dramatically demonstrate how rarely healthy and innovative Schumpeterian “creative destruction” comes to higher education. I located a 1994 Fortune Magazine with its list of 500 leading American corporations. Of the top 10 1994 companies, six have changed dramatically, now have different names, and a seventh (General Motors) has gone through bankruptcy. Only three of the top 10 in 1994 (GE, IBM and Ford) are the same companies they were in 1994. At least one of them, Ford, was on life support once in the intervening 23 years. The new corporate leaders as measured by stock valuation, Apple and Google, did not even exist a half-century ago. The top American universities resemble far more the old British aristocracy than the business institutions that ultimately provide them with most of their wealth and resources.

According to the WSJ rankings, state universities are the junior varsity of higher education —not one of them makes the top 20 (that is true for most other widely used rankings). There are only eight state schools in the top fifty (for some reason, the military academies seem to be totally excluded). I would also note that the oldest and still probably the most popular rankings, those of US News, show a considerable decline in the number of state schools at the top over time.

Related: The Problem with College Rankings

How did the Wall Street Journal and the British-based Times Higher Education do their rankings? They used 15 factors, heavily emphasizing outcomes (40 percent), and resources (30 percent). Another 20 percent reflects student “engagement, ” and 10 percent is a diversity component.

Let’s analyze “resources” more closely. A school that spends more on instruction per student gets higher rankings or has a higher faculty-student ratio. It does better if the faculty publishes a lot of papers in top-flight academic journals. In other words, if a school is wealthy, it is better, since rich or high tuition schools can buy faculty and even research. Quality is measured here by inputs, not outputs. If a school gives its faculty all 10 percent raises, rankings go up —but does institutional effectiveness rise?

That problem, though, is minor compared with the diversity component, rhetorically disguised as an “environmental” factor. The University of Michigan could improve its already respectable 27th placement by replacing students from Michigan by those from Iran and by replacing white students with those from presumptively better races. While I believe having students of diverse backgrounds is useful in promoting a full learning experience, there are few American schools that do not largely achieve that already (although the number of poor students at top schools is typically relatively small).  The WSJ diversity component to me is not measuring quality but rather is catering to political correct racist instincts (and I bet a majority of the WSJ’s editorial board, not involved in this undertaking, would agree).  Campus tolerance and support for a diversity of ideas, of course, is what is really important, and it is not considered in the rankings (although it would be difficult although not impossible to do so).

Preventing the Public From Knowing

Stealing (as many do) from Winston Churchill, college rankings are the worst way to evaluate colleges —except all others. I know, because I began and directed those of Forbes for nine years. There are two huge problems: information and varying human preferences. Universities are supposedly in the business of creating and distributing information and knowledge, but when it comes to themselves, they do everything possible to prevent the public from knowing much. Some of them fought the Department of Education from creating the College Scorecard, providing some of the data used in the WSJ rankings (and which was just updated and expanded to make it more useful). College lobbyists have successfully kept us from knowing things like how much did students learn while at school? Or, what are post-graduate earnings of all graduates (not just those taking federal student aid) by university and major field of study? The college lobby in 2008 successfully outlawed efforts to get a better student outcomes database. Politicians as diverse politically as Elizabeth Warren and Orrin Hatch have proposed a College Transparency Act to lift restrictions allowing for better consumer information.

“Variety’s the very spice of life” William Cowper opined in 1785, so the best college or university for an individual varies with personal interests, academic performance, geography, income, sometimes race or religion, accessibility to friends or relatives, etc.  Published college rankings reflect some generic set of values that need to be modified to fit individual circumstances. Still, given the difficulty in getting really good objective information about colleges cheaply and quickly, published rankings serve a good purpose. Even though the criteria vary a fair amount amongst the top rankings, usually the schools considered the best are pretty similar. When I did the Forbes rankings, I would experiment with a variety of different weights on a large number of factors, but almost never could get Princeton out of the top ten. The nation could use a website with data about 10 or 15 important factors (graduation rates, earnings immediately after graduation, earnings 10 years after graduation, costs before financial aid, probability of getting financial aid, student attitudes towards instructors, etc.) that would allow people to concoct their own “do it yourself” rankings using personalized weights on the various measured factors.

Just Another Good or Service

For some reason, the WSJ rankings rekindled in my mind a recurring thought for almost six decades: why do we treat colleges different than any other good or service? Why do we subsidize them rather than taxing them? The reality, of course, is the so-called “private schools” dominating the rankings are very highly publicly indirectly subsidized by the federal government through its financial assistance programs, and the modest but real retreat by state governments from funding “state” universities has been offset by enhanced federal funding, having the unintended consequence of helping so-called private schools that are traditionally heavily tuition financed relative to state schools that traditionally depended very heavily on state subsidies. With very small exceptions (e.g., Hillsdale College) all higher education is government supported. Considering campus spending excesses, mediocre learning outcomes, and assaults on free expression, I am increasingly asking myself: why?

The Roots of Our New Civil War: Tocqueville vs. Gramsci

As intellectual historians have often had occasion to observe, there are times in a nation’s history when certain ideas are just “in the air.” Admittedly, this point seems to fizzle when applied to our particular historical moment. On the surface of American politics, as many have had cause to mention, it appears that the main trends predicted over a decade ago in Francis Fukuyama’s “The End of History?” have come to pass — that ideological (if not partisan) strife has been muted; that there is a general consensus about the most important questions of the day (capitalism, not socialism; democracy, not authoritarianism); and that the contemporary controversies that do exist, while occasionally momentous, are essentially mundane, concerned with practical problem-solving (whether it is better to count ballots by hand or by machine) rather than with great principles.

What Will America Be?

And yet, I would argue, all that is true only on the surface. For simultaneously in the United States of the past few decades, recurring philosophical concepts have not only remained “in the air,” but have proved influential, at times decisive, in cultural and legal and moral arguments about the most important questions facing the nation. Indeed: Prosaic appearances to the contrary, beneath the surface of American politics an intense ideological struggle is being waged between two competing worldviews. I will call these “Gramscian” and “Tocquevillian” after the intellectuals who authored the warring ideas — the twentieth-century Italian thinker Antonio Gramsci, and, of course, the nineteenth-century French intellectual Alexis de Tocqueville. The stakes in the battle between the intellectual heirs of these two men are no less than what kind of country the United States will be in decades to come.

Refining Class Warfare

We’ll begin with an overview of the thought of Antonio Gramsci (1891-1937), a Marxist intellectual and politician. Despite his enormous influence on today’s politics, he remains far less well-known to most Americans than does Tocqueville.

Gramsci’s main legacy arises through his departures from orthodox Marxism. Like Marx, he argued that all societies in human history have been divided into two basic groups: the privileged and the marginalized, the oppressor and the oppressed, the dominant and the subordinate. Gramsci expanded Marx’s ranks of the “oppressed” into categories that still endure. As he wrote in his famous Prison Notebooks, “The marginalized groups of history include not only the economically oppressed but also women, racial minorities and many ‘criminals.'” What Marx and his orthodox followers described as “the people,” Gramsci describes as an “ensemble” of subordinate groups and classes in every society that has ever existed until now. This collection of oppressed and marginalized groups — “the people” — lack unity and, often, even consciousness of their own oppression. To reverse the correlation of power from the privileged to the “marginalized,” then, was Gramsci’s declared goal.

Power, in Gramsci’s observation, is exercised by privileged groups or classes in two ways: through domination, force, or coercion; and through something called “hegemony,” which means the ideological supremacy of a system of values that supports the class or group interests of the predominant classes or groups. Subordinate groups, he argued, are influenced to internalize the value systems and world views of the privileged groups and, thus, to consent to their own marginalization.

Delegitimate Belief Systems

Far from being content with a mere uprising, therefore, Gramsci believed that it was necessary first to delegitimize the dominant belief systems of the predominant groups and to create a “counter-hegemony” (i.e., a new system of values for the subordinate groups) before the marginalized could be empowered. Moreover, because hegemonic values permeate all spheres of civil society — schools, churches, the media, voluntary associations — civil society itself, he argued, is the great battleground in the struggle for hegemony, the “war of position.” From this point, too, followed a corollary for which Gramsci should be known (and which is echoed in the feminist slogan) — that all life is “political.” Thus, private life, the workplace, religion, philosophy, art, and literature, and civil society, in general, are contested battlegrounds in the struggle to achieve societal transformation.

It is perhaps here that one sees Gramsci’s most important reexamination of Marx’s thought. Classical Marxists implied that a revolutionary consciousness would simply develop from the objective (and oppressive) material conditions of working-class life. Gramsci disagreed, noting that “there have always been exploiters and exploited” — but very few revolutions per se. In his analysis, this was because subordinate groups usually lack the “clear theoretical consciousness” necessary to convert the “structure of repression into one of rebellion and social reconstruction.” Revolutionary “consciousness” is crucial. Unfortunately, the subordinate groups possess “false consciousness,” that is to say, they accept the conventional assumptions and values of the dominant groups, as “legitimate.” But real change, he continued to believe, can only come about through the transformation of consciousness.

Use the Intellectuals

Just as Gramsci’s analysis of consciousness is more nuanced than Marx’s, so too is his understanding of the role of intellectuals in that process. Marx had argued that for revolutionary social transformation to be successful, the world views of the predominant groups must first be unmasked as instruments of domination. In classical Marxism, this crucial task of demystifying and delegitimizing the ideological hegemony of the dominant groups is performed by intellectuals. Gramsci, more subtly, distinguishes between two types of intellectuals: “traditional” and “organic.” What subordinate groups need, Gramsci maintains, are their own “organic intellectuals.” However, the defection of “traditional” intellectuals from the dominant groups to the subordinate groups, he held, is also important, because traditional intellectuals who have “changed sides” are well positioned within established institutions.

The metaphysics, or lack thereof, behind this Gramscian worldview are familiar enough. Gramsci describes his position as “absolute historicism,” meaning that morals, values, truths, standards and human nature itself are products of different historical epochs. There are no absolute moral standards that are universally true for all human beings outside of a particular historical context; rather, morality is “socially constructed.”

Historically, Antonio Gramsci’s thought shares features with other writers who are classified as “Hegelian Marxists” — the Hungarian Marxist Georg Lukacs, the German thinker Karl Korsch, and members of the “Frankfurt School” (e.g., Theodor Adorno and Herbert Marcuse), a group of theorists associated with the Institute for Social Research founded in Frankfurt, Germany in the 1920s, some of whom attempted to synthesize the thinking of Marx and Freud. All emphasized that the decisive struggle to overthrow the bourgeois regime (that is, middle-class liberal democracy) would be fought out at the level of consciousness. That is, the old order had to be rejected by its citizens intellectually and morally before any real transfer of power to the subordinate groups could be achieved.

Gramsci’s long reach

The relation of all these abstractions to the nuts and bolts of American politics is, as the record shows, surprisingly direct. All of Gramsci’s most innovative ideas — for example, that dominant and subordinate groups based on race, ethnicity, and gender are engaged in struggles over power; that the “personal is political”; and that all knowledge and morality are social constructions — are assumptions and presuppositions at the very center of today’s politics. So too is the very core of the Gramscian-Hegelian worldview — group-based morality, or the idea that what is moral is what serves the interests of “oppressed” or “marginalized” ethnic, racial, and gender groups.

What, for example, lies behind the concept of “jury nullification,” a notion which now enjoys the support of law professors at leading universities? Building on the Hegelian-Marxist concepts of group power and group-based morality, jury nullification advocates argue that minorities serving on juries should use their “power” as jurors to refuse to convict minority defendants regardless of the evidence presented in court, because the minority defendants have been “powerless,” lifelong victims of an oppressive system that is skewed in favor of dominant groups, such as white males.

Indeed, what is called “critical theory” — a direct descendant of Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist thinking — is widely influential in both law and education. Critical legal studies posit that the law grows out of unequal relations of power and therefore serves the interests of and legitimizes the rule of dominant groups. Its subcategories include critical race theory and feminist legal theory. The critical legal studies movement could hardly be more Gramscian; it seeks to “deconstruct” bourgeois legal ideas that serve as instruments of power for the dominant groups and “reconstruct” them to serve the interests of the subordinate groups.

Or consider the echoes of Gramsci in the works of yet another law professor, Michigan’s Catharine MacKinnon. She writes in Toward a Feminist Theory of the State (1989), “The rule of law and the rule of men are one thing, indivisible,” because “State power, embodied in law, exists throughout society as male power.” Furthermore, “Male power is systemic. Coercive, legitimated, and epistemic, it is the regime.” Therefore, MacKinnon notes, “a rape is not an isolated event or moral transgression or individual interchange gone wrong but an act of terrorism and torture within a systemic context of group subjection, like lynching.” Similarly, MacKinnon has argued that sexual harassment is essentially an issue of power exercised by the dominant over the subordinate group.

Such thinking may begin in ivory towers, but it does not end there. The United States Supreme Court adopted MacKinnon’s theories as the basis for its interpretation of sexual harassment law in the landmark Meritor Savings Bank v. Vinson (1986). This is only one example of how major American social policy has come to be based not on Judeo-Christian precepts nor on Kantian-Enlightenment ethics, but on Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist concepts of group power.

Hegel among the CEOs  

Quite apart from their popularity among academics and in certain realms of politics, Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist ideas are also prominent in three other major sectors of American civil society: foundations, universities, and corporations.

As laymen and analysts alike have observed over the years, the major foundations — particularly Ford, Rockefeller, Carnegie, and MacArthur — have for decades spent millions of dollars promoting “cutting edge” projects on racial, ethnic, and gender issues. According to author and foundation expert Heather Mac Donald, for example, feminist projects received $36 million from Ford, Rockefeller, Mellon, and other large foundations between 1972 and 1992. Similarly, according to a Capital Research Center report by Peter Warren, a policy analyst at the National Association of Scholars, foundations have crowned diversity the “king” of American campuses. For example, the Ford Foundation launched a Campus Diversity Initiative in 1990 that funded programs in about 250 colleges and universities at the cost of approximately $15 million. The Ford initiative promotes what sounds like a Gramscian’s group-rights dream: as Peter Warren puts it, “the establishment of racial, ethnic, and sex-specific programs and academic departments, group preferences in student admissions, group preferences in staff and faculty hiring, sensitivity training for students and staff, and campus-wide convocations to raise consciousness about the need for such programs.”

Alan Kors, a history professor at the University of Pennsylvania, has described in detail how Ford and other foundation “diversity” grants are put to use. As he noted in “Thought Reform 101” in the March 2000 issue of Reason, “at almost all our campuses, some form of moral and political re-education has been built into freshmen orientation.” A “central goal of these programs,” Kors states, “is to uproot ‘internalized oppression,’ a crucial concept in the diversity education planning documents of most universities.” The concept of “internalized oppression” is the same as the Hegelian-Marxist notion of “false consciousness,” in which people in the subordinate groups “internalize” (and thus accept) the values and ways of thinking of their oppressors in the dominant groups.

Training the Freshmen 

At Columbia University, for instance, new students are encouraged to get rid of “their own social and personal beliefs that foster inequality.” To accomplish this, the assistant dean for freshmen, Katherine Balmer, insists that “training” is needed. At the end of freshman orientation at Bryn Mawr in the early 1990s, according to the school program, students were “breaking free” of “the cycle of oppression” and becoming “change agents.” Syracuse University’s multicultural program is designed to teach students that they live “in a world impacted by various oppression issues, including racism.”

Kors states that at an academic conference sponsored by the University of Nebraska, the attendees articulated the view that “White students desperately need formal ‘training’ in racial and cultural awareness. The moral goal of such training should override white notions of privacy and individualism.” One of the leading “diversity experts” providing scores of “training programs” in universities, corporations, and government bureaucracies is Hugh Vasquez of the Todos Institute of Oakland, California. Vasquez’s study guide for a Ford Foundation-funded diversity film, Skin Deep, explains the meaning of “white privilege” and “internalized oppression” for the trainees. It also explains the concept of an “ally,” as an individual from the “dominant group” who rejects his “unmerited privilege” and becomes an advocate for the position of the subordinate groups. This concept of the “ally,” of course, is Gramscian to the core; it is exactly representative of the notion that subordinate groups struggling for power must try to “conquer ideologically” the traditional intellectuals or activist cadres normally associated with the dominant group.

The employees of America’s major corporations take many of the same sensitivity training programs as America’s college students, often from the same “diversity facilitators.” Frederick Lynch, the author of the Diversity Machine, reported “diversity training” is rampant among the Fortune 500. Even more significantly, on issues of group preferences vs. individual opportunity, major corporate leaders tend to put their money and influence behind group rights instead of individual rights.

After California voters passed Proposition 209, for example — a referendum outlawing racial and gender preferences in employment — Ward Connerly, the African-American businessman who led the effort, launched a similar anti-preferences initiative in the state of Washington. The Washington initiative I-200 read as follows: “The State shall not discriminate against or grant preferential treatment to, any individual or group on the basis of race, sex, color, ethnicity, or national origin in the operation of public employment, or public contracting.” This language was almost identical to California’s Proposition 209. Atlantic Monthly editor Michael Kelly reported in the Washington Post on August 23 that when asked his opinion on Proposition 209 during the referendum debate, Sen. Joseph Lieberman replied, “I can’t see how I could be opposed to it. . . . It is basically a statement of American values . . . and says we shouldn’t discriminate in favor of somebody based on the group they represent.”

However, Washington’s business leaders disagreed. In his autobiography Creating Equal, Ward Connerly wrote that the “most important significant obstacle we faced in Washington was not the media or even political personalities, but the corporate world. . . . Boeing, Weyerhauser, Starbucks, Costco, and Eddie Bauer all made huge donations to the No on I-200 campaign. . . . The fundraising was spearheaded by Bill Gates, Sr., a regent of the University of Washington, whose famous name seemed to suggest that the whole of the high-tech world was solemnly shaking its head at us.”

Interestingly, private corporations are also more supportive of another form of group rights — gay rights — than are government agencies at any level. As of June 2000, for example, approximately 100 Fortune 500 companies had adopted health benefits for same-sex partners. According to the gay rights organization, Human Rights Campaign, the companies offering same-sex benefits include the leading corporations in the Fortune 500 ranking: among the top 10, General Motors (ranked first), Ford (fourth), IBM (sixth), AT&T (eighth), and Boeing (tenth), as well as Hewlett-Packard, Merrill Lynch, Chase Manhattan Bank, Bell Atlantic, Chevron, Motorola, Prudential, Walt Disney, Microsoft, Xerox, and United Airlines. Corporate reaction to gay activist attacks on Dr. Laura Schlessinger is another indication of how Hegelian-Gramscian the country’s business leaders have become. Sears and EchoStar have lately joined a long list of advertisers — Procter and Gamble, Xerox, AT&T, Toys R Us, Kraft, General Foods, and Geico — in pulling their advertising from the popular talk show host. Whether these decisions favoring gay (read: group) rights were motivated by ideology, economic calculation, or an opportunistic attempt to appear “progressive,” they typify American businesses’ response to the culture war.

The Tocquevillian counterattack

The primary resistance to the advance of Gramscian ideas comes from an opposing quarter that I will call contemporary Tocquevillianism. Its representatives take Alexis de Tocqueville’s essentially empirical description of American exceptionalism and celebrate the traits of this exceptionalism as normative values to be embraced. As Tocqueville noted in the 1830s (and as the World Values Survey, a scholarly comparative assessment, reaffirmed in the 1990s), Americans are different from Europeans in several crucial respects. Two recent books — Seymour Martin Lipset’s American Exceptionalism (1997) and Michael Ledeen’s Tocqueville on American Character (2000) — have made much the same point: that Americans today, just as in Tocqueville’s time, are much more individualistic, religious, and patriotic than the people of any other comparably advanced nation.

What was particularly exceptional for Tocqueville (and contemporary Tocquevillians) is the singular American path to modernity. Unlike other modernists, Americans combined strong religious and patriotic beliefs with dynamic, restless entrepreneurial energy that emphasized the equality of individual opportunity and eschewed hierarchical and ascriptive group affiliations. The trinity of American exceptionalism could be described as (1) dynamism (support for equality of individual opportunity, entrepreneurship, and economic progress); (2) religiosity (emphasis on character development, mores, and voluntary cultural associations) that works to contain the excessive individual egoism that dynamism sometimes fosters; and (3) patriotism (love of country, self-government, and support for constitutional limits).

Among today’s Tocquevillians we could include public intellectuals William Bennett, Michael Novak, Gertrude Himmelfarb, Marvin Olasky, Norman Podhoretz, and former Clinton White House advisor and political philosopher William Galston, and scholars Wilfred McClay, Harvey Mansfield, and Walter MacDougall. Neoconservatives, traditional conservatives of the National Review-Heritage Foundation stripe, some students of political philosopher Leo Strauss, and some centrist Democrats are Tocquevillian in their emphasis on America’s special path to modernity that combines aspects of the pre-modern (emphasis on religion, objective truth, and transcendence) with the modern (self-government, constitutional liberalism, entrepreneurial enterprise). The writings of neoconservative Irving Kristol and National Review-style conservative Charles Kesler clarify this special American path to modernity. Like thoughtful scholars before them, both make a sharp distinction between the moderate (and positive) Enlightenment (of Locke, Montesquieu, and Adam Smith) that gave birth to the American Revolution and the radical (and negative) Enlightenment (Condorcet and the philosophes) that gave birth to the Revolution in France.

Like their ideological opposites, Tocquevillians are also represented in business and government. In the foundation world, prevailing Gramscian ideas have been challenged by scholars funded by the Bradley, Olin, and Scaife foundations. For example, Michael Joyce of Bradley has called his foundation’s approach “Tocquevillian” and supported associations and individuals that foster moral and religious underpinnings to self-help and civic action. At the same time, Joyce called in “On Self-Government” (Policy Review, July-August 1998) for challenging the “political hegemony” of the service providers and “scientific managers” who run the “therapeutic state” that Tocqueville feared would result in “an immense and tutelary” power that threatened liberty. As for the political world, a brief list of those influenced by the Tocquevillian side of the argument would include, for example, Sen. Daniel Coats of Indiana, Sen. Joseph Lieberman of Connecticut, and Gov. George W. Bush of Texas. All have supported Tocquevillian initiatives and employed Tocquevillian language in endorsing education and welfare measures that emphasize the positive contributions of faith and responsibility.

There is also a third category to be considered here — those institutions and individuals that also oppose the Gramscian challenge, but who are not Tocquevillians because they reject one or more features of the trinity of American exceptionalism. For example, Reason magazine editor Virginia Postrel sees the world divided into pro-change “dynamists” and anti-change “stasists.” Postrel’s libertarianism emphasizes only one aspect of American exceptionalism, its dynamism, and slights the religious and patriotic pillars that in the Tocquevillian synthesis provide the nation’s moral and civic core.

Similarly, paleoconservatives such as Samuel Francis, a leading Buchananite intellectual, oppose modernism and the Enlightenment in all its aspects, not simply its radical wing. Likewise, secular patriots such as historian Arthur Schlesinger Jr. embrace a positive form of enlightened American nationalism but are uncomfortable with the religious and entrepreneurial (including the antistatist) traditions that complete the Tocquevillian trinity. Catholic social democrats like E.J. Dionne accept the religious part of the Tocquevillian trinity but would like to curb its risky dynamism and deemphasize its patriotism.

A few years ago, several conservative and religious intellectuals writing in a First Things magazine symposium suggested that American liberal democracy was facing a crisis of legitimacy. One of the symposium writers, Judge Robert Bork, suggests in his book Slouching Towards Gomorrah that “revolutionary” upheavals of the 1960s were “not a complete break with the spirit of the American past,” but inherent in the Enlightenment framework of America’s founding principles. Bork and others — including Paul Weyrich and Cal Thomas — appear to have speculated that perhaps America’s path to modernity was itself flawed (too much dynamism and too little morality). What could be called a partial Tocquevillian position of some conservative intellectuals and activists could be contrasted with the work of American Catholic Whigs — for example, the American Enterprise Institute’s Michael Novak and the Faith and Reason Institute’s Robert Royal — who have argued, in essence, that America’s founding principles are sound and that the three elements of the Tocquevillian synthesis (entrepreneurial dynamism, religion, and patriotism) are at the heart of the American experience and of America’s exceptional contribution to the idea of ordered liberty.

At the end of the day, it is unlikely that the libertarians, paleoconservatives, secular patriots, Catholic social democrats, or disaffected religious right intellectuals will mount an effective resistance to the continuing Gramscian assault. Only the Tocquevillians appear to have the strength — in terms of intellectual firepower, infrastructure, funding, media attention, and a comprehensive philosophy that taps into core American principles — to challenge the Gramscians with any chance of success.

Tocquevillianism: Mores Count

Writing in Policy Review in 1996, Adam Meyerson described the task of cultural renewal as “applied Tocquevillianism.” In explaining one of his key points, Tocqueville writes in Democracy in America that “mores” are central to the “Maintenance of a Democratic Republic in the United States.” He defines “mores” as not only “the habits of the heart,” but also the “different notions possessed by men, the various opinions current among them, and the sum of ideas that shape mental habits” — in short, he declares, “the whole moral and intellectual state of a people.”

One of the leading manifestos of the Tocquevillians is “A Call to Civil Society: Why Democracy Needs Moral Truths,” published by the Council on Civil Society. It outlines the traditional civic and moral values (Tocqueville’s “mores”) that buttress the republic. The document (endorsed by, among others, Sens. Coats and Lieberman, in addition to Don Eberly, Jean Bethke Elshtain, Francis Fukuyama, William Galston, Glenn Loury, Cornel West, James Q. Wilson, and Daniel Yankelovich) states that the “civic truths” of the American regime are “those of Western constitutionalism, rooted in both classical understandings of natural law and natural right and in the Judeo-Christian religious tradition. . . . The moral truths that make possible our experiment in self-government,” according to this statement, “are in large part biblical and religious,” informed by the “classical natural law tradition” and the “ideas of the Enlightenment.” The “most eloquent expressions” of these truths are “found in the Declaration of Independence, Washington’s Farewell Address, Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and Second Inaugural Address, and King’s Letter from the Birmingham Jail.”

The Tocquevillians, then, emphasize “renewing” and “rediscovering” American mores, suggesting that there is a healthy civic and moral core to the American regime that needs to be brought back to life. Moreover, if the first task is cultural renewal, the second task is cultural transmission. Thus, the “Call to Civil Society” declares that the “central task of every generation is moral transmission.” Religion, in particular, “has probably been the primary force” that “transmits from one generation to another the moral understandings that are essential to liberal democratic institutions.” Moreover, “[at] their best . . . our houses of worship foster values that are essential to human flourishing and democratic civil society: personal responsibility, respect for moral law, and neighbor-love or concern for others.” In addition, the statement declares that a “basic responsibility of the school is cultural transmission,” particularly “a knowledge of [the] country’s constitutional heritage, an understanding of what constitutes good citizenship, and an appreciation of [this] society’s common civic faith and shared moral philosophy.”

In the matter of practice, the past few years have also witnessed what could be called “Tocquevillian” initiatives that attempt to bring faith-based institutions (particularly churches) into federal and state legislative efforts to combat welfare and poverty. In the mid-1990s, Sen. Coats, working with William Bennett and other intellectuals, introduced a group of 19 bills known as the Project for American Renewal. Among other things, these bills advocated dollar for dollar tax credits for contributions to charitable organizations, including churches. Coats’s goal in introducing this legislation was to push the debate in a Tocquevillian direction, by getting policymakers thinking about new ways of involving religious and other civic associations in social welfare issues. Coats and others were asking why the faith community was being excluded from participating in federal social programs. At the same time, there are other Tocquevillians, including Michael Horowitz of the Hudson Institute, who favor tax credits, but worry that by accepting federal grant money the faith institutions could become dependent on government money and adjust their charitable projects to government initiatives.

In 1996 Congress included a “charitable choice” provision in the landmark welfare reform legislation. The charitable choice section means that if a state receives federal funds to provide services, it could not discriminate against religious organizations if they wanted to compete for federal grants to provide those services. The section includes guidelines designed simultaneously to protect both the religious character of the faith-based institutions receiving the federal funds and the civil rights of the individuals using the services. However, in 1998 the Clinton administration attempted to dilute the “charitable choice” concept in another piece of legislation by stating that administration lawyers opposed giving funds to what they described as “pervasively sectarian” institutions that could be inferred to mean churches doing charitable work.

Besides activity at the federal level, some states have started similar projects. Faithworks Indiana, a center sponsored by the state government, assists faith-based institutions with networking. In Illinois state agencies are reaching out to faith-based institutions through the “Partners for Hope” program. In Mississippi Governor Kirk Fordice launched the “Faith and Families” program with the ambitious goal of linking each of the state’s 5,000 churches with a welfare recipient.

Both Gov. George W. Bush in Texas and Sen. Joseph Lieberman in Congress have been friendly to some Tocquevillian approaches to legislation. Bush has promoted legislation to remove licensing barriers to church participation in social programs. He has also supported faith initiatives in welfare-to-work and prison reform projects. Lieberman supported the charitable choice provision of the welfare reform act and co-sponsored the National Youth Crime Prevention Demonstration Act that would promote “violence-free zones” by working with grassroots organizations, including faith-based organizations.

Legislative battlegrounds

Gramscian concepts have been on the march through Congress in recent years, meeting in at least some cases Tocquevillian resistance and counterattack. For example, the intellectual underpinning for the Gender Equity in Education Act of 1993 (and most gender equity legislation going back to the seminal Women’s Educational Equity Act, or WEEA, of the 1970s) is the essentially Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist concept of “systemic” or “institutionalized oppression.” In this view, the mainstream institutions of society, including the schools, enforce an “oppressive” system (in this case, a “patriarchy”) at the expense of a subordinate group (i.e., women and girls).

The work of Harvard education professor Carol Gilligan, promoted by the American Association of University Women (AAUW), was influential in persuading Congress to support the Gender Equity in Education Act. Professor Gilligan identifies the main obstacles to educational opportunity for American girls as the “patriarchal social order,” “androcentric and patriarchal norms,” and “Western thinking” — that is to say, the American “system” itself is at fault.

In speaking on behalf of the bill, Republican Senator Olympia Snowe of Maine made a Gramscian case, decrying “systemic discrimination against girls.” Democratic Rep. Patsy Mink of Hawaii likewise attacked the “pervasive nature” of anti-female bias in the educational system. Maryland Republican Rep. Connie Morella declared that throughout the schools “inequitable practices are widespread and persistent.” Not surprisingly, she insisted that “gender equity training” for “teachers, counselors, and administrators” be made available with federal funds. As noted earlier, one of the remedies to “systemic oppression” is “training” (of the “re-education” type described by Professor Kors) that seeks to alter the “consciousness” of individuals in both the dominant groups and subordinate groups. Thus, Sen. Snowe also advocated “training” programs to eliminate “sexual harassment in its very early stages in our Nation’s schools.”

In a related exercise in Gramscian reasoning, Congress in 1994 passed the Violence Against Women Act. According to Democratic Senator Joseph Biden of Delaware, the “whole purpose” of the bill was “to raise the consciousness of the American public.” The bill’s supporters charged that there was an “epidemic” of violent crime against women. Echoing Catharine MacKinnon (e.g., rape is “not an individual act” but “terrorism” within a “systemic context of group subjection like lynching”), the bill’s proponents filled the Congressional Record with the group-based (and Hegelian-Marxist) concept that women were being attacked because they were women and belonged to a subordinate group. It was argued by bill’s proponents that these “violent attacks” are a form of “sex discrimination,” “motivated by gender,” and that they “reinforce and maintain the disadvantaged status of women as a group.” Moreover, the individual attacks create a “climate of fear that makes all women afraid to step out of line.” Although there was no serious social science evidence of an “epidemic” of violence against women, the almost Marxist-style agitprop campaign worked, and the bill passed.

In 1991, the Congress passed a civil rights bill that altered a Supreme Court decision restricting racial and gender group remedies. The new bill strengthened the concept of “disparate impact”; which is a group-based notion that employment practices are discriminatory if they result in fewer members of “protected classes” (minorities and women) being hired than their percentage of the local workforce would presumably warrant.

Nine years later, in June 2000, the U.S. Senate passed the Hate Crimes Prevention Act, which would expand the category of hate crimes to include crimes motivated by hatred of women, gays, and the disabled (such crimes would receive stiffer sentences than crimes that were not motivated by hatred based on gender, sexual orientation, or disability status). In supporting the bill, Republican Sen. Gordon Smith of Oregon declared, “I have come to realize that hate crimes are different” because although they are “visited upon one person” they “are really directed at an entire community” (for example, the disabled community or the gay community). Democratic Sen. John Kerry of Massachusetts supported the legislation because, he insisted, “standing law has proven inadequate in the protection of many victimized groups.”

In a Wall Street Journal opinion piece, Dorothy Rabinowitz penned a Tocquevillian objection to this Gramscian legislation. Rabinowitz argued that hate crimes legislation undermined the traditional notion of equality under the law by “promulgating the fantastic argument that one act of violence is more significant than another because of the feelings that motivated the criminal.” Using egalitarian and anti-hierarchical (that is, Tocquevillian) rhetoric, Rabinowitz declared that Americans “don’t require two sets of laws — one for crimes against government-designated victims, the other for the rest of America.”

The Supreme Court and the White House

Like the Congress, the Supreme Court has witnessed intense arguments over core political principles recognizable as Gramscian and Tocquevillian. Indeed, the court itself often serves as a near-perfect microcosm of the clash between these opposing ideas.

A provision of the Violence Against Women Act, for example, that permitted women to sue their attackers in federal rather than state courts was overturned by a deeply divided Supreme Court 5-4. The majority argued on federalist grounds that states had primacy in this criminal justice area. In another 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court in 1999 ruled that local schools are subject to sexual discrimination suits under Title IX if their administrators fail to stop sexual harassment among schoolchildren. The case, Davis v. Monroe County Board of Education, involved two 10-year olds in the fifth grade. Justice Anthony Kennedy broke tradition by reading a stinging dissent from the bench. He was joined by Justices Rehnquist, Scalia, and Thomas. Justice Kennedy attacked the majority view that the actions of the 10-year-old boy constituted “gender discrimination.”

American Enterprise Institute scholar Christina Hoff Sommers in The War Against Boys noted that the court majority appears to accept the position of gender feminist groups that sexual harassment is “a kind of hate crime used by men to maintain and enforce the inferior status of women.” Thus, Sommers explains, in terms of feminist theory (implicitly accepted by the court), the 10-year-old boy “did not merely upset and frighten” the ten-year-old girl, “he demeaned her as a member of a socially subordinate group.” In effect, the court majority in Davis endorsed Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist assumptions of power relations between dominant and subordinate groups and applied those assumptions to American fifth graders.

Recently, a similarly divided Supreme Court has offered divergent rulings on homosexual rights. In June 2000 the court overturned the New Jersey State Supreme Court and ruled 5-4 in Boy Scouts of America v. Dale that the Boy Scouts did not have to employ an openly gay scoutmaster. The majority’s reasoning was quintessentially Tocquevillian — the First Amendment right of “freedom of association.” Writing for the majority, Chief Justice Rehnquist declared that “judicial disapproval” of a private organization’s values “does not justify the State’s effort to compel the organization to accept members where such acceptance” would change the organization’s message. The law, Rehnquist continued, “is not free to interfere with speech for no better reason than promoting an approved message or discouraging a disfavored one, however enlightened either purpose may strike the government.”

The dissent written by Justice Stevens, by contrast, declared that the states have the “right” to social experimentation. Stevens noted that “atavistic opinions” about women, minorities, gays, and aliens were the result of “traditional ways of thinking about members of unfamiliar classes.” Moreover, he insisted, “such prejudices are still prevalent” and “have caused serious and tangible harm to members of the class (gays) New Jersey seeks to protect.” Thus, the dissenters, in this case, agreed with the New Jersey Supreme Court that the state had “a compelling interest in eliminating the destructive consequences of discrimination from society” by requiring the Boy Scouts to employ gay scoutmasters.

In 1992 Colorado voters in a referendum adopted Amendment 2 to the state constitution barring local governments and the state from adding “homosexual orientation” as a specific category in city and state anti-discrimination ordinances. In 1996 in Romer v. Evans, the U.S. Supreme Court in a 6-3 ruling struck down Colorado’s Amendment 2. The court majority rejected the state of Colorado’s position that the amendment “does no more than deny homosexuals special rights.” The amendment, the court declared, “imposes a broad disability” on gays, “nullifies specific legal protections for this class (gays),” and infers “animosity towards the class that it affects.” Further, the majority insists that Amendment 2, “in making a general announcement that gays and lesbians shall not have any particular protections from the law, inflicts on them immediate, continuing, and real injuries.”

Justice Anton Scalia wrote a blistering dissent that went straight to the Gramscian roots of the decision. He attacked the majority “for inventing a novel and extravagant constitutional doctrine to take victory away from the traditional forces,” and for “verbally disparaging as bigotry adherence to traditional attitudes.” The court, Scalia wrote, “takes sides in the culture war”; it “sides with the knights,” that is, the elites, “reflecting the views and values of the lawyer class.” He concluded that: “Amendment 2 is designed to prevent the piecemeal deterioration of the sexual morality favored by the majority of Coloradans and is not only an appropriate means to that legitimate end, but a means that Americans have employed before. Striking it down is an act, not of judicial judgment, but of political will.”

Finally, Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist concepts have advanced in the executive branch as well. In the 1990s, the federal government attempted both to limit speech that adversely affected subordinate groups; and to promote group-based equality of result instead of equality of individual opportunity.

In 1994, for example, three residents of Berkeley, Calif., protested a federal Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD) plan to build subsidized housing for the homeless and mentally ill in their neighborhood. The residents wrote protest letters and organized their neighbors. HUD officials investigated the Berkeley residents for “discrimination” against the disabled and threatened them with $100,000 in fines. The government offered to drop their investigation (and the fines) if the neighborhood residents promised to stop speaking against the federal housing project.

Heather Mac Donald reported in the Wall Street Journal that one lawyer supporting HUD’s position argued that if the Berkeley residents’ protest letters resulted in the “denial of housing to a protected class of people, it ceases to be protected speech and becomes proscribed conduct.” This is classic Hegelian-Marxist thinking — actions (including free speech) that “objectively” harm people in a subordinate class are unjust (and should be outlawed). Eventually, hud withdrew its investigation. Nevertheless, the Berkeley residents brought suit against the HUD officials and won.

In 1999, to take another example, the Wall Street Journal reported that for the first time in American history the federal government was planning to require all companies doing business with the government to give federal officials the name, age, sex, race, and salary of every employee in the company during routine affirmative action audits. The purpose of the new plan, according to Secretary of Labor Alexis Herman, was to look for “racial and gender pay disparities.” The implicit assumption behind the Labor Department’s action is that “pay disparities” as such constitute a problem that requires a solution, even if salary differences are not the result of intentional discrimination. The Labor Department has long suggested that the continued existence of these disparities is evidence of “institutionalized discrimination.”

Transmission — or Transformation

The slow but steady advance of Gramscian and Hegelian-Marxist ideas through the major institutions of American democracy, including the Congress, the courts, and the executive branch, suggests that there are two different levels of political activity in twenty-first century America. On the surface, politicians seem increasingly inclined to converge on the center. Beneath, however, lies a deeper conflict that is ideological in the most profound sense of the term and that will surely continue for decades to come, regardless of who becomes president tomorrow, or four or eight or even 20 years from now.

As we have seen, Tocquevillians and Gramscians clash on almost everything that matters. Tocquevillians believe that there are objective moral truths applicable to all people at all times. Gramscians believe that moral “truths” are subjective and depend upon historical circumstances. Tocquevillans believe that these civic and moral truths must be revitalized in order to remoralize society. Gramscians believe that civic and moral “truths” must be socially constructed by subordinate groups in order to achieve political and cultural liberation. Tocquevillians believe that functionaries like teachers and police officers represent legitimate authority. Gramscians believe that teachers and police officers “objectively” represent power, not legitimacy. Tocquevillians believe in personal responsibility. Gramscians believe that “the personal is political.” In the final analysis, Tocquevillians favor the transmission of the American regime; Gramscians, its transformation.

While economic Marxism appears to be dead, the Hegelian variety articulated by Gramsci and others has not only survived the fall of the Berlin Wall but also gone on to challenge the American republic at the level of its most cherished ideas. For more than two centuries America has been an “exceptional” nation, one whose restless entrepreneurial dynamism has been tempered by patriotism and a strong religious-cultural core. The ultimate triumph of Gramscianism would mean the end of this very “exceptionalism.” America would, at last, become Europeanized: statist, thoroughly secular, post-patriotic, and concerned with group hierarchies and group rights in which the idea of equality before the law as traditionally understood by Americans would finally be abandoned. Beneath the surface of our seemingly placid times, the ideological, political, and historical stakes are enormous.

This essay, which originally appeared in the  February 2001 issue of the Hoover Institution’s Policy Review, is published here with permission.

Eight Ideas Forbidden on Campus

Heather MacDonald, writing in The Wall St. Journal, says there is a new list of forbidden ideas that can’t be mentioned on the modern college campus. Scott Johnson at Power Line cites the same list but says that even thinking the guilty thoughts puts you at risk of saying them out loud, and they must not be said.

These dangerous thoughts by two law professors, Amy Wax of the University of Pennsylvania Law School and Larry Alexander of San Diego University Law School, were published in the Philadelphia Inquirer in an August op-ed, “Paying the Price for the Breakdown of the Country’s Bourgeois Culture.”

Please remove small children and all heart patients from the room so we can print the unmentionables list. Ready? Brace yourselves—here it comes:

  • Get married before you have children and strive to stay married for their sake.
  • Get the education you need for gainful employment, work hard, and avoid idleness.
  • Go the extra mile for your employer or client.
  • Be a patriot, ready to serve the country.
  • Be neighborly, civic-minded, and charitable.
  • Avoid coarse language in public.
  • Be respectful of authority.
  • Eschew substance abuse and crime.

Alert readers will note that this is essentially a list of ordinary middle-class behaviors in the generation or so that preceded the cultural revolution of the 60’s, a point that many surveys and studies have made since.

Scott Johnson points out that Charles Murray, who cannot be heard on many campuses without massive police protection, made much the same point in his book, Coming Apart: The State of White America, 1960-2010. Murray urged what he calls “the new upper class” to drop its condescending non-judgmentalism: “Married, educated people who work hard and conscientiously raise their kids shouldn’t hesitate to voice their disapproval of those who defy these norms. When it comes to marriage and the work ethic, the new upper class must start preaching what it practices.”

But it is not what the campus left wants to hear. Half of the University of Pennsylvania Law faculty denounced the Wax-Alexander column without bothering to make any arguments against it.

“University of San Diego Law President Stephen] Ferruolo’s schoolwide letter was one of the worst examples,” writes Mac Donald. “The dean simply announced that Mr. Alexander’s “views” were not “representative of the views of our law school community” and suggested that they were insensitive to “many students” who feel “vulnerable, marginalized or fearful that they are not welcomed.” He did not raise any specific objections to Mr. Alexander’s arguments, or even reveal what the arguments were.” USD Law faculty member Thomas A. Smith, who blogs under the title “The Right Coast” suggested that the dean should resign as a result of his content-free reaction to the column.

In The Federalist, George W. Dent, Jr, noted that several academics at the University of Pennsylvania chose not to debate Wax and Alexander but to ignore what they said and, instead, to vilify them for things they did not say. The critiques are stunning in their dishonesty.

“Penn Law Dean Ted Ruger responded in a column that tied the Wax-Alexander item to the events in Charlottesville. This was ethically troubling since it associates a Nazi rally with a totally unrelated social analysis. Much worse, however, he said, “I reject emphatically any claim that a single cultural tradition is better than all others.”

“Wax and Alexander made no such claim. What they said is, ‘All cultures are not equal.’ That statement seems not only defensible but axiomatic; would anyone claim that China during the Cultural Revolution is morally equal to China today? If all cultures are equal, then nothing we do can make our culture either better or worse. Is that what Dean Ruger believes?”

Critics Slam DeVos for Being Fair

Nearly 60 Democratic legislators tweeted criticism of Education Secretary Betsy Devos’ speech, which advocated a fairer approach and more respect for due process in campus Title IX tribunals. The preferred adjectives included “terrible,” “despicable,” “insulting, “perverse,” “appalling,” “disgraceful,” “shameful,” and “dangerous. No congressional Democrat, in any way, praised her remarks, which insisted on the rights of both accusers and accused.

Most of this commentary showed little or no awareness of what goes on in these hearings and how unfair many are to the males involved. Former Vice President Joe Biden went even further than most, telling accusers’ rights activists that they needed to continue to speak up, offering an “analogy” to critics of the “Nazis marching” in Virginia: “When we’re silent, we give a rationale, an excuse to people who are the very people we’ve been fighting all along.”

Twenty-nine Democratic or Democratic-affiliated senators (three-fifths of the Senate Democratic caucus) followed this activity with a letter to DeVos. The senators demanded that the Secretary keep in place the Dear Colleague letter, the symbol of Obama-era unfairness, even as their document didn’t mention the presumption of innocence, due process, or fairness. Their letter’s only mention of “justice” came in a section that spoke of “survivors [emphasis added] in obtaining justice.” It seems, alas, that even-handed justice is no longer a goal for congressional Democrats.

Accusers’ Rights Activists

If Democratic legislators chose vitriolic, over-the-top rhetoric to respond to DeVos, the preferred approach of the accusers’ rights movement was an affirmative attempt to mislead. The pattern began during DeVos’ speech itself; as the Secretary recounted cases of students being denied due process, Know Your IX co-founder Alexandra Brodksy tweeted that these abuses of fairness all somehow violated the Dear Colleague letter. It should go without saying that in the 180 or so due process lawsuits, Know Your IX has never filed an amicus brief making such a point. That’s no surprise coming from an organization whose other co-founder, Dana Bolger, had celebrated perhaps the single most unjust of any of the post-Dear Colleague campus cases, the Amherst one.

In an article saying that DeVos’ speech was “profoundly stupid,” Know Your IX Sejal Singh fantastically claimed that the Dear Colleague letter “affords students accused of sexual violence with more procedural rights than . . . the Due Process Clause of the Constitution otherwise provides students in campus discipline.” (Her citations for this remarkable assertion were two pieces by Know Your IX’s Brodsky.) Singh’s op-ed would have come as news to judges in the recent Penn State and Miami decisions, both of whom cited the Due Process Clause in cases dealing with a refusal to provide exculpatory evidence to the tribunal (not mentioned in the Dear Colleague letter at all) and refusal to allow cross-examination (discouraged by the Dear Colleague letter). It’s hard to know whether Singh and her Know Your IX colleagues are being deliberately misleading, or are simply ignorant of an issue with which they have been involved for several years.

Higher-Ed Status Quo

The third group of DeVos critics came from within the higher-ed establishment itself. Wesleyan president Michael Roth, for instance, tweeted, “We must #StopDeVos from pushing us back 2 an era when assault and harassment were acceptable parts of campus culture.” (He was responding, it’s worth noting, to a speech organized around a theme that due process served all sides.) Roth recalled for the New York Times “‘the times when men, with impunity, would throw their weight around,’ sexually harassing and assaulting women . . . ‘Changing that culture over the last decade, as the Obama administration tried to do, was an enormous contribution.’” The Obama guidance was issued four years after Roth took charge at Wesleyan. There’s no evidence he informed prospective parents of the extraordinarily dangerous situation that purportedly existed on his campus between 2007 and 2011.

Then there was a Chronicle piece (celebrated by accusers’ rights activists) by higher-ed lawyer Scott Schneider, former associate general counsel at Tulane who provides what he describes as “expert witness testimony on matters dealing with institutional response to allegations of sexual misconduct and designs and delivers training programs on a host of education issues, including Title IX compliance obligations.”

As Scott Greenfield has pointed out, Schneider left the erroneous impression that 1997 OCR guidance and the Supreme Court adopted the same “definition” of sexual harassment, for a period of “almost 20 years.” The 1997 OCR guidance speaks of sexual harassment that is “sufficiently severe, persistent, or pervasive to limit a student’s ability to participate in or benefit from the education program.” By contrast, the Supreme Court, in 1999, used the following formulation: “so severe, pervasive, and objectively offensive, and that so undermines and detracts from the victims’ educational experience.” (The emphasis in each instance is added to show the differences between the two “definitions,” with the Supreme Court’s notably tighter than the OCR guidance Schneider elected to quote.) Perhaps Schneider simply assumed (likely correctly) that most Chronicle readers wouldn’t bother checking on the precise wording of Davis to note the differences between it and the 1997 OCR guidance he quoted.

For the most part, Schneider’s approach to DeVos’ speech was to interpret the Secretary’s words divorced from the context of the six years since the Dear Colleague letter. After, for instance, quoting DeVos’ concerns that witnesses might not be cross-examined and evidence might not be presented to both parties, Schneider asserted, “In its 2014 ‘Questions and Answers on Title IX and Sexual Violence,’ the department’s Office for Civil Rights, or OCR, also noted that ‘in all cases, a school’s Title IX investigation must be adequate, reliable, impartial, and prompt, and include the opportunity for both parties to present witnesses and other evidence.’”

There have been dozens of lawsuits since the issuance of the Dear Colleague letter dealing with these themes. Moreover, the whole thrust of the single-investigator model is to eliminate any form of cross-examination and minimize the amount of evidence that an accused student sees. During her nearly four years running OCR, Catherine Lhamon ignored the lawsuits as the White House spoke positively of the single-investigator model. Lhamon refused to meet with groups advocating for accused students (SAVE and FACE); she initially refused (in writing) to even meet with FIRE. The Obama administration spent four years in one-sided publicity portraying the nation’s college campuses as awash in violent crime, with Lhamon publicly threatening to pull funds if they didn’t do enough. And it’s Schneider’s argument that pulling out a line OCR showed no interest in enforcing—while ignoring what OCR actually did during the Lhamon years—showed that DeVos had misstated the guidance?

Similarly, in a passage quoted by Greenfield, Schneider chastised DeVos for saying that “even lawyers” found Obama-era guidance “confusing” to navigate. The expert witness would have none of it: “In the event that there was any confusion about that guidance,” he reasoned, the 2014 “Questions and Answers” document provided the needed “straightforward” answers.

Consider just one sentence from the 46-page 2014 guidance: “Of course, a school should ensure that steps to accord any due process rights do not restrict or unnecessarily delay the protections provided by Title IX to the complainant.” Is that sentence “confusing”—or, as Schneider claimed, “straightforward”? Given that multiple courts (not to mention myriad filings from lawyers on both sides of the issue) have come to dramatically differing conclusions on due process and Title IX tribunals, it does seem as if some lawyers—that is, federal judges—don’t consider the guidance to be “straightforward.”

But Schneider’s article served a purpose—not necessarily persuading people, but muddying the waters enough for defenders of the status quo to present a tenable claim that DeVos was wrong. After all, they can say, the Chronicle published it.

The Revolution Turns on Its Base

The assistant professor probably thought she was safe from the madcap race-and-gender left since she was of mixed-race, queer and lecturing on Sappho. But she was woefully wrong. Black-clad demonstrators called her a “race traitor for not opposing the Humanities Syllabus, and they insisted she was “ableist” and a “gaslighter,” a relatively new insult of the left meaning someone who makes disadvantaged people doubt the reality of their oppression.

The teacher may well have felt doubly secure because she had revealed that she suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder and doubted she could complete the lecture if protesters appeared.

The scene was Reed College in Portland, Oregon, and in an article in the September 9th issue of The Economist, the assistant professor teaching Sappho, Lucia Martinez Valdivia, confessed she is afraid of her students, just as another professor anonymously confessed the same thing to Vox in the most famous college article of 2015, “I’m a Liberal Professor, and I’m Afraid of My Students.”

“I‘m intimidated by these students,” said the Reed professor in her blog, “I am scared to death to teach courses on race, gender or sexuality, or even texts that bring these issues up in any way. … I’m at a loss as how to begin to address it, especially since many of these students don’t believe in historicity or objective facts (they denounce the latter as being a tool of the white cis-heteropatriarchy).”

Denying facts and running roughshod over dissent are not the cutting edge of the campus left. This is a newer phase of the revolution when the revolutionaries turn on their own. We had a glimpse of this at Evergreen State College a few weeks ago when Bret Weinstein, perhaps the left-most professor on campus, was attacked and abused by the left-most students for not leaving the campus on the day the young Jacobins ordered all white people to clear out. So, Weinstein was forced to relocate his family and go on the Tucker Carlson Show on Fox.

A few weeks after the Reed incident, the college invited Kimberly Peirce, who may have looked like a safe choice. She is the “gender-fluid” director of “Boys Don’t Cry,” (1999) praised as the first sympathetic feature film about transgendered people. But no, the hard leftists at Reed were furious that Peirce had used Hillary Swank, a non-trans actor, as the lead. So, protesters ripped down posters promoting the event, and put up their own, saying “Fuck Your Transphobia” and “Fuck this cis white bitch” (“CIS” is a disparaging word of people still identifying with their birth sex.)

At Reason, Robbie Soave wrote: “This is the elite American college campus: a place where even queer, leftist professors and filmmakers are afraid of being sent to the guillotine by self-professed radical students.”

The Economist reported that Humanities courses seem to be a recurrent source of friction because of their “Eurocentric” and “racist” content and because their authors are predominantly male and white.

Some students at Reed admit they are afraid to share their feelings with other students for fear of being targeted by campus protesters. But some students seem to resent the hard-left activists. One black student shouted down the activists: “This is a classroom. This is not the place. We are trying to learn. We are freshman students.” The Economist attached a subhead to this comment: “Thermidorian Reaction” but we are likely to see a good many more teen Robespierres before Thermidor arrives.

De Vos to End One-Sided Campus Sex Rulings

In the debate over campus due process, it would be difficult to overstate the significance of Education Secretary Betsy DeVos’ George Mason speech. No comparable address occurred during the Obama years—former Education Secretary Arne Duncan largely deferred on the issue to Russlynn Ali and Catherine Lhamon, who ran the Office for Civil Rights (OCR) during the Obama years. Ali and Lhamon spent years evading the obvious question: why was it necessary, in April 2011, to reinterpret Title IX to allow the federal government to dictate campus sexual assault procedures? When Lhamon finally provided a written response to that question, in 2016, her purpose seemed to be more to mislead than explain. Indeed, the fact that DeVos even met with students who said they had been wrongly accused of sexual assault—something that Ali and Lhamon refused to do—was a path-breaking decision.

In the aftermath of the DeVos speech, four themes are worth considering.

Culture of Due Process

Before the speech, an astute observer of campus sexual assault predicted to me that the DeVos address would function as a Rorschach test, and he proved correct. The Education Secretary repeatedly, and forcefully, denounced sexual assault. She also discussed due process, including in some of these passages:

  • “One person denied due process is one too many.”
  • “Justice demands humility, wisdom, and prudence. It requires a serious pursuit of truth.”
  • “No student should be forced to sue their way to due process.”
  • “Any school that uses a system biased toward finding a student responsible for sexual misconduct also commits discrimination.”
  • “Due process is the foundation of any system of justice that seeks a fair outcome. Due process either protects everyone, or it protects no one.”

In virtually any other context of American life (with, perhaps, the exception of some national security debates), these comments would be seen as embodying fundamental American principles—which, of course, they did. Yet DeVos’ comments generated furious condemnation from Democratic politicians and liberal activists (David French summarizes, and critiques, some of the more strident of these claims.) The left-wing commentator Amy Siskind deemed DeVos’ speech a signal toward authoritarianism, before proclaiming, “STFU with your hackneyed due process talking point.” Stanford Law professor Michele Dauber described the speech as “one long dark dog whistle for men’s rights activists.” Rob Ranco, a Texas civil rights lawyer, said after the speech that he would “be OK if Betsy DeVos was sexually assaulted.”

These statements—again—came in response to a speech in which the Education Secretary repeatedly condemned sexual assault and repeatedly expressed her desire to see colleges handle sexual assault allegations under the banner of Title IX.

Yet, it’s clear, her belief that due process is important in the Title IX context is now seen in many quarters as excusing rape—that a system that allows accused parties basic rights and protections is one that will somehow always yield a not guilty finding. This is an enormous, and deeply troubling, cultural change. But it’s also, unfortunately, the logical outgrowth of the Obama administration’s approach to this issue. Six years of an implicit (and occasionally explicit) message that due process was an obstacle, rather than a necessary prerequisite, to campus justice has brought us to this point.

Democrats and the Accusers’ Rights Movement

Neither of our two major parties has a good record on civil liberties and due process matters, but over the past 50 years, the Democrats traditionally have been the more supportive party on these questions. On campus due process, however, the Democrats have become the accusers’ rights party, with no daylight between key party members and the accusers’ rights movement.

Former Vice President Joe Biden, for instance, spent the day after the DeVos speech appearing at an event hosted by Know Your IX, probably the most extreme of the major accusers’ rights organizations. Bernie Sanders, who in his 2016 presidential bid had (correctly) said law enforcement should handle campus violent crime, realized that he needed to reverse himself in the new party climate, and immediately condemned DeVos’ speech.

California Senator Kamala Harris, another prospective 2020 presidential candidate, came out against a presumption of innocence in campus sexual assault cases. In a tweet responding to a news report indicating DeVos’ skepticism about Obama-era guidelines, Harris thundered, “Survivors of sexual assault deserve to be believed, not blamed.” The statement recalled the notorious remarks of Dartmouth Title IX official Amanda Childress: “Why could we not expel a student based on an allegation?” That a U.S. senator and former state attorney general is now as extreme as an obscure campus administrator gives a sense of how dramatically the accusers’ rights perspective, once a fringe, has consumed the Democratic Party.

The two most significant Democratic statements, however, came from Washington Senator Patty Murray. The first—which deserves far more attention than it has received—came the day before the DeVos speech. In a press release, the Washington senator maintained, “The standard of proof guidance provided in the [Dear Colleague] letter has led to more women and men coming forward about their sexual violence experiences.” This was the clearest statement I’ve seen from a defender of the Obama-era policies that reporting will increase if colleges rig the procedures to increase the chances of a guilty finding. Much like Harris’ statement, this mindset presumes guilt.

The day after DeVos’ speech, Murray wrote the Education Secretary to demand that the Dear Colleague letter should be retained. Absent from her missive: any reference to “due process,” “fairness,” or “presumption of innocence.” In a world where every allegation was clearly true, the perspective of Murray and many of her fellow Democrats—in favor of a campus process designed to vindicate all accusers’ allegation might make sense. In the world in which we live, the party’s abandonment of civil liberties for college students is outrageous.

It’s also worth noting that while Democratic legislators might have abandoned due process, many prominent liberals and feminists have not. Harvard Law professors Jeannie Suk Gersen, Janet Halley, Elizabeth Bartholet, and Nancy Gertner have been tireless on this issue; Suk Gersen’s co-authored law review article (with Jacob Gersen) and her New Yorker columns on Title IX and due process are must-reads. Laura Kipnis’ book penetrated into the public consciousness in a way that no other work on this topic has done. Lara Bazelon has written several influential commentaries. Emily Yoffe’s research-based journalism at Slate and now the Atlantic provides a reminder that a left-of-center worldview doesn’t require accepting junk science or the infantilization of women. And, as I’ve noted previously, while I’ve been very critical of the Obama-era policies, I was nonetheless an Obama donor and voter in both 2008 and 2012.

The Rationales of Obama Officials

The clearest explanation for Obama’s policies from either of his two OCR heads came in this 2014 exchange between Catherine Lhamon and Tennessee Senator Lamar Alexander. Lhamon preposterously claimed that by confirming her, the Senate gave her the authority to “explain” Title IX—including, it seems, to the Senate itself, and by the threat of losing federal funds to all colleges and universities.

The response of high-level Obama Education Department officials to the DeVos address perhaps explains their previous public reticence. Lhamon seemed to express opposition to any executive branch office or agency using the regulatory process, as opposed to (her preference) issuing unilateral guidance. Ali wildly asserted that DeVos’ address would “take us back to a system that disempowers and silences survivors of sexual violence.” Weakening due process as the 2011 guidance did, Ali continued, amounted to “common sense protections,” and removing these provisions would create “an environment that is hostile to student survivors of sexual violence.”

The former boss of Ali and Lhamon, Education Secretary Arne Duncan, bizarrely suggested that DeVos’ speech meant that she was “choosing politics over students.” As Duncan surely knows, the politics of this issue move in one direction and one direction only—against due process for accused students. There was zero political benefit to DeVos’ remarks—she did the right thing morally and ethically, but took a political risk.

How Campus Tribunals Operate

A final point: I’ve noticed even in some columns supportive of DeVos’ efforts an acceptance of one vital element of the Obama narrative: that some action was necessary in 2011 because colleges were indifferent to the victims in their midst. At one level, this is true—doubtless, colleges were indifferent in the 1970s or 1980s when people challenged whether “date rape” could even occur. And there were some key cases involving athletes in the 2000s where colleges clearly looked to sweep things under the rug.

But, more generally, the claim that the typical college campus in the years immediately before the Obama guidance routinely mistreated sexual assault accusers is a hard argument to credit. We actually have a good case study of this: the Duke lacrosse case. Here was a claim that was as false as a rape claim possibly could be. Yet 88 Duke professors signed a public document affirming that something “happened” to accuser Crystal Mangum, and promising to continue their crusade “regardless of the results of the police investigation.” The Duke administration, behind the scenes, seemed equally willing to presume guilt. Could such a campus leadership—whose basic ideological culture on gender issues was comparable to that of most elite schools in the decade before the 2011 Dear Colleague letter—was celebrating the truth of Crystal Mangum but doubting the veracity of actual student victims?

Nor were pre-Obama Duke procedures somehow unfair to the accuser. Quite the reverse: after the lacrosse case, the university revised its sexual assault procedures to make it far more likely an accused student would be found guilty, while dramatically expanding the definition of what constituted sexual assault on the Duke campus. The new definition stated as a “guiding principle” a reminder that “real or perceived power differentials between individuals may create an unintentional atmosphere of coercion.” That is two years before the Obama administration acted, a Duke student could be found guilty of sexual assault if his accuser “perceived” him as more powerful, thereby creating “unintentional” coercion—even if he did absolutely nothing wrong.

Again, does this sound like an environment that was indifferent to campus victims?

Fewer Humanities Courses, More Ph.D.’s

A new report says that humanities departments in the United States produced 5,891 doctorates in 2015, the largest since the numbers were first tracked in 1987.

Meanwhile, the chief market for those grad school grads, a tenure-track position at a decent school, has steadily contracted. Things just keep getting worse. The Humanities Indicators press release notes that regular faculty jobs remain below pre-recession numbers for the seventh year in a row with English and Religion undergoing particular declines in the last year, respectively, seven and 11 percent. So, each year academia produces more and more people competing for fewer and fewer jobs. This increasing stream of new doctorates at a time of ever dimmer employment prospects makes no economic sense.

Many young Ph.D.’s are taking adjunct jobs, scrambling to pay rent and hoping for something better the following year. They linger on the edges of the profession trying to maintain a career that barely exists.

Seeking a ‘Rightful Place’

It is easy to tell them to face facts and move on, to find something else. One friend from graduate school took one-year positions at state universities for two or three years, then dropped the whole thing and went to law school. He graduated and made a successful 25-year career in public and private practice and retired last year in comfort. Why don’t adjuncts and lecturers whining about low pay, no respect, and job insecurity do the same? They have strong SAT skills and can do well in the Information Economy. Why remain in academia on the bottom rung?

One reason is clear, at least for humanities Ph.D.’s. They spent six or seven years — all of their twenties — training for it. They logged two years of dissertation research and writing and can’t imagine throwing it in the trash. Most humanities graduates end up in adjunct or lecturer positions, not tenure-track posts. To walk away from academia is to admit a wasted young adulthood, to accept a personal failure. “I didn’t take all those seminars, read 500 books and 600 essays, sit at the feet of 20 professors, and devise a project of original research just for my own edification,” they grumble. “I want my rightful place in the profession.”

Each year when they receive the wrong answer to their 25 job applications, they get the message that the profession doesn’t want them. The feeling of betrayal grows. They did everything right—passing qualifying exams, writing good seminar papers, meeting with professors, filing a dissertation—but no final reward followed. The graduate programs that took them in supported and encouraged them for years, but now they’re on their own. The departments that awarded them a doctorate can’t help them anymore.

How the Tenured Benefit

We can aim a simple accusation at the professors in these Ph.D.-overproducing programs. Why take in so many graduate students who won’t ever win tenure-track jobs? We know the answers, though the professors don’t like to voice them.

  • Prestige—It flatters professors to have a research profile, and graduate students contribute to it both for the faculty and for the department.
  • Teaching support—With graduate students available to handle freshman composition and language classes in literary fields and discussion sections (and grading) in large first-year lecture courses in history, art history, philosophy, classics, and religion, faculty members are free to teach advanced courses and graduate seminars.

Those are substantial benefits for a tenured professor. The only cost for them is the sight of graduate students doing the work and receiving little compensation in the form of monthly pay or a job at the end of their training. It’s easy for professors to overlook that cost.

But there is another culpability, one that stands apart from the direct relationship between professors and graduate students. It goes to the reasons why the job market is so poor for humanities Ph.D.’s in the first place. Why aren’t there more jobs? Because the humanities at the undergraduate level are not in a growth mode.

Enrollments are down, and so are majors. General education requirements that used to be met only by courses in the humanities can now be filled by social science courses as well (especially by the “Studies” departments). Or, those requirements have been dropped altogether.

Where have the professors been while all this has happened? Certainly not on the front lines in making sure that English and the rest remain at the center of the curriculum. They have proven wholly ineffectual in keeping the fields strong and impressive on campus.

This is a case of people in a discipline failing to maintain it. We have had two generations of humanities professors who have run the profession but produced only shrinking enrollments and majors, fewer jobs, and the ongoing conversion of regular faulty lines into adjunct positions. Sales of monographs are low, and most journal articles get published and are hardly ever looked at again. The professors have claimed numerous breakthroughs in theory and practice, and one must salute the way so many academic novelties have made their way into American culture with great success.

But the state of their own disciplines is materially abysmal. They are the stewards of the humanities, and they have compiled a record of flat incompetence when it comes to the institutional standing of the departments. They have all the confidence in the world when ruminating over intersectionality and sexual politics, but when it comes to attracting more freshmen to the major, keeping humanities courses in general-ed requirements, obtaining outside money for programs . . . they know little or nothing. It reminds me of the northern European bishops who have presided over the utter collapse of the Catholic Churches in their countries but still presume to press certain reforms that other bishops who have growing congregations reject.

Is Resentment an Answer?

This institutional failure is, we should realize, a sterner indictment of the humanities professoriate than are the ideological and intellectual erosions that the disciplines have suffered over the years. To charges of tenured radicalism and theory hype, they have numerous answers. When outside critics complain about how the professors have politicized the profession, they reply that the professional was always politicized, yet in a disguised way.

But when they are told that the jobs went down again this year, or that the number of majors in their own institutions have reached a new low, they have no answers except resentment. It’s the fault of the corporate university, of careerist students, of a Republican, anti-intellectual culture.

These reasons sound like excuses, not explanations. They are an implicit confession that the professors don’t know how to make their classes compelling and popular (if undergraduate enrollments went up, the dean couldn’t keep pushing adjunct lines at them).  Instead of looking closely in the mirror and deciding to change their ways to set about making themselves attractive to 19-year-olds and respectable to colleagues in the sciences, they take the easy route of teaching their classes and going home. The shrinking of the humanities doesn’t hit them in a practical way except to make their classes smaller.

This is to say that market conditions mean nothing to the tenured professor. He is immune to downturns. The only way he can lose his job is through an administration that closes his department, and no administrator wants that to happen on his watch. The steady stream of bad news for the humanities is easy to ignore.

This institutional failure is more devastating than the intellectual failures of the recent humanities. We have had a leadership that has prosecuted Queer Theory, Political Criticism, and a host of other avant garde notions with a high measure of self-importance. But these putatively brilliant eggheads haven’t been able to preserve their own departments. They haven’t convinced undergraduates of their own value. They haven’t kept the administrators in their corner. At some point, one would think, they would acknowledge their failure and perhaps even question whether their whether their intellectual creations share some of the blame. But they’ll never have to. They have tenure.

Race and Gender Crowd Already in Mid-Season Form

There is so much zany nonsense erupting on campuses these days that many items deserving notice get buried in the avalanche. Here are three from the past weeks that, while perhaps not each warranting a full-fledged article, are too good to ignore.

Charlottesville: No Violence From “Our” Side?

Walt Heinecke somehow finds time to serve as an associate professor in the University of Virginia’s Curry School of Education despite what appears to be a full-time career as protest organizer,  participant, and ubiquitous “community activist.” “As hellish as August 12 was for much of Charlottesville,” he commented to C-Ville Weekly, “Heinecke says the counter-demonstrations in McGuffey and Justice parks ‘were very successful. There was no violence in either of our parks.’ His team provided food and water to counter-protesters, as well as first aid for tear gassing and contusions, including to one white nationalist ‘who was pretty beat up,’ says Heinecke.”

Since there was no violence, especially from the noble counter-protesters — all of whom he claimed were local since “they went out to defend their community” — that “white nationalist” must have beat himself up.

Mark Lilla and Critics

Last November Columbia humanities professor Mark Lilla published a controversial op-ed in The New York Times, “The End of Identity Liberalism,” arguing that “American liberalism has slipped into a kind of moral panic about racial, gender and sexual identity that has distorted liberalism’s message and prevented it from becoming a unifying force capable of governing.” His message was repeated and often attacked in a number of interviews (such as Salon and Slate), amplified and extended in a recent book, The Once and Future Liberal: After Identity Politics, and most recently presented in long essay based on his book in the Chronicle of Higher Education, “How Colleges Are Strangling Liberalism.”

Some of Lilla’s critics were so flabbergasted by his argument that they unwittingly confirmed it. In his August 25 interview, for example, Slate’s Isaac Chotiner simply could not comprehend how Lilla does not believe white racism “is the central reason” for the Democrats’ decline. “The central reason?” Lilla replied. “Not at all, not at all. Just go out there. It’s not the central reason.”

“We do disagree,” Lilla continued, “and frankly I have to say I feel you are illustrating my point…. [T]here’s been a kind of slightly hysterical tone about race that leads us to overestimate its significance in particular things…. It’s just not where the country is.”

Now comes Johns Hopkins professor Martha S. Jones, about whom Lilla could say the same thing. Responding to his recent Chronicle essay, she argues (“What Mark Lilla Gets Wrong About Students,” Chronicle, August 24) that “Lilla managed to overlook my students and others like them.” She differs, “because my thinking grows out of the granular every day of campus life. From my vantage point, students are democracy’s newest agents, able to engage the wider world while also understanding their places in it.”

Her “vantage point” — “For nearly 20 years I have taught African-American history and critical race theory” — was of course not overlooked by Lilla, whose Chronicle essay called specific attention to the not altogether beneficial fact that “[t]he study of identity groups now seemed the most urgent scholarly and political task, and soon there was an extraordinary proliferation of departments, research centers, and professorial chairs devoted to it.”

Criticizing Lilla for “rely[ing] upon on little more than broad, untethered musings” about what today’s students are like, Jones dips into her granular bag and pulls out two examples to counter Lilla’s generalizations. Alas, they do not.

She points to an opinion piece by Tony, a former student, “Confederate Memorials Endorse Treason And Racism.” Aside from the fact that they often do more or less, than that (see, for example, excellent essays here by Peter Wood and in the Knoxville Mercury), Tony’s essay acknowledges that “private citizens, on their private property, should be allowed to fly any flag or let any statue stand” but emphasizes that the First Amendment “doesn’t discuss the government’s own speech. Thus, when it comes to statues and flags being on government property, it is strictly a matter of policy preference.”

Fair enough, but the author makes the distinction between government speech on public property and private speech on private property so absolute and fundamental that it is not clear whether he recognizes any limits on purging public spaces of offensive symbols. Would he and his mentor, Professor Jones, for example, tear down the Confederate monuments in the Gettysburg National Military Park? In addition to the prominent state monuments, a Gettysburg site notes, “A small handful of unit monuments have been placed at Gettysburg, with over half erected since 1980.” And what of the Confederate dead buried at Arlington National Cemetery, and the imposing monument there honoring them?

Moving from one sort of battlefield to another, what would Professor Jones and her protégé do about Confederate flags in dormitory windows? “When the Confederate flag flew at Harvard,” The Washington Post noted, Harvard let it fly as protected speech. Harvard, of course, is private; would a public institution be justified in prohibiting its display?

Professor Jones’ own view of these questions is suggested by the second student she enlists to combat Lilla’s view that today’s students are obsessed with matters of racial and ethnic identity. “For many weeks,” she writes, “the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor campus, where I then taught, was subjected to a white-supremacist poster campaign. Opposition to these anonymous provocateurs was led by, among others, Lakyrra, a young woman in my class.” Observing their protest, Professor Jones continues, “I saw young people posing questions about the future of our university. How, for example, should freedom of expression operate in the face of hateful acts that threaten another of our ideals, the dignity of all community members?”

I cannot speak for Mark Lilla, but I suspect he would regard Lakyrra’s and Professor Jones’ view of posters as “hateful acts” rather than protected speech as further confirmation of his views.

Is Diversity Hiring Counterproductive?

After years of publishing studies on gender equity issues, Inside Higher Ed has yet another article about yet another such report.

This one, a study of faculty representation and wage gaps in six major fields at 40 selective public universities, concentrates on the relative absence of blacks in STEM fields, noting that there have been efforts to diversity but that “such efforts haven’t led to any premium in pay for those hired to contribute to campus diversity.” In this age of obfuscation double-speak (“race conscious” or “race sensitive” rather than racially discriminatory hiring and admissions, etc.) it is almost refreshing to see such an unembarrassed call for treating a dark epidermis as a qualification for higher pay.

But believe it or not, that is not the most dramatic assertion in this new study. The authors found (unsurprisingly) that faculty representation by race and gender is closely related to the number of underrepresented Ph.Ds. in various fields, except for “black faculty members, who are overrepresented in non-STEM fields relative to Ph.D. production, and underrepresented among STEM faculty relative to Ph.Ds. granted.”

The authors’ explanation for this imbalance is quite striking, and has unexpected implications for the ubiquitous diversity hiring now occurring in higher education: “If a rationale for policies to improve faculty diversity is to provide role models for underrepresented students,” they point out, “and if it is presumed that students will gravitate toward such role models, the current diversity imbalance in higher education implies that students from underrepresented groups may be nudged toward lower-paying, non-STEM fields. This would serve to perpetuate an already-existing imbalance in the work force, both in academia and the broader labor market.”

Role model, diversity hiring, in short, is not only legally questionable and otherwise offensive to those who still believe burdens and benefits should not be distributed based on race. It also may contribute substantially to steering blacks into lower paying fields.

But it does continue to succeed at least in signaling the virtue of their employers.

Why I’m Leaving the Political Science Association

Looking forward to a lively annual conference of the American Political Science Association, due to start this week in San Francisco, I proposed a panel on “Viewpoint Diversity in Political Science.” After all, I thought, wasn’t the 2016 election a signal lesson in the continuing relevance of diverse viewpoints in the American body politic?

My submission featured four of the most prominent political scientists in the country who have written on the issue of political diversity in the field. They included Joshua Dunn, Professor and Chair of the Department of Political Science at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs, whose co-authored 2016 book entitled Passing on the Right: Conservative Professors in the Progressive University has been a focus of the national discussion among academics interested in the issue; and April Kelly-Woessner, Professor of Political Science and Chair of the Department of Politics, Philosophy and Legal Studies at Elizabethtown College, whose co-authored 2011 book The Still Divided Academy: How Competing Visions of Power Politics and Diversity Complicate the Mission of Higher Education is the gold standard on how to promote respectful political dialogue on campus.

Quaint Notions of White Identity?

Now, granted, every major conference receives far more submissions than it can accept. Still, I was surprised when the panel was rejected. I assumed that it had been bested by superior panels submitted to the jointly-organized teaching and education sections of the conference. But when the official program came out, I could see that it was not. Instead, it was crowded out by APSA’s serious lack of political diversity.

A total of 11 full panels or roundtables were accepted in the teaching and education sections. Of these, 7 are on mainstream teaching topics. Another 4 were set aside for, shall we say, more politicized topics. One, entitled “Let’s Talk about Sex (and Gender and Sexuality)”, is on how to restructure the classroom around ideas of being “genderfluid, transgender, or gender nonconforming.” Another, on “Tolerance, Diversity, and Assessment” will focus on how to use administrative coercion to enforce various group identity agendas.

The third, called “Taking Advantage of Diversity,” will help scholars to understand why their quaint notions of cutting edge knowledge are merely expressions of white identity. Another, “Teaching Trump”, is composed of left-wing feminist scholars. Final score for political science education at this year’s APSA conference: left-wing approaches to diversity and difference: 4; conservative or classical liberal approaches: 0.

The Holy Trinity of Leftist Grievance

For good measure, I looked at the entire conference program to see whether the preponderance of panels on left-wing approaches to diversity in the teaching and education sections was to balance a lack of them elsewhere. I searched for panels on the holy trinity of identity politics: sexism/feminism, racism/white privilege, and sexual orientation/homo/transphobia. My best guess is that conference attendees will have a choice of 104 panels on these topics, in addition to the 4 in the teaching and learning sections. Just for laughs, I searched for panels on political, ideological, or viewpoint diversity. None.

There are, of course, special sections controlled by conservative or classical liberal groups at the APSA conference. But as for the sections that are open to all submissions, they essentially fall into two groups: strictly empirical work or normatively left-wing ideas. Am I the only one scratching my head?

I have worked with political scientists of an overwhelmingly left-wing bent for all of my career, so I know that there is nothing nefarious in this. Indeed, this is a key finding of  Dunn’s Passing on the Right. Sometimes, conservative commentators on the academy write as if there is a vast conspiracy operating on campus. There is not. Most of my left-wing colleagues in political science are reasonable and rational people who are aware of the importance of bringing a variety of political viewpoints into the classroom. When I asked the section organizer why our panel was rejected, she genuinely seemed not to remember – not indicative of an intentional censoring of non-left-wing issues – and added: “I agree it’s an important topic.”

So why the lack of balance? Despite the lip-service to the importance of viewpoint diversity, asking an APSA organizer committed to the advance of left-wing viewpoints to take one for the right is like asking a glutton to forego ice cream. There are no practical means to translate theory into practice. The eyes roll tiredly over proposals concerning viewpoint diversity but perk up excitedly at the sight of one, to cite another of the offerings at this year’s conference, “Disavowing Violence: Imperial Entitlements, From Burke to Trump (Fuck That Guy).”

Looniest End of the Academy

Indeed, for the looniest end of the left-wing academy, even the theory is hostile to viewpoint diversity. They view the academy as a special zone of (left-wing) Truth that must be protected against (right-wing) Falsehoods of the real world. Genuine pluralism, from this vantage, is a cover for privilege and oppression. Why import such falsehoods into the charmed realm of truth they have carved out with taxpayer’s money? Or more to the point, why go through the pain, inconvenience, and potential disapprobation of importing falsehoods?  I do not think the teaching and education section leaders of this year APSA were of that sort. But the system is heavily stacked against even a brief effort in the direction of idea pluralism. Why stick your neck out to accept a panel on political diversity at a political science conference when, to cite another of this year’s offerings, one can win kudos for accepting a panel entitled: “Pussies Grab Back: Feminism in the Wake of Trump”?

Much has been written about the general problem of a lack of political diversity in political science and its drift to the far left. The ratio of Democratic/left-of-center to Republican/right-of-center professors in political science is variously estimated at around 15 to 1 nationwide, not counting moderates and centrist independents. In my home state of Oregon, I believe the ratio is infinitely large because I do not know of a single Republican or conservative in our profession here (I am a swing voter and independent). APSA is not only indicative of this worsening problem but, and here is the issue, a key cause of it and thus, potentially, a fulcrum point for change.

It was not always this way. APSA was founded in 1903 to defend the ideal of impartial empirical inquiry. It’s constitution still declares that “the Association as such is nonpartisan. It will not support political parties or candidates. It will not commit its members on questions of public policy nor take positions not immediately concerned with its direct purpose” of academic inquiry. For years, it upheld those ideals. Remarkably, APSA and political science more generally survived the onslaught of illiberal radicalism, political correctness, and censorship of the 1960s, as John Gunnell of SUNY-Albany wrote in the association’s main journal in 2006. APSA presidents well after that era included prominent conservatives like Samuel Huntington of Harvard (1986-7) and James Q. Wilson of UCLA (1991-2).

The real problems arose when the graduate students of the 1960s and 1970s became tenured faculty and APSA executives. While political science and APSA were able to withstand an assault on academic freedom and viewpoint diversity from illiberal students, they had no means to defend themselves when those illiberal students became the governors. From the 2000s, a string of such far-left scholars came into office as APSA presidents: they included old-left scholars of class and socialism like Theda Skocpol of Harvard (served in 2002-3), Margaret Levi of Washington (served in 2004-5), and Ira Katznelson of Columbia (served in 2005-6); and “new-left” scholars of racial and gender grievance such as Dianne Pinderhughes of Notre Dame (2007-8), Rodney Hero of Berkeley (2014-15), and Jennifer Hochschild of Harvard (2015-16). There is of course nothing wrong with a variety of positions being represented in the APSA presidency. However, there was never any countervailing tendency. The moderate leftists who took the helm between the growing frequency of radicals could do nothing more than steady the ship before the next gale of fanaticism.

Under this new post-2000 leadership, APSA turned from being a fairly pluralistic and professional-oriented body into a shock force for the latest thought liberations of the left. This has been evident most clearly in the bevy of special task forces that have been commissioned. One of these, on “Inequality and American Democracy” published in 2004, deserves special attention because it was the point where APSA lost its credibility. The report claimed to have uncovered “profound threats” to American democracy as a result of inequality, which was reinforced by social programs that served mainly old white conservatives; indeed that political scientists had reached a “consensus” that such a threat existed. Again, it was not the radical leftism per se but the growing suggestion that only radical viewpoints were welcome or even recognized in the discipline that rankled.

A Little Diversity? No Thanks

One political scientist, Robert Weissberg of the University of Illinois-Urbana, was allowed a dissenting voice in a symposium on the report. He called the report a “professional embarrassment” for its hysterical claims of what he called “an AARP coup d’état.” Putting aside the possibility that “overeager interns absconded with APSA letterhead,” Weissberg warned that professional political scientists who adopted an “overheated radical egalitarian tone” of the report were not just, in his view, getting it wrong on American democracy. The bigger problem was what it said about the state of APSA. The obliviousness of the report’s authors to what a conservative, classical liberal or centrist would see as its “embedded totalitarianism” might have been at least acknowledged if the 14-member task force had included one or two non-leftists. “A little diversity, so to speak, would have saved considerable embarrassment.”

Yet such diversity was, as it was becoming clear in 2004, precisely what was on the wane at APSA. The new generation of political science faculty and APSA leaders no longer saw their role not as engendering an appreciation and curiosity about the pluralism of the American body politic and its institutions (as well as those abroad). Instead, APSA had become a key citadel to storm and capture: “Transforming a discipline’s intellectual center of gravity is not rocket science once the administrative apparatus is secure,” Weissberg wrote.

Today, APSA has become barely distinguishable from the Democratic Party and its far-left wing. Its web page runs a constant stream of anti-Trump or anti-Republican news. This year, it issued a statement supporting the anti-Trump “March for Science” held in DC in April and another against the Executive Order on a temporary ban for travelers from several Middle Eastern countries. It also felt the need to issue a Letter to Members after the 2016 election (there was no letter issued after the 2012 or 2008 elections) saying the election had “cast into sharp relief an array of issues” for political scientists. I used to think that’s what elections were supposed to do.

Of course, for political scientists for whom every professional endeavor is a pitched battle for social justice waged against the dark forces of tradition and privilege, the takeover of APSA is just another point on the road to total victory. But, like Saigon when the Vietcong arrived, they may find that others have abandoned the city, leaving them with nothing but a Pyrrhic Victory.

The “boat people” fleeing APSA now include me. As it happened, this year’s APSA was on the theme of political legitimacy, one of my major research areas. I proposed a methods workshop on measuring legitimacy along with another scholar who, like me, has spent a lot of time on data and measurement issues. It was accepted, but alas is now canceled as I have chosen not to attend. I will continue to research, teach, and engage policy-makers about legitimacy, but not at APSA.

Maybe this does not matter. As Weissberg noted: “Transforming the profession into scholarly agitprop is lamentable, but hardly catastrophic in the grand scheme of things. At worst, intellectual corruption will render APSA publicly irrelevant.”

But for that shrinking pool of political scientists for whom a vibrant and pluralistic professional association still matters, it may be time for a reckoning. So here is my challenge: make “political and viewpoint diversity” the theme for a future APSA annual conference. Recognizing the problem is the first step on the road to recovery.

What Damore’s Memo Taught Google

James Damore, the author of the ten-page “anti-diversity manifesto” that got him fired from Google, is not likely to fade to the level of a remote trivia question. That’s because Damore, a 28-year-old engineer, former chess champion, and researcher in computational biology at both Harvard and Princeton, sharply focused evidence and argument that shook the “diversity” procedures of Google and the tech world.

Damore criticized Google’s “diversity” initiatives aimed at spurring the company’s recruitment of non-Asian minorities and women. The most important of his transgressions was suggesting that “at least some of the male-female disparity in tech could be attributed to biological differences.” Remember, Damore’s research specialization was computational biology. He wasn’t speaking, or memo-ing, out of misogynist ignorance.

That most controversial part of his memo garnered a response from Karen Panetta, Dean of Engineering at Tufts University. Panetta attributed Damore’s views not to his knowledge of the data but to his “education.” He had attended elite universities where “the majority of faculty were trained mostly by men.” And, “if you can’t break that cycle, it persists.” That cycle isn’t just a problem at those elite programs Damore attended, but everywhere STEM is taught. “It is a universal problem. It’s not just industry, you have to remember; it’s connected to higher education. That’s where it grows.”

Training scientists and engineers to focus on the analysis of data rather than social justice and implicit bias is clearly problematic.

Gender disparities in STEM classrooms aren’t the only thing keeping SJWs “a-woke” at night. According to Rebecca Hill, STEM is also too white. In “STEM has a Diversity Problem,” she blames racial disparities on textbooks with too many pictures of white scientists. And in “Why Black Students Struggle in STEM Subjects,” Ebony O. McGee says black students underperform in math and science classes because their energy is spent performing whiteness—“talking ultra-proper English and pretending to go on vacations.” The answer, to the problem, she says, is to “minimize the fragility factors affecting” black students.

Such are the wonders of critical race theory.

Reducing racial and gender disparities in STEM, however, may require some uncomfortable trade-offs.  For years critics have warned that colleges balance the diversity books on the backs of Asian students. Remedying the racial and gender disparities in STEM will likely require more of the same.

Such suspicion isn’t unfounded. Just four days before Damore’s memo hit the wire, the Justice Department announced an investigation into a lawsuit sixty-four Asian activist groups filed against Harvard University. The suit alleges that Harvard’s admissions process favored social aptitude over academics in order to give white and non-Asian minority students an edge over Asian applicants.

Elite colleges have been flagged for this chicanery before. As City Journal’s Mark Pulliam noted in “Affirmative Action Antics,” UCLA instituted its own update of the Harvard Jewish quotas when black enrollment nosedived after Proposition 209 abolished racial preferences in California. When students and alumni ordered the school to fix its “diversity problem,” UCLA, like Harvard, bolstered its holistic review process, which admissions officials use to admit applicants with less-than-stellar SAT scores and GPAs. In principle “holistic” review means taking the whole of the student’s life into account, not just his academic record. In practice, holistic review means putting Asian students in a hole and clamping a lid on it.

If Dean Panetta’s thoughts are representative of the view from the Ivy Tower, the diversity regime intends to dig that hole a little deeper for Asian STEM students.

But as we saw at Harvard and UCLA, white men aren’t going to be the category primarily affected by the progressive approach to admissions. Asian American students earn thirty percent (a plurality) of all STEM degrees while accounting for only seven percent of all enrolled college students. Reducing the Asian percentage of students in science and engineering is the only practical way to “diversify” these fields. And it will have the side “benefit” of lowering academic standards, which are currently maintained by the ferocious competition among highly qualified applicants.

Can elite colleges get away with tipping the scales against Asian students? Quite possibly. Elite colleges have long discriminated against disfavored ethnic groups under the guise of promoting “diversity.” That’s exactly how Harvard maintained its “Gentleman’s Agreement” to limit Jewish enrollment, and it is exactly how the post-Bakke “diversity” regime has operated.

Because Asian American students are less likely to have well-connected, donor-class-parents, admissions officers can deal with them in bad faith without fear of reprisal. It also doesn’t help that Asian Americans’ history isn’t a fixed part of our civic memory. This makes us take allegations of bias less seriously or ignore them unjustly. We saw this when The New York Times omitted allegations of Asian discrimination from the lead of an article reporting the Justice Department’s inquiry into bias complaints.

The investigation into Harvard’s admission practices is a fresh chance to force a public debate on the “Asian Quotas.” A move against STEM programs would be good news for critics hoping to make clear that progressive policies require racial injustice. Such an investigation may also encourage Asian American parents and students to pick up the banner of civil rights.

We can expect a purge of dissenting faculty members, at least those not protected by tenure when the Diversity Inquisition comes to STEM. We can also expect the continuing effort to jerry-rig search committees and future faculty appointments in the sciences for female and non-Asian minority candidates, as the University of California already does. (Consider UC’s “President’s Postdoctoral Fellowship Program,” which despite the name is really a way of forcing science departments to hire under-qualified minority candidates.)

Such actions will be explained away with the same doublespeak Google CEO Sundar Pichai used to justify James Damore’s dismissal.

On the other hand, the game isn’t over. Damore, we should remember, is a chess champion. It is not unthinkable that he will outplay Google CEO Sundar Pichai and the whole army of diversiphile pawns. His sacrifice has once again drawn attention to how intellectually shallow and factually unsupported the entire diversity rationale really is. Racial healing and gender equity will never be built on a foundation of misrepresentation and willful ignorance. It’s now up to policymakers and civil rights groups to focus their attention on people like Tuft’s Dean Panetta, who believes that independent thinking such as Damore’s can be nipped in the bud by appointing the right kinds of people to faculty positions in STEM.

Far too many people in the sciences have thought they were immune to this ideological assault. They believed, and may still believe, that science and engineering are too important to be compromised b appointments made on the basis of gender and race. The real significance of l’affair Damore is simple: stop kneeling to the God of Diversity, or you will be Damored.

Diversity Overreach at American University

American University’s pervasive left-wing political climate has not prevented nasty racial incidents, but it sure has facilitated official overreaction antithetical to academia. AU is rapidly moving further than many other colleges and universities to enshrine ideological indoctrination into the curriculum in the name of diversity and inclusion.

Racist Incidents on AU’s Campus

The campus witnessed two dramatic racist events during the past academic year. A white student threw a banana at an African-American student in her dorm room and scribbled obscene graffiti on her door’s whiteboard. Later, during final exams, someone hung nooses with bananas marked with racist messages, including one attacking the African-American sorority of the new student body president, at three separate locations on campus, and vicious white supremacist attacks on her followed.

Both incidents were widely and laudably condemned by students, faculty, and administration alike in a positive exercise of free speech. The student who perpetrated the invasion of another student’s room was caught and disciplined by the university. AU has enlisted the FBI’s assistance and vowed to catch and to punish the other guilty parties.

But as those who follow campus news well know, racist or sexist events rarely end with punishment or a return to normality. They often trigger cries of “systemic” racism or sexism, curable only by reform programs, usually mandatory, to reshape the attitudes of all students.

Required Indoctrination Courses

Framed as courses designed to help students “transitioning into their first year of college,” two courses to be taught by diversity staff—not regular faculty– will focus heavily on ideological indoctrination. The themes of AUx2 emphasize the correct viewpoints on marginalization and victimization:

This is a bare-bones outline of one course:

Theme 1: Getting to Know Our Social Identities & Key Concepts

  • Identity Grid: Exploring Our Social Identities
  • Class Agreement: Supporting Respectful and Productive Dialogue
  • Bias Discrimination and Racial Formation
  • White Privilege vs. White Disenfranchisement

Theme 2: Intersections of Social Identity: Race in America

  • Code Switch Video Game About Multiracial Identity
  • Manifest Destiny and Native American Touch Points Group Presentations
  • Slavery’s Realities & Resonance Through Poetry
  • Allyship, Abolition, and Early Women’s Movement
  • Immigration, Exclusion and Shifting Definitions
  • Letter to Civil Rights Leader
  • The Complexity of Contemporary Identities

Theme 3: Letter to a Former Stranger

  • Research the Life & Stories of a Former Stranger
  • Informal Reading of Letters

AUx1 also contains four full weeks on promoting “A Culture of Inclusion” with topics such as “Diversity, Bias, and Privilege.”

The allocation of university resources for these required courses is considerable. According to AU’s website, there are 19 instructors, all staff rather than faculty, as well as an even greater number of peer leaders. The administration has also expanded with the addition of a director and program coordinator, as well as seven full or part-time staff people to assist AUx.

Expanding Indoctrination into Regular Classes

The university is now in the process of converting AUx into regular classes and beyond. The Senior Director for the Center for Diversity & Inclusion (CDI) has suggested “Allowing students’ participation in the seven-week Intergroup Dialogue program to serve as an alternative to another assignment/project or extra credit. I look forward to hearing the administration’s explanation to parents who pay phenomenal sums to send their kids to AU when they find out that a student managed to get out of a math assignment to attend a discussion group.

The two Intergroup Dialogue topics for Fall 2017 are “Islamophobia” and “Black Issues & Experiences on and off Campus.” There are also three segregated dialogue groups, creatively named as “intragroup dialogue” open only to “those who identify within Black/African diasporic communities” on three topics: “Immigration & Nationality,” “Stay Woke: A Dialogue on the themes of ‘Get Out’,” and “Whiteness & Anti-racism.”

“Allyship” refers to the proper role for heterosexual whites—secondary, passive and supportive of leadership. In plain language, it means doing as you’re told.

My guess is that an African-American student who questioned affirmative action would not be deemed “woke” even in his segregated safe space. In the AUx classes themselves, one cannot help but wonder if repeated challenges to the official dogma on “white privilege” or “allyship” might not harm the student’s grade in these mandatory diversity courses.

Beyond promoting Intergroup Dialogues in place of academic work, the Center for Diversity & Inclusion also encourages faculty to “incorporate CDI programs into their syllabus” by “Inviting Rainbow Speakers Bureau to host a panel in your class” or “Requesting a workshop/training or Diversity Peer Educator session.”

Not a bad way to get out of grading and teaching if you can stomach the agitprop.

Faculty Reaction

Faculty reaction to the initial AUx proposal was somewhat muted. Arts and Sciences Dean Peter Starr co-chaired the committee in charge of it, and Provost Scott Bass pushed it heavily, so people were none too keen on futilely challenging the people who determine their salaries or become identified as an opponent of diversity.  Nevertheless, faculty feedback included complaints about AUx inculcating a political viewpoint.

Despite ritualized requests for feedback, Starr made clear that he was uninterested in more than cosmetic changes. Here is the official short summary of changes made to AUx:

“AU Experience I & II: Course content is being developed for an online platform by faculty members with expertise in each area. Both courses will blend academic content and discussion methods, much the way traditional courses do. AUx2, in particular, now focuses on inclusion, with the explicit goal of creating a community of learners. The staffing of discussion leaders for AUx is a complex concern involving other campus initiatives such as the Reinventing the Student Experience (RiSE) project, and will likely be solved outside of this proposal. That said, all discussion leaders for AUx1 & AUx2 will be highly credentialed and complete training in advance of leading these courses.”

The above is an impressive example of managing to write a whole paragraph saying nothing. The short summary sent to the Faculty Senate notes, however, that “In addition to focusing on psycho-social development, AUx1 will include attention to academic freedom and freedom of speech.” The sole class on free speech remains heavily outweighed by the far greater number spent indoctrinating students on white privilege, bias, and exclusion.

The Faculty Senate approved the changes to the general education curriculum, including the AU experience, unanimously—not really surprising, as the faculty contains many promoters of this approach and is normally cowed by the administration anyway.

Never Enough, so the Cycle Repeats

Ironically, albeit utterly unsurprisingly, these changes were deemed wholly insufficient by student protesters who berated the administration and faculty alike at an administration-organized public meeting and during a student takeover of a Faculty Senate meeting. The response of both faculty and administration has been to double down.

During the Faculty Senate takeover, one student complained about the response of a fellow student on Facebook that included a photo of a noose. Provost Scott Bass took down the name of the offending student. Others demanded the immediate firing of faculty for racist comments and expulsion of students for racist actions.

The Faculty Senate immediately adopted a resolution calling for a permanent university commission on discrimination with a mandate to create a “cutting edge model of campus inclusivity” as well as creating a related Faculty Senate committee, which was immediately constituted by four volunteers. Apparently, this is on top of the Faculty Senate Ad-Hoc Committee on Diversity & Inclusion.

Fortunately, the university shortly thereafter adjourned for summer break but one imagines that AU’s cultural revolution will continue as the Fall Semester proceeds and the AUx curriculum goes into full swing.

Charlottesville—One Poison, Two Bottles

Alt-Right, Alt-Left, “both sides,” white supremacists, Antifa, CEO resignations:  America is having a moment. Tempers are flaring, and statues are falling. President Trump and the press are in an angry stand-off.

The death of a young woman, Heather Heyer,  in the midst of protests and counter-protests in Charlottesville, Virginia, and the injuries to 19 others at the hands of a driver who used his car to plow other cars into a crowd, reminded some of us of another shocking burst of violence: the May 4, 1970 Kent State shootings, when members of the National Guard opened fire on unarmed students, killing four. Protests against the Vietnam War, some of them violent, were a familiar part of the news during those years, but the wanton killing of protesters was new, and it changed things.

I don’t know that Heather Heyer’s death, apparently at the hands of a 20-year-old neo-Nazi, James Alex Fields, Jr., will have the long reverberations of Kent State, but the mainstream press is trying very hard to give the whole Charlottesville debacle that kind of watershed significance.

From the Cooper Union to Charlottesville

I’d like to pull back a little and consider some of the pieces, especially those that connect to higher education. The higher education connection isn’t incidental. Colleges and universities have often been the stages for those who seek to make large declarations about America, and especially about race.  Think of Lincoln’s Cooper Union speech in February 1860, in which he laid out his opposition to slavery as consonant with the ideals of the Founding Fathers.

The ghost of Lincoln is surely somewhere in the background of the Charlottesville riot. Richard Spencer and his white supremacist friends held their “Unite the Right” rally at Lee Park, on Saturday, August 12, ostensibly to protest the planned relocation of the large statue of Robert E. Lee. The struggle over slavery that led to the secession of eleven states, including Virginia, April 17, 1861, led to Lee’s fateful decision to turn down Lincoln’s offer of command of the Union Army in favor of serving the Confederacy. History has given Lee a generally kind assessment despite that decision. The esteem in which he is held by many who have no sympathy with the Southern cause rests on the way he met defeat. He spared the United States from what could have been decades of further hostility by counseling his supporters to lay down their arms.

What does a nation do with a figure of great historical importance who lent his weight to a bad cause? We are still, all these years later, wrestling with that question. It deserves a patient and thoughtful answer, but it has become entangled with demagoguery on both the right and the left.

The statue of Lee in Charlottesville was first seized as a symbol by the identitarian left, who made it an emblem of racial oppression. Spencer and his Alt-Right supporters then charged in, happy to endorse the conceit that Lee should stand for white privilege. The planned “Unite the Right” rally was meant to inflame the left and to summon counter-protesters. Violence was expected and welcomed on both sides—though to say that now invites the silly accusation that the term grants “moral equivalence.” No, it just registers the reality: both sides in this confrontation believe violence is a legitimate tool in pursuing their political ends.


On Friday night the Alt-Right protesters staged a torch-lit march on campus from the steps of the Rotunda across Thomas Jefferson’s “Academical Village,” the very center of the university. UVA president Teresa Sullivan understood the connections and put out a statement through the university’s newsletter, UVA Today, “In Aftermath of Violence, Sullivan Reflects On Challenging Weekend.”

In part, Sullivan said: “The University is about freedom of speech, but free speech is not the same as violence. We strongly condemn this kind of abhorrent and intimidating behavior whose purpose is only to create fear and cause divisions in the community.”

Indeed, free speech is not the same as violence, and my colleagues and I at the National Association of Scholars applaud the spirit of Sullivan’s statement.

How Higher Ed Contributed

The provocations of the Alt-Right protesters and the tragic consequences of their Saturday rally, however, cannot be wholly isolated from the stream of events in American higher education in the last few years. The Alt-Right didn’t spring out of thin air. Moreover, the use of mass intimidation wasn’t unknown on college campuses—including UVA. The deterioration of the ideal of free speech has been accelerating, and the feebleness of college authorities, when confronted with outrageous tactics by protesters, is now practically established as standard operating procedure.

UVA didn’t invite this compound catastrophe, but it wasn’t entirely an innocent on-looker either.

Charlottesville’s City Council voted 3-2 in February to move the equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee from the city’s central square. The Council’s vote followed a report last year from a Blue Ribbon Commission on Race, Memorials and Public Spaces. Voices of the UVA community played a significant part in the acrimonious debate over the statue. For example, the Richmond Times-Dispatch quoted UVA Religious Studies professor Jalane Schmidt, comparing President Trump’s refugee policy to defenders of the Lee statue as evidence of an “empathy gap.” The monument, in Schmidt’s view, “enshrined” in Charlottesville “leading white citizens’ contempt for black humanity.”

Schmidt’s opinions in this matter voice what has become a very familiar line of historical interpretation, one shared with a fair number of people in the UVA community. But for the sake of clarity, I’ll stick with Schmidt’s views in particular. Was putting a statue of Robert E. Lee in a public park really an act of “contempt for black humanity?” I suspect that an examination of the records of Charlottesville from 1919 to 1924 would not offer much evidence that a public display of “contempt” was part of the motive. A commodities trader named Paul McIntire commissioned the statue in 1917 from sculptor Henry Shrady, who died before finishing it. The job was completed by Leo Lentelli. McIntire purchased the site for Lee Park and donated the monument to both the City of Charlottesville and the University of Virginia.

History Lesson

Shrady was picked for the commission after America’s most eminent sculptor, Daniel Chester French, declined it but recommended Shrady, who was completing the massive monument to Grant in Washington, D.C. and had previously executed the equestrian statue of George Washington in Brooklyn.  Shrady’s successor on the Lee statue, Leo Lentelli, was born in Italy in 1879 and immigrated to the U.S. in 1903. Lentelli had numerous other public commissions including decorations for the San Francisco Public Library, the Sixteenth Street Bridge in Pittsburgh, and the Steinway Piano Building in New York City. He is best known for “The Savior with Sixteen Angels” at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York.

All these are details I’ve culled from a 1997 application to the National Register of Historic Places to register the Lee monument. It makes for interesting reading, not least because twenty years ago the thought that the Lee monument was an instrument of racial oppression seemed completely absent from anyone’s mind. Shrady, a native of New York who spent 19 years creating a monument honoring Ulysses S. Grant, and Lentelli, a twentieth-century immigrant from Italy who liked to sculpt angels, seem unlikely to have harbored nostalgia for the antebellum South or animus against “black humanity.”

Paul McIntire, the philanthropist who started out as a coffee trader, was a lover of art and music who lavished gifts on the University of Virginia, which he had attended for a single semester. He endowed a chair in fine arts and contributed the funds to create a Department of Music and Department of Art.  These acts, of course, do not preclude his being a closet racist who wanted a statue of Robert E. Lee to cast a shadow of contempt over the black residents of Charlottesville—but it is hard to see any evidence of that. When Professor Jalene Schmidt leveled that accusation against Charlottesville’s “leading white citizens,” she must have been thinking of someone else. Or was she making a wild surmise based on nothing but the projection of today’s intensified racial resentments onto the past?

Racial Reductionism

It is a tricky question to ask because those with a mind to do so can easily read into it a denial of the legal regime of racial discrimination of the Jim Crow South and the broader culture of racism. Recognizing the history of American racism without succumbing to the temptation to read racism into the fabric of everything seems to be a challenge for many Americans today. It is especially a challenge for many academics who are drawn to a kind of racial reductionism.

Who are these racial reductionists? Some of them are the self-styled denizens of the Alt-Right. And some are supporters of Black Lives Matter and kindred groups. For an extreme racial reductionist, think of Ta-Nehisi Coates, whose best-selling book, Between the World and Me, is a primer in how to blame white racism for anything and everything that a black American might find dissatisfying in life.

In Charlottesville last Saturday, we saw the collision of partisans of these two forms of reductionism.  There may well have been individuals among the protesters who held more complicated and historically nuanced views of America, but they were not driving the Alt-Right provocateurs or the counter-protesters, both of whom were in the grip of their oppositional manias. Racial reductionists are not necessarily violent and not necessarily apologists for violence. But both sides clearly have attracted thuggish followers. Antifa protesters carrying baseball bats and two-by-fours are not showing up to celebrate the legacy of Gandhi.

The Alt-Right is, to be sure, a pernicious reactionary movement. It has a tiny national following—perhaps not much more than a few thousand. Only a few hundred showed up in Charlottesville. But the movement has achieved massive news coverage by its theatrics and the eagerness of the media to play it up as a supposed reflection of President Trump’s base of support. The counter-protesters are also a pernicious reactionary movement who have seized a poisonous sideshow as somehow exemplifying part of the American mainstream.

The Poison Is Spreading

The Wall Street Journal has commendably called out the “deeper ailment” as “The Poison of Identity Politics.”

That poison is spreading. Spencer’s group plans rallies at Texas A&M and the University of Florida. But the leftist version of the poison has entered the bloodstream of American higher education and is to be found almost everywhere. Mark Lilla’s recent Wall Street Journal op-ed “The Liberal Crack-Up” is an excellent historical account of how the Democratic Party trapped itself in obsessions over grievance-based accounts of personal identity. What was lost, says Lilla, was “the hard and unglamorous task of persuading people very different from themselves to join a common effort.”

Protesting and counter-protesting are seldom tactics aimed at “persuading” anyone. They are aimed at displaying to a larger audience of supposed on-lookers the power of the protesters. It is the power to bring excited people together to shout and to act in unison, to threaten violence, and at times to commit it. The campus left has been very busy at enacting these kinds of theatrics over the last several years at Mizzou, Yale, Berkeley, Middlebury, Claremont McKenna, and Evergreen, to mention only the most prominent examples.

Which brings me back to the University of Virginia, which was a pioneer of sorts in the invention of the insta-riot as a form of political communication. On November 20, 2014, not long after Rolling Stone published its false story about a rape at the UVA Phi Kappa Psi fraternity house, five masked women and two men vandalized the building. This followed vociferous protests culminating in a “Take Back the Party: End Rape Now” rally, which drew hundreds of participants. President Sullivan then suspended all the fraternities until January 9, 2015. An imaginary crime elevated to an ardent belief turned UVA into a place where the victim mythology triumphed over any concern for the truth.

Surely that wasn’t lost on Richard Spencer when he went in search of a venue that would be susceptible to his provocations.

Jefferson’s University

Thus it may be worth taking a further look at what Sullivan said after this weekend’s tragic turn of events: “The University is about freedom of speech, but free speech is not the same as violence. We strongly condemn this kind of abhorrent and intimidating behavior whose purpose is only to create fear and cause divisions in the community.”

“The University is about freedom of speech” might sound right on first hearing, but it is not how Jefferson would have put it. Freedom of speech is a means to an end, but not the purpose of the university.  What is? Jefferson explains:

To form the statesmen, legislators and judges, on whom public prosperity and individual happiness are so much to depend; To expound the principles and structure of government, …and a sound spirit of legislation, which…shall leave us free to do whatever does not violate the equal rights of another; to harmonize and promote the interests of agriculture, manufactures and commerce…; to develop the reasoning faculties of our youth, enlarge their minds, cultivate their morals, and instill into them the precepts of virtue and order; to enlighten them with mathematical and physical sciences, which advance the arts and administer to the health, the subsistence and comforts of human life; and, generally, to form them to habits of reflection and correct action, rendering them examples of virtue to others and of happiness within themselves. These are the objects of that higher grade of education, the benefits and blessings of which the Legislature now propose to provide for the good and ornament of their country.

To accomplish these goals, freedom of speech is an important tool. Those who pick up the tool only to employ it as a club to beat others are, however, outside the bounds of the “academical” community.  Sullivan hasn’t been an especially good steward of that principle. Her condemning the Alt-Right for “abhorrent and intimidating behavior whose purpose is only to create fear and cause divisions in the community” is all to the good. But it would be helpful if she showed some glimmer of understanding that these nasty (and sometimes murderous) extremists are the mirror image of other nasty (and often violent) extremists on the other side.

A university is properly a place where there is no place for those who disdain the rule of law, the dictates of civility, and the need for peaceful argument. Inviting identity politics to take root and then complaining that the vine is bearing its predictable fruit is a failure of presidential leadership. And that’s true of all kinds of presidents.

Why Brilliant Girls Tend to Favor Non-STEM Careers

Do girls avoid STEM (science, technology, engineering, math) fields because of ongoing, widespread discrimination? Or do girls with the skill sets that would give them entrance to STEM fields prefer fields that involve working with people over fields that involve working with things?

(A note on the correct use of language. Women are justifiably offended when people, especially a man, refers to them as “girls.” I do not do that in this essay. The title of this essay is based on the fact that, as described below, it is skills and interests that develop as girls that lead girls who only later become adult women down different paths that contribute to adult women being less likely to work in STEM).

The go-to explanation for the gender gap in STEM is bias.  Old fashioned sexism, “implicit” (or unconscious) sexism, “obstacles,” stereotypes, and the like.

There are many problems with such explanations, including but not restricted to:

  1. Much of the “evidence” cited in support of discrimination does not actually demonstrate discrimination.  For example, some gender gaps in funding and in graduate admissions have been conclusively shown to result, not from discrimination, but from the fact that women disproportionately apply in more competitive fields.
  2. Some of the “evidence” is correlational (e.g., correlating beliefs with some gap), and is interpreted as causal, without any evidence of causality.
  3. Those making “gaps (do, probably do, likely do) reflect discrimination occurring right now” arguments rarely consider the vast literature identifying alternative explanations for such gaps.  Instead, they tell “compelling narratives” based on historical evidence of discrimination, anecdotes, and cherry-picked studies that actually do demonstrate bias, and they argue (or imply by omission) that those, and only those, studies apply to understanding the gap in question (as if large bodies of literature contesting either the generalizability or even validity of those studies, or putting forward strong evidence for alternative explanations, simply do not exist).

The purpose of this blog entry is not to evaluate whether discrimination against women and girls “exists,” because it surely does under some conditions and in some contexts.  Instead, the purpose is to explore two questions: Is it possible that something other than discrimination is the main source of gender gaps in STEM? And is it possible that scientists cherry-pick evidence to support narratives of bias?

Gender Differences in Interests

Things versus people.  Su et al (2009) performed a meta-analysis of studies including a total of over 500,000 people examining gender differences in interests.  Despite claims that gender differences are typically “small” (Hyde, 2005), Su et al found a gigantic gender difference in interests.  Women preferred working with people, whereas men preferred working with things, a preference that is detectable within the first two days of birth and among our close species relatives, rhesus monkeys!  To be sure, these differences were not absolute.  Not every man prefers working with things and not every woman prefers working with people.  But the effect size was d= .93, and even if you are not familiar with effect sizes, this would make it one of the largest effects in social psychology; it is gigantic.

JUST math skills versus math and verbal skills.  This same issue of differing interests was approached in a different way by Wang, Eccles, and Kenny (2013). Disclosure: Eccles was my dissertation advisor and long-term collaborator; I am pretty sure she identifies as a feminist, has long been committed to combating barriers to women, and is one of the most objective, balanced social scientists I have ever had the pleasure to know.

In a national study of over 1,000 high school students, they found that:

  1. 70 percent more girls than boys had strong math and verbal skills;
  2. Boys were more than twice as likely as girls to have strong math skills but not strong verbal skills;
  3. People (regardless of whether they were male or female) who had only strong math skills as students were more likely to be working in STEM fields at age 33 than were other students;
  4. People (regardless of whether they were male or female) with strong math and verbal skills as students were less likely to be working in STEM fields at age 33 than were those with only strong math skills.

Here are their conclusions, in their own words:

“Results revealed that mathematically capable individuals who also had high verbal skills were less likely to pursue STEM careers than were individuals who had high math skills but moderate verbal skills. One notable finding was that the group with high math and high verbal ability included more females than males…

Our study provides evidence that it is not lack of ability that causes females to pursue non-STEM careers, but rather the greater likelihood that females with high math ability also have high verbal ability and thus can consider a wider range of occupations than their male peers with high math ability, who are more likely to have moderate verbal ability.”

To be clear, neither Wang et al nor I am arguing this is the only reason for the gap in STEM; and neither Wang et al nor I have argued that there are no biases against girls and women. Nonetheless, it is also worth noting that the words “bias,” “discrimination,” and “obstacle(s)” do not appear anywhere in their article.  “Sexism” also appears nowhere in their text, though it does appear in one of their references.

The Numbers

The Council of Graduate Schools puts out regular reports, such as this one, that includes the gender distribution in various fields.

Lo and behold, there is no “pervasive evidence of” a gender gap in graduate enrollments, though there is a gap in some STEM fields. Completely consistent with the work by Su et al and by Wang et al, in nearly all fields that are about people, not only is there no gap disadvantaging women, there are actually more women than men! (Healtheducation, social and behavioral sciences, public administration, arts and humanities, and even biological sciences).  The same report found that, overall, across all fields, the “gap” is in the “wrong” direction: 57 percent of enrollees in graduate programs are women.

Even if there is discrimination against women in these fields, it is not preventing women from entering those fields in droves. (Indeed, the logic of “gap = discrimination”—a logic I have repeatedly rejected but which runs rampant throughout the social sciences and general public—would have us believe there is widespread discrimination against men in most fields now).

Furthermore, this pattern is completely consistent with the idea that girls and women have different interests (Su et al) and skills (Wang et al) that lead them to prefer non-STEM careers.

There Is Bias!

Surely girls and women have, historically, been discriminated against in such fields.  But discrimination in 1950 or 1970 does not constitute evidence of ongoing discrimination.  Furthermore, the evidence that girls and women prefer non-STEM fields is not an argument to avoid combating sexist discrimination where it can still be found.  Nonetheless, the list of social science victim2 groups is so long, that, most likely, almost all of us have been the target of discrimination or hostility at some point in our lives, rendering the question of whether some groups are more victimized than others muddier than it seems.

However equivocal the evidence for “bias” in the present may be an explanation for the gender gap in STEM fields, there is ample evidence of bias. Scientific bias! Social scientists clearly “prefer” bias explanations over other, deeply important, scientifically rigorous, social developmental evidence, such as that offered by Su et al and Wang et al.  This table reveals just how extreme this bias is:

The key entry here is the citation counts in the far right.  The Moss-Racusin study is, by conventional standards, the weakest of the studies.  Its sample size is a fraction of that of the others.  It studies a relatively minor situation (hiring lab managers).  It was a single study (Su et al is a meta-analysis of scores of studies; Williams and Ceci reported five separate studies).  In contrast to Wang et al, it only studied an event at a single time point; it did not follow people’s career trajectories.

This does not make Moss-Racusin et al a “bad” study; it is merely weaker on virtually all important scientific grounds than the others.  This is not to argue that the other studies are “perfect,” either; all studies have imperfections.  But by conventional scientific standards, Su et al’s meta-analysis, the replications in Williams and Ceci, the longitudinal Wang et al study, and the far larger sample sizes in all three mean that, on most scientific methodological standards, they are superior to the Moss-Racusin et al study.

And yet, look at the citation counts.  Others are citing the Moss-Racusin et al study out the wazoo. Now, Wang et al and Williams and Ceci came out later, so probably the most useful column is the last.  Since 2015, the weaker Moss-Racusin study has been cited 50% more often than the other three combined!  That means there are probably more papers citing the Moss-Racusin et al study and completely ignoring the other three than there are papers citing even one of the other three! What kind of “science” are we, that so many “scientists” can get away with so systematically ignoring relevant data in our scientific journals?

(Again, this does not make the Moss-Racusin study “bad.” The bias here reflects a far broader field problem, it does not constitute a weakness in the paper itself).

And that, gentle reader, is a gigantic scientific bias.  It might even be beyond bias. Some might call it an “obsession” with discrimination and bias so severe that it is blinding many in our field to major findings regarding gender differences that contribute to preferences for different types of fields.

If this analysis has any validity, the societal push to equalize gender distributions may be deeply dysfunctional, because it can succeed only by having the perverse effect of pushing people into fields they do not prefer. Of course, on moral grounds, we want to ensure that all people have equal opportunities to enter any particular career.  But if there are bona fide gender differences in preferences and interests, equal opportunities may never translate into equal outcomes.

Reprinted from Psychology Today, courtesy of Lee Jussim.

A White Sociologist and the Doctrine of the Black Insider

More than forty years ago, sociologist Robert Merton called attention to an emerging “Black Insider Doctrine” within sociology, the viewing of white sociologists as “outsiders,” incapable of understanding or conducting research on matters concerning blacks. Groups in conflict in 1972 wanted to make their own interpretation of reality the prevailing one. Over the years, as blacks began to participate fully in social institutions—including in the social sciences—attitudes changed as discrimination lessened and counter-ethnocentrism diminished.

But, did it? It is possible that the Doctrine of the Black Insider was always there just under the surface—only to reappear stronger than ever at places like Pomona College where last Spring, 128 (anonymous) “students, alumni and allies” of the Sociology Department published an open letter to the Pomona administration charging that hiring white sociologists who engage in “voyeuristic” research on the Black community can no longer be allowed.

Related: Can Sociology Be Saved?

The Pomona letter protested the scheduled arrival this fall of the white female sociologist, Alice Goffman, as a Visiting Professor in the Sociology Department. Goffman, who studies the impact of mass incarceration and policing in black communities, was hired over two black female applicants for the position. She is the granddaughter of Erving Goffman, one of the most influential sociologists of the 20th century. The letter writers are demanding the job offer to Goffman be rescinded—and given to one of the two black female sociologists who were finalists for the open faculty position. Claiming that “hiring white faculty who engage in voyeuristic, unethical research and who are not mindful of their positionality as outsiders to the communities they study, reinforces harmful narratives about people of color.”

Part of the reason for the angry response had to do with the controversial research methods Goffman employed for gathering the data for her book, On the Run: Fugitive Life in an American City—an ethnographic study in a poor black community in West Philadelphia. The book chronicles a six-year account of the lives, challenges, and most notably the continual interactions with police by those she called the “6th Street Boys.” Goffman rented an apartment and lived for several years in the poor predominantly black Philadelphia neighborhood. Becoming friends with the young men, Goffman allowed several of her research subjects to live with her in her apartment. Her sympathies were clearly with those in the community—as she attempted to expose what she called the “hidden practices of policing and surveillance” in the West Philadelphia community.

Cleared of Wrongdoing

While there were questions about her data collection methods, investigations by the American Sociological Association, and the University of Wisconsin, Madison—her current home institution—have cleared her of any wrongdoing in her research. But that has not stopped her Pomona critics from viewing her as an outsider who has “profited” by exploiting the Black community.

Demanding that Pomona rescind the offer of employment to Professor Goffman, the unidentified letter writers claim that the hire “boasts the framework that white women can theorize about and profit from black lives while giving no room for black academics to claim scholarship regarding their own lived experiences.”  The aggrieved group has decried the fact that Goffman was hired over two black finalists for the position—both of whom presented academic papers on “Intersectionality,” a concept that describes overlapping or intersecting social identities of race, class and gender—pointing to the systems of oppression, domination or discrimination.

Goffman’s arrival on the Pomona campus will surely cause even more divisions. In this, Pomona simply reflects a growing national polarization. In fact, last year’s national freshman class has the distinction of being “the most polarized cohort” in the 51-year history of UCLA’s Freshman Survey, the largest and longest running survey of American college students. Survey data collected from 137,456 first time, full-time students who entered 184 U. S. colleges and universities in the fall of 2016 revealed an all-time high of 41% of women who self-identify as “liberal or far left” with respect to political views. This is compared to only 28.9% of men—yielding the largest gender gap in self-reported liberalism to date.

Stormy Times for Campuses

The polarization is already being played out on many campuses—especially once race is factored into the equation. Even The New York Times has noticed the “stormy times” predicted for college campuses. Reporting on the consortium of Claremont colleges where angry disputes over identity politics and cultural appropriation have drawn national attention, the Times reported that even campuses that had “prided themselves on increased diversity in admissions are now wrestling with students who want more control over the institutions they attend.”

Last spring, a group of self-described “angry and annoyed” Latina students took over a dormitory wall devoted to free speech at Pitzer College (like Pomona, a member of the Claremont group). They wrote the message, “White Girl, Take Off Your Hoop Earrings!” to protest the appropriation of fashion “that belongs to the black and brown folks who created the culture…a culture that comes from a historical background of oppression and exclusion.”

Whether most white Pitzer College students will remove their gold hoops remains to be seen. For Merton, the critical measure of the success of counter-ethnocentrism occurs when the interpretation moves beyond the boundaries of the in-group to be embraced by outsiders. At the extreme, the converted outsider, validating himself as sensitive and understanding becomes even more zealous than the Insiders in adhering to the doctrine of the group with which he wants to identify.

As Merton says, “He then becomes more royalist than the king, more papist than the pope.” More black than those in the black community. Some white sociologists, so guilt-ridden after centuries of white racism, are prepared to identify so strongly with the black community that they begin to see racism where others do not see it—outdoing the claims of the group they would symbolically join—ready to surrender their hard-won expert knowledge if the Insider doctrine seems to require it.

As a converted outsider, Alice Goffman appears to see racism everywhere. In a long essay titled “The Trials of Alice Goffman,” for The New York Times, a reporter noted that “In Madison, we were picked up between appointments by an Uber driver in blue scrubs…Goffman turned to the driver, who was black, to ask—in the offhand way you might ask an Uber driver about his experiences with the company—What have your local experiences with racism been like?” Goffman told the Times reporter that at the airport security gates that morning, she “tried to exchange a look of solidarity” with a young man with brown skin who was being stopped by TSA agents but “he wouldn’t look at me.”

Pomona sociology students will have in Alice Goffman someone with great empathy for the black experience. She is someone who understands the black community as well as any ethnomethodologist could ever understand it. Having lived and loved the people living in the West Philadelphia community, Goffman knows what day-to-day life is like for those who live there. She never pretended to be a dispassionate social observer, and her allegiance is certainly to the community—not to the police.

But, it likely won’t be enough for those who continue to affirm the universal saliency of the ascribed status of race. For them, Alice Goffman is “inauthentic,” simply because she is white—writing in their anonymous protest letter that “Students need authentic mentors. The hiring of Alice Goffman has already, and will continue to discourage students of color, and especially women of color from entering the Sociology Department and academia for years to come.”

As our society becomes ever more polarized, so do contending claims to truth. The attacks on the intentions and the integrity of a young, idealistic sociologist like Alice Goffman do nothing but exacerbate collective insecurities—increasing mistrust and misunderstandings. Eventually, the Doctrine of the Black Insider will again diminish. But, in the meantime, college campuses need to prepare for some difficult days ahead.

Yes, Campus Indoctrination is Real

Robert Maranto and Mathew Woessner are not alone.  They are two political scientists who assure us that leftist domination of the faculty does not mean that college students are coming away from their campuses indoctrinated in progressive ideology.  Maranto and Woessner’s latest version of this argument was published in The Chronicle of Higher Education as “Why Conservative Fears of Campus Indoctrination Are Overblown.

Their basic point is that students are “not ideologically pliable.”  Their evidence for that comes from survey research that show “relatively minor” shifts in student political attitudes over four years, with “the typical student” becoming “slightly more progressive on social issues while becoming slightly more conservative on economic issues.”

I don’t doubt the integrity of their research or that of other social scientists who have gone looking for measurable evidence of such changes in student attitudes.  In fact, for several decades social scientists have been looking at this question and for the most part coming up with answers similar to that of Maranto and Woessner.

But they, like many others, are profoundly mistaken. Their conclusions follow their research, but that research inevitably focuses on certain kinds of data, which unfortunately do not get to the heart of the problem.

In their Chronicle article, Maranto and Woessner reference The Still Divided Academy, a book published in 2011, which includes an analysis of “Students’ Political Values” based on the 1999 North American Academic Study Survey (NAASS).  That eighteen-year-old data means something, but does it mean that today’s college students are barely touched by the forces of campus indoctrination?

Related: How a University Moved from Diversity to Indoctrination

In the 1999 survey, 45 percent of college students said they did not believe homosexuality is “an acceptable lifestyle.”  The survey did, however, pick up a shift of seven percentage points in favor of acceptance of homosexuality by the senior year:  a shift the authors interpreted as the students moving towards the views of their professors and administrators.  The NAASS study has not been repeated, but we do have the annual survey conducted by the Higher Education Research Institute (HERI)at UCLA, which includes some relevant data. The HERI survey of college freshmen in 2015, for example, found 81.1 percent of freshmen at all baccalaureate institutions endorsed gay marriage.

That dramatic shift, from 45 percent opposed to homosexuality “as a lifestyle” to more than 80 percent favoring gay marriage, tells us nothing about whether colleges indoctrinate students.  These were freshmen surveyed in 2015—mostly innocent about their professors’ attitudes.  But the shift testifies to the need for caution in relying on 1999 figures to decipher today’s trends.  It also testifies to the astonishingly rapid transformation of American youth during this period.

We don’t have very good grounds for thinking that college students today respond to the social and political cues of campus life in the way they did a generation ago.  In fact, the opposite.  The most recent HERI data from fall 2016 found “the fall 2016 entering cohort —  of first-time, full-time college students — has the distinction of being the most polarized in the 51-year history of the Freshman Survey.”  The year before, the HERI surveyors found that a third of the freshmen (33.5 percent) self-identified as liberal or “far left”—the highest percentage since 1973, the height of the Watergate scandal.

Related: Indoctrination in Writing Class

Anyone who has taught freshmen knows that their self-labeling is not necessarily the best indication of their political orientation.  The 2015 HERI data yielded some other clues about the leftward orientation of these freshmen.  A record 8.5 percent of these students said there was a very good chance they would participate in “student protests while in college,” i.e. they were ready to protest before they could possibly have any cause to do so.

HERI also found a record number (74.6 percent) of freshmen who said that “helping others in difficulty” was very important or essential to them.  An orientation towards helping others sounds very good in the abstract, but that figure might also signal the degree to which activism aimed at advancing progressive ideas of “social justice” had become a baseline social attitude for late Millennials entering college.

The HERI data is full of other material that suggests that today’s entering college students bring with them dramatically different attitudes than the freshmen of yesteryear.  Anyone interested in the sociology of college students will find it eye-opening.  But HERI doesn’t resolve the question of whether or how much four years of college education changes students’ political and social attitudes.

That question has actually been a research topic for many years, perhaps best codified by Ernest T. Pascarella and Patrick T. Terenzini in a series of massive volumes, How College Affects Students.  I have relied on Ernest T. Pascarella and Patrick T. Terenzini’s Volume 2:  A Third Decade of Research, published in 2005, but there is 2016 edition with new editors, How College Affects Students: 21st Century Evidence that Higher Education Works, Volume 3.  Pascarella and Terenzini, synthesizing the work of numerous other scholars, reach some interesting conclusions for students in the 1990s:

  • “Freshmen-to-senior year shifts in political identification were associated with the peer and faculty environments of the institutions attended.”
  • The shifts “were more than mere reflections of changes occurring in the larger society.”
  • The shifts were not simply “artifacts” of the attitudes students brought with them to college, and they couldn’t be explained as part of “normal, maturational processes.”

Related: An Update on the Mess at Bowdoin

As often happens when social science researchers roll up their sleeves and dig deep into a problem, these researchers discovered the obvious.  Of course, “peer and faculty environments” shape students.  If anyone continues to doubt that, I recommend What Does Bowdoin Teach?  How A Contemporary Liberal Arts College Shapes Students (2013), the top-to-bottom ethnography that my colleague Michael Toscano and I wrote about the “peer and faculty environment” at one of the nation’s top-rated liberal arts colleges.

What that study showed more than anything is that Bowdoin’s left-wing bias was all pervasive.  It wasn’t conveyed just by a few dozen hard-core leftist faculty members, though they did their part. It was embedded in the curriculum as a whole, residence life, extra-curricular activities, pronouncements from the college president, self-declared college crises, invited speakers, student awards, and more.  And just as important, that bias was made to seem normal by the absence or near absence of alternative views.  It doesn’t feel like “bias” if you are surrounded with people who all agree. The courses not offered, the professors not appointed, the speakers not invited, the student clubs that are not formed:  the nots are the real key to campus bias, especially because they are usually invisible to the students.

At one Bowdoin event, a student stood up and half-in-resentment, half-in-perplexity, challenged me:  “We have everything we could possibly want at Bowdoin.  What’s missing?”  He had absolutely no clue as to what ideas and opinions existed outside the “Bowdoin bubble.”

In such an environment, even those who call themselves dissenters tend to absorb the premises of the prevailing view.  They will quibble about details and typically fail to realize how much they have conformed to the campus Zeitgeist. At Bowdoin, we found “conservative” students who were wholly taken in by the premises of multiculturalism and diversity and perfectly supportive of efforts to muzzle free speech.

Rendering Much of the World Invisible

This is where Maranto and Woessner go most wrong.  “Indoctrination”—if that is the right word—is not mainly about the domination of academic fields by leftist professors.  That happens, and it is part of the problem.  But the larger problem is a campus culture that renders much of the world invisible.

That is not to say the college students today are blankly unaware that a great many Americans hold views at odds with their own.  They know Donald Trump was elected President and that many millions of Americans voted for him.  And progressive ideology provides a whole gallery of stock villains with which to picture the oppressors and those who are not yet “woke.”  The Alt-Right, the cis-gendered privileged, the one-percenters, and so on are the cartoons that take the place of any need to understand conservative ideas.

This doesn’t make every college student an incipient leftist.  Probably the most common political orientation among college students is a soft libertarianism that tolerates anything that doesn’t get in the way of the student’s preferred social activities.  These students have no fondness for the hard left radicals with their Bias Response Teams, Title IX tribunals, protests, and occupations, but neither do they have much interest in putting up a fight. The soft libertarians seldom give a thought about the longer-term consequences of the left’s initiatives, and they are entirely satisfied with the consumerist curriculum they have been offered.

To my way of thinking, this libertarian silent majority on campus has created the condition in which a radicalized minority can exert its tyranny. College administrators don’t worry about the leave-me-alone crowd.  But they are ever eager to placate Mattress Girl, Black Lives Matter, and the students who want to run Charles Murray into the Vermont forest.

So, pace Maranto and Woessner, no, conservative fears of campus indoctrination are not overblown. Sometimes conservatives over-simplify their case by focusing too much on the wild declarations of extremist professors or the exclusion of conservative faculty members.  But taken all in all, contemporary American higher education does indoctrinate students in progressive ideology.  And it does it so well that most of the graduates don’t even realize it.

CUNY’s Love Affair with Violent Radicals

The choice of Linda Sarsour, an Arab-American activist, as a commencement speaker at CUNY’s School of Public Health last Spring generated much-heated debate. Good. Speech and counter-speech shed welcome light on the views of controversial figures.

That Sarsour once advocated violence against a political opponent – stating that Ayaan Hirsi Ali needed an “ass-whipping” and didn’t deserve her vagina – raises questions about the value of Sarsour’s views, but not about the right of CUNY to choose anyone it wants to address its students. Indeed, CUNY’s choice of Sarsour illuminated CUNY’s odd infatuation with proponents of violence.

Served 16 Years

The Susan Rosenberg case provides one example. Rosenberg, a former member of the Weather Underground, served 16 years for explosives possession. She was also a suspect in the Brinks robbery, during which two policemen and a security guard were killed.  In 2002, following Rosenberg’s release from prison, CUNY’s John Jay College hired her as an adjunct professor.

After four semesters – and in the wake of objections by both the New York City and Rockland County chapters of the Police Emerald Society – CUNY did not renew her contract. In an attempt to get the decision reversed, the chair of the CUNY faculty senate published a letter in support of rehiring Rosenberg. She was not rehired, but that did not stop John Jay College from holding “a celebration of Susan Rosenberg” in 2011.

CUNY’s faculty senate chair was similarly sympathetic to another convicted felon, this time one of CUNY’s own. Mohamed Yousry, an adjunct lecturer at CUNY’s York College, was convicted in 2005 of providing material aid to terrorism and conspiring to deceive the government. Three days after Yousry’s 2006 sentencing on terrorism charges, the senate chair – in an apparent attempt to solicit a job for him – speculated in an email to a faculty senate chat room that Yousry might be looking for work as a teaching adjunct.

A Policeman Beaten

Yousry isn’t the only teacher at CUNY to engage in extreme behavior: three of the six people charged in the 2014 beating of policemen on the Brooklyn Bridge (Eric Linsker, Cindy Gorn, and Jarrod Shanahan) were teachers at CUNY. Of course, assaulting police officers pales in comparison to the crimes of Rosenberg and Yousry, but that act is consistent with the mindset that justifies violence in the service of political causes.

The actions of CUNY’s faculty union, the Professional Staff Congress (PSC) are particularly telling because they presumably reflect the sentiments of substantial numbers of faculty. (The leaders of the union, which represents roughly 19,000 faculty and staff, have repeatedly been re-elected since 2000.)

The PSC’s actions include:

  • Contributing $5,000 in 2000 to a committee dedicated to freeing Lori Berenson, an American who was convicted in Peru on terrorism charges.
  • Contributing to a defense fund in 2002 for Sami Al-Arian, who later pleaded guilty to contributing services to a terrorist organization.
  • Passing a resolution in 2007 calling for “freedom now for Mumia Abu-Jamal,” who was convicted in 1982 of the murder of a Philadelphia police officer. (Note that the union resolution calls for the immediate freedom of Abu-Jamal, not a retrial: those with a fixed world view don’t feel any need to support that view with evidence.)

15 Years for Aiding Al Qaeda

No one can say, based on existing information, whether the favorable attitude of CUNY faculty towards violent radicals affects the students. But the record of the following three CUNY graduates at least puts the question on the table. Farrooque Ahmed was sentenced in 2011 to 23 years in prison for his role in planning bombings in Washington D.C. Syed Hashmi was sentenced in 2010 to 15 years for attempting to supply military gear to Al Qaeda. Noelle Velentzas was arrested in 2015 for plotting to prepare an explosive device to be detonated in a jihadist-inspired terrorist attack in the United States. (Her trial is pending.) Is there another university that can boast such a record?

That CUNY faculty lean left is hardly surprising – that’s standard in the academic world. Leaning towards the violent left is, however, noteworthy. Let me be crystal clear. Although I believe education is best served by a politically diverse faculty body, I support the right of universities to hire and invite any speakers they want to address students. But I also believe in truth in advertising. The taxpayers who support CUNY and the parents who send their children to CUNY schools have a right to know about its faculty’s long record of support for violent radicals.

Here’s Why Public Colleges Could Face Defunding

Is America about to embark on the “mass defunding of public higher education”? Fredrik deBoer thinks it’s a real, horrifying possibility. In a Los Angeles Times op-ed and on his blog, he argues that the political basis for this defunding now exists.

The problem, according to the Pew Research Center, is that the list of truths self-evident to members of both political parties no longer includes the institutional value of higher education. On the question of whether colleges and universities have a positive or negative effect on the country, Pew found that Democrats had a favorable view of colleges by a wide margin, 72% to 19%, while Republicans had a negative view, 58% to 36%. Democrats’ support for higher education, always strong, has grown more pronounced since 2010. Only within the last year, however, have Republicans gone from favoring to opposing colleges and universities.

Identity-Politics Departments

This loss of bipartisan support constitutes a “crisis,” deBoer contends. Not only is America closely divided between two parties, but Republicans are especially powerful at the state level, where funding decisions about higher education are made. No, he doesn’t expect that the Republican governor and legislature of Wisconsin, for example, will shut down its flagship state university. But he does think that the Republican voters’ new consensus—higher education no longer merits deference or the benefit of the doubt—portends that states will start to close down identity-politics departments like Women’s Studies, and make taxpayer support contingent on enforcing “harsh restrictions on campus groups and how they can organize.”

DeBoer writes as an academic—he holds three degrees from three different public universities, and is Academic Assessment Manager at a fourth, Brooklyn College of the City University of New York—and as a leftist—another of his recent articles makes clear that he doesn’t want to regulate profit, but do away with it entirely.

Censoring Mainstream Views

Especially interesting, then, that he assigns a large share of the blame for public higher education’s crisis to the academic left. DeBoer “grew up believing that most professors live by” a “philosophy of non-coercion and intellectual pluralism.” The long list of recent incidents where campus activists have attempted to “censor completely mainstream views,” with the encouragement of some faculty and administrators and the acquiescence of others, has convinced him otherwise.

The professors and activists who used to insist that allegations of anti-conservative bias in academia were factually wrong, deBoer argues, have pivoted without pause or embarrassment to insisting that such anti-conservative bias is morally right. As a result, the “defenders of public universities” who “now mock the concept of public debate as a conservative shibboleth” have “created the conditions for the destruction” of these universities.

DeBoer’s opinion of this prospective destruction is particularly equivocal, which makes it particularly interesting. He certainly does not welcome the disaster he expects. The conservative movement incensed by campus radicalism “has one and only one remaining impulse,” he alleges, “which is to destroy its perceived enemies.”

Nevertheless, the victimhood studies associate professors and diversity office administrators will find the principal culprit for their coming unemployment in the mirror. There is, as the literary scholar John Erskine argued a century ago, a “moral obligation to be intelligent,” to “find out as far as possible whether a given action leads to a good or a bad end.” Accordingly, any system of ethics that excuses people from this duty is “vicious.” Erskine was restating the essence of Aristotle’s idea of prudence, practical wisdom, which called for pursuing moral outcomes by shrewdly assessing concrete situations.

Though he sympathizes with the campus activists’ social justice goals, deBoer also criticizes the willful blindness of educators who refuse to live in the world as it is. The fact that “public universities are chartered and funded as non-partisan institutions” makes the practical necessity to conciliate rather than anathematize one of the two major political parties into a moral imperative. Rather than confront this reality directly, however, the academic preference to strike poses of ironic indifference to it will, deBoer believes, “make it easier for reactionary power, every step of the way.”

Misinvesting in Higher Ed

Those who are reactionaries, or merely dubious about the social justice project, face a prudential question of their own: would the defunding of public higher education that deBoer fears lead to a good or a bad result? Several considerations deBoer does not consider argue in favor of it. Most importantly, there is a case to be made, one having nothing to do with academic politics, that we are over- and misinvesting in higher education, rather than under-investing. A bachelor’s degree used to set people apart in a way it no longer does.

Only 7.7% of American adults held one in 1960, compared to 33.4% in 2016. As economist Richard Vedder has repeatedly made clear, the growing ranks of bartenders, waiters, hairdressers, and letter carriers with undergraduate and graduate degrees argues that too many young people, not too few, are steered into the 120-credit-hour slog for that one credential. The resources, including public money and private time now squandered on that quest, would do more people more good if redirected to training programs that match the jobs actually attainable and emerging in the 21st century.

We’re also over-investing in higher education if too many college students receive degrees despite not learning anything in particular. In Academically Adrift (2011) Richard Arum and Josipa Roksa described precisely that situation: large numbers of recent college graduates are “failing to develop … higher order cognitive skills.” Specifically, 45% of the students Arum and Roksa studied were no better at critical thinking, complex reasoning, and written communication after two years of college than they were at freshman orientation, and 35% were no better after four years. This is a particular problem in large public institutions, where many students become “maze smart,” figuring out how to accumulate credit hours without really learning anything, and students and professors tacitly enter into a “mutual nonaggression pact,” exchanging good grades, easily earned, for students’ favorable evaluations of their instructors.

There is, in short, a strong case apart from anti-conservative bias for state legislatures to make far more skeptical, rigorous, and targeted funding decisions about post-secondary education. The political question all but cinches it. And the political question is not about exerting power or exacting revenge but affirming fairness. Non-coercion and intellectual pluralism really are valuable principles.

The fact that, with little optimism, deBoer appeals to self-preservation to get professors to respect these standards shows how contemptuously they are regarded in the academy. Elected officials who fail to uphold academic principles in the only language academics understand—by eliminating faculty lines and slashing budgets—will vindicate academia’s contempt for intellectual freedom, and for the taxpayers who subsidize higher education.

Are Teachers the Last Defense Against Artificial Intelligence?

On July 15/16, the Wall Street Journal had an ominous story on the advancing influence of a few technology companies on every aspect of our lives. The main focus fell on the extraordinary growth of Google, Amazon, Facebook, Apple, and Microsoft, a colossal quintet that makes the old days of the Robber Barons look minor league.

The opening point, however, notes technology’s revolutionary impact on the labor market. When driverless cars come along (currently, the most discussed example of automation and the workforce), we may see 300,000 jobs disappear every year, we read. Truck drivers, cabbies, delivery men, movers, driving teachers . . . millions of them will fall out of the workforce. When I mentioned to a friend the other day that the political/culture war ignited by the election of Donald Trump may get more violent as we approach the midterm elections, he shook his head and said, “That’s nothing compared to what’s going to happen when robots take over all the driving. All those men can’t do anything else, and they’re going to be hungry.”

This is one area where, for once, the humanities are safe. Any profession and job involving not just transportation, but also calculation, computing, unskilled factory labor, etc. will give way to automation. Voices of caution such as Nicholas Carr won’t slow the process. Robots don’t need health coverage and pensions, and they don’t join unions.

But the humanities presume human contact. The interaction of teacher and student involves much more than the transfer of information. The materials on the table are emotional and value-heavy. They touch profound joys and dark ambitions. It is hard to discuss the Grand Inquisitor or watch Lady Macbeth at night (“Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?”) without the human factor coloring the session.

Freudians speak of transference and counter-transference in the psychoanalytic method, and they play a part in meaningful humanities teaching, too. They can always go awry, for instance, when discipleship becomes so strong that the student never comes into his own, but we can’t get rid of them without turning the classroom into a non-humanistic zone.

And so, we can’t replace humanities teachers with automated instruction.

Everything I’ve said up to this point is true—except for the previous sentence. I just read about a new step in the evolution of humanities automation this morning. The University of Michigan is testing an “automated text-analysis tool” in large lower-level science classes, a program that lets teachers assign more writing and assumes much of the burden of feedback and guidance. Teachers don’t have to sit with students one-on-one and go over rough drafts, a process that can run all day and only reach 12 or so students. The program does it automatically as soon as students log on to it, examining writing sent to it and responding with corrections and suggestions.

Now, this is a science class, not a humanities class. Furthermore, the University of Michigan states that computers will not assign grades. The program is an advisory device, not an evaluative one. But anyone who believes that automated advising and grading are not coming soon to all the disciplines doesn’t understand college finances.

Freshman composition is a big problem in the eyes of administrators when it comes to labor productivity. I don’t mean the product of the labor, namely, an articulate sophomore, but the nature of the labor. The former is bad enough, as we can see when we ask teachers across the curriculum how well students write. But the latter is exasperating, too.

When the budget people visualize an instructor in Psychology 101 lecturing to 350 students and relying on three graduate teaching assistants to run once-a-week discussion sections and assigning grades with multiple-choice tests, they smile. But when they see a freshman comp instructor with a class of 25 students who write six five-page papers during the semester, they see a gross inefficiency. Paying an instructor to spend six hours every other week solely on grading 25 essays looks awfully expensive, especially when the psychology teacher can do the same job and cover 350 students.

Automation is a solution. What took the person six hours to do, the computer can do in a few minutes. If we can pay one composition instructor to teach a class of 200 students, lecturing to the group on general principles of strong writing, but using teaching-assistant robots to individualize the instruction, then we don’t have to pay five teachers to handle those students. One can envision a stressed-out dean rubbing his hands over the prospect.

It’s already happening in the scoring of standardized tests. I heard of it a few years ago while working for ETS on the GRE. The background was the pressure on schools and governments to bring accountability to student performance in writing, which colleges and businesses constantly deplore (No Child Left Behind, passed a few years earlier, emphasized testing in reading and math, but not writing.) Enrollments in remedial writing classes were going up, and so were the number of organizations hiring writing tutors for younger workers.

To assess writing and improve instruction accordingly was going to take a lot of money. The SAT added a writing component in 2006, for example, which meant some 1.6 million pieces of writing had to be read and scored each year. You can imagine the cost of paying temp workers to do so. The State of Illinois, in fact, dropped writing tests in 2005 to save $6 million.

With these burdens, institutions can’t help but spread computerized grading of writing throughout higher education. It doesn’t matter that current programs have their flaws. Enough of them will be ironed out to justify using the programs, especially when school officials see the savings.

And there is another benefit as well. It bears precisely on the humanistic nature of the humanities that I highlighted above. What we might take as an enticement — that is, the emotional and psychological nature of humanities teaching — administrators see as a risk. With relations between teachers and students becoming tenser, and with students growing more conscious of offense and discrimination, human-to-robot contact seems safer, too, not just cheaper. The more instruction and grading can be rationalized and dehumanized, especially in courses that touch upon delicate issues, the fewer complaints and allegations and lawsuits will occur.

One final consideration. It used to be the case that parents and students demanded small classes and lots of instructor attention. But from what I’ve seen and heard lately, grades and accreditation increasingly matter more than the human touch. Administrators and humanities colleagues at other campuses tell me that income and employment prospects are #1 in the minds of the “customers,” not an intense engagement with professors.

In fact, if they sense that teachers demand too much attention, at least in courses not directly related to their future careers, students drift away. Not many of them are going to object to having to conduct pedagogy through the screen in their dorm rooms at night rather than spending a half hour in a professor’s office in the middle of the day. Millennials prefer it that way.

An Anti-Koch Rampage at Wake Forest

Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, NC is a selective school with a faculty that has a considerable number of, to use Roger Kimball’s phrase, tenured radicals. Just about two hours to the east in Raleigh is Wake Tech Community College, a typically unpretentious school offering lots of “practical” education.

Recent events at the two schools shed some light on the difference between our prestigious four-year universities and utilitarian community colleges. The comparison is not flattering to the former.

The tale at Wake Forest begins with the hiring of Professor James Otteson as Executive Director of the BB&T Center for the Study of Capitalism. Otteson, a true scholar and proponent of classical liberalism had previously taught at Yeshiva, NYU, Georgetown, and the University of Alabama.

Aristotle’s word for ‘Flourishing’

Otteson’s interest in classical philosophy gave him the idea for a campus institute that would explore the idea of human happiness – what he’d eventually call the Eudaimonia Institute, borrowing Aristotle’s term for flourishing. The Institute would be interdisciplinary, drawing upon scholars in philosophy, economics, and political science to discuss the institutions that lead to human happiness.

No one raised the least objection to Otteson’s project until he announced that it had received a grant of $3.7 million from the Charles Koch Foundation. Suddenly, many faculty “progressives” who had seen nothing dangerous in the Eudaimonia Institute woke up to the terrible prospect of their lovely campus being polluted with money from the ‘evil’ Koch brothers. A faculty senate committee formed to “investigate” the donation promptly declared that the money must be rejected. As the Wall Street Journal reported, the committee insisted (yes, all in caps) that the university must “SEVER ALL CONNECTIONS TO THE CHARLES KOCH FOUNDATION.”

Another faculty senate committee then weighed in. It declared that if Wake Forest kept the Koch funds for the Eudaimonia Institute, its academic integrity, financial autonomy, and institutional governance would all be compromised. Petulantly, the committee wanted the administration to cancel a conference the Institute had already scheduled on campus. The anti-Koch rampage even went so far as to cause the business school to drop a course Otteson had taught for years as a requirement for graduation.

Faculty Hostility

Wake Forest did not decide to reject the $3.7 million, but the faculty senate in its implacable hostility has managed to paralyze the funds. They can’t be used without its approval, which won’t be forthcoming.

During the turmoil at his home campus, Professor Otteson was invited to give a lecture at Wake Tech. He spoke on the morality of the free market, on income inequality, and on justice – topics central to classical liberalism. How was his talk received?

Wake Tech economics professor Kelly Markson writes about that in this piece published by the James G. Martin Center. She was there and writes, “At my school, Professor Otteson received a warmer response. That’s partly because most if not all of those in attendance were unaware that Otteson was being censured at WFU, and went in without any preconceived ideas. There were no protests nor rioting for this Koch-funded speaker. Students attended with an open mind. The result? Otteson hit a home run.”

The students all listened politely and those who lined up to engage with Otteson in the Q and A session, asked sensible questions – and received sensible answers. Obviously, Otteson succeeded in doing at Wake Tech the thing that is most central to higher education: He got people to think.

It’s interesting that a strong defender of free markets and opponent of big government like Jim Otteson can get a good reception at a college talk (notwithstanding the fact that Koch funds helped pay for it), while people with similar views get shouted down by students who are furious that such an individual is even allowed on campus. I think that Markson points at the explanation when she says the students went into his talk without any preconceived ideas.

At big, prestigious schools like Wake Forest, the left invests heavily in spreading preconceived ideas. In classes, many faculty members love to impart their notions about social justice, institutional racism, the evils of capitalism, and so on to their students. Moreover, the students learn that those who oppose “progressive” policies are not just mistaken, but malevolent. Therefore, whenever a wrong-thinking person is asked to speak, it is very easy for leftist groups to organize raucous, even violent protests. They’ve been conditioned to respond in anger when they hear names like Murray or Koch.

Getting People to Listen

The calm response to Jim Otteson’s talk at Wake Tech suggests that the default setting for American students is still, “I’m willing to listen.” The basically no-nonsense faculty and administration at Wake Tech have done little or nothing to implant in them the intolerant, “I’m not going to listen because I know you’re spewing hate speech” attitude.

That makes me slightly optimistic. Apparently, it isn’t the case that America’s students are becoming intolerant zealots. Only that those who get steeped in “progressivism” and its offshoots while in college become the kinds of rioters we’ve seen at Middlebury and Berkeley and Yale and Evergreen. That’s bad, but limited.

Or, to turn this around, it should worry all the leftist zealots that they seem to have gotten nowhere with students at an ordinary school like Wake Tech where the focus is on useful learning rather than political indoctrination.

A Bi-Polar Report on ‘Laggard’ Public Colleges

Right now, the biggest news in higher education is a controversial paper from Dimitrios Halikias and Richard Reeves of the Brookings Institution, arguing that “the upper middle class is substantially over-represented” in America’s universities, that “public investment…too often fails to produce either social mobility or socially beneficial research,” and that “the significant public subsidies spent on the education of the relatively affluent could be better spent elsewhere.”

The report, “Ladders, Labs or Laggards? Which Public Universities Contribute Most?” argues that the upper middle class is impeding the rise of less well-off Americans. It is amplified in Reeves’ recent book, Dream Hoarders, and by a New York Times column last week by David Brooks agreeing that “we in the educated class have created barriers to mobility” blocking the rise of the less well-off.

Too Focused on Economic Mobility?

Many of us in the field will accept the basic argument. For years, I have complained that we devote huge subsidies to support the comparative affluent students who dominate most American schools, individuals who in an earlier, poorer age, largely supported themselves. I have railed against “academic gated communities” that work to create a new sort of credentialed aristocracy inconsistent with the American Dream or the country described beautifully by Alexis de Tocqueville nearly two centuries ago. And I have questioned vacuous academic research, arguing that we are “overinvested” in higher education – meaning, to me, that we should reduce public support. With all of these points, there is solid supporting empirical evidence.

But then the authors go astray and their report turns bipolar. To them (neither of whom attended American state universities, one graduating from Oxford and the other Yale) the leading purposes of public institutions are “serving as engines of social mobility and producing world-class research.” Is that the core of what higher education does? What about diffusing knowledge and promoting wisdom, character building and leadership? And, as Robert Samuelson points out in discussing the Reeves book in the Washington Post, there is still a great deal of income mobility in America.

How Important Is Most Research?

To Halikias and Reeves, a school is a “laggard” if it is not top flight in research. Yet research prowess is defined by a crude Carnegie classification system that evaluates schools on research inputs (what it spends) and on the number of graduate students. According to these criteria, a dollar spent on research is better than a dollar spent on instruction; a graduate student admitted is good, an undergraduate is a dubious loss leader, at best a cash cow to subsidize more important graduate students, many of whom someday will publish articles for the Journal of Last Resort or its equivalent, read or cited by very few if any scholars.

Moreover, the authors decided to ignore private schools –the purest bastions of academic privilege for the affluent, many of which are indirectly governmentally subsidized as much or more than so-called “state” universities—why? Similarly, the authors arbitrarily exclude the nation’s historically black colleges and universities — they have a “specialized” mission, we are told. But they also have large numbers of low-income students, and the accessibility of American schools by poor persons was a central issue to the authors.

We are told the 342 schools sampled were “selective” admissions schools, a somewhat dubious categorization for many sampled universities where relatively few students are rejected for admission (e.g., University of South Alabama, Youngstown State University, University of Texas at El Paso).

Only 70 schools, 20 percent of the sample, were cited as  the “leaders” in higher education (having high-income mobility among the students, along with high levels of research among the faculty). I took six schools from the top 20 on that list: the University of Texas at El Paso, the University of New Orleans, the University of Texas at San Antonio, Wayne State University, the University of South Alabama and Cleveland State University. Using data from the U.S. Department of Education website College Scorecard, I observed that at all of these schools, a large majority (over 60 percent) of full-time students failed to graduate in six years –well above the national average. These “leaders” did not do what many of us consider Job One: graduate entering students.

A decidedly alternative interpretation: many schools prey upon the poor and academically unprepared: they admit them, telling them college is a ticket to a better, solidly middle-class life, knowing full well that most of them will fail to graduate –but will incur large student loan debts (at “leader” Wayne State, over 60 percent of students who borrowed had failed to pay at least one dollar of their student loans back –three years after attending). Yet these schools sucker academics of the Thomas Piketty perspective into believing they are “leaders” in the quest for intergenerational income mobility. A better than decent case can be made that some of the Halikias-Reeves “leader” universities should actually die: their social costs exceed the social benefits.

A good case can be made that progressive public policies have created much of the problem that the Brookings researchers lament. A third of a century ago, Charles Murray showed how generous entitlement policies of the federal government created a relatively permanent underclass of poor people who have lost the incentives and will to work and learn, qualities transmitted to their children. Teachers unions finance leftish politicians and their big spending, accompanied by their opposition to school competition, merit pay, and parental choice. All this has contributed mightily to the genuinely awful schools that dominate most inner cities inhabited by a large portion of the nation’s poor.

A Plug  for Vocational Education

The authors at one point do make one sensible suggestion: many students might benefit from vocationally oriented schooling that does not result in a four-year degree. The probability of completing that type of education is probably greater, costs are lower, and earnings of, say, plumbers, welders, or drivers of large trucks tend to compare favorably with those with B.A. degrees in gender studies from some obscure state school.

Universities were created mainly to create and disseminate knowledge and ideas. The case for public subsidy of them typically assumes that universities have enormous positive externalities (good spillover effects) and/or promote economic opportunity and income mobility. Frankly, I think the positive externality argument is more an article of faith than an empirical reality. And I think Halikias and Reeves are right that college does not promote income mobility –look at rising income inequality in the decades since higher education spread to the masses. So to me, the question is: why do we continue to publicly subsidize colleges?

Here’s What Happens as Campuses Turn Further Left

A couple of years ago, six social scientists published a paper describing a disquieting occurrence in academic psychology: the loss of almost all its political diversity. As Jonathan Haidt of NYU, one of the authors of the paper wrote in a commentary:

Before the 1990s, academic psychology only leaned left. Liberals and Democrats outnumbered Conservatives and Republican by 4 to 1 or less. But as the “greatest generation” retired in the 1990s and was replaced by baby boomers, the ratio skyrocketed to something more like 12 to 1. In just 20 years. Few psychologists realize just how quickly or completely the field became a political monoculture.

While the paper focuses on psychology, it briefly mentions that the rest of the social sciences are not far behind:

Recent surveys find that 58–66 percent of social science professors in the United States identify as liberals, while only 5–8 percent identify as conservatives, and that self-identified Democrats outnumber Republicans by ratios of at least 8 to 1 (Gross & Simmons 2007; Klein & Stern 2009; Rothman & Lichter 2008).

Related: How the Leftist Monoculture Took Over the Academy 

As these studies are now approximately ten years old, it’s quite plausible that the gap has widened further over the past decade (as it has in psychology) meaning that these figures most likely underestimate the current left-to-right ratio across the social sciences.

In response to this problem, Haidt and others formed the Heterodox Academy website, which is dedicated to arguing for a more intellectually diverse academy and now has almost 900 members.

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One shouldn’t draw conclusions too hastily, of course, and there are many plausible explanations for this trend. For example, economist Paul Krugman argued on his blog that data suggests the Republican Party has moved rightwards over the past few decades, dragging with it the definition of a “conservative,” thus driving academics away from both the Republican Party and from conservative orientation.

Krugman suggests that this is especially true of scientists, even more so than non-scientist academics, due to a perceived hostility towards climate change data and evolutionary theory within the Republican Party. (He doesn’t distinguish social scientists from scientists in general. Although to be fair, the Heterodox Academy has marketed itself as addressing a general problem in academia.)

Professors Moved Sharply to the Left

A more detailed examination by political scientist Sam Abrams doesn’t lend support to Krugman’s hypothesis. Abrams found that party and ideological affiliation has remained relatively constant among the American population over the past 25 years; while it has shifted markedly to the left among professors:

Professors were more liberal than the country in 1990, but only by about 11 percentage points. By 2013, the gap had tripled; it is now more than 30 points. It seems reasonable to conclude that it is academics who shifted, as there is no equivalent movement among the masses whatsoever.

What is particularly striking about this shift is that the number of moderates has dropped sharply among professors. This seems to be the strongest argument against Krugman’s hypothesis. If professors were driven away by a rightward shift in the Republican Party, one could reasonably expect a build-up of moderates. Yet, this has not happened at all.

In fact, Haidt recently reported on a remarkable survey that was conducted among the Society for Experimental Social Psychology, which, as Haidt notes, is … a professional society composed of the most active researchers in the field who are at least five years post-PhD. It’s very selective—you must be nominated by a current member and approved by a committee before you can join.

As part of the survey, members were asked to identify their political affiliation on an eleven-point scale, from “very liberal” to “very conservative.” (One point in the center and five on each side.) The results are telling. Only percent cent of respondents chose a conservative point, and only 8.3 percent chose the center-point, meaning that 89.3 per cent identified as left-of-center.

Social psychologists’ self-ratings of their political orientation. Taken from Bill von Hippel and David Buss’s survey of the membership of the Society for Experimental Social Psychology, 2016.

Intriguingly, the least popular point among the left-of-center points was the most moderate one (5.8 per cent), and the second-least popular was the second-most moderate one (15.6 per cent). More than two thirds (67.8 per cent) chose one of the three points furthest to the left on an eleven-point scale, and more than a third (38 per cent) chose one of the two points furthest to the left. And 16 per cent chose the furthest possible point to the left on an eleven-point scale.

This means that there were almost as many people who chose the furthest possible point to the left as there were who chose all the conservative points, the center-point and the most moderate left-of-center point combined (16.6 per cent).

The members were also asked to rate themselves on nine specific political issues and mention who they voted for in the 2012 election, which also showed an overwhelmingly left-leaning attitude. I find the general political placement the most interesting, though, because it shows how these members think of themselves politically in the abstract.

People that freely self-identify as far-left in the abstract, in other words irrespective of specific political issues, seem to me to be signaling something: that they are committed to an ideology. The fact that such a large portion of the most influential people in academic social psychology do so suggests that this ideology is entrenched in their field.

‘Social Justice’ an Entrenched Ideology

And there are signs that point in that direction across the social sciences. Sociologist Carl Bankston paints a picture of a field that has institutionalized “social justice” ideology on all levels over the past twenty years:

To attend a conference these days can feel like taking part in a rally of true believers. These associations are not government entities, one may argue, and they are entitled to become exclusive clubs of the committed.

The problem is that the embedded ideologies of academic professional organizations are bound up with the embedded ideologies of universities. When we hire new faculty members or when we tenure or promote professors, one of the points we consider is whether the individuals concerned have been active in professional associations, especially the national association. Because the associations so strongly push political perspectives, universities implicitly encourage professors to hold and express the “correct” socio-political orientation.

From Bankston’s description, it seems clear that any non-leftist would find working in sociology almost unbearable. The research in the original paper suggests that the leftward shift in social science is likely due to a combination of self-selection, hostile climate, and discrimination.

In Haidt’s commentary, referring to the hostile climate, he includes part of an email from a former graduate student in a top 10 Ph.D. program, which he says is representative of several he received:

I can’t begin to tell you how difficult it was for me in graduate school because I am not a liberal Democrat. As one example, following Bush’s defeat of Kerry, one of my professors would email me every time a soldier’s death in Iraq made the headlines; he would call me out, publicly blaming me for not supporting Kerry in the election. I was a reasonably successful graduate student, but the political ecology became too uncomfortable for me. Instead of seeking the professorship that I once worked toward, I am now leaving academia for a job in industry.

With regard to discrimination, a recent article in Quillette presents a sobering anecdote from someone (who considers himself on the left) going through the process of applying to prestigious graduate programs, and how he was consistently steered toward the expression of far-left ideological views by well-meaning advisors who presumably know what review committees are looking for.

Here he summarizes the process:

As a brief disclaimer, none of what I say here should be interpreted as a criticism of my advisors – not of their job performance and especially of their personal predilections. If anything, I think they did their jobs well. Given what I perceive as the entrenched far-Left political ideology in the world of academia, I’m confident that their advice improved my applications in the eyes of review committees. I can honestly say that by the end of the process, I felt as if the only way to be considered a serious candidate – by the Rhodes Trust, Harvard Admissions, etc. – was to present myself and my proposed research as conforming entirely to a far-Left political narrative.

An Increasingly Radical Ideology

It seems likely to me that there are self-reinforcing mechanisms at work. As the ratio of liberals to conservatives increased, a tipping-point was reached where conservatives were actively excluded from the social sciences, and as they have disappeared the more radical liberals are now outnumbering the moderates to the point where they too are being gradually excluded. In other words, it appears that social science is undergoing a purity spiral towards an increasingly radical left-wing ideology. The anecdote above suggests just this.

I suspect there is some truth to Krugman’s hypothesis, and the Pew Research data that Krugman links to does suggest there is a large group of politically unaffiliated scientists. Unfortunately, the data doesn’t separate natural scientists and social scientists. This suggests that Abrams’s data understates the extent to which both liberal and moderates have disappeared from the social sciences and supports the idea of a purity spiral in these fields.

If there has been a build-up of moderates among natural scientists, it means—since the number of moderates has decreased sharply among professors as a whole—that even more moderates must have disappeared from the other areas of academia. (It’s likely that the humanities have followed a similar development to the social sciences; a recent Quillette article by a classicist suggests as much, at least within their field.)

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This is a much more serious problem than the number of conservatives in the field. If the social sciences were full of people who were moderate or apolitical, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem. But the fact that a specific ideology has become so entrenched, and is increasingly becoming more and more so as others—even moderate leftists like the graduate program applicant above—are gradually disappearing from the field, is highly disturbing.

So, what is this ideology?

In the paper, it is labelled the liberal progress narrative, articulated by sociologist Christian Smith:

Once upon a time, the vast majority of human persons suffered in societies and social institutions that were unjust, unhealthy, repressive, and oppressive. These traditional societies were reprehensible because of their deep-rooted inequality, exploitation, and irrational traditionalism. . . . But the noble human aspiration for autonomy, equality, and prosperity struggled mightily against the forces of misery and oppression, and eventually succeeded in establishing modern, liberal, democratic… welfare societies.

While modern social conditions hold the potential to maximize the individual freedom and pleasure of all, there is much work to be done to dismantle the powerful vestiges of inequality, exploitation, and repression. This struggle for the good society in which individuals are equal and free to pursue their self-defined happiness is the one mission truly worth dedicating one’s life to achieving.

No doubt most social scientists would nod their heads to this. Unfortunately, it’s so simplistic, and so full of vague, emotionally charged words that it’s not very informative. To understand leftist ideology, we need it to be more specific. What actual things in the current world does it want to replace, and what specific things would it put in their place?

Haidt, appearing on author Sam Harris’s podcast, gave a somewhat more specific description when he described leftist ideology as the following (starting at 01:02:09, lightly edited for clarity):

So, I take part in a lot of discussions, I’m invited to all sorts of lefty meetings about a global society and… you know… the left usually wants global governance, they want more power vested in the U.N., I hear a lot of talk on the left about how countries and national borders are bad things, they’re arbitrary. So, the left tends to want more of a universal… I’m just thinking about the John Lennon song… this is what I always go back to, Imagine. Imagine there’s no religion, no countries, no private property, nothing to kill or die for, then it will all be peace and harmony. So that is sort of the far-leftist view of what the end state of social evolution could be.

Related: The Normalization of Bad Ideas

This is more specific than Smith’s narrative, suggesting initiatives such as reducing national power and redistributing property. This, of course, is a much broader definition of fighting oppression than for example abolishing slavery.

One could argue that as slavery and feudalism have been eradicated, terms like oppressionexploitation, and inequality have increasingly become dysphemisms for power differences of any kind. In this view, the fact alone that one country, group, or person is wealthier or more influential than another is sufficient for the label oppressive.

This isn’t to say that everyone who subscribes to Smith’s liberal progress narrative agrees with Haidt’s extension. The point, rather, is that the liberal progress narrative is so vague and emotionally charged that it’s probably unclear even to most liberals themselves what these terms mean when referring to the specifics of the modern world.

(I should note that Haidt now considers himself a centrist rather than a liberal, so he’s not claiming to describe his own position.)

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Why is it a problem that the liberal progress narrative is so vague, yet has come to dominate social science?

Well, the liberal progress narrative is not new. Nor is extrapolating it into the future. In fact, one of the most influential documents in recent history, The Communist Manifesto by Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, does exactly this.

Their central argument is that human history is a succession of systems, each less oppressive than the previous, until it reaches its conclusion in communism, a system with no oppression because everyone is equal. Aside from the historical extrapolation, Marx and Engels use much of the same terminology as Smith. The words oppression and exploitation and their derivates feature prominently, and capitalism is referred to as slavery—notably similar to the dysphemism suggested above.

Consider the following:

[The bourgeoisie] has resolved personal worth into exchange value, and in place of the numberless indefeasible chartered freedoms, has set up that single, unconscionable freedom—Free Trade. In one word, for exploitation, veiled by religious and political illusions, it has substituted naked, shameless, direct, brutal exploitation.

Take away the specifics in The Communist Manifesto, such as the definition of classes, and it becomes almost indistinguishable from Smith’s liberal progress narrative. Compare for example Smith’s last sentence with what Marx and Engels write at the end of Chapter II:

In place of the old bourgeois society, with its classes and class antagonisms, we shall have an association, in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all.

The Communist Manifesto, along with Marx’s later works, played a key role in energizing and coalescing communist revolutionaries, and several societies throughout the twentieth century declared themselves in accord with Marx’s theory. The results, however, have been consistently disastrous.

Very few social scientists are communists, I imagine. But why? If most social scientists subscribe to Smith’s liberal progress narrative, and communism is (arguably) the logical conclusion of the liberal progress narrative, then shouldn’t they subscribe to communism as the ideal human society?

The answer for many, presumably, is that they don’t subscribe to communism because it produced disastrous results. But if the main lesson social science has learned from the failures of communism is that eliminating private property is a bad idea, then it has learned far too narrow a lesson.

What it should have done is asked itself this: if communism is the logical conclusion of the liberal progress narrative, and communism has consistently failed disastrously, what does this tell us about the liberal progress narrative—or as Haidt calls it, Universalism?

What’s interesting about Haidt’s alternative interpretation of the liberal progress narrative is that he mentions two elements central to the narrative—private property and nations. And what has happened to a large extent is that as the failures of communism have become increasingly apparent many on the left—including social scientists—have shifted their activism away from opposing private property and towards other aspects, for example globalism.

But how do we know a similarly disastrous thing is not going to happen with globalism as happened with communism? What if some form of national and ethnic affiliation is a deep-seated part of human nature, and that trying to forcefully suppress it will eventually lead to a disastrous counter-reaction? What if nations don’t create conflict, but alleviate it? What if a decentralized structure is the best way for human society to function?

What if the type of mass-scale immigration currently occurring in Europe, containing relatively large amounts of people with different nationalities, cultures, and religions, is going against some of the core features of human nature? Maybe it isn’t, but if it is, do we have to wait until after the fact to say ‘well, globalism doesn’t work’, as we did with communism? Surely there is a better way.

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Let’s set aside the liberal progress narrative for a while and consider a different narrative. Let’s call it the scientific progress narrative:

Once upon a time, human beliefs and practices were crude, steeped in superstition, and tightly regulated by central authority. Consequently, humans were at the mercy of not only an unpredictable and punishing environment, but also of each other. But the human aspiration for truth and stability eventually prevailed, as humans piece by piece began to assemble a model of not only their environments, but of human nature itself. With this understanding came the blueprint for establishing a robust, dynamic society that could withstand environmental pressures while effectively regulating human interaction.

Thus, societies learned to harness human potential by working with human nature, not against it. Again and again, theories that were believed unquestionably true were replaced by better ones, often after heavy resistance. There is much still to be understood, but it’s clear that the struggle for a good society must be led by an uncompromising search for truth, however uncomfortable it might seem at the time. Any society that forces humans to behave against their nature is bound to eventually fail, and only truth can prevent this from happening.

Now, it’s not clear that this narrative contradicts the liberal progress narrative. In fact, for most of the past few centuries, the two—or some variants of them—have been held to be two sides of the same coin. Maybe they are. But it’s not obvious that they are, so it’s important not to conflate them. They both describe the past reasonably well. But what about the future?

Well, they appear to be diverging. The most important cause of the divergence is the advances in cognitive science, evolutionary psychology, and neuroscience, which has led to a model of human nature that many leftists find unacceptable because they perceive it to threaten the liberal progress narrative. As Steven Pinker wrote in The Blank Slate (1992a0:

Related: Some New and Narrow Versions of Academic Freedom

The taboo on human nature has not just put blinkers on researchers but turned any discussion of it into a heresy that must be stamped out. Many writers are so desperate to discredit any suggestion of an innate human constitution that they have thrown logic and civility out the window. Elementary distinctions—“some” versus “all,” “probable” versus “always,” “is” versus “ought”—are eagerly flouted to paint human nature as an extremist doctrine and thereby steer readers away from it. The analysis of ideas is commonly replaced by political smears and personal attacks. This poisoning of the intellectual atmosphere has left us unequipped to analyze pressing issues about human nature just as new scientific discoveries are making them acute.

The second point of divergence is when scientists uncover negative effects of programs attempting to implement the liberal progress narrative. Consider Carl Bankston:

In 1976 the president of the American Sociological Association, Alfred McClung Lee, led a movement to expel prominent researcher James S. Coleman from the association because Coleman had dared to draw the ideologically unacceptable conclusion from research data that busing and other means of forcible school desegregation were actually exacerbating segregation by intensifying white flight. To the ASA’s credit, the expulsion effort failed, but only after many attacks on Coleman’s character and motivations.

Now consider both these points in relation to, for instance, globalism. If the suggestion that national, or ethnic affinity (or more broadly, tribalism) is deeply rooted in human nature is considered taboo, and likewise any attempt to describe cultural clashes and lack of assimilation in, for example, Europe is forcefully attacked, this can accumulate to become a significant blind spot.

Add to that the practice within the social sciences of using dysphemisms like xenophobia to refer to non-Universalist attitudes towards globalism, and you have a situation where the pursuit of truth is being hampered in the quest to support the liberal progress narrative, and where there appears to be a disturbing lack of learning from the disasters of communism.

It is important that people stand up for science, even when it clashes with the liberal progress narrative – or Universalism, as Haidt calls it. Yet, as non-leftists and increasingly also moderate leftists are being excluded from the social sciences, there appear to be fewer and fewer people willing to do so. The consequences could be grave.

Reprinted from Quillette with permission.