Things People Blame the Jews For, Volume LXXVI: Shutting Down the Internet

 

The above screenshot is of prominent tech journalist Taylor Lorenz screenshotting a 4chan post where someone claims "[REDACTED] are going to lock down the entire internet very soon." 

Can you guess what word was redacted?

If you answered "Jews", bzzt. Sorry, but that's not quite right.

The correct answer is "kikes". It's the "kikes" who are "going to lock down the entire internet very soon."*

Lorenz, to be fair, does make sure to point out one area of disagreement with the 4channer she's promoting. She thinks that "shut down" is not going to be literally true (rather, the internet will be "censored into oblivion"). But on the whole "kikes" thing, no correction apparently is needed. (And of course, even with the whole "kikes" things, you still get people saying "but it's just anti-Zionism!")

* Fun fact: When I told my wife the answer wasn't Jews but that it was "close", her next guess was "globalists". And I was like, "oh, you're reaching for euphemisms and that's going in the wrong direction here."

Georgetown Stands Up in the Face of the Trump Admin's Attempted Academic Boycott

A little while ago, the Interim United States Attorney for the District of Columbia, Ed Martin -- who has rapidly begun distinguishing himself as one of Trump's most odious foot soldiers -- sent a letter to Georgetown Law School demanding that they eliminate all "DEI" from their curriculum and threatening to refuse to hire Georgetown graduates until they do so (if "a little while ago" sounds vague, that's because it took Martin two attempts to send the letter -- he misaddressed it the first time).

Martin's threats are reminiscent of the announced boycott of Columbia grads by Judge James Ho and some of his fellow far-right travelers, and the Dean of Georgetown responded exactly how I wish the Dean of Columbia would have responded: by refusing to give in and also by naming exactly what is happening here: a threat of official government penalty against private institutions for refusing to kowtow to official ideological orthodoxy. This goes way beyond the "jawboning" or informal requests that caused conservatives to shriek their heads off during the Biden administration; we have in these cases an explicit promise of legal retaliation on private actors who don't toe the government's line. It is hard to imagine a clearer instance of de jure censorship than this, and Georgetown Dean Bill Treanor doesn't mince words:

As a Catholic and Jesuit institution, Georgetown University was founded on the principle that serious and sustained discourse among people of different faiths, cultures, and beliefs promotes intellectual, ethical, and spiritual understanding. For us at Georgetown, this principle is a moral and educational imperative. It is a principle that defines our mission as a Catholic and Jesuit institution. Georgetown University also prohibits discrimination and harassment in its programs and activities and takes seriously its obligations to comply with all federal and local laws.

Your letter challenges Georgetown’s ability to define our mission as an educational institution. It inquires about Georgetown Law’s curriculum and classroom teaching, asks whether diversity, equity, and inclusion is part of the curriculum, and asserts that your office will not hire individuals from schools where you find the curriculum “unacceptable.” The First Amendment, however, guarantees that the government cannot direct what Georgetown and its faculty teach and how to teach it. The Supreme Court has continually affirmed that among the freedoms central to a university’s First Amendment rights are its abilities to determine, on academic grounds, who may teach, what to teach, and how to teach it.

This is a bedrock principle of constitutional law – recognized not only by the courts, but by the administration in which you serve. The Department of Education confirmed last week that it cannot restrict First Amendment rights and that it is statutorily prohibited from “exercising control over the content of school curricula.” 

Your letter informs me that your office will deny our students and graduates government employment opportunities until you, as Interim United States Attorney for the District of Columbia, approve of our curriculum. Given the First Amendment’s protection of a university’s freedom to determine its own curriculum and how to deliver it, the constitutional violation behind this threat is clear, as is the attack on the University’s mission as a Jesuit and Catholic institution.

Georgetown Law has one of the preeminent faculties in the country, fostering groundbreaking scholarship, educating students in a wide variety of perspectives, and thriving on the robust exchange of ideas. Georgetown Law faculty have educated world leaders, members of Congress, and Justice Department officials, from diverse backgrounds and perspectives. We pride ourselves on providing an excellent graduate and professional education, built upon the Catholic and Jesuit tradition. Georgetown-educated attorneys have, for decades, served this country capably and selflessly in offices such as yours, and we have confidence that tradition will continue. We look forward to your confirming that any Georgetown-affiliated candidates for employment with your office will receive full and fair consideration.

Very well said. The appeal to religious liberty is also appreciated in this context, though I suspect the Jesuits will fare as well as liberal Jews will under the new free exercise jurisprudence.

It should be clear by now that the Trump administration and its right-wing fellow travelers are launching a full-fledged BDS campaign against American universities that don't bow to its ideological agenda. The proposed academic boycott against Georgetown is one example, the myriad donor threats to divest their funding from colleges that don't crackdown on disfavored programs or speech is another, the proposal to sanction Columbia by axing over $50 million in contracts is yet another. These endeavors are an anathema to academic freedom and First Amendment values, and must be opposed by all principled defenders of the academy.*

* What a shame that the AAUP recently and abruptly shifted course and decided, after decades of strong opposition, that actually academic boycotts are a-okay. It's almost like it was eminently predictable that abandoning that principle might backfire very quickly given how the right has been racing for excuses to punish universities who they've deemed "complicit" in ideological projects and activities they oppose!

Another, (Mostly) Unrelated Way Life Sucks Now

A few days ago, I was chatting with my mom (who's retired down in Florida). After our usual pleasantries about the doomed world we live in, she told me about a weird thing that happened at her house while she was out (she has a Ring doorbell and so saw the recording).

Basically, two people, a woman and a man, came up and knocked on her door for awhile. Since nobody was home, obviously no one answered (though my mom said that if she was home alone, she'd be disinclined to talk to strangers banging on her door anyway). Eventually, the woman left a card and then they drove off. The card identified the woman as a U.S. Marshal, with a name, telephone, and email; on the back she wrote a note asking to please contact her ASAP about a "subpoena".

My mom thought, and I agreed, that this seemed pretty suspicious. My parents are law-abiding folk and aren't otherwise involved in any litigation; mom couldn't think of any reason that federal marshals would be delivering a subpoena. The note wasn't addressed to anyone in particular (it didn't have either of my parents' names, for instance). She was already on edge from the election, and living in DeSantis-land added to her fears that there might be some sort of political thuggery or intimidation at work. I googled the name on the card, which didn't reveal anything; on the other hand the phone number did match that of the local United States Courthouse. I asked my mom if she and dad had a lawyer and stressed that they should not let anyone pressure them into signing or paying or doing anything. Fortunately, my dad is a retired attorney and we know many people in the legal world, so they had plenty of resources to figure out if things were legitimate or not.

Anyway, the next day rolls around and it turns out that the card and the note and everything ... was entirely legitimate. An old case of my dad's from before he retired, that he thought had long fizzled out, had burbled back to life without warning (the reasons why this resulted in a federal subpoena are frankly too stupid to go into, but that's not my story to tell anyway). It'll be a quick bit of work for an old client in a few weeks, but everything was basically above board. No one was trying to steal their kidneys after all.

I told this story to a colleague of mine at work, and he relayed a similar situation he had been in a few months ago: he got a call from a man identifying himself as a police officer who claimed to have found a check under my colleague's name. The number from the call was a personal cell number; it was not that of the local police department. So my colleague called the department directly to ask if the man who called was really one of theirs, and the answer was ... yes. Apparently, some of his checks had been stolen out of the mail and recovered, and they really were calling to inform him of the situation. Again, everything was exactly as it was stated to be. No scam here.

In both cases, growing experience with spam and scams and hoaxes made people (quite reasonably) suspicious of genuine, legitimate interactions with authority figures. And hearing the outcome of these two stories, I thought back on something that happened to me a few weeks earlier, when I got a call from a man identifying himself as a county sheriff who asked me "why I missed my grand jury summons." I hadn't received any such summons and this is a scam I'm familiar with, so I told him something along the lines of "I'm pretty sure you're a scammer, otherwise contact my attorney" and hung up on him. Of course now, since the above two cases both turned out to be legitimate, I'm wondering if I just told an actual county sheriff to go fuck himself.

I haven't heard anything about this since, and again the "you missed your jury duty" bit is a common scam, so I'm pretty sure my instincts were right the first time. But again, it goes to a broader toxification in our informational ecosystem -- all these scams and hoaxes mean nobody knows who to trust at all: we risk falling for the fake, and we also risk ignoring what's real, and it's increasingly difficult to know how to ameliorate either of those risks. It is an exhausting and anxiety-laden way to live life, and it sucks.

And while I said this this particular suck is mostly unrelated to the main way life is terrible right now, there is a connection. Authoritarianism, Arendt teaches us, doesn't demand that people believe fictions. It flourishes best when people either do not care about, or lose confidence in their ability to distinguish, fact and fiction. 

One way this occurs is by a faux-worldly cynicism, where one congratulates oneself for recognizing that all politicians lie, are scoundrels, are in the bag for "the elites", etc., and so there are no differences worth sussing out. But another mechanism, that can afflict the more diligent and virtuous, is where institutions of authority and trust become so degraded or jumbled that it just becomes impossible to sort anything out. This is the risk of, for example, deep fakes -- one can entirely recognize that not everybody is lying while being helplessly unable to distinguish between an actual video of a political event and a manipulated or concocted one. 

Trusted institutions with reputations for vetting can help alleviate this problem. But as public confidence in those institutions fade -- or they simply become easier to spoof -- we're left with an endless sea of slop content, none of which can even in concept contain any markers of reliability or trustworthiness. And one thing we're seeing in 2024 is that this sort of toxified informational ecosystem is apocalyptically dangerous to a functioning democracy. It is not an accident that high on Trump's target list is leveraging government power to sabotage any effort -- public or private -- at combatting "misinformation". A world in which nobody can trust anything, where lies and truth become a single indistinguishable mass, is a world favorable to his brand of fascism.

One thing that I think "acab" sort of misses is that, even if it is correct to say things like "never trust the police", it is in fact bad to not be able to trust the police or other authority figures. Wondering if "the police" calling your house are really just Nigerian scammers, and wondering if "the police" calling your house are really just looking to harass you for lining up against the dominant governing faction, are two sides of the same coin. If I get subpoenaed, I want to know that without dialing up my entire legal network to figure out if it's a hoax! If I did accidentally miss a jury summons, I want someone to tell me so I can work things out!  More alarmingly, if an authority figure knocks on my door and says "there's a dangerous fugitive on the loose, have you seen anything," I want to be able to help out without wondering if the fugitive is a woman who had an abortion or an immigrant avoiding the deportation camps. When that trust fractures, it is a terrible way to live. The atmosphere of mistrust and suspicion that it cultivates, even -- maybe especially -- when it is well-warranted, is toxic to a free society. But in so many ways, this is the direction we're moving.

I Say This Book is Going To Burn -- First Here, Then in Hell

Utah is banning books (via). That, sadly, is barely even news anymore. But Utah's law has two unique properties to it. 

First, Utah's rule is that any book that is banned in at least three districts must also be banned statewide. Utah has over 600,000 students enrolled in its public schools, but its three smallest districts contain less than 700 children. So the entire state is at the mercy of its three most conservative districts, which may enroll a tiny percentage of the overall school-aged population.

Second, once a book is banned Utah wants to be very clear. It is not to be stored. It is not to be donated. It is not to be sold. It is not to be distributed. It is to be "disposed" of. There's no compromise where maybe the books can be given to people who would enjoy or appreciate them. No -- quoth one board member: "I don’t care if it’s shredded, burned, it has to be destroyed one way or another."

So a uniquely grotesque and censorial law, even by red state standards. I only appreciate that it lets me reference a great Parks & Rec episode.

Keeping Perspective on July 4th

As you may have seen, a federal judge in Louisiana has issued a sweeping injunction prohibiting all manner of communications between the Biden administration and social media companies which seek to tamp down on misinformation and conspiracies. In the first paragraph of a sprawling opinion, Judge Terry Doughty, a Trump appointee with a history of indulging the most extreme right-wing Republican theories, characterized the allegations as "arguably involv[ing] the most massive attack against free speech in United States' history."

Since it is the Fourth of July, I feel compelled to observe that we used to have in this nation laws which prohibited teaching Black people how to read. These prohibitions existed side-by-side with laws forbidding anti-slavery advocacy. I daresay that such laws represent a more "massive" assault on free speech than government efforts to convince social media outlets not to promote dangerous misinformation in the heart of a deadly pandemic (or, for that matter, seeking to persuade media outlets not to publish classified material they come to possess -- notwithstanding their clear First Amendment right to do so under the Pentagon Papers precedent. Which is to say, government tries to convince media actors not to publish things all the time, and absent actual coercion it is of no First Amendment concern).

The little King Georges who now dot the federal judiciary would do well to learn a little history (if such history can still lawfully be taught in Louisiana) and keep a sense of perspective.

FIRE's Proposed Anti-DEI Legislation is an Academic Freedom Trainwreck

FIRE (the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression -- formerly Foundation for Individual Rights in Education) is a controversial organization that works in a controversial area. By and large, though, I'm a FIRE defender -- I tend to think they get more right than wrong, and strive to be genuinely evenhanded in dealing with threats to academic freedom on campus.

But this makes it all the more striking to read their proposed model legislation targeting "DEI statements" at public universities. It is nothing short of an academic freedom trainwreck -- the sort of vague censorial tool that in most contexts FIRE would be blasting the alarm over. That it does not just endorse but drafted this disaster show is deeply worrisome and disconcerting.

I've written before trying to tease out the connection between DEI statements and (threats to) academic freedom before, which is far more complicated than groups like FIRE are letting on. The core problem is that while I absolutely agree that DEI statements can be used in abusive ways to create an ideological monoculture, it is actually very difficult to distinguish such statements from other arenas in which academic actors are asked to make normative assessments of their peers (for example, regarding teaching or scholarship) -- arenas which also are prone to ideological abuse. Almost inevitably, an "anti-DEI" rule that tries to have any teeth will put at risk basic practices of academic evaluation, and will do so regardless of any disclaimers to the contrary. This risk is only accentuated by the impossibly vague language that purports to distinguish licit versus illicit appraisals. And university bureaucrats who want to avoid potentially crippling financial liability (we'll get to that in a moment) are going to be very defensive regarding what is and is not permitted, inviting exactly the sort of administrative interference in academic affairs that FIRE purports to oppose.

When it comes to attempts to regulate DEI initiatives, my basic framework for evaluation is this. I assume that it cannot be the case that university actors are forbidden from caring about questions like "will the job candidate do a good job creating an equitable and inclusive environment for our diverse academic community" (if we are "forbidden from caring" about that, then the oppressive orthodoxy of the anti-DEI push is beyond dispute). So, assuming we're not "forbidden from caring", the question becomes "how can we, consistent with the anti-DEI regulation, permissibly elicit information to make an evaluation on that question?" And the subsidiary to that question is "what will the university or government bureaucrat in charge of compliance permit us to do to elicit information to make an evaluation on that question?" The former is a textual inquiry; the latter gets to the chilling effect of defensive bureaucracies seeking to avoid potentially millions in financial penalties. And for FIRE's anti-DEI legislation, the answers to these questions seem to be (a) I have no idea and (b) virtually nothing.

The core practice FIRE targets in its legislation are requirements that academic community members or job candidates "pledg[e] allegiance to or mak[e] a statement of personal support for or opposition to any political ideology or movement, including a pledge or statement regarding diversity, equity, inclusion, patriotism, or related topics." In addition, the law would forbid any institution from "request[ing] or requir[ing] any such pledge or statement from an applicant or faculty member" (notice that this would seemingly apply to interviews as well -- I could not ask a question that "requests" the candidate give a "statement" regarding their DEI-related practices).

Right from the outset, this is impossibly vague. Academia is, of course, beset with normative controversies. Some are very specific questions of disciplinary dispute ("Is originalism the best way to interpret the Constitution?"). But many are broad questions of academic mission. "Should university education be primarily vocational or academic in focus?" "What is the best way that professors can create a supportive learning environment for their students?" "What do you hope students will get out of your classes?"

These questions are contested, and often politically contested. For example, on university education as academic versus vocational, many conservatives contend that universities focus too heavily on hoity-toity theory and should instead concentrate on disciplines which prepare students for specific workplace jobs; liberals, by contrast, are more comfortable with the classic model of a liberal arts education where the project of learning and development is valuable even if it doesn't directly translate into a specific career arc. Are all of these questions qualifying "political ideologies or movements" that fall under the ambit of the law? If not, what conceptually distinguishes those questions from the seemingly-similar question "How do we render our institution equitable and inclusive to the diverse populations that we serve?" If the questions are identical in form, then the only basis for specifically banning DEI related questions is ideological hostility -- an imposition of state orthodoxy under the guise of pluralism.

One possible response is that the question is fine so long as it actually is a question, and does not dictate a particular answer. So if you ask "What is the best way that professors can create a supportive learning environment for their students," there are multiple ways to answer that question; the question does not require a "statement of personal support for or opposition to" any particular ideology, since the respondent is free to take any stance they like on the subject. By contrast, it would be problematic to ask job candidates to explain why the Socratic Method simply is the best way to create a supportive learning environment, since now they are being compelled to express support for a particular (pedagogical) ideological view, and we should be open to a diversity of positions on that subject.

Problem #1 with this response is that it's not clear that the model legislation permits even this, insofar as asking them to take any position on "supportive learning environments" arguably requires them to issue a "statement of personal support for" the practices they endorse, and opposition to the ones they reject. The law is vague as to whether it prohibits requiring candidates to endorse one favored view on an "ideology", or if it prohibits requiring candidates to simply present a view on the subject.  At least for DEI, the text points towards the latter -- the language prohibits requirements of statements "regarding" DEI or "related topics." So even an open-ended question which expressly invites multiple potential answers is forbidden if the subject matter of the question "relates" to DEI.

Problem #2 is that, assuming the model legislation does permit questions like "What is the best way that professors can create a supportive learning environment for their students" because they're open-ended and don't demand avowal of a particular ideological view, then it's unclear what distinguishes that sort of question from standard DEI statement questions. Contrary to popular belief, most DEI prompts do not take the form "explain why Derrick Bell is the greatest political theorist since Rousseau" (and if that sort of request is all that's being covered here, the law scarcely does anything at all). They are far more likely to be framed as something like "How do you propose making your institution equitable and inclusive to the diverse populations that we serve?" That question, too, can be answered in a multitude of ways, and so is not different in kind from all the other normative appraisal questions that are endemic to academic life (and which also can elicit strong views and significant political controversies).

In order to carve out a distinction for why DEI is different, one might make one of two arguments. The first is that although the DEI question is nominally open-ended, everyone knows that there is but one "right answer", and that answer is kowtowing to the politically-correct standards of the moment. To begin, I'm dubious that this is true at least in the strong form (there might be some answers generally thought of as wrong, but there is not only one answer accepted as right). I'm also skeptical that a complaint that is fundamentally about abusive-applications can justify prohibiting such questions as a class. I'll concede that it's probably true that a job candidate whose views on a given issue of concern are sharply at odds with their employers will be at a disadvantage in the process; I'll even concede that a flat unwillingness to even consider a contrary view is deeply malformed practice.  But that a candidate who answers a DEI question in a fashion at odds with prevailing sentiments may be at a comparative disadvantage to others cannot alone suffice to establish that the statements are being "abused" or that the statement's usage is tantamount to a desire to create a monoculture. The core risk -- dissidents are disadvantaged -- is always present for any normatively-laden assessment, it is not distinct to DEI. It exists for the academic job candidate whose views on pedagogy or research sharply diverge from the departmental line, it exists for that matter for the corporate job candidate whose views on business expansion break from the general consensus held by the executive leadership. Across the board, for any normatively-laden question, dissident candidates are probably at a disadvantage. If that fact is enough to justify banning an interview question, then we have a lot of questions to ban.

The second potential argument for why DEI questions are materially different is that the DEI question, while admitting multiple answers, still encodes certain values inside the question's very structure as presuppositions which an answer must tacitly endorse -- i.e., that values like "equity" and "inclusiveness" are in fact values the university should pursue. Someone who rejects the very premise will struggle to answer the question. But this "distinction" actually isn't one; similar presuppositions are likely embedded into most normative questions. "What is the best way that professors can create a supportive learning environment for their students," embeds a presupposition that professors should try to create a supportive learning environment; a candidate who rejects that premise (thinking, perhaps, that students learn best in a trial-by-fire academic Sparta) would likely be at disadvantage. Again, the objection here would cover far, far too much.

And at this point we do start to see FIRE unsuccessfully try to cabin its law's reach, with a provision contending that "Nothing in this Act prohibits an institution from considering, in good faith, a candidate's scholarship, teaching, or subject-matter expertise in their given academic field." Great verbiage; no idea how it works in practice. Suppose I, in good faith, believe that demonstrating capacity to work with and respond to issues of diversity, equity, and inclusion, is part of assessing a candidate's teaching (or, for that matter, scholarship or subject-matter expertise). Can I ask about that? I have no idea, but I suspect the answer is "no", notwithstanding this supposed carve-out. FIRE is I suspect embedding a normative presupposition of its own: that issues "related" to DEI never are in good faith connected to valid considerations of academic merit. But this position is very much a contested one -- I'd contest it -- and certainly should not be encoded into state law as legally-compulsory orthodoxy. Again, 90 times out of 100 FIRE would be screaming bloody murder about this sort of thing -- they are a victim of their own blindspots that they don't see how they're promoting exactly the sort of legislation they normally abhor.

And speaking of legislation -- we shouldn't conclude without talking about penalties for a moment. They have several different penalty formulations, but they all coalesce around proposing six-figure monetary fines "for each violation of the act." That's gigantic on its own, and certainly will counsel extreme defensiveness by university bureaucrats and lawyers regarding what faculty are and are not permitted to say in job interviews or other like forums on matters of DEI. The potential for censorial chilling is massive. But worse, the law does not tell us what counts as a single violation. A college posts hiring announcements across a dozen different departments, requesting application materials which are later determined to include Forbidden Questions. Is that one violation, or twelve? Probably twelve, meaning that a $300,000 fine just got converted into a $3.6 million fine. Or worse -- each of those job postings (based on what I know of the academic market) will likely get 250 applications. And since the structure of the act suggests that each individual applicant is separately injured by unlawful consideration of the Forbidden Questions -- well, 250 x 12 x $300,000 = Nine Hundred Million Dollars in potential liability. Given that exposure, you better believe that the university bureaucracy is going to be policing faculty hiring and promotion practices with a very fine-toothed comb to root out anything that could even possibly represent eliciting a statement "relating" to DEI as interpreted by whatever lickspittle Ron DeSantis has put in charge of oversight. And I guarantee you that the ensuing bureaucratic regime will be far more onerous, oppressive, and censorial than anything currently happening at the behest of DEI offices.

FIRE knows better than this. It knows that the strong arm of state regulation and compulsion is almost inevitably toxic to the free and open exchange of ideas on campus, and it knows that academic freedom means that it must be the academics themselves -- not bureaucratic meddlers, not state legislatures, not politically-appointed boards -- who get to decide how to appraise their peers and the requirements of their discipline. Some academics do not think that matters of DEI are germane to that assessment. Many others think they are quite germane, not because we demand all candidates adhere to the One True Path, but because I absolutely want to know that any potential member of my academic institution has at least thought critically and comprehensively on the subject of how to best create an equitable and inclusive environment for a diverse educational community. That interest of mine is no different than my wanting to know that they have thought on how to create supportive learning environments, or wanting to know that they have thought on how the important normative questions that are part of many research agendas. In terms of what conclusions they draw from that critical consideration, I'm willing to hear a wide range -- I don't have a single answer in mind that is the only acceptable conclusion. But it doesn't matter, because under FIRE's view if I try to elicit information on the wrong subjects I risk bankrupting the university. That can only have a censorial and chilling effect.

It is not possible to declare the topic of DEI a Legally Forbidden Question without doing catastrophic damage to academic freedom, and the manner in which this law proposes to enforce its prohibitions will inevitably generate a nightmarish cavalcade of bureaucratic censorship. To be blunt: Academic departments are absolutely entitled, as part of their discretion to determine how to assess disciplinary, pedagogical, or service-based standards, to decide how and to what extent questions relating to DEI are germane to their evaluative appraisals. I do not doubt there are departments that will exercise their discretion in a fashion that I would not approve of; I do not doubt that are departments that will exercise it ways I find impossibly narrow-minded and abusive. It does not matter: any state legislation which limits that fundamental prerogative of academic independence and faculty self-governance is a limit on academic freedom -- full stop. Problems of abuse, to the extent they exist, are not validly delegated to state legislatures, and FIRE absolutely knows better than to argue otherwise.

This legislation is a stain on FIRE's reputation. They should withdraw it, and they should reflect on just what it is about this issue that caused them to so flagrantly abandon their normal principles regarding academic freedom. That an organization that has done so much to fight for academic freedom is poised to usher in this sort of censorial dystopia is fiendish irony. One hopes they backtrack before it becomes reality.

"Talking to Minorities? Oooh... That's a Censorship."

Andrew Sullivan is worried about campus life.

If you're thinking that his musings are going to be an uncreative recycling of greatest-hits complaints about out-of-control student lefties utterly unmoored from any actual account of contemporary campus life, well, you'd be mostly right. 

We do get obligatory swipes at "microaggressions", and fury at accused sexual assailants being adjudicated under the exact same standard of proof they'd encounter were they sued in court (and a far more protective standard than they'd be entitled to in the workplace -- which is to say, there is one), and no less than three references to "cultural Marxism," which is always a good signal to turn one's ears off (on a New York Times editor's ambitions to be "intersectional", he writes aghast: "Does she understand that the very word intersectional is a function of neo-Marxist critical race theory?" Does he understand how many Marxists -- "neo-" or otherwise -- would choke to hear that?). 

Thankfully, Sullivan spares us a literal appeal to the First Amendment, but his invocations of its "spirit" appear to collapse "censorship" into "outgroups publicly disliking what I have to say", and delegitimizing their temerity is more or less the core thesis of the argument. Free exchange of ideas indeed.

But I confess that Sullivan did introduce me to one element of PC-culture that was genuinely new to me. These were the "sensitivity readers", by whom Sullivan tells us "Books are censored in advance ... to conform with 'social justice' protocols." 

Goodness, that sounds positively awful! But fortunately, Sullivan provided a link to educate us on the contours of this new threat. And there, we encountered a truly harrowing tale: a young-adult author who ... voluntarily reached out to a readers from a community she was writing about to elicit their reactions on her draft.* Yes, we've finally reached the stage where even speaking to outgroups is a form of "censorship". How indeed could the free exchange of ideas survive such terrors like ... talking to the sort of people you're writing about? (To be fair to Sullivan, there's an element of self-interest in play here: one highly doubts any of his ideas could survive the encounter).

There's something to be said about cultivating a spirit of open inquiry that goes beyond opposing de jure censorship. It should be obvious that "speaking with people different from yourself and modifying your views in the wake of the encounter" has very little to do with that spirit. But the larger problem writers like Sullivan obstinately fail to grasp is that part of open inquiry includes considering whether our positions or ideologies create or perpetuate injustices (whether against socially-identifiable outgroups or anyone else). If censorship can exist beyond the formal power of the state and includes leveraging social power to preemptively prevent certain views from being heard, than there's almost certainly no more committed censor in Sullivan's column than Sullivan himself.

* Admittedly, the article indicates that sometimes "sensitivity readers" are not hired directly by authors but rather provided by the publishing house. I can sympathize with how this may feel like "censorship" to a writer, but in our more sober moments we tend to call it by the more prosaic name of "editing".

Did Ann Coulter Really Want To Speak at Berkeley?

A few weeks ago, when Berkeley was slated to have back-to-back appearances by David Horowitz and Ann Coulter, I asked my students if they knew who either one of them was.

For Horowitz, the answer was a universal "no".

For Coulter, the mode answer was also "no", though one student offered that she was "like an older Tomi Lahren?"

My how the mighty have fallen. But of course, even long-since faded stars are entitled to attempt a comeback. So what better way to do so than through a high-profile act of martyrdom? Fortunately, despite their unknown status to the average Berkeley student, the Bay Area has an active "black bloc" community happy to oblige them. And so threats are made, and talks canceled, and somber reflections on illiberal universities published, and Horowitz and Coulter get to bask -- if briefly -- in the glow of being the bold truthsayers too raw for Berkeley snowflakes to handle. A return to the glory days, if you will.

But what if things didn't go according to that script?

Neither Ann Coulter, nor David Horowitz, were prohibited from speaking on campus. In both cases, they were offered a time and a place to speak at Berkeley; in both cases, it was they who declined that invitation. The statement from Chancellor Dirks -- who in my estimation has done a great job navigating very choppy waters on this issue -- provides a useful corrective to the prevailing media narrative and is worth reading in full. But an excerpt helps set the tone:

The strategies necessary to address these evolving threats [to free speech] are also evolving, but the simplistic view of some – that our police department can simply step in and stop violent confrontations whenever they occur – ignores reality.  Protecting public safety in these circumstances requires a multifaceted approach.  This approach must take into account the use of “time, place, and manner” guidelines, devised according to the specific threats presented.  Because threats or strategic concerns may differ, so must our approach.  In all cases, however, we only seek to ensure the successful staging of free speech rights; we make no effort to control or restrict the content of expression, regardless of differing political views. 

This is a University, not a battlefield. We must make every effort to hold events at a time and location that maximizes the chances that First Amendment rights can be successfully exercised and that community members can be protected. While our commitment to freedom of speech and expression remains absolute, we have an obligation to heed our police department’s assessment of how best to hold safe and successful events.

[...]

If UCPD believes there is a significant security threat attendant to a particular event, we cannot allow it to be held in a venue with a limited number of exits; in a hall that cannot be cordoned off; in an auditorium with floor to ceiling glass; in any space that does not meet basic safety criteria established by UCPD.  This is the sole reason we could not accommodate Ms. Coulter on April 27^th, and the very reason we offered her alternative dates in early May and September, when venues that satisfy safety requirements are available.

Contrary to some press reports and circulating narratives, the UC Berkeley administration did not cancel the Coulter event and has never prohibited Ms. Coulter from coming on campus.  Instead, we received a request to provide a venue on one single day, chosen unilaterally by a student group without any prior consultation with campus administration or law enforcement.  After substantial evaluation and planning by our law enforcement professionals, we were forced to inform the group that, in light of specific and serious security threats that UCPD’s intelligence had identified, there was no campus venue available at a time on that date where the event could be held safely and without disruption.  We offered an alternative date for the event (which was rejected) and offered to work with the group to find dates in the future when the event could occur. Throughout this process our effort has been to support our students’ desire to hold their event safely and successfully. 

Now to be 100%, crystal clear: Violence or disruption, or threats thereof, to prevent Ann Coulter's speech is wrong and unjustifiable (and was unjustifiable when used against Milo). Ditto had Berkeley sought to cancel Coulter's speech outright (which again, it did not do). The people who engage in such violence are engaging in a wrong -- a serious wrong, a wrong that is antithetical to norms of free speech and free inquiry -- even when the subject is someone like Ann Coulter. One can believe that while simultaneously believing that Ann Coulter is a repulsive White supremacist who deserves naught but our scorn. And so the threats that Chancellor Dirks refers to are threats that cut to the heart of a free academic community. They should be investigated, and they should be dealt with.

But UC-Berkeley did not make those threats. UC-Berkeley did not engage in that censorship. And the way Berkeley, as an institution, treated Coulter seems eminently reasonable. Clearly, Berkeley has an interest in ensuring the event goes off safely. Clearly, and as an institution committed to free speech, it has an interest in creating conditions where her speech occurs without incident, obstruction, or unlawful disruption. Clearly, it can impose reasonable time, place, and manner restrictions to try to limit the damage and obstruction that might be caused by those persons making unjustified threats and promising unlawful riots. Surely this is them taking the responsible course of action, yes?

Placing Ann Coulter "in a venue with a limited number of exits; in a hall that cannot be cordoned off; in an auditorium with floor to ceiling glass" is a recipe for free speech disaster (not to mention the budgetary disaster for Berkeley when the -- quite literal -- damage has been done). And while there are limits to what sorts of venue-restrictions one could impose without violating free speech -- obviously they couldn't stick her in a broom closet and "allow" the speech to proceed freely -- that's not what happened here. Berkeley made a reasonable effort to reasonably accommodate Coulter's speech while reasonably insisting that the speech occur in a time, place, and manner that didn't cause chaos. That's entirely consistent with our free speech tradition. That's Berkeley behaving responsibly in the face of community members who were threatening to behave irresponsibly, even criminally. That's Berkeley seeking to facilitate, not censor, Coulter's speech.

So why is it being interpreted otherwise? The argument seems to be that when Berkeley institutes any sort of specific procedures or guidelines to facilitate the free speech of controversial speakers likely to face illegitimate obstruction, it's "giving in" to threats -- or worse, tacitly endorsing them. To quote my old college buddy Jim Kiner: "This is America. Someone giving a speech shouldn't have to worry about the size of the windows." (Of course, it's not Coulter who has to worry about the windows -- they aren't hers to worry about. Ann Coulter can be blissfully indifferent regarding their fate. It's Berkeley -- the property-owner -- who's concerned, and it seems clearly reasonable for them to take limited steps to ensure that their property isn't destroyed in the wake of their indifferent houseguest's visit).

Can we say that, in a good world, Berkeley wouldn't need to have these procedures for managing threats to outside speakers because everyone would respect everyone else's right to speak unmolested? Yes (though in such a good world nobody would be inviting repulsive trolls like Coulter to speak in the first place). But the Berkeley-blame for all this is strange, bordering on bizarre. In a good world nobody would try to hijack an airplane. Sadly, we don't live in that world, and so the TSA has certain procedures designed to manage the threat of terrorist hijackings while allowing us to travel freely -- procedures we only need because some people behave unlawfully, wrongfully, terroristically. Those procedures can be debated as too lenient or too harsh, but I've yet to hear anyone say that by having them the TSA was tacitly endorsing or normalizing terrorism. Responding to the reality of an unjustified threat is not the same thing as justifying or legitimizing that threat. Berkeley has to live in the world that exists, not the world of its dreams, and when it does so it doesn't endorse our fallen state. Rioters are wrong for rioting, but Berkeley is not wrong for taking reasonable steps to account for living in a world where rioting happens.

Which brings us back to the question in the title: Did Ann Coulter really want to speak at Berkeley? Does she really want Berkeley to succeed in creating a space for her to speak without obstruction, disruption, or incident? I'm dubious. She came to Berkeley because she wanted to be a martyr -- either canceled outright or censorially disrupted. For Berkeley to succeed in offering her a space where none of that would happen thwarts her goals. After all, accepting Berkeley's terms would mean that her speech would likely not be shut down, or disrupted, or even been particularly noteworthy. It would have to attract attention solely by the merits of her ideas. No wonder she found it unacceptable.

This, in fact, is what happened with Horowitz. He too was offered a different venue -- one which promised that his speech would be able to occur freely, without incident or disruption, and receiving only so much attention as was warranted by his fame, merit, and talent. And once that became the deal, his booking agent decided (I know this from first-hand sources) that the new offer to speak -- one which was unlikely to spark massive protests or demonstrations, but would simply allow his talk to occur in peace -- was unworthy of his time. What's the point of coming to Berkeley if you're not going to get run out of town?

And so here were see the horns of the dilemma Berkeley finds itself in. On the one hand, it is facing a community (often not primarily comprised of students) which behaves in ways which are censorial and intolerable towards particular viewpoints (that these viewpoints are fairly characterized as racist ones does not justify said censorship). And so it takes steps to counteract these violent tendencies and ensure that its doors nonetheless remain open to speakers of all sorts, even the most repulsive ones, without incident. But then it discovers that actually, many of these speakers desire nothing more than to be "censored", to be "shut down", to be the proof of the intolerant liberal campus and the censorial lefties who can't handle their ideas. The worst thing that could happen to them is a Berkeley which successfully manages to enable their speech without incident. The whole point is for there to be an "incident". The whole point is to become a martyr.

And so if they're not "censored," they'll just drop out and say they were anyway. And their gullible followers will eat it up.

My How the Pendulum Swings

A professor at Arizona State permitted his students to hold a protest on an issue of their choice as their final project. Students elect to do so. Conservative commenters view this as inappropriate. Said commenters then demanded that the university take official action against the students. Awaiting soul-searching think pieces from other conservative intellectuals about growing illiberalism in their community, how, even if one disagrees with the decision of the professor or the students, it clearly falls within the parameters of academic freedom and First Amendment protected activity, and how the way to respond to speech one dislikes is with more speech etc. etc. in 3 ... 2 ... forever ....

The thing is, conservative discourse about American academia swings, pendulum like, between "college is a cesspool of leftists indoctrination which must be stamped out" and "college is about encountering difficult ideas and if you don't like it, you hate freedom." Some people have the courage of their convictions. Most people are rather fair-weather.

The New Charles Murray, For Those Who Don't Know Him

A group of researchers decided to circulate a copy of Charles Murray's Middlebury College speech -- without saying who it was by -- in order to measure how readers gauged its political valence (did they think it was a liberal speech, a conservative speech, or a centrist speech?). They found that, without knowing who it was by, their sample of college professors viewed it as rather middle-of-the-road (5.05 on a 1-9 scale, where 1 is very conservative and 9 is very liberal). They also sent different portions of the speech to a random online sample group; averaging their responses together the speech got a 5.22 rating. Finally, they sent the speech to another group of college professors -- this time telling them Murray was the author. With that knowledge they rated the speech at 5.77 -- still basically "middle-of-the-road", albeit apparently more conservative by a statistically significant amount.

I'm actually not too surprised by this: my understanding is that Murray's recent work on American class divisions is not particularly conservative and certainly not as inflammatory as The Bell Curve's musings on race/IQ linkages. I would genuinely be curious about how readers would label the controversial portions of The Bell Curve under this methodology, mostly because I'm curious how most of us would "code" arguments of that sort given contemporary political dynamics.

I do think there was some obscurantism -- sometimes deliberate -- regarding what Murray was going to be talking about at Middlebury and in other lectures. His challenged lectures were not going to be about The Bell Curve, which is widely discredited in the academic literature, but about this new class-related research, which has not been the subject of such scholarly disdain and which seems on face to fall well within the normal range of academic discourse. My initial instinct is that there's something off-putting about protesting a speaker not for what they will say, but for what they had said years ago that they will not be talking about in this lecture.

That said, I suspect part of what's going on is the idea that for a certain type of white conservative intellectual, it is impossible to discredit yourself such that you're no longer deemed a worthy entrant into public conversation; whereas for many outgroups there's a "one strike and you're out" standard where they are forever haunted by bad speeches, books, or ideas they propagated years ago (witness the treatment of Keith Ellison). The protests are an expression of the frustration that -- as Matt Yglesias put it -- "Charles Murray ... manages to be a best-selling author, in-demand speaker, have a think tank gig and be a free speech martyr."

None of this excuses illiberal modes of shutting down speech (see my endorsement of Jill Filopovic's column following the Middlebury event). But I think we can hold multiple thoughts at the same time:

1. That Charles Murray's Bell Curve work is widely discredited and generally thought of as racist claptrap;
2. That Charles Murray's present work -- what he currently lectures on -- is not particularly politically polarizing (and -- perhaps this is the more controversial point -- that someone who produces racist claptrap can also produce interesting arguments which fall entirely into the accepted range of ongoing political controversies);
3. That many people are not like Charles Murray in that we have no interest in ever looking past their bad statements, and it is not shall we say random who gets to make comebacks and who is permanently haunted by their past; and
4. That, however we choose to manage the tensions elucidated by observations 1 through 3, certain types of remedies (like governmental censorship or censorial disruptions) are off the table as violations of free academic inquiry.

Everything But the Shoutdown

The West Wing discusses an attempt to thread the needle between abstinence-only sex education and, well, realism by preaching "everything but." My old blogosphere mate Jill Filopovic has a very good piece in Cosmopolitan Magazine regarding how to respond to controversial speakers that basically endorses "everything but" shouting them down, obstructing them, or otherwise actually blocking them from speaking.

Free speech doesn’t mean that everyone deserves a platform to speak — the fact that Middlebury has never invited me for a speaking gig does not violate my free speech rights. Nor does it entitle you to an audience — if no one attends a neo-Nazi’s speech, his rights have not been violated. And free speech also doesn’t mean that people have the right to speak without protest or consequence — peacefully protesting a talk by Yiannopoulos may be strategically foolish, given that his whole schtick is being seen as an embattled anti-PC voice, but people can push back against his words without threatening the concept of free speech itself. Nor do other forms of challenging hateful speech through words or expression — silently turning one’s back on a graduation speaker, writing an op-ed criticizing the College Republicans club for inviting a racist to campus, chanting and holding signs outside the event, challenging the speaker with difficult questions, or planning a competing event as a way to demonstrate where a community’s values lie are all practiced, real-life responses to bigots invited to campus.

[...] 

But no matter how terrible someone is, you don’t compromise your own most deeply held values to shut them down. You ignore them, you speak out against them, you protest them, but you don’t set things on fire or threaten their safety or prevent them from speaking. You model a better way. 

I encourage you to read it. I also encourage you to read the first sentence of the excerpted portion over again, because I can't count the number of people who have responded to Jill by saying "nobody is entitled to a platform."

Berkeley's Partially Pregnant Protests

There's an old saying that a woman cannot be "partially pregnant". Either she is, or she isn't. I'm not sure it's impossible to have a "partially peaceful protest", but at the very least it is obvious that a few well-positioned agitators can, if they choose, subvert the peaceful desires of the majority and make a nonviolent protest violent.

When Milo's speech was announced at Berkeley, I took the boring position of agreeing with Chancellor Dirks' statement more-or-less down the line: It is true that, upon invitation by a legitimate college organization Milo had the right to speak and Berkeley had no authority to block him. It is also true that the decision by the Berkeley College Republicans to invite him speaks volumes about their character as an organization, and they can rightfully be condemned for their choice.

As many of you know, Milo's speech was eventually canceled as the protest turned violent -- apparently at the instigation of a small group of "black bloc" anarchists who were filmed attacking police, property, and bystanders. It is unclear at this point how many of this cadre are themselves Berkeley students -- they may be, but it is also the case that the East Bay has a significant "homegrown"  anarchist set which is well aware that it can get a lot more attention for its antics if it performs them on our campus. "Unclear" means "unclear": it may be that most of the violent actors were Berkeley students, it may be that virtually none of them were. But there is little controversy that most of the people protesting were not violent nor were they interested in utilizing violence. It is also very clear that the violence was not only against property; while I don't think that in of itself should matter, I have seen some smarmy posts that have ignored the interpersonal elements of the "black bloc" attacks.

It shouldn't surprise you that I am deeply opposed to the violent silencing that went on here. Yet I think it is worth unpacking exactly who was silenced here. Milo was, certainly, and that was wrong -- even though he's a repulsive little troll who never should have been invited in the first place. But it's also the case that the majority of protesters had a message they wish to express that was also violently erased. Violent protests and non-violent protests express different messages; here, the few who imposed the former subverted the speech of the latter. To act as if the former and the latter were simply one indistinct entity -- the "protest" -- is to give a violent minority an authority and authenticity they do not deserve. And to speak as if the only "victim" of the violence last night was Milo or those who wanted to hear him speak is to facilitate the very deliberate erasure that the "black bloc" -- and the right-wing media, for that matter -- wishes to impose upon the majority.

The fact of the matter is that there were three speeches scheduled at Berkeley last night. One was by a racist, misogynist, hateful right-wing troll. One was by a group of bandana-clad rabble-rousers who wanted to (in the words of their banner) "become ungovernable" through violent suppression. And one was by a community resolved to peacefully tell the first speaker that his views were not welcome at Berkeley.

The last one was the one with majority support. But the middle one was the only one we ended up hearing.

Generosity for Thee....

Jonathan Haidt has a post in the Heterodox Academy arguing, in response to student protests at Yale and other colleges, for "generosity of spirit." This is how he characterizes this virtue:

Philosophers often advocate what they call “the principle of charity.” It means that in any discussion we interpret others people’s statements in the way that makes their argument strongest, not weakest. We give them the benefit of the doubt, rather than trying to twist their words to support the ugliest possible implications.

I don't have any intrinsic objection to this. In fact, I rather like generosity of spirit in this respect. I think we should try to encounter other people on their strongest terms, and that we shouldn't reduce conversation into a search for bad motives.

But I do have to ask if this is a virtue Haidt embodies when it comes to his "others." For when Haidt talks about the current generation of students and the grievances they air, he does not seem particularly generous. They are presented as spoiled millennial brats, perpetually making mountains out of molehills, incapable of grasping basic concepts regarding freedom of speech, willfully ignorant of what "real" oppression is, unable to handle any dissonance to their worldview penetrating their perfectly serene and coddled "safe spaces", and so far removed from  civilized modes of reasoning that they've created an entirely new "culture of victimhood" to inhabit. Is this "generosity of spirit"? Is this an genuine effort to "make[] their argument strongest, not weakest"?

We can push further to see a more fundamental problem in Haidt's outlook: it comes with an implied "unless the argument is about racism, sexism, or other like -isms" exception. These arguments are viewed as inherently violative of a "principle of charity"; simply by invoking them one steps outside the boundaries of "generosity of spirit" and therefore forfeits the right to receive due consideration. This is what allows such claims to be responded to in ways that, on the face of it, in no way can be harmonized with principles of charity. I tried to make this point in my Playing with Cards article:

The bad faith charge [leveled against discrimination claimants] ... is precisely an allegation that the claimant is engaging in a deceptive, malicious, and opportunistic game designed to browbeat her interlocutor into agreement. And contrary to the respondents’ allegation, this same sin is not (or at least not necessarily) fairly attributed to those who claim discrimination. A claim of racism, sexism, or anti-Semitism need not come attached to any assertion of insincerity or bad faith. This is because the contours of discrimination are not exhausted by the intentions of the speaker. It is a perfectly valid discursive request to interrogate potential injustices lurking within positions honestly taken and passionately felt. To reduce such inquiry to a mere search for hidden motivations is to dramatically circumscribe justice-talk generally.

Were Haidt serious about applying his generosity of spirit principle evenhandedly, I think he'd arrive at a very different descriptor of what is motivating the student protesters at various campuses. It would concede the possibility that the students are responding to genuine, not overwrought, feelings of alienation and discrimination. It would acknowledge the possibility that they had in fact grappled with the standard academic arguments in the relevant areas, and that perhaps they had endeavored to articulate their concerns within the standard deliberative language and had been stymied. It would not race to the conclusion that they were only acting the way they were because they were sociopathic or sadistic; that they enjoyed heaping angst on others for its own sake or that they are presenting their claims in this particular way because they are too unsophisticated to do so in any other way.

None of this, it bears noting, requires endorsing any or all of the actual stylistic or substantive choices the protesters are making. Indeed, there are quite a few of them I have serious problems with -- I have deep skepticism about the some of the rhetoric surrounding free speech, and as a rule I don't like political discourse taking the form of surrounding a target and screaming at them. This is a tough line to walk: it's what I tried to get at in my Yale reconsideration post. The defect of my original post was not that I failed to endorse particular tactics or conclusions of the Yale protesters, it's that I jumped from "I don't endorse particular tactics or conclusions of the Yale protesters" to "they must have arrived at those conclusions because they're intellectually sloppy." The generosity of spirit, which I tried to embody in the follow-up, would be to explain why I had reservations regarding their positions without relying on an uncharitable assumption that they were simply bad at reasoning for disagreeing with me.

Now, one could charge me with that old paradox of "tolerating the intolerant": I'm saying we must give the student protesters the benefit of charitable interpretation even as they allegedly display no such generosity towards the targets of their investigation. I say "allegedly" because I do not think such ungenerousness is present in all cases; as the quote from my article suggests I think it is quite possible to argue that a given belief or practice is oppressive without suggesting that the holder of it is being dishonest or unthinking in adopting it, and I think frequently the claim that such arguments constitute a personal attack is in fact a defensive move designed to remove such claims from the ambit of legitimate discussion deserving reasoned responses. But certainly, I agree that some of the claims do seem to evince a lack of charity, so no more on that.

Yet even here, note how one-sided the complaint is. After all, the argument of the protesters is identical in structure: "why," they ask, "should we have to 'tolerate' the intolerance of persons making racist remarks or employing crude racial caricatures?" There, of course, the response is to say that liberalism demands that we defeat their bad claims with good ones, and moreover, that we assume that their bad claims aren't simply a matter of irredeemably defective souls but perhaps come from good intentions and good places that can be reasoned with. So it seems a similar degree of "tolerance" should be extended to those students who are, at least some of the time in my view, making bad arguments -- the response shouldn't be to intone portentously about how kids these days don't understand the importance of free dialogue (much less to scream about how maybe they'd like things better in North Korea). Here, too, we could say that bad claims should be met with good claims, even as free speech allows them to make bad claims (as my former professor Geoff Stone rightly observes, it is a bedrock principle of free speech that even arguments demanding the curtailment or abolition of free speech are nonetheless protected by free speech, so long as they stay in the realm of arguments).

Again, it's not that I don't like generosity of spirit or interpreting with charity. I think they're both good values, and I think they're underappreciated values. But they are values whose absence is very easy to see in our adversaries but difficult to recognize in ourselves. I certainly wish that many of the students in question showed more charity towards their interlocutors; but that same principle advises that I should assume that maybe the reasons they're not being so generous in spirit is more complicated than raw defects in character.

Academic Freedom versus Academic Legitimacy: The UNC Case

At the tail end of 2013, I published a very short essay in the Florida International University Law Review entitled Academic Freedom versus Academic Legitimacy. The goal of the essay was to disentangle two oft-conflated concepts, both of which are intuitively important and both of which express exceptionally important academic values.

The first of these is "academic freedom": the right of persons within the academic community to forward any idea -- no matter how outlandish, offensive, or controversial -- without facing formal sanction or punishment. The second is "academic legitimacy": the belief that ideas presented in academic concepts should generally be good, interesting, well-reasoned, or thought-provoking, and that correspondingly where the academic community forwards poorly-reasoned or outlandish ideas, something has malfunctioned. "Academic legitimacy" does not entail agreement; there are many ideas which are perfectly "legitimate" -- in the sense of being thoughts that usefully forward an intellectual discussion -- that many people disagree with.

If, for example, a geology professor brought in a flat-earther to speak, we would presumably think that they had failed in an important scholarly aspect by acting as if flat-earthism was even "in-bounds" as something worth presenting in an academic context. This isn't (just) because we think flat-earthism is "wrong", it's because it is not a useful contributor to a reasonable conversation about geology. And this belief would hold even as academic freedom constrained the remedy -- we could not fire or otherwise discipline the professor. Holding this distinction is critical on both sides of the equation: Saying something is academically illegitimate (even if correct) does not justify abridging their academic freedom, but alleging that something is academically illegitimate does not constitute a violation of academic freedom (even if incorrect).

In my article, I note that what is and isn't "academically legitimate" will be contested, and offer several examples of potential speakers whom we might debate over. These ranged from BDS activists and the Black Panthers to David Horowitz and Gilad Atzmon. On this blog, I've applied this idea to two recent controversies: the hiring and unhiring of Steven Salaita by the University of Illinois, and the hosting of a talk at NYU law school by anti-vaccination activist Robert Kennedy Jr..

In Professor Salaita's case, I argued that while academic freedom principles may demand that we object to his "unhiring", this in no way should entail sanctioning some of the horrific anti-Semitic comments he made on Twitter. Too many people were combining these cases, saying that he should be reinstated and that his comments were perfectly innocuous, and grouping both under the mantle of "academic freedom". But only the former part is -- the question about whether his comments were benign "criticism of Israel" or repulsive anti-Semitism is an academic legitimacy question -- it has no bearing on the academic freedom issue. Likewise, with NYU "academic freedom" means that whichever member(s) of the NYU community invited Kennedy ought not be punished or disciplined, and should not have been prospectively barred from issuing the invitation. Nonetheless, I think most of us feel that something went wrong when the invitation was extended. A member of a university the caliber of NYU should not think that anti-vaccination conspiracies are a legitimate topic of debate. Put simply, NYU community members should do better than that in picking their speakers.

All of this leads up to a recent editorial in the Daily Tarheel, the University of North Carolina's student newspaper, which has been getting far more negative attention than I think it deserves, primarily based on the same conflation I observed in my article. The editorial takes note of two recent speeches given at UNC and Duke by David Horowitz and Mitt Romney, respectively, who were invited by the local College Republican chapters. The editorial makes it absolutely clear that it does not support a ban on their speeches. Rather, it suggests that both speakers had "little intellectual heft to back up their cultural prominence," and did little "to promote serious discussions about controversial issues." In Horowitz's case, this was due to their appraisal of Horowitz as basically a racist hatemonger. In Romney's case, the criticism was more specific -- he was speaking on foreign policy, an arena in which he has no special background or expertise, and his talk was allegedly just a litany of partisan talking points rather than anything of significant substance. The editors suggested that the host of the event, Duke Professor and former Bush administration national security official Peter Feaver, would have actually provided an interesting and intellectually sophisticated (and, I'd add given his background, conservative) foreign policy address.

Since the editorial explicitly did not call for any ban, oversight, disciplinary action, or any other restriction on the groups which invited Horowitz and Romney (and in fact affirmed their right to speak on campus), theirs was an academic legitimacy critique, not an academic freedom one. Like the criticisms of NYU following the anti-vaccination presentation, the editorial urges that College Republicans do a better job picking speakers that will significantly advance scholarly debate. I'll tip my hand here and say that I agree with them in the case of Horowitz and disagree with respect to Romney, and I'll go into more detail on that in a moment (specifically, on why the case of a prominent politician's political speeches is in fact a debatable case).

But there were many, many people -- my friend Yair Rosenberg, Popehat, a Texas Supreme Court Justice, among others -- who contended that the editorial pressed for a "ban" on conservative speakers, or "pre-approval", or was an "Orwellian" attack on free speech. And they're wrong. And they're badly misreading the argument. The column does not endorse, and in fact specifically rejects, any abridgment of anybody's free speech rights in the course of its critique of the speaker-selection.

One response I got from some quarters upon making this observation was quite straightforward: the UNC editors are lying. They say they respect the free speech rights of the speakers, but they don't mean it -- if given the chance, they'd support prohibiting them outright. For starters, this is no way to have a discussion -- assuming that one's interlocutor is lying so as to avoid the awful possibility that they actually don't disagree with you. There's also nothing in their argument that suggests an internal inconsistency -- the position they're forwarding, that groups are free to select whatever speakers they want at their discretion but they should in the exercise of that discretion select intellectually serious people, is theoretically perfectly intelligible (even if we disagree over who is or isn't intellectually serious). Finally, the fact that they specifically recommend a different Republican (Feaver) as an example of someone who would be intellectually serious is evidence that their position is not simply a fig-leaf for banning speech they disagree with.

A few people tried to buttress this inference of insincerity by referencing other malign movements on college campuses that do explicitly call for censorship of "hate speech" or "triggering" ideas. But the presence of such forces makes it more imperative that we disaggregate those students who respond to disagreeable speech in the right way -- by arguing that it is bad speech and urging that it be replaced with better speech, while forswearing illegitimate instruments like formal speech restrictions.

Another argument I heard a lot was that even urging a group like the College Republicans to "voluntarily" recalibrate their assessment of what sorts of speakers are worthwhile is a form of censorship. Some people tied this argument to the aforementioned presumption that the "voluntary" part was a fiction, but many seemed to honestly believe that arguing in opposition to the College Republicans appraisals, and asking them appraise differently (better), was in of itself a form of censorship. This argument is nothing short of bizarre. Unless one offers an open-mic night or selects speakers by lot, the decision to invite a particular speaker obviously entails an appraisal of their quality. That's presumably why Mitt Romney the politician was invited instead of Mitt the audiovisual specialist -- the former is the sort of person who would give an interesting, informative, and intellectually stimulating talk. The latter would be unlikely to. The editorial is a claim that the group's appraisal was flawed, and they should try to improve it. Now, maybe that's wrong -- in fact I think it is, at least with respect to Romney -- but it's not a form of censorship.

Indeed, this position might the most dangerous from the standpoint of encouraging people to dissent by disagreeing, rather than by resort to actual censorship. When some folks try to promote censorship and say we should ban the speech we don't like, the common (and correct) response is to tell them that's the wrong remedy. The right remedy is to argue that the speech is wrong and try and persuade their fellows to adopt a different, better position. We might, of course, disagree on which positions are right, but that's the terrain in which the debate should be hashed out. But if people do exactly that and are told it is in fact tantamount to censorship, that's suggestive that the objection actually isn't to formal efforts to "ban" disagreeable speech, but to the speech being challenged at all.

Finally, some folks argued that the real problem was that the editorial was one-sided -- that it viewed only conservative speakers, and even a very mainstream conservative like Mitt Romney, as academically illegitimate. The allegation is that the student editors, in appraising what sorts of speakers say intellectually serious things, are biased. They mistake "conservative" for "unserious". Under this view, we might say that it's not the College Republicans who need to reassess what they consider to be academically legitimate, but the editors of the Daily Tarheel.

Importantly, while this argument may have force, it's not a censorship argument. It is a line-drawing argument. If the invited speaker had been, say, a Klan Wizard, nobody would be saying "they're biased -- they only criticized inviting Klansmen!" That we all agree that it would be perfectly proper to criticize a group that invited a Klansman, and to suggest that (notwithstanding their right to extend such invitations) they should exercise their discretion in a more thoughtful fashion the next time around, is evidence that we don't actually believe in the second objection ("persuasion efforts = censorship") and our problem here is a substantive one -- we think that (at least) Mitt Romney is not the sort of speaker who should be objected to as academically illegitimate, and we think the best explanation for why someone would think he is so objectionable is a mind clouded by political bias.

Now, even though this is not a "censorship" problem, this sort of behavior would still be worrisome. We should worry about ideological self-segregation and biased appraisals of discomforting evidence. Everything we know about motivated cognition suggests this is a real phenomenon. It is a different sort of problem than one centered on "free speech" or "censorship", and so framing the debate in those terms is misleading at best. But that does not mean this hypothesis isn't worth considering, just that even if proven it would not demonstrate any free speech failing on the part of the students (which, of course, is the core of the critique -- political bias is a much more mundane sort of failure than brute censorship justified by an Orwellian invocation of free speech).

Before we go running off with this sweeping conclusion of unchecked political bias, though, it's worth taking stock of the evidence. The opinion piece cites a grand total of three cases. One of them (Horowitz) I think some of the column's critics (e.g., Yair) agree could be validly indicted as academically illegitimate. Moreover, we know that the newspaper does not actually object to having any conservative speak -- it specifically said it believed that Professor Feaver would have been excellent. Basically, what we know is that the editors found two conservative speakers unserious, one (potential) conservative speaker serious, and zero liberal speakers either serious or unserious. I'm not exactly a crack social scientist, but even I know better than to draw a robust conclusion from an n of 3. Given such a small sample size, breaking down what it would mean to demonstrate a lack of bias only illuminates the absurdity. Instead of a 1-0 scoreboard, would writing a single column critiquing two liberal speakers (thus tying the game at 1-1) count? One tweeter claimed that the alleged failure of the paper to condemn Bill Bradley's 2000 commencement address was evidence of the double-standard. A compelling argument ... except that the current editors of the Tarheel were all of 5 years old when that happened.

By far the most compelling argument supporting the "political bias" position is that their critique incorporated Mitt Romney -- not a David Duke, not even a David Horowitz, not an extremist or fringe figure of any sort, but a perfectly mainstream member of the Republican Party. As I mentioned, this is the point where I get off the Tarheel's train, but even here I don't think their position is transparently ludicrous nor solely attributable to ideological blinders. To explain why, indulge me in one more story.

When I was an undergraduate, I almost never attended talks delivered by politicians. This was not because I was politically incurious (I started this blog even before I entered Carleton). And it wasn't because I was averse to hearing competing viewpoints -- the first publication I wrote for was Carleton's conservative outlet (the Carleton Observer), and for quite some time I was a co-panelist on KRLX's political debate talkshow (a 2v2 conservative versus liberal format). Rather, I didn't attend because I found such talks to be breathtakingly boring. The claims and arguments presented were not intellectually rigorous, they were sophists, purveyors of partisan drivel designed to rev up a crowd or score cheap points. I never felt like I was learning anything useful from them about the best policies on the topic d'jour. They were, in short, intellectually unserious. And so I thought it was a waste of time to listen to them. I'd have rather we brought in real thinkers -- conservative or liberal. And whether they showed up or not, I certainly read them on my own time (my senior thesis was predominantly inspired by a major conservative legal theorist, Michael McConnell).

Now some of this is tempermental to me -- there is a reason why, despite my keen interest in political issues, I chose an academic route while elected office has never held the slightest appeal. I never joined and had no affiliation with the Carleton Democrats for precisely this reason -- party speech, organization, and activism was to me a paradigmatic example of doing political debate poorly, and I wanted no part of it. I know I'm not the only person who thinks like this -- whose first instinct upon seeing that a politician (of whichever party) is speaking is to roll their eyes. This is often true for people I nominally agree with as well as those I don't.

The Daily Tarheel did not argue that Mitt Romney was inherently incredible or that someone with his politics is obviously unserious. Its argument was twofold: first, that Romney has no particular foreign policy expertise, and two, that the speech he actually gave was pure political pageantry that contributed nothing to any serious foreign policy understanding. The latter part, no doubt, is not unique to Mr. Romney or persons of his party -- most politicians speak like that most of the time. It's their job. But in academic environments maybe we should expect more of ourselves, and look to people who can provide more than a grandstand.

The counterargument to this -- and what I ultimately find persuasive -- is that someone with Mr. Romney's background is "interesting" no matter what substantive views he presents, simply because it is useful to know what major politicians or world leaders think (even if, depressingly, the answer is "they think in terms of cute soundbites and platitudes"). Mitt Romney is meaningfully distinct from other persons who talk in terms of cute soundbites and platitudes, because he's Mitt Romney -- former presidential candidate and influential Republican. That, for me, is sufficient to render his talk academically legitimate -- it is a useful part of an interesting intellectual discussion simply because there are important intellectual discussions to be had about what major world leaders and politicians are saying about important issues. But the opposing position outlined above is one that I would have had a lot of sympathy for as an undergraduate, and not for any partisan reason. I don't think we do ourselves a favor when we pretend that political talking points packaged for a 30 second TV clip represent the best we can do in terms of policy reasoning.

I phrased this last issue as a motivated cognition story, and I should add that I think that's still very likely to be in play here. For example, motivated cognition may make liberals more likely to think that a Romney speech is pure useless talking point, while a Obama speech is perhaps a mix of interesting information and partisan drivel. That's obviously worth watching out for, and it's important. It reflects a serious problem across all of public deliberation that extends way beyond the editorial staff of one college newspaper.

But this debate has been framed in terms of censorship, in terms of free speech, in terms of banning thoughts that we don't like. And that is a misreading of the editorial and grossly unfair to its authors. These persons were quite clear that they had no quarrel with the academic freedom rights of the College Republicans or the persons they chose to invite. They criticized their intellectual contributions and suggested that other speakers would be more beneficial participants in the debate. They may be wrong on the merits. But they framed the debate along the right dimensions, and conflating a substantive line-drawing disagreement with the fight against censorship is a dangerous mistake to make.

Can't Stop the Censorship Train

Two more entries on my recent fascination with free speech and the private sphere. Unfortunately, these are not exactly of the highest quality.

The first is an atypically bad post from Ken White, arguing against calls by Professor Thane Rosenbaum to take a more European (read: stricter) approach towards "hate speech". White takes significant issue with the famous Oliver Wendell Holmes quote that one may not falsely shout "fire" in a crowded theater. White is fair to note that this rhetoric was originally deployed not to defend a speech restriction which was responsive to such a clear and present danger, but rather to uphold considerably more authoritarian restrictions around World War I. Which, fair enough, and fair enough to note Holmes' later repudiation of those cases. But I don't think Holmes (or White, for that matter) ever disavowed the literal statement at issue -- free speech would not protect that false cry of fire in a crowded theater. Which is to say, we do prohibit certain types of speech in certain types of contexts. That doesn't answer the question of scope, but it does throw a crimp on simply relying on a mythical absolutist defense of speech. To say that by quoting that language " you're echoing the rhetoric of a tyranny-cheerleader whose logic was later abandoned by everyone, including himself" goes way, way too far.

Ultimately, White's conclusion -- that prohibitions on hate speech are more likely to oppress rather than defend minorities -- is the strongest point in favor his position. But he hardly needs to take the detours he does to get there.

Meanwhile, Jenny Jarvie has one of those annoying columns that comes so close to making an important point, only to swerve away into inanity. She writes about a local Atlanta magazine whose editor -- known to be a provocateur -- wrote a really offensive column about a recently deceased pillar of the community who happened to be widely beloved by most of the magazine's core readership. Backlash ensued, including many people boycotting the magazine, which now is at risk of going under.

Jarvie characterizes the question as boycotters wanting to "silence" the magazine. Which, well, no and yes. In the literal sense, nobody is being "silenced", they're just being ignored -- the problem being that a media outlet that's ignored is a media outlet that soon will go out of business. But at some level, the entire point of the market place of ideas is to replace bad ideas with better ones. In that sense we should hope that horrible, offensive comments are "silenced" -- silenced by the fact that they don't have an audience willing to pay for them or a constituency willing to stand by them. If the marketplace of ideas doesn't accomplish that, what's the point? It is frankly bizarre to act as if it is a bad thing when people, through naught but the power of private persuasion, are moved to refrain from airing horrible ideas and encouraged instead to voice better ones.

What Jarvie almost gets at but never quite goes into is the sense that the community wants to "punish" the editor for saying such horrible things, but does not want it to go so far as to destroy his entire magazine. Punishment is deserved, but proportionate punishment, and the worry is that the train has gotten out of control. And this is an interesting problem. The private sphere can regulate bad behavior, but only quite bluntly. Many of the persons boycotting the magazine would probably not, if given the power, decree that it should go bankrupt -- they view the punishment they're ordaining as symbolic criticism (appropriate and proportionate) rather than an economic death sentence (disproportionate). We don't have a way of controlling for the effects of aggregation, and that's a big problem. Ironically, government is far, far better at this -- by maintaining a monopoly on sanction, they can make punishments more precise and ultimately more just. Which isn't to say that the government should step in such cases -- as noted above, there are lots of good reasons why that's a bad idea -- but it might be a ledger mark in its favor.