By George Neumayr on 2.11.05 @ 1:08AM
Academia's last defense in the Ward Churchill affair is that students benefit from being taught by the mentally challenged.
What passes for profundity on the left as it navigates its way
through the Ward Churchill controversy is Voltaire's fatuous line,
"I am willing to fight to the death for your right to express your
belief freely." Shorn of its mindless piety, this position
essentially means that people have a right to lie. Voltaire's line
should read, "I am willing to fight to the death for your right to
tell lies." It doesn't sound as grand and compelling then. It
sounds absurd.
Ward Churchill is a faker and liar beyond caricature. But modern
academia's notion of "academic freedom" is so hollow and useless
that it extends even to him. Notice that the entire discussion
about Churchill is framed in terms of "his rights," as if
universities exist primarily to provide platforms for jobless
grifters to feed students lies. Forming students in truth -- a very
quaint notion at this point, I know -- is supposed to be the
organizing principle of a university. So shouldn't ensuring that
students aren't taught by liars be the first, not the last,
consideration here?
Shouldn't the welfare of students determine the outcome of this
controversy? To the extent that administrators even weigh this
responsibility, they do so in the most shamelessly superficial
manner. Struggling for a rationale to keep a barbarian on staff,
they will say that exposure to odious ideas is a good learning
experience, a rationale they never resort to when a reviled
conservative's work is at issue.
On Wednesday night, CNN's Aaron Brown discussed the Ward
Churchill controversy with guest Dahlia Lithwick of Slate.com. He
asked a question of her that produced a perfect description of
modern universities. Brown: "Just on the face of it academic
freedom ought to embrace even dumb things, I suppose. Is that
right?" Lithwick: "That's sort of the cornerstone of the notion of
what university is about, Aaron."
This cornerstone isn't exactly of an ancient coloring. It wasn't
laid at Oxford, Bologna or Cambridge -- the scholars who started
these schools would be surprised to learn that the promotion of
irrationality is the university's founding purpose. No, this
cornerstone was laid more recently at, say, Berkeley, and on its
wobbly footing professors have been giving impressionable minds the
chance to experience stupidity ever since.
That embracing dumb ideas is the cornerstone on which
universities are now built explains why those who exercise reason
and demand the observance of rational standards are treated as the
only real threats to academic freedom. It explains why tenured
professorships are meted out not on the basis of intelligence but
its absence -- on a kind of promise not to use one's mind should it
conflict with reigning academic dogmas. Playing dumb is now an
academic job requirement. Literally dumb: you must not say or see
certain things.
In the face of a nihilist like Ward Churchill, self-respecting
professors in the past would have said: either he goes or we go.
Now before a barbarian like this, professors and craven university
administrators are speechless. When they do finally manage a few
words, the only phrase that dribbles out is "academic freedom," a
rhetorical reflex triggered by tremors in the spine.
As the Larry Summers flap illustrates, "academic freedom" means
just its opposite: not liberating the mind by conforming it to
reality, but imprisoning the mind in politically correct fictions
that guarantee ignorance of reality. While Ward Churchill can tell
lies about differences between America and the terrorists, Larry
Summers is forbidden to tell truths about differences between men
and women. The Soviet-style confession notes extracted by angry
feminists from Summers are his pledge never to think freely about
these matters again.
The purpose of "academic freedom" is the attainment of truth,
apprehending what is. Yet universities that hire teachers who use
ideology -- which is just lying writ large -- to obstruct students
from pursuing the truth are always held up as bastions of academic
freedom. They are its greatest enemies.
The more obviously true the thought, the more likely these
universities will be to police it. Ward Churchill could get tenure
by comparing his country's leaders to Nazis and falsifying American
history. But could he have received tenure if he had authored a
book on Intelligent Design?
George Neumayr is executive editor of The American
Spectator.