The following is a guest contribution and reflects the author’s views alone. For information on how to submit a piece to the Opinion section, click here.
Higher education in America is in turmoil. Faced with an assault from the federal government, we at Princeton and others in higher education have sprung up quickly to defend our operations. In a recent essay published in The Atlantic, for example, President Christopher Eisgruber ’83 cited the track record of American institutions and argued that they “have given the country prosperity and security.” This paper’s Editorial Board and a number of professors have likewise published opinions in support of Eisgruber in recent weeks.
While the Trump administration’s actions may be capricious, vengeful, and poorly targeted, I am nonetheless troubled by the position we have taken to unconditionally defend ourselves in the wake of its attacks. The rise of populism worldwide reflects the belief of many that “elites” — and associated institutions like universities — no longer represent the interests of a significant portion of our population.
For too long, we have willfully ignored the rationale behind the antagonism that many of the 77 million Americans who re-elected Trump feel for academia. Now, more than ever, we must listen to the public on what we think are closed debates and be open to research spurred by those new ideas.
Many American voters consider much of our priorities and agendas irrelevant, or even actively harmful, to them or society in general. Many feel distanced, for example, by our incessant push around the start of the 21st century to rebrand American higher education with the mission of educating “global citizens” — a trend symbolized by Princeton’s 2016 decision to append global impact to its own informal motto. Many feel our push for diversity and inclusion in society, as we understand it, fails to benefit the nation and may even be harmful. Americans now more than ever think that universities are on the incorrect path in educating our students.
And this extends to research, not just educational programming. For instance, while scientists overwhelmingly affirm that climate change is a real problem, that does not have to be the end of the debate. Many feel that this will materially harm their lives. Consider that even many residents of America’s most polluted state, Louisiana, reject or even deplore the ideas of environmental protection and action on climate change. As UC Berkeley sociologist Arlie Hochschild discovers in her book “Strangers In Their Own Land,” many in the “oil-plant south” who consider work in the oil-and-gas industry crucial to the “American way of life” feel like they have been made strangers by “liberal” media’s framing of the oil and gas industry as an immoral disregard for the planet.
Yet, faced with these allegations of the irrelevance or harmfulness of our operations and programs, we at higher education institutions continue to refuse to question our fundamental assumptions in our recent defense of higher education. In our recent public-facing dialogue, such as the op-ed President Eisgruber published, we largely do not seriously discuss the goodness and social benefits of educating a “global citizenry,” of furthering agendas relating to climate change, and of our efforts to promote diversity and inclusion as we define it.
Instead, members of prestigious academic institutions and elite media outlets have fallen into a mistake only prone to academic amateurs: framing opponents in the least favorable way. A denial of the mission of global engagement has been casted as an immoral disregard of universal values for kindness or empathy. The rejection of significant action against climate change is equated to a denial of truth and reality itself. And, overwhelmingly, push-back against diversity and inclusion has been framed as indefensible positions representing racism and sexism.
I am not advocating that the mission of private universities should be forced to align with popular opinion — academic institutions should have absolute discretion to determine priorities in education and social engagement, and researchers within should be protected to freely offer their opinions on any issue. I concur with President Eisgruber when he rejects the idea of restricting academic freedom and the freedom of expression. And I oppose the Trump Administration’s decision to withdraw research funding based on political viewpoints.
But the dedication to our academic freedoms in setting priorities and agendas in higher education can never be based on the assumption that our decisions are infallible. In the face of zealous discontent toward us, I urge that we shed our infallibility and interrogate the ramifications of our present higher education priorities: The goodness of dealing with climate change in the way we frame it, the correctness in promoting diversity, as we define it, and the benefits of educating global citizens, to name a few. Treating these issues like closed debates helps no one and only enforces echo chambers on both sides.
Pushed to the brink by Trump and the Americans who elected him, our present time is also one of opportunity — not of calling to “defend all of higher education” in its present state but instead, to fundamentally reconsider our direction for higher education and whether missions we have come to undertake in recent decades are truly as infallible as we think.
Thomas Tao is a first-year undergraduate student. He can be reached at thomas.tao[at]princeton.edu.
