The Lion, the Scarecrow and the Looking-glass, darkly: Misadventures in the War of the Worldviews

Peter A. Harmer, Ph.D., MPH., ATC., FACSM

As many readers of these essays are aware, the impetus for this collection was the controversy on the Willamette campus during the 2006-7 academic year sparked by two student-initiated events. The first was the self-titled Most Offensive Costume Party Ever (MOCPE), a deliberate effort by a diverse group of students to deflate certain taboos through satire and ridicule. The second was an attempt at consciousness-raising that consisted of hanging effigies around campus with descriptions of specific episodes of social injustice attached “to represent those who are wounded, paralyzed, killed or ‘lynched,’ by those who fail to act at moments where we [sic] could speak out, but choose not to.” The vocal condemnation of the MOCPE was most noticeably from a group which presented itself as Concerned Students for Social Justice and which demanded reforms on campus, including the formation of a Social Justice Council. The outcry elicited by the second event was precipitated by faculty and staff who demanded the displays be removed as they were “beyond the pale” and created “a hostile work environment.” In both cases the University Administration acquiesced to the protestors, with the eventual formation of the Council for Diversity and Social Justice (CDSJ) in the first case and the immediate removal of the effigies in the second. Although, at first blush, the formation of CDSJ and the removal of the offending effigy displays may be seen as appropriate, enlightened, and morally commendable, on closer examination it may be argued that these decisions highlight the substitution of emotion for reason as the primary currency in our purported marketplace of ideas and, ultimately, undermine the integrity of the institution.

The metaphor of the university as a marketplace of ideas is a common, but not a trite, one and may have its origins in the ancient agora of classical Athens, where it is thought Socrates challenged his listeners to question everything they “knew” (including the veracity of their own worldviews).

However, a marketplace can only be effective if everyone agrees on fundamental rules for interaction and exchange. Although the specifics of transactions may vary, such as the currencies used or the exchange rates, all marketplace activities are based on a standard (e.g., gold) with specific attributes (e.g., purity) in line with a guiding philosophy (e.g., capitalism). Similarly, in the current intellectual milieu of the university, effective trade/transactions in ideas require all participants to accept the standard of reasoned discourse that is impartial and systematically consistent, as opposed to emotional manipulation, political bullying, or rhetorical trickery, conducted within the framework of freedom of expression. Ultimately, in all cases of disagreement and conflict, participants need to ensure that both their own arguments and those of their opponents conform to these conditions. Certainly, just as trade can occur within a different guiding principle, such as communism, the trade in ideas in the university could be bound by a different philosophy (perhaps a theocratic one). However, from history, experience, and communal values we have come to accept reason and freedom of expression as the most viable means of achieving our desired ends. Unless we are willing to change our trading practices, we are bound to abide by them.

Unfortunately, it seems that perhaps this marketplace of ideas has morphed into a customer-driven self-serving cafeteria where worldviews are selected based upon narrow personal interests and emotional reactions, much as hungry shoppers often opt for fast food and soda rather than more healthful offerings because the former are inherently appealing, readily available, and easily consumed. As more challenging fare supplied by the commitment to freedom of expression is routinely passed over because it is initially distasteful to our sensibilities, it is often subject to preemptive deletion from the offerings available. However, as is evident from the study of obesity and heart disease, not all things we find intrinsically attractive are good for us, nor are those things that are less palatable necessarily bad for us. British physicist Michael Faraday (1991) warned, “We receive as friendly that which agrees with (us), we resist with dislike that which opposes us; whereas the very reverse is required by every dictate of common sense” (475).

In the recent conflicts on campus a common justification for the need to “redefine” the standards of intellectual commerce by limiting the expression of certain worldviews is the belief that the Willamette marketplace is artificially constrained. In effect, the argument holds that the inhabitants of the “Willamette bubble,” by their very geography, are insulated and parochial and that any product they may bring to the marketplace of ideas will be necessarily so deficient as to be appropriately subject to preemptive recall. Often the designation is used to denigrate the apparent demographic homogeneity of the student body—white, wealthy, intellectually gifted—and is meant to emphasize a supposed lack of contact with the real world and the deficiencies that follow. According to a particular segment of the WU community these deficiencies are particularly evident in overt or covert prejudice and/or insensitivity to the plight of disenfranchised groups. For example, the MOCPE was seen as proof of, at least, the unevolved sensibilities and unenlightened or misanthropic worldview of the participants, and, at worst, endemic oppression at WU that could only exist in an environment of privilege and ignorance. Thus, given the Administration’s support for the opponents of MOCPE and the hanging effigies, and the apparently inherent incapacity of “bubble” folk to express empathy for diversity, the call for reflections on freedom of expression in a multicultural and democratic society that has resulted in this volume of essays seems a useful pin.

However, framing the debate/discussion in terms of multiculturalism and democracy is an act of misdirection, a classic technique of illusion. Neither of these issues is pertinent to the fundamental dilemma: the place of freedom of expression in the university. Multiculturalism must be dismissed at the outset as a conceit and a red herring. Given our ever-evolving and increasingly complex multicultural world, inevitable clashes of sensibilities should come as no surprise. Nonetheless, even in less complex societies or much less heterogeneous cultures, or in culturally, racially, and ethnically homogeneous groups, there are differing opinions, values, notions, and behaviors which confront one another; the smallest homogeneous cultural unit, the intact traditional nuclear family, still experiences its share of disagreements (to use a mild term), conflicting values, behavioral issues, and divergent worldviews—as the parent of any teenager knows all too well. Indeed, the fact that both protagonists and respondents of the two precipitating campus events are all members of the “bubble” population demonstrates at least binary worldviews within the “bubble.” Thus, the belief that the demographic homogeneity of the campus community is directly reflective of a Borg-like mentality is simply incorrect, as is the idea that the challenges of freedom of expression are different, or more complex, in a multicultural setting. In analyzing the value and limits of freedom of expression, having 200 different worldviews is no more useful than having two.

Similarly, the inclusion of democracy in the discussion is moot as the university is not, in fact, a democracy (despite allusions to being so and the fact that in certain instances the wishes of the majority are sought and respected). It is variously a meritocracy, autocracy, bureaucracy, and collective bargaining unit. Moreover, as professor of political science and author Phillipa Strum points out, “democracy is not merely rule by the majority but, as important, formal protection of the rights of individuals” (1999, 49). In light of the Administration’s failure either to seek a vote on supporting the demands of the MOCPE and effigy protestors or to protect the right of the creator of the effigy displays to “voice” his worldview, the consideration of democracy is clearly misplaced.

Thus, with the irrelevant distractions of multiculturalism and democracy removed, we return to the actual question under consideration: “In the university, who should be allowed to voice their worldview and under what circumstances?”

As noted previously, the purported disadvantages of inhabiting the Willamette bubble are well advertised for political purposes. Unfortunately, its benefits are rarely acknowledged, although they are important to both the function of the university and the intellectual growth of its inhabitants. One of the often unrecognized virtues of being in the bubble, and the source of considerable responsibility, is the opportunity to engage in the free exchange of ideas: to evaluate, rebut, analyze, advance, modify, commit to, or abandon worldviews, free of extraneous and irrelevant influences. This process should not be vacuous mouthing or mindless propagandizing but should rest on the careful application of reasoned argument, conscientious assembly of facts and information, and clear commitment to overarching principles.

In discussing the social and educational upheavals of the 1960’s, Jaroslav Pelikan notes in The Idea of the University—A Reexamination that the president of the University of Chicago at the time lamented the fact that many of those agitating for change tended to reject reason, “which is the way of education” for “personal qualities thought to be more than adequate substitutes.” However, as the university has a “moral contract” with society, its duty to society transcends time and space and “as the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained for many generations, it becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born” (Pelikan 1992, 139). The end result should be a better society. For the university community to meet its obligations, it seems reasonable to support freedom of expression as a guiding principle, for it is difficult to imagine that social change can occur if only ideas of a certain demeanor are allowed in public.

Thus, the university community must necessarily take the long view and not be seduced by the tastes of the day, but always be cognizant of the importance of fidelity to the underlying principle. John Henry Newman in The Idea of a University argues that the university is “the high protecting power of all knowledge and science, of fact and principle, of inquiry and discovery, of experiment and speculation: it maps out the territory of the intellect . . . it acts as the umpire between truth and truth, and, taking into account the nature and importance of each, assigns to all their due order of precedence” (Pelikan 1992, 57-58). In this light, the fewer restrictions on freedom of expression, the more likely the good is to be achieved. Pelikan reiterates that the university can only maintain its place in the process of social change through the freedom of interpretation that only it “is able to provide on a continuing basis.”

What is Freedom of Expression?

Although the initial response is often related to the First Amendment of the U.S. Constitution (i.e., a guaranteed right), the First Amendment is irrelevant to the issue at hand as, contrary to popular belief, the First Amendment does not apply to all aspects of American life. It is specifically directed at restraining the government’s interference with citizen discourse. It has no application to limits of expression placed by non-governmental institutions (such as private universities), although the arguments and results of First Amendment litigation can inform the debate in other spheres. Thus, there is no Constitutional guarantee of freedom of expression in the university, but there is a moral one derived from the commitment of the university to the free exchange of ideas in the pursuit of truth and the good life.

From the preceding argument it should be evident that freedom of expression is not an end in itself but rather a means to an end, that end being some conception of the good life (i.e., a social structure) that is better than one without freedom of expression. Although it is difficult to “define” this good life, C. Edwin Baker reports that noted First Amendment scholar Thomas Emerson identified freedom of expression as essential for furthering “1) individual self-fulfillment, 2) advancement of knowledge and discovery of truth, 3) participation in decision-making by all members of society ([including] the right to participate in the building of the whole society), and 4) achievement of a more adaptable and hence stable community” (Baker 1989, 47). As a means, it should be clear that freedom of expression cannot be an absolute good (i.e., not subject to restriction) because it is feasible that exercise of freedom of expression may clash with other fundamental principles, such as the prohibition on the unjustified killing of another, or may otherwise take society away from the good life to which it is intended to lead. Therefore, it is conceivable that limits may be reasonably placed on the exercise of freedom of expression. In U.S. law, examples include defamation, causing panic, sedition, obscenity, and incitement to crime. Similarly, in private contexts, freedom of expression cannot be absolute. The crux of the problem is to determine what limits are appropriate.

In the university, it should be clear that reasoned discourse with an understanding of the importance of a commitment to the principle of freedom of expression is the most suitable mechanism for determining (or at least proposing) appropriate limits. Unfortunately, the recent events on Willamette’s campus, as well as incidents at other institutions of higher learning, have shown that rather than a commitment to the importance of the principle, limitations on expression have been proposed, or imposed, for less than formidable reasons. Chief among these have been perceived slights to particular minority groups and/or personal discomfort resulting from being confronted by a differing worldview. Both of these responses are common in the current climate of the apparently self-evident value of visible diversity/multiculturalism and the focus on bruised personal sensibilities as valid criteria for limiting the expression(s) of others.

The reductio ad absurdum of this situation should be patently evident. If everyone shared the same worldview(s), there would have been no impetus to devise a principle of freedom of expression (or the First Amendment). The experience of life clearly demonstrates that differing (sometimes wildly divergent) worldviews exist even in the same society. As it is not possible to know at the outset which one(s) will lead to a new understanding of the world, or us, or the meaning of life, a commitment to the principle of freedom of expression has ostensibly been made by those who enter into the community of scholars. Thus, it is the responsibility of all participants to neither blindly accept nor summarily dismiss any novel commodity in the marketplace, but to subject it to scrutiny and quality control. Being mindful of one of the basic assumptions of science, that all knowledge is tentative, as new knowledge can alter current knowledge, we need to err on the side of caution in agitating for the suppression of worldviews that we find disturbing. If the standard for limiting free expression is whether the worldview expressed offends someone, then freedom of expression would cease to have any meaning, especially in the academy. Every limitation would take away more of its value, diminish its power to lead to the good life, and be one step closer to this means coming to its own end.

Indeed, the problem with the proposition that some worldview needs to be removed from the public arena because it is beyond the pale is that, in a reversal of the paradox of Zeno of Elea, it is often a journey of indistinguishable, infinitesimally small steps from the clearly intolerable to the blandly conventional, especially if the impetus is personal umbrage. Who is charged with erecting the fence obviously influences the scope of permissible worldviews. Challenges often posed to others to “get out of their comfort zones” seem strangely irrelevant when it comes to our own. We have a propensity, especially in the university, to believe we have achieved the highest levels of insight, sensitivity, broadness of vision, tolerance—but this is principally a delusion. These are convenient justifications to avoid looking closely at our unwillingness to give freedom of expression any real meaning when confronted with personally distasteful, disturbing, or just plain alien worldviews. Few are qualified surveyors.

Thus, because of the dangers associated with ad hoc limitations on freedom of expression, the commitment to the principle as a fundamental responsibility (and virtue) of the academy, and the belief that within the university, more than the broader society, we are directed by intellect rather than affect, we must be willing to accept, and defend, the broadest interpretation of freedom of expression—even foreseeing the assault on personal beliefs that will occur. However unpleasant the circumstances that may occasionally result from this commitment, it ensures four important benefits: a) the meaningfulness of freedom of expression, b) intellectual honesty, c) institutional integrity, and d) the opportunity for intellectual and emotional growth.

It should be evident, the issues raised previously notwithstanding, that the free dissemination of differing worldviews would not necessarily produce dissention and distress, even if it they were distasteful to personal sensibilities. In the range of possible responses, we can ignore an offending worldview (because it’s not particularly important to us), we can tolerate it (that is, examine it and allow it as an alternative view to our own), we can accept it (that is, be moved by it and change our own worldview), or we can censor it (because it clashes with some value(s) we hold dear or threatens our worldview in a presumably unbearable way).

It is interesting to note that the most passionate arguments about freedom of expression seem to be generated from skirmishes in the culture wars. In response to the disparate worldviews inherent in a multicultural society and the inevitable clash of sensibilities, the qualities most often advanced as necessary for achieving an integrated, fully realized social order are tolerance and acceptance, as these are presented as the means to ensuring the broadest range of worldviews. However, neither are appropriate standards. Tolerance must necessarily have a limiting effect on freedom of expression (whether in art, literature, lifestyle, or cultural expressions of the meaning of life) because it is a malleable attribute subject to both intellect and affect and, as such, is only as robust as the highest threshold trigger a person is willing to abide. If, as is common in the current climate, every person’s opinion is considered of equal value, then the lowest level of tolerance will ultimately dictate the limits of freedom of expression in society. Rather than leading to a flourishing of diverse worldviews, this approach will limit them to banalities that neither challenge nor enlighten. Similarly, the pursuit of universal acceptance, often seen as the Holy Grail of diversity, is as futile as the search for the Grail of legend because a universal worldview on anything (much less everything) is either not possible, or represents a world that is intellectually dead.

For freedom of expression to have significant meaning in the propagation and dissemination of diverse worldviews, greater emphasis must be given to developing resilience, a characteristic that represents the highest threshold of “distress” from an alien worldview that a person can endure. Just as the fatal limits of physical pain are well beyond the point at which we would voluntarily seek relief, so too is there a significant gap between the level at which we are inclined to censor and that which is philosophically or spiritually lethal. A real commitment to freedom of expression requires a willingness to “endure the unendurable.” Fortunately, we possess the means to steel ourselves for the ordeal—resilience in the face of assaults on our sensibilities is bolstered by reason: the reasoning that the broadest interpretation of freedom of expression is preferable to a narrow one; that views that offend us may not be wrong; that if an offending worldview is wrong, analysis and discussion will expose its flaws; and that, in the final assessment, this process will be more potent in removing a flawed worldview from the public arena than simply trying to suppress it. Finally, to paraphrase Wendy Kaminer’s (1999) defense of the First Amendment in Sleeping with Extra-Terrestrials, there is the fundamental reasoning that, to be meaningful, the right that freedom of expression provides each of us to give offense requires that we learn to take it.

Despite what I learned in kindergarten about the relative dangers of sticks, stones, and words, there is a current pervasive belief in the power of words to wound as efficiently, deeply, and permanently as the roughest stick and the heaviest stone. If this concept is taken to heart, it is understandable that caring and compassionate people would avoid using words, images, behaviors, or other forms of expression, intentionally or otherwise, that could result in pain or suffering to others. In this situation, voluntarily withholding one’s own worldviews to avoid causing disquiet in others seems perfectly reasonable as a matter of conscience. Unfortunately, an often advanced “logical” extension is the assumed moral responsibility to protect others from possible pain and suffering by preemptively suppressing potentially offensive worldviews of a third party. However, this position is flawed because, as argued previously, it must inevitably result in unreasonable restrictions on the scope of worldviews that could be publicly expressed. In addition, the limits on paternalistic interventions as regards morally autonomous equals are well known, including the most obvious objection that one cannot actually know what is in the best interest of another, so the “protection” of others cannot be the sole justification for censoring particular worldviews.

There is no doubt that words and other forms of expression from others can be emotionally devastating, and it would be unreasonable to expect that everyone could turn off their emotional responses. The quandary is in separating an initial emotional response from a lingering one, one that begins to fester and continues to disrupt the pleasure of life of the offended. The most obvious antidote is, again, reason. We espouse clear thinking to control our emotions and desires in all aspects of life and this circumstance should be no different. It should be evident that words can only exert an influence as long as one allows them to—they have no life other than that which the receiver gives them. It would be good to take note of the insight of Humpty Dumpty and actively assert our mastery over these polymorphic intermediaries.

Regaining control over unruly words and images (and defusing our destructive emotional responses to them) comes from striving to be what Paul and Elder describe as strong-sense critical thinkers, that is, those who treat all “thinking by the same high standards…who subject [their] own reasoning to the same criteria…[as that they] find unsympathetic. [They] question [their] own purposes, evidence, conclusions, implications, and point of view with the same vigor as…those of others” (Paul and Elder 2001, 2). The foundation of strong-sense critical thinking is fairmindedness, which is an outgrowth of the interaction of intellectual “traits” including confidence in reason, intellectual courage, intellectual empathy, and intellectual integrity. It “implies adherence to intellectual standards (such as accuracy and sound logic), uninfluenced by one’s own advantage or the advantage of one’s group.” Weaksense critical thinking often employs sophistries or logical fallacies, including appeals to emotion. It is in resisting “appeals to [our] dearest prejudices’ that the measure of our commitment to reasoning is taken. There is no doubt that conflicts over freedom of expression involve significant emotional capital (because the conflict would not exist if the “receiver” perceived the subject of expression to be trivial. It is the affront to the receiver’s worldview that provokes a call for censoring). In the university it seems self-evident that all members of the community believe themselves to be strong-sense critical thinkers. Unfortunately, the recent events on campus demonstrated that, protestations to the contrary, there is a credibility gap for strong-sense critical thinking in relation to freedom of expression of diverse worldviews. Noted Professor of Law at Harvard University Alan Dershowitz brings the divide into high relief by arguing that an espoused commitment to diversity is often simply a method of populating universities with those who look different but think the same. However, in the university it should be the range of worldviews, not styles of dress, that drive discourse and discovery. In his view “the true test for diversity…is would people on the left vote for a really bright Evangelical Christian, who was a brilliant and articulate spokesperson for the right to life, the right to own guns…anti-gay approaches to life, anti-feminist views? Would there be a push to get such a person on the faculty? Now, such a person would really diversify the place. Of course not.” (Horowitz 2006, xl).

A recently matched pair of incidents may serve to illustrate this problem further. Both caused widespread indignation and condemnation but in the university environment for seemingly intellectually and morally opposite reasons. In the wake of the September 11, 2001, attacks in the U.S.A., former University of Colorado professor Ward Churchill (2001) published a paper on U.S. foreign policy in which he used the phrase “little Eichmanns” (coined by anarcho-primitivist John Zerzan in 1995) to describe World Trade Center workers as an extension of Hannah Arendt’s conception of the banality of evil. However, the maelstrom over Churchill’s language did not even kindle until 3.5 years later when it became the fodder for conservative news commentators subsequent to Churchill’s invitation to debate the “limits of dissent” at a small northeastern college. Public indignation and outrage led to increasingly strident calls for Churchill’s dismissal from his university teaching position. It was clear that his seemingly unconscionable assault on the sensibilities of the public merited such action and it was widely supported by members of the academy.

As the Churchill controversy was gaining speed, a different conflagration erupted in Europe. Following the publication of 12 cartoons of the prophet Muhammad in the Danish newspaper Jyllands-Posten, a world-wide outpouring of rage and grief by Muslims occurred. The controversy was ignited by two imams in Denmark, who cited the cartoons as a cause of “pain and torment” in their dissemination of a document detailing purported oppression of Danish Muslims. The general response in the West, especially in the academy, was full support for the publication of the cartoons in the name of freedom of expression and condemnation of the “excessive” emotional response that ensued. The dichotomy of positions in the academy is instructive because it is difficult to see the differences in these situations within a commitment to freedom of expression and clear, unemotional analysis.

Perhaps future inconsistencies can be minimized if we consider the value of utilizing the concept of the veil of ignorance presented by John Rawls in his influential work A Theory of Justice. Rawls posited that to effectively determine “a fair procedure so that any principles agreed to will be just” required that the participants in the discussion be behind a veil of ignorance. In effect, “they do not know how the various alternatives will affect their own particular case and they are obliged to evaluate principles solely on the basis of general considerations” (Rawls 1971, 136). As with Paul and Elder’s conception of fairmindedness, the veil of ignorance removes knowledge of one’s status in society, possession of assets, intelligence, conception of the good, or even the “particular circumstances of their own society”. This is necessary because to “yield agreements that are just, the parties must be fairly situated and treated equally as moral persons” (Rawls 1971, 141). Ultimately, this approach “represents a genuine reconciliation of interests.” This process seems to support freedom of expression as a preferred means of ensuring social justice and the good life and provides a way to anchor ourselves to the real standards of the marketplace no matter how volatile the trading may be. That being the case, arbitrary limitations placed on freedom of expression for reasons related to personal sensitivities, ambition, political ends, or a narrower conception of the good life are difficult to defend.

Of course, if the deficiencies in arguments presented to restrict some worldview were patently obvious, there would be markedly fewer instances of censorship. Unfortunately, the nature of these deficiencies, especially emotional appeal, is also their greatest strength and it takes significant intellectual fortitude to withstand, and dismantle, these seemingly unassailable justifications. However, it is our obligation as aspirants to strong-sense critical thinking to actively develop these skills.

At this juncture, it may be instructive to consider two examples of the beguiling power of such justifications, the cost of resisting them, and the lasting rewards for the effort. According to its 2005 Peabody Award citation (2007), the animated series “South Park” has, “in the process of unapologetically ridiculing individuals and groups, … [pushed] viewers to confront broader issues such as racism, war, mob mentality, consumerism, and religious fanaticism” (16). That its humor or slant on the world is not to everyone’s taste is not in dispute. However, it was interesting to note that less than a year after its Peabody, “South Park” received extensive general media attention when Isaac Hayes, the voice of Chef and an original cast-member, opted out of his contract with the following statement: “There is a place in this world for satire, but there is a time when satire ends and intolerance and bigotry towards the religious beliefs of others begins. Religious beliefs are sacred to people, and at all times should be respected and honored. As a civil rights activist of the past 40 years, I cannot support a show that disrespects those beliefs and practices” (“Chef Issac Hayes” 2006). Certainly, in keeping with his work for social justice, Hayes makes a compelling case in what appears to be an admirable stand on principle against a show that may be called an equal opportunity offender. In response, one of the show’s co-creators pointed out that “in 10 years and over 150 episodes of ‘South Park,’ Isaac never had any problem with the show making fun of Christians, Muslim, Mormons or Jews” but “he got a sudden case of religious sensitivity when it was his religion featured on the show” and “wants a different standard for religions other than his own, and to me, that is where intolerance and bigotry begin” (“Hayes leaves” 2006). In light of the obvious lack of impartiality in Hayes’ reasoning (and previous behavior) his pretext of principled action is laughable, but his position is typical of the hypocritical attitude evident in much of academe related to freedom of expression—in effect, the right to offend stops when it offends me. Despite Hayes’ long association with the show and the centrality of the character, the creators let him go rather than compromise their integrity by acquiescing to his wish for the episode on his religion to be dropped. The cost may be seen by some as minimal but it warrants admiration, no matter what you think of the show.

A different and more compelling exemplar of moral fortitude is David Goldberger, the Jewish ACLU lawyer who found himself in what many considered the completely ridiculous and untenable position of arguing for the First Amendment rights of a group of neo-Nazis to be present in Nazi uniforms in a town comprised of a large Jewish population and, more specifically, a large number of Holocaust survivors. As Phillipa Strum recounts in her well-regarded analysis of the incident When the Nazis came to Skokie— Freedom for Speech We Hate, Goldberger was vilified, reviled, and threatened with physical harm for his work. Despite his extreme personal distaste for the plaintiffs and their case, personally and professionally, “he was appalled at the lack of support from individual lawyers and from the organized bar. He lamented what he saw as their failure to stand by two principles: the right to free speech and the obligation of attorneys … to represent parties even when a ‘client or cause is unpopular or community action is adverse’” (Strum 1999, 68). As a result of accepting the case, the ACLU reportedly lost as many as 30,000 members. However, Goldberger understood the importance of not heading down the proverbial “slippery slope” by allowing various ordinances instituted by the Skokie town council to prevent the neo-Nazis from appearing in the town to go unchallenged. Perhaps as much as his commitment to the fundamental value of the principle of freedom of expression, he saw that the law of unintended consequences would come into play, which, in fact, it did. Just as Justice Hugo Black had argued in his dissenting opinion in Beauharnais vs. Illinois, another First Amendment case 25 years earlier, the standard used to prevent the neo-Nazi appearance in Skokie (that is, speech offensive to the community) could “have been used by southern states to outlaw protests by civil rights activists in the 1950s and 1960s.” In Skokie, Ordinance 996 (one of three devised by the village Council to prevent the neo-Nazi rally) prohibited “demonstrations by members of political parties wearing military-type uniforms” and, subsequently, prevented a group of Jewish war veterans from demonstrating in their military uniforms against the neo-Nazis. The consequent “interpretations” of the ordinances by the village council to permit marches they approved of made a mockery of the First and Fourteenth Amendments and clearly illustrated the dangers of trying to craft restrictions based on emotion and good intentions rather than adherence to a clear commitment to elemental components of freedom of expression. The ACLU prevailed in court—and in the public arena. As Roger Baldwin, one of the founders of the organization, pointed out in the immediate aftermath of Skokie, “the ACLU had survived over 50 years … because of the ‘integrity’ with which it emphasized principle rather than likable clients” (Strum 1999, 139).

Skokie has lessons for the Willamette community, particularly in relation to the actions of the Office of Residence Life in the hanging effigies incident. By acquiescing to the wishes of those offended by the displays and, in particular, for removing the displays because “the impact of our actions is more important than the intent” (email to faculty and administrative staff from Marilyn Derby, March 2, 2007), Residence Life has instituted prior restraint on any subsequent act of expression; that is, it is difficult to see how it can grant permission to any activity or advertising of art, literature, theatre, politics, etc., because it is not possible to know beforehand what the impact of such expressions may be. For example, having established that impact rather than intent is paramount, especially if the impact results in the perception of a hostile environment for any member (or visitor) of the university community, it seems that Residence Life cannot allow any advertising for the annual production of the Vagina Monologues, or any notice of support for alternative lifestyles and so on, as these can assault the sensibilities of both politically and religiously conservative members of the university community, resulting in a perceived hostile environment. Of course it is easy to rationalize away such a scenario by arguing that these groups need to be more open-minded or more tolerant and less thin-skinned; that, in effect, their particular worldview has no standing. This type of patronizing justification is not uncommon in the realm of those who make or administer the rules, but it hides a major problem in the intellectual honesty of those who proffer it.

Strangely, the rationalization of Residence Life for its action in censoring the hanging effigies could also be interpreted to argue that it must approve any sign, advertisement, art installation, or other expression, no matter how seemingly heinous or offensive because the impact may be benign or even beneficial.

How many complaints justify action is, of course, an interesting sticking point. If, rather than standing on principle, the Administration responds to demands from the majority to stifle a minority worldview, then the very group(s) for whom freedom of expression was instituted are effectively silenced. Moreover, the claims of a place for diverse views rings hollow when those views are quashed (or marginalized). Equally disturbing is the reality that a minority (perhaps a single individual, under currently prevailing rationalizations) can dictate to the majority which worldviews are acceptable for general consumption.

Having the political authority to limit expression is not the same as having the moral right to do so—and few would agree they should be equated. The University Administration, and Residence Life in particular, has shown willingness to act in politically expedient ways in conflicts over divisive worldviews that are inherently antithetical to the foundational principles of the university, especially those that constitute the framework of the values and processes of the marketplace of ideas.

One point of departure for disagreement about the limits of freedom of expression is the context in which an act of expression is presented. Public versus private, forewarned versus ambushed, seem to many to be a reasonable dividing line for the permissibility of expressing worldviews that may be deemed controversial. Strangely, it is a position shared by artists as well. In an interesting coincidence, the May 14, 2007, edition of The New Yorker magazine had two articles dealing with controversial artists—the American conceptual artist Chris Burden and the British graffiti artist Banksy—who epitomize these opposing viewpoints. Chris Burden gained fame for such works as having himself shot, being nailed to the roof of a Volkswagen, and “slither[ing], nearly naked and with his hands held behind him, across fifty feet of broken glass in a parking lot.” He quickly became to be regarded as “the most extreme and enigmatic of provocateurs,” who had no sympathy for the distress he engendered in his audiences. Although he saw art “as a free spot in society, where you can do anything,” art was not without its limits. In 2004, he resigned his position at U.C.L.A “to protest the university’s decision not to expel a student who, in a class, had played Russian roulette with a fake but real looking gun, then had left the room and set off a firecracker in the hall.” This act, he felt, contravened the “rules of speech and decorum” expected in a university. For Burden, there was “a cardinal difference between an act performed in an art space for an audience that had been warned [as with his early performance pieces] and one sprung on students in a classroom” (Schjeldahl 2007, 153).

By contrast, for Banksy, the unexpected encounter with his work in the public domain is necessary to “prod the popular conscience. Confronted with a blank surface, he will cover it with scenes of anti-authoritarian whimsy.” The public space and the element of surprise are essential to the impact he is trying to create with his streetwork. He is not trying to disturb viewers of his work but to entertain them and to get them to think about social incongruities. According to author Laura Collins, “his most famous street paintings are a series of black-and-white stenciled rats, the majority of them slightly larger than life-size. Each different, but they all possess an impish poignancy that made them an immediate hit with London pedestrians.” If restricted to a defined art space, the impact of these works would be lost. It is the public discourse that is important. If Burden’s view is accepted, then controversial worldviews (whether benign or caustic) will never have the broad dissemination that is necessary for them to have a meaningful impact or, indeed, for freedom of expression to have meaning. It seems obviously disingenuous to argue that freedom of expression exists if it is only permitted to exist in private. Minority worldviews only have meaning if they are expressed in the public domain.

In a 2003 article in the Chronicle of Higher Education, professor of public health Philip Alcabes took the profession of epidemiology to task for its role in generating the concept of a risk-free life. Alcabes argued that “the risk-free life is a mirage. If we stop thinking that we can avoid disease or escape death—if we recognize that most infectious diseases have not been conquered, that epidemics still happen, that disease always takes a human toll—we can stay calmer when epidemic disease does strike, whether it comes naturally or is produced deliberately by human hands” (Alcabes 2003, B11). The takehome message is that to prepare realistically for threats to our health we must be aware that they will always be present. Despite advances in medical research and safety legislation and changes in personal behaviors, people will continue to become ill or die unexpectedly. Similarly, belief in a world free of divisive worldviews is both counter-intuitive and counter-productive. Just as individual differences are the main source of variation, or exceptions, to our understanding of the risk of disease or death, so, too, will they continue to be the source of the eternal clash of worldviews. Unless we favor a perfectly operating Brave New World or Walden Two, we must be prepared to function in the face of the potentially distressingly diverse worldviews of a free society. Attempting to eliminate the risk by suppressing the worldview(s) each of us finds disturbing is intellectually dishonest and pragmatically impractical.

Moreover, just as our bodies need to be subjected to stressors to stimulate adaptation and improve function, we, in the university, hold that challenges to our intellect drive new insights and elevate our understanding of the world. In the absence of testing worldviews intellect is apt to calcify or atrophy. The temptation to engage in preemptive banishment of certain worldviews based on questionable premises such as those derived from the conviction that “politically incorrect” worldviews are incompatible with enlightened analysis must be resisted. In defending Larry Summers, the former president of Harvard University, during the controversy over Summers’ comments related to gender differences in the sciences that ultimately precipitated his departure from the presidency, Alan Dershowitz noted that despite allegations about “a presidentially imposed atmosphere of intimidation” the furor was “about substantive disagreement with Summers’ view … about the innate differences between the genders. But what if he were to turn out to be right? Every factual issue, every scientific claim subject to proof or disproof, must be open to debate at a great university. This sounds like the trial of Galileo, including the pressure on Summers to apologize and to renounce his views” (“Harvard law professor” 2005).

History is replete with the vindication of worldviews that ran counter to widely held self-evident truths, despite sometimes deadly attempts to stifle them. The triumph of these unpopular worldviews was due to those who were willing to risk the death of their own worldviews by examining the new objectively, whether through the scientific method or careful philosophical inquiry. No matter the outcome, those who undertook the challenge were stronger, intellectually and morally, for the effort.

Conclusion

That the expressed worldview of others can push our buttons, inflame our passions, and corrode our self-control is so obvious as to be beyond dispute, but as members of the university community we pride ourselves on using reason to guide our actions. And it is when the perceived provocation is at its most powerful that we reveal the true measure of our intellectual and moral character. The test of our commitment to a principle is not when it involves issues that are of no consequence to us, or even in cases where there is discomfort and inconvenience, but in those circumstances in which there is a real price to pay—the willingness to forfeit one’s reputation, livelihood, wellbeing, or life. Fortunately such instances are rare for most of us, which makes our inability to withstand unpleasant emotional responses, as demonstrated by knee-jerk condemnations and calls for censoring offending worldviews, seem inconsistent with our mission in the academy. Despite the claims of the Red Queen that once you’ve said a thing, it is fixed and “you must take the consequences,” as Henry Rosovsky points out in The University: An Owner’s Manual, the value of being a part of the university community “is the opportunity—indeed, the demand—for continual investment in oneself. It is a unique chance for a lifetime of building and renewing intellectual capital” (Rosvosky 1990, 161). He goes on to argue that the professoriate should be “the very last to allow [itself ] to act under duress and yield to pressure.” It is clear that when the pressure is from outside of the academy, individual belief systems, or the intellectual boundaries the faculty have erected for themselves, resistance is high and offending arguments are meticulously disassembled and neutralized. The same vigor is rarely evident when a reexamination of one’s intellectual capital is required by exposure of its own flawed logic. Surely we should be made of sterner stuff—and teach others how to be so as well.

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my friend and intellectual role model Norman Campbell for his contributions to the content and insights of this essay. I have benefited significantly from our discussions about the nature of writing, the value of the free expression of ideas, and the challenges of the unexamined life. I am also extremely grateful to Professor Gretchen Moon for her willingness to step up at the eleventh hour and provide sagacious commentary and valuable feedback on this work. Her professional generosity is an example of collegiality at its finest.

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