Universities will be turbocharged petri dishes
Among the many crises Americans now confront is one of trust. And thanks to the polarization of our politics and the politicization of our pandemic, that crisis is about to worsen. One of the hot spots will be university campuses.
As we write, the fourth wave of the pandemic is already rolling across Texas. Rather than seeking to stem its rise, Gov. Greg Abbott has instead strengthened it. This will be the inevitable result of his executive orders preventing state agencies and entities, including state universities, from requiring employees and students to show vaccination passports and wear masks. Abbott declared that these are matters of personal, not institutional, responsibility.
Meanwhile, the University of Houston still holds fast to its plan, formulated earlier this year when the vaccination rate was sky-high, to “deliver a ‘normal’ fall 2021 semester.” Given the subsequent stall in the pace of vaccinations, the scare quotes are, well, kind of scary. Last week, there were more than 4,000 COVID hospitalizations in Texas — the highest number since March. Nearly every case involves an unvaccinated individual, prompting one health official to describe it as a “very concerning” development.
“Very concerning” is bureaucrat-ese for “The house is on fire!”
In time of plague, however, the refusal of individual responsibility can lead not just to failing grades, but to fatal events. This is, well, “very concerning” for our universities. (It also concerns one of us, who taught in-person classes during the pandemic.) Young people are getting vaccinated at much slower rates than older generations in our country. Moreover, a variety of surveys reveal that the trust level of Americans under 30 ranges from the dismal to dire. The confluence of youthful distrust in institutions and disinclination to get vaccinated could turn classrooms into turbocharged petri dishes for vaccinated and unvaccinated alike.
University classes could become superspreader events among the unvaccinated and lead to breakthrough cases among the vaccinated. And instead of in-person classes, with all the nuance, depth and trust that entails, we may see an abrupt change to online teaching — a repeat, in short, of spring 2020.
Remarkably, in a state where scarcely half the population is fully vaccinated, we are dousing the flames with kerosene. They threaten not just the health of countless human bodies, but also the health of our body politic. And there is no element more vital to this body’s wellbeing than trust.
But what, exactly, do we mean when we talk about trust?
In this case, we can define trust as the belief that we will be fair, predictable and respectful with those who entrust us with their expectations and vulnerabilities. Built incrementally over time, trust deepens with inter-dependence. As David Brooks writes, trust is not a virtue. Instead, “it’s the measure of other people’s virtue.”
Consider the case of two people whose backgrounds did not, especially in our polarized age, predispose them to trust one another. One is a believing Catholic, the other a firm agnostic; one voted for Ronald Reagan, the other for Jimmy Carter; one is a Yankees fan, the other a Mets fan. Yet to turn Reagan’s famous quip on its head, they verified, then trusted. Given the time to observe one another in a variety of situations, they came to know they could trust one another. This vignette, in fact, describes the authors of this essay.
What is true for successful friendships is also true for successful societies and organizations: They enjoy high levels of trust. Scientific research has repeatedly shown what most of us would intuit — namely, that trust happens along with consistent ethical leadership, employee support and organizational justice. By cultivating trust, the smartest organizations also develop client loyalty and cooperation — an essential bond in times of crisis.
University students need to trust that their professors will not ignore their duties, just as professors need to trust that students will abide by their duties. To limit the number of trust-busting activities, however, we put certain systems in place. Students not only have the right to evaluate their professors, but they must also accept the right of professors to require them to submit their papers to plagiarism algorithms such as Turnitin.
What, then, must we do? Or, in the case of Texas, what can we do? As of last count, more than 600 colleges and universities across the country, private and public, will require masks and weekly COVID testing of those students without proof of vaccination. In this regard, the hands of public university administrators in Texas, however, have been tied by our zealous governor. But this does not mean they must also sit on their hands. At UH — the house, after all, that innovation built — no time is better than yesterday to start innovating.
At this point, the most meaningful innovation would be incentivization. Learn from and surpass the incentives offered at the University of North Texas. We are not marketing strategists, but why not a lottery of free court-side tickets at a Rockets game, for example, for students who get jabbed? (Perhaps the chair of the board of regents can help.) Or propose a “Chance it with the Chancellor” — free burgers, beers and bowling at the student center with our president.
Or, best of all, provide free and guaranteed parking for the school year.
Along with providing cleaning wipes in the classrooms, this might be a way for our administration to embrace its share of responsibility in building a safe and trusting atmosphere for our “normal” semester.
Zaretsky is a University of Houston professor and the author of the forthcoming book “Victories Never Last: Reading and Caregiving in Time of Plague.” Alliger is a Houston-based consulting work psychologist and author of the forthcoming book “Anti-Work: Psychological Investigations into Its Truths, Problems, and Solutions.”