Universities should stop commenting on world events
The conflict in Gaza is playing out in a parallel battle over academic freedom at America’s universities. A passionate exchange of perspectives is to be expected, but the debate has taken an ugly turn as efforts are made to penalize, even censor, pro-Palestinian views. Much of the reason lies in the well-meaning but misguided actions of university leaders.
Harvard University, where I am a senior fellow at its Kennedy School, illustrates the problem. The university’s new president, Claudine Gay, joined by 17 senior administrators, released a statement two days after the Hamas attack on Israel, saying they were “heartbroken by the death and destruction unleashed by the attack by Hamas that targeted citizens in Israel and by the war in Israel and Gaza now under way.” But earlier that day, Lawrence Summers, Harvard’s former president, found the university too slow to comment. “The silence from Harvard’s leadership, so far, coupled with a vocal and widely reported student groups’ statement blaming Israel solely, has allowed Harvard to appear at best neutral towards acts of terror against the Jewish state of Israel,” he wrote. Various politicians and public figures joined his criticism.
The student statement referred to by Summers had been issued on the day of the Hamas attack by the Harvard College Palestine Solidarity Committee, joined originally by 33 other Harvard student organizations. They held “the Israeli regime entirely responsible for all unfolding violence.” In a follow-up statement, Gay distanced herself from the student statement: “While our students have the right to speak for themselves, no student group — not even 30 student groups — speaks for Harvard University or its leadership.”
The series of statements had immediate financial consequences for Harvard. Israeli billionaires Idan and Batia Ofer resigned in protest from the executive board of the Kennedy School. “Our decision has been precipitated by the lack of clear evidence of support from the University’s leadership for the people of Israel following the tragic events of the past week, coupled with their apparent unwillingness to recognize Hamas for what it is, a terrorist organization,” they wrote. Billionaire Leslie Wexner and his wife, Abigail, ended a 34-year funding relationship with Harvard and the Kennedy School because they felt that Gay was “tiptoeing, equivocating” about the Hamas attack.
All of this begs the question: Why should administrators from Harvard or any university be opining on events such as the Hamas attack, the Israeli response, or student and faculty statements on them? In recent years, university leaders have faced growing demands to take public positions on national or global events. Some in isolation seemed uncontroversial, such as denouncing the 2020 police murder of George Floyd. But once university administrators entered the business of public commentary, they inevitably faced pressure to shape their comments. Who wouldn’t want the imprimatur of a prestigious university behind their cause? Moreover donors predictably feel entitled to special consideration in determining what these statements will be.
University leaders seem to have gotten into this position out of goodfaith concern for the university community. As administrators felt greater pressure to care for students’ mental well-being, some took to issuing statements of concern and sympathy when a global event might weigh heavily on some students. It was a short step from these statements of concern to statements about the event itself.
More disturbing, some donors pressed university administrations to shut down autonomous expressions on campus by students and faculty. Instead of generic disclaimers that members of an academic community do not speak for the university, donors wanted administrators to disown or even limit particular statements or events held on campus. In January, I was temporarily denied a fellowship at Harvard because the Kennedy School dean apparently was worried about donor reaction to my criticisms of the Israeli government.
University administrators’ concern for student well-being took another dangerous step, too. They rightly want to avoid violence, intimidation, and harassment on campus, but they also began trying to avoid students’ feelings being hurt by uncomfortable ideas. “I don’t feel safe” has been transformed from a statement about physical threats to one about emotional challenges. Rather than making clear that students could leave difficult presentations if they felt uncomfortable — no one is compelled to listen to a disagreeable speaker — this concern for emotional distress became a new ground for censorship of difficult ideas.
All of this could have been avoided had university administrations stayed out of the business of issuing statements about external events or about campus commentary on those events. Instead, they should have stayed focused foremost on defending academic freedom. If someone asks why a university administration is not speaking out about an issue, it should respond by saying it does not, as a matter of policy, issue statements about global developments. Why isn’t the administration limiting disagreeable speech on campus? Because it defends academic freedom.
That is what the University of Chicago’s Kalven Report recommended in 1967. Its logic is still persuasive. These straightforward, principled answers would have avoided much of the donor pressure for censorship.
University administrators can still periodically remind students about the importance of respectful conversations or the availability of mental health services, but they should divorce those reminders from substantive commentary about the crisis of the moment.
I make this recommendation with a touch of regret because I recall a time when we looked to university leaders to provide moral guidance. I have always felt disappointment when fear of offending donors led university presidents to restrict their public remarks to safe topics such as the state of education. But I have come to recognize that the risk to academic freedom is too great if university leaders enter the business of commenting on external events.
Obviously, many universities have stepped well beyond these lines, but it is not too late to step back. If university leaders clearly pronounce that for the benefit of academic freedom they will no longer comment on world affairs, they will be better placed to resist donor pressure to issue statements on the latest cause du jour. That does not mean that universities must withdraw from public debates. Faculty and students should continue to speak out. But university leaders should say that to defend the freedom of the members of their communities, the university as an institution will no longer do so.
As administrators felt greater pressure to care for students’ mental well-being, some took to issuing statements of concern and sympathy when a global event might weigh heavily on some students. It was a short step from these statements of concern to statements about the event itself.