Public Employment & Private Citizenship
As I imagine many people do, I often think it wise to keep controversial political opinions to myself at work. When acting in my formal capacity as a professor in a public institution, I have certain professional obligations to students and colleagues that usually require me to prioritize the common good over my particular self-interests. For instance, I believe I should generally use the platform associated with my official position as a professor to advance public knowledge and help students develop as scholars.
Public scholarship and teaching should, in my view, take an approach to inquiry that prioritizes logical argument, evidence, and the pursuit of truth (with an assumed universal commitment to objectivity as a regulatory ideal of inquiry). It should also assume a good faith commitment to reciprocal terms of cooperation. I intend to maintain my deep commitment to these norms in my role as a public scholar and teacher, but I am worried that many others do not believe they are obligated to do so.
The norms that dominate much of the academy, in my judgment, selectively permit some but not others to use their official public positions as platforms for the promotion of controversial political perspectives and highly subjective, narrow special interests rather than public knowledge. Specifically, much of the far-Left activist-oriented scholarship advocating for overt discrimination on the basis of group identity has been codified into institutional policy and practice.
Cloaked in the euphemistic language of "social justice, diversity, equity, and inclusion,"
irrationality and overt bigotry have become normalized within some spheres of the academy. Specifically, the pernicious beliefs advanced by activist-oriented scholars who elevate "critical" neo-Marxist, postmodernist, and identitarian/chauvinist politics above the ethical pursuit of public knowledge have become increasingly mainstream in American society.
This phenomenon, in my judgment, is perhaps the greatest threat to liberal democracy and reasonable pluralism and the strongest contributor to the present identitarian
conflict and ‘crisis of credibility’ facing the academy and other American social institutions.
I reject the notion that public institutions of higher education are appropriate venues through which to advance narrow special interests and private beliefs that are neither in service of the common good nor warranted with public reasons and evidence. I do not believe it is appropriate to expect university students or colleagues to uncritically affirm the validity of any claim. Nor would I ever expect colleagues or students to uncritically affirm my personal beliefs, subjective feelings, or private experiences.
When acting in that official capacity, I believe I should be as collegial toward others, open minded toward their beliefs, sensitive to their feelings, and objective in my evaluations of their work as possible without undermining the scholarly or ethical
standards I would like to see as norms in my field. I genuinely care about my students and colleagues, and I am fortunate that they almost always engage with me and each other in a spirit of mutual respect and good faith.
However, I worry that my own self-censorship and inclination to avoid hurting others' feelings may have contributed to the problems highlighted above. While I never sold my soul, I have to admit that I feel as if I have rented it out for a good, long while. I feel an obligation to the public to more vigorously challenge what I consider unethical and irrational trends in my field. But there are limits to what I am willing to say or how I am willing to say it when acting in that role.
In addition to my role as a public scholar and teacher, however, I am also a private citizen of the United States. Unlike the rational, scholarly ideal described above, the forms of discourse that have most effectively influenced our current social, cultural, and political environment have incorporated a much broader range of rhetorical tools (e.g., shameless lying, manipulation of language, "gaslighting," making unreasonable demands, appeals to emotion, intimidation, wild speculation about others' hidden motives, etc.).
In this increasingly uncivil and irrational context of 'post-truth' narrative and identity politics, I find myself losing faith in the ability of appeals to universal, rational principles to effectively challenge bad faith actors. I am increasingly convinced that an adequate response to this phenomenon will likewise require a broader range of rhetorical tools than those I consider appropriate for the ideal approach to public scholarship.
I will continue to engage openly and constructively with anyone who acts in good faith, sincerely cares about the pursuit of truth, and accepts reciprocal terms of cooperation. I am willing to grant others’ an initial benefit of the doubt and assumption of good faith. I recognize every human being's inherent value and dignity. I have no authority, desire, or intention to violate anyone's rights. But rights come with sometimes inconvenient and unreciprocated responsibilities, and there are limits to my willingness to engage amicably with those who do not return the favor.
When acting as a private citizen, at least from this point forward, I intend to freely speak my mind. I will not prioritize any professional or social consideration above this fundamental democratic right. I reserve the right to take my own side in an argument and will not be intimidated or emotionally manipulated into staying silent about things I believe need to be said.
There’s certainly a chance that I’m crazy and/or dead wrong about my beliefs and commitments, but obviously I don’t think so or I would change them. If any of the potentially offensive views I will express in the coming months are shown to be unwarranted, I believe and hope that I will be humble enough to change my mind.
If I never share them publicly out of fear, however, then I will simply continue to quietly navigate the world based on unwarranted private beliefs held in ignorance. While I will try to never unnecessarily hurt anyone, the stakes are simply too high not to speak up about cultural and political developments I consider most threatening to the country and people I love (most of all, my family).
There are times to be nice and times to be right. The present seems to me a time to be right. But passionately speaking one’s mind in times like these comes with significant risks. There’s a good chance that some people will not like what I have to say or how I say it. I’m not sure if or how they might respond. I hope it is constructive. Who knows? Maybe no one will even pay attention. Or, maybe something I share will be personally meaningful to someone else.
I hope my worries about worst case scenarios are just figments of my imagination or paranoid delusions. But I don’t think they are. I imagine time will tell if I’m right. I suppose I will have to deal with the consequences either way. But, I’ll tell you what… I have never been more confident about anything than I am in my firm conviction that speaking up will be well worth the cost.
By Ben Bindewald
Public scholarship and teaching should, in my view, take an approach to inquiry that prioritizes logical argument, evidence, and the pursuit of truth (with an assumed universal commitment to objectivity as a regulatory ideal of inquiry). It should also assume a good faith commitment to reciprocal terms of cooperation. I intend to maintain my deep commitment to these norms in my role as a public scholar and teacher, but I am worried that many others do not believe they are obligated to do so.
The norms that dominate much of the academy, in my judgment, selectively permit some but not others to use their official public positions as platforms for the promotion of controversial political perspectives and highly subjective, narrow special interests rather than public knowledge. Specifically, much of the far-Left activist-oriented scholarship advocating for overt discrimination on the basis of group identity has been codified into institutional policy and practice.
Cloaked in the euphemistic language of "social justice, diversity, equity, and inclusion,"
irrationality and overt bigotry have become normalized within some spheres of the academy. Specifically, the pernicious beliefs advanced by activist-oriented scholars who elevate "critical" neo-Marxist, postmodernist, and identitarian/chauvinist politics above the ethical pursuit of public knowledge have become increasingly mainstream in American society.
This phenomenon, in my judgment, is perhaps the greatest threat to liberal democracy and reasonable pluralism and the strongest contributor to the present identitarian
conflict and ‘crisis of credibility’ facing the academy and other American social institutions.
I reject the notion that public institutions of higher education are appropriate venues through which to advance narrow special interests and private beliefs that are neither in service of the common good nor warranted with public reasons and evidence. I do not believe it is appropriate to expect university students or colleagues to uncritically affirm the validity of any claim. Nor would I ever expect colleagues or students to uncritically affirm my personal beliefs, subjective feelings, or private experiences.
When acting in that official capacity, I believe I should be as collegial toward others, open minded toward their beliefs, sensitive to their feelings, and objective in my evaluations of their work as possible without undermining the scholarly or ethical
standards I would like to see as norms in my field. I genuinely care about my students and colleagues, and I am fortunate that they almost always engage with me and each other in a spirit of mutual respect and good faith.
However, I worry that my own self-censorship and inclination to avoid hurting others' feelings may have contributed to the problems highlighted above. While I never sold my soul, I have to admit that I feel as if I have rented it out for a good, long while. I feel an obligation to the public to more vigorously challenge what I consider unethical and irrational trends in my field. But there are limits to what I am willing to say or how I am willing to say it when acting in that role.
In addition to my role as a public scholar and teacher, however, I am also a private citizen of the United States. Unlike the rational, scholarly ideal described above, the forms of discourse that have most effectively influenced our current social, cultural, and political environment have incorporated a much broader range of rhetorical tools (e.g., shameless lying, manipulation of language, "gaslighting," making unreasonable demands, appeals to emotion, intimidation, wild speculation about others' hidden motives, etc.).
In this increasingly uncivil and irrational context of 'post-truth' narrative and identity politics, I find myself losing faith in the ability of appeals to universal, rational principles to effectively challenge bad faith actors. I am increasingly convinced that an adequate response to this phenomenon will likewise require a broader range of rhetorical tools than those I consider appropriate for the ideal approach to public scholarship.
I will continue to engage openly and constructively with anyone who acts in good faith, sincerely cares about the pursuit of truth, and accepts reciprocal terms of cooperation. I am willing to grant others’ an initial benefit of the doubt and assumption of good faith. I recognize every human being's inherent value and dignity. I have no authority, desire, or intention to violate anyone's rights. But rights come with sometimes inconvenient and unreciprocated responsibilities, and there are limits to my willingness to engage amicably with those who do not return the favor.
When acting as a private citizen, at least from this point forward, I intend to freely speak my mind. I will not prioritize any professional or social consideration above this fundamental democratic right. I reserve the right to take my own side in an argument and will not be intimidated or emotionally manipulated into staying silent about things I believe need to be said.
There’s certainly a chance that I’m crazy and/or dead wrong about my beliefs and commitments, but obviously I don’t think so or I would change them. If any of the potentially offensive views I will express in the coming months are shown to be unwarranted, I believe and hope that I will be humble enough to change my mind.
If I never share them publicly out of fear, however, then I will simply continue to quietly navigate the world based on unwarranted private beliefs held in ignorance. While I will try to never unnecessarily hurt anyone, the stakes are simply too high not to speak up about cultural and political developments I consider most threatening to the country and people I love (most of all, my family).
There are times to be nice and times to be right. The present seems to me a time to be right. But passionately speaking one’s mind in times like these comes with significant risks. There’s a good chance that some people will not like what I have to say or how I say it. I’m not sure if or how they might respond. I hope it is constructive. Who knows? Maybe no one will even pay attention. Or, maybe something I share will be personally meaningful to someone else.
I hope my worries about worst case scenarios are just figments of my imagination or paranoid delusions. But I don’t think they are. I imagine time will tell if I’m right. I suppose I will have to deal with the consequences either way. But, I’ll tell you what… I have never been more confident about anything than I am in my firm conviction that speaking up will be well worth the cost.
By Ben Bindewald