The Revenge of the Wackadoodles

 

One of my favorite lines from the late singer/songwriter Warren Zevon is “Just when you thought it was safe to be bored / Trouble waiting to happen.” That lyric came to mind when I happened across an article in the Chronicle of Higher Education titled “Hamline President Goes on the Offensive.”  Well, that lyric and one of my most oft-used phrases, “Oh, bloody hell!”. 

This rather lengthy article—over 3000 words—deserves to be read in its entirety, even though it may involve a (free but annoying) registration process, but I’ll try to hit the highlights here. The author is Mark Berkson, the Chair of the Religion Department at Hamline University. His was for a very long while the only voice, or at least the only audible one, on the Hamline campus to come to the defense of erstwhile adjunct art history professor Erika López Prater as she was being railroaded by the school’s administration on absurd charges of Islamophobia. 

You may recall the incident, Gentle Reader. Dr. López Prater was teaching a course in global art history, in which she showed images of a couple of paintings depicting the prophet Muhammad. Recognizing that there are some strains of Islam in which viewing such images is regarded as idolatrous, she made it clear both in the course syllabus and on the day of the lecture in question that students who chose not to look at those particular photos were free not to do so, without penalty. 

Ah, but that left too little room for victimhood. So student Aram Wedatalla blithely ignored those warnings and (gasp!) saw those images… or at least she says she did, which is not necessarily the same thing. Wounded to the core by her own sloth and/or recklessness, she then howled to the student newspaper and, urged on by Nur Mood, the Assistant Director of Social Justice Programs and Strategic Relations (also the advisor to the Muslim Student Association, of which Wedatalla was president), to the administration. The banner was then raised high by one David Everett, the Associate Vice President of Inclusive Excellence. (Those folks at Hamline sure do like their pretentious job titles, don’t they?) 

Anyway, Everett proclaimed in an email sent to literally everyone at Hamline that López Prater had been “undeniably inconsiderate, disrespectful and Islamophobic.” To be fair, he didn’t identify her by name, but there weren’t a lot of folks teaching global art history. Everett was just getting warmed up. He subsequently co-authored, or at least jointly signed, a statement with university president Fayneese Miller that “respect for the observant Muslim students in that classroom should have superseded academic freedom.” Not at any university worthy of the name, it shouldn’t. Anyway, López Prater was de facto fired, because destroying the careers of scholars for even imaginary offenses has become a blood sport for administrators (and, in public colleges, for politicians). 

There followed a not insignificant period in which the university administration was justly savaged for their disregard for facts or for due process, and for the hypocrisy of their actions, which clearly contradicted the university’s pretensions to upholding academic freedom. These denunciations came not only from other art historians, but also from such organizations as the American Association of University Professors, the National Association of Scholars, the Federation for Individual Rights and Expression, the American Freedom Alliance, PEN America, and (oh, yeah…) the Muslim Public Affairs Council. It wasn’t pretty, but it was richly deserved. 

Finally, far too late and far too insincere, there was a sheepish admission that calling López Prater “Islamophobic” was “flawed.” Any with more cranial capacity than a turnip would say “freaking ridiculous,” but hey, it’s a step, right? 

This torrent of negative publicity no doubt also helped to catalyze a number of other faculty to evolve from their invertebrate state and join Professor Berkson in defense of López Prater’s perfectly reasonable pedagogy. The faculty, now with the courage engendered by a very one-sided national response to events at Hamline, ultimately voted overwhelmingly to demand that President Miller resign. Also, of course, López Prater sued the university. As far as I can determine, that case is ongoing. 

Like a lot of other people, I thought, despite some reservations, that it was now “safe to be bored,” to coin a phrase. The matter was now in the hands of the Trustees, and the only hope to salvage any scraps of what legitimacy Hamline may once have enjoyed would be to show Miller the door, taking Everett and Mood with her. They did not do so, of course. Instead, they behaved like Trustees (Regents, Councilors, whatever) have done at every place I ever worked in career that stretched into six decades, from the ‘70s to the ‘20s: they couldn’t admit that they were the folks who hired Miller and that they’d made a mistake. They punted, as such craven and often anti-intellectual bodies are wont to do. 

So Miller is still in place until she retires “early” in June. Of course, she says, the events of the last year or so had no effect on the decision to retire. Oh, and “No one was let go for showing an image.” Also, that Nigerian prince is absolutely above-board. Just so you know.  (Okay, maybe that last part is made up.)

But there was, to quote Zevon, trouble waiting to happen. A couple of weeks ago, Miller and her minions presented a forum with the heady (but, of course, misleading) title “Academic Freedom and Cultural Perspectives: Challenges for Higher Ed Today and Tomorrow.” An actual discussion offering different perspectives on how to weigh the sometimes competing values of academic freedom and respect for cultural differences would be welcome. But such things almost never happen. There’s virtually always a point of view imposed from above; in my experience, this “correct” position is seldom… well… correct. 

This event, at least according to Professor Berkson, whom I tend to believe, was staged for no reason other than to excuse the inexcusable behavior of the Hamline administration. The first two people to speak: Everett and Miller. The latter declared that this was an “offensive” move. She pronounced it to contrast it with “defensive,” although stressing the second syllable would almost certainly have made her statement more accurate. 

She claimed that the real threat to academic freedom was happening in places like Florida and Texas. Well, she’s right that there are threats in those places: just because some of the allegations are exaggerated doesn’t mean there isn’t legitimate cause for concern… or, indeed, for anger. But the idea that Miller and her ilk are somehow innocent because others are guilty, too? No, that argument has no merit. Dr. Berkson is kinder than I would be when he writes that “Miller fails to see that there are many ways that academic freedom can be threatened.” 

Anyway, the two major culprits in the art history debacle served to introduce the keynote speaker, Michael Eric Dyson. Dyson is an intelligent, well-educated man (PhD from Princeton), and an eloquent speaker. He is best known for his ongoing rhetoric that blacks in this country continue to suffer from centuries of ongoing oppression. (Perhaps that’s why his net worth is estimated at a paltry $5 million?) 

His speech, writes Berkson, made some useful points, but ultimately he contributed to what Berkson calls “essentially a full-throated defense of the administration’s actions against López Prater.” “If I got Muslim students,” Dyson said, “and I know what upsets them, I got the freedom to show what I want to show, but why would you? What’s your point? What’s your intention?” Berkson, himself an authority on Islam, responds:

It is clear that López Prater had no intent to upset anyone. She was teaching an important work of Islamic art, which is part of her job. She showed concern for her Muslim students by giving them multiple warnings, in writing and orally, to avert their eyes when she showed the image if they so wanted. This is nothing like the examples — some given more than once by many speakers at the event — of Holocaust denial, flat earth theory, fomenting an insurrection, and using the N-word in the classroom. None of these absurdly inappropriate disanalogies are remotely similar to the challenge that arose in López Prater’s art history class and that many of us regularly face — responsibly teaching relevant and suitable academic content that might be disturbing to some students.

Note to Dr. Dyson: don’t ask rhetorical questions if there’s somebody ready to answer them.

There followed a panel discussion featuring three bused-in speakers: Stacy Hawkins (her bio on the Rutgers law school website features the word “diversity” a dozen times, if that gives you an idea of her priorities), anti-racist activist Tim Wise, and Robin DiAngelo (whose books include such titles as White Fragility and Nice Racism). The sole representative of Hamline faculty was political scientist David Schultz; given the fact that Miller would rather chew on razor blades that allow Berkson a forum, Schultz is a more than reasonable representative of a professoriate more interested in developing students’ analytical skills than in inculcating them with a particular perspective. 

Berkson has a lot more to say in his article—about power dynamics involving administrators, faculty (with sub-categories of tenured, tenure-track, and adjunct) and students; about the fact that none of the panelists (except Schultz) addressed the López Prater case even obliquely; about the casual assumption on the part of the guest panelists (and the Hamline administration) that faculty don’t actually care about their students’ well-being; about the distinction between freedom of speech and academic freedom; about the fact that the AAUP recognizes the delicate balance between academic freedom and respect for differing perspectives, but nonetheless describes the actions of the Hamline administration as running a “de facto campaign of vilification” against López Prater based on an “inaccurate and harmful understanding of the nature of academic freedom in the classroom.” 

I do urge you to read Berkson’s entire article if this topic interests you at all. But I’ll close with this: university students are old enough to contemplate ideas that may make them uncomfortable. Perhaps these different perspectives are grounded in race, or religion, or gender, or politics—for these purposes, it doesn’t matter. Trying new things is sometimes scary, and the intellectual terrain that must be crossed can be something of a minefield, but negotiating those hazards is imperative for faculty and students alike. 

Figuring out how to make that crossing successfully is not merely an admirable goal; it is a necessary one. Colloquia featuring different approaches are desperately needed. And there are any number of examples of situations in which there’s a legitimate argument for both sides of an argument (e.g., if López Prater hadn’t offered students the ability to opt out). This isn’t it. Stacking the deck with speakers eager to defend an indefensible position isn’t helpful; it’s the equivalent of defending Lauren Boebert or Jamaal Bowman for their recent headline-making misadventures.

Professor Berkson closes by citing Professor Schultz, who said of the conversation: “Our discussion here about diversity and academic freedom ... is probably at the most superficial level that we can have. … At the end of the day, let’s have a real discussion.”  Berkson comments simply, “Amen.”  

“Amen,” indeed.

Note: as has often been the case of late, this post, or one very like it except for a couple of stylistic edits, first appeared on the Ethics Alarms page.

Universities Behaving Badly (Again)

Universities behaving badly is a sport that never takes an off-season.  The economic straits engendered by COVID, the right’s ongoing desire to censor anything they don’t understand, and the left’s overblown reaction to the killing of George Floyd have all merely added fuel to a fire that didn’t need stoking.  Three stories, then, chronologically by the date of Curmie’s lead source for each story.

#1. St. Mary’s University of Minnesota is precisely the kind of institution that will take the greatest hit from the multiple factors affecting enrollment: politically-motivated cynicism regarding the legitimacy of higher education, unraveling support for student aid programs, declining population numbers for post-adolescents, perceived demand for outstanding brick-and-mortar facilities… and then add COVID into the mix.  St. Mary’s is a good school, but their “sticker price” is over $51,000 a year, more than twice as much as what an in-state student (and over 75% more than an out-of-state student) would pay at Winona State in the same city.  And whereas they have a good reputation, they’re not a Macalester or a Grinnell, whose graduates have instant credibility with prospective employers.  So it’s no surprise that they experienced a 13.5% drop in enrollment from fall 2019 to fall 2021.

Nor, alas, is it a surprise that their administration did two things in response: 1). panic and 2). use the enrollment decline as an excuse to abandon their mission in precisely the manner the administration had no doubt wanted to do for some time.  Curmie should probably mention here that he knows a little (not a lot) more about St. Mary’s than about most comparable universities: he has a friend who used to teach there, and the theatre programs at St. Mary’s and at Curmie’s employer at one time had similar exchange programs with the same British conservatory.  In some bizarre way, this makes it personal.

“Makes what personal?” you may well ask, Gentle Reader.  Well, this press release, announcing the discontinuation of some eleven academic majors, and a “new program portfolio…concentrated in business, technology, and the sciences.”  Even if Curmie thought the idea was a good one, pondering such jargon as “program portfolio” is enough to nauseate the hardiest constitution.  But, of course, turning a once-reputable university into an over-priced trade school isn’t at all a good idea; it is, in fact, remarkably stupid in every way possible, including the only one the St. Mary’s leadership seems to care about: financial viability.

Three years ago, Curmie savaged Goucher College for eliminating a host of majors and minors and pretending to remain a liberal arts institution.  Curmie directs you to that piece, Gentle Reader, where he makes many of the same arguments that apply to the St. Mary’s case: the schools are similar in many ways, and the betrayal of core values is (hat tip to Stevie Nicks) hauntingly familiar. 

But, frighteningly, the St. Mary’s case is even worse.  Both schools, of course, eliminated majors in the arts—hide-bound anti-intellectuals fear and loathe creativity even as they pretend to embrace it—and Goucher stupidly dropped math and physics, as well.  But if you’re going to call yourself a university, the list of majors that are absolutely, no-question-about-it, mandatory begins like this: 1). English.  2). History.  Guess which two majors are included on the St. Mary’s hit list.  Oh, and the erstwhile university seeks to impart its Catholic values by eliminating the theology major, as well.  Sigh.

Please allow Curmie to quote himself in a comment on his personal Facebook page about a different topic:

It’s the corporatization of higher education. Once upon a time, the goal was an informed citizenry, broadly knowledgeable and capable of critical thinking. But if you were one of the idiot politicians or CEOs who run the country, would you want that? No, you would want compliant drones, capable enough to do menial work but not to realize what a gaggle of wankers are at the top of the food chain... but you’d still want someone else to train them for you so you didn’t have to pay for that.

Sometimes Curmie hates it when he’s right.

#2. Old Dominion University is another well-respected institution that did something remarkably wrong-headed.  Curmie’s central source is a recent article in the Chronicle of Higher Education, but that’s likely behind a paywall, so you, Gentle Reader, can check out the basics here.

Dr. Allyn Walker (they/them) is a trans scholar, a now-former Assistant Professor at ODU, who wrote a book titled A Long, Dark Shadow: Minor-Attracted People and Their Pursuit of Dignity.  Anticipating backlash, Walker makes it clear in the introduction to the book that “This book does not promote sexual contact between adults and minors” (emphasis in original), and sent university leaders talking points with which to respond to whatever outrage might ensue.  The book, in fact, is in large part the result of Walker’s discovery that there are adults attracted to children but who avoid any sexual contact.  Wait… really?  There’s a difference between having an impulse and acting on it?  Who knew, right?

Here’s Walker, describing the parameters of the question: “There is no morality or immorality attached to attraction to anyone because no one can control who they’re attracted to at all. In other words, it’s not who we’re attracted to that’s either OK or not OK. It’s our behaviors and responding to that attraction that are either OK or not OK.”  This argument may not be unassailable, but to suggest it’s outside the realm of legitimate speculation is utterly ridiculous… which is why professional idiots like Tucker Carlson clambered over each other to jump on the Stupid Train first and hardest.  (It doesn’t appear that Walker was slandered in the narrow legal sense of the term, but the end result is all but indistinguishable.)

The complaint, of course, was with the term “minor-attracted”; they accused Walker of advocating for pedophiles.  In strictly technical linguistic terms, they’re actually right… well, sort of.  The term “pedophilia” actually refers to the attraction rather than anything more than that, but it has come to be synonymous with “child molester.”  Actually, of course, the Greek word φιλία (philía) suggests the kind of love between friends or equals… or that big city in Pennsylvania named for “brotherly love” would have a very creepy name, indeed.  But Curmie has strayed… back to the subject at hand.

In one of the first posts in this iteration of Curmie’s blogging life, some dozen years ago, Curmie wrote about the case of Gloria Y. Gadsden, who was suspended from her position at East Stroudsburg State University for two Facebook posts: “Had a good day today, didn't want to kill even one student.:-) Now Friday was a different story...” and “Does anyone know where I can find a very discrete [sic] hitman, it's been that kind of day.”  Anyone who has taught at any level for more than a fortnight empathizes with Dr. Gadsden; few of us have hired hitmen, though, however much the short-term temptation seemed appealing.

With the exception of the fact that Gadsden was joking and Walker was specifically and intentionally calling attention to the distinction between thought and action, the cases are pretty similar, up to and including university administrators once again demonstrating their uncanny ability to demonstrate hypocrisy, cowardice, and insufficient fiber in the diet simultaneously. 

In the Chronicle article linked above, reporter Emma Pettit wonders, “Did Old Dominion make a difficult trade-off between principle and public safety? Or did it cut and run when asked to protect a scholar with controversial ideas?”  Oh, that one is easy, Emma.  The latter.  A university worthy of the name would make a very public statement in support of academic freedom, even for a mere assistant professor.  (Side note for those not in academia: the overwhelming majority of assistant professors are untenured, and academic freedom doesn’t completely kick in until tenure.)  But, of course, the university, like most, is run by intellectual cowards and risk-averse morons.  Walker was promptly suspended and then “by mutual consent” (wherever is that eau de cow pasture coming from?), they resigned.

All of this happened last fall, but the Chronicle article brought it back into Curmie’s consciousness.  Curmie has no idea whether Dr. Walker’s book, or teaching, or anything else, is worthy of tenure or even of a contract extension.  But there is no question that Old Dominion checked all the boxes of how not to respond to a situation like this.  The good news, at least for Walker if not also for the profession, is that they’ve just signed on as a postdoctoral fellow at (get this!) the Johns Hopkins University’s Moore Center for Prevention of Child Sexual Abuse.  Curmie is pretty certain that hire will attract a little right-wing attention, too.

#3.  Illinois State University, feeling compelled to show that the left can be as stupid as the right, has introduced a new graduation requirement, to begin with incoming students in the fall of 2023, for a course in “diversity, equity, and inclusion.” 

Such courses already exist, of course, and already fulfill general education requirements. History/Sociology 111 (American Diversity: Contested Visions Of The U.S. Experience), and Latin America and Latino Studies/Sociology 109 (Introduction to Latina/O Studies) both fulfill the United States Traditions section of the GenEd requirements.  One suspects that virtually any course that checks the box for the Individuals and Civic Life section, while not focused exclusively on IDEAS issues (that’s Inclusion, Diversity, Equity, and Access in Society, for those of you who might be jargon-deprived), will certainly spend a lot of time there.  Anthropology/English/Language, Literature and Culture 143 (Unity and Diversity in Language), Family and Consumer Services 222 (Cultural Diversity in Dress), Management and Quantitative Methods 120 (Diversity, Inclusion and Equity in the Workplace) all fulfill the Social Sciences requirement.

Ah, but you see, a student could, hypothetically, avoid any of these courses by taking different coursework in the humanities and social sciences, the same way they can avoid Western Civilization, a single course in a foreign language, or a second semester of English Comp, and we can’t have that.  So now there’s going to be a new category, and students will have to take at least one “IDEAS-approved” course, although exactly which courses will be so designated has apparently yet to be determined.

Usually, Curmie raises a skeptical eyebrow at protestations from the right about “indoctrination,” but not this time.  Be it noted that Curmie absolutely supports the availability of IDEAS courses.  But requiring such coursework really is an example of “adopt this ideology or fail.”  How does Curmie know?  Because he’s seen how these programs operate.  Victimhood trumps excellence every time, or close enough to it not to matter.  This is not to say that such courses necessarily lack legitimacy or rigor, but whereas Curmie can teach Racine without being a monarchist, Brecht without being a communist, or Kālidāsa without being Hindu, a professor who teaches an IDEAS course without believing in a particular politico-philosophical perspective and indeed expecting agreement from students is roughly as common as AOC saying something nice about Donald Trump.  Don’t expect a lot of contemplation of the fact that goals of “inclusion” and “equity” are often in opposition, for example.

Of course, Illinois State is hardly alone in all this.  Looking for some source material for this essay, Curmie stumbled across the fact that a different ISU, Iowa State University, had already instituted such a policy, and indeed maintained it in defiance of an equally stupid state law.  Curmie has consciously avoided looking up Indiana State and Idaho State, lest there be a grand slam.

Curmie isn’t sure whether to be somewhat relieved or even more apprehensive that he’s seen it all (well, nearly all) before in 40+ years of college and university teaching.  The Big Bad Problem was once sexism/sexual assault, then homophobia, then transphobia, and now racism… with a couple of short-term stops at Islamophobia after the Iran hostage crisis and again after 9/11.  In all cases, the response to a real problem was an initially unrestrained over-reaction: one case of date rape on campus meant every incoming freshman had to endure a “training” session.  Guess what?  The tiny percentage of prospective perpetrators didn’t pay any attention, and the overwhelming majority soon tuned out, as well.  “Don’t do something that you already know to be stupid, immoral, and illegal” doesn’t really need to be repeated for two hours, even if there’s a badly-produced skit involved.

We, which is to say academia in general rather than an individual institution, endured all that and eventually settled on reasonably intelligent policies to protect the rights of actual victims (or prospective victims) without labeling everyone and their cousin a perpetrator.  The system isn’t perfect, but it’s better than it was at striking that precarious balance. 

This situation seems different, though: both more sinister and more permanent.  Here’s a case where Curmie hopes, down the road, to be proven wrong.  In the meantime: Curmie, although officially retired, taught a course a semester this academic year, but isn’t currently on the schedule to teach again in the fall.  As he looks around at the current state of higher education, especially at those in leadership positions, he increasingly believes this to be a consummation devoutly to be wished.

University Follies

It will come as no surprise to Curmiphiles that this blog highlights education issues a lot.  And it’s usually not terribly complimentary to those in charge.  This time around, it’s University Follies.  Apologies in advance; this is going to take a while.

Let’s start with what, frighteningly enough, is the least outrageous of the stories.

Aqsa Khan

Cal State Long Beach grad student Aqsa Khan was unsatisfied with the Psychology Department’s treatment of minority students.  Disturbed by the response (or lack of response) from departmental administrators, she sent an e-mail to administrators and graduate students, using BeachBoard, the university’s online learning platform.  She writes that:

The program tokenizes minority students by pushing one or two to the forefront in order to appear diverse while doing little to actually help the majority of BIPOC students in any tangible manner, if not outright ignoring and denying them opportunities. In reality, the faculty this department employs and continues to employ have created an inequitable climate in this program.

Not surprisingly, the powers-that-be didn’t take kindly to this assessment; no one likes to be perceived, rightly or wrongly, in this light.  Curmie, of course, has no idea as to whether Ms. Khan’s criticisms are legitimate.  Perhaps she is highlighting actual issues of concern; perhaps she is exaggerating; perhaps her discontent is entirely misplaced.  What isn’t in question is her right to express those opinions.

Well, at least it isn’t in question in the mind of anyone who knows anything about either professional ethics or the U.S. Constitution.  Unfortunately, the list of people who qualify under either of those criteria does not include any decision-makers in the CSULB Psychology Department.

Khan was charged with the “use of computing facilities and resources to send obscene or intimidating and abusive messages” and the “use of computing facilities, campus network, or other resources to interfere with the work of another.”  Both of these charges are, to coin a phrase, bullshit.

It would be impossible for any rational being to interpret anything in Khan’s message as “obscene.”  That leaves only “intimidating” and “abusive” from that first charge.  Khan makes serious allegations against a fellow graduate student, but it would be difficult to call them abusive; anyone intimidated by Khan’s remarks lacks the backbone to perform even competently in an academic environment.

As for “interfering with the work of another,” well, all Curmie can see is that someone in a cushy corner office might have to do their damned job and respond to a student concern.  This would, of course, interfere with that bureaucrat’s conception of their (ahem) profession: playing solitaire on the office computer.

Anyway, the Star Chamber gave Khan a year of academic probation and a directive to submit a two-page “action plan” that amounts to “don’t bother us,” amidst concerns that Khan might “seek a wider audience when the investigation concludes, and she is not satisfied with the results.”  At least they got that last part right.

Curmie need hardly mention that FIRE (the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education) got involved very quickly to remind the university that even grad students have 1st amendment rights.  Curmie has long considered FIRE a net positive; he’s beginning to think they’re essential.

FIRE, of course, is often regarded as a right-leaning organization because many of the cases in which they intervene involve the suppression of the free speech of conservative faculty or students.  That’s why the next cases are important in demonstrating that the only ideology FIRE seeks to uphold is that the US Constitution is indeed the law of the land, irrespective of what university administrators (in particular) think about the subject.

Two separate lawsuits have been filed of late by two now former professors at Collin College, a juco in McKinney, Texas.  Historian Dr. Lora Burnett and education professor Dr. Suzanne Jones have both claimed that the college severed ties with them in retaliation for, among other things, critical comments about the school’s COVID policies.  FIRE is actively representing Burnett; it’s reasonable to assume they’ll soon be in Jones’s corner, as well.

In addition to having the audacity to having an opinion about an issue which directly concerns them but is also a matter of public concern, Burnett had some harsh words for then-VP Mike Pence on Twitter, and Jones was one of the organizers of the Texas Faculty Association, described by Inside Higher Ed as “function[ing] somewhat like a union but… not recognized, per Texas state law prohibiting collective bargaining among public employees.”

Lora Burnett

But, as they say in the late-night infomercials, wait!  That’s not all!  There’s the whole business of a text message exchange (which the college spent over $14,000 in legal fees in an unsuccessful attempt to keep from going public) between Collin president H. Neil Matkin and GOP state representative Jeff Leach in which the latter wonders portentously if Burnett is paid by state funds and Matkin promises to “deal with it.” 

There’s the fact that Jones’s most recent performance review describes her as “a dedicated professor with a deep passion for education,” and that the renewal of her contract was supported by the associate dean, dean, and provost.  There’s the fact that there are numerous other such cases that just didn’t result in lawsuits… and the fact that Collin was listed by FIRE as one of the ten worst colleges in the country for free speech. 

Suzanne Jones

And there’s an article from this April about Matkin in the Chronicle of Higher Education.  (This may be behind a paywall, Gentle Reader.  If so, my apologies… but trust me, Matkin is portrayed by everyone except the fatcats on the board and a few Republican legislators as an authoritarian, possibly racist, asshole, unconcerned with actual education.)

There’s yet more, which you can check out at the links included above should you desire to do so.  We’ll close with two thoughts.  First, there’s the fact that Collin doesn’t offer tenure to faculty; these cases demonstrate both why that is so (so idiot administrators—the usual apologies for redundancy—can pretend they’re feudal lords) and why that’s a real problem (because dissent is essential to a functioning democracy and its educational systems).

Second, here’s FIRE’s Greg H. Greubel:

A professor expressing their political views on social media is not insubordination, it’s core protected speech.  Colleges and universities are supposed to be a space for individuals to engage in fearless debate on controversial issues, not a place where criticizing your boss gets you fired. If professors like Lora Burnett cannot inform the public about their views on public issues and problems on campus, our democracy is weakened. This case shows that when colleges treat professors as disposable, academic freedom and faculty expressive rights become disposable, too.

Yeah, what he said, even though that first sentence should have a semi-colon instead of a comma. 😉

It’s hard to figure out where to put the following story in an essay that’s sort of arranged in order of increasing awfulness.  It doesn’t fit the “free speech” motif of the rest of these incidents, but it sure is about a university behaving badly.  Indeed, it’s incomprehensible that anyone capable of even semi-articulate expression would think this is a good idea.

So we move on to Michigan State University, where there is apparently a shortage of student labor in the dining halls.  OK, that’s understandable enough, given the pandemic and all.  And let’s face it, it’s not a terribly glamorous job.  So, Gentle Reader, what do you suppose the university did to rectify the problem?  Possibly raise the pay to attract more employees?  Well, they did eventually get around to that, but first they had a better idea: get faculty and staff to volunteer to sling hash.  Such was the import of an e-mail from Vennie Gore, senior vice president for residential and hospitality services and auxiliary enterprises (what a title!).

That’s right, they’re understaffed because they don’t pay enough for it to be worthwhile for college students to do the job, so the obvious solution is to not pay anybody and to de facto extort faculty into this allegedly volunteer activity.  Faculty have been under extreme pressure in recent months: administrators have used the global health crisis and the ensuing financial crunch to enact whatever harebrained schemes infect their underutilized crania. 

Faculty, librarians, and all those other personnel considered irrelevant to the enterprise, are sacrificed so we can be sure to give the president a raise equal to the annual salary of a full professor or ensure that the football team doesn’t have to enter the season with a mere 20 coaches and other full-time staff.  Priorities, after all.

Faculty have also been pushed to the limit with demands that they accommodate in-person, livestream and online students simultaneously, adapt to new technologies that are evolving at a dizzying pace, and respond to an increasingly entitled student population and administrations that manifest equal parts narcissism and paranoia.  All this extra work, of course, would be for the same or even less money than they were making in pre-COVID days.

Moreover, any faculty member who isn’t tenured is absolutely under threat of being let go in light of “budget constraints,” so the right to refuse is rather like the right to vote for Fidel Castro’s opponent in Cuba a generation or two ago.  Had Curmie received such a request (demand?), he would have responded with a two-word message that rhymes with “duck poo.”  But Curmie was tenured until entering into semi-retirement this year.  And now, the prospect of losing a part-time gig that pays less than he’s worth, a job he accepted simply to keep his mind fresh, doesn’t really constitute a threat.  But administrations are all about “team players,” which is code for “silent acquiescence” (see above, re Collin College).

Oh-so-curiously, it appears that actually paying more dropped the staffing shortage significantly.  Who’da thunk it, right?  The university could hire a lot of student workers if they got rid of Vennie Gore and his $302,000 salary (plus perqs).  The university would be better served by leaving that job vacant rather than having it staffed by a clueless buffoon, and the fact that he still seems to be employed is a stain on the university’s reputation.

Curmie is reliably informed (by Beloved Spouse, who works in financial aid) that there are no governmental restraints on work-study job salaries.  The total amount a university is allocated is set by the government, but hourly wages are at the discretion of the employer.  So pay them what you need to, and cut some of those work study jobs for which students are de facto paid to do their homework or play games online.  Trust me, they are manifold.

And yet one more observation…  Years ago, the VP for Development at the college where Curmie then taught told a group of faculty that over time a well-managed portfolio could be expected to yield 6% over inflation.  Let’s make it easy and call it just 6%.  Michigan State’s endowment is $3.4 billion.  6% of that is $204 million.  That would fund… let’s see… 13,600 student half-time workers at $15/hour, for 50 weeks a year.  Remember that when you hear about how MSU can’t afford to do otherwise.

Finally, we move on to the There But for the Grace of God story as far as Curmie is concerned.  All Curmie knew about Coastal Carolina University prior to this episode is that they used to employ one of his former students, and that they have a good (if over-rated) football team.  But now there’s this.  And we’re back in FIRE territory.

About six weeks ago, a group of students walked into a theatre classroom at CCU to see a list of names written on a whiteboard.  Turns out, all of those names were of BIPOC students.  Any normal person might wonder why those names appeared on the board.  The more perspicacious might consider who was last in the room.  But nay.  It would be a gross understatement to suggest that students leapt to erroneous conclusions about the nature of the list; rather, they hurtled themselves into an ecstasy of victimhood. 

Overcome by a mix of raging paranoia and an apparent orgiastic fervor to be regarded as persecuted, the students entering the room presumed with literally no evidence that the names were intended to “single out” non-white students, apparently to some unspecified nefarious purpose.  Students proceeded to organize an on-campus protest a few days later rather than attend class.

Actually, the singling out part is true, but with nothing remotely similar to the intent manufactured by the wannabee victims.  Indeed, it quickly became clear that a guest artist had been working with a group of BIPOC students who wanted to get to know other non-white students in the program, so… wait for it… they brainstormed a list of other BIPOC students to possibly hang out with.  Literally no one seems to dispute that this was the purpose of the list.

Nonetheless, the visiting artist and the faculty Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee both issued apologies, the former describing her actions as “thoughtless and careless” (it’s unclear whether it was the writing of the list or the failure to erase the whiteboard that merits such self-flagellation), the latter describing itself as “deeply sorry,” saying the incident “should never have happened” (well, that part is true), and promising to “[discuss] with faculty and students the gravity of the situation.”  Of course, the only part of this incident with any gravity at all is the apparent willingness of students to substitute fantasy for reality and subsequently fail to admit they were wrong, and the abject failure of DEI committee members to observe, à la Gertrude Stein, that there is no there there.

And now we’re back at the infomercials, because THAT’S NOT ALL!

Steven Earnest

Dr. Steven Earnest (who teaches pretty much the same courses Curmie has taught for many years) thought this was all a bit much, and responded (as written): “Sorry but I dont think its a big deal. Im just sad people get their feelings hurt so easily. And they are going into Theatre?”  Add a handful of apostrophes, and he’s absolutely right.  Ah, but the folks who had just been proven to have falsely accused the department of racial insensitivity decided they’d give it one more try, and therefore falsely accused Earnest of that transgression.  (Be it noted: although it is unlikely, it is not outside the realm of plausibility that Dr. Earnest does harbor racist thoughts.  This e-mail, however, offers no evidence to support that charge.)

So far, though, it’s just a bunch of post-adolescents acting like post-adolescents and members of a DEI committee feeling a mixture of self-importance and the need to justify their existence.  Curmie has seen more than a few variations on these themes for decades.

Ah, but then the idiot dean (again, apologies for redundancy) had to get in on the act.  It’s unclear exactly when Earnest sent his e-mail, but it was in response to the committee’s message, sent after 5:00 pm on a Friday.  The following Monday, Dean Claudia Bornholdt told Earnest not to come to his classes and to send her his syllabus, effectively suspending him from his teaching duties!

AND THAT’S STILL NOT ALL!

According to FIRE, Earnest’s lawyer says the university is now starting termination proceedings against him.  Needless to say, Curmie, who may or may not have sent an e-mail describing as “Stalinist” a draft “anti-racist” manifesto distributed to faculty in his theatre department a year or so ago, is more than a little concerned that Dr. Earnest is going through all this for the apparent crime of noticing that the emperor was… erm… déshabillé.

Also, Curmie can't resist the obvious joke here, noting the absolute Importance of Being Earnest.  OK, that’s out of the system.  Moving on...

Alas, there are even more stories like these out there.  Colleges and universities are being pulled apart in a way Curmie has never seen before.  Repressive forces are stronger than ever, and they’re coming from all political and ideological angles.  It’s not too late to restore thought, the search for truth, and the necessity of differing opinions as the center-pieces of higher education.  But we’re speeding towards that cliff, and if we don’t want to be Thelma and Louise ten seconds after the movie ends, we damned sure need to hit the brakes.  Hard.  Now.