Fiat lux
Fiat lux
Last Saturday afternoon I had an opportunity to see the film “Lincoln”, $10 very well spent. On the assumption that the events depicted therein bear some reasonable resemblance to actual history, and on that score I shall defer to those whose expertise eclipses my own dim understanding of what happened in the final months of the American Civil War, it was an interesting and rather moving testimony to the struggle experienced by many politicians as they attempt to negotiate the narrow line between the polarities of idealism and pragmatism. Does the end ever justify the means? And if it does, then what price do we pay as human beings in the process? These questions are no doubt easier to answer with the hindsight provided by the passage of time; at the actual moment, however, they prey rather heavily on the psyches of the individuals involved. Fortunately, deans don’t often find themselves in similar circumstances!
Also striking, once again if depicted accurately, was the level of discourse, whether at presidential cabinet meetings or during debates in the House of Representatives. I think we would be hard pressed today to find such levels of wit and erudition in our own parliament, let alone in the meetings of our innumerable committees or the University Senate. It seems that oratory is rapidly becoming a lost art; and, if so, I believe we are the losers in that process. A good debate has the power to change minds, and not just superficially. It opens up the possibility of fundamental shifts in one’s thinking, although some might find that very thought inimical and hence objectionable. If so, however, their place is not at a university. Universities, even more than our parliament or the American Congress, are a forum for ideas. We come here to be challenged, to have our previous understandings overturned, and to grow intellectually. This is no place for those whose minds are already firmly made up, or who abjure the very possibility of change. In my notional “ideal university”, no subject or thought is forbidden. There is no concept of blasphemy or political correctness. This principle lies at the heart of what I understand by the concept of “academic freedom”, a concept that I value and guard jealously. And in that I am certainly not alone.
All of which brings me to the report of the Commission on Inter-Cultural, Inter-Religious and Inter-Racial Relations on Campus, a document which has stirred up quite a hornets’ nest in recent weeks, with a series of letters posted on-line and discussions both at the FASS Faculty Board and at last week’s meeting of the University Senate. And as with so much in life, I am not one of those who sees this report in terms of binary polarities.
The Commission was asked for its advice on a very real problem: namely, the complaints registered from time to time about the absence of civil discourse on our campus, particularly with regard to certain politically-charged subjects. Regardless of our views on the matters in question, this lack of civility does on occasion happen, mirroring the larger world in which we occupy a tiny place. That is a reality, and one with which many universities are struggling. And we do need to talk about how we handle this.
In the long run it matters not whether the methodology of the report is or is not flawed, for it is clear that some groups – probably including many not even mentioned in the report – do feel marginalized, intimidated, and on occasion even physically threatened. The only question worth asking, it seems to me, is what can or should our reaction be to that reality. In my view, it is always wrong if anyone is bullied or threatened. Our concern should focus on the idea, not the individual who expresses it, and no one should ever feel that there are unpleasant consequences for voicing an idea, honestly held. There is no place in my ideal university for iconoclasts, nor for those who won’t listen respectfully to the opinions of others, no matter how distasteful or misguided they feel such thoughts to be. But — and there is a “but” — at the same time, we can’t expect to come to a university and not have our ideas challenged. And thus there is similarly no place at my ideal university for those who feel threatened when their thinking is held up to scrutiny. If you don’t want to put your thoughts and beliefs to the test, then this is not the right place for you. And yes, that does mean that on occasion you may feel threatened to some extent, but it is an intellectual threat, not physical, and something which a true scholar should embrace and indeed welcome. Having our ideas challenged and “threatened” is the only basis for intellectual growth.
At Carleton we should strive to do everything possible to make all groups – be they cultural, religious or racial – sufficiently welcome that they feel comfortable entering the arena of dialogue and debate. This means an attitude of healthy respect for those who are different from us, for the “other” in our individual worlds. At the same time, having respect does not mean that we allow their views to go unchallenged. The world does change, and what was probably acceptable to a majority of Americans in 1864 was prohibited by an amendment to their constitution in January of the following year. That happened because there was a debate, and as a result some of those responsible for making laws changed their minds. Changing minds is the catalyst for the evolution of human society. Universities function as the cauldron for those debates, and play a valuable service to society in so doing. But we can’t allow those who participate to be burned in the process. Attack the idea, but always maintain respect for the individual who professes it. As Alcuin wrote to Charlemagne in 794, following the military defeat of the Avars, we should not be “praedatores”, but rather “praedicatores”. Those two additional lettters make an enormous difference. Real change happens when we convince those who hold opposing views to change their thinking, not when we force them into silence and submission through brute force or intimidation. And if as individuals we are serious about making our world a different and better place, then it is real change that we want to effect: change that happens in the mind and heart and is truly genuine, not the lip service to change that stems from coercion or some perceived physical threat.
As we head into the holiday season, a time when there may be greater opportunities for reflection on who we are and what we do, I offer my very best wishes to all readers of these weekly musings for a restful and restorative pause from the frenetic grind of the academic term. For my Christian friends, in the coming days I ask you to ponder the feasts of St Nicholas (embodiment of charity) and St Lucy (patroness of light, both physical and intellectual), as you prepare to celebrate the birth of your principal role model on December 25th. For my Jewish friends, I wish you a very happy Hanukkah, also a festival of lights, beginning on the 25th of Kislev. This is a time for thinking about identity, about the miracle experienced long ago by Judas Maccabeus, and of rededication to the principles which you hold dear. As for me, I shall be acknowledging the winter solstice, the rebirth of ‘sol invictus’, and giving thanks for the experience of having lived through another wonderful year. See you in 2013!
2 Comments
Perhaps the Dean should consult the OED for a definition of an iconoclast. One definition is: “One who assails or attacks cherished beliefs or venerated institutions on the ground that they are erroneous or pernicious.” Given his generally sensible post, I believe the Dean may want to revise his statement, “There is no place in my ideal university for iconoclasts.” Surely there is. Isn’t there?
Thanks, Amy. You are indeed correct that I have used the term in its original, and much narrower sense, and I should probably have found a better word. My own particular field of academic study is Byantium and Italy in the early Middle Ages, the period of the Iconoclast movement which gave rise to this word. Iconoclasm was official policy in Constantinople for much of the 8th and early 9th centuries, and involved the prohibition of all figural religious art, including the destruction of earlier images. The iconoclasts of that day were driven by an ideology which permitted no exceptions, nor even the possibility that they might be wrong. Opponents were persecuted with some considerable vigour. The word carries a different nuance today, as you have pointed out. A better term might have been “blinkered fundamentalists”, which is what I intended it to mean. Thanks for reading!