The resignation
of Harvard President Lawrence Summers is only the most recent
incident in the chronic decline of many of America's most prestigious
colleges and universities. It has been a long process, perhaps
beginning with the Vietnam War era when college campuses became
the site of choice for many protests and radical political activity.
The issue
of the war in Vietnam was fueled by profound changes in American
life. A new generation which had been in its youth preceding and
during World War II was taking political and economic charge.
And another generation (born during and just after that war) was
forming a new youth culture.
Of course,
each generational transfer has its own character and circumstances.
In the 1960s and 1970s, there was an unprecedented velocity of
technological and economic change.
That generation
also knew only a state of world war, a circumstance we now narrate
as the Cold War between Western democratic capitalism and Eastern
totalitarian communism, a war fought mostly in the regions of
the so-called Third World or in undeveloped nations in Africa,
Asia and South America.
By the 1980s
and 1990s, the velocity of technological, medical and social change
became so rapid that the "modern" social contract no
longer seemed to be enforceable. The revolt of the 1960s became
normal standards as its youth took charge, in its turn, and a
new youth generation appeared. A protracted world war that had
begun in the 1930s against fascism and continued against totalitarian
communism was abruptly ended.
The computer
and the Internet indelibly altered contemporary life here and
throughout the world. A state of "world cold war" was
briefly succeeded by isolated global conflicts and localized problems.
America became a sole superpower. Then a new world war against
terrorism began.
While all
of this was going on, America's educational system remained structurally
the same. Yes, new discoveries were incorporated into curricula,
and technological modifications were made. But the basic structures
of primary, secondary and college education remained unchanged.
When the
phenomenon of "political correctness" appeared, it not
only was embraced by most of the nation's political, educational
and cultural elite, but it soon became dominant in the education
culture. This was most notable at the college and university level,
where so many people who who were alienated from contemporary
America life were drawn and found refuge in tenured sanctuary.
It was a
perfect arrangement for them. Radical professors could freely
express fundamental hostility to virtually all aspects of American
government, values and experiences. They were not accountable.
They had easy access to try to intimidate a whole generation of
American youth, and they were usually highly paid to do so.
Inasmuch
as "education" was a sanctified shibboleth in the United
States, the general public has appeared to tolerate the rise of
political correctness with only occasional mild objection because
it initially happened surreptitiously, and seemed to have little
impact on society as a whole.
Moreover,
it did not happen on every campus and did not overtake every college
department where it did occur. It did become dominant in the humanities
faculties of most campuses. Scientific, economic, and many professional
departments resisted this phenomenon, which Alan Dershowitz, a
prominent liberal Harvard faculty member, calls (when describing
the Summers resignation) "an academic coup d'etat."
Mr. Summers,
a brilliant former Secretary of the Treasury under President Clinton,
reportedly began making major reforms at Harvard when he took
over in 2001, and antagonized the entrenched faculty there (who
were politically radical but educationally reactionary). He became
publicly controversial when he said some politically incorrect
things, most of which seem to me (and, I think, to most Americans)
as accurate and intellectually reasonable. The "diehard left"
faction of Harvard's Faculty of Arts and Sciences, as Mr. Dershowitz
(himself an outspoken liberal civil libertarian) describes them,
have succeeded, by forcing Mr. Summers to resign, in corrupting
and humiliating a hitherto great institution one more time.
What's to
be done? It's up to the public, I suggest, that is, the customers
of the products of these academic institutions. Parents need to
ask more questions and to put aside pretentious reputations. Alumni
need to refuse to contribute to college endowments. Society at
large needs to reform faculty tenure, and to demand that faculty
members be accountable for what they say and do.
Forcing Mr.
Summers out of Harvard should be the last event of this shameful
period of American education. I suspect, however, that it won't
be. But when public opinion can no longer tolerate the intellectual
and moral destruction of its institutions of learning and free
speech, and it becomes unmistakeable that we can no longer compete
in the international marketplace because of this self-indulgence,
the campuses of America will experience a revolution that will
make the era of Vietnam War campus turmoil seem like throwing
sand in a playground.
Barry
Casselman writes about national politics for Preludium News Service.
Copyright
(c) 2006 News World Communications, Inc.
