Bare necessities of education

     In a nation founded on the principles of democratic rule, one of the most coveted rights Americans cling to is their freedom of expression. Taken for granted as if in an abstracted and theoretical lab-country, the functionality of this right often deteriorates when confronted with the problems that it generates as a sort of democratic backwash. An educational setting heightens these apparent conflicts, introducing large groups of impressionable minds to new freedoms, a new sense of individuality, while still imposing restrictions on their words and actions. The question is one of rank, that is to say, determining where free speech fits among our system of values in an educational setting. There exists a related disagreement between groups of scholars, regarding what things prove to be most essential for the security of education as a system, or what value set is to be placed above other priorities for the sake of education’s own functionality. Absolutists regard the Constitution’s definition of free speech as the ultimate priority worth protecting, in any setting or scenario. Others would contend context merits the dissolution of this right, and the safety of the individual is to be valued above it. At odds with both of these groups are those who see education’s goal as being the pursuit of truth, and their crusade allows them to knock down free speech and individuals’ well-being a few pegs, letting knowledge rise to the top priority in pursuit. These three divisions among academics share some common values and approaches, but their ultimate arguments differentiate them enough to make any middle-ground appear especially faint. As they develop their impressions of education’s fundamental base, the cornerstone marking it from other programmatic institutions, we have no choice but to check the geometry of this scholastic structure and wonder just how many corners it can and should have.

     Having already established that democracy is a necessary tool in the political realm for the functionality of our nation, there are many scholars who assert it is also the driving force in the development of our educational system. Robert M. O'Neil argues that the nature of an institution of higher education is just as democratic as the popular vote, and so the legislation of our government, mainly the Constitution, should translate as accurately as possible to this particular setting. "All public colleges and universities," he writes, "are bounded by the First Amendment [and many private campuses] pride themselves on observing the standards of expression at least as high" (15). As he analyzes speech codes, regulations within a certain setting that limit or ban speech beyond actual legal limitations, O'Neil also remains concerned with what a university ought and ought not to do. By implementing such restrictions, colleges are stepping out of their jurisdiction and their fundamental duty to their students. He quotes Committee A of the American Association of University Professors as stating, "By proscribing any ideas, a university sets an example that profoundly disserves its academic mission ... [A] college or university sets a perilous course if it seeks to differentiate between high-value and low-value speech" (qtd. in O'Neil 22). Not only does this prescribe "a certain arrogance" about the power they hold (22), but it also reveals the educational system as subjective, opening the floor to discover flaws in its subjectivity. That's not to say these universities should turn the other way and sacrifice individual comfort and safety to let free speech run its course, but, "[a]bove all, universities should approach racism, homophobia, sexism, and anti-Semitism through what they do best - education" (25). O'Neil recognizes the problems that unrestricted speech can cause, but also acknowledges its necessity in an open environment that calls for discussion and debate, given "the very nature of a university as a place of free inquiry" (22). Similarly, Rodney A. Smolla’s approach to education is heavily dependant upon preexisting Constitutional values. Recognizing that “freedom of speech has its costs, and tolerance of even the speech of the intolerant is one of them” (169), Smolla is willing to take in free speech despite its negative effects. Balanced in their current composition, he finds the First Amendment provides for him a solid enough foundation on its own. Although he sympathizes with victims of hate speech, a consequence of some free expression, and calls for the humanization of institutions dealing with the sort of scenarios related to the application of these laws. Again, he sees free speech as being a fundamental element not just to our nation, but to our educational systems. He approaches the disturbing dehumanization of racism, etc. with a degree of optimism and with O’Neil’s logic about education’s core contribution: "In a just society, reason and tolerance must triumph over prejudice and hate. But that triumph is best achieved through education, not coercion" (169).
     There are some who would contend that free speech has no place in an academic setting, that educational institutions' priorities should be focused on the protection of the individual. Kathryn Abrams testifies that free speech, in its current absolute form, is completely unnecessary in an academic setting and that "we need limits on free expression in intellectual life" (1). She writes, "First Amendment rhetoric and principles are being applied in contexts where incursions on expression are accomplished not by legal restrictions or sanctions, but by protests, condemnations or requests for inclusions" (4), implying institutions recognize they are stepping out of their place to implement restrictions they have no right to enact only to concede to public pressure. It is "when our legal and cultural reluctance to place other values in the balance with expression begins replicating itself in the moral deliberations of potential speakers" that the problems begin to occur (5). When the harm of an individual is dismissed to take up an issue of free speech, the university is failing to protect, failing to provide and safe and comfortable environment to learn. Stanley Fish sees "democracy [as] a system of political organization, not a model for organizing every aspect of daily life" (Democracy and Education 2). And because we value the context of what is being said, not the act of speech on its own, restrictions on speech increase our value of this non-free speech. Context is far more important than the absolutists allow us to believe, and "the democracy is a system of political organization, not a model for organizing every aspect of daily life" (There's No Such Thing 118). Fish answers his own question about whether or not universities are the right place for free speech, though not required by the Constitution to do so: "If the answer were 'yes,' it would be hard to say why there would be any need for classes, or examinations, or departments, or disciplines, or libraries, since freedom of expression requires nothing but a soapbox" (107). The utilities of a university require something more, and the existing levels of control in an academic setting are there for a reason. Restrictions allow us to value more what is being said, putting into action once again the gears of the university, and this value of knowledge is an essential element to understanding the function of such an institution.
     Recovering ideas from John Stuart Mill, some scholars recognize free speech as essential to intellectual and societal progress, because we cannot know if something that goes unsaid, for reasons of internal or external restriction of the speech, could have contributed to our understanding of truth. Linda Ray Pratt sees knowledge as a dynamic energy, something that can be achieved, at least temporarily, with the help of academic freedom. “Truth,” she writes, “is not certain, or stable” (99), and education is the vehicle by which we can chase it. It is not just a goal, but an “'awkward responsibility' of those who sought to provide guidance in an uncertain universe of ideas” (104), including professors and administrators of the university. This search for knowledge is dependent on an exchange of ideas, and Pratt “still believe[s] that the university must be the resource and refuge for th[is] free exchange” (110). By instilling professors with this freedom of expression, they can explore possible outlets of truth and pass on these ideas to their students. Without being able to teach, to speak, truth and knowledge cannot be pursued. According to John Durham Peters, limitations imposed on speech interfere with the main goals of an institution of higher education, again, the main goal being knowledge. Retaining the modernist approach that there can be an end game, Peters reminds us that "liberalism is a part of the story about overcoming suffering (enduring offensive speech), and pain turns out to be a secret key to the puzzle of how the public life of democratic solidarity might work” (22). Peters goes as far as to suggest the views of the offensive can be beneficial, too, raising awareness and allowing for the address of moral concerns, as "one can oppose censorship while maintaining a capacity for judgments about the value and quality of cultural forms" (9).
     Following Louis Sullivan’s mantra “that form ever follows function,” education’s program should be reliant on its basic functions. In the past, this might have been to seek out a certain truth, investing heavily in the idea that we should value this quest for knowledge and understanding of the world around us above all. As the public became more interested in protecting the individual, in providing a safe atmosphere for students to learn, the well-being of participants in an academic setting became more important. And put into an ultra-democratic context, more recent times would dictate that we open the floor to students; the idea that free speech should be valued above both safety and an uncertain truth stems off of an obsession with control, making out the administration of education to be something of a business manager. But today’s educational systems are less focused in their objectives, more contextually defined by the subjects they teach, the students that attend, the professors that teach, the alum that donate, their location, their history – laws involving free speech and individual safety should reflect this. Form, after all, can and should depend on things other than pure functionality, or architecture would dissolve completely into engineering, cease to exist, and spaces would have no effect on their inhabitants. Although the pursuit of truth is still a worthy goal, it has been long forgotten; the commercialization of campuses has tainted all three of these aims. Perhaps by returning to this loftier ideal, where education is less of a societal obligation and more something that requires the ambition to learn, more something that requires the desire to embark on an impossible task not very unlike filling a small bucket with every raindrop that falls towards the earth, academia can shed the corrupt layer of political dust that has developed in its darker rooms.