Showing posts with label workers' rights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label workers' rights. Show all posts

Thursday, March 19, 2020

My Reflections as Minnesota and Vermont Declare Grocery Clerks Emergency Workers


The people putting their lives on the line right now to serve the rest of us are medical personnel and also grocery store workers and people delivering goods in trucks all over the country. The latter two groups are often significantly underpaid and have few or no benefits, including paid sick leave.

Sunday, May 1, 2016

Protesters Vs. North Carolina Anti-Trans Hate Bill: "You Will Not Pit Black People and Gay People and Poor People Against Each Other"



In the excellent photo report posted this week by the LGBTQ Task Force Action Fund about its April 25 rally and sit-in against North Carolina's hate bill targeting trans people, working people, and people of color, two tweets stand out for me. Both feature Reverend William Barber, one of the founders and leaders of North Carolina's Moral Mondays movement. One tweet's above, the other follows.

Friday, September 26, 2014

Tuesday, September 2, 2014

In the News: Southern White Men and Unions, Legacy of Slavery and Regional Economic Inequality, and Knee Defenders



Some recent news items that have caught my attention. I find some common threads in them. Do you?

Friday, May 16, 2014

Droppings from the Catholic Birdcage: Cincinnati Contract for Catholic Teachers and "Tragic, Needless, Preventable Descent into Irrelevance for the Catholic Church"



Charles J. Reid thinks that the draconian new employment contract the archdiocese of Cincinnati is imposing on its "minster-teachers" will provoke a "tragic, needless, preventable descent into irrelevance for the Catholic Church in Cincinnati" — and, by implication, similar actions in other parts of the Catholic world are provoking a similar tragic, needless, and preventable descent into irrelevance for the Catholic church.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Pope Francis Strongly Asserts Workers' Rights and Attacks Economic System Based on a "God Called Money"





Tom Fox reports at National Catholic Reporter that Pope Francis made "one of his strongest attacks" on the global economic system, saying it can no longer be based on a "god called money" and urging the unemployed to fight for work:

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Why Do Catholic Institutions Need Reform? Margaret Mary Vojtko



Why do the Catholic church and the institutions it sponsors need reform, you ask? Read this story:

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

Politics of Revenge in Michigan (with Catholic Parallel in Wisconsin)



Lisa Graves reads ALEC's broadside assault on Michigan workers through "right to work" legislation as revenge politics.  It's punishment of the voters of a state that went for Obama over Romney by almost 10%.  She writes,

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Nate Cohn on Flipping of Culture-War Calculus, Michael Sean Winters's Response: The Growing Quandary for Catholic Centrism



Nate Cohn writes at The New Republic that "the old culture war calculus has flipped from favoring Republicans to Democrats."  And Michael Sean Winters responds at National Catholic Reporter

The historic vocation of the Democratic Party is to fight for the interests of the working class. If it abandons that vocation to become a policy defined around preferences in the culture wars, I, for one, will no longer be interested in the Democratic Party.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Gerald Beyer on Strange Bedfellows: U.S. Bishops' Religious Liberty Crusade and Neoliberalism



There was one other valuable article of which I intended to take note in the posting I just uploaded, and I lost sight of it in the thicket of other commentary I was summarizing.  And perhaps it's better that it has a separate notice, since it's an article that deserves serious attention (but no less than he others to which I just linked).  This is Gerald Beyer's commentary at National Catholic Reporter on how the bishops' faux religious liberty crusade is really a crusade promoting a neoliberal philosophy antagonistic to the rights of workers and the poor.

Friday, January 20, 2012

The Republican Party and the South: A Then-and-Now Perspective

Wilson Bachelor (1827-1903), Arkansas Republican Leader


In that posting taking note of Fr. Martin's recent call for renewed respect, compassion, and sensitivity among Catholics as they deal with their gay brothers and sisters, I noted that the recurring cycles of disdain openly vented in the American political context against those who are gay (vented with overt Catholic complicity in many cases) tend to wear on me.  More than just a tad.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Pope Benedict to Issue Statement about Economic Justice: But Convincing Teaching Presumes Practicing


Fr. Thomas Reese posted a statement yesterday at the Holy Post blog site saying that on Monday, Pope Benedict will issue a document about the reform of the international financial system that will be closer to the views of Occupy Wall Street than to those of the U.S. Congress--and far to the left of where any American politician stands.  According to Reese, the document will focus on the dignity of the individual and the demands of justice, as we assess the morality of economic systems.

Monday, September 6, 2010

Jan Troell's "Everlasting Moments": Struggle of Working-Class Women for Human Dignity



Looking for a good movie to watch on this long holiday weekend?  I highly recommend Jan Troell's "Everlasting Moments," which we watched yesterday.  As Roger Ebert's review in Chicago's Sun Times indicates, it's a quietly told story of the struggle of a young working-class Swedish mother in the first part of the 20th century, to maintain her human dignity in a world that persistently tramples on her dignity.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

Labor Day Reflection: Catholic Bishops Speak of Dignity of Workers, But Continue Call for "Right" to Discriminate

 
I think it's significant--and good--that National Catholic Reporter's website is running its current story about the U.S. Catholic bishops' Labor Day statement side by side with Richard McBrien's article arguing that, for Labor Day, the Catholic church should embody its its social teachings.  As my previous posting notes, it's well-nigh impossible for Catholic faith communities to convince the culture at large of our exceptionally important ethical obligation to make the stranger welcome, if those same communities do not embody the virtue of hospitality in their own community life.  

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Holy Stories of Indigenous Peoples: Telling Truth Beyond Control of the Big Men on Top

Whispers in the Loggia had a thought-provoking meditation Tuesday about the story of Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose feast day is tomorrow. As Rocco Palmo notes, the story has strong resonance now, in the midst of our current economic crisis.

As with so many holy stories, this one has gotten covered in layers of simpering piety that divert us from the central thread of the narrative. This is a story about holy intrusion into the life of an ordinary man, the lowest of the low in the society of his day. The story tells what happened when a simple indigenous Mexican man, Cuauhtlatoatzin, encountered the Virgin Mary on a hilltop one day near Tenochtitlan, now Mexico City.

Cuauhtlatoatzin heard birds singing on Tepeyac hill and, amidst the bird calls, his name. He climbed Tepeyac to see what this was about and saw there a Mexican girl surrounded by light, a dark-skinned girl of the people, rather than one of the conquistadors from Spain who had claimed his land. She spoke to him in his native language, Nahuatl, calling him Xocoyte, “little son.” He responded courteously, calling her “Xocoyata,” his least daughter.

The dark-skinned girl made a request of him. He was to go the bishop of Mexico, a Spaniard, and tell him that the girl wanted a “teocalli,” a holy house, built on Tepeyac. And so Cuauhtlatoatzin went to the bishop, Juan de Zumárraga, repeatedly. And was repeatedly turned away.

How, the bishop wondered, could the Virgin Mary appear to a Mexican peasant and not to a Spanish bishop or a priest, with centuries of the True Faith in his blood? The bishop asked for a sign. And for the sign, the girl produced roses from the bishop’s native land of Castile, wrapped them in her cloak, and gave this to Cuauhtlatoatzin to bring to the Spaniard. When Cuauhtlatoatzin shook out the roses, an image of the girl was imprinted on her cloak. Roses in December.

The bishop believed. The shrine of Guadalupe was built, becoming the center of Mexican Catholicism, a place to which the wretched of the earth can go with as much hope of being received and heard as can the fair-skinned and haughty, the wealthy and the wise.

These are the bare bones of the story, bones we don’t often see under the florid ornamentation that now covers their telling. Cuauhtlatoatzin now appears under the Spanish name St. Juan Diego. The dark-skinned girl is now a princess. The point of the story, as people tell it today, is to talk about the Virgin Mary and her miracles—not about God’s choice to enter this world in solidarity with the outcast, the despised, the conquered, the dark and dirty: the workers, those carriers of flowers Diego Rivera loved to depict, whose backs are stooped with the burdens they carry to prettify the lives of us, the privileged of the world. While they have no flowers for themselves. Except the roses in the cloak of the Aztec maiden. Roses in December.

I think that Rocco Palmo is right. This is a story for our time, once we probe beyond the hagiographical layers that distort what the story wants to say to us. It is a story about where God lives today, in our world. It’s a story about the kind of God we should be expecting during this advent time, a homely God who comes to us in homely ways.

And it’s a story about who we might become, if we listened well to the gospels. It’s a story about rich nations that choose to share their wealth with the despised of the world, that open their doors to the huddled masses, that acknowledge the manifold gifts those pouring through the doors bring to us.

It’s a story about tables where bread is broken and shared, so that everyone has enough—a story about how bread decays when it is hoarded, and becomes insufficient even for those who have hoarded it in abundance. It is a story about the choice of God and the holy ones to appear to those we least expect to become the bearers of divine gifts and messages.

Who knows, perhaps even to us, if we learn to imagine the world differently . . . .

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Family Values: Remembering the Grandmother's House

In a posting at Huffington Post this morning, Arianna Huffington makes points I made yesterday—our willingness to prescind from ethical analysis of our economic life, because the hidden hand of the unfettered free market will dispense its gifts accurately and wisely, and where that willingness to elide ethics has gotten us:

Over the past 30 years, Americans have been bombarded with sermons evangelizing for the free market religion of the Right, and the supposed correlation between unregulated markets and progress . . . . In the course of selling us on buying, the market-worshippers shredded the modern social contract, the hard-fought consensus that had emerged since the New Deal, which ordered our political priorities, and expressed both our communal concern for the most vulnerable members of society and our disapproval of huge inequalities. We were now supposed to believe that all could be left up to the soulless, self-correcting calculus of supply and demand. Government involvement was an anachronism, regulatory oversight an impediment.
The last few weeks have demolished that notion. In the battle over the proper role of government, the forces of the Right, the high priests of the church of the Free Market -- including Bush, Paulson, and the Masters of Wall Street -- have suffered a monumental defeat. So why are we allowing them to dictate the terms of their surrender? (www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/the-bailout-plan-welcome_b_128450.html).

My answer to Huffington’s question, Why are we allowing them to dictate the terms of their surrender? Because we have colluded. Because we’ve been willing to accept the “soulless, self-correcting calculus of supply and demand” and to ignore workplace ethics.

Because we let the lords who rule us, who have make-or-break power over us, posture as agents of the divine will when they are clearly anything but. Because we let them rake in huge salaries while driving us into penurious servitude. Because we bail them out and reward their malfeasance and greed with large severance deals when they run things into the ground.

My answer to Huffington’s question? We are as much part of the problem as Wall Street is. We have stood by and willingly permitted the religious right to dumb down religious and ethical discourse in this nation, to reduce that discourse to hateful slogans, to narrow the focus of what is moral to the pelvic area.

And we are now reaping the rewards for our ethical and intellectual laziness. Nothing will change unless we ourselves change. Nothing will change until we demand better from our political and religious leaders, and above all, from ourselves.

+ + + + +

Today would be my grandmother’s 120th birthday, if she were still living. My maternal grandmother, Hattie Paralee Batchelor Simpson. She would not be pleased that I am using her middle name in this posting. She hated it, regarded it as country and old-fashioned, sought to live it down.

When I try to find the origin of that unusual name, I hit a dead-end. The most I can find is that it seems to have appeared in the American South around 1830, and is perhaps related to the word “pearl.” My grandmother received the name from an aunt by marriage, the second wife of her uncle Edward Eli Batchelor, Mary Paralee Bagley.

I loved my grandmother to distraction. This is a small bone of contention now between my brother Philip and me. His memories of her are less rose-colored. Where I found her nurturing though certain in her demands, he found her overbearing. I have no memory of having ever been corrected by her. Philip remembers threats of spankings for jumping on her beds or roiling her nerves as she watched her daily “shows,” soaps she never missed—“Days of Our Lives,” “As the World Turns."

My grandmother watched her shows not only with avid interest: she watched interactively, punching the air and shaking her fist at the folly of the characters. She was especially perturbed by the willingness of the ever-fatuous male characters to fall for one old hussy (she pronounced the word to rhyme with "fuzzy") after another. Fallen women did not earn her pity. A spineless man was distasteful; but a spoiled woman was unthinkable, the worst force in the universe.

Our different memories no doubt have much to do with our place in the family ordering, and the different roles that place scripted for us. As the oldest son in my family and the first male grandson, I inherited Obligations and Privileges. In time-honored Southern fashion, I received the names of my grandfathers, William and Dennis. (Thankfully, my parents avoided the other possibility, Benjamin Zachariah).

Because I was the Bearer of Tradition, the grandson who was expected somehow to incarnate my grandfather William Z. Simpson, who had died no less than twenty years before I was born, I was the one my grandmother took under her wing. I was the one to be told family stories, to be permitted to “ramble,” as she put it, to pore over the old letters, diaries, quilt scraps (and false teeth and discarded eyeglasses and hanks of hair) in the old trunks in the attic. I was the one entrusted with my grandfather’s pocket watch when I turned 18.

I’ve now given it to my nephew Luke, also a William and the oldest son in his family. What else can the Bearer of Tradition do except cherish for a while and then hand on what has been entrusted?

No child can resist being made to feel special. And my grandmother was good at making children feel special—well, perhaps any that were not her own. I have a letter from a woman who grew up in my grandmother’s town, telling me how much she relished seeing my grandmother when she was a girl, because my grandmother always greeted her with a big smile and talked to her as if she were an adult, showing a keen interest in everything the little girl did and said.

It was that same interest that annoyed Philip, who, as the youngest boy and the hellion of the family, was fated to jump on beds and test boundaries. He did not welcome any hedge. When he first heard the song “Don’t Fence Me In,” it captivated his imagination and became his theme song. He acted it out for several years, miming open spaces and galloping horses. My grandmother often woke from dreams in which she said she had seen Philip covered in blood, in the penitentiary. She loved to repeat something a family friend once said—that if Philip did not land in prison by the time he grew up, he’d surely find himself in the White House, with all that drive and willingness to shove against rough fate.

As I think about my grandmother on her birthday, I realize it was not so much the special attention she showed me that meant so much to me in my childhood and adolescence. It was the fact that she was there. Always there. In a house that never altered, with her unmarried oldest daughter Kat and her unmarried son Dub (W.Z., or just plain Brother to his family).

Always there, as my family knocked about hither and yon, when my father’s fortunes would soar or crash as his propensity to drink (and gamble and wench) receded or reasserted itself. If I needed a place to get away, to sleep on cold nights on old, swaybacked feather ticks under quilts sewn by great-grandmothers, if I needed to walk in a rose garden or sit under a fig tree, if I needed to hear once again family stories I had memorized years ago, I could always go to her house.

I could go home. In the last analysis, that was the single, the definitive gift my grandmother provided all of her grandchildren: home. To be sure, it was home on her terms. There was to be no waste of food, no sassing of elders, no bed wallowing and no noonday napping, since idleness is the devil’s workshop. Lies or thieving were so much not allowed as to be unthinkable; they’d land us in hell or reform school or both faster than we could say pea turkey. We were please to remember we had Simpson blood and were as good as the best and better than the rest.

Everybody needs a home. Children need a sense of belonging, a place in which they can be made to feel special and have their talents (and obligations) pointed out to them. And those who provide home are, to my way of seeing things, growing fewer in our culture these days. And those who provide home deserve commendation for the hard work of just being there, day in and day out, in sickness and in health.

As my grandmother was.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Economic Crisis and Workers' Rights: Ethical Reflections

*The current economic crisis positively begs for ethical analysis. And yet, if that analysis had been part and parcel of our approach to economic life all along, we wouldn’t be finding ourselves in the mess we’re in now.

To note this is to point to one of the glaring shortcomings of American religious and cultural life: we tend to regard economic life as somehow outside the purview of moral analysis. When people talk about morality—when churches and politicians lament moral decline—they frequently focus mono-maniacally on personal morality, above all on pelvic morality.

It’s as if one of the most significant areas of all of our lives—the workplace, the work world, the economic sector—is value-free.

Much ink has been spilt in analyzing why this is so, why we make such a bizarre assumption about economic life. At heart, much has to do, I suspect, with Adam Smith’s hidden hand: with the belief (and that’s what it is, every bit as mystical and counterintuitive as any religious belief) that, left to itself, the market sorts things out.

Those who deserve to prosper will prosper. Those who deserve to fall by the wayside will fall. The go-getter will prevail. The slacker will fail.

These are not faith-based assumptions. They are assumptions that fall short of even the threshold of morality as articulated by all the world’s religions. And yet they are deeply woven into our cultural perspectives on economic life. When it comes to economics, we—this nation with the soul of a church—are radical individualists who not only gleefully watch many of our brothers and sisters fall to the bottom of our society, but who actively justify their demise by attributing to them moral shortcomings, lack of a sound work ethic, dissolute habits, extravagant tastes, lack of intellect and will to defer pleasure in the present in order to reap future rewards.

In the workplace, the assumption that the hidden hand somehow magically works things out so that greed becomes righteousness and callousness to our fellow human beings becomes virtue translates into the lordship of the employer and the servitude of the employee. In our attitudes towards workers’ rights, we are positively feudal, and have been moving even more in that direction in the past several decades of neoconservative political domination.

As someone who spent his academic career in what might be called the middle-management sector of academic life—as a department chair and academic dean/v-p in a number of different institutions—I have been able to see both sides of this lord-servant dynamic. The person in the middle has to interact with those at the top, in whose hands make-or-break power ultimately resides: the president and trustees of universities. She also is a faculty member, an employee, who mediates between the lords at the top and those who do the actual work of teaching, and who are seldom rewarded as they deserve for their hard work. Deans are doubly servants: the English word derives from the Greek word diakonos, which means “servant.”

This is an unenviable position to be in—a middle-management servant—a crucifying one, frankly. If you try to do your job right, you will always be damned if you do and damned if you don’t. Defend faculty members’ rights, and you may well find yourself slapped hard by the lords in whose hands make-or-break power ultimately resides. And yet, merely because you work with those lords, you are often accused by faculty members of being anti-faculty, a traitor to the workers’ cause.

(An illustration of the crucifying reality of being put in the middle: at one school at which I was academic dean, I fought for a raise for a faculty member who alleged that he was discriminated against, and denied a raise, because of his race-ethnicity. I could not find sound evidence of the discrimination. On the other hand, I did find that he had not received a raise for many years when other members of his department got one. I made a value judgment based on the principle of doing no harm, and against the will of his department and division chairs, I put through a raise for him, which the president approved.

After I left this school, I happened to see this faculty member on the street. This was in a period in which Steve was suffering severe deterioration of his hip, such that he could hardly walk. With the kind assistance of a friend who owned a car dealership, and with a bit of money my aunt had just left us in her will, we bought a used car that was nicer than any we had ever owned—one whose carriage was high enough for Steve to sit in it with relative comfort, and one that did not bump around as we drove.

The faculty member saw the car when I encountered him on the street. Now that I was gone from the college and its dean’s office, he could slap at me with impunity. And slap he did. He said with a sneer, “Deans must make good money for you to buy a car like that.” I told him I was no longer a dean. I felt I had no obligation to tell him how we had acquired the car. He repeated the slur, to make sure I knew that he had no respect for me. Whether he knew how hard I had fought for his raise, and what slaps I endured from others to obtain it for him, I did not know and probably will not ever know.)

Though being in this uncomfortable middle place is sometimes crucifying, it’s a place that yields valuable insights into the dynamics and moral implications of how workers are treated. In what follows, I want to take some of my experiences trying to work as a middle-manager in one kind of workplace—an academic one—and make some ethical observations about workplaces in general. Because my experiences have been generally within academic life, I will make some observations that specifically refer to the unique needs of the academy. Nonetheless, I believe that, as ethical principles, the following principles apply to workplaces in general.

And I’d go further: I’d say that if we are ever to find our way out of the economic mess we are now in, we have to engage in ethical analysis akin to this, re: our economic life in general. We have to find ways to implement ethical principles in economic life—that is, if we want out of the mess and don’t want simply to accept that we now have a quasi-feudal economic system in which lords have make-or-break power over those of us who have been reduced to economic servitude.

And so two fundamental principles for ethical analysis of economic life, drawn from my own work experience:

1. Workers are human beings and not things.

This is an absolutely fundamental principle. And yet, it’s one almost totally overlooked in how we actually do economic life in this country. Almost everywhere, our laws are radically loaded on the side of the employer/lords, allowing them to do whatever they want to and with workers: allowing them precisely to treat workers as things and not as persons.

No major religion of the world is comfortable with the assumption that people should ever be treated as things and not as persons. Most world religions, and many churches in the U.S., have made glowing statements about the rights of workers to be treated with personal dignity. Few of these statements ever translate into practice in workplaces, including (and perhaps especially) workplaces owned by churches—e.g., colleges or universities sponsored by churches.

2. Because workers are human beings and not things, their personal dignity and human rights must always be safeguarded in hiring and firing decisions, and in evaluation procedures.

In any workplace that wants to reach even the threshold of ethical behavior, workers can never be dismissed at the will of the employer, even when local laws permit at-will termination. The most rudimentary moral principles of all faith communities require the following:

▪ Ongoing evaluation in which the supervisor apprises the worker, preferably in writing, of her or his strengths and weaknesses, giving the worker the right to respond (preferably in writing);

▪ In cases in which a worker is failing to meet the mark, a set of remedial guidelines (preferably in writing), with clear goals and a timeline for the guidelines to be accomplished;

▪ Feedback (preferably written) by the supervisor as the employee seeks to meet the goals and timeline provided for remediation, with the right of the employee to respond to the feedback (preferably in writing);

▪ In cases in which a worker fails, after the remedial period, to meet the mark, a final written evaluation noting the worker’s failure as measured by the remedial plan, with the worker’s right to respond in writing;

▪ In cases in which the worker contests the final written evaluation, the right of the worker to appeal to a grievance committee that is not dominated by or answerable to the same supervisor who issued the final evaluation pointing to termination;

▪ Termination only when the above conditions have been met.

Interestingly enough, faith-based workplaces lack the preceding guidelines far more frequently than do secular ones. There are a number of reasons for the absence of such basic moral procedures in church-related institutions.

Among these are an unexamined assumption on the part of many leaders in church-related institutions (and this is often shared by society at large) that anything a church-affiliated leader does is automatically ethical. This assumption persists in the face of massive amounts of evidence that church affiliation does not necessarily or automatically translate into ethical behavior.

In some cultural settings, leaders of faith-based institutions even enjoy quasi-theocratic status. I have worked in faith-based institutions in which the leader of the institution routinely uses religious language to bolster his/her claim that he/she is divinely appointed to lead the institution, and in which the community colludes in this theological interpretation of the leader's role (at least on the surface, since who can resist a divinely appointed tyrant with impunity?).

Faith-based communities also often actively resist any curbs on the right of the employer to fire at will when prejudicial beliefs of the churches are at stake—and the right of churches to act on these beliefs has often been upheld by courts, so that faith-based institutions are emboldened to use the court system to reinforce their right to discriminate. For instance, many religious institutions that condemn homosexuality fight for the right to refuse to hire openly gay employees, and/or to fire gay employees at will, either simply because they are gay, or while offering specious reasons that disguise the fact that the real reason for the termination is sexual orientation.

Alternatively, church-based institutions may choose to fire openly gay employees because they have decided that these employees are undesirable for some other reason, but easy targets for at-will termination in areas where their rights are not guaranteed, precisely because they are gay.

The official policies of many faith-based institutions resist even the most basic description of the human rights of workers (unless these descriptions are imposed by federal or local law), because they want to reserve the right to fight court battles to permit the faith-based institution to continue discriminating in cases in which its religious beliefs permit or encourage such discrimination. In cases in which churches’ professions of ethical principles for the workplace conflict with the churches’ wish to control workers—in cases in which money and/or the image of the institution are at stake—ethical principles often take a back seat to the legally defended right to discriminate and to fire at will.

In academic life, of course, there is an added layer of reasoning to support the evaluation procedures I have outlined above, as a prerequisite to any termination of those who hold faculty status. This is to safeguard academic freedom.

In the U.S., all accrediting bodies for institutions of higher learning require that colleges/universities safeguard the academic freedom of faculty. Accrediting bodies also require, as a fundamental safeguard for academic freedom, clear guidelines for evaluation of faculty, use of those guidelines in ongoing evaluation of faculty, and demonstration that those guidelines have been followed when anyone with faculty status is terminated.

Failure to follow such guidelines in terminating anyone with faculty status is regarded by accrediting bodies as serious business, because at-will termination of faculty places in the hands of those with make-or-break-power the power to terminate those who have stated or published opinions or research that the make-or-break-power may wish to suppress.

For those outside academic life today, it is difficult to appreciate the extent to which governing boards of colleges and universities often fail to understand this basic principle of academic freedom, which is the lifeblood of academic life. Without it, scholars are intimidated into hiding research that is not flattering to received opinion, or that exposes powerful people to critical analysis. Without it, there is no way to teach critical thinking to students. Critical thinking can develop only in a context of free inquiry in which no question is off limits, no authority figure beyond criticism, no idea beyond careful analysis and discussion.

Because the governing boards of many institutions of higher learning are increasingly from the business sector, and because they often choose presidents for whom the bottom line is money (and image management), many governing boards are weak in defending academic freedom, if not downright antithetical to academic freedom. If they had their way, many governing boards would abolish all safeguards to academic freedom and would permit at-will termination by the president, with no evaluation process at all prior to termination.

I know this, because I have sat with governing boards to defend academic freedom for faculty. I know it, because I have fought to develop clear faculty-generated guidelines for faculty evaluation that permit faculty to respond to supervisors’ evaluations of them. I know it because I have been punished for fighting for such evaluation procedures, and for involving faculty in the development of the guidelines by which they are evaluated.

I have fought for such guidelines because my conscience tells me I must. I have fought for these guidelines because I believe in academic freedom and in the fragile possibility that the academy can keep thought and critical discourse alive in our culture.

Why should those who are not in academic life care about these issues? Because we live in a society in which it is all too easy to suppress free discourse. Because we live in a society in which there are powerful forces at work to make us all think and act one and only one way. Because we live in a society in which there are powerful forces at work to make us stop thinking and stop acting, to turn us into passive drones.

The academy is one among several imperfect institutions in our culture that hold out against increasingly powerful forces to protect open discourse and respectful analysis of differing ideas and opinions. Certainly the academy often sells out. It often fails to hold up its end of the civil contract universities have made with the culture at large.

But when it works, it performs an invaluable service to society at large, in keeping thought and critical thinking alive. We all have a vested interest in seeing that the academy does what it claims it wants to do. Now, above all, when our social problems are so complex, and we’re being offered buffoons and knaves as the “solution” to those problems, what else can we do?

*A note about the narrative I had begun on this blog last Thursday: in my open letter to Mr. Obama on Friday, I said pretty much what I had intended to say in the last part of that narrative. The proviso with which I opened the posting on Thursday, re: strong or offensive language, had to do with the fact that I was going to discuss m-o-n-e-y in explicit terms, something I was brought up never to do. As I did in my open letter to Mr. Obama . . . . Re: that letter, profound thanks to all those who contacted me to offer suggestions about how to disseminate it, and/or who helped me see that it got circulated. I made some very valuable contacts through networking with the assistance of blog readers, and am deeply grateful for the assistance.