When should we speak?

A meditation on when, why, and how academic leaders may consider speaking on contemporary issues.

Some background

In recent months, I have written a fair bit about the ongoing conflict in Gaza, trying to articulate my thoughts on a tragic and volatile situation. As I have done so, I have heard from many who read these essays, and I am grateful always for those who do write and comment. Some have agreed with what I have written. Some have disagreed. Some have wondered why I have written at all and challenged me for “pontificating.” And many have remarked that speaking is difficult in the moment, that it is safer not to speak at all. I read all comments carefully and try to reflect on them. All comments—even ones I disagree with— help sharpen my thinking and hopefully push me to be better at formulating what I write.

I am aware that this recent experience with public writing has been taking place against a backdrop of controversy about speech in academic spaces that has gained national attention. Questions have been raised about academia’s commitment to free speech and about the role of academic institutions in speaking out about current events. In the context of this debate, there have been calls for an adoption of institutional neutrality, in which academic institutions largely refrain from engaging with contemporary events and issues of consequence, and that academic leaders should follow suit. While there is much to recommend the idea of institutional neutrality as intended (more on that later), I worry that the general sway of public conversation swings—as it often does—to a binary, and that the moment is so fraught that, essentially, it suggest that we should not speak, about much, ever. 

So today, as I mentioned in last week’s THG, I thought I would try to address that, to put pen to paper and ask the question: when should we speak?

Explanatory caveats

A couple of explanatory caveats before the substance of this essay. 

First, I am going to write here principally about speech by those in the academy who have some position of leadership. What a “position of leadership” is can be subject to interpretation, which I leave to you, the reader. What I am writing here does not pertain to academics who engage in their work always with the assumption that freedom to speak is a core feature of their job (even as there may be reasonable limits on that speech). Rather, I am writing here about those whose leadership position may suggest constraint, and about whom much has been made in the current public conversation.

Second, I am making a distinction between academic institutions and individual academic leaders speaking about issues. There are times when a leader speaks on behalf of an institution, or the institution releases a statement about an issue, and there are times when academic leaders speak only for themselves. I have written before that academic leaders should seldom speak on behalf of the institution. But I am also aware that when an academic leader speaks in their capacity as an individual, it can be hard, perhaps impossible, to fully disentangle their voice from the institution they represent. There may always be an assumption that their views reflect those of their community. Nevertheless, it is important to try to support this distinction, towards creating a context where academic leaders feel they can speak and, in so doing, do good.

The argument

The forces that have shaped the controversies about speech in the current moment are now well documented. While they came to the fore in the past few months, they really reflect social forces that have shaped the academy over the past decade or so. In many ways it is not surprising that we are at a place where many are calling for academic “neutrality.” Given the rancor of the moment, it just seems easier to say, “we should not speak at all.” It is also true that events and issues are fluid, constantly evolving, as we have seen with the conflict in the Middle East. A statement that is up-to-date one moment may need to be modified the next, making any person or institution who speaks out to some extent a hostage to fortune.

So, should the challenges facing academic leaders’ speaking push us into an academic retreat, into silence on issues of contemporary consequence? I am not so sure. It may be more helpful, rather than to opt out of these conversations, to reflect and ask: what should academic leaders speak about, when should they speak, and how can they speak in ways that best serve the moment? When should academic leaders not speak? In answering these questions, I suggest we can be guided by the following criteria, offered here in a spirit of reflection on how academic voices can best serve the public good.

What should academic leaders speak about?

It seems to me that academic leaders should speak most readily about issues that directly pertain to the work of their community, and about which they have thought carefully. I note that this is in line with some definitions of academic neutrality that suggest that leaders only speak on issues that “directly affect the core mission and functioning of the university”. Of course, the challenge is in the interpretation. I suggest that academic leaders can bring to bear a depth of knowledge and expertise to a range of issues—otherwise, why were they appointed to leadership positions in academia to begin with?—and that the public conversation would lose this insight if academic leaders chose to stop speaking up. At the same time, a depth of knowledge in one or two areas is not the same as a depth of knowledge in all areas, and academic leaders should have the humility and self-reflection to keep this in mind. For a university leader, this may indeed mean speaking principally about the role of universities in society. For a school-level leader, this may mean speaking about issues that intersect with the subject-matter focus of that school. For example, as Dean of the Boston University School of Public Health, I have tried to limit myself to speaking primarily about issues that relate to the work of public health. I have, for example, kept my comments on issues that I care about, but that I see as outside my scope (e.g., electoral college politics) relatively scant, but have not stinted from commenting on issues (e.g., the consequences of war) that are directly relevant to the health of populations. This is not to say we should not engage with subjects on the outer edges of our expertise, just that we should do so sparingly, proceeding with humility and without laying claim to an authority we may not possess.   

When should academic leaders speak?

First, we can, and probably should, speak when our voices can help bring clarity to issues of contemporary importance. It is unhelpful to speak and add heat to an issue that is already aflame in the public conversation. It is much more important to bring light. If academics are paid by society to think, surely thinking about issues that are germane to one’s scope can lead to ideas that may provide some clarity, some useful perspective on an issue. And if that is not the case, well, then perhaps one should refrain from speaking in that instance.

Second, academic leaders should speak when doing so is helpful to their community. Academic leaders, at all levels, have communities they are responsible for, and there is often a pastoral need for academic leaders to speak. Academic communities are brought and held together, in part, by the words of leaders. When we speak, it is not just to articulate a position but to engage with the needs of the community, to make space for members of our community to speak and be heard. For academic leaders to do less would be to abrogate a core responsibility of leadership, to the detriment of our communities. The challenge is that this call to speaking can sometimes put us at odds with some of the targeted restraint noted above. It suggests that academic institutions need to have other mechanisms that can address community needs if the leaders are not tackling issues of contemporary consequence that are sometimes deeply felt.

How should academic leaders speak?

In the public discussion about whether academic leaders should engage with or stay silent on issues, an important nuance has been lost. It is not only about what one speaks about, but also about how one speaks. There are ways of speaking that close conversation and ways of speaking that open conversation. Ways of speaking that bring solace, ways of speaking that inflame. Given the role of the academy in society—to bring ideas to the world so that we may advance our thinking—there is a clear role for academic leaders to communicate in a way that embraces all, that advances their ideas, yes, but also makes space for other ideas. That means that we should speak in ways that are as inclusive as possible, making ample room for disagreeing voices. We should accept difference and understand other points of view while being clear about our position and where our values lie. Academic leaders should speak in the spirit of dialogue, with the understanding that what we say is just one part of a broader conversation. We should be sensitive to the imperatives of prudence, moderation, and the feelings of others but never choose to speak or stay silent out of fear. And we should be mindful of the medium through which we choose to express our thoughts. Some platforms are more supportive of a free and fair exchange of ideas than others, and it is on us to be aware of this context, opting to speak only in spaces where speech is truly free.

Finally, when should academic leaders not speak?

I would say we should not speak in most, if not all, occasions that do not meet the criteria I have suggested. We have a responsibility to modulate the frequency with which we weigh in on public issues, only speaking when we can make a positive difference for our community and a constructive contribution to the public debate. We speak to bring clarity, to serve in a pastoral role, to ensure the community feels heard, and to apply our expertise to the public conversation. We aim to speak in ways and places that bring people together and allow room for disagreement. To speak everywhere all the time, commenting on each issue that emerges, is to risk diluting our influence, undermining our capacity to support our communities and do good in the world. 

A concluding thought

As I write this, I ask myself, do I always meet these criteria in my writing? I certainly try, but I have no doubt that I fall short often, and that readers have the wisdom to see when I do. As I said at the outset, in this complex, divisive moment, it is easy to feel that it is best to say nothing, to disengage from the controversy and conflict all around us. Yet it is in precisely these moments that it is most necessary for us all to do our part to work in good faith towards a healthier public debate. The answer is not so much speaking less as it is speaking with clear intention, guided by what we know and what we value. My hope is that academic leaders can indeed help support such conversations.