Abstract
In Unassailable Ideas: How Unwritten Rules and Social Media Shape Discourse in American Higher Education, Ilana Redstone and John Villasenor posit how social media amplifies the tensions of the culture wars swirling around American higher education, effectively silencing some from stating their true views while others self-censor to avoid being “called out” or “canceled.” Redstone and Villasenor argue a campus orthodoxy enveloping higher education stifles free speech and the sharing of diverse viewpoints in the classroom, through research, and in various service activities. Social media is used to target those viewed as controversial and out of sync with the underlying beliefs of this campus orthodoxy, leading administrators and editors to distance themselves and their institutions from controversy, which further removes higher education from its founding ideals and pursuits.
Redstone and Villasenor put forth three well-meaning beliefs that, when taken “in absolutist and uncompromising terms,” hinder campus discussions and inquiry. The first belief is that challenging and undermining traditional frameworks and power structures is deemed “good” and a worthy pursuit. The second belief is that social inequalities are singularly the result of discrimination, leaving out cultural contributions to such inequalities. The third belief is that individuals must view “everything” (emphasis in original, p. 4) through identity-centric perspectives. Questioning these beliefs at the heart of campus orthodoxy can lead to a social media backlash, reinforcing adherence to these beliefs through censorship of and self-censorship by individuals and fundamentally changing how academia operates. Redstone and Villasenor propose several solutions, including embracing viewpoint diversity in the classroom and in dialogue, administrators being considerate of how their communication could stifle academic freedom and speech among faculty, not mandating diversity through diversity statements and information for hiring and promotion, and, finally, not allowing administrative decisions to be driven by fear of social media backlash.
When I finished Unassailable Ideas, I returned to many foundational chapters of the book to ensure I had not missed the data pointing to the relevance of an overarching campus orthodoxy that the authors argue is in place. To be fair to Redstone and Villasenor, they note several times that limited data exist on the matter. However, if the three beliefs were so prevalent, why not pool together more existing data to capture these campus dynamics, or collect more systematic data to report to readers to provide a fuller understanding of the sociopolitical landscape of higher education? This question also relates to interpretations of available data that disconnect campus climates from societal contexts to interpret how and why students are concerned about expressing their views. As we know, percentages do not give you the full context of and reasoning for a respondent’s answer.
Working through Redstone’s and Villasenor’s arguments, one would assume that colleges and universities are disconnected oases with unidirectional impact on society rather than reflecting organizations that are microcosms of American society. This is particularly glaring with regard to a concerning assertion by the authors that college campuses resemble authoritarian nation-states because of the proliferation of the three beliefs. This is quite a bold argument to make in an era marked by increased authoritarian views in the United States, which college educations are notably combatting (Carnevale et al. 2020). Further, the concern around social media attacks on scholars, a cornerstone to the book’s arguments, is disconnected from the broader terrain of attacks occurring today. Unassailable Ideas does not cover the systematic undermining of certain scholars—mostly scholars of color, particularly women, and especially those who focus on race and racism in society—by an orchestrated network of well-funded, far-right organizations extending beyond social media to other forms of attack (Schmidt 2015, 2017; Tiede et al. 2021).
These disconnects present a distorted view of higher education that misses what censorship and erosion of academic freedom looks like today. Consider the anti-Critical Race Theory (CRT) legislation currently spreading across the United States and the targeting of centers and scholars who attempt to shed light on and tackle social inequalities within university systems (see American Association of University Professors 2022). CRT is framed as an “all about race” identity-centric perspective (belief three), often narrowed and misconstrued to discuss discrimination (belief two), and its rigor and logic is questioned because it was established to critically examine traditional frameworks of law and has since expanded to other areas (belief one). Anti-CRT policies censoring scholars and their work could be situated using the authors’ arguments as a way to counter the campus orthodoxy and increase viewpoint diversity, free speech, and academic freedom despite the opposite occurring for many scholars.
While Redstone and Villasenor provide a provocative read, the question remains: what does this all look like if we were to follow through on the authors’ suggestions? If we are to uphold the propositions of viewpoint diversity offered in Unassailable Ideas, then the “good” and “bad” ideas are hard to discern because the goal is to allow all ideas to be placed on equal footing and to promote continuous buying and selling of ideas, not to critically interrogate and debate as is the historic mission of higher education. The bad ideas, like biological determinism and racial essentialism, never lose capital or wither away as long as they are always on the menu with a steady stream of people willing to purchase them. How do “good” and “bad” ideas become distinguished from one another under these frameworks? Judgments about ideas could easily be framed as squelching free speech and inquiry because they seemingly adhere to the campus orthodoxy.
Put differently, are there any lines to cross and any consequences for crossing them? If not, how are we to promote more equitable and inclusive campuses, which the authors claim to support? We are given few mechanisms to do so under a “marketplace of ideas” dogma that similarly applies absolutist approaches to free speech and inquiry that the authors charge of those supposedly upholding the campus orthodoxy they are critical of. Thus, Unassailable Ideas avoids the more difficult and uncomfortable conversations of “what comes next” from such arguments for viewpoint diversity in a land of inequities and power asymmetries. The absence of these next steps ultimately hinders what the authors desire because more speech does not prevent communities from being censored or burned as people wield torches on campus with their “bad ideas.”