Nine years ago, former Supreme Court Justice David Souter sounded a clarion call which has not been heeded. What took place on January 6, a year ago, bore witness to that:
I don't believe there is any problem of American politics in American public life which is more significant today than the pervasive civic ignorance of the Constitution of the United States and the structure of government. An ignorant people cannot remain a free people. Democracy cannot survive too much ignorance.
As usual, it got lost amidst so many other public pronouncements. But what he failed to add was crucial and put 750 people (so far) in jail: the need to accept of the Constitution and structure of government; not only what it is, but what it means to be a good citizen, to play the game by the existing rules. The lack of it, or perhaps the inability to draw from it and their persuadability, made them crazy with agitation, spurred on by someone else with the gift of gab and demagoguery but sharing the same refusal to go along with the rules of our road, namely: If you lose, you move on to fight another day because that day is guaranteed.
He did not, by himself, cause the rupture. He accelerated it, true, but it was there, latent, to begin with.
The collapse of our civic life was put horribly on display a year ago, the key to it being self-control and restraint. Where do we address that? And how?
Schooling must be the place. But where? How? Do we assume that, if we teach civics to high schoolers, we've done our job? We can't any longer if January 6 happened. Trust me: Each of those people who assaulted the very place our government is based were exposed, at some point, to someone trying to stress upon them the uniqueness of our system, its fundamental structure, its crucial importance, the vitality necessary for it to operate effectively and the Constitution which is the basis for it. But that could have happened anywhere between 9th grade, age 14, and 12th, age 17 or 18.
As such, that is inadequate, or implicitly so, says Ronald Daniels, the president of Johns Hopkins University, in a new book What Universities Owe Democracy. Daniels shifts the paradigm: the place to best teach and inculcate democratic principles is college, not high school.
That would seem elitist, but as Daniels points out, 70 percent of high school graduates at least try to continue their education in a two-year or four-year college. If so, then that is the point at which we should make the best attempt to get them settled into the political system, peaceably and responsibly. I don't think Daniels wants to abandon any effort of high schools to begin students down that track, but he does think that the crucial place for any of it to pay off has to be college--when students become more responsible and think more about their futures. Besides, an overwhelming percentage of them can vote by then--the first, and ultimate, responsibility of a democracy into which all can join.
Having taught high school students in a fairly well-to-do community for 30 years and having witnessed it myself, I can tell you that, as vital as I believe the teaching of civics and U.S. History has always been, only the most mature kids will absorb it for what it's supposed to be: A passageway to good citizenship. And if 70 percent of those kids go on, there's still the 30 percent who don't and need it right there and then. That's a lot of kids. But some of the rioters of January 6, enough of them, were college-educated, too.
Something has gotten horribly diminished, something we have always needed. We either have to address it, or we are fried in our own pan in the heat of fascism.
The book's title suggests a boring account, but I didn't find it as such. Daniels writes provocatively but tries to make the issues as simple as possible. The issues are complex, but not that difficult to understand.
First and foremost: You can't demand that all colleges and universities teach exactly the same thing at exactly the same time. We pride ourselves on diversity, and college curricula feeds on that. Each institution has course requirements, but universities thrive on electives to keep their students interested.
What the university gained as it developed over time in America is, first of all, a reputation for graduate schools and research. In doing so, it earned respect for the establishment of science as a purveyor of fact. It thus serves the public most by fighting disinformation. It also establishes the crucial vitality of the humanities to develop well-rounded persons.
One of the great, early, visionary leaders in these resolves was the University of Wisconsin, which saw its role in research and inquiry as serving not only the general public, but the government. This became known as the "Wisconsin Idea," which had as its central philosophy, "the boundaries of the university are the boundaries of the state." The university became part of an educational ecosystem that included government and business. Probably the best-known example of this is FDR's "Brain Trust" which guided his policies in the early days of the New Deal.
But with the advent of Reaganism--again, another way in which fealty to Ronald Reagan ruined us--university education became seen as something to be earned, a private benefit instead of a public good. This led to viewing college education as elitist, dispensing with the effort to become universal (as in the G.I. Bill post-World War II), and provided a gradual ramping down of intellectualism, a return to a class ranking of the college-educated, instead of the gifts of a nation that could provide ladders for the "average" to become far better than that.
Congress also provided business with highways to invest in universities, so that much of its research was business-based. This introduced inevitable conflicts of interest, in which research results appeared to be tailored to satisfy the sugar daddies who funded it.
So the university, as a concept, has changed to fit the supposed priorities of the nation it serves. But Daniels stresses that it must return to a status that's closer to its original purposes, especially now that our media and culture are so challenged by disinformation. Reliance on corporate funding has diminished university-created reliability; truth has gained bias, so it can be attacked automatically.
So the university has reduced its own prestige. But it must regain it because its fact-finding is essential to base discussions and disagreements in the public discourse, says Daniels. It is, therefore, essential to a decently functioning democracy. There have to be 'experts' who guide us in the direction of good research and genuine knowledge. Their sharing is a vital source of our public discourse.
But it's also that public discourse that has become problematic on campuses. I have already written on such issues and the troubling polarization that has emerged. Daniels points to the difference in the claims of pluralist atmospheres that colleges claim, and the actual segregation that ultimately results when groups of students interact. It was no different, sadly, at the small liberal arts school that I attended.
Daniels' solution is what he calls "purposeful pluralism," or arranging for students to interact in a meaningful, constructive way. Easier said than done, though. Universities have tried to allow themselves to become more diverse, so 'purposeful pluralism' is a way to further and fulfill that function, but have sometimes gone about it in an awkward way.
What constitutes "diversity" of opinion on a campus too often involves inviting a controversial speaker and trying to cover their tracks with declarations of free speech afterwards, says Daniels. But that's unsatisfying and defeats the goals of inquiry. What should be more important is the interaction of differing views so that students feel able to actively participate and, what's more, ask questions. For the measurement of intelligence is not only the ability, but the willingness, to keep asking until the truth is determined or the issue properly exposed.
Unquestionably, what happens on our college campuses reflects the issues that divide us off-campus today. But they are also places where such differences can be smoothed out and approached appropriately, instead of the cataclysm that January 6th proved to be. Campuses can be leaders in that regard. They can demonstrate good civics, the kind David Souter had in mind. They need to act quickly and more decisively to take on that role. If the bad guys take over again, they will attack the legitimacy of higher education and make that their highest priority.
Be well. Be careful. Get a booster. With some luck, I'll see you down the road.
Mister Mark
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