Moral prescription versus academic freedom
The following statement is currently doing the rounds on academic email lists and discussion forums.
We, the undersigned,
Recognizing that we are in the midst of a planetary crisis arising from climate change, extreme biodiversity loss, the reaching of tipping points, and the crossing of planetary boundaries, causing immense suffering, the potential loss of millions of human and non-human lives, and an existential threat to humanity;
That, as teachers and educators, we educate the next generation;
That, as academic researchers, we absolutely respect the freedom to choose our areas of work, yet have a moral responsibility to respond to the planetary crisis;
That, as judges of academic research, awards, tenure and promotion cases, and research proposals, we have the power to steer the direction of travel of our peers;
That, as members of universities and colleges, we have the right to propose, vote on, and advocate for the policies adopted by our employers;
Therefore, will ourselves endeavour and urge our academic colleagues:
To educate others about the causes and consequences of the planetary crisis and suitable courses of action, keeping in mind the critical need for climate justice and including diverse voices;
When appropriate, to orient their research towards approaches that will mitigate or avert the crisis and to ponder potentially negative outcomes of research outputs;
When reviewing a grant, tenure or promotion case, award, fellowship, or paper to reward work that addresses the planetary crisis and actively challenge work to the contrary;
To engage with professional societies to put into place policies that encourage papers in academic conferences and journals to state how they address the planetary crisis;
To engage with their places of employment to help them rapidly decarbonise education and educational infrastructure, including reducing the carbon and ecological impact of energy, buildings, travel, and food; restoring biodiversity; and adopting sustainable practices;
To travel by air only as the last resort; instead, using lower-carbon modes of transport and advocating for and relying on online participation in academic events;
To shun funding for research or training from or indirect support of corporations and entities that either deny climate change or through their (in)action worsen the planetary crisis.
politicisation of the knowledge process
Climate change and biodiversity loss are massive issues. But declarations such as these run counter to what should be a central tenet of higher education – academic freedom. It is not untypical of the politicisation of the knowledge process in universities - granting gatekeepers the authority to decide which perspectives can be developed and which are, a priori, ruled inadmissible. The reference to ‘diverse voices’ is bit rich in a document that seeks to limit diversity of opinion.
I would argue that upholding academic freedom is the moral responsibility of academics, one that logically precedes what we research and teach about the issues of the day. That includes defining issues such as climate change.
The declaration tends to treat the ‘climate crisis’ consensus as a moral norm that all should adhere to. It states,
‘… as judges of academic research, awards, tenure and promotion cases, and research proposals, we have the power to steer the direction of travel of our peers.’
I am very uncomfortable with the idea that editors of journals or review boards ‘steer the direction of travel of our peers’. I would encourage our peers – and our students - to steer their own direction of travel, according to their own conscience and understanding of the issue at hand.
The document hints at a censorious approach towards people who may be seen out of step with consensus:
‘We will endeavour to, and encourage our academic colleagues … [w]hen appropriate, to orient their research towards approaches that will mitigate or avert the crisis and to ponder potentially negative outcomes of research outputs’, and ‘when reviewing a grant, tenure or promotion case, award, fellowship, or paper to reward work that addresses the planetary crisis and actively challenge work to the contrary.’
This approach involves a clear a priori favouring of writing that fits the ‘climate crisis’ consensus, and a rooting out and rejection of research that does not, precisely on the basis that it does not.
Research or views that fit either a dominant or alternative narrative should stand or fall on their respective merits. Peer review, for academic research and for grant applications, is far from perfect, yet probably better than the alternatives. But if it adopts a priori political or ideological stances, then it severely limits its worth in the central aim of the academy: the production, passing on and critique of knowledge.
dead dogmas
Pushing others’ views to the margins through moral censure makes no sense, no matter how problematic you may find them. Today’s consensus view itself was often yesterday’s alternative narrative, and relied upon an openness to new thinking to be heard and discussed. Also, arguing back – through data, moral or political arguments – is how we refine and hone our own understanding and arguments. It’s how, individually, and collectively as a society, we pursue the truth. A view in opposition to a consensus is both a challenge and also an opportunity to clarify scientific, political or moral issues.
So alternative views should be considered on academic merit alongside work that follows the consensus, not in dark corners, away from scrutiny and critique. That is how science, and social science, advance. Without openness to alternatives, perspectives become what JS Mill described as ‘dead dogmas’ – mantras repeated with diminished need or desire to justify themselves, convince or progress. The moral censure of contrary views does no favours at all to the cause I assume the signatories to statements such as the one cited hold dear.
These principles apply, too, to other fraught issues of the day such as those around sex and gender, ‘decolonisation’ and Israel-Palestine. I’ve seen statements, similar in tone to the one cited here, on these issues too. Some imply or, like the present one, assert. But if you believe in what you say, and believe it to be important, you shouldn’t seek respite from others’ views by pushing them outside of a prescribed range of acceptable viewpoints. This simply reinforces siloed thinking, and people talking past, rather than to, each other.
On the question of climate change, a significant group of climate scientists and people in cognate areas challenge the consensus on ‘climate crisis’. Leading scientists such as Steve Koonin, William Happer, Richard Lindzen, John Clauser and Nir Shaviv take issue with the thesis. Others, such as Bjorn Lomborg, the self-styled ‘sceptical environmentalist’, have faced censure for their view that society’s priority should be less climate change per se and more ensuring that the fruits of economic growth are utilized to tackle a range of problems including poverty, climate mitigation and the transition to cheap, ‘clean’ energy. The spirit and letter of the open statement would potentially stymie research and censure the perspectives presented by these people, and many others – academics and questioning students.
The response to this point is sometimes that climate change is a bigger issue than academic freedom, or even freedom of speech, and that academic freedom is a luxury that we can ill afford given the imminent and existential disaster stemming from ‘climate crisis’. I’d say the opposite is true. The more significant the issue and its implications, the more we should be open to challenges to our own views - no matter how passionately held, or mainstream, they are. The language of ‘crisis’, ‘suffering’, ‘denial’ and ‘catastrophe’ is often invoked to undercut the democratic rights we expect at other times and on other issues. We should not allow it to do so here.
sex and gender – a positive example of bravery in the face of prescriptive practices
We’ve seen something not dissimilar on the issue of sex and gender, whereby gatekeepers in universities have insisted that research that might challenge the affirmation of trans and non-binary identities through being premised on a binary, biological conception of sex, would contribute to ‘harm’ or the ‘erasure’ of trans people. This has been affirmed by the formal alignment of universities and some journals and funding bodies with organisations such as Stonewall , Gendered Intelligence and other campaigning bodies. These two organisations have campaigned against the widely held view of sex - whether you are a man or a woman - as binary and biologically determined, and instead supported a policy of ‘no debate’ on the matter. Researchers have had work rejected, or felt compelled to use ‘gender neutral language’, in the face of Equality, Diversity and Inclusion (EDI) conditionality placed on, or implied in relation to, grants, publication and promotions.
Yet there can be little doubt that the questioning of the official ‘Stonewall’ narrative on sex and gender has proved to be vital in opening up a conversation, and now also shaping policy, for the care and treatment of children experiencing gender dysphoria in the UK and elsewhere. So we should be very thankful for the individuals who put the pursuit of truth above career advancement, and in a some cases their careers. And we should be exceptionally wary of grand statements that turn important perspectives into prescribed norms, and assign others pariah status, even if many hold the former to be ‘ethical’ and the latter ‘unethical’.
Of course climate is a completely different issue – I am not making a direct parallel between the two. And a consensus is not wrong because it is a consensus. But no consensus should be enforced through moral censure in a university. It should be open to – and encourage – challenge. The open letter does the opposite of this.
the good and the bad
I have to declare an interest here. I’ve written papers challenging degrowth and certain iterations of sustainability. I’ve had more than a few instances of editors invoking the sort of sentiments implied in the open letter. Also – and this is a common theme – reviewers sometimes seem to forget they are reviewing your paper, and not their own. Rather than critiquing your line of argument and assumptions, they direct you not to contend with, but to more or less accept, a view you do not hold, as a condition of publication. One editor suggested declaring my positionality may enhance the chance of publication, although thankfully did not enforce this (I am happy for people to do this, but it presupposes an epistemological view I don’t hold).
Only someone who views truth as instrumental to their career progression should entertain these sort of things, but given the pressures to publish in the ‘best’ (sometimes conservative, consensus-reflecting) journals, and address topics in a way that various gatekeepers favour, there are plenty who will feel pressured to make a compromise too far.
Equally I’ve also experienced reviewers with perspectives very different from or contrary to my own who have been prepared to fairly judge the merits and shortcomings of what I’ve written, frankly, openly and honestly. They haven’t tried to ‘steer’ me in their direction, or ‘actively challenge work’ for not centring ‘climate crisis’. I’m grateful for it.
who are ‘we’?
The statement refers to the academic community as ‘we’. I’d like to think there is a ‘we’ – a community of scholars with a shared commitment to the pursuit of truth and the passing on of knowledge and skills to budding members of that community. That does not preclude, and in fact relies upon, tolerance of different viewpoints. That is more important than ever at a time where ideological and political differences are often refracted through an identitarian lens, the result being outrage and claims to offence instead of tolerance, debate and civility (I use civility in the sense set out by Teresa Bejan in her book ‘Mere Civility’: put simply, being prepared to stay in the room with people you profoundly disagree with).
But to assert ‘we’ in relation to specific political or ideological positions is to exclude those who disagree, and to warn budding scholars not to question the consensus if they, too, want to become a part of ‘we’. It is to tell those who may be inclined to disagree to stay out of the room. That’s fine if you are a political party with agreed political positions, a private members club for people of like mind, or if you are hosting a dinner for friends of shared outlook. But it is not at all heathy for public universities or its associated academic infrastructure.
Universities, funding bodies and academic journals are not political parties with an agreed party line, and should avoid presenting themselves as such. I fear that a disillusionment with political parties and politics generally has led some academics to view academia as just that, a vehicle for specific political or ideological commitments. This is what some people mean when they proudly proclaim themselves to be ‘activist academics’ – they conflate their own political commitments with the role of the academy.
So I won’t be signing the statement or supporting censorious values checks on colleagues or students. In its stead I’d offer the Academics for Academic Freedom (AFAF) Statement of Academic Freedom as a universal statement for all people who take ideas – their own and those of others – and the people who hold them, seriously.