Room for a View

Conflicting Cultures
A Speech by Roger Bowen . Edited by Lorna Tychostup


Photo by Lorna Tychostup

The speech “Conflicting Cultures” (which is excerpted below), was given by then-SUNY New Paltz president Roger Bowen, to the United University Professors assembly of delegates in Albany, on May 11 of this year.

Roger Bowen, the unanimous first choice of the SUNY search committee, was appointed president of SUNY New Paltz in July 1996. At his confirmation hearings, a lone trustee, Candace de Russy, voted against Bowen’s presidency. From the beginning of his tenure as president, Bowen was made a target by de Russy and other conservative critics who repeatedly called for his dismissal. Planting themselves at ordinary campus functions such as the 1997 Women’s Studies conference “Revolting Behavior: The Challenges of Women’s Sexual Freedom” and the 1999 staging of Eve Ensler’s play “The Vagina Monologues,” these “watchdogs” were able to create controversy where there was none. Bowen’s own dogged commitment to the First Amendment and academic freedom brought him under increasing fire from critics, despite the fact that in 1998, he was awarded the Alexander Meiklejohn Award by the American Association of University Professors for his defense of academic freedom. Bowen resigned as president of SUNY New Paltz in late August, accepting the post of president at the Milwaukee Public Museum. In a final interview, Bowen told Chronogram, “I feel a sense of grief because I love the area and I love the people so much. I am not leaving for lack of community, faculty and student support.”

The present conflict in the academic world has sprung, I believe, from the corporatization of higher education, which is still a work in progress. Presidents have been recast into CEOs, Provosts into Chief Operating Officers and Vice Presidents for Administration into Chief Financial Officers. Deans have become “middle management,” while faculty are seen as “labor” and students have been transmogrified into “clients” or “consumers”. Such language creates new realities for the academy, ones impossible to ignore. Academic institutions ape the corporate world and devise strategic plans, turn admissions into enrollment management, conjure entrepreneurial ventures that reap rewards. More and more, search committees seek presidents who are non-traditional. In all this change, there lurks an underlying suspicion toward the old academy, its arcane traditions, its inefficient labor-intensive ways of educating students, its lifetime employment practice called tenure, its shared governance procedures, and its high costs relative to “manufacturing” graduates who can demonstrate an immediate return on society’s investment in their education. In brief, the corporate model, and the mentality it spawns, sees the academy as a social throwback sorely in need of massive remodeling.

That task is assigned to boards of trustees, often composed of people from the corporate world, some of whom may take office exhibiting a missionary impulse to remake the academy in the image of corporations, or to reflect the political base of the elected officials who named them to the board. In either case, the idea of “governing in the public trust”—in which board members work at arm’s length from full-time government and full-time educators both—may be abandoned.
The politicization of SUNY became apparent several years ago when the provost’s “Report on General Education” referenced only three books, all written by conservative cultural warriors of the 1980s: Allan Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind, Lynn Cheney’s Fifty Hours: A Core Curriculum for College Students and E.D. Hirsch’s Cultural Literacy. Not a tip of the hat was made to “the other side” to indicate a balanced approach.

Opening the door to political-cum-corporate control has profound consequences. The citizen trustee is replaced by the corporate trustee; and the corporate trustee gets the post because his/her values resonate with those who have the power of appointment and who were themselves elected because of campaign contributions from corporate America. Not always, but often, these people are unfriendly towards such traditionally embraced notions in the academy as affirmative action, multiculturalism, qualitative assessment, tenure, academic freedom, tolerance of unconventionality and quirkiness, inefficiency, and intellectual-risk taking and experimentation.
In New York the trustees are appointed by the governor and confirmed by the Senate, which for the past six years has been controlled by the same party as the governor’s. They are appointed to lengthy terms of service and are accountable to no one save the governor. Trusting the trustees—holding them accountable—is a responsibility accorded only to the governor.
In recent years the appointment of new trustees has advanced not only the corporate model, but also a political model for SUNY. It appears that every new member of the SUNY Board of Trustees appointed over the past six or seven years has passed a political litmus test: they have had to demonstrate their bona fides as Republican Party members or as “Pataki Democrats.” Not only must members of the academy yield to the hierarchical corporate governing structure, but must also now take special care to avoid upsetting the political hierarchy as well. One does this by obediently following orders, not questioning authority, professing loyalty to the powers-that-be, and altering behavior in order to accommodate political expectations.

Within our system, not one of the senior officers of SUNY has ever served as a university president at a four-year university—that probably makes SUNY unique in the national sphere of public higher education systems—and therefore they have no direct knowledge of the complexities of running a university.

But politicized leaders in higher education—hereafter I will refer to them as “edu-politicos”—evince little or no appreciation for the academic temperament, especially among presidents who dare to retain the mantle of academic respectability. We are not supposed to question them. Politicized leaders demand loyalty and are offended by critical thinking. I will never forget the words of one senior SUNY official who told me that one of my character flaws is that I am, in his words, “an independent thinker.”

Let me give another example: earlier this year the chancellor sat at my dinner table on our campus and engaged one of my most distinguished faculty members in a lively conversation about whether it was appropriate for this faculty member—an expert in American Indian history— to testify on behalf of various tribes who were asserting land claims against the State of New York. The chancellor, a lawyer, argued forcefully that my faculty member might be breaking the law because he received compensation for his trial testimony; I interrupted with the obvious point—obvious, that is, for an academic—that academic freedom superseded any legal argument, that faculty had the right and the obligation to profess as experts in any forum, whether they were paid or not. The chancellor did not respond.

Instead, when the chancellor returned to Albany he apparently instructed SUNY’s chief legal counsel to research the law and write a warning letter to my faculty member, instructing him that testifying was possibly illegal. But a close reading of the law revealed it was not illegal. And so it happened that SUNY counsel wrote my faculty person advising him that if he testified again about Indian land claims, he should first check with the State Ethics Commission because the law might be changed to make such professing into a crime.

Why would the chancellor do this? I can only surmise that since he lost the argument on legal grounds he exercised his political power as chancellor to chide my faculty member as a forceful reminder of just who is in charge. The Chronicle of Higher Education later wrote that “Many faculty ... see the SUNY Chancellor and a number of trustees as hostile to the idea of academic freedom and, as unqualified political appointees, more adept at pushing partisan agendas than supporting academe.”
Another illustration occurred earlier this year when the chief operating officer of SUNY met with campus finance officers and told them to take a message back to the campus presidents: that any event on any campus that causes embarrassment to the chancellor will be met with immediate, public rebuke.
That politicians would like their state-funded universities to avoid embarrassments and controversy is understandable, but that they expect to avoid controversy is, at best, naive. I vividly recall a discussion with a senior SUNY administrator who claimed he supported New Paltz’s Theater Arts department in staging “The Vagina Monologues” because he supports academic freedom, but then said he disapproved of one monologue about the rape of a young girl by an older woman. That monologue, of course, is based on factual reality, but no matter.

Edu-politicos cannot adequately safeguard academic freedom because they are more concerned with public image, with the re-election of themselves or their political allies, and with their own reputation for cleaning up academic “Dodge City.”

We are dealing here with conflicting cultures, one is the free-thinking academy where intellectual risk-taking, critical thinking, debate, and challenging both authority and convention are commonplace. The other culture, the political, is Clausewitzian, i.e., war by other means. Politics mean battle, competition, confrontation, disagreement, discord, factionalism, and contests for power and control. It seeks certainty, order, norm-formation, Where the academic culture thrives on ambiguity, the political depends on eliminating it. The two are so unlike that they should be kept apart. The academic will always lose to the political if a contest for dominance occurs. If you doubt this, then only recall the trial of Socrates.

Neither the corporate penchant for efficiency nor the political preference for order can be healthily reconciled with the freedom that lies at the core of academe, yet of the two, the political is the more pernicious. So long as tenure and academic freedom are respected, administrators held to corporate standards can get by, even thrive on those occasions when the bosses actually adhere to the measurable standards they set. Student retention, graduation rates, dollars raised, and the like are all measurable and therefore can serve as the basis for evaluation of performance.

But, when the political model trumps the corporate, not to mention the purely academic, problems will occur. I use my own situation as an example.

A few months ago I was told by a SUNY official that I would be happier working at a private university where “independent thinking” was “valued”. His advice came not long after a terribly distorted editorial in the New York Post, an ideologically rightist paper, lampooned a New Paltz women students’ symposium on female sexuality. I was told that some in power saw this as an “in your face” event that I had orchestrated. I explained that the event was entirely funded by student fees, that I had no knowledge of it—any more than I know in advance who the Philosophy Club invites to campus to speak. No matter again. The charge was that I had not “controlled” my students any better than I had “controlled” the performance of “The Vagina Monologues.”

What struck me in several subsequent conversations with one SUNY official was the absence of any reference to my performance as academic leader, fund-raiser, community leader, writer, teacher, and financial administrator. I was being judged by an ideological measuring stick.

I am not saying that those now in control of public education in New York State are malevolent, nor am I saying that they do not have good intentions. But we in the academy know that respect is given only to those who earn it, not simply by having good intentions but by doing good work. We are accustomed to assigning values to real work, but also accustomed to determining for ourselves the criteria for rewards. That is one element of academic freedom. Another element of our culture is to eschew political bias in assigning values. We should not favor those who favor us. And we should always support the right, and obligation, of members of the academy to speak truthfully in every imaginable arena.

My message this evening has been intentionally provocative. I would provoke you to consider seriously the unhealthy encroachment of the political realm into the academic. I would ask you to rethink of the academy as a sort of secular church, no less aspirationally moral and in search of freedom of thought and expression than the temples and churches whom our foreparents had the good sense to protect from the state. The political players in this struggle do not appear to share these goals.
I close with these questions: Is it not time to profess that our age-old and well-tested search for truth must be left alone by politicians? Is it not time to declare that the academy refuses to be compromised by political meddling?

—Lorna Tychostup