(Also published at Medium)
Could any professor fairly summarize–in just one sentence–the complicated history of land rights in their locale over centuries of conquest and settlement? Ethicists, historians, political scientists, lawyers, and other experts could fill thick volumes while analyzing that topic–or at least fill more pages than any syllabus. Nonetheless, University of Washington (UW) computer scientist Stuart Reges provocatively stated on his syllabus “I acknowledge that by the labor theory of property the Coast Salish people can claim historical ownership of almost none of the land currently occupied by the University of Washington.” Reges now alleges in a lawsuit that his institution initiated disciplinary action in response. While this may seem on the surface to be a question of workplace speech on matters ancillary to the course, it goes to the heart of open discussion in higher education. If faculty are encouraged to air popular stances on complex questions, we must also allow dissent from those stances.
Taken in isolation, Reges’ syllabus statement is obviously inappropriate. It’s hard enough to get students to pay attention to reading assignments and homework deadlines; why alienate anyone with provocations irrelevant to course material? My physics syllabus this fall will list assignments on electromagnetic waves and relativity, not my opinions on drug legalization, face masks, or election procedures (to reference just three of my many contrarian views). The only reason to drop political bombshells in my syllabus would be to encourage careful reading. (“Hidden amidst the due dates is an opinion on gun control. Can you find it?”) If UW merely required that syllabi be simple, practical documents focused on course content and policies, few would object.
In context, though, Reges’ statement is less an exposition of John Locke’s theory of property ownership than a response to UW encouraging instructors to include syllabus statements acknowledging the Native Americans from whom the land was taken. (Writer and law professor Eugene Volokh confirmed the official encouragement in correspondence with UW Allen School Director Prof. Magdalena Balazinska.) Reges’ protest was not good pedagogy, but UW’s recommendations make it harder to reasonably push back on his statement. A university that values open inquiry and expression cannot reasonably scrub syllabi of dissent on complex topics that have been declared syllabus-appropriate.
Open inquiry does not mean that every venue must be open to every idea. My physics class this fall will not be an appropriate venue for discussing territorial claims in Kashmir (as long as we’re on the topic of land rights…), nor would a class on international politics be a good setting to discuss Einstein’s theory of relativity. Likewise, evidence-free assertions, irrespective of topical relevance, would be inappropriate in either class. However, despite the strong evidence supporting the theory of relativity, my physics class is an entirely appropriate setting for discussing clever experiments that search for evidence contradicting it.
In Reges’ case, the university had already decided that computer science syllabi are appropriate venues for discussing this topic, and his statement referenced a widely-studied philosophical argument. Locke’s argument is, of course, fair game for both praise and criticism in relevant academic venues. The fact that computer science classes are not good venues for discussing Locke’s ideas is a reason to keep computer science classes focused, not to selectively promote certain views on land ownership.
One might want to treat land acknowledgments differently from other social and political controversies since they address the propriety of the institution’s very existence in that location. However, colleges and universities avoid prescribing stances on many other activities with weighty implications for their missions. For instance, a student health center’s decision to offer (or not offer) certain reproductive health services could affect whether some students are able to remain in college, and likewise have profound moral consequences (depending on your outlook). ROTC provides crucial financial support for many students, and some research programs rely on Department of Defense research grants. Nonetheless, most people recognize that war, peace, and reproductive rights are fit for open debate, not prescribed stances.
A tempting pedagogical rationale for treating land acknowledgments differently from Reges’ critique thereof is that most land acknowledgments are harmless nods to widespread sympathies for marginalized groups, while Reges’ critique was inflammatory and distracting. However, this argument sidesteps the fact that academics frequently critique widespread sentiments. Patriotic sentiment tugs at many people’s heartstrings, but everyone agrees that criticism of the US government is fair game. Jesus preached a charitable message that even many atheists admire, but no reasonable academic would consider Christianity beyond critique. At the same time, we mostly try to strike a balance whereby religion and partisan politics are kept out of syllabi, except when germane to the course material.
If university policy just required succinct syllabi that avoid irrelevant controversies, I–and likely many other academics–would deem it a mundane workplace rule akin to word limits in travel funding requests. However, if one opens discussion of a controversial topic, basic fairness requires room for reasoned dissent in academic environments. To quote a controversial book, to everything there is a season. Syllabi should be useful, academic discussions should be informed, and dissent should receive fair consideration.
