Gagging Academia
The right to teach, debate and protest faces a high-stakes challenge in Pittsburgh’s universities and beyond.
Editor’s note: This fall, President Donald Trump’s administration seeks to reshape higher education. In a “compact” it floated to nine major universities (none in Pittsburgh) early this month, the administration:
- Called for an end to “preferential treatment” based on demographics in admissions and hiring
- Pushed for controls on campus expression and on “actions or speech relating to societal and political events” by university employees
- Declared that “academic freedom is not absolute.”
The administration asserts that the model will “advance the national interest arising out of this unique relationship” between the U.S. government and higher education. Reports indicate that seven schools rejected the compact, Vanderbilt is still in talks with the administration and the University of Texas said it was honored but has been silent since. Trump has said the agreement is open to all universities.
As university leaders respond in a wide range of ways to federal policy changes and pronouncements, Pittsburgh’s Public Source is publishing “Gagging Academia: The right to teach, debate and protest faces a high-stakes challenge in Pittsburgh’s universities and beyond.” Pittsburgh’s largest institutions of higher ed have not yet spoken publicly about the proposed federal compact, and said little when Public Source sought their takes on the state of academic freedom.
We sought input on academic freedom from Pittsburgh-area scholars. Here are the perspectives of two professors and one student.
Candace Skibba, Hispanic studies professor, Carnegie Mellon University
These are trepidatious times on U.S. campuses. The Chronicle of Higher Education tells us that “A classroom clash over course content went viral. Texas A&M Fired the Instructor and Removed 2 Administrators.” And the most recently proposed “compact” by the federal government suggests that compliance with their agenda will afford institutions federal benefits.
While this may seem unrelatable to many, these historic measures shaking our institutions of higher education may have profound effects on the human capacity to think and learn – effects that are largely being brushed aside.
In most media, we hear about the loss of funding, the impacts on research and innovation, the layoffs and shuttering of academic departments. Yet, what is not as visible is the trepidation, worry and exhaustion that is felt by many who are in the classroom.
While there have been many unexpected turns in my own 32-year journey in higher education, the classroom has always been a place where I pride myself on creating a rich learning environment in which students are encouraged to think critically and for themselves, to question standards and to link their studies to the world around them. I have attempted to create an energy of openness and acceptance for varied points of view.
For the past nine months I have contemplated whether I should leave the door open while discussing equity-focused teaching methods with my undergraduate research assistants. I’ve worried about who is listening during moments in class when we discuss fascism, colonialism, racism, inclusivity and eugenics – topics that are relevant not only to my field of literary and cultural studies, but, in my estimation, to all humanistic discussions. Censoring or ignoring controversial, complicated, real human experience in favor of prioritizing a nationalistic and false narrative is a master manipulation undermining critical thought and inquiry.
Make no mistake, I have neither the right nor desire to convince my students that one way of thinking should be prioritized over another, nor that one political ideology should prevail. And yet, I can’t deny that I have been acutely aware of the possibility that if overheard or overseen by certain folks, the utterance of particular words and discussion of specific topics could affect my career or even, in extreme cases, be dangerous.
If universities take measures to keep their funding but manipulate their policies and curriculum to kneel to political expectations, the implication is that protecting the bottom line is the main goal. As naïve as it sounds, I would like to think that what brings us all together in these institutions is that we believe in the importance of learning — learning that cannot take place without freedom from unprecedented, unwarranted and unfounded censorship, doxing and external control.
Jane Windsheimer, communications student, Carlow University
I’m in my senior year at Carlow with a major in communications, a concentration in advocacy and social change and a double minor in women’s and gender studies and public policy and leadership. My studies keep me very involved on campus where I directly see the impact of the Trump administration on academia. I often compare the news to an episode of “The Twilight Zone” because it feels fictional.
There’s no way our government could go so far as banning words. Yet the administration has pushed universities to cut references to diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) from public materials, and that even reached a small university’s modest art gallery.
Our campus art gallery has a faculty curator, but also includes a team of students. I spent two semesters interning in the gallery as the communications lead. During a team meeting, the curator asked me to look into the sudden disappearance of the exhibition archive page on the gallery’s website.
I wished our team had been informed beforehand. Temporarily removing a website page doesn’t seem like a big deal, but at that moment it felt like waving a white flag in surrender, without even putting on your uniform.
Search for Carlow’s exhibition archive today at its original site, and your browser will tell you it’s “not found.” At least since May, the exhibit archive has been available on our library’s website.
(Editor’s note: Public Source used the Internet Archive Wayback Machine to determine that the original gallery exhibition archive page was up from 2021 through at least October 2024. The current exhibition archive page lists a “last updated” date of May 14, and it’s unclear whether the page existed prior to that date.
Public Source asked Carlow for information on the exhibition archive, and a spokesperson wrote: “As with many higher education institutions, we update our website on a regular basis to reflect timely campus information, new programs, and enhancements to the overall user experience. In fact, we started a major refresh of the website in the spring of 2024 … The Art Gallery page has always remained on our website, albeit in a different location, because Carlow University is committed to creating a more just and merciful world.”)
To me as a writer, censorship from afar is little worse than self-censorship, or than standing between expression and the audience.
On campus, I’ve been a staff member of our undergraduate literary and arts journal, “The Critical Point,” since my freshman year. The journal has existed for almost 38 years, and staff wear a lot of hats, but the toughest part is selecting which submissions will, and won’t, be published. As a person who actively submits to publications, this is rough. I know the weight of rejection, and the vulnerability that comes with submitting in the first place.
The 15 to 20 staff members independently read or view each submission and vote on whether it moves forward. Submissions that are on the cusp are discussed by the group. It’s not always easy to come to a decision.
That was particularly true last semester when we received a piece addressing suicide. We chose not to accept the piece — other submissions scored higher. But, for the first time, we considered including a trigger warning at the start of the journal.
I have a difficult relationship with content warnings. I understand their value, but they also change the tone before the reader even engages by insinuating that the piece is intense or violent. As Grace Black, founding editor of “Ink in Thirds,” said, “good writing should be celebrated, not censored.” And self-censorship is the most efficient way to eliminate academic freedom.
If we extend academic freedom to students the same way it’s been given to professors, then we should have the ability to publish our work without the constraint of a content warning.
When I imagine a college campus without academic freedom I truly think it’s like a grocery store without food. There is no point. Education, in general, can’t exist without creativity and open expression. More than anything, we have to be willing to put up some kind of fight, even if it results in a compromise.
Philip Hackney, law professor, University of Pittsburgh
I left a treasured career as a government attorney to become a law professor. I believed academia gave me the most freedom to express my conscience, one of my most treasured values. I feel most authentic when I am true to myself and to the world.
As a law professor, I could study law and write what I believe to be true and just without worry that I may lose my job or face harmful consequences. That has been the case throughout my career up to today.
However, the institution of academic freedom which works to protect speech in higher education is under significant attack. Indeed, just since September, some 50 college professors have been fired or disciplined for comments about slain conservative activist Charlie Kirk, according to the American Association of University Professors (AAUP).
Many states have passed laws restricting diversity, equity and inclusion efforts and speech in colleges and universities. Finally, the Trump administration has used the force of the government to try to end speech and research it dislikes at colleges and universities nationwide.
We should all be concerned about the erosion of this right.
Academic freedom is an oddity in the U.S. because, generally, an employer has wide control over the actions of its employees. At colleges and universities, academic freedom limits that right, and is related to the institution of tenure. Those limits are necessary to a free, educated and successful society.
While strongly related to the critical First Amendment rights of freedom of speech and association, academic freedom is more a norm than legal right. Academic freedom in the United States dates to the late 1800s to early 1900s. Professors like John Dewey and Arthur Lovejoy, responding to the dismissals of professors for speech that upset the powerful, formed the AAUP to protect freedom in research, the classroom, and extramurally.
Academic freedom is there to protect the faculty member to freely investigate the truth within their discipline. Limitations on thought and speech can only hinder the search for truth and knowledge, perhaps the most important mission of universities and colleges.
Problematically, new ideas and the expression of thought contrary to the status quo often annoy leaders of the government and major donors to universities. This creates a constant threat to this important institution. But restrictions would hamper our ability as a society to adapt to changing conditions and find solutions to problems. It would also harm the democratic rights of individuals to be fully informed as citizens on issues before their government.
Academic freedom is not well protected by the law. The most the AAUP can do is to censure a university. While the Supreme Court has spoken highly of the importance of academic freedom as a constitutional right, that right is only applicable at public universities and has not been found to be an individual right of a faculty member.
At private universities, academic freedom can be a contractual right, but even that is rare.
What can we do? Inform ourselves about its importance and speak up when professors are suspended or fired for their speech. We can make a difference through using the freedom of our voice.
I take pride in teaching law students. To be good advocates, and citizens, they need to be prepared to face as wide a range of thoughts and ideas as exist and not be afraid to express that which they believe to be true, or to confront that with which they disagree. If I am constricted in what I can discuss, that does not happen.
Academic freedom is key to a willingness to speak and write freely, not just of professors but also of the students we teach. I genuinely hope we find the courage and the wisdom to push back against the intense effort to constrict this freedom. Our legal system, our political system and so much else depends upon that defense.
Candace Skibba can be reached at candacesskibba@gmail.com
Jane Windsheimer can be reached at janewindsheimer@gmail.com or via www.linkedin.com/in/jane-windsheimer.
Phil Hackney can be reached at phackney@pitt.edu.
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