A college is often described as a marketplace of ideas, an ideologically diverse forum for the productive exchange of thought. However, turning this vision into a reality is more complicated. Is the best approach a top-down or a bottom-up one? The likely answer is both. Students need to feel accepted for heterogeneous viewpoints, and the administration needs to take concrete steps to protect this. According to President Kotlikoff in his New York Times op-ed, Cornell embodies this discourse-driven, diverse campus. However, Kotlikoff emphasizes a politically beneficial, false representation of free speech that ignores the vital role of bottom-up student efforts.
It’s likely no coincidence that this essay comes at a politically charged moment. The Trump administration has been threatening funding for universities that have publically struggled with civil free speech. This op-ed signals to Trump that Cornell is different from Harvard and Columbia, that it can handle opposing views without a campus devolving into chaos. However, does any Cornellian care? Kotlikoff’s intentions are honorable, but his account seems to contradict the ground reality. If students are not engaging with the events Kotlikoff cites as defining of free speech at Cornell, then it raises the question of whether a culture of discourse pervades, or if Kotlikoff’s essay represents an administrator’s detached generalizations.
Take the Pathways for Peace event, a focal point in Kotlikoff’s essay. While attending the event, I was shocked by the low turnout. Despite the event being listed as sold out, Bailey Hall, Cornell’s largest venue, was sparsely filled. Many of the attendees were removed for protesting, and people began to leave before the forum ended. A similar situation occurred at Ann Coulter’s talk. There were a plethora of empty seats, and many were filled by local Ithacans, not Cornellians. This is a far cry from the widespread engagement with diverse views Kotlikoff describes. Additionally, the events felt contrived and disconnected from campus discourse. As Kotlikoff emphasized, it is important that students view the “world beyond shouted slogans and curated stories,” but in a tense atmosphere with a high administrator-to-student ratio, limited opportunity for dialogue, and, in the case of the Pathways event, a short Q&A section, simple exposure did not mean processing or internalizing the ideas.
Kotlikoff’s focus on university-sponsored events ignored the good work Cornell students have done in advancing free speech. Consider the Ben Shapiro and Michael Knowles events. Both were student-run and hosted speakers of similar controversy to Ann Coulter and the Pathways for Peace experts. The two talks were sold out and filled their respective auditoriums. Notably, Shapiro packed Bailey Hall, something Pathways for Peace did not accomplish. Despite the almost universal contempt for both speakers among Cornellians, attendees engaged in civil, constructive discourse. There were no hecklers in the event, and no one was removed. These events are more compelling examples of controversial figures being (relatively) respectfully received on campus. The civil discourse Kotlikoff speaks of has been strongly exemplified by student-led organizations. By not focusing on the work of students and instead focusing on university-sponsored events, Kotlikoff missed the grassroots, student-led efforts that make genuine free speech possible.
However, there is some truth in Kotlikoff’s vision of Cornell as a free speech haven that comes from bottom-up efforts. Conservative students have expressed that they have encountered respect for their views in both daily conversations and interpersonal relationships. They describe not being academically penalized for expressing their views in papers and have encountered thoughtful civility when they spoke out in class. In my own experience, my professors have assigned both left and right leaning authors and have opened up debates for the merits of both. Cornell, while not a free speech paradise, has a demonstrated respect for opposing viewpoints.
But, there is a chilling effect that exists alongside this reality. Despite general interpersonal acceptance, any person who has seen broader campus reactions to conservative views is likely to self-censor. After the Ben Shapiro event, those who expressed support for Shapiro during the Q&A section were ridiculed and belittled. For example, one person who stated he was a gay Republican was chided as voting against his own interests. Rather than adding nuance into an understanding of the Republican party or attempting to empathize with him, people simply criticized him. “He’s stupid,” campus reasoned, ignoring any legitimate reasons he might have to vote red. Any conservative would be hesitant to speak after this universal condemnation.
Veiled statements against conservatives also exist alongside more public criticisms. Someone implied that a conservative who attended CPAC was a Nazi. Statements like “I’d rather die than be a Republican” are not uncommon. One shocked classmate told a conservative that “you’re too nice to be a Republican.” Beyond slight jabs, social repercussions against conservatives can range from light to extreme. One described losing Instagram followers over their support of Trump. At its most extreme, one reported being effectively blacklisted by certain club members after expressing support for free speech in the context of Ann Coulter’s return to campus. This creates a culture of apprehensiveness when discussing alternative views, undermining the kind of robust discourse a truly open environment tries to foster.
I have two suggestions for the administration to create this open environment: the first is to let student organizations run controversial speaker events. Cornell should have a role in helping to attract and fund speakers, but there is a presumed and intuitive reason why students organize events such as Slope Day: administrators should not be coordinating events which students are primarily engaged in. This has to do with both the generational gap and the inherent understanding other students have of their fellow peers. By ensuring students have a primary role in this organization, Cornell can leverage the very demographic they aim to appeal to, and the administration serves as a facilitator and not a coordinator. Second, the University should take heed of institutional neutrality. It’s not the University’s job to choose which perspectives we listen to in public relations-oriented, artificial events. The university is a forum where the loudest voices should be the students’. By allowing the students to take the lead in deciding who comes to campus, instead of the administration pre-selecting which voices they deem important, students can decide which perspectives they believe are the most important to engage with. This would move the University closer to a form of institutional neutrality. Selecting speakers, even with the strongest attempts at neutrality, will reflect administrative biases. Thus, a form of expression of the student body, where they are empowered to have real, productive, and student-led conversations.
Kotlikoff’s essay, while well-intentioned, likely overstates the presence of a productive campus speech environment. Hosting controversial speakers is important, but it is not enough. Discourse cannot simply be imposed from the top-down; it also has to come from the bottom-up. It requires shaping the campus norms so any person can express their views without fear of unreasonable repercussions. Until then, press releases and university-sponsored events are a poor substitute for real change.