BY JEFFREY ISAAC
Jeffrey Isaac is the James H. Rudy Professor of Political Science at Indiana University. He posted these thoughts about reopening IU on his personal blog, and we are reposting them with his permission.
On Thursday, May 21, I received an e-mail from Indiana University President Michael McRobbie addressed to all IU colleagues. The message shared news about the “phased reopening” of IU campuses and planning for the fall semester. It also shared with readers the “expert” Restart Report put together by the Restart Committee charged with recommending “when and under what conditions the university can restart, that is resume, in whole or part, normal face-to-face operations.” The Report itself is a 22-page glossy document, professionally designed, that is dated May 15, 2020 (which means that IU administration had almost a week to consider it before releasing it).
In his message, President McRobbie noted that the Report was designed in accordance with the state of Indiana’s reopening strategy, which is predicated on the ability of the state to test all Hoosiers who are symptomatic. And he neatly summed up the Report’s significance:
“This report contains a number of important recommendations about the medical and public health measures that would permit us to enter into a period of phased reopening of our research and teaching operations. We are all enormously grateful to the members of the committee for their outstanding efforts, which have been driven by science and the overwhelming importance of the safety and well-being of the entire university community.”
McRobbie also noted that the Report’s recommendations left open important questions, to be decided in the coming days:
Of course, the most difficult question we must consider is the resumption of on-campus instruction. A central recommendation in the Restart Committee’s report is that the fall semester can involve on-campus in-person instruction “in some proportion,” with extensive risk mitigation, testing and tracking procedures that the report describes in considerable detail. A key prerequisite for this is the comprehensive testing capacity that we now have in place that is a prerequisite to a responsible decision about bringing students, faculty and staff back to campus. I have transmitted the Restart Report to all campuses and have asked that they report back no later than May 26 as to how they will implement this central recommendation of the report, which supports a blended or hybrid model of instruction, and confirm that they can implement such an instructional model with appropriate risk mitigation as outlined in the committee’s report.
I have read both President McRobbie’s message and the “Indiana University Restart Committee Recommendations Report” with care. And as an IU faculty member and Bloomington resident for 33 years who served two terms as chair of the political science department and makes a living interpreting political texts and analyzing political decisions, I am deeply troubled by the Report, what it says, and what it does not say.
I have been closely following medical, public health, and political discussions of the pandemic for months, reading reports, participating in online debates, and interacting regularly with a wide range of colleagues at IU and throughout the world. And everything I know tells me that residential university campuses are spaces that are extremely vulnerable to the super-spreading of an infectious disease like COVID-19.
I fear for the health and safety of myself and my faculty and staff colleagues, especially those of us who are approaching age 60 or older. I also fear for the health and safety of students, and of everyone in the city of Bloomington and Monroe County who is likely to come into regular contact with students and campus workers who have been exposed to the coronavirus.
Fear is not an argument.
Clearly decisions about the coming academic year need to be made; no decision is without costs, and all decisions have potential benefits and risks; and decisions ought to be based on the best scientific evidence regarding public health and the broad well-being of the university’s many stakeholders.
Decisions will be hard to make. Given the structure of power at Indiana University, these decisions will be made by the President, his Executive Council—which includes Bloomington Provost Lauren Robel—and close advisers, presumably in very close consultation with the Board of Trustees and very minimal consultation with a small group of “faculty leaders.” (Will city and county officials like the Mayor of Bloomington be consulted?)
As a political scientist, I know that all leaders of organizations have special prerogatives and vested interests that are not necessarily shared by all those who are included within the organization.
At the same time, I have no reason to doubt the good intentions of IU powerholders who are facing a difficult situation and trying to do the best that they can to keep IU running for the benefit of students, faculty and staff, and the broader community.
Hard choices need to be made, and these will involve sacrifices.
But this Report does not inspire confidence that the “phased reopening” that is being contemplated is a good idea for public health or public education at IU.
The process that produced the report is shockingly narrow
IU is not a democracy. Indeed, like most major research universities, it has a very corporate structure of governance. At the same time, “faculty governance,” however feeble, is still given lip-service by the institution. And, more generally, it is acknowledged, even by the Report, that the institution has a range of participants and stakeholders who will be effected by the decisions that are taken.
And so it is quite striking how unrepresentative the Restart Committee is. Chaired by the Executive Vice President and Dean of the School of Medicine, the committee includes four Medical School professors, six professors of Public Health, a representative of IU Health, a representative of Eli Lilly, and university counsel. It does not include any economists, sociologists, anthropologists, political scientists, or legal scholars. Nor does it include philosophers or humanists or even psychologists who study moral decision-making or ethics and public policy. Keep in mind that this is a university committee of university “experts.” “Restart” involves questions of medicine and public health, but also questions of public policy, finance, the sociology of education, the culture of student life on campus and off, etc. Yet none of these issues were incorporated into the deliberations of the university’s strategic planning process as organized by this Uber-committee. [The Report is worth comparing to the Roadmap to Pandemic Resilience produced by a truly interdisciplinary group of experts at Harvard’s Edmund J. Safra Center for Ethics.]
But it is not only that the Report fails to take advantage of the entire range of serious intellectual resources on the university’s faculty.
It also fails to represent any of the campus groups whose experiences are themselves a kind of knowledge, and who will bear most of the consequences of the university’s decisions about reopening. And while the university is not a democracy, it is a human association that involves the knowledgeable cooperation of many people. And these people matter as human beings who experience the world and are capable of articulating their experiences and concerns. This was put best by the great philosopher John Dewey in his most important work of political philosophy, The Public and its Problems: “The man who wears the shoe knows best that it pinches and where it pinches, even if the expert shoemaker is the best judge of how the trouble is to be remedied.”
Expert knowledge can only take us so far without a consideration of the human interests at stake. And the historical record suggests that it is both arrogant and counterproductive for some to interpret the interests of others, without those others even having a say. What are the most important priorities for the diverse university community in the face of the pandemic? Advanced degrees in medicine and public health confer no special wisdom here.
University scholars are also teachers, employees of the university whose work potentially puts them at grave risk. Professional and non-professional staff, and student employees, also work on campus and have concerns, fears, etc. Should these groups—some actually even have unions!– have representation in the highest level discussions about “phased reopening?”
The question here is not only a question of legitimacy. It is a question of epistemology. Do the thirteen “experts” who produced the Report have the breadth and experience and knowledge to identify the full range of concerns that need to be considered in this moment of real crisis?
Knowledge and its limits
Much of the Report centers on what is known about the virus and its spread; the kinds of measures–“social distancing” combined with testing and contact tracing—necessary to mitigate its spread; and the ways that these measures could be implemented on campus. There is no reason to doubt what the Report says about these things.
But the Report is strikingly evasive and sometimes silent about other important things that are known.
The most glaring evasion relates to one of the most grounded scientific-medical questions in play: the question of testing itself. The report emphasizes that IU is prepared to put in place a comprehensive testing regime capable of assuring the safe “student body. . . return (in some proportion) for fall semester.” The Report asserts that it “is aligned with the guiding principles” of “Back on Track Indiana,” including this principle: “The state retains the ability to test all Hoosiers who are COVID-19 symptomatic, as well as healthcare workers, essential workers, first responders, and others as delineated on the ISDH website.” In President McRobbie’s message sharing the Report, he notes that IU has just entered into a “comprehensive agreement” with IU Health “to screen and test any member of the IU community . . . who is symptomatic for COVID-19.”
But the report itself lists this as its fourth “guiding premise” (p. 6): “Approximately 40-50% of individuals infected by SARS-CoV-2, and capable of shedding virus, are asymptomatic.” This is commonly known. And it is one reason why many scientists have argued that randomized testing is necessary for communities to obtain an accurate account of the dangers of mass infection. Yet the Report’s proposals offer no allowance for such testing, and say nothing about the practical implication of the fact asymptomatic carriers are very infectious. Testing people only once they are ill does little to furnish any assurance that testing can help to limit the spread of the disease itself.
The Report’s comments about testing are thus strange. But stranger still are its comments on the “personal and public health practices” which are “primary tools to limit the viral spread and harm.” These tools loom very large in the report, much larger than any medical treatments.
Among these are the following:
“Promote education and awareness. Post signs and symptoms of COVID-19 and what to do if symptomatic.”
“Cloth face coverings are to be worn in public spaces and in face-to-face meetings while on campus.”
“Double dorm room occupancy will be feasible if students are allowed to choose their roommates.”
“Assign students to specific bathrooms if there are multiple units on a floor. Schedule times for grooming and showering to reduce simultaneous occupancy when possible.”
“Restrict self-service of food and/or beverages (buffets, salad bars, drink stations, condiment stations, etc.) and avoid using or sharing items such as menus, condiments, and food.”
“Limit number of indoor diners in accordance with state and local capacity guidelines and limit tables to six or fewer guests.”
“Recommend that housed Greek organizations, and where applicable, other off-campus housing organizations implement similar protocols for housing, dining, social gatherings, meetings and events.”
It is easy to see that measures such as these involve a substantial reorganization of the social space of the campus, and presume a high level of student compliance with publicly posted rules.
It is also easy to see that absolutely no evidence is provided in the Report to support the notion that such compliance is even remotely likely.
This is probably because there is no such evidence.
If the Report were as serious about the social and cultural situation as it is about the medical situation, it would have sought to incorporate serious social scientific research about campus life, and to include people with scholarly and practical knowledge about this into its deliberations.
Like most IU faculty members, I have no research expertise about student behavior. But having taught on the Bloomington campus for over three decades, I do have a great deal of practical, experientially-based knowledge. And what I know is that most IU students will not become careful readers of public postings about the coronavirus or anything else; they will not practice social distancing or proper personal hygiene; and they will congregate and party and drink and share food and utensils, and use bathrooms and showers as they please without regard to new rules that are unenforceable.
And then these students will use campus transportation—where the Report concedes “social distancing” is almost impossible– and come into classrooms where they will bring with them all of their habits and maladies. The Report says that it is important to “organize classes to minimize risk,” to “minimize class size to achieve physical distancing of at least 6 feet,” and to wear cloth masks “on campus and in classes.” Is IU really prepared to make classes this sparsely attended? And does it have ways of ensuring this level of physical distancing in classrooms? And what about the hallways of the buildings that contain the rooms? And the cafeterias and libraries?
Skepticism is a legitimate reaction to the Report
The Report rests on assumptions about social behavior, especially student behavior, on campus life that lack evidence and beg credulity.
At the same time, it is exceptionally vague about the practical ramifications of its proposals for the actual “phased reopening” of the university. Further, it acknowledges that a range of special accommodations may be necessary; that contingencies are likely; and that reversals or modifications of policies may be needed. And it is clear that this Report was never intended to be strongly prescriptive for any particular decisions about any particular campus, and is mainly intended to identify the central principles that any such decisions must honor.
In these respects, it is possible to read the Report as stating some fairly anodyne necessary conditions of reopening and little else.
But I think such a reading is mistaken. For while specific decisions have yet to be made, the Report establishes the basic framework through which possible decisions will be evaluated and then taken by higher administration. President McRobbie said as much in his message: “I have transmitted the Restart Report to all campuses and have asked that they report back no later than May 26 as to how they will implement this central recommendation of the report, which supports a blended or hybrid model of instruction, and confirm that they can implement such an instructional model with appropriate risk mitigation as outlined in the committee’s report.” This suggests that it has already been decided that there will be a substantial return of students to campuses in the Fall, and that the “risk mitigation” measures outlined in the Report will be considered sufficient to allay concerns about the serious dangers associated with such a reopening.
They do not allay my concerns.
Nor do they convince me that reopening in this way in the Fall is the most cost-effective or pedagogically wise option, for these issues were simply not taken up by the Report.
But on health grounds alone, what the Report says about testing and about student behavior should raise a gigantic red flag for anyone who is serious about public health or the well-being of themselves and their families.
Further Thoughts on Why The Culture of Campus Life Would Make A Premature Reopening a Disaster
The Report rests on truly heroic assumptions—assumptions that bring to mind the five-year plans of high Stalinism!–about the moral transformation of IU undergraduates into scrupulous rule followers who prioritize “personal and public hygiene” and place the well-being of others above their pursuit of personal convenience and pleasure.
The Report, on the basis of no evidence, invites us to take leave of our common sense and of our knowledge of the way social institutions work, and to imagine that “the IU experience” will overnight be transformed into a place of sobriety, care for others, and moral responsibility.
Obviously, students are a very diverse group, and many students are wonderful and responsible young human beings. And indeed, most of these students who choose to behave in what I will call “licentious” ways are also fine young people who experimenting with a new-found freedom in an environment that encourages this.
At the same time, campus life is what it is, and students who attend residential campuses behave in the ways that students behave.
And while skepticism about the Report’s vision of student life is generally well-placed, it is particularly well-placed when thinking about the fraternities and sororities that play an important role on the IU campus and whose nature is sufficient for us to greatly fear any reopening.
The Report notes that Greek houses on campus will be “encouraged” to follow the many recommendations for “physical distancing” and “public and personal hygiene.”
It is well known that these houses have long been “encouraged” to follow state laws and campus rules regarding drinking alcohol; they have been “encouraged” to promote consensual sexual interaction and to prevent the practice of sexual harassment, abuse and rape; and they have been “encouraged” to avoid vandalism, rituals of degradation, and a culture of partying and alcohol abuse.
It is also well known that these forms of “encouragement” have had little effect.
The IU Office of Student Affairs lists all student organizations subject to discipline in 2019-2020.
Nine Greek houses were suspended last year; one was ordered to “cease and desist”; and twelve others were placed on “disciplinary status,” for a range of violations that include harassment, hazing, alcohol, and “endangering of others.”
That’s 22 Greek houses.
I claim no expertise on the culture and demographics of Greek campus life. When I Googled “average number of students in a fraternity,” I was brought to a website on “Fifty Best Colleges for Greek Life,” and to this: “The average fraternity size is 77 members while the average sorority size is 178 members. Greeks have the opportunity to participate in many philanthropic opportunities as well as community events.” However one calculates the numbers at IU, it is likely that somewhere between one and two thousand students were involved in Greek “violations” last academic year. That is a lot of students, and it does not count the many others who attended parties at Greek houses.
According to IU Student Affairs, over 8000 students are currently members of the Greek system at IU.
How many of these students need to violate the Report’s “public and personal hygiene” rules for a “superspreading event” to take place. How likely is it that such violations will occur within the Greek community, and how often?
Notice that I’ve said nothing about the other forty thousand students who are in attendance during a normal academic year, living in dorms, eating in cafeterias, organizing their own parties, hanging out at Kilroys.
How many of these students need to violate the Report’s rules for a “superspreading event” to take place? And how easy will it be for these students, either with symptoms or without, to carry the coronavirus around with them in the hallways, elevators, offices, and classrooms, where they can share it with their peers, and IU staff and faculty, and others in the local community?
These are social scientific questions that were not even considered in the Report.
And it is quite obvious that the answers to these questions point in one direction: it is impossible for the “public and personal hygiene rules” outlined in the Report to be put into effect in a way that makes any practical difference. Given the way that student culture is organized on residential campuses, and given the broader media and consumer culture that engenders this youth culture, there is no way to instill or to compel the kind of civic culture that would be necessary to make campus a safe place for substantial in-person reopening in the Fall.
No way.
To invite many thousands of undergraduates to return to campus in the Fall is to invite disaster.
Such a disaster, should it occur, will have terrible human costs, educational costs, and legal costs.
Buried within the Report is a short section on “Employee Certification for Return to Work on Campus,” which states that “Prior to returning to work, employees must acknowledge the serious nature of COVID-19, the importance of each individual’s knowledge of the risks presented by the virus, their monitoring of their own health, their need to notify appropriate personnel if they are symptomatic and/or exposed and be tested if necessary.”
It takes neither a skeptic nor a legal eagle to see that this is at least in large part an effort for the university to indemnify itself from damages in the event that IU employees get sick after campus reopens. And while I am no legal scholar, I am fairly certain that should the virus spread on a reopened campus, there will be lawsuits filed by employees and by students. And that “employee certification” will carry little weight. There is no way for the university to avoid moral and legal liability for a premature reopening.
The bottom line is that we do not live in an ideal world, and in this world, a campus reopening now would be little different than inviting the entire IU community to spend a semester together on a cruise ship. That would be widely regarded as insane. How is a campus reopening now any less insane, and any less costly in many ways and for all concerned?
The campus should not reopen for substantial in-person teaching and learning in the Fall. It should remain open in the manner in which it was open after Spring break.
Obviously, this too would have costs, both financial and pedagogical. These costs are serious. And a serious strategic plan would seriously consider and model these costs, and also model different ways of absorbing them that are sensible and fair.
Are there ways to better connect with students via online learning, and to make it truly appealing for students to enroll for this kind of experience?
Can we do a better job of teaching them under these conditions?
How should the financial costs of this situation be born, through what combination of budget cuts, salary freezes or cuts, and borrowing?
How can the financial costs be absorbed in ways that are progressive, and require a kind of “downward redistribution” of income, so that those employees—mainly staff—who are at the bottom of the salary scale are protected, and those at the top—mainly administrators and coaches, but also some very high-priced faculty members in professional schools and even in the College are asked to sacrifice (note: I am a well-paid faculty member, and though I am certain that I am far from the top, and I am willing to consider financial sacrifices for a sensible plan that protects our health and is fair to my staff and faculty colleagues)?
These are the serious questions that IU strategic planning ought to be considering, through a serious deliberative process that incorporates the full range of relevant knowledge in the institution and that is transparent.
Most of the top administrators at IU are also colleagues, fellow humans who once experienced life on campus the way their employees do, and who truly care about the moral issues at stake.
I know that they face great pressure to reopen.
And I hope that they listen to their colleagues, like me, who are asking them to resist this pressure, and to do the right thing, and come up with a feasible plan to keep IU running as a viable and serious educational institution over the coming year without a premature reopening of campus, so that we can reopen at a later and a safer date in a way that is true to the university’s mission as a public institution of higher learning and safe and autonomous human flourishing.
This is a beautifully written, sobering, and I believe accurate analysis that applies to the reopening plans many presidents have announced. A piece in CHE suggests that presidents in Red states are playing to conservative politicians even though they know they cannot actually reopen, though in this case the whole committee would have to be in on the scam. Cary Nelson
Thank you Cary Nelson! I have long admired your own writing, so your words mean a lot to me. I also admire your leadership of the AAUP!
A more fascinating question is why universities closed in the first place. There’s more than one country that kept theirs open, and everything is just fine. Even if your sensibility is cautious or your believe what you are being told by the State and media, an equally fascinating observation (the covid program is after all, a social experiment) is how a nearly globally-unified set of college professors, many trained in the scientific method, are not applying it in the virus scenario; that is, demanding primary, forensic, tested data. The core data set consists of secondary, variously source-reported mortality (the NYT even keeping a running score card). Archeologists wouldn’t rely on government data and samples from a Occidental museum; they would go out in the field and get primary samples, or at least interrogate the secondary data. There is apparently 100% higher education confidence, passively accepted, in State and media information. Indeed, it is embraced, welcomed and even commercialized in brand new academic programs across dozens of disciplines; it is the new university funding and grant bonanza. The University of Chicago. for example, is full-steam ahead in their new “Covid 2025″ program.” It has overtaken their minds, like a Borg hive. The last thing they want is for the virus narrative to subside. Such behavior otherwise is perfectly in violation of the methods of professional skepticism, investigation and falsifiability, that define the essence of the university mission. University administration are obviously carrying water for special interests, and the scientific method, utterly abandoned. What this may mean in standards of professional conduct and student conditioning, is troubling.
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