BY CATHRYN BAILEY

I once had a faculty colleague who could be as blunt as a barbell, as direct as a laser beam, and as unblinking as an ancient tortoise. A middle-aged woman of color, she eschewed the feminine niceties required to earn her likability badge in the raced and gendered game of social and political acceptability. I never saw her indulge in pettiness, but she was often urgently insistent and uncompromising when it came to issues she considered important, though, predictably, this sometimes subjected her to accusations that she was “angry,” “not nice,” and even uncivil. In this post, I further explore a theme I touched upon in “How Diversity Rhetoric Obscures Structural Inequalities in Higher Education.”

Although almost everyone can agree that “civil discourse” is a good thing—just as we agree that puppies and kittens are cute—we have probably noticed that calls for “civility” do not rain down equally on all speakers. Notably, aggressive speaking patterns often pass unremarked upon when enacted by powerful white men. In fact, I used to have a white male university colleague—let’s call him Wilbur—who periodically let fly with splutteringly defensive tirades that might as well have been staged vignettes for an anger-management class. While a woman’s “aggressive” style may become legendary—perhaps even leading to professional misconduct charges—I never, not once, heard anyone call Wilbur out for his explosive, steamrolling rants. Not. One. Time. Such expressions of white masculinity seem to be knitted so tightly into some homes, classrooms, and conference rooms, that it may be hard to see that they function as a tool to silence others, especially people of color, women, and more soft-spoken white men. Such intimidating speech is surely the antithesis of “polite” or “civil” discourse but is so common and accepted that these guys may never be called out for it.

On the other hand, people of all genders and races may be discomfited by the assertive outspokenness of a woman or person of color as we are not by a white man’s tirade, even if we ourselves belong to a marginalized group. Don’t “our own people” know that such “harsh” words make it harder for the rest of us to assimilate? As the collapse of every single democratic presidential candidacy this past year by a woman or person of color has underscored, retrograde racial and gender double standards are alive and well and bound into self-serving notions of civil discourse. Unfortunately, anyone who dares to point out that a white man’s aggressively silencing speech may be more likely to become the target of his rage than to receive support from a conspiratorially silent room. Simply paying attention to the contexts in which calls for civility arise and gain traction, then, can serve as an object lesson in the dynamics of power, race, gender, and the limits of acceptable campus speech. Civil discourse is surely a good thing, but not when it is used, quite selectively, to shame some while enabling others.

For example, several times, another university colleagues, a white woman—let’s call her Wilma—was urged by campus leaders to modulate her “tone,” together with “helpful advice” about “smiling” and “civility.” This, by the way, was in response to communications that, style-wise, are much like what you read here. Whether in speech or writing, Wilma tended toward deliberateness and directness, but was no one’s idea of a hothead. In fact, because of her soft-spokenness, Wilma often had to repeat herself to be heard at all. Her contributions to discussions were dismissed not because they violated reasonable norms of “civility” or respect, then, but because her critics didn’t like what she had to say. It was evident to many that, rather than address the uncomfortable, dissenting content of Wilma’s message, some campus leaders preferred to challenge Wilma’s politeness and civility.

The silencing of dissenters has never been made less obnoxious by being blended in with platitudes about politeness or civility, especially since it is those in power, themselves, who usually get to define and enforce these terms. Despite the extraordinary range of communication styles—across cultures, historical eras, and even academic disciplines—a handful of self-designated campus “civility police” often emerge to enforce their particular standard of whose speech is acceptable enough to deserve a hearing. Even worse, anyone who objects to the policing of her tone by a self-designated civilly superior other is all but guaranteed, from the outset, to be seen as confirming the accusation, especially if they are anyone other than a white man. When civil discourse is neutered to mean nothing more than “speech agreeable to those running the show,” then the legitimate dissent of people of color and white women becomes nearly impossible

Upon even minimal reflection, of course, we see that civility ought not be reduced to self-serving, finger-wagging calls to “be nice,” that, in fact, it must often be fierce, especially in the face of trenchant stupidity or deadly injustice. The whole point of civil discourse, after all, is to increase robust, substantive speech—not curtail it. And because the current pandemic catastrophe is as much a political and social debacle as a public health crisis—exponentially exacerbated by incompetence, greed and social inequality—outspoken campus voices, especially those of people of color and white women, are more necessary than ever. It’s worth remembering, then, that, as has always been the case, those in positions of power may try to selectively define and enforce “civility” when dissenters appear. It’s a heavy-handed and dangerous tactic and we university types have a special responsibility not to fall for such authoritarian tricks. After all, academic freedom means nothing at all if vulnerable faculty can be cut from the herd or chased away from the table the moment the person controlling the mic or the Zoom mute button decides they don’t like what we have to say.

Guest blogger Cathryn Bailey is professor of gender and women’s studies at Western Michigan University.

Articles from the current and past issues of Academe are available online. AAUP members receive a subscription to the magazine, available both by mail and as a downloadable PDF, as a benefit of membership.