BY DONALD A. DOWNS

In late August, John Wilson posted a critique of the recently published Princeton Principles for a Campus Culture of Free Inquiry. I have long respected Wilson’s views on higher education. In this case, however, I find his critiques misplaced. The Principles’ authors had two main objectives: garnering support for the Principles by individuals and institutions and engendering a broader debate on reform. I welcome Wilson’s critique as a catalyst in this debate.

The collaborative product of fifteen scholars and knowledgeable individuals dedicated to free inquiry, the Princeton Principles provide fundamental standards for scholarly institutions dedicated to the rigorous pursuit of truth and knowledge through free inquiry. The Principles affirm the 2014 Chicago Principles of Free Expression, which argued that universities should remain committed to “free, robust, and uninhibited debate and deliberation,” while extending Chicago’s scope by addressing the proper contours of reform and the specific domains of free speech and inquiry on campuses. I will discuss Wilson’s most important specific critiques of the Principles and his general critique.

First, Wilson maintains that our statement addressing what speech generally may be restricted regardless of context is too broad, fearing it could lead to the censorship of public speakers. But our list basically replicates Chicago’s list of exceptions and those of core First Amendment jurisprudence. No speaker is entitled to be immune to these exceptions except members of Congress shielded by the Speech and Debate Clause. And nowhere does the Princeton Principles endorse prior restraint of speakers. Known slanderers are welcome to the public forum but their speech may be held liable by appropriate authorities.

Second, Wilson critiques the Principles’ requirement that individuals should make it clear that they are speaking for themselves, not their institution, in public or extramural commentary. He worries this standard could be expanded to cover the student press, social media statements, and so on; furthermore, he asserts that the distinction between personal and institutional speech is hopelessly gray. But there are many convenient and informal ways for people to make it evident that they are speaking for themselves. Abiding by the distinction is both principled and strategic, for it takes away one major ground for institutions to sanction their internal critics.

This distinction is relevant to Wilson’s critique of the Principles’ application of the famous Kalven Report, which calls for universities to refrain from taking public positions on social and political issues that are not directly related to their basic operations and freedoms. The line between the speech of individuals or groups and speech by an institution can indeed be gray, especially in today’s politicized world. But we should do our best to adhere to the distinction, lest universities heighten conformist pressures on campus and lose more public trust by appearing to be partisan.

We expect honest disagreements about application of basic principles, but surely there is a difference, say, between a university taking a position on political interference with curriculum, as in the case of states prohibiting “divisive concepts”—an action the Principles explicitly oppose—and American support for the war in Ukraine. If a line is clear in this case, then the distinction exists. It is then a question of judgment in how to apply it. Finally, the Kalven principle is informal. We do not even suggest that it be a formal rule subject to legal sanction.

Third, Wilson also critiques the Principles’ position that faculty members’ extramural speech should not be used against them in hiring, promotion, job security, and the like. He is properly concerned about extramural statements that reveal quackery or incompetence. In my view, this position is a closer call. The authors of the Princeton Principles decided to err on the side of speech liberty in this domain because a disproportionate number of improper individual disciplinary cases today involve extramural speech. We conclude that only the general limits of free speech apply in this realm. In addition, the Principles repeatedly stress the importance of academic rigor and merit in teaching and research, leaving ample ground for such assessments in these important contexts.

Wilson’s greatest concern is that the Principles’ guidelines for reform open the door to illegitimate political input and pressure. All the authors of the statement, including me, take this concern very seriously. That is why we emphasized in the statement that any broadening of input. either internal or external, to campus speech policy must be principled, clearly justified, and limited to expanding discourse rather than restricting it in any fashion. And we stress that external input, especially from the political realm, bears the greatest burden of justification. Nor do we call for such involvement, offering guidelines only if it takes place.

A simple empirical question animates this disagreement about broadened input: How bad is the state of free and open inquiry on campus today? Has a Rubicon—a point of no return—been crossed? Who bears the responsibility to correct situations in higher education that properly call for reform?

Widely known evidence—only a tiny portion of which we cite in the Principles—strongly suggests that we have reached an inflection point in many institutions. Public trust in higher education has plummeted in recent years. And suppression and cancel culture have even affected professional organizations and journals. See, for example, Anna I. Krylov’s article “The Peril of Politicizing Science,” as a cautionary tale about censorship.

Once one accepts that a genuine problem with free inquiry exists, another question naturally arises: Where was the faculty when all this started happening? Like the AAUP in its famous 1915 Declaration, we call on faculty to lead reform efforts. But we also address how expanding the scope of input to include alumni, trustees, regents, student groups, and, as a last resort, political actors with appropriate educational authority should proceed if traditional campus leaders do not answer the call of duty.

We are acutely aware of the dangers that input from sources outside the ambit of internal leadership can present, especially politicians with partisan motivations. That is why any broadening of the orbit of input must be only in the direction of adding free speech protections and the diversity of ideas, not of restricting or inhibiting any ideas or views. With “build don’t ban” as the authors’ motto, the Princeton Principles expressly denounce any laws or regulations that restrict discourse, such as new state laws that prohibit the teaching of “divisive concepts.”

Above all, the Princeton Principles sound a clarion call for the faculty and campus leaders to get their act together, thereby making expanded input rightfully unneeded and unwanted. 

Donald A. Downs is Alexander Meiklejohn Emeritus Professor at the University of Wisconsin–Madison and a coauthor and endorser of the Princeton Principles for a Campus Culture of Free Inquiry.