By Jonathan Haidt
Friday, December 29, 2017
Note: This piece is an edited version of Jonathan
Haidt’s Wriston Lecture for the Manhattan Institute, delivered on November 15.
It originally appeared at City Journal.
What is happening to our country, and our universities?
It sometimes seems that everything is coming apart. To understand why, I have
found it helpful to think about an idea from cosmology called “the fine-tuned
universe.” There are around 20 fundamental constants in physics — things like
the speed of light, Newton’s gravitational constant, and the charge of an
electron. In the weird world of cosmology, these are constants throughout our universe, but it is thought that
some of them could be set to different values in other universes. As physicists have begun to understand our
universe, they have noticed that many of these physical constants seem to be
set just right to allow matter to condense and life to get started.
For a few of these constants, if they were just 1 or 2
percent higher or lower, matter would have never condensed after the big bang.
There would have been no stars, no planets, no life. As Stephen Hawking put it,
“the remarkable fact is that the values of these numbers seem to have been very
finely adjusted to make possible the development of life.”
Some have suggested that this fine-tuning might be
evidence for the existence of God. This would be a deist conception of God, of
the sort that Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and most of the Founding Fathers
believed in: a God who set up the universe like a giant clock, with exactly the right springs and gears, and
then set it in motion. I myself am not taking fine-tuning as evidence of God.
I’m simply using it as a way to open this lecture. I want to lift your
attention up into the cosmos and put you into a mindset that is awestruck at
our improbability. And if I have succeeded in doing that, then I’d like you to
take that same mindset and apply it to the existence of our improbable country.
I’d like you to consider an idea that I’ll call “the
fine-tuned liberal democracy.” It begins by looking backward a few million
generations and tracing our ancestry, from tree-dwelling apes to land-dwelling
apes, to upright-walking apes whose hands were freed up for tool use, to
larger-brained hominids who made weapons as well as tools, and then finally to homo sapiens, who painted cave walls and
painted their faces and danced around campfires and worshipped gods and
murdered each other in large numbers.
When we look back at the ways our ancestors lived,
there’s no getting around it: we are tribal primates. We are exquisitely
designed and adapted by evolution for life in small societies with intense,
animistic religion and violent intergroup conflict over territory. We love
tribal living so much that we invented sports, fraternities, street gangs, fan
clubs, and tattoos. Tribalism is in our hearts and minds. We’ll never stamp it
out entirely, but we can minimize its effects because we are a behaviorally
flexible species. We can live in many different ways, from egalitarian
hunter-gatherer groups of 50 individuals to feudal hierarchies binding together
millions. And in the last two centuries, a lot of us have lived in large,
multi-ethnic secular liberal democracies. So clearly that is possible. But how much margin of error do we have in
such societies?
Here is the fine-tuned liberal democracy hypothesis: As
tribal primates, human beings are unsuited for life in large, diverse secular
democracies, unless you get certain
settings finely adjusted to make possible the development of stable political
life. This seems to be what the Founding Fathers believed. Jefferson, Madison,
and the rest of those 18th-century deists clearly did think that designing a constitution was like designing a giant
clock, a clock that might run forever if they chose the right springs and
gears.
Thankfully, our Founders were good psychologists. They
knew that we are not angels; they knew that we are tribal creatures. As Madison
wrote in Federalist 10: “the latent
causes of faction are thus sown in the nature of man.” Our Founders were also
good historians; they were well aware of Plato’s belief that democracy is the
second-worst form of government because it inevitably decays into tyranny.
Madison wrote in Federalist 10 about
pure or direct democracies, which he said are quickly consumed by the passions
of the majority: “such democracies have ever been spectacles of turbulence and
contention . . . and have in general been as short in their lives as they have
been violent in their deaths.”
So what did the Founders do? They built in safeguards
against runaway factionalism, such as the division of powers among the three
branches, and an elaborate series of checks and balances. But they also knew
that they had to train future generations of clock mechanics. They were
creating a new kind of republic, which would demand far more maturity from its
citizens than was needed in nations ruled by a king or other Leviathan.
Here is the education expert E. D. Hirsch, on the
founding of our nation (from The Making
of Americans):
The history of tribal and racial
hatred is the history and prehistory of humankind. . . . The American
experiment, which now seems so natural to us, is a thoroughly artificial device
designed to counterbalance the natural impulses of group suspicions and
hatreds. . . . This vast, artificial, trans-tribal construct is what our
Founders aimed to achieve. And they understood that it can be achieved
effectively only by intelligent schooling.
Thomas Jefferson wrote, in 1789, that “wherever the
people are well informed they can be trusted with their own government”; he
backed up that claim by founding the University of Virginia, about which he
wrote, in 1820: “This institution will be based on the illimitable freedom of
the human mind. For here we are not afraid to follow the truth wherever it may
lead, nor to tolerate any error as long as reason is left free to combat it.”
So, how are we doing, as the inheritors of the clock? Are
we maintaining it well? If Madison visited Washington, D.C., today, he’d find that
our government is divided into two all-consuming factions, which cut right down
the middle of each of the three branches, uniting the three red half-branches
against the three blue half-branches, with no branch serving the original
function as he had envisioned.
And how are we doing at training clock mechanics? What
would Jefferson say if he were to take a tour of America’s most prestigious
universities in 2017? What would he think about safe spaces, microaggressions,
trigger warnings, bias response teams, and the climate of fearfulness,
intimidation, and conflict that is now so prevalent on campus? But first, let’s
ask: How did we mess things up so badly?
***
I’ve been studying political polarization since 2007.
Data from Gallup and Pew show steadily rising polarization since the 1990s,
whether you ask people how much they dislike the other side, how much they
think the other side is a threat to the country, or how upset they’d be if
their child married someone from the other side.
Why do we hate and fear each other so much more than we
used to as recently as the early 1990s? The political scientist Sam Abrams and
I wrote an essay in 2015, listing ten causes. I won’t describe them all, but
I’ll give you a unifying idea, another metaphor from physics: Keep your eye on
the balance between centrifugal and centripetal forces. Imagine three kids
making a human chain with their arms, and one kid has his free hand wrapped
around a pole. The kids start running around in a circle, around the pole,
faster and faster. The centrifugal force increases. That’s the force pulling
outward as the human centrifuge speeds up. But at the same time, the kids
strengthen their grip. That’s the centripetal force, pulling them inward along
the chain of their arms. Eventually the centrifugal force exceeds the
centripetal force and their hands slip. The chain breaks. This, I believe, is
what is happening to our country. I’ll briefly mention five of the trends that
Abrams and I identified, all of which can be seen as increasing centrifugal
forces or weakening centripetal forces.
External enemies:
Fighting and winning two world wars, followed by the Cold War, had an enormous
unifying effect. The Vietnam War was different, but in general, war is the
strongest known centripetal force. Since 1989, we have had no unifying common
enemy.
The media:
Newspapers in the early days of the republic were partisan and often quite
nasty. But with the advent of television in the mid 20th century, America
experienced something unusual: The media was a gigantic centripetal force.
Americans got much of their news from three television networks, which were
regulated and required to show political balance. That couldn’t last, and it
began to change in the 1980s with the advent of cable TV and narrowcasting, followed
by the Internet in the 1990s and social media in the 2000s. Now we are drowning
in outrage stories, very high-quality outrage stories, often supported by
horrifying video clips. Social media is turning out to be a gigantic
centrifugal force.
Immigration and
diversity: This one is complicated and politically fraught. Let me be clear
that I think immigration and diversity are good things, overall. The economists
seem to agree that immigration brings large economic benefits. The complete
dominance of America in Nobel prizes, music, and the arts, and now the
technology sector, would not have happened if we had not been open to
immigrants. But as a social psychologist, I must point out that immigration and
diversity have many sociological
effects, some of which are negative. The main one is that they reduce social
capital — the bonds of trust that exist between individuals. The political
scientist Robert Putnam found this in a paper titled “E Pluribus Unum,” in
which he followed his data to a conclusion he clearly did not relish: “In the
short run, immigration and ethnic diversity tend to reduce social solidarity
and social capital. New evidence from the US suggests that in ethnically
diverse neighborhoods residents of all races tend to ‘hunker down.’ Trust (even
of one’s own race) is lower, altruism and community cooperation rarer, friends
fewer.”
In short, despite its other benefits, diversity is a
centrifugal force, something the Founders were well aware of. In Federalist 2, John Jay wrote that we
should count it as a blessing that America possessed “one united people — a
people descended from the same ancestors, the same language, professing the
same religion.” I repeat that diversity has many good effects too, and I am
grateful that America took in my grandparents from Russia and Poland, and my
wife’s parents from Korea. But Putnam’s findings make it clear that those who
want more diversity should be even more
attentive to strengthening centripetal forces.
The final two causes I will mention are likely to arouse
the most disagreement, because these are the two where I blame specific
parties, specific sides. They are: the Republicans in Washington, and the Left
on campus. Both have strengthened the centrifugal forces that are now tearing
us apart.
The more radical
Republican Party: When the Democrats ran the House of Representatives for
almost all of six decades, before 1995, they did not treat the Republican
minority particularly well. So I can understand Newt Gingrich’s desire for
revenge when he took over as speaker of the House in 1995. But many of the
changes he made polarized the Congress, made bipartisan cooperation more
difficult, and took us into a new era of outrage and conflict in Washington.
One change stands out to me, speaking as a social psychologist: He changed the
legislative calendar so that all business was done Tuesday through Thursday,
and he encouraged his incoming freshmen not
to move to the District. He did not want
them to develop personal friendships with Democrats. He did not want their spouses to serve on the same
charitable boards. But personal relationships among legislators and their
families in Washington had long been a massive centripetal force. Gingrich
deliberately weakened it.
And this all happened along with the rise of Fox News.
Many political scientists have noted that Fox News and the right-wing media
ecosystem had an effect on the Republican party that is unlike anything that
happened on the left. It rewards more extreme statements, more grandstanding,
more outrage. Many people will point out that the media leans left overall, and
that the Democrats did some polarizing things, too. Fair enough. But it is
clear that Gingrich set out to create a more partisan, zero-sum Congress, and
he succeeded. This more combative culture then filtered up to the Senate, and
out to the rest of the Republican party.
The new identity
politics of the Left: Jonathan Rauch offers a simple definition of identity
politics: a “political mobilization organized around group characteristics such
as race, gender, and sexuality, as opposed to party, ideology, or pecuniary
interest.” Rauch then adds: “In America, this sort of mobilization is not new,
unusual, unAmerican, illegitimate, nefarious, or particularly leftwing.” This
definition makes it easy for us to identify two kinds of identity politics: the
good kind is that which, in the long run, is a centripetal force. The bad kind
is that which, in the long run, is a centrifugal force.
***
Injustice is centrifugal. It destroys trust and causes
righteous anger. Institutionalized racism bakes injustice into the system and
plants the seeds of an eventual explosion. When slavery was written into the
Constitution, it set us up for the greatest explosion of our history. It was a
necessary explosion, but we didn’t manage the healing process well in the
Reconstruction era. When Jim Crow was written into southern laws, it led to
another period of necessary explosions, in the 1960s.
The civil-rights struggle was indeed identity politics,
but it was an effort to fix a mistake, to make us better and stronger as a
nation. Martin Luther King’s rhetoric made it clear that this was a campaign to
create conditions that would allow national reconciliation. He drew on the
moral resources of the American civil religion to activate our shared identity
and values: “When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of
the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a
promissory note.” And: “I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in
the American dream. I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live
out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that all men are created equal.’”
Of course, some people saw the civil-rights movement as
divisive, or centrifugal. But King’s speech is among the most famous in
American history precisely because it
framed our greatest moral failing as an opportunity for centripetal redemption.
This is what I’m calling the good kind of identity
politics.
Let us contrast King’s identity politics with the version
taught in universities today. There is a new variant that has swept through the
academy in the last five years. It is called intersectionality. The term and
concept were presented in a 1989 essay by Kimberlé Crenshaw, a law professor at
UCLA, who made the very reasonable point that a black woman’s experience in
America is not captured by the summation of the black experience and the female
experience. She analyzed a legal case in which black women were victims of
discrimination at General Motors, even when the company could show that it
hired plenty of blacks (in factory jobs dominated by men), and it hired plenty
of women (in clerical jobs dominated by whites). So even though GM was found
not guilty of discriminating against blacks or women, it ended up hiring hardly
any black women. This is an excellent argument. What academic could oppose the
claim that when analyzing a complex system, we must look at interaction
effects, not just main effects?
But what happens when young people study
intersectionality? In some majors, it’s woven into many courses. Students
memorize diagrams showing matrices of privilege and oppression. It’s not just
white privilege causing black oppression, and male privilege causing female
oppression; its heterosexual vs. LGBTQ, able-bodied vs. disabled; young vs. old,
attractive vs. unattractive, even fertile vs. infertile. Anything that a group
has that is good or valued is seen as a kind of privilege, which causes a kind
of oppression in those who don’t have it. A funny thing happens when you take
young human beings, whose minds evolved for tribal warfare and us/them
thinking, and you fill those minds full of binary dimensions. You tell them
that one side of each binary is good and the other is bad. You turn on their
ancient tribal circuits, preparing them for battle. Many students find it
thrilling; it floods them with a sense of meaning and purpose.
And here’s the strategically brilliant move made by
intersectionality: All of the binary dimensions of oppression are said to be
interlocking and overlapping. America is said to be one giant matrix of
oppression, and its victims cannot fight their battles separately. They must
all come together to fight their common enemy, the group that sits at the top
of the pyramid of oppression: the straight, white, cis-gendered, able-bodied
Christian or Jewish or possibly atheist male. This is why a perceived slight
against one victim group calls forth protest from all victim groups. This is
why so many campus groups now align against Israel. Intersectionality is like
NATO for social-justice activists.
This means that on any campus where intersectionality
thrives, conflict will be eternal, because no campus can eliminate all offense,
all microaggressions, and all misunderstandings. This is why the use of
shout-downs, intimidation, and even violence in response to words and ideas is
most common at our most progressive universities, in the most progressive
regions of the country. It’s schools such as Yale, Brown, and Middlebury in New
England, and U.C. Berkeley, Evergreen, and Reed on the West Coast. Are those
the places where oppression is worst, or are they the places where this new way
of thinking is most widespread?
Let me remind you of the educational vision of the
Founders, by way of E. D. Hirsch: “The American experiment . . . is a
thoroughly artificial device designed to counterbalance the natural impulses of
group suspicions and hatreds. . . . This vast, artificial, trans-tribal
construct is what our Founders aimed to achieve.”
Intersectionality aims for the exact opposite: an
inflaming of tribal suspicions and hatreds, in order to stimulate anger and
activism in students, in order to recruit them as fighters for the political
mission of the professor. The identity politics taught on campus today is
entirely different from that of Martin Luther King. It rejects America and
American values. It does not speak of forgiveness or reconciliation. It is a
massive centrifugal force, which is now seeping down into high schools,
especially progressive private schools.
Today’s identity politics has another interesting
feature: It teaches students to think in a way antithetical to what a
liberal-arts education should do. When I was at Yale in the 1980s, I was given
so many tools for understanding the world. By the time I graduated, I could think
about things as a Utilitarian or a Kantian, as a Freudian or a behaviorist, as
a computer scientist or a humanist. I was given many lenses to apply to any one
situation. But nowadays, students who major in departments that prioritize
social justice over the disinterested pursuit of truth are given just one lens
— power — and told to apply it to all situations. Everything is about power.
Every situation is to be analyzed in terms of the bad people acting to preserve
their power and privilege over the good people. This is not an education. This
is induction into a cult, a fundamentalist religion, a paranoid worldview that
separates people from each other and sends them down the road to alienation,
anxiety, and intellectual impotence.
Here is how one young queer activist described the cult.
The essay is titled “‘Everything
is Problematic’: My journey into the center of a dark political world, and how
I escaped.” The author identifies four features of the culture: dogmatism,
groupthink, a crusader mentality, and anti-intellectualism. Of greatest
relevance to our exploration of tribalism, he writes: “Thinking this way
quickly divides the world into an ingroup and an outgroup — believers and
heathens, the righteous and the wrong-teous. . . . Every minor heresy inches
you further away from the group. When I was part of groups like this, everyone
was on exactly the same page about a suspiciously large range of issues.
Internal disagreement was rare.”
Can you imagine a culture that is more antithetical to
the mission of a university? Can you believe that many universities offer
dozens of courses that promote this way of thinking? Some are even requiring
that all students take such a course.
Let us return to Jefferson’s vision: “For here we are not
afraid to follow the truth wherever it may lead, nor to tolerate any error as
long as reason is left free to combat it.” If Jefferson were to return today
and tour our nation’s top universities, he would be shocked at the culture of
fear, the prevalence of unchallenged error, and the shackles placed on reason.
***
Now that I have thoroughly depressed you, let me end with
a few rays of hope and some thoughts about what can be done. I began this
lecture with a discussion of the fine-tuned liberal democracy, which is the
hypothesis that human beings are unsuited for life in large diverse secular
democracies, unless we can get
certain settings finely adjusted. I think this hypothesis is true, and I have
tried to show that we have stumbled into some very bad settings. I am
pessimistic about our future, but let me state clearly that I have low confidence in my pessimism.
It has always been wrong to bet
against America, and it is probably wrong to do so now. My libertarian friends
constantly remind me that people are resourceful; when problems get more
severe, people get more inventive, and that might be happening to us right now.
If you want hope, you need only put this quotation up on your bathroom mirror: “We
cannot absolutely prove that those are in error who tell us that society has
reached a turning point, that we have seen our best days. But so said all
before us, and with just as much apparent reason. . . . On what principle is it
that, when we see nothing but improvement behind us, we are to expect nothing
but deterioration before us?”
That was written by the British historian Thomas
Babington Macauley in 1830. It is probably still true today. And if you want
more hope, let me tell you why I think things are going to start to improve on
university campuses, beginning in the fall of 2018: because as things get worse
on campus, more people are beginning to stand up, and more people are searching
for solutions. Some college presidents are starting to stand up. They all know
they are sitting on a powder keg, and they want to defuse it. Also, they are
generally liberal scholars, deeply opposed to illiberalism. Carol Christ, the
new chancellor of U.C. Berkeley, is clearly mortified by what happened to her
school’s reputation last spring, and she has taken a very strong and public
stand, saying that U.C. Berkeley supports freedom of speech and will pay to
protect speakers. Robert Zimmer, the president of the University of Chicago,
has been consistently excellent. I have spoken with several other college
presidents who would like to stand up publicly but still feel that the
illiberal factions on their campuses are too strong. But if a few more
presidents stand up, and if applications to schools like the University of
Chicago surge this year, then I think we’ll see the floodgates open, possibly
next fall.
Professors are starting to stand up, too. At Heterodox
Academy, we started with 25 members two years ago; now we have over 1,400,
evenly balanced between left and right. We got a big surge of members after the
violence at Middlebury because that was a tipping point. Professors are
overwhelmingly on the left, but they are mostly liberal Left, not illiberal. My
field — social psychology — for example, is quite sane. I have been raising the
alarm about political imbalance and orthodoxy since 2011, and so far nothing
bad has happened to me. I have not been ostracized. The problem on campus — the
intense illiberalism — is concentrated in a few departments that are committed
to political activism. When you look at who signs the petitions denouncing
professors for what they’ve written, or demanding that journal articles be
retracted, it is mostly professors from about seven departments in the
humanities and identity studies. Few professors dared risk the ire of this
illiberal Left back in 2015, but with each new witch hunt, each aggressive
shout-down, more members of the liberal Left are willing to stand up and say:
enough is enough. This is contrary to my values.
And most importantly, some students are beginning to
stand up. At Reed College, one of the most politically orthodox schools in the
country, social-justice activists had been protesting and disrupting the
first-year humanities course for more than a year. They called the course an
act of white supremacy because it focused on dead white authors. They said the
course was traumatizing to non-white students. They brought their signs and
chants into the classroom every day, making it hard for professors to teach or
for students to learn. Many Reed students and professors objected, but none
dared to do so publicly, lest they be called racist themselves. Finally, this
fall, several Asian students stood up, criticized the protesters, and asked
them to stop interfering with their education. Once these students stood up,
support for the protesters collapsed. Many people had been going along out of
fear, rather than conviction.
At Heterodox Academy, we’re tracking these trends very
closely, and we are putting out ideas and tools that help people stand up for
viewpoint diversity and open inquiry. We’ve created a guide to
colleges to steer applicants toward the schools that offer more viewpoint
diversity. We’ve created an online survey that schools can use to assess the
level of orthodoxy and fear on campus, or in any classroom. And most
importantly, we’ve created the OpenMind app. It’s a self-guided app that
teaches students about the value of viewpoint diversity and then trains them to
engage with people who don’t share their values. We have many more initiatives
planned for 2018.
I also want to call your attention to someone else who is
searching for a solution: Lenore Skenazy has been sounding the alarm about what
happens to kids when we raise them like veal, protecting them from everything
including emotional harm. Answer: They ask to be protected in college, too.
They expect that college will be a giant safe space, and that there will always
be a designated adult to resolve their conflicts. Lenore has so many ideas for
how to restore childhood to children — to give them the unsupervised time they
need to become autonomous, self-supervising adults. With seed money from Daniel
Shuchman, she has started a nonprofit called LetGrow.org. I serve on the board,
along with Peter Gray, from Boston College. One of the reasons LetGrow is so
important, and the reason I mention it now, is that unsupervised free play
turns out to be crucial for the development of democratic citizenship. I just
want to read you a few sentences from one of Gray’s articles on the importance
of unsupervised free play:
To play with another person, you
must pay attention to the other person’s needs, not just your own, or the other
person will quit. You must overcome narcissism. You must learn to negotiate in
ways that respect the other person’s ideas, not just yours. [Gray goes on to
describe the way that kids learn about rules, when adults are not present.]
They learn in this way that rules are not fixed by heaven, but are human
contrivances to make life more fun and fair. This is an important lesson; it is
a cornerstone of democracy.
So please do not despair. Be alarmed — the situation is
truly alarming. But most Americans are decent, thoughtful people who don’t want
to give up on their country or its universities. There are many things we can
do to reduce tribalism, strengthen our kids, and repair our universities. We —
the Baby Boomers and Gen Xers who fill this room — we have made a mess of the
clock. Left and Right, Republicans and Democrats. But we can make up for it if
we can come together, admit that we messed up, and change what we are doing to
kids, and to college students. We just might be able to raise a generation of
kids who can care for the clock after all.
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