Last fall, Amy L. Wax, Robert Mundheim Professor of Law at the University of Pennsylvania Law School and Larry Alexander of the University of San Diego Law School co-authored an op-ed entitled “Paying the Price for the Breakdown of the Country’s Bourgeois Culture” [The Philadelphia Inquirer, August 9, 2017]. In their op-ed, they had the audacity to identify and endorse behavioral norms that were collectively endorsed between the end of WWII and the mid-1960s:

Get married before you have children and strive to stay married for their sake. Get the education you need for gainful employment, work hard, and avoid idleness. Go the extra mile for your employer or client. Be a patriot, ready to serve the country. Be neighborly, civic-minded, and charitable. Avoid coarse language in public. Be respectful of authority. Eschew substance abuse and crime.

They went on to argue that these norms “defined a concept of adult responsibility that was a major contributor to the productivity, educational gains, and social coherence of that period.” Immediately after publication, a fire storm ensued. There were letters, petitions, and proclamations from both students and staff at the University of Pennsylvania Law School denouncing Wax’s position as” racist, white supremacist, hate speech, hetereopatriarchial,  xenophobic, etc.” There were demands for her resignation from committees and removal from the classroom. In addition, law students were invited to monitor Wax and to report any “stereotyping and bias” they might experience or perceive to be present.

Finally, in an open letter to the Daily Pennsylvanian, 33 of her colleagues condemned the op-ed and a subsequent interview she gave to the school newspaper. In this letter, her colleagues rejected all of her views and charged her with “sin of praising the 1950s—a decade when racial discrimination was openly practiced and opportunities for women were limited.” Her colleagues offered no counter arguments, no substantive reasoning or explanation as to the error of Wax’s and Alexander’s views.

In a speech delivered on December 12, 2017 at Hillsdale College’s Allan P Kirby, Jr. Center for Constitutional Studies and Citizenship in Washington, D. C., Wax said:

I do not agree with the contention that because a past era is marked by benighted attitudes and practices—attitudes and practices we had acknowledged in our op-ed!—it has nothing to teach us. 

Wax continued:

The reactions to this piece raise the question of how orthodox opinions should be dealt with in academia—and in American society. It is well documented that American universities today, more than ever before, are dominated by academics on the left end of the political spectrum. How should these academics handle opinions that depart, even quite sharply, from their ‘politically correct’ views? The proper response would be to engage in reasoned debate—to attempt to explain, using logic, evidence, facts, and substantive arguments, why those are opinions are wrong. This kind of civil discourse is obviously important at law schools like mine, because law schools are dedicated to teaching students how to think about and argue all sides of question. But academic institutions in general should also be places where people are free to think and reasons about important questions that affect our society and our way of life—something not possible in today’s atmosphere of enforced orthodoxy.

Enforced orthodoxy? Now, that’s a mouthful. And it is perhaps one of the most terrifying academic, political, and social forces today.

Twenty five years ago, I stood outside my community college classroom as my Advanced Composition students exited for the night. As I turned to make my way down the hall to my office, a student stopped me. “I want to ask you what you believe, what your views are,” he said. “What I believe? About what?” I asked. “About anything and everything. I just need to know because I am NOT taking this class again.” His eyes flashed with anger.

I asked him what had happened that had made him so angry and fearful that he would fail and have to repeat this class. He explained that his experience at another university had jaded him and that he simply couldn’t afford to repeat classes. I probed further. “You failed composition? Tell me about that.”

And he did, recounting his research paper in which he argued that military women should not hold combat positions. He explained that he received an F for the paper, which counted for most of his grade. “Let me guess,” I queried, “was your instructor female?” “Why yes,” he said. “And was she a self-professed feminist?” I asked. “Why, yes again,” he said, “how did you know?”

How did I know? Because I had encountered far too many students like him who had not survived professors who held tightly to such enforced orthodoxies.

In deference to another composition instructor and with the knowledge that there are many factors that contribute to a failing grade, I asked a final question, “Did you receive any comments on your writing, any suggestions for improvement?” He looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “Just one: This position is unacceptable.” I attempted to reassure him that I would evaluate him based on the strength of his argument and his supporting evidence, that what I personally believed would not color my assessment of his work, but I could see that he was skeptical, at best, and unconvinced, at worst.

His instructor taught and evaluated according to a code of enforced orthodoxy: there is one acceptable, established, and passing position. Other conflicting positions were wholly unacceptable, regardless of the strength of their logic and evidence.

Like Wax’s 33 colleagues who instructed students to report her heresies, this instructor may have believed that she was protecting her students from harmful, false positions. But Wax contends–and I agree–that “Students need the opposite of protection from diverse arguments and points of view. They need exposure to them. This exposure will teach them how to think” and that “Democracy thrives on talk and debate, and it is not for the faint of heart. . . We should be teaching our young people to get used to these things, but instead we are teaching them the opposite.”

Enforced orthodoxy shuts down debate. It excludes and shuns unorthodox ideas. Its persistent attempts to protect individuals from all that is incorrect are tragically undemocratic and even more tragically unethical. We are so weak, so faint of heart these days that we demand safe spaces and cry foul at the first hint of something or someone we may not like. In truth, we are simply not in shape to face encounters with positions contrary to our own. Given few opportunities to practice such confrontations, we are flabby, unskilled, and destined to hang out in the locker room with like-minded folks. Only the fit will cry, “Put me in, coach!” Sadly, the unfit grossly outnumber the fit in college classrooms, in politics, and in general society.

In her closing words, Wax offers a stern warning:

Disliking, avoiding, and shunning people who don’t share our politics is not good for our country. . . It’s possible that people we disagree with have something to offer, something to contribute, something to teach us. We ignore this peril.

Civil discourse, reasoned debates, substantive arguments? Listening to and learning from those with whom we disagree? Aren’t these precisely the types of opportunities that we should expect institutions of higher education and governments to offer their students and citizens? In a season of enforced orthodoxy, however, these opportunities are increasingly rare. Finally, enforced orthodoxy threatens freedom, and this threat, above all, is one that we should not ignore.

Dichotomy: a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different

Dichotomy is really an ugly word. It might as well be a communicable disease or a species of invasive fungi. Like a dry, hacking cough, its ragged edges lacerate the air with each forced breath, again and again and again. Once used to identify conflicting literary themes and management systems, it has wormed its way almost exclusively into the worlds of politics, social media, and news. And it’s killing us.

We have always been, by nature, a people of division, I think. That is, there have always been those who hold fast to one belief, one practice, one system, and those who hold contrasting views, practices, and systems. Google a list of dichotomies, and you’ll find evidence to this truth:

good vs. evil

static vs. dynamic

absolute vs. relative

body vs mind

sacred vs. profane

open vs. closed

The list goes on, testifying to the power of dichotomy, both past and present. We are eager to identify these dichotomies in our classrooms and boardrooms, in how we live and how we govern. I can still recall feeling as though I’d won the lottery when I correctly identified good vs. evil as the dominant dichotomy and theme of a novel we were studying in high school. There was one correct answer (still another dichotomy: right vs. wrong), and I had delivered up the Holy Grail. A trophy for me, and consolation prizes all around for the losers.

Lest you think I will lapse into a defense of relativism or inclusivism (as defined by the current intellectuals and forced onto the collective consciousness), I cannot ignore the rational and absolute parameters of dichotomies. A dichotomy says This, not this. It reasons If A is true/right/good, then B cannot be. A dichotomy argues Choose a side/position/action and reject the opposing side/position/action. And within these parameters, even parameters for those who advocate You can have your truth, and I can have mine, there are those who reject others who argue My truth is THE truth, and yours is not. Their inclusive position–ironically but logically–excludes those who do not share their claims, and the parameters of dichotomy remain intact.

But it’s not the intellectual or philosophical properties or parameters of dichotomies I fear. It’s our physical, emotional, and spiritual responses to them that frightens the bejesus out of me and threatens to push me over the precipice of despair and futility into abject hopelessness. There is a necessary and life-giving force in dichotomies. In the tension between one side and another, we may give birth to clarified, qualified ideas and positions. That is, tension may breed productive struggle, which may in turn, result in something new and better than either original idea or position. In some occasions, compromise may rise, like a phoenix, from the ashes of this tension.

Sadly, may is the conditional word here. And even more sadly, we see little evidence of this type of phoenix rising from political, social, economic, educational, or cultural ashes today. When we stand solidly on one side of a dichotomous issue, there appear to be more of us who fail to consider the potential of productive struggle and choose instead to stand at the edge of the chasm that separates us from our foes, armed and eager for the battle. Our cause eclipses our civility and humility. We see an enemy that bears no resemblance to ourselves or to any decent, thinking individual for that matter. Then, armed with a cause and facing an evil enemy, we believe we are more than justified to use any means to win, to tip the dichotomy successfully and permanently towards our side. In this world of dichotomy, the end always justifies the means, and Machiavelli, a willing flag bearer, confidently leads the way forward.

So when we face our enemies, we take courage in the belief that we do not have to listen to them, do not have to respect them, and, above all, do not have to acknowledge any part of who they are or what they believe as legitimate and worthy of consideration. Dichotomies often bring out the adolescent in us. We say or write snarky things about our enemies–behind their backs or to their face. We wage smear campaigns, using whatever resources we can muster. We take heart in our conviction that it is all about me because, quite simply, we choose to believe that it is all about me. And as we wield the sword of righteous indignation, we take no prisoners.

What has happened to us? How have we become so entrenched in our current dichotomies (conservative/liberal; absolute/relative; open/closed) that we actually prefer to hunker down and plan the next attack rather than pull ourselves from the trenches and walk in an attitude of cooperation and humility towards our enemies? When did we become such fascists with such searing passion to suppress opposition?

I have spent the better part of my life trying to help students look critically at opposing ideas and positions, in hopes that they could ultimately and wisely discern which side of the dichotomy they would assume. I have spent an equal amount of time teaching students how to respectfully disagree with their opponents. Once, I actually put my career on the line when I advocated to a group of educators that there would always be dichotomies made up of exclusive sides and that our role as educators was to help students understand these sides while living respectfully and compassionately with those on other sides. On the surface, this seems like an educationally and morally responsible thing to advocate. But dichotomies will be dichotomies, and the other side of this one? Well, this is the side that argues that it is not enough to help students understand differing views. This is the side that insists that we teach students to accept and live according to the right view. And the right view, of course, is the view of whomever is in power or believes that they should be in power.

Stalemate is a real and probable consequence in this Season of Dichotomies. In demonizing our opponents and their ideas, we can find no way productively forward. So, day after day, our airwaves are filled with name-calling and dire predictions of what the world will become if one side or the other wins. Night after night, we are whipped into frenzies as political, social, and cultural battles rage brightly. Exhausted, we drag ourselves into sitcoms or funny cat videos, hoping to entertain ourselves into oblivion. Oblivion at least for one night, for we know it will all begin with a vengeance again tomorrow.

Honestly, I don’t believe we have reached stalemate because of the strength of our opposing views but more so because of our inability and unwillingness to respond to these views with civility and compassion. There will be dichotomies as long as there are humans to identify and use them. This is not–and really should not be–the issue. The issue is how we choose to respond to them. Clearly, there are things worth defending and fighting for, and we have countless historical examples to prove this. Few will argue that we should not have fought in response to Hitler’s Final Solution. And even fewer will argue that Hitler’s truth–that all Jews were vermin and therefore should be exterminated–was as legitimate as any other truth.

If we have exhausted all attempts at genuine understanding, at respectful disagreement, and at compromise, then there are times when we must fight. Thankfully, there have been more times when we could–and did–choose other responses to conflict. Regrettably, we seem to have forgotten this.

Biologist, paleontologist and scientific historian Stephen Jay Gould writes:

I strongly reject any conceptual scheme that places our options on a line, and holds that the only alternative to a pair of extreme positions lies somewhere between them. More fruitful perspectives often require that we step off the line to a site outside the dichotomy.

Stepping off the line to a site outside the dichotomy? For some dichotomies, this is certainly an idea worthy of consideration. There are may instances when thinking outside the box or off the line has resulted in satisfying and lasting solutions. And for those dichotomies characterized by more extreme positions? I think we could take some instruction from novelist Tom Robbins who writes:

There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who believe there are two kinds of people in this world and those who are smart enough to know better. [Still Life with Woodpecker]

There is something to be said about being smart enough to know that, at our core and certainly in the eyes of our Maker, we are brothers and sisters who share common struggles, common joy and pain, and a common world. If we are smart enough to know this, surely in response to our shared humanity, we should be smart enough to treat each other as we would like to be treated. And if we are smart enough to know this, certainly we should never forget that the opposing ideas we hold have their very humble beginnings in matter, in human cells that look far more alike than different under a microscope.

In the end, we can choose to let our response to dichotomies refine us or kill us. I’m all for responding in such ways that refine us. We can start by affirming our opponents as fellow human beings and by genuinely seeking to understand their views. Then, we can respond with civility and earnest empathy, even as we engage in the difficult and necessary work regarding our political, social, cultural, and philosophical differences.

And as for Machiavelli? We simply have to fire him as our flag bearer and castigate him for a view which we must abandon. In this Season of Dichotomies, the end should never justify the means.