So I asked my class: “What topic would you like to discuss next: Friendship or Affirmative action?” The overwhelming majority voiced their preference for the former. Now, the interesting question is: Why? Since most of my students are white, one thought might be that most are racists and did not want to here anything about the demands of justice with regard to the wrongs committed in the past and what is owed to those who have been wronged. Somehow, I do not think that this is the explanation.
Another explanation related to the one that I have just offered is that since I am a black, the last thing that most of my white students wanted was yet another upbraiding about how blacks have been the victims of injustices on the part of whites. This is not altogether out of the question, since students do not know my views; and it would not be implausible, given the climate of campuses nowadays, to suppose that a black professor must certainly be in favor of affirmative action. After all, a great many white professors profess to be in favor of affirmative action. So surely a black professor must be. Well, I do not think that this explanation is quite right, either.
The explanation that I shall offer for the preference of the topic of friendship over the topic of affirmative action is related to the first two in only a roundabout way.
The topic of affirmative action is a morally loaded subject, especially in university circles; and that typically precludes honest discussion of the sort that John Stuart Mill envisioned. Even if no one quite says it outright, there is often lots and lots of innuendo to the effect that anyone who opposes affirmative action harbors racist sentiments. And professors typically do nothing at all to dissuade students from entertaining such a view.
Friendship, by contrast, is a morally rich subject, but not a morally loaded one. People can differ sharply about friendship without implying that the other is morally unfit in someway. Inspiring thought and deep commitments can be expressed without being morally derisive of others.
A rich discussion of affirmative action is invariably combative; a rich discussion of friendship is more apt to be nurturing than not.
It is no secret that, under the guise of open discussion, classrooms in the university have in many cases become something akin to centers of indoctrination. It is easy to miss this because calling someone a racist travels under the banner of free speech.
What is ignored is that the charge of racism has great rhetorical force; and only a most eloquent speaker is likely to be able to diffuse its force. As a result, the charge of racism tends to be rather effective in silence people. The charge of racism, whether just or not, amounts to a form of rhetorical coercion.
This, I think, lies at the heart of why so many students voiced a preference for the topic of friendship over that of affirmative action.
With the topic of friendship, students can freely express their differences and make mistakes in articulating their view without having to worry about being the object of what I have called rhetorical coercion. And that can be a genuine learning experience.
Rhetorical coercion, by contrast, does not make for a genuine learning experience, however much note taking there might be. Instead, rhetorical coercion occasions masterful memorization and regurgitation. With these, we have only the appearance of learning—as opposed to genuine learning.
Again, with affirmative action there are only two relevant positions that a person can take: for or against. Thus, the battle lines get drawn very quickly. With friendship, on the other, there is a multitude of very interesting positions to be taken; and there are not really any battle lines. Even if someone were to advance the view that friendship is very much overrated, this would not give rise to a sort of moral battle. Many would no doubt disagree. Just so, no one would resort to name calling.
My view, then, is that my students simply wanted to avoid a classroom experience that occasioned rhetorical coercion.
I can imagine someone intoning that I would most certainly not tolerate in the classroom a person defending the views of Nazism, and then noting that I would use all the rhetorical coercive force in my power to silence the person. Well, that statement seems fair enough.
Still, I would have thought the appropriate parallel to Nazism is slavery ideology—and not the view that affirmative action is wrong. Perhaps my imagination is a tad too active, but I can offhand think of numerous morally significant differences between someone who opposes affirmative action and someone who embraces slavery ideology. I shall mention just one of them.
To believe in slavery ideology is to hold that one group of people should be subordinate to another. Merely being opposed to affirmative action, however, entails nothing whatsoever of this sort.
There are indeed views not to be tolerated in the classroom. Committed opposition to affirmative action, however, is a very long ways from falling into the category of being one such view. Unfortunately, one would not necessarily know that from some of the rhetoric, encouraged or licensed by professors, that takes place in campus classrooms.
Coercive rhetoric? The has become an art form in the classroom. Here is another example. Many of my non-religious colleagues make a point of speaking disparagingly about religion. Why they almost make a feast out of doing so. I am quite religious, as the saying goes. Yet, I barely utter a word about the importance of religion to my students. Allowing that both sides take themselves to be right, which approach constitutes being more open-minded? You tell me.
It might be worth concluding this blog-entry by noting that I have not said a single word about what my view is regarding affirmative action or, for that matter, friendship. But then this essay was never meant to be an excuse to take a stand on either issue, especially the first one.