Francis Forde
Dear Professor Flynn
I am contacting you in regard to your manuscript “In Defense of Free Speech: The University as Censor.” [We] believe that its publication, in particular in the United Kingdom, would raise serious concerns. By the nature of its subject matter, the work addresses sensitive topics of race, religion, and gender. The challenging manner in which you handle these topics as author, particularly at the beginning of the work, whilst no doubt editorially powerful, increase the sensitivity and the risk of reaction and legal challenge. As a result, we have taken external legal advice on the contents of the manuscript [. . . and have] taken the decision to not publish your manuscript. (p. ix; shortened for the sake of brevity).
This was the email received by University of Otago professor James Flynn regarding his soon-to-be-published manuscript. Its tone demonstrates how woefully narrow the Overton window has become. Following Flynn’s attempt to analyse how acceptable discourse has changed over the last century, he soon found that his book had been made the subject of a palpable irony. The text, which presents a principled defence of open dialogue within academia, had found itself among a string of works and ideas seen as too blasphemous to print.
Due to the prominence of online mobs, whose wokeness renders them unafraid to drive businesses off a cliff, Flynn’s book had become too risky to publish. Of course, not being able to pass by such an opportunity, Flynn was able to capitalise on the comedic situation put before him. After finding a publisher who would not kneel to the minority opinion, he went on to publish this text under the new title: A Book Too Risky To Publish: Free Speech And Universities.
Flynn’s latest work embarks on a personal, yet informative journey. It begins with a reflection on the valued testimony of John Stuart Mill, who saw free speech as the cornerstone of intellectual progress and democracy. It then pulls us in on a more personal level. We are drawn along as Flynn reflects on his time as a young university student and then as an academic in America. It is this early part of the book that I think many readers will find most valuable.
For someone like me, who lives in a right-of-centre echo chamber, Flynn performs the invaluable task of describing many cases of twentieth-century censorship. Most of these show progressive academics being pilloried at the hands of a conservative majority. In recounting all of this, he hopes that “the hearts of conservatives burn with shame when they think of those times, just as mine [burns] with shame when I think of today” (p.81)
Fired, denounced, demoted, or threatened into obscurity. All tactics used by conservatives to prohibit communist activities, stop criticism of child labour, or hush talks of nationalising utilities. Such was the sad reality of left-wing academic repression throughout much of the twentieth century. As I came to discover through reading Flynn, I had been left in the dark regarding much of this. I consider it to be a blunder on the part of conservative media heads for failing to convey this history.
What Flynn does with such grace throughout this book is to demonstrate the importance of being exposed to unorthodox ideas proposed in earnest by those who actually hold them. Flynn captures this sentiment aptly when he admits “if I had not read ‘discredited’ scholars, I would still have a half-educated mind” (p. 50). Sadly, efforts to embody this ethos within Universities, particularly in the United States, are becoming increasingly constrained. Flynn spends some considerable time documenting this trend, pointing towards the loud and vocal activist groups which harangue lecturers and guest speakers who entertain questions that they consider beyond the pale.
One need not rack one’s brains for long before arriving at a rough outline of who would make up this deplorable group of academics. Among its ranks, you would of course find those who discuss genetic contributions to differences in IQ, people who critique Black Studies or Women’s Studies departments, those who are critical of affirmative action, people who assert that the pay gap is primarily not due to discrimination, and those who argue that disparities in violent crime and educational achievement cannot simply be explained by racism.
When reading about the level of hostility that activist groups bring to the stage, you may at first be sceptical as to how commonplace such practices really are. Anticipating this, Flynn has usefully interspersed the relevant data depicting the state of student opinion about how others should be allowed to act. For example, Flynn cites a nationwide US study which found that among students at four-year colleges, 51% believe that it is acceptable for a group of students to shout down a speaker whose ideas they disagree with. While this feeling is more common among democrats, the data testify that conservatives are no darlings either.
Yet, as detrimental as these predominantly student-led cancelling practices may be, there is a more poignant trend emerging. This is the development of ‘Walden codes’ among the faculty themselves. Walden codes are institutionalised sanctions that aim to restrict free speech. They are present, or so Flynn claims, within Sociology, Anthropology, Philosophy, Psychology, Education, and Politics (among others). As Flynn discusses, each harbours its own restrictions and biases around what ideas are welcomed within the field. Of course, one must bear in mind Flynn’s declaration that his account of things does not come from a rigorous academic study. Instead, it stems from his sixty-year career spanning seven Universities, and from what he finds within the scholarly journals of which he is a frequent reader. So, while he appears to be quite a reliable source for assessing such matters, one should be sure to read along with a sceptic’s eye.
Fortunately, for those of us who exhaust ourselves by lapping up news about the culture wars, Flynn provides relief in the form of actionable steps for improving the quality of our discourse. More importantly, he discusses what can be done to disarm those who train the teachers that educate our young, and who cultivate in them a post-modernist view of the world. I am hesitant to reveal the many recommendations that Flynn provides, as without the surrounding context, they may seem unneeded or excessive. So instead, I will leave it to you to buy the book, and to see why he makes the recommendations he does. And since I have only provided a narrow view of what is discussed, you will be delighted to find how comprehensive and broad in scope Flynn’s analysis actually is.
Although the price is rather hefty ($67 from Unibooks.co.nz), I think it is important to support such a prestigious New Zealand academic. Especially one who is willing to risk his credibility by encouraging more dialogue around topics that are becoming less and less tolerable. And of course, your money will not be wasted. In return, you will gain some deep insight into what has gone wrong within academia from a man who has spent much of his time wandering its halls.
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