Stepping into the spotlight of infamy, Texas A&M now stands at the precipice of undesired notoriety. Through the act of official censorship, it treads a path that no academic institution should venture as institutions of high acclaim like Texas A&M were built on pillars of intellectual progress and groundbreaking research.
A distressing incident took place in March, making this starkly evident. Texas A&M's distinguished opioid researcher, Professor Joy Alonzo, provided a lecture to the University of Texas Medical Branch. Within mere hours, Lt. Gov Dan Patrick was apprised of her actions.
On the day of Professor Alonzo's lecture, Chancellor John Sharp of Texas A&M documented an email to Lt. Gov Patrick. As per the records procured by the Texas Tribune, the written communication suggested that Professor Alonzo had been issued an administrative suspension, pending an inquiry that could lead to her dismissal. Alonzo's alleged misdemeanour? She committed the truth. She intimated that Patrick’s office had been against crucial initiatives aimed at combating opioids, measures that could potentially preserve innumerable lives.
In a familiar vein, Kathleen McElroy, a long-serving editor at the New York Times and an African-American, experienced a similar predicament. Post-acceptance of tenure and the role of director at Texas A&M’s new journalism program, she had her tenure retracted amidst donor consternation relating to her prior work on diversity and inclusion.
Ironically, people like Patrick, frequently found denouncing so-called “woke censorship,” have a central role in these proceedings. The frequent silencing of conservative speakers by student protests is an issue that warrants attention, as academic institutions should be havens of free thought and discourse. However, the punitive actions taken by authorities against educational figureheads for alleged ideological infractions is a matter of grave concern.
The explicit interference of university administrators and political figures poses a severe threat to the credibility of academic institutions. It predictably makes them less appealing to both existing and prospective members of staff. Why would an academic aspire to a tenured post if the role hinges on the unpredictable whim of unnamed donors? Moreover, who would dare to speak candidly in a lecture, knowing that it could lead to discussion of dismissal?
The case of Florida serves as a cautionary tale. Governor Ron DeSantis has been conspicuously trying to impose his ideology on the state’s universities, prompting an exodus of intellectual talent. As a result, open positions garner little interest, and remaining faculty start to consider departure as the lesser of two evils. In the end, it’s the students that suffer, being bereft of expert knowledge and academic guidance.
As more states stumble down this detrimental path, they can expect similar negative consequences. It is the fervent hope that they will soon realize why America enjoyed economic and cultural superiority in the previous century: the influx of immigrant populations and the strength of its higher education system. Despite past periods of undue censorship and ideological restriction, the academia in the States has managed to endure. It would be prudent to learn from history before irreversible harm is inflicted on the state of higher education in America.
