It's an understatement to say that it's been difficult to be in the academy in this period. Teaching and learning through Covid, the push from some quarters to redefine the academic mission away from open inquiry pursued through the tools of one's discipline and toward a particular set of social justice goals, and then the creeping incivility about it all, introduced new forms of stress into our lives. For those of us whose work puts us squarely in the heart of the culture wars, as mine does, the situation has been especially difficult as we've been subject to—you know the drill—censorship and de-platforming, cancelation and, in some famous cases—see, e.g., Kathleen Stock and Carole Hooven—even separation.
I'm relatively privileged because even as I have and continue to be subject to these strategies, my institutions—Duke University and the divisions of which I'm a part, including Duke Law School—have consistently stood by my right to do my work. Even still, things were bad enough at certain points that I was checking my pension balance to see if there was a realistic possibility of stepping out. There wasn't, but regardless, it shouldn't be this way.
No one person or political faction—regardless of whether they're on the left or the right—should have the power to turn a university, a department, or a classroom into a place where the important questions of the day can't be discussed in an honest way. Moreover, academic freedom, intellectual engagement, and civil discourse aren't values owned by conservatives or liberals; they're among the defining features of a modern university without which its societal importance is difficult to justify.
