A couple of days ago, I overheard a conversation at a nearby table in a restaurant in which one participant said “Colleges and universities shouldn’t be political, they should be focused on the truth.”

It prompted two thoughts. The first, was advice I received during my first year as president, “You need to be political, but you can’t be partisan.” The second is a realization that we have entered an era in which much of our lives are being shaped by the politics of truth.

I was recently interviewed by Daniel Myers, President of Misericordia University, for an upcoming podcast called Higher Edification. Early on, Dan asked my thoughts on the recent escalation of assaults on higher education. I replied that I believe there is a concerted effort to discredit experts and scholars, because they are dedicated to seeking and articulating the truth.

In recent years, we have heard so much about alternate facts, and we have been subjected to a seemingly endless stream of commercial pundits generating infotainment in the guise of expertise. This is the result of contemporary media abandoning the sage advice of Calvin Coolidge: “Editorial policy and news policy must not be influenced by business consideration; business policies must not be affected by editorial programs.”[1]

Alternate facts, are not facts. As Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan noted, “Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not his own facts,”[2] What are we to do with facts and erroneous counterpoints when both are presented as the truth? That is why we need academic scholars. It is their calling to discern and contextualize the truth.

In his landmark speech (and one of my touchstones), The American Scholar, Emerson defined the mission of the scholar:

The office of the scholar is to cheer, to raise, and to guide men by showing them facts amidst appearances… He is to find consolation in exercising the highest functions of human nature. He is one, who raises himself from private considerations, and breathes and lives on public and illustrious thoughts. He is the world’s eye. He is the world’s heart. He is to resist the vulgar prosperity that retrogrades ever to barbarism, by preserving and communicating heroic sentiments, noble biographies, melodious verse, and the conclusions of history. Whatsoever oracles the human heart, in all emergencies, in all solemn hours, has uttered as its commentary on the world of actions, — these he shall receive and impart. And whatsoever new verdict Reason from her inviolable seat pronounces on the passing men and events of to-day, — this he shall hear and promulgate.[3]

Emerson was saying that scholars are called to make our world better by observing, interpreting, and articulating the truth. Epistemology matters: what is fact, what is opinion, what do we know, and how do we know it? Academic experts do this homework every day so that they can serve as sentinels and broadcasters of the truth.

Every day last week, at least one comic strip or the editorial cartoon in our newspaper featured some version of 2023 as an old man warning 2024 as a baby that it was an election year. Also, each of those days featured an editorial letter proclaiming that this election year will pose an existential threat to democracy. Those proclamations came from both sides of the political aisle, and all wrapped their arguments in statements of diametrically opposed “facts.”

More and more, objective facts are labeled as ideological. This seems to be a technique to discredit or toxify inconvenient truths. Nothing seems to be above factiousness, but if we can’t agree on a set of fundamental truths, democracy really is in trouble.

Our nation’s and our world’s greatest challenges should not be partisan minefields. They should be the things we all roll our sleeves up and work on together. For the things that really matter, we can’t be committed to the outcome having winners and losers. If we do, we all lose.

This is why we need to protect the academy. Colleges and universities are far from perfect places — thank goodness. We wrestle with ideas, we experiment, we make mistakes, we create, we debate, we often disagree, but at our core, we seek the truth.

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[1] Coolidge, Calvin: Address to the Society of American Newspaper Editors, 17 January 1925.

[2] In a column in the Washington Post, 18 January 1983.

[3] Ralph Waldo Emerson: The American Scholar. 1837.

Given the broader discourse of the past two months, I have purposefully delayed making an installment for the past few weeks to keep my 15 October post at the top.

Traditions

Colleges and Universities are rife with traditions. Some are silly, but some can be quite meaningful.

Sometimes they accrete their own mythologies. When I was at another institution, there was an entertaining and harmless tradition of wearing costumes during senior week. I once made a wise crack about it, and was told by a student, “You don’t understand, this has been a tradition for nearly a century;” to which I replied, “No, you don’t understand, this was started five years ago by a student named ‘xxxx,’ and I was there. It’s fun, but not foundational.”

Some traditions truly are foundational. Each year at commencement I acknowledge Susquehanna’s traditions:

“Like sacraments, our university traditions are outward signs of inward truths. They are actions that signify values that are at the core of our institutional identity, and they bind us as members of a rare and meaning-filled community.”

At Susquehanna, favorite traditions include: Move-In/Convocation, SU Give, Homecoming, Family Weekend, Thanksgiving Dinner, Candlelight, Martin Luther King Teach In, and SU Serve.

Each of these traditions focuses on certain values or goals.

Move-In (some photos from last year are at the bottom of this page) is an opportunity for faculty, staff, returning students, and some of our neighbors to welcome new students and their families to campus. It affirms for them that we are the close-knit and supportive community they were anticipating.

SU Serve is a day focused on our yearlong commitment to community service. It is also a tradition celebrated by thousands of alumni across the nation and around the world who given tens of thousands of service hours to community organizations every year as an extension of their college experience.

Convocation and Commencement are our formal traditions. We do ceremony with significant pomp and minimal stuffiness. We strongly tie these events to each other. At opening convocation, I invite our new students and their families to their future graduation. I tell them what charge I will give them at commencement, and I encourage them to do all they can in their four years here to be best prepared to meet that charge.

The last few weeks of the Fall semester include some of our favorite traditions.

Be a Kid Again is a gathering on the night before finals. Students gather in the dining hall in their pajamas and sit crossed-legged on the floor enjoying cocoa and cookies. Harmonic Combustion, our student a cappella group, leads them in some carols and I sing a setting of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” with patient help from Prof. Marcos Krieger and Phi Mu Alpha and Sigma Alpha Iota, our musical Greek organizations. It was surely started to provide a boost of encouragement for first-year students about to take their first collegiate finals, but many students participate all four years.

Thanksgiving Dinner is the most sentimental for me. We have three seatings over two days. The final seating is for seniors. Everything is family style, served by faculty, staff, and many of their family members. It is a 42-year-old event that could not be more heart-warming. The students are truly grateful and gracious. This year’s seniors were especially appreciative because their first year, we did Thanksgiving as a masked take-out. Even then there was a palpable sense of gratitude.

Our Christmas Candlelight is beloved by the religious and non-religious alike. About 1400 people attend our own version a Lessons and Carols Service. Founded in 1966, it is a terrific showcase for our choirs and instrumental ensembles, and it is one of our best town-gown integrations. This year’s program was focused on finding hope and peace in a weary world with an emphasis on the Beatitudes.

Each of these traditions helps to shape and reinforce culture and values, and they are strong reminders of how lucky we are to be in this wonderful place.

Last weekend, I watched in horror as Hamas heinously attacked and killed hundreds of innocent people in Israel. My next thoughts were on our regrettable history that has cultivated such inhumane rage among these terrorists. Then I began to fear what spiral of successive acts of revenge would follow. Like nearly all conflicts and wars, this will have no winner, but the losses will be beyond measure. They already are.

The following Monday, Rabbi Nina Mandel, our Director of Jewish Life, held a gathering to express solidarity. A small group of us sat together in mutual support. We looked at maps of Israel and the Occupied Territories. Some of those gathered pointed out where their family members were living, or where they had once lived themselves. We tried to unpack what we knew, what we thought would happen next, and mostly we were sad together.

The next morning, I sent a message to the campus community. This is one of the more challenging balancing acts of the presidency. At difficult times, many members of every campus community want a statement of a position, a value, or compassion.

I have written here before on the lodestones I use in crafting a statement, when they apply: the University’s Mission Statement and our Statement on Diverse and Ethical Living. I also want the members of our campus community, especially our students, to know that I love them and care for them

Throughout the remainder of the week, there have been criticisms of numerous presidents for not issuing a statement, and for those of us who did, there have been criticisms of what we said, or didn’t say. It is difficult because what words of compassion can provide consolation, and what words of outrage won’t amplify tensions?

My message was simple: “We are all watching the eruption of violence in Israel with horror and sorrow. Our hearts go out to members of the Susquehanna community who have friends and family in harm’s way, and we hope for a quick and peaceful resolution.” This was followed by a list of campus support resources.

I received messages from community members thanking me and others expressing disappointment or indignation for not being stronger and for not calling out the malefactors. Each of them has a reasoned perspective.

I am outraged at what Hamas has done, but those campus messages go out over my name, and I will be just as outraged when innocents in Gaza are killed as part of the retaliation. What message should come next, and how would my rhetoric not become the same vicious cycle as the acts of retribution they are meant to condemn.

Victims are just that, victims. We are the mourners and the caretakers of those who mourn. We can also honor the dead by being advocates for peace and a more just future for all.

During our gathering on Monday, a copy of Psalm 122 was handed out, verses 6-8 are:

⁶ O pray for the peace of Jerusalem; they shall prosper that love thee.

⁷ Peace be within thy walls, and plenteousness within thy palaces.

⁸ For my brethren and companions’ sakes, I will wish thee prosperity.

⁹ Yea, because of the house of the Lord our God, I will seek to do thee good.[1]

Let us hope for peace within all our walls, and let us pray for the courage and wisdom to broker a lasting end to this and all wars.

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[1] Psalm 122. Laetatus sum. The Book of Common Prayer. New York: The Church Pension Fund, 1928.