The iconic figure of Blind Fury is a classical god lashing out violently at anyone or anything not to its liking. Godhood aside, Trump is a blind fury in his ignorance about and violence toward anything which he believes upholds conduct, principles, or values not white, male, and Christian, or positions not in accord with administration policy. His administration attacks law firms, the courts, the media, and institutions of higher education, the latter for promoting woke and DEI, and, purportedly, permitting antisemitism. These exercises of blind fury misdirect its violence—various efforts to seize control of or defund academic activities—toward curriculums, instruction, and research having little or nothing to do with woke, DEI, or antisemitism.
The fact is that scientific, technical, and engineering fields have little to do with woke or DEI. Programs, courses, and research in, say, fusion power, quantum computing, astrophysics, microbiology, immunology, and the like are unrelated to these controversial issues. Faculty and students in such fields rarely are involved in political demonstrations and rarely make public statements about these issues. Their expertise and interests are elsewhere. So, when the Trump administration withholds millions or billions of research dollars from colleges and universities, it withholds them mainly from the fields which give America its technological superiority and much of its economic strength.
The fields not much affected by withholding federal research dollars are the social sciences and the humanities: psychology, anthropology, sociology, economics, political science, history, philosophy, literature, and the arts. These fields place humans and their relationships at their core and attract faculty and students interested in them. They involve issues concerning race, gender, class, and colonialism; offer practical responses like awareness (woke) and amelioration (DEI); and prompt criticisms of disfavored conditions or circumstances. These issues have become more prominent and political in these fields as well as in society since at least the Civil Rights and Women’s Liberation Movements and the Vietnam War.
My field in which I have a PhD is English, but I am no apologist for it. I was an independent consultant (defense, energy, environment) and, in my spare time and retirement, an independent scholar, now with a dozen refereed articles and a book to my credit. I kept up with scholarship in my field and with my friends, many of them distinguished professors. They became increasingly disgruntled and disillusioned over the past five decades by a field corrupted by a misguided quest for relevance defined by political perspectives and approaches. Some students responded similarly. My daughter swore off English classes altogether after one literature class at Cornell because the instructor made clear that only some views were acceptable and discouraged others; classroom discussion was thus circumscribed and not in accord with academic freedom. Not surprisingly, course enrollments and the number of majors have declined for decades.
So accusations from the Right about Leftist politics in academe in five recent decades are not without foundation. The influence of politics in the social sciences and the humanities is similar, though it varies in details and degree. In the study of literature in the four preceding decades, the prevailing interpretive approach to literature was New Criticism, which viewed a literary work as a self-contained aesthetic object requiring little or no reference to the author, the audience, or the world in which it was written. The Civil Rights and Women’s Liberation Movements and the Vietnam War ended the detachment of literature from the life which gives it meaning. The ending came about because graduate school enabled objectors to that conflict to find a refuge from the draft—which means that, for many, the motive for graduate study was politics, not literature. The texts are literary, but they became the pretexts for interpretations skewed by political rather than literary factors, with the sanction of making literature “relevant” to the times. With contributions from subsidiary fashions in interpretation, New Historicism—as some have quipped, neither new nor historical—became the prevailing interpretive approach to literature. Its political concerns continue today.
Yet English professors sometimes inadvertently exhibit their arrogance and ignorance when they work from a political perspective or approach. Consider the pontification of a certain famous professor, once at Columbia, now at Yale. In discussing Macbeth, he declares that Macbeth had a better claim to the throne than Malcolm, the assassinated king’s son, because he had been duly elected king by the assembled thanes. This professor’s political cynicism, shared by many, led him to regard an election by thanes ignorant of Macbeth’s force and fraud as valid because of a formal vote. Only English professors, I think, would make such a claim; today, they would find the slates of alternative electors valid because someone signed and stamped them.
This instance of the harmful influence of political thinking on literary interpretation is unusual because it does not address any of the four predominant lenses of New Historicism and prevailing perspectives in the other humanities and the social sciences: race, gender, class, and colonization. These perspectives are foundations of campus fashions: political correctness, identity groupings, safe zones, trigger warnings, canceling, etc. Campus demonstrations about the Israeli-Hamas conflict express anti-Israel, pro-Palestine sympathy and support because they reflect an approved anti-occidental perspective which sees Israel as colonizing, West Bank and Gaza as colonized. By contrast, where Western colonizing cannot be raised as a consideration, protesters have no concern and nothing to say about ethnic cleansing and genocidal wars in sub-Saharan Africa—proof of their extra-literary, political ideology parochial and partisan.
So some research and teaching in the humanities and social science have an ideological slant to them. But their correction or elimination cannot be achieved by coercion or punishment. Trump’s inappropriate, ill-conceived, misdirected, or indiscriminate interventions or penalties targeting institutions, departments, programs, or courses of higher education intend to destroy, if they cannot control and pervert, them. Even classroom commissars required by a federal administration could not reform slanted classroom instruction; they could merely reverse an ideological slant in the instruction.
Trump’s blind fury cannot achieve his malign purpose. It cannot obliterate ideas or eradicate institutions; ideas survive, institutions revive. Academe is not perfect; however, criticism of its imperfections, whether from within or without, can suggest reforms. But only the slow-acting, self-correcting modalities of academe can reform inappropriate research and teaching. For best results, academe, best able to understand its distinctive character, must be allowed to reform itself in its mission to serve the truth and, by doing so, its society.