NorthWest Communication Association

Musings on the Place and Possibility
of a Moral Voice in the Academy

Keynote Address
April 8, 2005

Professor A. Susan Owen
University of Puget Sound

Thank you Jeff. It is an honor to be asked to address this conference. I would like to begin by acknowledging my colleagues Peter Ehrenhaus, Pacific Lutheran University, and Grace Livingston, University of Puget Sound. Their feedback on early drafts of this address was invaluable. I would also like to acknowledge members of my Spring 2005 senior seminar in critical media studies. Our conversations in that class have been instrumental in shaping my thoughts for today. Five students from that class are here today: Mike, Tyler, Peter, Jacob and Cory -- thanks for the good talks we have had.

Today, I would like to talk about three challenges to the place and possibility of a moral voice in the academy. And to the implications of these challenges for all of us in this room today. But first:

What do I mean by a "moral" voice? As I conceive of it, 5 characteristics seem especially relevant.

First, I position this voice in the public spaces. Its capabilities include the capacity to locate, articulate and evaluate the complicated boundaries between public and private lives. Since these boundaries are evoked and revoked through public acts of communication, we as communication scholars, teachers and students are uniquely positioned to contribute to some of the most important public conversations of our day: Who should be allowed to marry? When shall the government have control of our bodies? Who decides when we die? Who will bear the burden of fighting our wars abroad? Is a ìjust warî possible?

Second, a moral voice is necessarily deliberative. It requires of all who deploy it the discipline of sound judgment and the commitment to participatory decision-making. Thus, this voice is concerned with the welfare of communities and with fundamental human rights for all members of those communities. Because moral people are always concerned with the rights and interests of minorities within any community, they must become exceptionally disciplined and experienced listeners. Many times, we need to listen with open minds and hearts.

Third, a moral voice is ideologically self-reflexive. As moral people, we must recognize how power flows, constituting personal and institutional relationships. We must know and interrogate our place and the places of others within the hierarchies of institutions. Moral people negotiate power without becoming corrupted or seduced or coarsened by it. Moral people do not shrink from speaking to power ‚ from confronting power -- even when intimidated or out-numbered. An ideologically reflexive moral voice is not threatened by ambiguity and complexity -- moral people appreciate and embrace the inevitabilities and possibilities of the gray zones.

Fourth, a moral voice interrogates, because epistemologies are always already positional, they are inevitably political, even as they may deny that they are. Simply put, there are no neutral zones in the production of knowledge. Edward Said warned us that disciplined inquiry has the capacity to become organized dogma. In other words, disciplines develop the tendency to exist only for their own perpetuation. Said argued that in addition to ìspecialization and maintenance,î the academic enterprise should produce knowledge and insight which facilitates ìinterventionî in the world. A voice that interrogates will be disruptive to ìbusiness as usual.î Count on it. That is not to say, however, that morality and civility are mutually exclusive. It is to say that moral people cannot be deterred from speaking that which is deeply unsettling. Comfort and civility are not at all the same thing -- though we frequently confuse them. Sophisticated facility with rhetorical style is integral to the possibility of a moral voice ‚ necessary for the sometimes arduous work of negotiating the politics of power ‚ when ìreasonî meets ìdisruption.î

Fifth and finally, a moral voice is grounded in the critical history of inequality and oppression. A critically sustained memory of past injustices is fundamental to the possibility of sustained equality in the present and the future. The recorded history of the human condition suggests that there may never be an appropriate time to ìforgetî the history of human bondage, misery and injustice. The burden of history must be borne by all of us, willingly, in the interest of human freedom.

Now, what are the challenges to the place and possibility of a moral voice in the academy ‚ and to our appropriating that voice?

I see three challenges:

The first challenge concerns the internal politics of the academy

The institution of higher education is fundamentally conservative. Our external critics believe that we are irredeemably and irresponsibly liberal, and I will address that shortly as a different sort of challenge. But in fact, our institutional and organizational configuration promotes impulses toward ìconservation.î The always already shrinking budget promotes family warfare between and among departments, schools and colleges as we compete for always already dwindling resources. The politics of epistemology promotes bitter struggles over curricular development and core ìrights and responsibilities.î Sectional and entrenched interests promote an atmosphere of hostility and suspicion. Cooperation and shared commitments to liberal education are enormously difficult in this environment. Many of us who labor in this context are always already exhausted by the struggle.

And then thereís the pettiness and small mindedness that stems, paradoxically, from the lofty conditions of our work environment. The logic of academic freedom asserts that professors need to be sheltered from the pressures of the commercial sector in order to think deeply and produce reliable knowledge. And thus, we are afforded some measure of ìinsularityî from the ìrealî world of labor relations. However -- blend equal parts insularity with the deeply entrenched elitism of the academic enterprise and you get a predictable output of backstabbing, backbiting, squabbling, paranoia and assassination. I have witnessed nothing more disheartening and discouraging in my twenty plus years in the academy as the predictability of pettiness and personal conflicts masquerading as principled judgment. Nowhere is this malaise more evident than in the tenure process.

Elitism and insularity pose significant challenges for the possibilities of a moral voice inside the academy. The very things that define us can also undo us. And so let me challenge the members of the academy assembled here today: What can communication scholars and teachers do to insure moral leadership in our institutions? How can we participate in fostering an environment where deliberation, political acumen, and commitments to community define our activities? We are uniquely qualified to provide moral leadership in the academy because we study human communication ‚ the wellspring of moral possibility.

We study human organizations, public argument, public address, interpersonal relationships, conflict management, work environments, group communication, health communication, mass media organizations, the history of rhetoric, culture, media texts, media circulation ‚ in short, we study the human capacity for influence. Across university settings in this country, we tend to be among the more cohesive, productive academic departments (although we can all name the exception that proves the rule). Members of our discipline are good administrators: trusted department chairs; fair-minded deans; visionary vice-presidents. We are productive and respected scholars. We are among the finest pedagogues in the academic business.

And yet, because of the elitism of higher education, Communication programs often struggle with an inferiority complex. We may be viewed dismissively as a ìskillsî department ‚ as though, inexplicably, the capacity for clear, efficient and effective communication is somehow pedestrian, apart from legitimate intellectual pursuit. Because we are superb pedagogues, we frequently are asked to shoulder more than our fair share of entry-level classes. Many of us struggle to maintain coherent research programs while teaching a full load of classes. Most of us feel obligated to give our students the very best weíve got on a daily basis. And the best means keeping ourselves alive and vigorous intellectually. And so we continue the Herculean task of balancing intellectual work with pedagogy and governance. But here is my challenge to all of us: Let us remember that we study the human capacity for moral possibilities in the world. And, we believe that teaching is a noble profession, not to be eclipsed by research programs. Our published work is very important -- it keeps us in touch with the discipline and it keeps us on our toes intellectually. But the influence weíve had in the classroom changes lives for the better, one student at a time. And who knows? It may even change the world for the better, one student at a time.

And that brings me to the second set of challenges ‚ for our students. To all of you students who are here today: Never forget ‚ you are in a department that values teaching; and thatís why you are here today.

What are the challenges and responsibilities of those who pass through the academy?

Most of you here today will go on to professions outside the academy. If the Communication professors in this room have done their jobs, then they have helped you craft yourself as a ìcritical voiceî in the world. If weíve done our jobs, we have conveyed to you the responsibilities of ethical communication behavior. We have instilled in you the capacity for reasoned judgment; we have taught you to be comfortable with ambiguity and to know the difference between comfort and civility. We have asked you to ponder the complex relationships between public and private lives; we have impressed upon you the significance of disciplined deliberation. We have urged you to understand that listening is not a passive position, but an active engagement with the world around you. If weíve done our jobs, we have demonstrated to you that human communication ‚ in all its forms -- is the wellspring of moral possibility.

I hope we have taught you to be self-reflexive ‚ to ceaselessly (and annoyingly) examine your own belief structures. I hope we have taught you to ask questions ‚ to interrogate the world around you. I hope we have helped you imagine the courage you will need to stand up to power, to protect those who are vulnerable, to take risks in the interest of social justice. I hope we have taught you that a well-educated citizen is one who embarks on a lifetime of learning. When you leave the university environment, you must create and sustain a life for your mind. I hope we have taught you to aim for labor that is intrinsically meaningful and satisfying. And if that labor turns out to be lucrative ‚ well, donít forget the departments you left behind.

The expertise you are developing in various communication programs across the Northwest brings with it certain responsibilities. Let me make this absolutely clear: You have obligations because of your privilege. You are obligated to participate in this republic as a public citizen. Your knowledge of communication equips you to be a skilled advocate for education, the environment, the arts, human rights and social services. Your knowledge of public argument equips you to get involved in grass roots discussions of a wide range of important topics, from gay marriage to campaign finance reform to right-to-die legislation. We trust that you will follow your conscience, in balance with your understanding of civil liberties, and in concert with self-reflexiveness about the rights of others. Because of your privilege, you are obliged to participate in crafting more humane professional organizations. You are obligated to create the conditions for labor that do not rob people of their health, reasonable time away from the job, or health and retirement benefits. You are obligated to take on the petty parochial voices that advocate superstition and ignorance: sexism, racism, homophobia, and bigotries of all stripes. You are obligated to create the possibilities for participatory democracy at the local levels; you are obligated to participate in this republic, even when you despair over national politics and international relations. As a liberally educated citizen, you carry on your shoulders the awesome responsibility to sustain the moral possibility of human rights and to contribute to the betterment of the human condition. This will be a lifetime commitment.

Challenge Three: The role of academics as public intellectuals and citizens

The world external to the academy frequently is hostile to our mission of education and epistemology. Public institutions face the ire of taxpayers who may view education as little more than advanced job skills ‚ and may find little merit in ceaseless inquiry and investigation. Nowhere is the politics of knowledge production more obvious than in the public battles over what college students should be taught. Letís review three current hot button issues.

Number One, from the Right of the Political Spectrum: What is the origin of human life?

One imagines this question as appropriate to our colleagues in the humanities: departments of religion, philosophy, art history, comparative literature, and rhetorical studies. However, our colleagues in the natural sciences face mounting public pressure to juxtaposition the theory of ìintelligent designî with the theory of evolution. Eugenie Scott, executive director of the National Center for Science Education, argues that the religious right, emboldened by President Bush and his administration, has stepped up pressures on public institutions of learning to supplement science curricula with ìalternativeî explanations of human existence. The Washington Post reported that ìsome evolution opponents are trying to use Bushís No Child Left Behind Law . . . to set new teaching standards. Sen. Rick Santorum (R-Pa.) . . . [for example] drafted language accompanying the law that said students should be exposed to ëthe full range of scientific views that existí.î (Tacoma New Tribune March 15, 2005). For Senator Santorum, this includes the theory of intelligent design. No Child Left Behind legislation deals with public education at the level of primary and secondary education. However, if Senator Santorum and others prevail at the primary and secondary level, then public colleges and universities will be vulnerable to those logics, both from their student populations and from taxpayers who support the institutions. Are the people who foot the bill for higher education entitled to influence or limit scholarship and curricular development? Here, Iím thinking about taxpayers, parents, contributors and benefactors, and students who pay their own way.

The Number Two hot-button issue comes from the alleged Left of the political spectrum: are men better than women at science and mathematics?

The president of Harvard University has learned the rhetorical limits of academic freedom. Perhaps if Harvard University had a Communication Studies program, we could have helped Lawrence Summers avoid the many rhetorical blunders he has made during his presidency. The predictable fall-out over the recent gender blunder included: (1) the usual suspects hurling invective in the public space; (2) serious academicians pondering the importance of asking unpopular questions; and (3) voluminous explanations -- positive and negative -- of the fact that women are outnumbered by men in sciences and mathematics. The dispute over Summersí question reveals the politics of epistemology. Second wave feminists moved into the academy and claimed ìsquatterís rightsî 30+ years ago when they understood that they were not to be the leaders of the Free Speech Movement or the Students for Democratic Society or the Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee. Today, Womenís Studies programs are popular, if under-funded, programs across the nation. Yet, ìfeministî has become an ìFî word -- as in, ìIím not a feminist, but I support the rights of women.î Or, as I was told by one of my white male colleagues, ìsurely you understand that feminism is not a disinterested perspective.î My colleague is a labor historian who understands his position to be ìdisinterestedî in the outcome of his studies. Thus, he questioned my assertion that feminism, queer studies and critical race studies ought to infuse and re-shape the university curriculum -- not merely exist as boutique ìstudiesî programs in the margins of the curriculum. My colleague does not understand why I do not accept my place in the epistemological and institutional slums of academe. When I posit my assertion as a moral claim, many of my colleagues are genuinely puzzled. How can I drag morality into a dispute over epistemology? How? Because it is fundamentally wrong to call ourselves institutions of liberal learning when we systematically marginalize the lives and experiences of so many people -- and call it ìhigher learning.î And as long as we are doing an inventory of our shortcomings, let us ask ourselves this: Where were the outraged friends of feminism at Harvard when President Summers criticized Professor Cornell West over the quality and significance of his scholarly work?

President Summers and others have suggested that the backlash to his utterances -- about critical race studies and about women -- hinders the possibility of academic freedom. He has apologized; he says he merely asked a question in the spirit of inquiry. Fair enough. But thatís the same defense Ward Churchill offered in response to critics of his essay on North American imperialism. I donít recall reading or hearing that the President of Harvard has come to the aid of his embattled colleague in the spirit of preserving the academic right to ask unpopular questions. Of course, President Summers is no friend to critical and cultural studies programs. Rachel Donadio, writing for the New York Times book review, remarks that Summers has worked ìto steer Harvard closer to the mainstreamî (Sunday, March 27, 2005p. 13). This has included supporting efforts to bring back the R.O.T.C. from M.I.T., ìwhere it had been exiled after Vietnam-era campus protests and where it remained because of [contemporary] protests over . . . discrimination against homosexualsî (Donadio, p. 13).

And that brings us to the third hot-button issue:

Elizabeth Hoffman, the out-going President of the University of Colorado, has said that she is resigning for two reasons: athletic scandals and free speech (Newsweek, March 21, 2005). I could not have expressed, more powerfully, the toxic entanglements of ìpublicî and ìuniversity.î On the one hand, the tax-paying citizens willfully and knowingly participate in supporting a sports program built on the presumptions of hegemonic masculinity and competition. They are ìshocked, shockedî to learn that Colorado sought to lure prospective male students into the football program with prostituted sex, drugs and alcohol. How long have tax-paying fans of the Colorado football program turned a blind eye to recruiting practices and gender politics? On the other hand, some of these same citizens have howled for the head Professor Ward Churchill, a tenured full professor, and until the recent scandal, the Chair of the Ethnic Studies program at Colorado. The university has not yet decided whether Professor Churchill will be allowed to keep his job. Among those calling for Churchillís dismissal is Governor Bill Owens, who says that Churchill has ìbesmirchedî the reputation of the university. (I guess pimping for football recruits doesnít meet the standard.)

What exactly did Professor Churchill do that so inflamed the Fox Network, college students, and conservative voices all over the country? He argued that the long and ignoble history of North American race politics has rendered the nation vulnerable to terrorist attacks. He argued that the tragedy of 9/11 resulted, in part, from the American legacy of imperialism: race slavery, racial apartheid well into the second half of the twentieth century, the genocide of indigenous people of this continent, capitalist exploitation of human life in poor countries abroad, the perpetuation of human misery in the interest of economic gain, and so on. [pause] Now thatís a provocative set of claims -- surely well within the spirit of academic freedom. Only, the language I have used to express Ward Churchillís perspective is not the same as the language he used to express himself. In his essay on the 9/11 attack that has been circulating publicly since 2001, Prof. Churchill used invective, polemic, hyperbole and exaggeration. He deployed stereotypes, inflammatory words, and hateful speech. Why did he do this? A lapse in judgment brought on by battle fatigue, perhaps. Rage . . . that injustice continues to be perpetuated in the name of democracy and freedom. Or, perhaps Churchill was simply getting caught up in the political play ‚ academic cleverness and invective ‚ a tendency unhappily characteristic of the Left. Professor Churchillís situation is a powerful reminder of the importance of language, of audience, of public/private boundaries, and of walking the astute side of polemic. For now, Professor Churchill has lost his credibility and quite possibly, his capacity for providing moral leadership through ethnic studies programs.

I have suggested here today that a moral voice is both possible and appropriate in the academy. I have talked about the challenges we all face -- either as members of the academy or people passing through the academy on the way to the rest of their lives. In some ways, the academy became the secular church of the twentieth century. Marginalized citizens ‚ women, people of color, the children of the working class and people of alternative sexualities -- moved their agitation for equality and recognition into the streets ‚ and then into the academy. Many of us walked away from the religious organizations in which we grew up because there was no place for us there, or because the place for us was limited and limiting. We lost faith in our government because of Vietnam, Watergate, sexism, racism and sexual bigotry. We moved our struggle to the public sphere; some of us moved into the academic halls of learning to pursue our quest for a better world. We agreed to the rules: All ideas and perspectives must be submitted to scrutiny, to the review of our peers, to deliberative consideration. We agreed to abide by the rules of reasoned judgment, even when the deck of ìreasonable argumentîseemed stacked against our interests. In time, we grew more powerful and more influential. In the twenty-first century, we face some old challenges: (1) our tendency to get bogged down in the insular and self-perpetuating spaces of our disciplines; (2) our tendency to forget that our positions are privileged ‚ no matter how irritating that reminder may be; and, (3) our tendency to participate in antagonistic competition rather than in communities of cooperation and learning. We also face some new and sobering realities: We live in a post-9/ll American culture with all the potentially lethal entailments that accompany geo-political struggle of this scale. We live in an increasingly conservative political culture, here and abroad. And we live among an increasingly divided public citizenry. If the academy can create and maintain a space where a moral voice flourishes ‚ one that respects deliberation, that calls for ideological introspection, that interrogates power, and that engages a critical history of our past -- then the academy may very well become a space of liberation for the twenty-first century ‚ the political and intellectual locus for the possibility of peace and environmental survival. Communication scholars, teachers and students -- we who study the wellspring of moral possibility -- we will all be instrumental in creating and maintaining that space and those possibilities.

Thank you.

Reproduced with permission of A. Susan Owen, who retains all legal rights to this document.