|  | Amy L. Wax is  the Robert Mundheim Professor of Law at the University of Pennsylvania Law  School, where she has received the Harvey Levin Memorial Award for Teaching  Excellence.  She has a B.S. from Yale College, an M.D. from Harvard Medical  School, and a J.D. from Columbia Law School. She is a former assistant to the  United States Solicitor General, and her most recent book is Race,  Wrongs, and Remedies: Group Justice in the 21st Century. | 
                  
                   
                  "There is a lot of abstract talk these  days on American college campuses about free speech and the values of free  inquiry, with plenty of lip service being paid to expansive notions of free  expression and the marketplace of ideas. What I’ve learned through my recent  experience of writing a controversial op-ed is that most of this talk is not  worth much. It is only when people are confronted with speech they don’t like  that we see whether these abstractions are real to them. 
                  The op-ed, which I co-authored with  Larry Alexander of the University of San Diego Law School, appeared in  the Philadelphia Inquirer on August 9 under the title, 'Paying  the Price for the Breakdown of the Country’s Bourgeois Culture.' 
                  It began by  listing some of the ills afflicting American society: 
                  Too few Americans are qualified for the  jobs available. Male working-age labor-force participation is at Depression-era  lows. Opioid abuse is widespread. Homicidal violence plagues inner cities.  Almost half of all children are born out of wedlock, and even more are raised  by single mothers. Many college students lack basic skills, and high school  students rank below those from two dozen other countries. 
                  We then discussed the 'cultural  script'—a list of behavioral norms—that was almost universally endorsed between  the end of World War II and the mid-1960s: 
                  
                    Get married before you have children  and strive to stay married for their sake. Get the education you need for  gainful employment, work hard, and avoid idleness. Go the extra mile for your  employer or client. Be a patriot, ready to serve the country. Be neighborly,  civic-minded, and charitable. Avoid coarse language in public. Be respectful of  authority. Eschew substance abuse and crime. 
                  
                  These norms defined a  concept of adult responsibility that was, we wrote, 'a major contributor to the  productivity, educational gains, and social coherence of that period.' The fact  that the 'bourgeois culture' these norms embodied has broken down since the  1960s, we argued, largely explains today’s social pathologies—and re-embracing  that culture would go a long way toward addressing those pathologies.  
                  In what became perhaps  the most controversial passage, we pointed out that cultures are not equal in  terms of preparing people to be productive citizens in a modern technological  society, and we gave some examples of cultures less suited to achieve this:  
                  
                    The culture of the  Plains Indians was designed for nomadic hunters, but is not suited to a First  World, 21st-century environment. Nor are the single-parent, antisocial habits  prevalent among some working-class whites; the anti-‘acting white’ rap culture  of inner-city blacks; the anti-assimilation ideas gaining ground among some  Hispanic immigrants.  
                  
                  The reactions to this  piece raise the question of how unorthodox opinions should be dealt with in  academia—and in American society at large. 
                  It is well documented  that American universities today, more than ever before, are dominated by  academics on the left end of the political spectrum. How should these academics  handle opinions that depart, even quite sharply, from their 'politically  correct' views? 
                  The proper response would be to engage in reasoned debate—to  attempt to explain, using logic, evidence, facts, and substantive arguments,  why those opinions are wrong. This kind of civil discourse is obviously  important at law schools like mine, because law schools are dedicated to teaching  students how to think about and argue all sides of a question. But academic  institutions in general should also be places where people are free to think  and reason about important questions that affect our society and our way of  life—something not possible in today’s atmosphere of enforced orthodoxy.
                  What those of us in  academia should certainly not do is engage in unreasoned  speech: hurling slurs and epithets, name-calling, vilification, and mindless  labeling. Likewise we should not reject the views of others without providing  reasoned arguments. Yet these once common standards of practice have been  violated repeatedly at my own and at other academic institutions in recent  years—and we increasingly see this trend in society as well.   
                  One might respond, of  course, that unreasoned slurs and outright condemnations are also speech and  must be defended. My recent experience has caused me to rethink this position.  In debating others, we should have higher standards. Of course one has  the right to hurl labels like 'racist,' 'sexist,' and  'xenophobic' without good reason—but that doesn’t make it the right thing to  do. Hurling such labels doesn’t enlighten, inform, edify, or educate. Indeed,  it undermines these goals by discouraging or stifling dissent. 
                  So what happened after  our op-ed was published last August? 
                  A raft of letters, statements, and  petitions from students and professors at my university and elsewhere condemned  the piece as racist, white supremacist, hate speech, heteropatriarchial,  xenophobic, etc. There were demands that I be removed from the classroom and  from academic committees. None of these demands even purported to address our  arguments in any serious or systematic way. 
                   A response published  in the Daily Pennsylvanian, our school newspaper, and signed by  five of my Penn Law School colleagues, charged us with the sin of praising the  1950s—a decade when racial discrimination was openly practiced and  opportunities for women were limited. I do not agree with the contention that  because a past era is marked by benighted attitudes and practices—attitudes and  practices we had acknowledged in our op-ed!—it has nothing to teach us. But at  least this response attempted to make an argument.  
                  Not so an open letter  published in the Daily Pennsylvanian and signed by 33 of my  colleagues. This letter quoted random passages from the op-ed and from a  subsequent interview I gave to the school newspaper, condemned both, and  categorically rejected all of my views. 
                  It then invited students, in effect, to  monitor me and to report any 'stereotyping and bias' they might experience or  perceive. This letter contained no argument, no substance, no reasoning, no  explanation whatsoever as to how our op-ed was in error. 
                  We hear a lot of talk  about role models—people to be emulated, who set a positive example for  students and others. In my view, the 33 professors who signed this letter  are anti-role models. 
                  To students and citizens alike I say: don’t  emulate them in condemning people for their views without providing a reasoned  argument. Reject their example. Not only are they failing to teach you the  practice of civil discourse—the sine qua non of liberal  education and of democracy—they are sending the message that civil discourse is  unnecessary. 
                  As Jonathan Haidt of NYU wrote on September 2 on his website  Heterodox Academy: 'Every open letter you sign to condemn a colleague for his  or her words brings us closer to a world in which academic disagreements are  resolved by social force and political power, not by argumentation and persuasion.' 
                  It is gratifying to  note that the reader comments on the open letter were overwhelmingly critical.  The letter has 'no counterevidence,' one reader wrote, 'no rebuttal to [Wax’s]  arguments, just an assertion that she’s wrong. . . . This is embarrassing.' 
                  Another wrote: 'This letter is an exercise in self-righteous virtue-signaling  that utterly fails to deal with the argument so cogently presented by Wax and  Alexander. . . . Note to parents, if you want your daughter or son to learn to  address an argument, do not send them to Penn Law.'
                  Shortly after the  op-ed appeared, I ran into a colleague I hadn’t seen for a while and asked how  his summer was going. He said he’d had a terrible summer, and in saying it he  looked so serious I thought someone had died. He then explained that the reason  his summer had been ruined was my op-ed, and he accused me of attacking and  causing damage to the university, the students, and the faculty. 
                  One of my  left-leaning friends at Yale Law School found this story funny—who would have  guessed an op-ed could ruin someone’s summer? But beyond the absurdity, note  the choice of words: 'attack' and 'damage' are words one uses with one’s  enemies, not colleagues or fellow citizens. At the very least, they are not  words that encourage the expression of unpopular ideas. They reflect a spirit  hostile to such ideas—indeed, a spirit that might seek to punish the expression  of such ideas.  
                  I had a similar  conversation with a deputy dean. She had been unable to sign the open letter  because of her official position, but she defended it as having been necessary.  It needed to be written to get my attention, she told me, so that I would  rethink what I had written and understand the hurt I had inflicted and the  damage I had done, so that I wouldn’t do it again. The message was clear: cease  the heresy. 
                  Only half of my  colleagues in the law school signed the open letter. One who didn’t sent me a  thoughtful and lawyerly email explaining how and why she disagreed with  particular points in the op-ed. We had an amicable email exchange, from which I  learned a lot—some of her points stick with me—and we remain cordial  colleagues. That is how things should work. 
                  Of the 33 who signed  the letter, only one came to talk to me about it—and I am grateful for that.  About three minutes into our conversation, he admitted that he didn’t  categorically reject everything in the op-ed. Bourgeois values aren’t really so  bad, he conceded, nor are all cultures equally worthy. Given that those were  the main points of the op-ed, I asked him why he had signed the letter. His  answer was that he didn’t like my saying, in my interview with the Daily  Pennsylvanian, that the tendency of global migrants to flock to white  European countries indicates the superiority of some cultures. This struck him  as 'code,' he said, for Nazism.  
                  Well, let me state for  the record that I don’t endorse Nazism! 
                  Furthermore, the  charge that a statement is 'code' for something else, or a 'dog whistle' of  some kind—we frequently hear this charge leveled, even against people who are  stating demonstrable facts—is unanswerable. It is like accusing a speaker of  causing emotional injury or feelings of marginalization. Using this kind of  language, which students have learned to do all too well, is intended to bring  discussion and debate to a stop—to silence speech deemed unacceptable.  
                  As Humpty Dumpty said  to Alice, we can make words mean whatever we want them to mean. And who decides  what is code for something else or what qualifies as a dog whistle? Those in power,  of course—which in academia means the Left.  
                  My 33 colleagues might  have believed they were protecting students from being injured by harmful  opinions, but they were doing those students no favors. Students need the  opposite of protection from diverse arguments and points of view. They need  exposure to them. This exposure will teach them how to think. As John Stuart  Mill said, 'He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that.' 
                   I have received more  than 1,000 emails from around the country in the months since the op-ed was  published—mostly supportive, some critical, and for the most part thoughtful  and respectful. Many expressed the thought, 'You said what we are thinking but  are afraid to say'—a sad commentary on the state of civil discourse in our  society. Many urged me not to back down, cower, or apologize. And I agree with  them that dissenters apologize far too often. 
                  Democracy thrives on  talk and debate, and it is not for the faint of heart. I read things every day  in the media and hear things every day at my job that I find exasperating and  insulting, including falsehoods and half-truths about people who are my  friends. Offense and upset go with the territory; they are part and parcel of  an open society. We should be teaching our young people to get used to these  things, but instead we are teaching them the opposite. 
                  Disliking, avoiding,  and shunning people who don’t share our politics is not good for our country.  We live together, and we need to solve our problems together. It is also always  possible that people we disagree with have something to offer, something to  contribute, something to teach us. We ignore this at our peril. 
                  As Heather Mac  Donald wrote in National Review on August 29: 'What if the  progressive analysis of inequality is wrong . . . and a cultural analysis is  closest to the truth? If confronting the need to change behavior is punishable  ‘hate speech,’ then it is hard to see how the country can resolve its social  problems.' In other words, we are at risk of being led astray by received  opinion. 
                  The American way is to  conduct free and open debate in a civil manner. We should return to doing that  on our college campuses and in our society at large."