The AAC&U's Stealth Brigade
I’m reminded of this dilemma when I write about the Association of American Colleges and Universities (AAC&U), as I did last week for Inside Higher Education. Through initiatives heavy with educational jargon and code words, the AAC&U wants to reorient college education away from the traditional disciplines of the liberal arts and toward an emphasis on teaching skills and appropriate behavior in a “diverse democracy,” through courses loaded with a one-sided political message.
The agenda is troubling enough. Yet, in many ways, the group’s hypocrisy is even more indefensible. The AAC&U describes its approach by employing banal, often laudable, terms such as “excellence,” or “rigorous,” or “student-centered learning,” but then defining these terms in the exact opposite of their commonly accepted meanings. In the AAC&U’s world, day is night, hot is cold, academic freedom is indoctrination, excellence is watering down content. The expectation: busy Trustees, parents, alumni, and journalists won’t look past the rhetoric, allowing the AAC&U to impose its curricular agenda by stealth.
I first encountered this pattern a couple of years ago, when I delved into an AAC&U-sponsored program called the “Arts of Democracy.” Funded by a federal grant totaling more than $600,000, the “Arts of Democracy” claims to expose undergraduates to “global studies” and teach them about the foundations of American democracy and how to make intelligent choices about international relations. Sounds perfectly reasonable—until you realize that each of the 11 schools with an “Arts of Democracy” cluster teaches students that “democracy” entails a fidelity to a multicultural political agenda. Most people—and certainly not the funders in the U.S. Department of education—would not accept that definition of “democracy.”
But the AAC&U never describes the United States as a “democracy.” It always employs the term “diverse democracy,” with the implication that a fundamental difference exists between the two types of government. In the former, a broad range of issues are debated, and students train for citizenship in part through an understanding of government structures and the history of political participation. In the latter, only those opinions that reflect a “pro-diversity” approach are considered legitimate, and change occurs through social activism, not by working through the system.
In response to my criticism, AAC&U president Carole Geary Schneider wrote to Maryland senator Barbara Mikulski, claiming that the “Arts of Democracy” project demonstrated the AAC&U’s position as a “vigorous champion of academic freedom.” Well, if you define academic freedom as the freedom to agree with the AAC&U’s ideological agenda, I suppose that statement is true. But, as with the AAC&U peculiar definition of “democracy,” most people don’t define academic freedom in that manner.
Geary Schneider takes a similar approach in yesterday’s Inside Higher Ed, when she responds to my column. How, she asks, could criticism be leveled against a program subtitled"Excellence for Everyone as a Nation Goes to College”? The academy, she proclaims, “stands at a crossroads,” with “an extraordinary opportunity to provide an entire generation with the kind of life-enhancing, horizon-expanding education that was once available only to a fortunate few.” This emphasis on “more ‘engaged’ forms of learning have particular value for first generation students and students who are not in a position to benefit from a residential college education.” Who could object?
Just a guess here: schools that cater to the “fortunate few” have never offered such examples of “more ‘engaged’ forms of learning” as those of AAC&U institutions such as IUPUI, which requires all freshmen to enroll in an interdisciplinary class teaching such"skills" as"a survey of campus resources" and"time management,” or Portland State, which features a 6-credit “senior capstone” in such topics as"Empowerment of Youth on Probation--Girl Power" or"The Spirituality of Being Awake." Geary Schneider and the AAC&U seem to truly believe that first-generation and commuter students aren’t capable of handling more challenging fare, and so we all should use pretend rhetoric and claim that such offerings provide exciting new examples of “more ‘engaged’ forms of learning.” This is paternalism—class bias—of the worst sort.
Geary Schneider also denies that the AAC&U favors politically one-sided courses, since “liberal education, by definition, introduces and examines diverse perspectives on any subject. A good liberal education further teaches students how to evaluate competing claims and different perspectives while learning to form their own judgments.”
I wonder in what specific ways Geary Schneider and the AAC&U consider the courses at one of the most prominent AAC&U institutions, Washington's Evergreen College, to “introduce and examine diverse perspectives on any subject.” As I pointed out in the Inside Higher Ed piece, a typical Evergreen course is “Inherently Unequal, which teaches U.S. history since the Brown decision. The course’s description states -- as unquestioned fact -- that at the end of the 20th century,"racist opposition to African American progress and the resurgence of conservatism in all branches of government barricaded the road to desegregation." Multiple Evergreen courses reflect a similar viewpoint; I’ve been unable to find even one that offers another, or even a seemingly neutral portrayal of subjects relating to diversity.
In her response, Geary Schneider invites readers to sample AAC&U reports, such as "Greater Expectations: A New Vision for Learning as a Nation Goes to College”. I’d do the same, especially for people late at night having trouble falling to sleep: the report is even more jargon-laden than the usual AAC&U document. But, as with all AAC&U material, occasionally items slip through the code.
For instance, the report chastises colleges and universities for privileging scholarly research in hiring and tenuring faculty—part of the organization’s furious opposition to encouraging research in traditional academic disciplines, an approach that reflects “20th century,” as opposed to “21st century,” institutions of higher learning. Moreover, instead of evaluating candidates’ scholarship or ability in traditional lecture-and-discussion format teaching, the organization has advocated employing new “faculty with qualifications different than the past”—i.e., professors who agree with the AAC&U’s ideological agenda. Astutely, the AAC&U has realized that “faculty hiring is one opportunity to acquire the talent and values essential for institutional change”—and to exclude professors who refuse to embrace the AAC&U vision.
As for scholars who already possess tenure, the group’s 2004 conference included a panel exploring “cooptation strategies for professors with a high need for research achievement who oppose reform.” In the AAC&U’s academic universe, no connection exists between the creation of new knowledge from scholarship and what professors teach in the classroom. To the contrary, scholars are the enemy, figures who need to be “coopted” so colleges can focus on teaching “diversity skills,” in classes where “new knowledge” is created by students and professors having in-class discussions about anti-diversity acts they themselves have personally experienced.
The AAC&U’s philosophy represents little more than a warmed-over version of failed 1960s educational pedagogy, but one concealed behind high-sounding rhetoric—the AAC&U leadership recognizes that in an open debate, its agenda would have little chance of adoption. In this sense, hypocrisy is a vital component of the AAC&U agenda.