The Coddling of the American Mind: How Good Intentions and Bad Ideas are Setting Up a Generation for Failure

Sociologist Emile Durkheim believes humans function on two levels, the “profane” or personal level, and the “sacred” or group level. Group cohesion is heightened by rituals, chanting, and dancing to achieve a state of “collective effervescence” (100) that energizes group members for action.

In 1692, people in Salem, Massachusetts, suffer a sudden, intense fear that witches live among them. Dozens are arrested; 19 are executed. In China in 1966, zealous students help launch a Cultural Revolution; they “rooted out any trace they could find—or imagine—of capitalism, foreign influence, or bourgeois values” (101). Hundreds of thousands die. In 2015, American college students begin to ferret out signs of ideological impurity among professors, administrators, and visiting speakers; they protest, sometimes violently, and many of the accused are prevented from speaking or teaching.

These group events share four attributes: they arise quickly; they seek out “crimes against the collective” (101); accusations often are trivial or made up; and bystanders are afraid to defend those who are innocent. The involved groups seek purification within their own ranks. Sociologist Albert Bergesen believes that “anything that can be construed as an attack on a group can serve as an opportunity for collective punishment and the enhancement of group solidarity” (105).

In 2017, pro-transgender philosophy professor Rebecca Tuvel publishes, in a respected scholarly journal, an article that discusses the possible connections between transracialism—i.e., people who identify with a race different than their own—and transgenderism. Her work is vilified. An open letter signed by hundreds of academics demands the article’s removal. Others “were quick to chime in, calling the article ‘transphobic,’ ‘violent,’ and an expression of ‘all that is wrong with white feminism’” (105).

One professor says Tuvel “enacts violence and perpetuates harm in numerous ways throughout her essay” (105) by using words such as “transgenderism,” “biological sex,” and “male genitalia” (105). The authors highlight an inherent contradiction: “It is striking how many of the critics’ complaints refer not to Tuvel’s arguments but to her word choices” (105). As Bergesen notes, “petty and insignificant behavioral acts” are seen as “crimes against the [group] as a whole” (106). Many academics, fearing to defend Tuvel, privately commiserate with her, though some also excoriate her in public: “This is precisely what people do during a witch hunt” (107).

In August of 2017, University of Pennsylvania law professor Amy Wax and a colleague publish an article that suggests that “bourgeois culture” (108) may have advantages, especially in child-rearing, education, and job advancement. This breaks the rule that academics are “not supposed to say that a dominant culture is superior to a nondominant one in any way” (108). Dozens of students and faculty condemn them in open statements and “push for an investigation into Wax’s advocacy for white supremacy” (108). None of the protesters rebut any of the arguments in the paper: “They simply ‘condemned’ and ‘categorically rejected’ Wax’s claims” (108).

Academics normally debate each other’s ideas, vetting them for bias in a process called “institutionalized disconfirmation” (109). Professors have always tended to lean left politically, but a “left-to-right ratio of two or three to one should be enough to sustain institutionalized disconfirmation” (110). That ratio begins to shift in the 1990s, reaching five to one as older professors retire and are replaced by younger academics who “were influenced by the great wave of social protests in the 1960s” (111). In fields that include social justice research, the ratio climbs to 10 to 1 and, in social psychology, “reaching seventeen to one by 2016” (111).

This can hamper research: “[W]hen a field lacks political diversity, researchers tend to congregate around questions and research methods that generally confirm their shared narrative” (112); students miss out on diverse viewpoints. Meanwhile, incoming students skew more toward the left than in the past. Such overall uniformity of viewpoint “leaves a community vulnerable to groupthink and orthodoxy” (113).

At Evergreen College near Seattle during May and June of 2017, a “multiethnic group of angry students” (115) stalk and harass biology professor Bret Weinstein, who has expressed concerns about skin color and the right to speak. They then confront the school president, demanding he do something about Weinstein; the president agrees, saying: “[T]hey’re going to say some things we don’t like, and our job is to bring them all in or get ’em out” (116). Protestors call for Weinstein’s firing, and, at one point, hold captive several administrators. Campus police are ordered to stand down; Weinstein is advised not to hold classes on campus.

Hearing of this, alt-right supporters make threats against the students. Some faculty blame Weinstein and call for an investigation of him; Weinstein sues the college “for tolerating, and even endorsing, egregious violations of the student conduct code—including criminal behavior—and for fostering a racially hostile work environment” (118). The case is settled quickly, and Weinstein resigns along with his wife, a fellow professor and one of only two who defend Weinstein publicly. The campus police chief “later made similar charges” (119) and resigns. The college president “announced that he was ‘grateful’ for the ‘passion and courage’ the protesters displayed” (119).

The incident illustrates how witch hunts start abruptly over minor issues, grow quickly into crusades, and intimidate bystanders into silence:

The Evergreen story shows what is possible when political diversity is reduced to very low levels, when the school’s leadership is weak and easily intimidated, and when professors and administrators allow or even encourage the propagation of the three Great Untruths (120).