Legal Commentary

I share many of the gentler criticisms of Rick's post.  In particular, I think it is kind of a mug's game to describe oneself either as an "intellectual" or an "anti-intellectual."  Just as the Moneylaw folks are always on about performance over credentials, so I would say that describing oneself as intellectual or anti-intellectual -- indeed, the whole act of self-labelling -- is less interesting than what one actually does.  In that case, as a number of commenters pointed out, by most people's lights Rick should be considered an intellectual.  Then the real questions are how we're defining the word and which self-styled intellectuals he dislikes.  Surely "show, don't tell," should be our approach.  So I don't think it's much worth spending time pinning one label or another on myself; after I die, you can tote up my words and deeds and render your judgment on my tombstone better than I can now anyway.

I do want to say something about Patrick's interesting comment in the discussion of Rick's post.  I will leave the discussions of Sartre, and the kinds of things that his definition of being an "intellectual" led him to do, to Tony Judt and others.  I do want to say that when Patrick says that Sartre's view that intellectuals have a duty to encourage "technicians of practical knowledge within the under-privileged classes, since these classes cannot themselves produce them" can be "massively misunderstood," he might be wrong.  Perhaps we understand perfectly well what Sartre meant. 

But my quarrel is with Patrick's larger description of the duties of the intellectual.  I am here somewhat conflating "intellectual" and "academic," and it is dangerous to do so.  So let me refer to "Intellectuals -- Academic Division."  I have always rather thought, and expressed that thought, that as an academic, intellectual or otherwise, it's sort of my job to be the first one up against the wall when the revolution comes -- no matter what side it comes from.  Not because I am a defender of the status quo, but because my role is to understand and critique everything, including both the status quo and revolutionary movements.  It is not to be an intellectual vanguard of the revolution, or a conservative bulwark.  And it is certainly not to pretend that I am engaging in self-styled "acts of resistance."  Such "acts "are in any event usually both vain and self-serving and constitute neither "acts" nor "resistance" -- unless you have an unusually great capacity to kid yourself about the revolutionary implications of reading Bourdieu (or writing Bourdieu, for that matter).  It's not my job, as an academic, to give a damn about the "masses" as such -- or the elite either.  It's not my job to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable, or vice versa.  It's my job to try to understand things and describe them, and perhaps contribute to understanding them more clearly or in a different way.  If that leads to reform, great; if it doesn't, fine; if it galvanizes the "masses," swell; if it drives them to soul-crushing despair, that's OK too.

I'm not knocking any of that stuff, exactly.  Folks around here talk about norm entrepreneurs or moral entrepreneurs from time to time, and they are an essential force in this world, for good and ill.  Some of them are even intellectuals.  But I'm not sure we should confuse one with the other -- their being intellectuals is, it seems to me, largely incidental to the fact that they're also norm entrepreneurs. Similarly, seeking and working for social change (or social conservation) is fine; but I'm not sure it's specifically an intellectual duty, and I'm fairly sure that it's not specifically an academic duty.  It is a model that some academics pursue, but it is not the only model of being an academic.  Some would argue that it is not a good model; and I think there are even decent arguments that it is entirely incidental to and perhaps even contrary to the academic model, although I wouldn't go that far.  Suffice it to say that in most cases, the primary duty of the academic and/or intellectual is truth-telling; making the world better will usually be only incidental to that duty. Again, I'm not knocking saving the world, and I'd be perfectly happy to do so; but as an academic, I think it should be considered a secondary or incidental function.

I'm sure I'll find much to disagree with when it comes out, but the title of Stanley Fish's forthcoming book comes to mind: Save the World on Your Own Time.  See the product description from Amazon below.         

What should be the role of our institutions of higher education? To promote good moral character? To bring an end to racism, sexism, economic oppression, and other social ills? To foster diversity and democracy and produce responsible citizens?

In Save the World On Your Own Time, Stanley Fish argues that, however laudable these goals might be, there is but one proper role for the academe in society: to advance bodies of knowledge and to equip students for doing the same. When teachers offer themselves as moralists, political activists, or agents of social change rather than as credentialed experts in a particular subject and the methods used to analyze it, they abdicate their true purpose. And yet professors now routinely bring their political views into the classroom and seek to influence the political views of their students. Those who do this will often invoke academic freedom, but Fish argues that academic freedom, correctly understood, is the freedom to do the academic job, not the freedom to do any job that comes into the professor's mind. He insists that a professor's only obligation is "to present thematerial in the syllabus and introduce students to state-of-the-art methods of analysis. Not to practice politics, but to study it; not to proselytize for or against religious doctrines, but to describe them; not to affirm or condemn Intelligent Design, but to explain what it is and analyze its appeal."

Given that hot-button issues such as Holocaust denial, free speech, and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict are regularly debated in classrooms across the nation, Save the World On Your Own Time is certain to spark fresh debate-and to incense both liberals and conservatives-about the true purpose of higher education in America.