While I like being a professor, with each passing year I am less likely to recommend this career path. This is not because I fear competition (I am a tenured full professor). It is not because I have turned against my profession to embrace anti-intellectualism or some delusional ideology about “woke” professors. It is not even due to disillusionment. I still believe in education and the value of educators. My real reason is altruism and honesty: I want potential professors to know the truth. I now turn to some reasons why you might not want to become a professor.

First, there is the cost. To be a professor, you will almost always need a terminal degree in the field—typically a Ph.D. You need to start with a bachelor’s degree and college in the United States is more expensive each year. Student debt is at a record high. While a bachelor’s degree is, in general, a great investment, you will need to go on to graduate school.

While graduate school is expensive, many students work as teaching or research assistants. These positions typically for tuition and provide a very modest paycheck.  Since the pay is low and the workload is high, you will at best be in a financial holding pattern for the duration of grad school. After 3-7+ years, you will (if you are persistent and lucky) have that terminal degree.

If you are paying for graduate school, it will be expensive and will add to your debt. You might be able to work a decent job at the same time, but that will probably drag out graduate school.

Regardless of whether you had to pay or not, you will be attempting to start a career after about a decade (or more) in college—so be sure to consider this.

Second, the chances of getting a job are usually not great. While conditions vary, the general trend has been reduced budgets for faculty and increased spending on facilities and administrators. As such, if you are looking for a job in academics, it might be smarter to become an administrator rather than a professor. The salary for administrators is generally better than that of professors, although elite coaches of the prestige sports have the very best salaries.

When I went on the job market in 1993, it was terrible. When I applied for a job, I would get a form letter saying hundreds of people applied and how sorry the search committee was about my not getting an interview. I got my job by chance by being in the right place at the right time. It is thus wise to consider the odds of even getting a job.

Third, universities now often hire people into low-paying adjunct positions which lack benefits and job security.  The average adjunct salary is about $26,500. Starting salaries for professors varies, but are in the $50,000-$77,00 range. This is good, but not as good as what a person with an advanced degree can make outside of academics. Also, it is worth noting that the average salary for someone with just a B.A. is $81,000. By the numbers, if you go for a professorship, the odds are that you will be worse off financially than if you just stuck with a B.A. and went to work. That said, most of us do not become professors for money.

Fourth, the workload of professors is higher than most people think. While administrative, teaching and research loads vary, professors work about 61 hours per week and work on weekends (typically grading, class prep and research).  Thanks to budget cuts and increased enrollment, class sizes have tended to increase or remain high. For example, I typically have 35+ students per classes, with most of my classes being “writing intensive.”

People still tell me that they are envious that professors like me get summers off; the envy deceases when I tell them that this is unpaid “vacation.”. During this off time, a professor is still doing research and class preparation. And administrators seem to struggle with the idea that off-contract faculty are not getting paid, so I and others are still called to do unpaid work in the summer. For example, I am on an AI committee this summer along with other unpaid faculty.

Fifth, the trend at universities is that faculty are expected to do uncompensated administrative work on top of their academic duties (research, teaching, advising, etc.). As one extreme example, one semester I was teaching four classes, advising, writing a book, directing the seven-year program review, completing all the assessment tasks, serving as the philosophy & religion facilitator and serving on nine committees. 

Sixth, while professors were once well-respected, that respect has faded. Some of this is due to politicization of education. Those seeking to cut budgets to lower taxes, to transform education into a for-profit industry, and to break education unions have done an able job demonizing the profession and academics. To be fair and balanced, we professors have dropped the ball by failing to  make the case for our profession in the public arena.

Seventh, while every generation claims that the newer generations are worse, many students now see education as a means to the end of getting a job. Given the economy that our political and financial elites have crafted, this is a sensible and pragmatic approach. However, it has also translated into less student interest. The new model of education, crafted by state legislators, administrators and the business folks is to train the job fillers for the job creators. The current phrase is to make the students “workforce ready” and many universities are going all in on AI.

Finally, the general trend in politics has been one of increased hostility to education, with it being seen as a political battleground and another area for the rich to make profits. It seems likely that higher education will get worse.

But to be fair and balanced, a career as a professor can be a better choice than the alternatives, depending on what you value and what you expect from life. Even today, when people ask me if I would become a professor, I still say “yes.”

 

 

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Having been in academics for quite some time, I have seen fads come, go and stick. Way back in 2004 I witnessed the arrival of assessment at my university. While I initially thought it might be a passing fad, almost a quarter century later I am still serving (in perpetuity) on the General Education Assessment committee and completing yearly assessment plans and reports for Philosophy & Religion. As with all such things, assessment arrived with acronyms and buzz words. Those more cynical than I would say that all acronyms of administrative origin (AAO) amount to B.S. But I would not say such a thing. While I diligently engage in assessment, I am still aware of reasonable concerns about it.

One concern was succinctly put by a fellow philosopher: “you don’t fatten the pig by weighing it.” The criticism behind this homespun remark is that time spent on assessment is time taken from the core function of education, namely education. At the K-12 level, the burden of assessment and evaluation has become quite onerous in many places. At the higher education level, the burden is not as great—but we spend considerable time on it.

A sensible reply is that assessment is both valuable and necessary: if the effectiveness (or ineffectiveness) of education is not assessed, then there would be no way of knowing what is working and what is not. A counter is that educators assessed their efforts before the rise of modern assessment and there is the question as to whether these new efforts have improved education.

Another concern is that in addition to the time spent by faculty on assessment, a bureaucracy of assessment was created. Some schools have entire offices devoted to assessment complete with staff and administrators. With higher education facing financial woes and students confronting ever increasing tuition rates, it could be argued that assessment should be cut in favor of better serving the core mission of the university. A reply is to argue that funding an assessment office is more important to serving the core mission of the university than more faculty or lower tuition would be.

Another common concern is that assessment is part of the micromanagement of public education imposed by state legislatures. These are, unsurprisingly, usually the same legislators who speak loudly about getting government off peoples’ backs and cutting regulations (for business). This, some critics contend, is part of a campaign to discredit and damage public education.

One reply is that a state legislature has the right to insist that public schools provide evidence that the (ever-decreasing) public money is being well spent. If the legislatures showed real concern for the quality of education and were committed to public education, this reply would have considerable merit.

A final concern is that the results of the previous assessment must be applied to improve each academic program, and this seems to rest on an assumption of perpetual improvement. Unfortunately, due to budget cuts and administrative policies, faculty rarely get raises and salary compresence is a serious problem.  So faculty are supposed to better each year, but get paid less because inflation and the rising cost of living reduces the value of the salary each year. As such, the system demands perpetual improvement of faculty and schools, but there are usually no incentives or rewards—other than not getting fired or not being punished. Interestingly, the folks imposing this system claim that taxation and government impositions hurt business. That is, they seem to think it is bad for businesses to have less money and be regulated too much by the state, then it will be bad. This view does not extend to education. But there might be an ironic source of hope as education is being “businessified” and perhaps once the transformation is complete, the universities will get the love showered on corporations.

 

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The United States persists in waging and endless war on drugs and faces ever increasing and problems with higher education. I will reconsider an immodest proposal I made years ago intended to address both problems.

In the case of higher education, one problem is that the cost of education exceeds the resources of many Americans. One reason is that America’s political and economic elites repeatedly blow up the economy and have been engaged in an unrelenting extermination of the middle class. Another reason is the view that higher education has been cast as a private (rather than public) good and is seen by the elites as just another area to exploit for profit. Because of this, funding to public schools has been reduced and funding has been diverted from public schools to costly and ineffective for-profit schools. Yet another reason is that public universities have an ever-expanding administrative burden. Even the darling of academics, STEM, has seen significant cuts in support and public funding.

Through their war on drugs, the rulers have imposed a massive cost on the United States. First, there is the cost of the resources devoted to policing citizens, trying them and incarcerating them for drug crimes. Second, there is the cost of the social and personal damage done to individuals and communities. From the perspective of most citizens, the war on drugs has been a losing fight—mainly because “we have met the enemy and he is us.”

Fortunately, I have a solution to both problems. Years ago, I spoke with an engineering student about Florida State’s various programs aimed at creating businesses and heard a piece on NPR about the financial woes of schools and how faculty and staff were being pushed to be fund-raisers for schools. Unsurprisingly, things are even worse now.

This got me thinking about how universities could generate funding and I remembered a running joke from long ago. Back when universities started to commit to  “businessification, I joked with a running friend (hence a running joke) that we faculty members should become drug lords to fund our research and classes. While I do not think that I should become a drug lord, I would propose that public universities get into the drug business.

States should begin by legalizing marijuana and pass a general law allowing recreational drugs that can be shown to be as safe as tobacco and alcohol (that sets the bar very low).  The main restriction will be that the drugs can only be produced and sold by public universities. All the profits will go directly to the universities, to be used as decided by boards composed of students and faculty. To be realistic, the ruling elites would need to get a cut of this, but I’ll leave the corruption aspects to others.

To implement this plan, faculty and students should be actively involved. Business faculty and students would develop the models, plans and proposals. Design and marketing students and faculty will handle those aspects. Faculty and students in chemistry, biology and medicine will develop the drugs and endeavor to make them safer. Faculty and students in agriculture will see to the growing of the crops, starting with marijuana. Engineering students and faculty will develop hydroponics and other technology.

Once the marijuana and other drugs are available, the universities will sell the products to the public with all profits being used to fund the educational and research aspects of the universities. Since the schools are public universities, the drugs will be tax-free—there is no sense in incurring the extra cost of collecting taxes when the money is going to the schools already. Since schools already have brand marketing, this can be easily tied in. For example, Florida State can sell Seminole Gold and Seminole Garnet marijuana, while my own Florida A&M University can have Rattler Green and Rattler Orange.

One practical objection is that the operation might not be profitable. While this is obviously a reasonable concern, the drug trade can be very profitable. Also, by making such drugs legal, the cost of the war on drugs would drop, thus potentially freeing up resources for education and reducing the harms done to individuals and the community.  So, I am not too worried about this.

One reasonable objection is that drugs are unhealthy. The easy reply is that while this is true, we already tolerate unhealthy products such as tobacco, alcohol, cars and firearms. If these are tolerable, then the drugs sold by the schools (which must be at least as safe as tobacco and alcohol) would also be tolerable. The war on drugs is also very unhealthy—so scaling back the war would be good for public health.

One moral objection is that drugs are immoral. There are three easy replies. The first is that the drugs in question are no more immoral than alcohol and tobacco. If these can be morally tolerated, then so can the university drugs. Second, there is the consequentialist argument: if drugs are going to be used anyway by Americans, it is better that the money go to education rather than ending up in the coffers of criminals, gangs, terrorists and the prison-industrial complex. Third, there is also the consequentialist argument that university produced drugs will be safer and of higher quality than drugs produced by drug lords, gangs, terrorists and criminal dealers. Given the good consequences of legalizing university-manufactured drugs, this plan is clearly morally commendable.

Given the above arguments, having universities as legal drug sellers would clearly help solve two of America’s serious problems: the high cost of education and the higher cost of the ineffective and destructive war on drugs. As my contribution to the brand, I offer the slogan “get high for higher ed.” As you would suspect, I am not good at marketing.

 

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As Stephen Colbert’s current show winds down after being terminated, seemingly at the command of the Trump regime, I thought I’d look back at an episode of the Colbert Report.

Campbell Brown appeared on the July 31, 2014 episode of the Colbert Report to promote her Partnership for Educational Justice filing a legal complaint in Albany aimed at eliminating New York’s teacher tenure laws.  In my previous essay, I discussed the main topic, namely that of the points made in the legal complaint. In this essay, I will discuss some interesting points from Brown’s appearance on the Colbert Report. While a 2014 event might seem like ancient history, her appearance raises some issues that are still relevant today.

When Brown went to the show, she encountered protestors outside the building. Interestingly, she described them as trying to silence her and was critical of their presence. Colbert responded by noting that the protestors were exercising their First Amendment rights.

On the face of it, Brown used a common tactic—accusing critics of wanting to silence those expressing opposing viewpoints and using this as grounds for rejecting, dismissing or ignoring the criticisms. To be fair, some critics do say their opponent should be silenced. Because I accept the right to freedom of expression, I am against the silencing of critics. And, because I am consistent, I also oppose the demands of critics to silence those they criticize. I will admit there are exceptions, but these are just that—the exceptions.

However, it is important to distinguish between protests or criticism and attempts to silence. To protest someone or something is to express a negative view, and this is different from endeavoring to silence someone. For example, someone might have protested Brown’s lawsuit by making a sign and standing by the entrance to the building. This would express a stance against Brown, but unless the person told Brown to stop expressing her views or tried to shout her down, the person was not trying to silence Brown. It must be noted that even if a person would be happy if the target of their criticism did shut up, this is different from trying to silence someone.

To criticize something is to assess and evaluate it, which is different from trying to silence a person. I was myself critical of Brown, but I did not endeavor to silence her.  She had every right to make her claims and express her views, just as I had the right to express my own—even when my claims were critical of her claims. To assess is to not to silence. Even to claim someone is wrong is not to silence them. Saying “you are mistaken” is not the same as saying “shut up.”

That said, the tactic of accusing protestors or critics of trying to silence one does have some rhetorical value. First, it allows a person to dismiss or reject protestors/critics with a lazy ad homimen: “they are just trying to silence me, so their claims have no merit.” Second, it has an emotional appeal in that it casts the protestors or critics as being opposed to freedom of speech. The irony, of course, is that this is an attempt to silence the critics.

Another interesting aspect of the discussion was when Colbert asked Brown about who was funding her group and lawsuit. As Colbert, who once owned his own super PAC noted, it is legal to keep the names of those funding such an organization secret—even when they are actively involved in politics. When pressed a bit, Brown used another common tactic—she claimed that anonymity protects the donors from being harassed. This ties into the previously discussed tactic in which protestors and critics are cast as villains who are trying to silence a person. In this case, the opponents of her views are presumably being presented as the sort of people who would cruelly harass those they disagree with. This would, of course, have cast Brown as a brave hero—she was facing harassment, so the anonymous donors did not have to.

As Colbert noted, not revealing her donors is her legal right. However, the claim that she is keeping them anonymous to protect them from harassment was dubious. While Brown was subject to criticism and was protested, she did not seem to have been subjected to onerous abuse. The anonymous donors would presumably also not be cruelly abused—though they might be criticized.

Those more cynical than I might claim that the donors were concealed for nefarious reasons and there was speculation about who is the money behind the mouth. Those on the left, naturally enough, suspected a right-wing cabal aimed at destroying unions and privatizing education. Those of more moderate views might suspect a bi-partisan group that was aimed at privatizing education for the profit of themselves and their cronies. Some might even take Brown at face value: they backers are sincerely concerned with education reform. But, for some reason, they did not want anyone else to know.

Given her commitment to secrecy, it is ironic that in 2013 Brown created the Parents’ Transparency Project which was claimed to be aimed at bringing transparency to the negotiation process involving teachers’ unions.

This situation did raise the larger issue of secret funding. On the one hand, it could be argued that people have a right to privacy when it comes to their legal, financial and political machinations. On the other hand, secret money has at least two negative impacts. The first is that it has a corrosive effect on the openness that is supposed to the hallmark of democratic systems. The second is that it keeps the public in ignorance—knowing who is backing which candidates, causes and lawsuits seems is important for making informed decisions. Of course, it can be countered that the public does not need to know this, that it should not matter who is really funding something as they hide behind patriotic or positive sounding fronts.

Back in 2014, I was for transparency in such funding. First, I thought that such secret money is contrary to the openness that is critical to a democratic system.  I still think that. I thought that secret money deals were appropriate for oligarchies and corrupt states, but hardly suitable for what is supposed to be an open democracy. Now, in 2026, I can see that the United States has become an open oligarchy, with open corruption. While there anonymous funding is still a thing, it seems less important now given this open corruption.

Second, I believe that people should take responsibility for their beliefs and actions—being able to influence without accountability is morally unacceptable. I still believe this, although the open and unpunished corruption of today shows that some can engage in open corruption with no accountability.

Third, there is the matter of courage—only a coward hides behind anonymity when there is no real danger beyond people knowing what a person is backing. I still think this, but now some feel safe engaging in open corruption.

 

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The Republican dominated state legislature in my adopted state of Florida has been passing anti-union laws, the latest targeting public unions. The law excludes police and firefighter unions, with some noting that the difference is that these unions tend to support Republicans. As of this writing, I am a member of the United Faculty of Florida, which is a union for faculty. But my chapter of the union might cease to exist under the new law. But this war on educational unions is not new and I am taking this opportunity to look back to 2014 for an earlier battle in this war.

Back in July, 2014 Campbell Brown announced her Partnership for Educational Justice filed a legal complaint in Albany. This complaint aimed at eliminating New York’s teacher tenure laws. It was claimed that the tenure laws interfere with the right of children to a sound education.

This was not Brown’s first rodeo. In 2013 Brown asserted that her Parents’ Transparency Project was aimed at bringing transparency to the negotiation process involving teachers’ unions. During this campaign Brown asserted that the union is “…a system that protects teachers who engage in sexual misconduct.” Brown ran into some conflict of interest issues in regards to this group and there were concerns about the anonymous funding behind it: as a 501(c)(4) nonprofit, PTP can legally keep its donors secret and engage in political spending. As should be no surprise, critics saw it as an attempt at union busting. To promote the lawsuit, Brown appeared on the July 31, 2014 episode of the Colbert Report—having faced protestors outside the show.

I did agree with some of Brown’s claims. First, I agree that children are entitled to a sound basic education. Her critics contend that her actual interest was in busting the unions at the behest of those bankrolling her efforts. While Brown’s actual motives are a point of interest, they are logically irrelevant to the merit of her claims and arguments. However, Colbert did raise a relevant criticism: if Brown was concerned that children receive a sound education and for educational equality, then her goals would have been better served by focusing on educational inequality, such as the extreme disparity in education funding. To be fair to Brown, it can be reasonable to focus on one issue and leave other issues to others. For example, it would be unreasonable to attack a person who is focused on fighting lung cancer for not dedicating their time to also fighting breast cancer. That said, this can also be used in bad faith as rhetorical cover. For example, a person who claims to be policing library book “for the children” might deflect a question about why they do not support school lunch programs by saying that their focus in on books. They could, obviously, also speak briefly in favor for school lunch programs even if they are focused on other matters.

Second, I did agree with her view of seniority. Schools sometimes follow a “first in, last out” policy. The problem is that merely being at a school a long time does not mean a person is a good teacher. I believe that employment should be, in general, based on competence and seniority is not a mark of competence, I favor a different approach. That said, experience can improve a teacher’s abilities, and I am a much better professor than I was I was fresh out of graduate school). However, improved abilities should be discernible in job performance and not just by looking at the calendar. Naturally, a rational case can be made for seniority—but I believe that all such cases must rest on the connection between experience and ability.

Third, I had some sympathy for her view that three years is not enough time to earn tenure After all, tenure at the university level requires six years (and, at my university, involves a yearlong review process starting in the department and ending with the university President). The easy and obvious counter is that teaching at a university requires an advanced degree (which requires 5+ years beyond the bachelor’s degree required to teach K-12), so having a shorter tenure period at K-12 schools is reasonable. So, my view is that this can be debated—but this should be done in good faith.

Fourth, I agreed with her view that tenure laws should not make it nearly impossible to fire ineffective or dangerous teachers. Tenure, as I see it, is supposed to ensure that teachers or professors can only be fired for cause and through due process. It is not so that teachers or professors can never be fired. At the college level, this is obviously connected to defending academic freedom. At the K-12 level, academic freedom might not be seen as being as great a concern. But there is a reasonable concern about protecting teachers from the vagaries of ideology, politics and such. To illustrate, tenure can be useful for protecting biology teachers from being fired because some people disbelieve in evolution or believe that vaccines cause autism. In the light of events during the second Trump regime, the need to protect teachers is even more obvious. Being consistent, I also hold that tenured conservative teachers should be protected, should “the left” undertake efforts for ideological purging. But I must note that what counts as ideological purging can be contentious. For example, a biology teacher who taught students that dinosaur bones are fake and that transgender people are possessed by demons would seem to be someone who shouldn’t be teaching. But some might argue that firing them would be a woke purge.

Brown’s view did get some psychological support from the common misconception that tenure means a teacher cannot be fired. However, tenure does not make one immune to being fired, just that due process must be used. It would be hard to defend the view that it is fine for schools to fire a teacher for any reason without any due process. After all, such firings would be (by definition) unjustified. It is, however, easy to defend the view that even a tenured teacher should be fired for being ineffective and certainly for being dangerous.

The problem is not with the general principle of tenure. If there is a problem, it would seem to lie in the process that is used and perhaps any rules that would keep the ineffective or dangerous in their jobs. The fix to this would not be the elimination of tenure, but a change in the process so that teachers are protected from unjustified dismissal and students are protected from ineffective or dangerous teachers. The system will never be perfect—but that is an unreasonable standard.

Academic freedom is usually taken as being more than merely the right to freely make specific claims in that it is supposed to provide broad protection in such matters as selecting books, developing curriculum and so on. It is also supposed to protect professors (tenured professors at least) from being unjustly fired or punished for expressing their views. It is, of course, not a license to act without consequences.

While defending academic freedom is often seen as leftist, conservatives have accused the left of restricting the academic freedom of conservative thinkers. While this claim is often hyperbole, there have been past incidents of faculty being punished for holding views that are regarded as politically incorrect. For example, Mike Adams was apparently once denied promotion to full professor based on his political engagement rather than a lack of qualifications. There were past proposals to replace academic freedom with academic justice.  While justice sounds good, the proposal was to substitute an ideological test in place of the general right. In short, academics could research what they wished, if it was consistent with the definition of “justice” in use. There were also proposals for trigger warnings, which also raised concerns about academic freedom. The right, in general, criticized such things and professed to favor freedom. As such, one might think that when they came into power, they would push for freedom.

One specific problem of academic freedom arises for state colleges and universities. While even for-profit schools receive money from the government, state schools receive funding as decided by the state legislature. While academic institutes, they are subject to the control of the state government.

Given that the state government is (in theory) acting in accord with the “will of the people” and that the schools are funded with state money, it is not unreasonable to believe that the state has the right to impose a degree of control over the schools. An important question is the extent to which the state should impose on academic freedom. As might be guessed, people answer this question based largely on their ideology.

As noted above, some of the loudest voices crying out for academic freedom were once on the right. Or rather, those crying out for freedom for certain views. When Republicans have power, they tend to pass laws that restrict freedom. For example, Florida’s state legislature has been busy reshaping the general education of the state schools. The law includes a ban on teaching “identity politics”, it forbids teaching that “systemic racism, sexism, oppression, and privilege are inherent in the institutions of the United States” but requires that humanities courses must include selections from the Western canon (even, for example, a GENED class on Japanese literature). And, of course, the Trump regime, which professes to love freedom, has been very busy intimidating universities to push them to conform to his will.

This view of freedom is not surprising. As Mill noted in his classic work on liberty, people rarely make decisions on liberty based on a consistent principle about what should be allowed and what should be restricted. Instead, people decide based on what they like and dislike. As such, it is hardly a shock that folks on the left and right praise freedom when it is protecting something they like while they are happy to restrict freedom when it involves something they dislike.

While the law is whatever those in power say it is, there is still the question of whether the state has the right to make such impositions. As noted above, one way to argue is that since the state funds them and they are public institutions, then the state government has the right to dictate to the universities in such matters as the content of their courses.

If this line of reasoning is good, then this would be a general principle and not one just limited to the Republicans wanting to purge “woke” content and DEI. So, if a state legislature passed laws forbidding teaching business courses or courses in religion, then that would be acceptable under this principle. It would also be acceptable for a law to be passed banning the teaching of Western history, Western values, anything that is seen as endorsing the patriarchy, and anything that is positive about white males and so on. That is, this principle would allow any state to impose any ideology onto the state schools.

Republicans would, one can infer, adamantly oppose to the ideology of their opposition setting the content for public schools. As such, it is probably fair to say that they do not have a general principle about the degree of state control over state schools but rather think that the schools should teach what Republicans like and not teach what they do not like—which is hardly a principle. In my own case, I follow a consistent principle of academic freedom and hence just as I oppose Florida mandating that GENED classes must not teach that “systemic racism, sexism, oppression, and privilege are inherent in the institutions of the United States”, I would also oppose a law that required GENED classes to teach this.

 

 

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A longtime issue in college athletics has been whether college athletes should be paid. I heard debates over this when I was a college athlete and, decades later, I still hear them. One addition to the debate has been over branding deals, such as the use of likenesses in video games.

One classic argument is that in the big money sports (football and basketball) the athletes already receive compensation in the form of scholarships, coaching, medical care, etc. Given the cost of higher education, a full scholarship can be worth $27,000 a year or more.

Even athletes in the other sports (such as track, cross country, field hockey and volleyball) can receive compensation in the form of scholarships, coaching, and medical care—although they usually get much less than the star athletes in the big money sports.

Following this reasoning, it can be claimed that college athletes have always been paid—in that they receive valuable compensation for their contributions. In fact, college athletes have been recognized as being employees with the right to unionize. As such, the dispute is over the amount and nature of the desired compensation, which is a classic employee-employer dispute.

Obviously enough, the NCAA and colleges want to keep player compensation as low as possible, since the less the athletes are paid, the more everyone else gets to keep. However, the fact that they would rather not provide better compensation is not proof that athletes should not receive more. 

While the NCAA and colleges have been on board with specific sorts of compensation (such as scholarships), they have often been very draconian about college athletes receiving other benefits. Based on my own experience at road races, college athletes were forbidden from accepting gift certificates they won. While the NCAA and the college can license the likeness of a player for use in a video game, athletes were not allowed to share in the profits.  Because of these practices, most of the money made in college sports flowed to the NCAA and the colleges, rather than the athletes.

On the face of it, athletes should receive compensation commensurate with their contribution. For example, if a player’s likeness is licensed for use in a video game, they should receive a suitable percentage of that deal. As another example, if selling the TV rights to football games brings in millions of dollars, the players who appear on TV should get a proportional cut. Obviously, the value of what the players receive in terms of other compensation must be factored in as well as part of their pay.

In some cases, the athletes might have been receiving fair compensation. However, the star athletes in the big money sports were probably being exploited.  

Over the years, the main argument advanced by the NCAA and colleges for not providing commensurate compensation is based on the view that a college athlete should be an amateur who competes “for the love of the sport.”

This has some appeal. When I was a college athlete, I competed for that reason—I loved to race. I still do, although I am much slower.  In terms of compensation, I did get some shoe money and boxed lunches when we traveled. I understand the idea of the amateur athlete who is not sullied by crass commerce nor driven by greed.

Of course, the true amateur athlete who is unsullied by greed must also be in an amateur environment driven by the love of the sport. When I was a college athlete, I was in that situation. I competed in cross country and track, both of which are not big money sports. I also went to a division III school—so there were no athletic scholarships. The coaches at the college generally followed the same model that is usually seen at public high schools—they had a primary job at the school and coaching was secondary. For example, my first cross-country coach was also an exercise physiology professor. The football coach also taught classes. So, we were all amateurs competing for the love of the sport—although we did get those boxed lunches and the coaches got some pay.

When everyone is an amateur and the compensation is modest it makes sense to not pay athletes and to hold them to the standards of being an amateur athlete (versus being a paid professional). However, this is not the case with the big money sports at the big schools.

First, the top coaches enjoy truly impressive salaries. The top coaches can make millions each year.  Interestingly, the highest paid public employee in some states is a college football or basketball coach.

Second, college football is a multi-billion-dollar industry and college basketball brings in millions for the colleges and NCAA. While the players did get some of this in the form of scholarships and other compensation, the bulk of it goes to others. A cynical person might note that this is a good lesson for the student athletes: the workers do the work and others reap the profits.

Given the money involved, these college sports are not amateur in any meaningful sense and it is not defined by a love of the game. Rather, this is a big money industry in which those doing most of the work receive very little while very few benefit greatly from their efforts. In short, college sports mirror the larger society. The lie that was long used to avoid justly compensating athletes was that they are amateurs who are supposed to play for the love of the game. Thus, there has been an inconsistency between the reality of the situation and what is expected of the athletes.

There is the option to make the ideal a reality and recreate college sports as amateur sports played for the love of sport. This would require following the model of amateur athletics I mentioned above: minimal compensation for everyone, coaches who are professors (or staff) first, athletes who are students first, no big money deals, and so on. Some schools already follow this ideal, such as the school I attended.

There is also the option to accept that big money sports are professional sports, and they should follow that model: the big money remains, but the athletes are recognized for what they really are—professional athletes.

 

 

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Back in 2014 Michelle Goldberg published a thoughtful essay on the campus rape crisis in the Nation. As one would suspect, the crisis persists and under the Trump regime it might worsen as the new rules are alleged to protect the accused more than the survivors.

When a student is alleged to have sexually assaulted another student, the assault can be reported to the police or brought to the attention of the college (or both). For legal (and moral) reasons, colleges should not ignore such reports.

While colleges vary, it is common practice for colleges to handle allegations of sexual assault like academic misconduct hearings: a hearing is held with a panel composed of faculty members and administrators. Since the panel is not a court of law, it cannot impose criminal or civil penalties as an actual court could. Rather, the panel typically decides whether the accused student should be subject to disciplinary action, with the highest penalty usually being expulsion. As might be imagined, there are some obvious problems with this approach.

The first is a practical problem: while many schools do have their own police forces, faculty and administrators are generally not trained to investigate and judge sexual assaults. In my own case, I am a philosophy professor, not a detective, lawyer, or CSI professional. I would, if I was assigned to such a panel, do my best—just as a detective or lawyer somehow assigned to teach my class would presumably do their best.

There seem to be two main solutions to this problem. One, which seems the most sensible, would be for colleges to cede authority over these crimes to the legal system. That is, the role of the college would be to assist in reporting the crime to the police. Naturally, the college can also have an important role in providing support. There is, however, the concern that such crimes are not always properly addressed by the authorities.

The other would be for the college to ensure that those handling the incidents are trained professionals. This could be done by hiring such professionals or by training faculty and administrators to handle such cases. This would run into the practical concern about cost.

The second is a practical problem with a moral component. A college has a vested interest in protecting its reputation and protecting itself legally and financially. In a practical sense, this leads to a conflict of interest that could influence the rulings of a panel. In a moral sense, this can lead to justice not being done.

As before, there seem to be two solutions to the problem. One is to remove the handling of such cases from colleges. The other is to take steps to ensure that such internal panels act for the sake of justice rather than trying to protect the reputation of the college. I would say that the former option is the better choice.

The third is a moral problem with two aspects. One aspect is that survivors sometimes report that a college’s handling of their situation is yet another violation—a traumatic and harmful experience rather than professionally conducted justice. Obviously, subjecting someone to such an awful experience is morally wrong. The second aspect is that alleged perpetrators sometimes report that the college’s handling of the situation is a kangaroo court devoid of due process. While these might seem inconsistent, the experience could be both a trauma for the accuser and a kangaroo court for the accused.

Once again, there would seem to be two solutions. One is to have such cases handled by the actual legal system. There is, however, the problem that it is not uncommon for the legal system to handle sexual assault cases badly, which is yet another matter of moral concern and a serious problem. Some have even argued that colleges should continue to handle such cases because the legal system has failed so badly. That is, colleges might be bad, but they are sometimes better than the legal system. This points to the need to address the legal system—there is little sense in handing off such cases to a system that is no better or even worse.

The second is to rework the college system to try to ensure that it operates with proper respect while also ensuring that the alleged perpetrators are given a fair hearing. This would prove challenging—but it is a challenge that must be met if colleges are to continue in this role. If the legal system is doing a poor job, then it would be even more important for colleges to revamp their systems.

The third is a moral problem with legal aspects. As many critics of the current system have noted, there is the moral and legal concern with the basis for the college’s authority to handle these cases. As the usual argument goes, colleges do not handle cases in which a student murders another student—that is turned over to the police. By analogy, the same should apply to sexual assault—which is a crime. While a college does have academic authority over students as well as a degree of disciplinary authority, a college would seem to lack the legal and moral sovereignty needed to claim authority over a serious crimes (even if it had the resources and competence to run its own legal system). As such, a college would seem to be overreaching its authority. That said, there can still be a legitimate role for colleges to play in such matters.

While a college should not have the authority to impose criminal (or even civil) punishments on students, it does have some legitimate authority. A college should have a clearly defined sphere of authority based on the agreement between the student and the institution, as spelled out in the rules and policies of the college. The college also has the legitimate authority to impose certain penalties within a very limited sphere. The outer limit of these penalties is, of course, expulsion from the university.

Such authority is intended to allow colleges to some control over student behavior—after all, without the capacity to punish, authority means little. There is also the purpose of maintaining a safe and non-threatening learning environment. This is what justifies punishing students who disrupt this environment. In some cases, maintaining this environment can require expelling students.

Because of this legitimate function, a college can justly claim the right to hold a hearing for a student accused of sexual assault. However, this should not be in place of a criminal trial. Rather, it should be in addition to the criminal trial. The purpose of the college hearing would be to determine whether the alleged perpetrator should be, in addition to whatever punishment imposed by the legal system, subject to discipline by the college.

While it might be tempting to insist that an alleged perpetrator who is found innocent by a court of law should also be exempt from college discipline, it must be remembered that the requirements of a criminal court are (supposed to be) very rigorous, with an assumption of innocence and a standard of proof set at beyond a reasonable doubt.

It can be argued that the standard of proof for a college disciplinary hearing should be lower than that of a criminal court (as civil courts have a lower standard of proof). After all, the standard should be higher when a person might spend years in jail as opposed to being disciplined by a college. For example, an incident might be such that it seems reasonable to believe that something bad occurred, yet the evidence is not enough to establish proof beyond a reasonable doubt. In such a case, an alleged perpetrator might avoid jail yet perhaps be justly expelled from college.

If this view is accepted, then there are the practical and moral problems of determining the standards of evidence and the appropriate punishments. Some colleges accept a weak standard—that of “more likely than not.” That is, if the panel members  believe that it is more likely that the alleged perpetrator committed the misdeed than did not, then the person is guilty. As might be imagined, some critics see it as far too weak and in stark contrast with the usual principle that it is better for the guilty to go unpunished than for the innocent to be unjustly punished.

There is also controversy over punishments.  It could be argued that even the worst punishment that a college can offer (most likely expulsion) would not be enough. While this might be true, it would not be a good reason to grant colleges more power to punish—after all, if the punishments were sufficiently severe, then the standards would need to be equally high. It can also be said that some punishments, such as expulsion, would be too harsh given the weak standard.

It must be noted that sorting out the standard and the punishments is distinct from the issue of whether a college has legitimate authority to discipline students accused of sexual assault. A college has the authority to impose disciplinary action even on a student found not guilty by a criminal court—much as a civil court can impose a penalty on someone found not guilty by a criminal court. However, I have not given sufficient thought to the standard to be used and the punishments that would be just. It might be the case that the punishment should be linked to the standard, the weaker the standard, the weaker the punishment.

It can also be argued that there is behavior that is not covered by the law but can be justly covered by a college’s policies. For example, cheating on tests is usually not a criminal offense, but it does provide grounds for discipline in a college setting. Likewise, some sexual behavior might not be considered criminal yet still be legitimately regarded as problematic enough to warrant discipline from a college. That is, the behavior is not illegal, but not tolerable behavior for a student. To use an analogy, some colleges have dress codes that forbid attire that would not violate the laws relating to public indecency.

To close, colleges should obviously not be handling criminal cases; these should be turned over to the police and the actual legal system. However, colleges can legitimately hold hearings on allegations of sexual assault and subject students to disciplinary action up to and including expulsion. There are, however, important practical and moral considerations that must be addressed and these include:

 

  • Ensuring the competence and impartiality of the college panel members conducting the investigation and hearing.
  • Ensuring that the standard of proof adopted (such as “more likely than not”) is just.
  • Ensuring that the punishments are just.
  • Ensuring that the applications of the standards and punishments are just.
  • Ensuring that both the alleged perpetrator and purported victim are treated with respect and get due process.

 

If these considerations can be properly addressed, then such a system can be legitimately regarded as just—at least within the specific context.

 

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I, as discussed in the previous essay on this subject, believe students have a right to know the contents of a class in advance and that I am, as a professor, bound by the requirements of civility and compassion. Professors should inform students about potentially upsetting material in their classes. That said, I have some concerns about the imposition of guidance upon faculty. I am especially concerned when the state imposes ideological mandates forbidding and requiring content; this goes far beyond any imposition of trigger warning requirements.

One concern is that guidance might strike some as based on what was called “politically correct” ideology. Nowadays the right would call it “woke”, although that terms seems to have no clear meaning to them beyond denoting what they dislike.  While claims about the dominance of wokeness in academics are overblown, guides that appear based on ideology could be used to criticize the academy. That said, many states (such as my adopted state of Florida) mandate ideological content in GENED classes in state colleges.

An obvious counter is to contend that such guides are not politically correct impositions and to see them as such would be overblown suspicion. Another obvious counter is that such guidance is ideologically neutral and merely aims at protecting students from trauma. Even if trigger warnings were imposed by a university, this is radically different from imposed or forbidden ideological content.  A third counter is that the classroom is a suitable place for the imposition of ideology onto a captive audience; the fight in some states could be seen as being over who gets to impose their ideology.

While this might seem naïve, I think that the classroom should not serve as a place of ideological indoctrination, even when the ideology is my own. As a philosopher, my objective is to teach students how to think and not to preach to them. That said,  someone might say it is a contradiction to instill the principles of academic inquiry and learning while maintaining that ideologies should not be imposed in the classroom. After all, it might be argued that such things as honesty, respect, reason, and intellectual curiosity are ideological in nature.

A second concern is that while guiding faculty about trigger warnings is not imposing a restriction on academic freedom it does do at least two negative things. One is that it makes a value judgment about the material and implies that such material is not suitable for all students. As such, it seems to suggest that faculty should, perhaps, not include it. Another is that it is the first trickle in what might grow into a stream that erodes academic freedom. To lay out the progression, it is not unreasonable to see guidelines gradually evolve into suggestions which then, over a few years, become actual restrictions. As such, it seems sensible to stop the trickle well before the possible flood.

The obvious reply to this concern is that it the feared evolution might never take place—that is, there would be no expansion from guidance to “ism based” restrictions on what faculty are permitted to include. This is a reasonable point in that to simply assume that the slide must be inevitable would be to fall into a slippery slope fallacy. That said, there does seem to be a clear and reasonable path from guidance to actual restriction and thus this is still a matter of legitimate concern.

While my old concern was with an imposition from “the left” what has occurred under Republican rule is an ideological imposition from the right, including weaponizing federal funding to compel universities to comply with an ideology. While some claim the right is being hypocritical given their professed love of freedom, one can only properly understand the right once one understands how their concepts differ from the usual meanings of such terms. They do not oppose the imposition of ideologies, in principle. Rather, they oppose what they see as the imposition of what they perceive as an ideology other than their own.

A third point of concern is a practical one, namely that students might exploit trigger warnings s. As some examples, students might use trigger warnings as an excuse to skip classes, avoid work, or as a way to get a higher grade (based on an appeal to emotional trauma). It would be difficult to prove that a student was exploiting trigger warnings. There is also the concern since trigger sensitivity is linked to various –isms a professor who decided to question a student’s triggers could find themselves accused of various –isms (such as sexism or racism). Professors also generally prefer not to delve too deeply into the emotional issues of students—we are, after all, generally not trained therapists or counselors and professionalism requires a certain emotional distance.

One objection is that students would not exploit such trigger warnings. The obvious counter is that some certainly would. While not a trigger warning case, the 2025 University of Oklahoma essay controversy shows how a student could exploit accusations of -isms.  Another objection is that a system could be created to verify triggers to ensure that excuses are legitimate. While this would be possible, this would entail more bureaucracy and still would not do much to deter exploitation.

A third objection is that allowing some students to exploit the system is an acceptable price to pay to allow students to avoid triggering material. This might be true—although it does raise the question of whether avoiding triggering material is a legitimate reason to miss class, etc. 

It could also be countered that the avoidance of trigger material would not provide a legitimate excuse for missing class, avoiding certain coursework, etc. While this is possible, one might wonder about the value of trigger warnings—that is, there would seem to be something odd in acknowledging that something is potentially traumatic enough that people must be warned while also holding that students are not excused if they elect to avoid the potential trauma. It could be countered that the purpose of the warning is not to allow avoidance but to allow students the chance to be prepared for the incoming trauma. This could be good enough, although it does invite a debate about the value of trigger warnings.

In closing, I do agree that students should be informed about course content and that a professor should be polite and compassionate about letting students know about potentially traumatic material. However, I do have concerns about administrators imposing guidelines and mandating trigger warnings. I have far greater concerns about the ideological impositions of the state, which does illustrate how the “left” and “right” differ in the context of academics in the United States.

 

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A trigger warning, in the context of a university class, is a notification that class content might be upsetting or cause a PTSD response. While warning people about potentially disturbing content is an old one, the more recent intellectual foundations of trigger warnings lie in the realm of feminist thought. While the political right generally does not favor trigger warnings, the return of Trump and the triumph of the right has resulted in state-imposed restrictions on class content. My adopted state of Florida has imposed ideological requirements on the content of GENED classes. Some content is forbidden, some permitted and others (such as the Western canon) are mandated by the power of the state.

Years ago, some colleges considered requests from students for trigger warnings. Oberlin briefly posted a guide: professors should warn students about anything that would “disrupt a student’s learning” and “cause trauma.” The guide also urged professors to “be aware of racism, classism, sexism, heterosexism, cissexism, ableism, and other issues of privilege and oppression. Realize that all forms of violence are traumatic, and that your students have lives before and outside your classroom, experiences you may not expect or understand.”

As a concrete example, the guide used Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe as an example. While noting that it is a “triumph of literature that everyone in the world should read,” the guide warned that it could “trigger readers who have experienced racism, colonialism, religious persecution, violence, suicide and more.” At Rutgers, a student proposed that the Great Gatsby be labeled with a trigger warning because of “a variety of scenes that reference gory, abusive and misogynistic violence.” Interestingly, the right has professed it also wants to protect students from distressful content; however, their approach is to restrict or ban such content rather than warning students.

While I defend academic freedom, I agree that professors should inform students about content that might be traumatic, offensive or disturbing. I base my view on two principles. The first is that students have a right to know the class content so they can make an informed decision. That is why I make my course material readily available and routinely respond to emails from students inquiring about content. I am not worried that my course content will shock or traumatize students—I tend to use readings from thinkers such as Aristotle, Lao Tzu, Wollstonecraft, King, Plato, Locke, and Descartes. Hardly traumatic or shocking stuff. While I think students should leave their comfort zones, students should do this as a matter of conscious choice and not by being ambushed because they have no idea what the course contains. While I am suspicious of the motives of the state of Florida, I do agree with the new policy that syllabi must be publicly available long before the semester begins. For those familiar with the “free” state of Florida, it will come as no surprise that that our syllabi are reviewed for words the state forbids. I’m not a fan of that ideological policing, but I am glad potential students can see the syllabus well before they need to register. It might, in fact, be the only time they glance at the syllabus.

It might be countered that students should be forced out of their comfort zones and keeping them ignorant of class content is a legitimate way to do this. In reply, while I think education should force students out of their comfort zones, the correct way to do this is not by keeping the students ignorant of what they are getting into. After all, they do have the right to select their classes based on an informed choice. And the more information the better. Most of my classes are, for example, available on YouTube and students can see the content for themselves. I also make notes and PowerPoints readily available.

Obviously, informing students of content is distinct from explicit warnings about content. For example, letting the students know that class will include a showing of Deliverance would not inform those ignorant of the movie that it contains a rape scene and violence.

It can be contended that students should be proactive about checking content and the professor’s obligation ends with simply listing the content. To use an analogy, food labels should list ingredients, but it is up to the consumer to do some research, especially if they have allergies. As the Oberlin guide noted, professors might have no idea what might trigger someone—and warning about the unknown can be challenging. It would be like knowing every food allergy and including a warning for each, just in case.

The second principle is my commitment to the virtues of politeness, civility and compassion. While my classes do not contain material that could be sensibly regarded as traumatizing, if I were to include such material I would be obliged to warn the students. Just as when I have people over for dinner and do not know whether they are vegetarians (vegans always tell me they are vegans), I am careful to indicate which dishes contain meat. I also inquire about possible allergies. While I have no food allergies and I am an omnivore (with some moral exceptions, like veal), I recognize that this is not true of everyone and being a good and civil host requires considering others. As such, if I taught a class on morality and war and decided I needed to include graphic images or video, I would let students know ahead of time.

It might be countered that a professor is exempt from the normal rules of civility on the grounds that they have a right to push students out of their intellectual comfort zones (as a coach can push athletes). This does have some appeal—but I tend to think that courtesy is consistent with presenting an intellectual challenge to the students.

That said, I do acknowledge an obvious problem with the subjectivity of the emotional effect of content. What might have no effect on me might revive old traumas for others or offend them. However, one of the responsibilities of being a professional is being able to make judgments about proper content. We can err in this—obviously. However, if I am competent enough to teach a class, then I should be competent enough to distinguish what I should warn students about and what I should not. Admitting, of course, that I could get it wrong. While I am willing to seek guidance in this matter from others, I have moral concerns about imposed guidance and stronger concerns about state imposed ideological mandates.

 

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