During Trump’s first term, a New Jersey teacher was accused of bringing politics into the classroom in the form of an anti-Trump t-shirt. In his second term, Trump’s administration has aggressively targeted education and this includes the threat to eliminate the Department of Education. As such, it makes sense that educators feel threatened and might be tempted to respond within their classrooms. As a professor at a state university, I am both an educator and a public employee and these two roles can conflict because of the distinct duties of each.
An educator at a state institution is a public employee. While being a state employee does not rob a person of their right to free expression, it does impose limitations on this right above and beyond the usual moral limits. As an example of the usual moral limits, there is a popular example about not having the right to yell about a non-existent fire in a crowded theatre.
As public employees are paid by the taxpayers to do a job, it is reasonable that they do not have the right to express political views to the public while working. As an analogy, I do not have the right to sell my books to students during class. Likewise, I do not have the right to try to sell my politics to students during class. There is also the matter of professionalism: while I am on the clock, I am representing my institution and not myself. As such, I am morally obligated to distinguish between my own views and those of the institution.
It might be objected that elected public officials, such as Governor DeSantis of my adopted state of Florida, use their offices for political activities that benefit themselves and their party. As such, it is morally unfair to deny the same opportunity to other public employees. One counter is that elected public officials are politicians, so politics is their job. That said, there are moral concerns about politicians using public resources for their re-election or to campaign against a ballot initiative; but this is more a matter of the use of public funds than a free-speech issue. As such, it seems morally acceptable to insist that public employees refrain from political activities while on the clock. But perhaps being an educator is a relevant difference.
On the one hand, it could be argued that even in political science classes the educator does not have the right to preach their politics. After all, the function of the educator is to teach rather than preach. If a teacher takes a clear stance on a political issue, then students might feel pressured to accept it. There is also the concern that expressing political views will alienate students and harm their education. For example, a teacher who expresses anti-Trump views can create a hostile learning environment for MAGA students.
On the other hand, it can be argued that educators do not surrender their right of free expression in the classroom. If they use it responsibly in the classroom, they have the right to express their political views. This view is appealing at the college level. Professors are supposed to have positions on intellectual and academic issues, and these include political issues. That is, they should be able to profess. But the proper role of a professor is a matter of debate. One classic ideal is the professor as one who professes by advancing their positions on the academic issues and inviting students to engage them. This does raise the usual concerns about the power disparity and, of course, the matter of grades. Another classic ideal is the professor neutrally presenting theories and ideas by laying out the ideas and letting students decide which they like best. The problem with this approach is it does not help students determine which ones are better and this would be a problem in engineering, math and science classes in which there are better and worse answers.
My practical solution to the problem has been to stick to the general issues of politics when they are relevant to the course. Since I do not want my students to just repeat what I think on paper and tests, I am careful to present the positions fairly. If pressed for my opinion in class, I will refer to any writings I have done and warn them to never uncritically accept what I have written. I also make it clear that paper grades are not based on whether I like their view but on how well they argue for their view. When I use examples of politicians (usually for fallacies and rhetoric) I do try to include examples across the spectrum. However, the party in power does tend to be the subject of more examples than the party out of power for the obvious reason that they provide more examples.

As noted in previous essays, there is a diversity issue in higher education: liberals outnumber conservatives. Given that conservatives have made their view of diversity clear, it is fair to apply their ideology to the issue of the dearth of conservatives in higher education.
As noted in the previous essay, perhaps conservatives have good reasons to not want to be professors or professors have good reasons not to be conservatives. In this essay, I will offer some possible DEI solutions to the dearth of conservatives in higher education.
While the culture warriors claim Marxism dominates higher education, a more realistic concern is that
In the eternal culture war, folks on the right claim that
Despite the American myth, upward mobility is limited and most of us will die in the class we were born into. Part of this myth is the often-true story that college helps people move up the economic ladder. My family fits this narrative. My father’s parents did not finish high school as they had to take jobs in a shoe factory to help support their families. My father finished high school, got a master’s degree, taught high school for years and after his first retirement taught mathematics at the college level. My mother also has an M.A. My sister and I went to college, and I ended up getting my PhD and staying forever as a professor. Because of my family story, I support college education for those who want it.
Supporters and critics of AI claim it will be taking our jobs. If true, this suggests that AI could eliminate the need for certain skills. While people do persist in learning obsolete skills for various reasons (such as for a hobby), it is likely that colleges would eventually stop teaching these “eliminated” skills. Colleges would, almost certainly, be able to adapt. For example, if AI replaced only a set of programming skills or a limited number of skills in the medical or legal professions, then degree programs would adjust their courses and curriculum. This sort of adaptation is nothing new in higher education and colleges have been adapting to changes since the beginning of higher education, whether these changes are caused by technology or politics. As examples, universities usually do not teach obsolete programming languages and state schools change their curriculum in response to changes imposed by state legislatures.
Socrates, it is claimed, was critical of writing and argued that it would weaken memory. Many centuries later, it was worried that television would “rot brains” and that calculators would destroy people’s ability to do math. More recently, computers, the internet, tablets, and smartphones were supposed to damage the minds of students. The latest worry is that AI will destroy the academy by destroying the minds of students.
Microsoft’s Copilot AI awaits, demon-like, for my summons so that it might replace my words with its own. The temptation is great, but I resist and persist in relying on my own skills. But some warn that others will lack my resolve, and the academy will be destroyed by a deluge of cheating.
While the ideals of higher education are often presented as being above the concerns of mere money, there is nothing inherently wrong with for-profit colleges. Unless, of course, there is something inherently wrong with for-profit businesses in general. So, it should not be assumed that a for-profit college must be bad, ripping students off, or providing useless degrees. That said, the poor reputation of the for-profit colleges is well earned.