Academic freedom flunks diversity’s political litmus test

I pursued a Ph.D. as part of my dream to teach at the university level. But it wasn’t until after I completed my doctorate in political science that I was taught the toughest lesson of modern academia: The politics matters more than the science.

My love for teaching drove my decision to pursue the Ph.D., a credential I knew I’d need to teach full-time at the university level. Not only did I have a passion for teaching, but I was good at it. Evaluations from supervising instructors and student comments were overwhelmingly laudatory. I created a respectful and enjoyable learning environment.

The old maxim for getting a job in academia was “publish or perish.” Today’s maxim is, apparently, “parrot or perish.”

I began applying for academic jobs at the front edge of the DEI boom, when diversity, equity, and inclusion positions were exploding throughout higher education but before that fact was mainstream knowledge. Each application required a statement agreeing with a certain political position — a belief I did not (and do not) hold.

Each of the 42 academic jobs I applied for required a so-called diversity statement: the political litmus test for faculty applicants. And, like most tests, the litmus test has only one right answer. Not providing the right answer told hiring committees everything they needed to know about me.

I didn’t bend the knee. And as a result, I didn’t land the job.

My mistake was believing my years of military service, campaign experience, state legislative work, and staffing on Capitol Hill would matter more than toeing the line. I believed my love of teaching, mixed with my practical experience, would help bring politics alive for students and prepare them for the real world, creating something of value for them and society at large.

Wrong. My inbox instead was full of the dreaded “we’re not moving forward with your application” emails. Or worse, I heard nothing at all.

It didn’t matter that I was a consistently high-performing teacher. It didn’t matter that I had peer-reviewed published research or years of military service. Heck, it didn’t even matter that, as an American Indian, I would have contributed to the diversity of a field in which only two in 1,000 professors are native.

Neither my qualifications nor my degrees were enough to overcome my refusal to bow to the deity of the new university religion: diversity, equity, and inclusion.

All that mattered was that I failed the political test.

By requiring faculty applicants to agree with the orthodoxy of DEI, universities are allowing, indeed encouraging, hiring committees to judge applicants based on political positions rather than merit. The academic job market is, admittedly, tough. However, my experience took a back seat to sticking to the ideological script.

Not only do political tests undermine meritocracy and violate fundamental speech rights, but they also create a politically lopsided faculty. When university faculty are overwhelmingly from one side of the political spectrum, as the evidence shows they are, debate is stifled, creating a climate of fear and self-censorship among students and faculty.

This one-sided echo chamber drowns out diverse views with thunderous intensity and inhibits students’ ability to prepare for their careers and post-college lives in a pluralistic society. Universities used to be havens for free thought and new ideas, not an assembly line for identical ones.

The old maxim for getting a job in academia was “publish or perish,” meaning what mattered most was your scientific productivity. Today’s maxim is, apparently, “parrot or perish," a paradigm in which regurgitating preferred political opinions can mean the difference between employment and excommunication.

To restore waning confidence in higher education and return to the ideals of classical liberalism, universities should eliminate the use of politically driven diversity statements in hiring. And where universities won’t act, state legislators must.

As lawmakers return to statehouses around the country, it is incumbent upon them to ensure that universities in their states don’t become — or remain — politically one-sided indoctrination factories. Fortunately, a common-sense approach exists that will give faculty applicants with diverse views a shot at the professorship.

States must move to ban political hiring tests in higher education, starting with diversity statements. Texas, Florida, Idaho, and Tennessee banned such requirements at public universities, and similar efforts are under way in Utah, Wisconsin, and dozens of other states.

Students deserve better than a faculty selected by a political litmus test where if the test strip is blue, applicants stand a much better chance of getting hired than if it shows even a hint of red. Higher education is supposed to be the place where dreams can come true if you work hard, apply yourself, and learn new ideas and skills.

I stayed the course and found fulfilling work I’m passionate about. But access to the American dream shouldn’t only be available to those who agree with the latest accepted political view.