© Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement, Volume 14, Number 1, p. 83, (2010) Who’s Afraid of Politics? On the Need to Teach Political Engagement Stephen Bloch-Schulman, Spoma Jovanovic “[K]nowledge is already political, and it is our task . . . to make that explicit, in order to take responsibility for how it is political.”—Elizabeth Minnich on John Dewey “I’ve learned very much about how important I person- ally am to this democracy. Everything that needs to be done starts with one person and the organization of ordinary people. I have become increasingly aware that if I don’t do something personally about a problem I care about, nothing may ever get done.”—Chris Manor, student in “Reclaiming Democracy” Introduction T here is a crisis in the political body today and we, as pro- fessors at institutions of higher education, share respon- sibility for it. The crisis of which we speak is widespread cynicism, inaction, and disengagement from the political realm and from political processes. While bemoaning students’ political apathy, individualism, and obedience in the name of grades, we rarely ask about our role in this state of affairs. Dare we admit that students have learned all too well what we have taught them, even if we have taught it unintentionally through our own aloofness and disengagement? It is clear that most of us have given up on ven- turing into political territory, for many reasons. We have to recog- nize that in doing so we feed the machine of disengagement. We are in part to blame, but we are not the only ones. Primary and sec- ondary schoolteachers are our partners in this apathy-mongering. Chris Wilkins, a researcher in Britain, found that future teachers had their own deflated political views: they consider politics irrel- evant to their daily lives and inaccessible even if they want to par- ticipate (1999). Indeed, the long-term prospects for an engaged citizenry look bleak. Despite increased community involvement by college stu- dents—due in large part to the service-learning movement and to the small but hopeful upsurge in the elections of 2008—a dis- connect remains between young citizens and the political world, leaving them outside the collective decision making that affects 84 Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement their own lives. They have been taught well: we largely abdicate public decisions to presumed experts, their organizations, and government officials. Whatever good comes of those decisions is “lucky” for us. Whatever bad or misguided decisions ensue prompt a flurry of criticism, but this is often devoid of an understanding of the processes available to effect positive change. Of course, this is not the case for all people in all locales, but it represents a dis- turbing trend. And the trend is intensifying. With this view as a backdrop, how can future teachers make politics and democracy, in particular, meaningful to new generations of citizens? In this article we propose an older view of politics that the now- dominant narrative driven by neoliberalism has almost entirely drowned out: the republican tradition, which understands politics as collective responsibility-taking. Politics, from this view, is about the relationship not between the ruler and the ruled but between citizens. Furthermore, if politics is collective responsibility, then we have been political failures as we have shirked our own core- sponsibility for this current state of affairs. We begin by looking at some of the common reasons faculty avoid teaching for political engagement. We then turn to a critical historical analysis of how and why this has come to be the norm. We follow with the asser- tion that college-level professors must accept the responsibility to engage students in political matters. Finally, we highlight a few pro- grams of study that successfully blend more traditional academic instruction with engagement in current political struggles, along with student responses to those experiences. The (Failed) Quest for Nonpartisan and Unbiased Teaching Professors who refrain from introducing politics into courses espouse many reasons for doing so. In fact, a top ten list of articu- lated and unarticulated reasons might read, in no particular order: • The desire or need to keep personal (political) feelings sepa- rate from public (professional) expertise. • A reluctance to invite strong reactions, conflicts, and dis- agreements into the classroom. • Fear of being labeled partisan or biased by students, col- leagues, and senior faculty in light of the consequences that might come from this label (such as student ratings or, more publicly, being listed in conservative writer David Horowitz’s “101 Most Dangerous Academics in America”). Who’s Afraid of Politics? 85 • Lack of deep awareness about and engagement in current political concerns. • Inability to see the connections between political issues and discipline-specific topics. • Fear of unfairly influencing student values, feelings, and beliefs. • Recognition that public (political) teaching and scholarship is not highly valued in many promotion and tenure decisions. • Lack of hope that teaching for political knowledge and polit- ical engagement will garner any good results. • Not knowing what constitutes a proper balance of engage- ment and neutrality. • Having ourselves been taught in ways that reinforce the pre- ceding reasons. Imagine how teachers who understand politics as distinct from university education would feel if they were to take the risk and introduce political subjects into the classroom anyway, only to have their colleagues call them “radical.” In fact, the fear of being deemed an extremist for challenging modes of classical instruc- tion translates into a fierce internalized chilling effect to instead be “objective,” or outside the fray of community conflict. What many do not recognize is that such manifest impartiality and dispassion toward the world has not always been the gold standard for aca- demic excellence—in fact, as we will show, this view’s hegemony over the classroom and politics at large is rather new—and has important consequences, whether intended or not. Historical Accounts of the Roots of Nonpartisan and Unbiased Goals for Teaching: The Republican Tradition Surrenders to the Neoliberal View of Freedom In his 2005 essay, “America’s Search for a Public Philosophy,” Michael Sandel—working within the alternative tradition of repub- lican political theory—calls into question our common way of thinking about the political spectrum in terms of liberal and con- servative. Instead, he shows that there is an older and, he argues, more fundamental distinction. Sandel says the focus on the liberal/ conservative dichotomy has overridden a more important distinc- tion, the one between a contemporary use of a classical liberal view 86 Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement of freedom and a view of freedom that comes from the republican theoretical tradition. We argue here that this distinction is crucial for teaching, for considering what role teaching ought to have in our community, and for determining more explicitly the appro- priate role of teaching democratic arts and democratic thinking. Specifically, Sandel argues that contemporary liberals and con- servatives both base their positions on a similar view of freedom, even if they apply that view differently. For both, the central assumption is that “freedom consists in our capacity to choose our ends for ourselves”; from this it follows that politics and political actors “should not try to form the character or cultivate the virtue of [other] citizens, for to do so would be to ‘legislate morality’” (2005, p. 9). Those we usually call liberals use this argument when religion enters into spheres they hold dear: for example, to block prayer in schools and to argue against legal restrictions on abortion and gay marriage. Those we consider conservatives similarly utilize this view of freedom when making arguments against what they see as government’s infringement into the market economy and its “free” operation, and into religion, where they oppose the teaching of evolution as the only viable scientific theory. Two important points about the neoliberal view of freedom warrant consideration here. The first involves the implausibility of bracketing private concerns from public consideration. The second examines the inevitable certainty that professors will teach values, if only to support this neoliberal view of freedom. That we can or should leave private opinions out of the public realm is itself a controversial claim, hardly neutral, and quite new as an organizing principle. Though now so familiar as to appear “a permanent feature of the American political tradition,” the neoliberal view of freedom has been, as Sandel points out, the “reigning public philosophy” for only the past half century (2005, p. 10). Sandel recognizes Thomas Jefferson as an early advocate of republican theory—which holds, among other things, “that public policy should cultivate the qualities of character that self-govern- ment requires” (p. 12). Sandel further points to the public debates on how to slow the unfettered growth of large corporations as examples from our recent history when the neoliberal paradigm of individual choice was challenged by the communal visions of freedom and democracy. Nevertheless, the intensification and now almost total dominance of the neoliberal view is crucial. Sandel notes that Keynesian economics, though promoting government intervention in a free-market system, maintained its focus on the accrual and distribution of national wealth rather than questioning Who’s Afraid of Politics? 87 how a democratic government could be preserved and nurtured in the face of concentrated economic power. Keynesian economics grew through World War II into the 1960s, achieving dominance at the “decisive moment in the demise of the republican strand of American politics and the rise of contemporary liberalism” (p. 19). The importance of this fundamental shift was, in Sandel’s view, twofold: First, [Keynesian economics] offered policymakers and elected officials a way to “bracket,” or set aside, contro- versial views of the good society, and so promised a con- sensus that programs for structural reform could not offer. Second, by abandoning the formative project, it denied government a stake in the moral character of its citizens and affirmed the notion of persons as free and independent selves. (p. 19) There was, in fact, a nearly wholesale endorsement of separating economic decisions from political consideration. Sandel notes that President John F. Kennedy Jr. proclaimed that matters of economics were simple, requiring not full discussion of ideological claims, but only practical management to keep the economic engine running in America. With the divorce of civic concern from key economic decisions came an accompanying shift in citizen identity. The image of persons as free and independent selves, unbound by moral or communal ties they have not chosen, is a liberating, even exhilarating, ideal. Freed from the dictates of custom or tradition, the liberal self is installed as sovereign, cast as the author of the only obligations that constrain. (Sandel, 2005, p. 21) The rise of the autonomy of the individual and the view that the individual can and should make choices for “himself” by “himself” are fundamental here.1 This view of the self is the basis of the claim that we should not teach for political engagement or that we should not foist our normative views on our students. However, even if we accept the neoliberal notion of freedom—asking that citizens not infringe on the freedom of others—we, as teachers, would nonetheless be called to prepare our students by teaching and fostering respect for differences and for limits. We would need to help students with the 88 Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement skills, values, and dispositions required to choose one’s own ends, and, as Marcia Baxter Magolda (2001) shows throughout her work, this is no small feat, and requires no small set of skills. For example, to genuinely choose one’s own ends requires understanding a variety of ends one might choose—without options, there can be no choice, but only acquiescence to what is given. Thus, where the government and other public persons and groups might overstep their bounds if they were to seek to impose certain morals and were we to hold a notion of freedom that is negative and see the best life in purely private terms, we as educators would still be called to prepare students for this life; even if we hold a neoliberal view, we are drawn into political matters. The Lingering Impacts on Teaching and Society: Absent the Political, How and What Do We Teach? If in our courses we do not discuss political issues or address societal concerns in ways that engage students with contemporary problems, we constrain our thinking (and our students’) and peda- gogy so that we (1) teach subject matter in disengaged, contempla- tive ways, (2) lean on service-learning to nominally fulfill a school’s civic mission while avoiding the political, and/or (3) refrain from addressing systemic, cultural conditions that impact freedom. In the first method, teaching in disinterested ways, teachers assume there is no need to be explicit in the discussion of a par- ticular philosophy as it relates to our lives and our communities. Instead, teachers leave students to learn the integrative aspects on their own. Yet this higher order of thinking and analysis—thinking with a theory or philosophy and the ways it can inform our under- standing of the world and of ourselves—is perhaps the most dif- ficult learning of all (Michael, 2005). On first or second or even third try, most students will fail to adequately engage both the theory and the world in their oral or written responses. Without adequate practice and feedback, students have a tendency and good reason to fall back on the default position, that of simply asserting an opinion devoid of grounding or supporting evidence. Furthermore, they are likely to hold the view that each person is entitled to his or her own opinion, not wanting to bother others or convince them. In other words, they learn quickly to emulate the professor model of not imposing one’s views on another, but they do this in their own way. The result leaves little hope of establishing reasoned, reliable communal values necessary to promulgate a democracy. In the second approach, professors who want to teach through community engagement often do so via service-learning courses Who’s Afraid of Politics? 89 where students work with a community partner to further the mis- sion of a (typically) nonprofit agency. This practice rests on two assumptions: first, that a focus on the world outside the classroom— the “real world,” as students like to say—is appropriate because this is where community and engagement occur; and, second, that ser- vice-learning courses lead to active political engagement. Both are problematic assumptions. The first is problematic because the classroom is in reality already imbued with political and power dynamics, where students all too often feel and are taught, whether intentionally or not, to be impotent and to not take responsibility for their own work, growth, and future, nor for their classmates’ learning (Manor, Bloch-Schulman, Flannery, & Felten, 2009). Thus arguing that getting students involved in politics requires com- munity engagement yields a further erosion of the learning poten- tial in the classroom itself. This view results from the belief that democracy and politics are forms of action, and that the work more traditionally done in the classroom—thinking and reading and analyzing—is somehow not active or political. In the end, students learn— often with our encouragement—that “[L]ooking to what what occurs within the classroom is happens outside the not real and thus is of little conse- classroom for ‘real- quence. For them, looking to what world applications’ happens outside the classroom for discounts the very “real-world applications” discounts the very political and important political and important work in their everyday encounters. work in [students’] Service-learning, as it is practiced, everyday encounters.” all too often neglects to ask: How can the classroom be a space where students are prepared for their full citizenship by learning to take responsibility and to think in democratic and nuanced ways? That is, we think of politics in relation to others, yet give little thought or attention to our own relationships and our ways of thinking and perceiving the world and to the political implications thereof (Minnich, 2008). The second assumption, that service-learning teaches stu- dents how to be politically engaged, is largely false. In Educating for Democracy: Preparing Undergraduates for Responsible Political Engagement, Anne Colby, Elizabeth Beaumont, Thomas Ehrlich, and Josh Corngold (2007) reviewed 21 college-level courses and cocurricular programs and found stress on community service but little or no attention to actual political engagement. Their research 90 Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement confirmed what Tony Robinson (2000) found in a review of 600 service-learning experiences compiled by the National Library of Education in 1998: less than 1% of those 600 programs involved political advocacy where students partnered with the community to address policy, institutional, or structural change. So, while student involvement in a service-based experience is generally intended to bolster civic literacy, these experiences devoid of political dis- cussions leave a vacuum of specifically political understandings. Students are often happy to go feed the hungry but may remain unchallenged regarding the deeper political questions about why there even are hungry people. This lack of inquiry into systemic causes is especially troubling in the United States, where the differ- ential between rich and poor continues to increase and where our students’ “Students are often lifestyles, spending, and voting habits happy to go feed may exacerbate the very problems that service-learning brings us together to the hungry but may address. remain unchallenged Finally, we need to ask: Who ben- regarding the deeper efits from the way that we teach now? political questions It is not just a matter of students’ about why there even activities during school: also at stake are hungry people.” are the know-how, habits, and content knowledge students acquire. As Nancy Tuana and Shannon Sullivan note in their introduction to a special Hypatia volume on epistemologies of ignorance, we “cannot fully understand the complex practices of knowledge production and the variety of features that account for why something is known, without also understanding the practices that account for not knowing” (2006, p. vii). We, as teachers, need to be cognizant not just of what we teach students intentionally, but also of our unintentional ways of training and habituating them. We must always keep in mind what our focus hides from ourselves and our students. What are students learning and paying atten- tion to such that they do not know what citizenship consists of, for example? And when our students do not know this type of infor- mation and what to do with it, does it genuinely advantage them? Strategies for Teaching Politics to Sustain a Democracy For Carmen Sirianni, who has studied and published extensively on youth civic engagement, reclaiming our democracy depends on teaching students not only traditional modes of political engage- Who’s Afraid of Politics? 91 ment such as voting and campaigning, but importantly, other kinds of political work that bring institutions, communities, and people together (2005). Colby et al. (2007) concur: Institutions of higher education have critical roles to play in helping to ensure the vitality and evolution of our culture and democratic system, and preparing stu- dents as thoughtful, responsible, creative citizens is an essential element of this. (p. 2) Our future citizens depend upon the enculturation they receive in school to know how to be effective members of a democracy. To those who claim bias in the academy when professors examine such topics as raising the minimum wage, combating the effects of global warming, or challenging the high-stakes standard- ized testing that the No Child Left Behind Act has encouraged, we might point out, as Robinson (2000) has, that we have entire busi- ness schools on our campuses devoted to training students to be corporate managers intent on maximizing profit as a moral neces- sity in accord with Milton Friedman’s vision of capitalism. Critiques of capitalism by other faculty might arm students with the tools to engage in serious economic debates, but business school instruc- tion generally omits these critiques, leaving fundamental questions masked from scholarly inquiry. In the pro-corporate, pro-“free market” climate that dominates nearly all aspects of our culture, the impact of courses in the humanities that seek to improve the social condition for the poor is rarely a match for the common vernacular in business classes, in the media, and in governmental decisions focused exclusively on profit margins, economic “devel- opment,” and other Wall Street interests and instruments. Some professors argue that politics in the classroom is fine as long as all sides are presented, somewhat in the spirit of ideal journalistic practices (Colby et al. 2007). It is, of course, quite debat- able how objective journalism really is or has ever been. Still, some professors retain the sentiment that teaching politics and political engagement works best when “taking sides” is avoided. The argu- ment continues that there is good reason to follow this method as students can be unaware of many of the positions on an issue in the community. For instance, to talk about a rezoning battle to allow for building more industrial plants in a previously agri- cultural and residential area calls for a discussion among devel- opers, homeowners, city planners, and others who can explain how their interests are served or threatened by the rezoning. Before any 92 Journal of Higher Education Outreach and Engagement discussion, students may be unaware of how the city makes deci- sions, how zoning is determined, and how changes to a master plan are made and why. They may be equally unaware of how industry in a residential area can drive down home prices on the one hand, and on the other hand, make possible jobs close to home for low- wage workers. Other issues, such as water quality, transportation, pollution, and sprawl, also enter into the conversation. The approach that we advocate in teaching politics in the class- room urges the professor not to be beholden to the myth that every side is equal. We know that the agenda for a city, state, nation, or global concern is often set by those who have power and influence. Today, the narrative of economic development frequently trumps moral and community considerations. If a nuclear or coal-fired plant can provide more energy so we can have more industry, dis- placement of communities may be seen as a reasonable price to pay by those who have the power to make the decision. However, equally if not more important to the discussion and decision making are debates surrounding community preservation, global environmental protection, government subsidies, and political gain. For those advocating social change to existing policies, an in- depth critique of the status quo is necessary. Thus in the classroom, more time may be needed to question the economic development narrative that is often accepted as natural and inevitable today. To unpack the contributions and consequences of development prac- tices, the professor and students need to engage in readings and research on topics that are hidden, dismissed, or deemed unreliable by those promoting the dominant narrative. In this way, students acquire important critical thinking and discourse skills suitable for a pluralistic society. Though mainstream instruction does not generally ven- ture into political territory, there exist plenty of rich examples of teachers who do carry a torch for engaging students in political matters. How they do it is worth discussing and questioning. For professors who can see and use conflict as a source of engagement for students, the outcomes can be promising. Doing so, however, requires avoiding polemic tendencies that rule the airwaves and too often become the model of argument in the classroom. There, as in homes and businesses everywhere, we have been offered inad- equate advice to reduce friction: “Don’t talk about politics, reli- gion, or money if you want to keep your friends.” In fact, politics, religion, and money are among the very topics we need to discuss if we are to vet our values, beliefs, and hopes for what a good life is. We also need to talk about health care, wealth and poverty, the