The following is an unsigned editorial published by The Daily Princetonian on Feb. 8, 1980, during the tenure of Elena Kagan ’81 as editorial chairman.
A university, more than any other type of institution, ought to promote and encourage the free exchange of ideas, whether intellectual, religious or political. Centers of higher learning should, after all, be distinguished by a spirit of inquiry and investigation, and this spirit can only thrive in an atmosphere of unfettered debate of dissenting opinions. Yet, in the Labor Party case now before the New Jersey Supreme Court, Princeton has asserted its right to control campus discussion of important issues by limiting the access of outsiders to the university. We find this position in blatant conflict with the ideal of free inquiry which should be central to Princeton’s being.
It is important to note at the outset that the rules and regulations established by Princeton to deal with outside political groups have been relaxed considerably since the time Labor Party member Chris Schmid was convicted of trespassing upon university premises. Currently, “ bona fide political or religious organizations” may obtain permission to enter the campus so long as they agree to abide by certain restrictions of “time, place and manner.” These limitations are reasonable; the university does have some right — indeed, has some responsibility — to ensure the safety and security of those who reside or work here. What frightens us is that the university, in its legal brief and oral arguments, has asserted that it has an absolute right to restrict the activities of outside political organizations and speakers — that it could, in fact, properly and constitutionally forbid such activities if it so desired.
In making such an absolute claim, the university has presented a wide variety of arguments and rationales. Two, however, have been repeatedly emphasized by the legal counsel’s office, both of which we find extremely disturbing. First, the university claims that its educational atmosphere could be adversely affected by an influx of outside organizations and that, accordingly, the Princeton administration should have complete authority over who should be allowed on campus. The university brief argues that this is so because the presence of too many outsiders would necessitate an increase in security forces which would, in turn, destroy Princeton’s “congeniality” and “sense of community.”
But the university’s own position is belied by the events of the past year, a year in which only “time, place and manner” restrictions have been in effect. In this past year, Princeton has hardly been turned into a hotbed of revolution and radicalism; it has instead succeeded in retaining its “congeniality” and “intimacy,” to use the words of the university’s legal brief. Clearly, time, place and manner restrictions are sufficient in order to ensure that “atmosphere of almost home-like security” which the legal counsel’s office seems to prize so highly.
More important still, from a theoretical viewpoint, the university should recognize that a little ferment and controversy would be an extremely positive commodity for the Princeton campus. A country-club atmosphere seems much less important to us than does the free interplay of political ideas. If one of these has to give a bit, we feel that it should be Princeton’s quiet homeiness; the possibility of occasional annoyance from external political groups should not frighten us. Vigorous debate and discussion, whether instigated by university members or outsiders, is far more important to a university’s essential well-being.
Princeton’s second major argument rests on the principle of academic freedom. In his prepared text for oral argument, Nicholas deB. Katzenback ’43 argues that this freedom “flourishes (in a university) whenever it is free from government interference.” In the brief prepared by the legal counsel’s office, the same point is made: Princeton possesses a First Amendment right to academic freedom which would be abridged were the state to interfere with the regulations governing the access of outside organizations to the campus.
But in making this assertion, Princeton redefines — indeed, perverts — the true meaning of academic freedom. This term, used in its proper sense, refers to the freedom of academia to take unpopular and provocative stands rather than to the freedom of the entire university to remain immune from any type of government interference. In his prepared text, Katzenbach admits that Princeton is already subject to a great variety of governmental rules; to use just one example, the university is prevented from discriminating on the basis of race under the legislative mandate of the Fourteenth Amendment. We see no reason why the courts should not also be able to compel Princeton’s acceptance of the First Amendment rights of outside groups to engage in political speech on the university campus. No essential freedom of the university would thereby be curtailed.
In short, the arguments which the university has used in the Labor Party case fail to convince us that it should have absolute authority to regulate the speech of outsiders on campus. Vigorous discussion and investigation are what universities ought to be all about, and these can only arise in an atmosphere of free expression and interchange. Adam Smith once wrote that universities were “sanctuaries in which exploded systems and obsolete ideas find shelter and protection.” If the university’s claim of total authority to regulate, or even to forbid, the political speech of outside organizations is upheld, Princeton will move a large step closer toward living up to Smith’s definition.
