P-O-L-A-R-I-Z-A-T-I-O-N: Toward a more nuanced orientation

“T-R-U-M-P.” 

Neuroscientist Maryanne Wolf was answering a student’s question when she nearly used the word “trump” as a regular English verb, meaning “override” or “overcome” — but she couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence. She collapsed into her armchair, citing her inability to say “his name” out loud, and instead spelled it out, letter by letter. At the Princeton Pre-read assembly, in front of the entire Class of 2030. University President Christopher Eisgruber ’83, sitting across from her, smiled and said nothing. 

Mandatory first-year events like the pre-read assembly — of which there are many — could be an opportunity to demonstrate respectful bipartisan disagreement, an opportunity to show the incoming class how free expression can be passionate and productive. They are an opportunity squandered. 

Wolf’s attitude was not the exception at orientation, but the rule, when it came to presenting the other side of the political divide. She refused engagement with the other side when she treated a Republican president like Voldemort. The University showed similar avoidance in mandatory orientation events.

The “Sustainability in Action” event, for example, included little about Princeton’s actual commitment to sustainability; instead, the intersectionality of racism and pollution was a primary topic, including a Kahoot quiz with a land acknowledgment. That perspective on environmentalism is irrelevant to everyday recycling, and it is also primarily a left-wing perspective. If Princeton wants to take on the task of educating about climate issues at large during orientation, they should present multiple sides to students: What about the ongoing global debates on clean energy, affordability, and the costs of reducing emissions?

The “Safer Sexpo” provided all the information a student could ever need about accessing contraception and abortions, but nothing about actually having a child. Should sex positivity exclude pregnancy? Even if the administration’s answer is “yes,” it should present options other than abortion for handling unplanned pregnancy.

Throughout orientation, most student groups and campus offices had to compete for frosh attention with emails and flyers. Not so for the Office of Diversity and Inclusion, which received a two-hour advertisement slot in “Beyond Small Talk: Community and Belonging Across Difference.” If Princeton’s goal is to create community across difference, it should take its own advice, and encourage difference in opinion, not just skin color. 

The problem with these events is not that they present a left-leaning perspective on environmentalism, sex education, and DEI, but that they only present a left-leaning perspective. They create the illusion of a settled debate and imply that the conservative side isn’t worth engaging with. 

As I sit through program after program of narrow-minded “conversations,” I worry that the ideological uniformity will hinder students’ willingness to engage other perspectives. The University prides itself on raising new leaders in the service of humanity. Leadership does not begin with an inability to acknowledge the other side of the conversation. It begins, rather, with curiosity and discussion. To hone these skills on campus, orientation should teach tolerance, not dogma. 

I am not making a broad diagnosis of Princeton students’ political hostility or lack thereof. But recent research about higher education suggests a troubling trend.

Sociologist Neil Gross distinguishes between ideological polarization — “when people move further apart in their political beliefs and preferences” — and affective polarization, which is “when your politics become a core feature of your identity, leading you to have negative feelings toward those who disagree with you.”

Gross argues that affective polarization is the “true scourge” of universities. Over the past few decades, Americans have increasingly viewed political opponents with “hostility or disdain,” shifting from political disagreement to a “sense that the other side is immoral.” This shift endangers civil discourse: you might debate somebody who is wrong, but not somebody who is evil. 

In higher education, affective polarization manifests itself as social siloing. Gross’ survey of students showed widespread self-sorting: nearly half reported that their college’s political reputation was important to their enrollment, and he also found self-sorting in clubs, Greek life, and majors. Young people are finding great appeal in being surrounded by similar worldviews, making cross-party encounters far less likely.

Universities aren’t helpless in the face of this phenomenon. Princeton cannot and should not control the views of its applicants, but it can teach its mostly liberal student body to engage with views across the political spectrum. Orientation programming doesn’t even bother to try.

If you’re skeptical that ideological intolerance could ever make its way into Princeton, the Orange Bubble of free expression and political apathy, I sincerely hope that you’re right. I hope that the examples I’ve already observed on campus — a student who was reportedly berated for condemning the celebration of Charlie Kirk’s death,  an overheard lament that Princeton is “too conservative,” an op-ed that painted the right as “hostile and dangerous” — are isolated and unrepresentative. But as affective polarization rises nationwide, one-sided orientation events should make us vigilant.

On Sept. 16, Yale Law professor Akhil Amar gave a public lecture at Princeton on the evolution of constitutional equality. He had fascinating things to say about our founding fathers, but just as notable was the way he spoke about his own contemporaries. When asked about the Supreme Court’s recent decision that upheld birthright citizenship, Amar sharply criticized the dissenting decision — but not the justices themselves. He spoke of Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito as friends, and presented their ideas honestly, even as he vehemently disagreed with their legal judgment. Amar was a model of what political disagreement should look like: empirical, thoughtful, passionate, and tolerant. M-A-R-Y-A-N-N-E W-O-L-F, and the Princeton administration, would do well to follow his example.

Simon Riley is a contributing Opinion writer from Rye Brook, N.Y. He’s a fan of honest disagreement. You can reach him at sriley[at]dailyprincetonian.com.