This Moment is a Test of Our Principles

Penalizing pro-Palestinian speakers and groups reveals the limits of "consequence culture"

As the conflict between Israel and Hamas rages on, I feel like I’m in a constant state of whiplash: Horrified by what civilians in Gaza are suffering; disgusted at the downplaying or denial of Hamas’s terror; deeply shaken by the growing and overt anti-Semitism on display, including from fellow progressives; repulsed by the right-wing glee at Palestinian death and destruction.

And today, profoundly disturbed by the quick retreat to censorship — and troubled by the lack of reflection on how the progressive shift away from broad support of free and even offensive speech has made us especially inept at navigating this moment.

Yesterday I wrote about the left-wing flirtation with fundamentalism, and how dangerous and self-defeating that is. Today, I want to write about the very quick walking-back of free speech norms since Oct. 7, fueled by many people who just a few weeks ago were regular objectors to what they saw as progressive encroachments on free speech. This is the thing about liberalism, and a commitment to liberal ideals including freedom of expression as a norm, not just a constitutionally-protected right against government interference: It’s an especially difficult ideal to live out when you deeply dislike or even feel threatened by the speech in question. But it’s in these moments — when emotions are heightened, when the stakes feel the highest — that commitment to a principle is tested. We should try to pass.

The Free Speech Conundrum

Across the US, colleges are suspending and shutting down pro-Palestinian student groups, or facing demands from alumni and politicians to shut down pro-Palestinian groups. Brandeis banned its Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) chapter because, the president says, the group supports Hamas, and that to fully support the free exchange of ideas, “we must not and do not condone hate, the incitement of violence, or threats against or harassment of anyone.” The title of his letter is “A space for free speech, not hate speech.”

Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis has called for SJP to be disbanded across the state, and state universities have demanded that the group cease operations. The reality on the ground is more complicated, but the core of the story is that the most powerful actors in the state of Florida are trying to shut this organization down, claiming that they provide material aid to a terrorist organization (which really stretches the definition of “material”). The ACLU is suing in response.

Columbia University suspended its SJP chapter, as well as its chapter of Jewish Voices for Peace. The pretext for the suspension is that these groups broke university rules when they organized an unauthorized walk-out. But I think we can be honest and acknowledge that if it was, say, the campus environmental group that broke the rules, this kind of censure would be unlikely. The reality is that many schools are facing enormous pressure from some alumni, students, donors, politicians, and the public to do something about student groups whose aims, language, and tactics critics find offensive or even hateful.

I’ll put my own cards on the table: I’m not a fan of much of what Students for Justice in Palestine has done in the past several weeks, even as I am sickened by the mass killing of civilians in Gaza, and believe that Israel’s actions are hugely, wildly disproportionate. I’m disgusted at the statements many SJP chapters released after the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks, which blamed Israelis for their own suffering and excused Hamas. I’m disgusted at what goes on at many of their rallies, how many of their members spit out the word Zionist in a way that sounds like they just want to use Jew as a slur, how some of their statements and positions veer solidly into the anti-Semitic. I think a non-negligible number of people affiliated with these groups or supporting their work are actually anti-Semitic, and/or simply do not care all that much about Jewish life. I think the realistic outcome of the policies they promote will be the ethnic cleansing and mass displacement of Jews from the Middle East. I don’t think giving cover to a misogynist fundamentalist death cult under the guise of anti-colonial liberation is a good look, or particularly wise. I think much of what they’ve done in the wake of Oct. 7 has put on full display a deep moral bankruptcy couched in the radical chic jargon of revolution, and a willingness to cede basic humanity in the service of a political goal.

I also think these same pro-Palestinian groups shouldn’t be banned on campuses.

Robert Kuttner, a professor at Brandeis, writes about Lewis Brandeis, after whom the schools is named, in the American Prospect:

In the famous 1927 free speech case Whitney v. California, Justice Brandeis wrote, “To justify suppression of free speech there must be reasonable ground to fear that serious evil will result if free speech is practiced … [and] reasonable ground to believe that the danger apprehended is imminent.”

For Liebowitz, the connection between SJP’s rhetorical support of Hamas and the U.S. government’s defining Hamas as a terrorist organization added up to the SJP promoting violence on campus. The circumstances were not unlike those in Whitney v. California.

Charlotte Anita Whitney, a founding member of the Communist Labor Party of California, was prosecuted for helping to organize a group that advocated violence. But Brandeis observed that Whitney posed no immediate threat. “[T]he remedy to be applied is more speech, not enforced silence. Only an emergency can justify repression.” Brandeis’s view, a minority position in 1927, was finally adopted by the Supreme Court in 1969.

So, who’s right: Brandeis, or Brandeis? The test, it seems to me, is whether SJP incites violence at home, not whether it espouses an unpopular defense of violence overseas.

Brandeis the judge was evaluating a case in which the federal government encroached upon a citizen’s free speech rights. The Brandeis University (and Columbia University) cases are not First Amendment legal issues. Most of the colleges in question here are private entities, not the state, and they can generally do as they like.

But just because they legally can do as they like doesn’t mean that they should — or that their decisions to curtail student speech should be met with a shrug or applause.

I think they should allow pro-Palestinian groups to continue their advocacy, including when those groups use language that many find offensive. They should not allow threats or harassment, a line that has been crossed by many students who should be punished accordingly. But student organizations, even those that deeply offend other students and faculty, should be allowed to organize and protest, including using phrases that many agree are deeply offensive.

This is free speech argument in the ideological sense, not the legalistic one, and it’s one that is specific to colleges and universities — a different calculus should apply to workplaces. That’s because institutions of higher learning are unique insofar as one of their aims is to teach young people how to think, not what to think, and they should aim to allow maximal inquiry and discussion and debate. To do that, they should prioritize free expression even over emotional safety.

“Consequence Culture”

For the past several years, I’ve watched with some concern as many of my political fellow travelers have denied the existence of “cancel culture” or recast it as consequence culture; as students have shouted down speakers they don’t like; and as colleges and universities have increasingly leaned into the language of emotional harm and words-as-violence to either soothe student anxieties or tamp down speech they don’t like. Progressives have significant power on college campuses, and ideologically, I agree with most if not all of their (our) arguments — especially when they point out that this or that right-wing group or conservative speaker is indeed racist or sexist or xenophobic or otherwise bigoted. I certainly agree with the point that there is tremendous asymmetry in free speech norms, with conservatives crying foul when their ideas are unwelcome in liberal institutions, while being incredibly censorious in any space they control — many religious colleges, for example, won’t allow pro-choice speakers or LGBT groups on campus, and we’ve all been treated to the right-wing book-banning spree that happened after a handful of lunatics made their way onto school boards and city councils. But just because conservatives are often giant hypocrites who use free speech arguments where convenient and abandon them as soon as they have power doesn’t mean that liberals and leftists have to behave similarly.

One reason we shouldn’t behave similarly is that “consequence culture” cuts both ways. Over the past several weeks, pro-Palestinian students have been doxed and threatened by right-wing groups, including one affiliated with the odious Project Veritas. The justification for doing so should sound familiar: free speech “does not mean that your speech is free of consequences,” and those consequences include your speech being attached to your identity and broadcast to a much larger audience. Universities and colleges suspending pro-Palestinian student groups is being framed by supporters of those suspensions in much the same way: Actions have consequences. And also: Ensuring that students feel safe on campus is a basic function of any college or university.

But that can all impede the more vexing questions, which include when and why campaigns of public naming-and-shaming are appropriate; what role various institutions should play in arbitrating the most pitched and high-stakes of public disagreements; and where feeling unsafe segues into actually being unsafe.

Let me give you a disappointing preview of what’s to come: I don’t have perfect answers to any of those questions.

Private educational institutions don’t have to allow as broad a range of speech as public ones — the Brandeis president’s position that hate speech isn’t allowed works at Brandeis, but it wouldn’t fly everywhere, because as much as I obviously loathe hate speech, hate speech is free speech and is not illegal in the United States. There are compelling reasons for schools to have a zero-tolerate policy for hate speech, but this particular issue illustrates how challenging it is to draw a hard and fast line. Is hate speech only outright slurs? Or does it encompass ideas some would argue are hateful or bigoted or threatening, but others would say are legitimate positions that do not stem from hate? Does speech become hateful by association or insinuation? The obvious example at hand is anti-Zionism: an end to the state of Israel, in American leftist theory to be replaced by a single state where Jews and Arabs have equal rights, and in Hamas’s ideal, to be replaced by an Islamist state that has been cleansed of all or most Jews. In reality, a Palestine from the river to the sea that does not result in (at best) the mass displacement of millions of Jews from the land where they born seems vastly, vastly unlikely. And so I understand why so many people hear “Palestine from the river to the sea” or “one-state solution” and hear “ethnic cleansing of Jews in Israel and Palestine.” I also understand why idealistic people who are repulsed by the idea of ethno-states find any outcome than than a single state with equal rights for all groups to be unacceptable and morally repugnant.

And I understand why people on both sides of this equation find the other’s position obscene. So the question is: What role should institutions play in making these kinds of moral determinations?

I would say: Very little.

This is especially true, as Robert Kuttner persuasively writes, when the speech in question is not by any reasonable definition inciting violence at home, but rather defending violence (and greater potential violence) overseas. I personally find this speech offensive, and I understand why others do too, and I think progressive organizations and individuals should really think that through — like your mama hopefully taught you, just because you can say something or just because you want to say something doesn’t mean you should. From a movement perspective, it’s worth considering the wisdom of using terms and phrases that a number of your comrades have said shock and appall them (not to mention alienate them from your shared goals). But those are different questions than the ones posed to university administrators and other consequence-levelers in this moment.

In the past few years, there has been a progressive push, at least in the journalism world, to move away from the concept of fairness and toward moral clarity. And often, I agree: both sides-ism can obscure truth more than illuminate it, and giving equal opportunity for each team to score on a badly slanted playing field isn’t particularly fair.

But moral clarity requires a kind of assuredness that is not always wise. Over and over this past month, I’ve heard people on all sides of this issue claim that it’s not complicated at all, because their position is clearly the only moral and just one. This strikes me as more of a wish for clarity — or perhaps more accurately, an expression of a strongly-held view from a person who genuinely believes they see these questions with perfect clarity — than a fair and accurate statement of fact. Moral clarity is useful. But when there are competing morals at play, and competing claims to moral authority, and complex generations-long power imbalances and layers upon layers of oppression, it’s also ok to approach topics with as much care and nuance and possible. That isn’t ceding morality; it’s living it.

This applies far beyond the current debates about Israeli existence and the horrors being visited upon Palestinian civilians. I personally believe that opposition to abortion rights is by definition a misogynist position — it treats women as second-class citizens, and I don’t actually think one can criminalize abortion and not harm women. There are plenty of progressives who refuse to debate abortion rights for this exact reason: They don’t believe that women’s basic humanity should be up for debate. And while I agree in principle, the reality is that these rights are up for debate, whether I like it or not and even though I think it is very morally clear that abortion must be available for women to be full and free citizens of any society. I think it would do students and the public a huge disservice if colleges banned anti-abortion groups, or refused to host anti-abortion speakers, or qualified anti-abortion speech — even the grossest versions of that speech — as banned speech.

There are lines, of course. I think the anti-abortion movement crossed one when they issued “Wanted” posters of doctors, and when they published websites including those doctors’ names, addresses, and other information clearly intended to allow violent actors to find them. I don’t think that was free speech or “consequence culture.” I think that was a clear threat against identifiable individuals.

But take, as another example, the case of Kevin Williamson, who was briefly hired in 2018 to write for the Atlantic before being fired after it came to light that his “pro-life” stance also included support of the death penalty for women who have abortions (to quote him, “the law should treat abortion like any other homicide,” by which he means, “I have hanging in mind”). I think this was the right move: The Atlantic is an employer, and was hiring Williamson for his writing about his ideas, and when it turned out that one of those ideas was entirely odious and indefensible and far out of line with the magazine’s ethos, it fired him. But penalizing Williamson, even for a view so odious it offends me down to every tiny bone in my body, would have been the wrong move from a college or university. The absolutely ugly, profoundly misogynist, violence-affirming views expressed by Williamson should be able to expressed by a college student without their institution leveling any consequences, because learning institutions are and should be different kinds of places than magazines or places or employment. (Their peers are, of course, welcome to rightly think that this “pro-life” student is an asshole they should socially avoid). No college or university should, say, invite Kevin Williamson to give their commencement address, which suggests admiration and possibly endorsement. But the ideas he expressed shouldn’t be shut down by administrators.

Or take the common anti-abortion claim that abortion is “Black genocide.” This is, again, disgusting and profoundly offensive, suggesting that Black women are genocidaires. I would like to personally kick the ass of anyone who says it. And still: A college student anti-abortion group should be able to make that claim without getting suspended.

In other words, institutions of higher learning should have very, very expansive rules when it comes to permitted speech — and permitted speech should include speech that people find upsetting or uncomfortable or enraging or bigoted. It should include speech, even, that heightens one’s sense of vulnerability. Universities and other institutions should not allow targeted harassment of individuals or organizations; they should not allow threats; they should not allow threatening or hateful attacks on individuals or groups; they should not allow incitement to violence. But again, all of this can get sticky. Is a group that chants “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” leveling a hateful attack on a group? They would say no, that this is simply a call for Palestinian freedom, which can coexist along Jewish freedom. A lot of Zionists would say yes: That this is a chant also used by Hamas, and that its literal meaning is an end to the state of Israel, which will in turn realistically almost surely mean an end to Jews living freely and safely in what is currently Israel. Is that not a hateful attack on a group?

These are not easy lines to draw. But I think it’s healthy to debate where to draw them. I think colleges and universities should draw them as widely as possible. And I think it would behoove progressives and leftists to also challenge ourselves to allow for more expression, rather than falling back on our own sense of righteousness.

Intent vs. Impact

One area where progressives have backed ourselves into a corner is an emphasis on impact over intent. If you’ve spent any time in progressive spaces in the last decade or so, you’ve probably heard something like this: If you step on my toe, it may have been an accident, but it still hurts and you should apologize; the issue isn’t whether you intended to step on my toe, it’s the impact of you stepping on my toe. Across a variety of topics and behaviors, impact has been emphasized over intent, to the point where trying to explain your intent will often be met with eye-rolls or a dressing-down. If someone tells you what you said was sexist or racist, you shouldn’t explain that you didn’t mean to be sexist or racist; you should hear them out, apologize, and pledge to do better next time.

This is very simple moral math, and it can be a useful framework. Impact does matter, and often it is the best course of action to understand that your words hurt someone, and so you should apologize and try not to do that again.

But when impact becomes the only measure of goodness or badness, or the primary measure, or when someone else’s experience of our words becomes the dictionary by which we define what those words mean, or when evaluating potential impact is the primary way we’re supposed to relate to each other, there are some clear limitations and some big downsides.

Intent matters. It matters a lot, especially if we are trying to build trust between people and within communities. Impact matters too, but a general rule prioritizing impact over intent risks one person’s emotional experience trumping all else, including the ability to have frank and complex conversations. And when impact is used to shut down speech, discourse, and inquiry, we have a problem.

Take the favorite example of this particular column, “From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.” If we’re considering intent vs. impact, a whole lot of people are saying that the impact of that phrase is to make them feel unsafe — what they hear is a desire to destroy the state of Israel, which almost certainly means displacement and possibly death of millions of Jews. Those who use the phrase argue that’s not their intent — that the intent behind the phrase is multi-faceted, that it’s kind of a “depends on who you ask” thing, and that no doubt some people who use it do in fact mean “death to Israel,” but others mean “Israelis and Palestinians coexist in a single state with equal rights” and still others mean “two-state solution.”

If what matters is impact, though, and if intent is largely irrelevant, it’s worth asking why the phrase remains in use among progressives in the US when many, many (although of course far from all) Jews say they find it hateful and bordering on genocidal.

Part of the reason, I suspect, is that young progressive communities in particular have enforced a binary of oppressed vs. not oppressed, or at the very least established a simplistic kind of hierarchy, and have made oppressed status a valuable currency within progressive spaces. And look, to some extent that’s useful: Understanding hierarchies of oppression and how some groups and individuals enjoy unearned benefits is absolutely crucial to being a decent person in the world. But not all oppressions code onto the American Black / white or Judeo-Christian / not-Christian binary. I suspect that one reason the concerns of many progressive Jews and many progressive people who support Israel’s existence aren’t being taken as seriously as complaints from other oppressed groups is that, according to the American progressive algebra, Jews are white and privileged while Muslims and Arabs are an oppressed minority. These facts don’t quite map on to reality (a lot of Jews are not white) nor to the reality outside of the US (Jews are a tiny global minority, and are an oppressed minority in a great many nations; Jews have experienced among the most extreme outcomes of ethnic and religious hatred and continue to live with that fear and trauma; and Jews have been oppressed out of existence in many, many countries, including many of Israel’s neighbors). In Israel, Israelis are majority-Jewish and have much, much more power than Palestinians, and the actual math of this conflict includes roughly 1,400 dead Israeli civilians, most of them Jews and innocent civilians, and more than 12,700 dead Palestinians, most of them Muslims and innocent civilians. But a simplified math of computing oppression using an American calculator can short-circuit the ability to fully understand a dispute or disparity, whether we’re talking about an interpersonal dispute between two individuals, or a disparity between two large and complex groups.

My sense is that a lot of people — many but not all of them Jewish, many but not all of them progressive — are saying, wait a minute, for the past decade or so we’ve been talking about prioritizing the lived experiences of historically marginalized people, and emphasizing that impact matters more than intent; now, many Jews are telling you that the impact of phrases like “from the river to the sea” is to make them feel afraid and unwelcome and targeted; why do these progressive ideals not apply to Jews? And I would say that they have a point.

I would also say that this is an opportunity to reflect on whether the principle of impact over intent is a good one, or if perhaps we need to modify it somewhat — and not just in this convenient scenario when the people being impacted are primarily Jewish.

There are two competing interests here: The right of students to feel welcome on campus, and the right of students to express ideas that others may find offensive or unwelcoming. Every student has a right to be safe on campus, which is why administrators should take quick action against anyone who compromises student safety: Those who act violently, obviously, but also those who threaten violence against a group or individual. The trickier bits come in with the question of feeling safe on campus. Ideally, every student should feel safe on campus. In reality, feelings of safety often conflict with a more freewheeling intellectual environment. Where one draws the line is always vastly imperfect. But the line-drawing should be guided by larger principles — especially when your hackles are up and you’re the one feeling offended, angry, or unsafe.

And so it has taken me far too many words to say that these are not easy issues to navigate, and anyone who tells you they are either hasn’t really thought about it or is so ideologically blinkered you perhaps shouldn’t trust them. What I can say, though, is that many of us are finding that the most important principles we hold are being severely tested in this moment — that one outcome of war is often a collective willingness to bend our principles to match our desired outcomes. Just as often, though, the benefit of hindsight allows us to later see the folly in this very human impulse.

These are tough conversations. We should have them, not shut them down.

xx Jill