A Bridge Too Far?
A new book takes a hard look at higher education, but also offers hope for reform
By James Lileks
"Howard Clifford Running off the Tacoma Narrows Bridge During the Collapse" by Jim Bashford, 1940. University of Washington Special Collections, Public Domain.
Walking around Boston the other day, I saw an exhibit of masters theses projects at the Boston School of Architecture. The school is housed in an ugly building, of course, which is like making Frankenstein’s Monster the spokesman for a plastic surgeon. You would like to think that the exhibit might have some grand, ennobling public structures—a train station with a broad vaulted roof, statuary showing the old Roman gods of transit and timetables, a slender skyscraper piercing the empyrean beyond.
Alas, no. Most of the exhibits had a social justice angle. They were out to fix the world. An office building for neurodivergent workers. Swoopy waterfront structures for the homeless. A prison that had nicer cells, with an entrance that was designed to reduce anxiety.
If this is the spirit abroad in architecture departments, how deeply soaked in dreary modern thought are the rest of the academic disciplines? You’ll find the answers in Higher Education in America: It’s Worse Than You Think, a new compendium of philippics and prescriptions edited by Kevin D. Roberts.
The essays, written by educators and intellectuals united by a dislike of the smothering caul of wet-wool Marxism and modern wokery, approach the state of higher ed from three directions. The first section of the book, “The Economic Model,” concerns the hideous costs and low returns faced by many graduates. If you’re up for a hammer-and-tongs attack on credentialism, this is for you. The second section concerns the bureaucracy, and the way the nomenklatura stifles change. It includes Jonathan Butcher’s chapter on the critical race theory (CRT)/diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) problem—a brisk and damning account of the way the Frankfurt School scuttled across the ocean to burrow into American education. It really belongs in the third section, “The Leftist Domination”—but then again, every aspect of the problem comes back to that.
The entire book is about the leftist domination, and that’s the reason the right is alarmed about higher ed. There would be fewer conservative complaints about tenure, bureaucracy, and inflated costs if the universities leaned right. Conservatives make jokes about useless degrees in Peruvian Basket Weaving Studies, but would probably be less annoyed if someone went into debt to get a history degree with an emphasis on Betsy Ross’ influence on post-colonial flag sewing.
There would be fewer conservative complaints about tenure, bureaucracy, and inflated costs if the universities leaned right.
But that’s not the world in which we live. As economist Andrew Gillen notes in his chapter “The Leftist Monopoly Problem”: “By the early 2020s, for every professor on the right, there were 6.9 professors on the left.”
Imagine if you were going in for surgery and learned that your surgeon had graduated from a school where 7 out of 8 doctors believed in leeches and humours. You’d get off the gurney. But we have no such problems with an imbalance in higher education. Even if a teacher isn’t tamping a wad of ’60s radical twaddle down the students’ throats, they are dispositionally progressive or liberal, and hence that cannot help but tinge the curriculum.
Why It Matters
If you’re a parent shelling out tens of thousands of dollars, you might not want your child’s brain reformed at an impressionable age into something that thinks Texan Christians are the domestic Taliban but Gaza is full of queer-friendly venues.
If you’re a taxpayer, you might not want public money going to an institution whose professors believe that the country is irredeemably and uniquely evil, even though it’s paying them to do nothing but put Howard Zinn and Michel Foucault in a blender and serve the brackish slop in red Solo cups.
If you’re a student, you might want a more rounded education, something that holds the Western experience as unique and valuable, and gives you a grounding in your own civilization that makes you less likely to fall for a romantic vision of a deindustrialized multi-culti groupthink commune divorced from history and human nature.
If you’re a taxpayer, you might not want public money going to an institution whose professors believe that the country is irredeemably and uniquely evil.
If you’re an employer, you might want that degree to mean something. Hah! As college president Fr. Deacon Kyle Washut observes in “The Student Experience”:
Employers who could once use a college degree as a shortcut human-resources check for the qualities of grit, critical thinking, communication skills, and basic professionalism can no longer make that assumption; more than a quarter of surveyed managers say that they would refuse to hire a recent college graduate today precisely because of this lack of basic soft skills.
What to do, then? There are proposals. You can build your own institution, such as Hillsdale College, which the elites will always regard with sneers: “explicitly traditional” equals “home-schooling for flat-earthers.” Or, you can remake existing universities from within. As former Emory University professor Mark Bauerlein writes in his chapter “The Woke University Decline”:
The alternative is this: to build centers that do what humanities departments used to do in a more prosperous era. These centers would run as independent units in schools of arts and sciences, integrated into the undergraduate program, not standing merely as extracurricular add-ons . . . These centers hire their own people, mount their own classes, graduate their own majors, and report directly to the provost. Funding would come from state coffers and private donors, not drawn from the regular budget and thus resented as a drain on other departments. The curriculum would impart exactly what the professors have renounced: Western civilization, Great Books, high art, and the American heritage, all of it taught in a mode of understanding and appreciation, not nihilism and discontent.
Sigh. What a wonderful world that would be. This is preferable because—ideally—you end up with the institution intact, but improved. Lots of nice old buildings with ivy, a good brand name with a solid rep everyone respects out of habit. But there’s no guarantee of success, and it takes a while. We want a quick trot through the institutions, not a long march.

A Cultural Correction
Also, while we’re at it, we need to remake the entire coddled, bratty culture. Editor Roberts has an entry on the necessity of “A Cultural Correction,” and he’s right to call for college culture to get more rigorous, honest, and safe for free speech. “America’s students are owed a campus culture that is conducive to the pursuit of truth,” he asserts. “Delivering that culture requires administrators who will insist on academic seriousness and who will lead with moral clarity. Policies and mission statements mean nothing unless they reinforce a community strong enough to resist mob intimidation.”
True. But he’s talking about college culture. It will take a larger cultural correction to fix higher education. Collectivism, identity politics, oikophobic contempt of America specifically and the West in general, romantic attachments to violent “liberation” movements—they have to become uncool. Showing up on campus with a Che shirt should be like swanning around on the quadrangle wearing a duotone picture of Hitler. When it is uncool for youth to be leftists, the institutions will change.
But don’t hold your breath; there’s something in the Western breast that makes the adolescent heart give in to its left ventricle, especially if they were swayed by a charismatic history teacher in high school who showed them the real truths.
So, should we just give up on the humanities? You could say it’s time.
Too many people go to college. Society falsely equates a degree with knowledge and wisdom. The state subsidizes degrees that serve no useful function. When these three things change, the debate about bias will fade because there will be fewer people saddled with debt and irrelevant skill sets. This doesn’t consign the humanities to oblivion—it returns them to the autodidacts who have the drive and desire to learn.
It’s not as if an education in the humanities can only be found on campus. The bien-pensant may sniff at those who studied Euripides and Suetonius and Luther and Bastiat on YouTube, but these online students of the world didn’t sit down and learn because a test was coming and a paper was due. They did it because they were hungry and had discovered that this hunger was a delightful appetite that could never be sated. There is always so much more to learn. There is never a day when they walk in robes to Elgar’s “Pomp and Circumstance” and think, well, that’s done. For them, class is always in session.
If you think it’s all worth saving, conservative activist Christopher Rufo provides the rallying cry at the book’s conclusion:
Legislation eliminating DEI mandates and elastic clauses in accreditation law, executive orders demanding merit-based standards and outcome accountability, philanthropic capital redirected from corrupt institutions to competitive startups, legal enforcement through Title VI and other civil-rights laws, trustee assertions of authority over captured faculty, civics centers with independent hiring, and the construction of alternative pipelines for classical education—these are all mantles ready to be taken up.
Yes. And, as the fellow said in “The Princess Bride”: Have fun storming the castle—although if a Boston School of Architecture Ph.D. student designed it, don’t worry, the drawbridge will be down in the name of inclusion and accessibility.
