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Laboratory for Free Expression
Baccalaureate Address: May 24–25, 2003
Summer 2003
by Richard Levin ’74PhD
Four years ago, when I welcomed you at your Freshman Assembly, I reflected the widespread optimism that accompanied our entry into a new millennium. I spoke of the potential of the Information Revolution to raise the standard of living here and around the world, and I heralded the coming Genetics Revolution and its potential for dramatic improvement in human health. I suggested that the economic and social impact of these developments would equal or exceed that of the Industrial Revolution of the 18th century, the building of the railroads in the 19th century, and the invention and diffusion of the automobile in the 20th century.
I would still stand by this prediction, but how very different the world seems four years later. The challenges we have all faced, both outside and within the university, were not those we expected four years ago. Shortly after you came to Yale, our rapidly growing economy sputtered to a halt. Unemployment increased, and the stock markets tumbled. Then came the appalling attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, the anthrax scare, military intervention in Afghanistan, and the war in Iraq. Meanwhile, the campus was saddened this January by the tragic death of four students in an auto accident and shocked this week by a bombing at the law school.
You entered Yale at a time of great optimism, and you leave at a time of great uncertainty. The opportunities presented by the revolutions in information technology and genetics persist, and they will be yours to make the most of in the years ahead. But these opportunities will be most productively pursued in an environment of reduced uncertainty, and the creation of such an environment will require clarity, wisdom, and ingenuity.
Despite America’s unprecedented military power, the principles defining the geo-political order of the planet remain uncertain—in part because of America’s ambivalence about its role in the world and in part because of the world’s ambivalence about America’s power. Is the future to be guided by a unilateralist America, or by a wider community of nations? Is America’s objective to spread democratic institutions throughout the world, or is it merely to unseat the most egregious of tyrants? Can peace in the Middle East be achieved, and, if it is, will terrorism subside? Finding the answers to these questions will require our best efforts—your best efforts.
When I greeted you four years ago, I related the story of Edward Whymper, the 19th-century British mountaineer who, at the age of 25 after seven unsuccessful attempts, made the first ascent of the Matterhorn. I provided you with examples of Whymper’s curiosity, resourcefulness, and analytic thinking to inspire you to prepare for the challenges of a revolutionary time. But in fact the lessons derived from Whymper’s experience are no less relevant to the challenging uncertainties we confront today. Let me reinforce these lessons by recalling what I told you once before:
“Perhaps the most impressive demonstration of Whymper’s curiosity, resourcefulness, and analytic thinking is his discussion of how, after seven failed attempts to climb the Matterhorn from the southwest, he decided to attack the mountain from the northeast. From this direction, the perspective represented in most photographs, the mountain appears to be utterly inaccessible, yet it yielded to Whymper’s first attempt. What led him to take a new approach? First, he noticed that snow accumulated on the steep eastern face of the mountain, despite what appeared to be a slope of 60 to 70 degrees. By hiking to untraveled passes both north and south of the mountain, he confirmed that the slope, despite appearances, was no more than 40 degrees. Second, he observed that the strata of rock in the mountain were not parallel to the ground; instead, they sloped upward from southwest to northeast. This meant that the ledges, and the possible hand and footholds that they offered, sloped inward on the northeast side, making them easier for the climber than on the more frequently attempted route.
“In this example there are many lessons that bear on your [life's] adventure. You can turn repeated failure into success if you are curious enough, resourceful enough, and analytic enough to look at things in a new way. You have to think outside the box. Don’t take received opinion for granted. Look at problems from all perspectives, and use the power of reason to draw inferences. Ask questions, and don’t hesitate to accept surprising answers if your observations have been careful and your reasoning has been rigorous.”
I have every confidence that you have lived by these lessons these past four years. Curiosity is in abundant supply here. In your course work, at masters' teas and public lectures, and in conversations with your classmates, every one of you has encountered new ideas and new perspectives. And your decisions to embrace, reject, or modify them have shaped your lives. Your resourcefulness is manifest everywhere, in the dozens of new student organizations created by members of your class. Two of you mobilized 66 Yale undergraduates to devote 18,000 hours to tutoring Fair Haven fifth graders in mathematics; another member of your class established a health education program in four local high schools. And as for developing the capacity for analytic thinking—this is nothing less than the primary purpose of the whole curriculum.
Let me take a moment to remind you of the special attributes of the place that has given you ample room to exercise and develop these qualities of open-mindedness, initiative, and critical thinking. Yale, like other great American universities, is a laboratory for free expression, a microcosm of the values we proclaim as the greatest treasures of our constitutional democracy. When the Iraqi war began, I wrote the following words to the entire Yale community:
“In an environment of civility, where we respect and listen carefully to one another, controversy stimulates learning. We need to leave ample space for free expression and bring the tools of reason and analysis to bear on the arguments we hear. In the weeks to come, let us, as a university community, continue to model the free, open, and tolerant society that the United States at its best represents. And let us also learn from this experience of war, through reflection and conversation.”
I’m proud of the way we modeled freedom, openness, and toleration during the past two months. Although there were a small number of incidents in which students were harassed because of their political views, the prevailing atmosphere was one of civility, respect, and a desire to learn. Thanks to the efforts of John Gaddis and Cynthia Farrar and many others, we held 12 teach-ins concerned with various aspects of the war, Iraqi civilization, global governance, nation-building, and patriotism. These provided the community an opportunity for learning at a depth not found in the public news media. These lectures and panel discussions are still worthy of your attention, and all are available in video on the Yale Web site.
The environment we create within the American university is a powerful instrument for mutual understanding among nations. We have nearly 1,800 international students at Yale, and a comparable number of visiting scholars. For many of them, Yale is the first place they have ever lived where they can truly speak their minds, where they can challenge the authority of teachers, where ideas alone prevail—not status, rank, power, or privilege. This struck me forcefully in my conversations last fall with the first cohort of Yale World Fellows. This group of emerging leaders included former cabinet ministers from Peru and Ecuador, the founder of a micro-lending bank in India, a television anchorperson from Cameroon, and a law school dean from China. By their own testimony, the first group of Fellows returns home with a deep appreciation of the values of a democratic society; many of them reported experiencing genuinely free expression and freedom of inquiry for the first time.
In the wake of September 11, our government has understandably required more careful scrutiny of those seeking to enter the country on student visas. It has also, through the Patriot Act and various administrative rulings, begun to restrict the range of subjects that students from certain countries can study and the types of materials they can work with in university laboratories. One recognizes the legitimate concerns for safety and security that drive these changes in policy, but at the same time one worries about excessively restricting who may study here and what they may study.
There will be good reasons for denying entry to some prospective students, but we should remember that an enduring peace requires mutual understanding, and there is no better guarantee of peace than to ensure that the leaders of the next generation have an opportunity to learn from one another during the formative periods of their lives. There is less reason to deny students, once enrolled here, access to the full range of our curriculum and research activities. Unfortunate as it would be to deny visas to promising students who may learn from exposure to a free and open society, it would be even more unfortunate to have such students denied the very freedom we hope they will come to appreciate.
You have had the privilege these past four years of living and working under conditions that gave you almost unlimited opportunity to exercise your curiosity and resourcefulness and to develop your capacity to think critically. You are now prepared to move beyond your Yale adventure to challenges that were unforeseen four years ago, as we heralded the revolutions in science and technology that continue to hold out so much hope for the future. Your task is to shape lives that take full advantage of the liberal education you received here—lives of personal and professional fulfillment, to be sure, but also lives that make a difference in the world. If we are to preserve the freedom that exists in this university and in this nation, if freedom’s blessings are to be extended, peacefully, to those who are oppressed, we will need your engagement and your leadership.
Women and men of the Class of 2003: The world is all before you. Your generation has the potential to end hunger, cure disease, and extend the domain of freedom. Yale has prepared you well, but you will need all the intelligence and wisdom you can muster. You can, you must, and you will rise to meet the challenges of these uncertain and revolutionary times.  |
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