For a while, I have wanted to read an extended critique of concerns about freedom of speech. Ample time has been devoted (including on this Substack) to the articulation of such concerns, yet there are many people (mainly left-liberals) who regard cancel culture as exaggerated. Therefore, I was happy to see the publication of The Cancel Culture Panic: How an American obsession went global by Adrian Daub, a Professor of German and Comparative Literature at Stanford University.
For Daub, ‘people talk about cancel culture so that they don’t have to talk about other things… [such as] problems of labor and job security, problems of our semi-digital public space, problems of accountability and surveillance.’ Therefore, a ‘moral panic’ has developed in which (mainly) conservatives exaggerate problems on university campuses. Daub thinks little of commentators such as Jordan Peterson, Chris Rufo and Dinesh D’Souza, dismissing ‘the often abysmal quality of their texts’ and their ‘sloppy and careless’ analysis.
When Daub critiques such writers, he is on solid ground. As I have said before, I worry about the tendency for commentators outside academia to exaggerate problems in universities for their own purposes. In the parts of the book which reviewed these authors and regretted their global influence, I found myself nodding in agreement.
Daub makes important points about methodology. Even if one acknowledges that the freedom of speech rights of certain people have been violated – and almost every campaign can point to cases of genuine victimization – the question is how much significance one should attach to these cases.
Of course, some conservatives do not reflect on this and exaggerate the importance of such cases, Daub dedicating several chapters to this phenomenon. Yet these culture warriors are easy to critique; instances of victimization are more difficult to explain. Though he acknowledges legitimate cases such as Alison Roman, David Shor and Greg Patton (‘something went seriously wrong when it comes to these individuals’), Daub dedicates little space to exploring what exactly went wrong. Given his point about the methodological significance of individual cases, this is quite an omission.
A section on self-censorship has particular issues. Many critics of cancel culture overlook this dimension of freedom of speech, yet it is pivotal and Mill dedicates a considerable part of On Liberty to the problem. Daub deserves credit for addressing it and acknowledges the (discouraging) results of polls on self-censorship. But in seeking to minimize such data, he makes some questionable assertions.
Unwisely (see below), he dismisses the methodology of relevant polling (‘One gets the impression that these surveys were created to precisely deliver the kinds of dramatic results that can then be ground up in cancel culture philippics’). Moreover, he points to much more indirect restrictions on self-expression (‘There was simply no space in this survey for the answer: “I censor myself—for example, by not making my race, gender, sexuality, identity, or culture an issue.”) and argues that, in certain cases, self-censorship is mere politeness (‘It is unlikely that, say, a Black man who is a fervent supporter of Black Lives Matter would go around sharing that position unbidden with, say, his pharmacist or his car dealer.’).
These sidesteps are unconvincing. We should note Habermas’ concept of the public sphere, a space between state and society in which rational conclusions about the issues of the day are reached. This is a fundamental part of liberal democracy and broader questions of discrimination and private civility should not be conflated with it. Academia is a crucial part of this public sphere and, if researchers and students are engaging in public self-censorship – returning to Daub’s example, let us imagine that the fervent supporter of Black Lives Matter were self-censoring in seminars – this will not do. If such restraint is mere politeness, why do conservatives report higher rates than liberals?
The origins of the freedom of speech crisis (or panic) is a related question. Given Daub doubts the extent of this, he must demonstrate its spurious origins. Therefore, much of The Cancel Culture Panic concerns the spread of American discourse about universities to other Western countries,
‘[Cancel culture] discourse, which was once as quintessentially American as only a Fourth of July address at Mount Rushmore could be, has long since become an export item… this American idea travels the globe in journalism and books. Articles the world over have cast a gimlet eye on US campuses. An entire class of experts has emerged, even if their expertise mostly consists of having been to a US campus, or knowing someone who has.’
Yet despite America’s cultural reach, this can be overemphasized. Countries do not import American concerns indiscriminately; they adopt those which speak to national contexts. The Harvard political scientist Pippa Norris offers a more convincing account. In a survey of almost 2500 academics in over 100 countries, she finds a ‘fish-out-of-water’ effect. In developed countries with liberal cultures, conservative scholars report threats to freedom of speech. In developing countries with conservative cultures, liberal scholars report such threats.
Norris’ explanation is economical; those scholars who go against societal trends are vulnerable to kickback. The strength of this argument is its international data. Given the breadth of the trend, it seems to have an independent basis and (in many cases) to be weakly related to American cultural pressure. This explains recent trends in the West. As societies (and universities) have become more liberal, conservatives have perceived greater pressure.
Of course, it is not as straightforward as this. In the last fifteen months, radical left-wingers – who are not liberals and hold some very unpopular ideas – have faced great pressure over support for Palestine, particularly in Germany. Given Daub’s specialism in Germany and the space he dedicates to discussions of the German press, it is a shame he did not reflect on these cases (perhaps the publication schedule precluded this).
Overall, The Cancel Culture Panic advances debates about academic freedom and cancel culture, developing an interesting ‘moral panic’ hypothesis. When Daub addresses the likes of Jordan Peterson and Chris Rufo, he is convincing. But on more difficult targets, he lands few blows.
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Another good post Thomas.