Power, Identity and the Battle Over Campus Culture

At a recent talk at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Fredrik DeBoer, the prominent blogger, asked his audience whether a first-time offender who punched someone randomly on the street should be sent to jail. The students said “no.”

Then, he asked what should happen to a first-time offender who struck an intimate partner. The response: stunned silence.

DeBoer’s point was that moral judgments on campus are often identity-laden rather than reflecting consistent, objective standards. His audience did not consist of Kantians who believed that a valid rule should be universally applicable to all human beings and not subject to individual situations, preferences or contexts.

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As Timur Kuran, a professor of economics, political science, and Islamic studies at Duke, observes:

In Professor Kuran’s words:

A recent decision by the University of California, San Diego, also seems to reflect the prevalence of a certain kind of identitarianism.

On April 9th, the university revised its policies regarding access to selective majors that limit enrollment. UCSD’s selective majors include: All biological science, data science, and public health majors, as well as those in bioengineering, chemical engineering, computer science and engineering, electrical and computer engineering, mechanical and aerospace engineering, nanoengineering, and structural engineering.

Beginning in summer 2025, entry into selective majors by continuing students will use “a point system that awards one point each for having a 3.0 GPA or higher in the major screening courses; California residency; Pell Grant eligibility; and first-generation college status.” (This policy does not apply to high school seniors who directly apply for admission into a selective major like computer science, though, apparently, there are similar preferences for admission to the university itself.) “Students with the highest number of points will be admitted until all available spaces within the major have been filled.”

I should note that some other UC schools do not, apparently, allow any students to shift into one particular selective major, computer science, at all.

Are such caps justified? I have my doubts.

At the City University of New York, quotas for admission into nursing programs at the four-year campuses have very low caps, which, I was told, reflects a lack of faculty, laboratory and clinical capacity. But the University of Texas at Arlington, in stark contrast, has over 25,000 nursing students across all programs and a NCLEX pass rate of over 92 percent. Its BSN program alone has over 5,000 students, the MSN program has nearly 6,000, and the RN to BSN program has over 8,000.

Yes, there are capacity constraints—but in nursing, one of the contributors is a desire among various parties to restrict supply.

Let’s turn to another example, computer science. My own view is that the only legitimate bases for restricting admission into computer science programs are academic under-preparedness and grades that indicate an inability to succeed in that field.

There are a number of ways to expand access. One computer science department that I’m familiar with hired talented high school teachers to deliver introductory courses. These teachers proved to be as effective as traditionally trained academics. That department also teamed with Google to place a number of its employees in the classroom. They were able to offer the kind of practical as well as cutting-edge insights that drew on their own workplace experience.

Meanwhile, Yale has offered Harvard’s “Computer Science 50 (CS50) Introduction to Computer Science I,” supplemented by a team of nearly 40 teaching assistants.

My view is simple and straightforward: UCSD’s move seems to be asking for a lawsuit. It also seems patronizing. If you are good enough to get into UCSD … then well, you should be good enough to get into a major of your choice … and again, if the problem is one of demand versus supply, then create co-majors, certificate programs, or have the intro course be online/hybrid.

This is a solvable problem. Yet it seems that well-meaning administrators are trying to advance a political agenda without being caught, or at not being criticized.

The great cultural and intellectual historian Jackson Lears once described identity politics as a tragic necessity, recognizing its critical role in advocating for justice and equality for marginalized groups, while also being mindful of the complex challenges and potential for divisiveness it can bring into social, educational and political spheres.

Professor Lears’s comment at once acknowledges the vital function identity politics plays in exposing and addressing historical and systemic injustices, while also recognizing the potential limitations of organizing solely around particular identities.

Identity politics emerged in the 1970s as a much-needed response to the systemic injustices and inequalities experienced by specific groups based on their race, gender, ethnicity, sexuality and other identity markers. It offered a way for these groups to articulate their unique experiences, advocate for their rights and seek redress for historical wrongs.

Identity politics provides a platform for visibility and a voice to those who have been historically marginalized or silenced. It enables these groups to form communities and movements focused on promoting their interests, leading to greater political empowerment and policy changes. Yet this focus can lead to what is perceived as a fragmentation of social and political movements, diluting a unified approach to fighting broader inequalities. The tragedy also lies in the potential backlash from other groups who may feel alienated or threatened by the rise of identity-based advocacy.

The need for identity politics underscores a failure of broader systems and societal structures to adequately recognize and integrate the diversity of experiences and needs of all its members. What’s “tragic,” Professor Lears implies, is the fact that such politics wouldn't be necessary in a truly equitable society.

Identity politics can serve as a form of corrective justice, seeking to balance scales that have been historically tipped against certain groups. It can challenge deep-seated biases and institutional barriers that have perpetuated inequality. But this approach can inadvertently reinforce rigid group identities that essentialize members of a group to specific characteristics or experiences, thus potentially entrenching divisions within society. It can also complicate alliances across different groups who might share economic or social interests but diverge on identity lines. This can hinder the formation of broader coalitions that are often necessary for significant societal change.

Even as identity politics allows for a multiplicity of voices and perspectives in the public sphere, thus enriching democratic deliberations and responsiveness, it can lead to balkanization, where society becomes divided into smaller, internally homogeneous groups that prioritize their particular interests over common goods.

The alternative to identity politics, we are often told, is an approach that seeks to help every individual, regardless of their group identity, flourish. This perspective advocates for “universalistic” and “egalitarian” policies and practices that are designed to benefit all members of society and emphasize commonality and shared human experience over differences.

But by trying to reduce disadvantages to the individual, rather than the group, level, such an approach often results in helping the most advantaged of a disadvantaged group. If we are to successfully address the specific and systemic challenges faced by certain groups, we must combine universal and targeted group interventions.

Which brings us to the larger question of power on campus.

In the United States, power rests with organized interest groups, rather than individual actors who operate independently of larger structures.

That insight, which reflects the arguments of such theorists as Arthur Bentley, Robert Dahl, Charles E. Lindblom, Theodore Lowi, and David Truman, envisions the polity as a complex system where power is dispersed among multiple groups that compete and negotiate to influence policymaking. This theoretical approach recognizes the diversity of interests in society and provides a framework for various groups to participate in the political process.

Of course, the power of interest groups in a pluralistic society is double-edged. On one hand, they can enhance democratic participation by advocating for diverse interests and ensuring various sectors of society have a voice in politics. They can further amplify their influence by strategically forming coalitions with other interest groups. On the other hand, groups with more resources can dominate the discourse, leading to an imbalance where wealthier and more organized sectors exert disproportionate influence, while even weaker groups with veto power can protect their narrow interest at the expense of the public welfare.

There are, certainly, alternatives, or supplements, to a pluralistic perspective. These include:

• The power elite theory associated with C. Wright Mills that argues that a small, cohesive elite class make the most crucial decisions.
• Ideas about corporatism associated with Philippe C. Schmitter and Gerhard Lehmbruch, which suggests that power is exercised through negotiation and collaboration between the government and a few crucial interest sectors (such as labor and business groups), often bypassing the broader democratic process.
• The new institutionalism associated with Theda Skocpol, which maintains that institutions actively shape the behavior of political actors through various norms, rules and procedures.
• Network Theory, associated with Manuel Castells and Mark Granovetter, which shows how relationships, interconnections and flows of information and influence among various actors within a network (which can include interest groups, individuals, agencies, and institutions) influence political outcomes.

To this list, I’d add another, a Gramsci- or Foucault-inspired emphasis on ideology as a source of power. Power, from this perspective, is exercised not just through coercion or economic power but through cultural and ideological means.

Gramsci‘s concept of cultural hegemony describes how a ruling class’s worldview becomes the accepted cultural norm, and shapes societal values and expectations in ways that align with the interests of the ruling elite. This hegemony is maintained not through overt force but through cultural institutions like education, media, and religion, which propagate these values.

Ideologies work, in Gramsci’s view, by presenting the specific interests and values of the dominant class as universal and natural, persuading subordinated classes to accept their moral, political and cultural values without questioning them. Ideology, in short, works through consent. The public accepts the legitimacy of these norms and rules—and internalizes them as their own.

Gramsci also discussed the role of intellectuals in this process, distinguishing between “traditional” intellectuals (who see themselves as autonomous from the ruling class but often sustain existing power structures) and “organic” intellectuals (who emerge organically from and are integral to their social class). Those organic intellectuals can help overthrow cultural hegemony by creating alternative narratives and practices that challenge the dominant class’s ideologies.

Education and media, in turn, are crucial battlegrounds that can either reinforce or challenge ideological control and the meanings, norms and values that people accept.

You might well ask: What does any of this have to do with higher education?

Power on a college campus can be analyzed through various theoretical lenses. Each theory offers a different perspective on how power is distributed and exercised within the collegiate environment.

Pluralist theory emphasizes the competition and negotiation among various campus groups (such as faculty, administrators, student organizations, alumni and donors) as they vie for influence over university policies and resources. Decisions are viewed as the outcome of bargaining among these groups, each with distinct interests and varying degrees of power. Power is decentralized and distributed among various stakeholders who must negotiate and compromise to achieve their goals.

The Power Elite approach focuses on how power is concentrated in the hands of a small group of top administrators and high-ranking faculty members, possibly along with influential donors and alumni, who dominate major campus decisions, including strategic planning, financial allocations, and major campus initiatives.

Corporatist theory suggests that universities function through a system of organized interests where certain groups are officially or unofficially recognized as representatives of specific constituencies. These groups are incorporated into the formal governance structure and are consulted or collaborate on policy decisions.

The New Institutionalism examines the role of institutional structures, norms and rules in shaping campus behavior and decisions, which are heavily influenced by established routines and the shared values within the institution, often resisting rapid change or innovation.

Network theory looks at how relationships and informal networks influence power dynamics and decision-making on campus. Power is distributed across a network of actors whose influence is dependent on their position within these networks and their ability to leverage relational ties.

Ideology, as conceptualized by theorists like Antonio Gramsci and Michel Foucault, plays a significant role in shaping campus power dynamics. These thinkers provide frameworks for understanding how power is not just about overt actions or policies but also about how beliefs, norms and knowledge are formed and perpetuated.

This influences:

• Curriculum content: What is taught and how subjects are framed, often marginalizing alternative perspectives or disciplines that challenge the status quo.
• Institutional Values: Including an emphasis on competition, meritocracy, professionalism, and specific views on what constitutes academic excellence.
• Gatekeeping: Who gets to produce knowledge and which academic contributions are highly valued, which tends to downplay community service, mentoring and public scholarship.
• Disciplinary Mechanisms: The ways in which students and faculty are evaluated and disciplined (for example, through grades, peer reviews, codes of conduct), which reflect power relations and control through the application of knowledge.

Just as ideologies can reinforce power structures, they also provide a site for resistance, for critiques of institutional practices, and for promoting and legitimizing alternate discourses that can challenge traditional views and reshape power dynamics.

The conflict over Gaza has ignited a power struggle on campus that encompasses everything from hiring practices to academic freedom and investment and discipline policies.

Although the campus civil war is most visible at elite private institutions, it is taking a different, but equally significant, form at the broad-access campuses that, in the face of intense financial, enrollment and political pressures, must make very difficult decisions about where to invest and divest their limited resources.

As a historian, I may be able to look at the past with 20/20 hindsight; but my ability to predict the future is not nearly as good.

Historically, college leaders responded initially to student activism and protest with a mixture of reactions: repressive and conciliatory. There were confrontations, dialogue, negotiations, and cooptation.

Over the longer term, campuses offered a series of accommodations, palliatives and gestures of good will. Selective concessions included student teaching evaluations; new programs, initially in Black Studies and women’s studies; elimination of parietals; creation of co-ed dorms; relaxation of in loco parentis; liberalization of graduation requirements and granting students a greater voice in campus government.

But many other steps, in institutional priorities and practices, took place somewhat under the radar screen. Campuses established honors programs and honors colleges, instituted scholarships conditioned on students’ academic performances, heightened focus on faculty research, and created many vocationally oriented majors even as they also expanded the number of programs—in data science, engineering, the health sciences and neuroscience—that were especially demanding academically.

I can’t imagine what the future will hold, especially in a highly charged political environment in which I detect a lot of public angst over what’s happening on college campuses. But if I had to speculate, I’d say this: The most selective, resourced campuses are likely to alter their approach to admissions and faculty hiring in a self-conscious effort to reduce the number of campus activists. They’re also likely to further prioritize STEM fields, emphasize the more quantitative social sciences, and allow many humanities fields to shrink. Meanwhile, the less well-funded institutions, which are already under pressure to downsize, will add to the steps they’ve already taken to focus their curriculum on career-oriented fields.

Campus protests are a double-edged sword. They can be a potent driver of change, but they also provoke a backlash, polarize public opinion, exacerbate social tensions and undermine the legitimacy and credibility of the very institutions that they are seeking to reform.

The ivory tower stands on shaky ground, and its foundations are far more fragile and vulnerable than they might seem. Let’s not ignore the cracks in the façade.