Don't even ask how I tripped over this one; but it got my attention in a great big hurry.
First, some background.
Last week, we dropped my daughter off at college. It's her freshman year. She is our oldest. It's a big deal for all of us and one we're only beginning to come to grips with.
I'm over-the-moon happy for her. It's a small, high-calibre institution--her first choice. The place has managed to cultivate some super-dedicated teaching-oriented professors, from what we can tell, and places great value on their professional and academic interrelationships with students.
She's already made plenty of friends. She got all the courses she wanted. Reviewing the reading lists, I'm delighted to see plenty of meaty, conventional classics. No fru-fru Marxist manifestos (e.g., from Howard Zinn). The school is in the South. That may help explain it. That all helps make us happy for her and enables me to walk by her near-empty room without getting too sentimental.
She's more than two hours away from us now--by plane. And yet I sensed, as we drove away, that I would have felt the same kind of gut-wrenching grey-sadness-mixed-with-excitement I've been feeling even had she gone somewhere close. I haven't written about it yet because the emotions are still way too raw (couldja tell?). The insights are many, but so far at least, inadequately coalesced--even for a blog.
That's all background--an explanation of what sensitized me to this new book ('Romance in the Ivory Tower: The Rights and Liberty of Conscience', by Paul R. Abramson)
--which I'll admit I haven't read... and don't plan to. The reviews and endorsements are enough.
The first suspicion-raising endorsement featured on Amazon is from Nadine Strossen, President of the ACLU. The other endorsements are from male college professors. That makes perfect sense in light of the book's primary thesis: college professors should be allowed to hit on their students.
The picture below is of the author, Paul R. Abramson, described by the Chronicle of Higher Education as "a happily married, 57-year-old psychology professor at UCLA... who says he has never had a serious romantic relationship with one of his students."
I try very hard to resist premature judgment--really I do--particularly based on appearance. I don't know this guy. He may be perfectly nice and utterly moral. For all I know, he may be devoutly religious--scrupulous about excising any remnants of lust in his heart.
But I'm sorry, in light of the Svengali picture (above), the topic of the book and the triple qualifier to his statement--no serious romantic relationship with one of his students--I'm not betting against my better (and in this case admittedly snap) judgment: this smells fishy. (I'm just imagining the home dialogue: But honey, it wasn't serious. It was only sex, and she wasn't registered in my class this semester!)
Here's the book description on Amazon, in its entirety:
Allen Ginsberg once declared that "the best teaching is done in bed," but most university administrators would presumably disagree. Many universities prohibit romantic relationships between faculty members and students, and professors who transgress are usually out of a job. In Romance in the Ivory Tower, Paul Abramson takes aim at university policies that forbid relationships between faculty members and students. He argues provocatively that the issue of faculty-student romances transcends the seemingly trivial matter of who sleeps with whom and engages our fundamental constitutional rights.
By what authority, Abramson asks, did the university become the arbiter of romantic etiquette among consenting adults? Do we, as consenting adults, have a constitutional right to make intimate choices as long as they do not cause harm? Abramson contends that we do, and bases this claim on two arguments. He suggests that the Ninth Amendment (which states that the Constitution's enumeration of certain rights should not be construed to deny others) protects the "right to romance." And, more provocatively, he argues that the "right to romance" is a fundamental right of conscience--as are freedom of speech and freedom of religion.
Campus romances happen. The important question is not whether they should be encouraged or prohibited but whether the choice to engage in such a relationship should be protected or precluded. Abramson argues ringingly that our freedom to make choices--to worship, make a political speech, or fall in love--is fundamental. Rules forbidding faculty-student romances are not only unconstitutional but set dangerous precedents for further intrusion into rights of privacy and conscience.
My libertarian readers may be inclined to disagree, but as a parent, it seems rather obvious that although 18 is the
legal age for consent (a fact that I must, and do, accept as a matter of law), it is a transitional age in terms of maturity, judgment and social development. Recent brain science backs this up. Whatever kind of psychology Abramson teaches, it apparently doesn't take that into account and that's disgraceful.
A 'romance' (read: extra-marital sex) instigated by a (probably married, usually male) college professor 10, 20, 30 or even 40 years older, with tremendous power over a student's future is neither healthy nor moral. Were the same behavior being advocated in a corporate setting (e.g., male boss and much younger female employee) it would be utterly laughable. I have little doubt that such a policy would be decried (and appropriately so!) by most on the left
and the right. Lilly Tomlin and Dolly Parton pretty much dispensed with that one in the movie 9-to-5. Don't like that comparison? Ask yourself how many leftist academics are writing books defending the Catholic church for enabling sexual predation by priests. But I digress...
Setting aside those arguments, it's also not economically
rational for an institution to declare open season on 'romance' between professors and students--
at least not so long as the $40,000 tuition check still has the parents' names on it! (Here's a thought to chew on: with tuitions going every upward, much faster than inflation, and more kids seeking financial aide from precisely the institutions they're attending, parental power in this regard is reduced. Hmm...)
Abramson's Constitutional argument also falls flat: the
government is not preventing him from sleeping with his students; his
employer is. Don't like it? Find a more libertine employer. That shouldn't be terribly hard in American academia today where institutions are practically falling over one another to prove how 'progressive' they are.
Besides, if not for the benefits that those like Abramson enjoy via the tenure system (a ridiculous tradition that squelches competition and encourages radicalization, IMHO), those looking to hit on their students wouldn't hesitate to move to a place where they could do so more freely. Those who don't buy the moral argument can stick with me on a free-market one: some of us would choose to steer our daughters elsewhere.