The Diversity Myth

by David O Sacks

  In an October 1990 football game against Oregon, Stanford's irreverent band poked fun at the spotted owl controversy. The most offensive part of the script included the following lines: “Trees and spotted owls are disappearing like crazy and everybody wants to know why…. Mr. Spotted Owl! Mr. Spotted Owl! Your environment has been destroyed, your home is now a roll of Brawny, and your family has flown the coop.”29 Alan Cummings, Stanford's acting director of athletics, suspended the Stanford Band for displaying “an insensitivity and disrespect to the Oregon community.”30 More precisely, of course, the Stanford Band had been “insensitive” to Oregon's humorless environmental community (none of the people employed in that state's logging industry had complained, but for multicultural purposes the loggers apparently were not part of the “Oregon community”).

  In the summer of 1991, several Stanford students had the opportunity to meet with C. Boyden Grey, the chief counsel to President Bush. In the ensuing discussion, Grey argued that not all gender distinctions should be criminalized because some gender differences are real. He tried to drive this point home with the flip observation that “boys will be boys, girls will be girls.” The listeners had heard enough. Chanting “sexist pig,” all but one of the women in the room stood up and left.31 At Stanford, that was considered a successful conclusion to the discussion.

  In the spring of 1992, French professor Robert Cohn was forced into retirement after 32 years of work at Stanford. Cohn explained that his classes were emptied by student boycotts organized by faculty who disagreed with his conservative political views: “Stanford threw me away…. The idea of going into class and finding no students was too painful. But it happened too often.” In spite of Cohn's having received two Guggenheim awards, Stanford's Humanities Center refused to support his research projects. French professor Jean-Marie Apostolides blamed Cohn for his own predicament: “A professor should be capable of renewing himself.”32

  In an act of silent denunciation, one activist pointed a finger at Judge Richard Posner throughout his entire speech at Stanford Law School; when her arm got tired, she used the other one to prop it up. And, for good measure, she also cast a hex (a complicated series of hand movements, accompanied by hissing) on the libertarian judge and author.33

  In the fall of 1990, two row-house residents were given a choice: Either remove the Confederate flag from their room, or be thrown out of housing. In light of this, the first Otero incident, and numerous other threatened or actual removals, the response “You're outta housing” became a favorite reaction to speech critical of multiculturalism.34

  In the spring of 1989, former secretary of state George Shultz was pelted with a french fry (plus ketchup) at the Florence Moore dining hall. His crime consisted of having accepted the lunch invitation of several Stanford students.35

  In 1994, the naming of Yale law professor Stephen Carter as graduation speaker prompted an outcry. A liberal on most positions, Carter (who has questioned the “blackness” of black conservatives—see chapter 2) has nonetheless criticized some aspects of affirmative action. Apparently, Carter himself was not “black” enough for many campus activists. The leaders of the Black Student Union, among others, denounced the choice as evidence of a right-wing conspiracy of students and administrators seeking to rid the campus of minority students.36

  On numerous occasions, copies of the Stanford Review, a conservative and libertarian student newspaper critical of multiculturalism, were destroyed en masse. Mass removals from regular campus distribution sites occurred, for instance, after news articles on Stanford's controversial “domestic partners” policy and the MEChA hunger strike. The newspaper destroyers ironically compared the editors of the Review to “Nazis.”37 On every occasion, the University's Judicial Affairs Office refused to investigate the breech of freedom of the press.

  Stanford's Memorial Church has supported the expulsion of Bible studies from private dorm rooms. Byron Bland, a “minister” with the United Campus Christian Ministry (which runs Stanford's Memorial Church) called traditional Bible study groups “narrow” and urged them to study a broader “range of expression,” including “the experiences and theologies of, for example, Latin Americans and feminists.”38

  In the late 1980s, the Ronald Reagan Presidential Library Foundation wanted to site the Reagan Library at Stanford. A unique academic resource, the library would contain the papers of the Reagan presidency and further enhance the prestige of Stanford University. Nevertheless, students and faculty circulated petitions denouncing the proposal.39 Others worried about its possible siting on an “ecologically sensitive” hill overlooking the campus. Within several months, the Foundation got the message and withdrew its proposal. English professor Ronald Rebholz was overjoyed: The decision to withdraw was “astonishing, surprising and wonderful. It's one of the few political victories I've had in my life.”40

  Stanford's ROTC program was driven out by protests in the early 1970s and has never returned. The only thing that has changed in the intervening years is the preferred excuse: In the 1970s, opposition to the military was couched in terms of disagreement over the Vietnam War, whereas in the 1990s the attack is justified because of the military's “discrimination” against homosexuals and women. In practice, the only people who are directly hurt by this ideologically driven attack are the Stanford students on ROTC scholarships, who must make a one-hour commute to take the requisite classes at UC Berkeley's campus.

  Stanford Law School's Career Service Office (CSO) has taken the further measure of banning military recruiters from interviewing law students on campus. The “public interest,” according to the CSO, does not include the U.S. military, but does encompass more “progressive” organizations like the Nicaraguan Marxist Women's Defense Fund.41 Even the ban was not enough to satisfy law school dean Paul Brest. When a U.S. Marine Corps recruiter placed flyers in student mailboxes informing students of off-campus recruiting, Brest felt compelled to respond with a memo of his own, which he distributed to all students at the law school:

  Dear Friends,

  An unknown person has placed recruiting flyers for the U.S. Marine Corps Judge Advocate Program in many students’ mailboxes. You should be aware that the Judge Advocate Program is not permitted to use the Law School's Career Services Office's facilities and services because it is not in compliance with the School's Non-Discrimination Policy with respect to sexual orientation.42

  On its face, Brest's memo was simply gratuitous: Student mailboxes are not “facilities and services” of the CSO, and even an (ominous-sounding) “unknown person” may use them. Because the Marine Corps flyer could not be stopped in the first place, Brest tried to do the next best thing—denouncing and symbolically purging the military from Stanford Law School.

  Just before Education Secretary William Bennett's Stanford address in April 1988, Provost Jim Rosse encouraged radical student leaders to boo and hiss during Bennett's speech, so as to discredit Bennett's claims.43 When Bennett instead received a standing ovation, President Kennedy shifted opprobrium onto Stanford's College Republicans, whom he accused of orchestrating a show of support.44 For Stanford's multiculturalists, there is always someone to blame.

  “Militant Action”

  The targets of multiculturalism need not be outspokenly conservative, like the College Republicans or the Stanford Review, and they need not even have loosely conservative (or pro-American) connotations, like the Reagan Library or U.S. military. Although these targets are in some respects the easiest ones, it would be a major mistake to think that these ritual denunciations are in any way limited by ideology.

  In the absence of obvious or compelling targets, others that are less obvious will be found. The multiculture's demand for oppressors will be met. Along these lines, it is worth stressing that the initial degree of differentiation from the prevailing orthodoxy can be very small indeed. So long as there is that initial difference, even if only in the minds of some of the observers, the violence that drives multicultural ressenti
ment can do the rest, transforming the mildest nonconformist into an enemy of the multicultural state.

  The multicultural targets often have no idea what hit them: A bad joke, a slightly inappropriate comment, or the wrong turn of phrase can all generate a massive surge (and focusing) of multicultural anger. It is difficult to predict who the next targets will be. And although most individuals are careful not to give offense, not everybody will behave with perfect diligence all of the time. It only takes a spark to set off the multicultural explosions.

  In the spring of 1992, shortly after the first verdicts were returned in the Rodney King trials, Stanford's multiculturalists were even more angry than usual. Everybody agreed that Rodney King had been a victim, and so it was time to look for a victimizer. The most obvious people responsible, the three police officers charged with the beating, were in Los Angeles. That was too far away; a more proximate cause was needed and soon found.

  On May 1, 1992, classes at Stanford Law School were cancelled so that students and faculty could participate in demonstrations. Speaker after speaker denounced the entire society that had ever allowed such a verdict. One speaker exhorted the crowd, “If it doesn't look bad to you, you aren't looking good.”45 About 1,000 protestors marched into downtown Palo Alto, a well-to-do suburban community near Stanford, protesting behind a banner that declared “Wake up, the revolution has begun again.”46 In several cities, notably Los Angeles and San Francisco, there had been violent riots, and nobody in Palo Alto quite knew what to expect. Several stores had closed for the day, and one, Copeland's (a sporting goods store), had taken the additional precaution of boarding its windows.47

  This very precaution became the natural target of the demonstrators’ anger. Multicultural Educator Greg Ricks declared that Copeland's boarding was “a huge insult” to “Stanford students on a peaceful march.” Ricks added that Stanford students “are the most educated people in the country. We're not rioters, we're scholars.”48 He called for a boycott of Copeland's, paradoxically using rhetoric that evoked the images of a violent riot: “We're going to go down to University Avenue, the heart of this city…. We're going to show some radical economic policy that's bigger than 20,000 fires. This is militant action. This is a serious thing.”49 Junior Terry Clay contradictorily declared, “We are taking things over in a peaceful and forceful manner.”50 All of the talk about a “forceful” takeover and “militant action” indicates that the line between a peaceful protest and violence was extremely thin. Even though there happened to be no riot in Palo Alto that day, the fears of anxious store owners were not unwarranted.

  The boycott of an upscale sporting goods store in suburban Palo Alto would seem to be far removed from events in Los Angeles, from breaking the cycle of poverty in America's inner cities, or even from dealing with the problem of police violence. For the demonstrators, though, the day's events had been a tremendous success. The multicultural community had been galvanized and united, and the experience of collective anger had been wonderfully cathartic. At the end of the day, BSU leader Bacardi Jackson exulted, “We've all done a lot of work, and I'm really impressed by the way Stanford has mobilized. Take a look around. Let's say ‘Thank God.’ Thank somebody.”51 Ricks concluded that the response to the King verdict had been a “multicultural event,” and for once he was right.52

  Even Copeland's may not have been the most preposterous of the multiculturalists’ targets. That prize may go to Jan Kerkhoven, a self-described “humanist” and third-year doctoral candidate in the School of Education. According to his advisor, feminist studies professor Nel Noddings, Jan (pronounced “Yan”) was “so interested in feminist studies that he [had] participated in a reading group.”53 Even such public displays of ideological commitment did not guarantee immunity from multicultural attacks, however.

  In Spring 1991, Jan attempted to take “Feminist Methodology in the Social Sciences.”54 He was the sole male to enroll in the class. Jan told the class that he accepted the magnitude and pervasiveness of male dominance and oppression of women, but said he could not view the issue as pertaining only to women. Jan explained that he could not “see the oppression of women outside the larger context of the dehumanization of society.” In a paper for the class, Jan elaborated:

  As a man I see no way to do women centered research, without implicitly conveying the message that serves to endorse the abominable system of gender in place. Women centered research by a man will further the partial truth that men have to give up their privilege and dominance as if these represent an absolute advantage of men over women.55

  It is difficult to imagine greater devotion to the feminist cause. Yet Professor Susan Krieger responded to the paper by throwing Jan out of the class. According to Professor Krieger, Jan “didn't have the right commitment to a gendered outlook…[and might] divert the class discussion in an undesirable direction.”56 Some students found Jan's ideas “disturbing,” and Professor Krieger concluded that Jan did not have the “right preparation.” She suggested that he enroll in an introductory feminist class.57

  The fact that Jan's comments were “disturbing” did not cause the seminar's participants to question their own assumptions. A much easier recourse was at hand: They could get rid of the “disturbing” person instead. For only minor deviations, Jan became a hapless target of multicultural ressentiment. Unaware of his crime or of what was really happening, Jan was simply flabbergasted: “It is shocking for me to be bumped off the one course that fully addresses the issues that I am struggling with.”58

  Jan's case is not unique or even unusual, but it does indicate that no objective parameters delineate the set of multicultural enemies. In a particular context, a former ally might become a new enemy, if for no other reason than that no other enemies are readily available. Jan may have had an illustrious career of following the party line and participating in his own multicultural denunciations, but he was unfortunately now stuck in a situation where others were hewing to the party line even more closely. It was therefore his turn to be denounced.

  The fact that even Jan Kerkhoven became a target suggests that nobody is ever completely beyond reach. Joining the multicultural mob does not guarantee that one will be safe. And as we will see next, neither does membership in a preferred minority group.

  Enemies Within

  Even though some of Stanford's multiculturalists perceive all white males to be symbolic representatives of the West (and therefore a part of the enemy), it would be a mistake to think that these expulsions and witch-hunts are limited by race or gender.59 If anything, the nonconforming members of preferred victim groups (for example, pro-life women, conservative blacks, or even Professor Stephen Carter) often receive even worse treatment than nonconforming white males. To many multiculturalists, it is a distinction between enemies and traitors.

  Enemies, like white males and other superordinate peoples, just “do not understand” the oppression of the subordinated. Within the multicultural framework, it is expected that a white male will say something inappropriate every now and then; white males “just don't get it” (and are not really expected to, at least not on their own). On balance, their contretemps probably reassure multiculturalists, reminding them that there will always be ignorant people for them to reeducate and oppressors for them to despise. Traitors, on the other hand, like conservative blacks or pro-life women, cannot simply be dismissed as ignorant, since multiculturalists claim that these categories of people possess special knowledge. Because the very existence of such traitors threatens the foundations of the multicultural state, they must be dealt with in an especially harsh way. If they cannot be gotten rid of entirely, they must be muzzled at the very least.

  Thus, for several years in the late 1980s, the Black Student Union kept a “blacklist” of black Stanford students who were insufficiently “Black”—that is, students who did not subscribe to the radical positions multiculturalism claims that all blacks must hold. One Stanford Daily columnist described how the “blacklist” w
orked:

  One thing that I won't forget is the “blacklist” that circulated around campus my freshman year, and that still exists today. It was a “list” of black students who were judged (by whom I don't know) to be oreos, pseudo, whitewashed. Apparently, those on the list didn't fit the mold of a typical black person, whatever that is. My friend was one of the students who was included on this list. Ironically, my friend is one of the “blackest” persons I know, in the sense that she is very proud of her African heritage, and she and her family reflect a strong African culture. More than that, my friend is also proud of her American culture. She's not down with baseball, apple pie and all that, but she has embraced her American culture, including its aesthetic, language and intellectual tradition. And for this, I suspect, she made the blacklist.60

  Those on the “blacklist” were shunned by politically active black students and informally ostracized from Stanford's black community—an especially invidious punishment at a place like Stanford. Outside the multicultural state, such a list, though reprehensible, would not be psychologically devastating. Given a choice, after all, most of the students on such a list would not want to be friends with the people who put them there—and would instead choose their friends from among the rest of the student body. Under the multicultural regime, however, this is far more difficult to do. The multicultural axioms regarding intragroup unity and intergroup difference encourage friendships along racial lines. If one is black, it likely will be more difficult to form friendships with students of other races. The one place where such a list is necessary to maintain the prevailing regime is also the only place where something like the BSU's “blacklist” can really hurt people. Their mistreatment was not just a punishment, but a threat of what would happen to other “people of color” who stepped out of line—even just a little bit.61