But little of this support is provided for constitutionally, so if we are to attain a more egalitarian exchange of ideas, it will likely be through the political rather than the judicial branches. And any such political reform begins with the right to exercise traditional civil liberties. In the Trump era, the liberal version of civil liberties, emphasizing the importance of keeping government out of the speech regulation business, is likely to be more essential than ever.
First Amendment rights to speech have never been more highly protected, but the free flow of news to the public is far more tenuous, and rests on more fragile foundations. Americans have a well-entrenched right to free expression, but no right to the news.
Still, the alternative to private control of speech and the media is state control. And there is nothing like a Trump presidency to throw into sharp relief the dangers that such a system would pose. Would anyone want Steve Bannon deciding how to correct deficiencies in the marketplace of ideas? Trump has already shown a strong antipathy to press accounts that reflect negatively on his actions, or even that report accurately on the underwhelming crowd at his inauguration. The classical liberal conceptions of free speech and free press may not be enough to produce a fully informed electorate or to redress the social and economic ills that skew public debate. But as a constitutional matter, they remain the single best defense against an overweening state. More than ever, those are the rights and liberties that will now need our support.
The future of the First Amendment may be at issue. A 2015 Pew Research Center poll reported that 40 percent of millennials think the government should be able to suppress speech deemed offensive to minority groups, as compared to only 12 percent of those born between 1928 and 1945. Young people today voice far less faith in free speech than do their grandparents. And Europe, where racist speech is not protected, has shown that democracies can reasonably differ about this issue.
And even if we could somehow answer that question, how would we define what speech to suppress? Should the government be able to silence all arguments against affirmative action or about genetic differences between men and women, or just uneducated racist and sexist rants? It is easy to recognize inequality; it is virtually impossible to articulate a standard for suppression of speech that would not afford government officials dangerously broad discretion and invite discrimination against particular viewpoints.
In some limited but important settings, equality norms do trump free speech. At schools and in the workplace, for example, antidiscrimination law forbids harassment and hostile working conditions based on race or sex, and those rules limit what people can say there. The courts have recognized that in situations involving formal hierarchy and captive audiences, speech can be limited to ensure equal access and treatment. But those exceptions do not extend to the public sphere, where ideas must be open to full and free contestation, and those who disagree can turn away or talk back.
These are real costs, and deserve consideration as ACLU lawyers make case-by-case decisions about how to deploy our resources. But they cannot be a bar to doing such work. The truth is that both internally and externally, it would be much easier for the ACLU to represent only those with whom we agree. But the power of our First Amendment advocacy turns on our commitment to a principle of viewpoint neutrality that requires protection for proponents and opponents of our own best view of racial justice. If we defended speech only when we agreed with it, on what ground would we ask others to tolerate speech they oppose?
In a fundamental sense, the First Amendment safeguards not only the American experiment in democratic pluralism, but everything the ACLU does. In the pursuit of liberty and justice, we associate, advocate, and petition the government. We protect the First Amendment not only because it is the lifeblood of democracy and an indispensable element of freedom, but because it is the guarantor of civil society itself. It protects the press, the academy, religion, political parties, and nonprofit associations like ours. In the era of Donald Trump, the importance of preserving these avenues for advancing justice and preserving democracy should be more evident than ever.
But it is precisely in times of heightened crisis and fear that university leaders must remain steadfast in their commitment to free speech, open debate, and peaceful dissent on campus. These principles are the bedrock of academic freedom at all universities. Moreover, the First Amendment requires public universities to protect the right of students and student groups to debate and demonstrate on campus.
The consequences for students are not hypothetical. In late October, Florida State University System Chancellor Ray Rodrigues and Gov. Ron DeSantis took action to deactivate the Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) chapters at public universities in Florida, based on nothing more than the speech of the national SJP organization.
Shapiro's message was offensive, but if academic freedom is to mean anything, [Shapiro's] two tweets can't be a firing offense. And without academic freedom, the voices suppressed are as likely to be those of critical race theorists as opponents of affirmative action.
The concept of academic freedom was initially advanced in the United States by universities and professors as a defense against political intrusions aimed at perceived anarchists, Communists, and other critics of the status quo. Universities argued that because a robust exchange of ideas and free inquiry are essential to the academic enterprise, state officials must respect the independent judgments of universities and the free speech rights of their employees. The Supreme Court's academic freedom cases have all involved government efforts to banish Communists from campus. [. . .]
The principle of academic freedom, like the freedom of speech generally, is not absolute. It does not protect those who engage in targeted racial harassment or threats, or speech that creates a pervasively hostile environment. But Shapiro's tweets do not come close to crossing those lines. And in an instance such as this, in which he immediately responded by deleting the tweets and apologizing, the commitment to academic freedom demands tolerance for those with whom we disagree. Some have raised concerns about whether students of color will feel comfortable taking Shapiro's classes. But his primary role will be running a conservative institute on campus, and as a lecturer he would not teach any compulsory courses.
As a private university, Georgetown is not bound by the First Amendment. But like virtually all institutions of higher learning, it has committed itself to respecting the free exchange of ideas. Its policy protects even speech that "most members of the University community [consider] offensive, unwise, immoral, or ill conceived." That so many faculty, students, and student organizations have demanded Shapiro's ouster will make Georgetown's adherence to its own standards extraordinarily difficult.
Freedom of worship is one of the basic doctrines of the gospel. Indeed, in one manner of speaking it is the most basic of all doctrines, even taking precedence over the nature and kind of being that God is, or the atoning sacrifice of the Son of God, or the vesting of priesthood and keys and saving power in the one true church. By this we mean that if there were no freedom of worship, there would be no God, no redemption, and no salvation in the kingdom of God.3
Part of the paradox is explained by the fact, attested by all the modern prophets, that the gospel embraces all truth.8 But more is involved in the doctrine of religious freedom than an admonition to accept truth wherever we find it.9 It is a recognition of the realities of human dignity and conscience and of the obligation to respect agency at the precious core of the human spirit. This doctrine has had great practical meaning for our leaders.10 Just a year before his martyrdom, Joseph Smith declared:
Forgetting the paradox of religious freedom has been a cause of incalculable suffering during human history. Too often, groups who have pleaded for tolerance while they were a persecuted minority have turned into persecutors as soon as they acquired political power. Joseph Smith was very conscious of this tragic tendency toward unrighteous dominion and repudiated it.12 We as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints should not be guilty of insensitivity in this area. Having so often suffered from religious intolerance in the past, we should go the extra mile in assuring that others are not exposed to similar pain.13 What those who forget this paradox do not understand is that the mere possession of truth does not carry with it a right to impose that truth on others. God possesses all truth, yet He has left us our freedom.
Let me now give you a graphic sense for the implications that global religious freedom has for the growth of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Look first at a map of the globe that attempts to plot the status of religious freedom around the world. [A map was shown to the audience.] The information in this map is based primarily on the latest annual report on religious freedom provided by the U.S. State Department.25 The countries shown in gray are countries that have either no constitutional protection of religious freedom or that do not respect this ideal in practice. Some states protect religious freedom to some extent but have significant qualifications that make it difficult to found a new religious community in the country. Restrictions on proselyting are particularly problematic. As the map shows, most of the world now has normal-to-strong protection of religious freedom. No country has a perfect record, but the situation is markedly better than it was even 10 years ago.
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