ROBERT BIRGENEAU'S LEGACY AT U OF T
Martin Loney
This
week, the University of California, Berkeley named Robert
Birgeneau as its new chancellor. The 62-year-old Canadian-born
physicist is no doubt thrilled by the honour -- not to mention the
US$390,000 salary that goes with it.
As for Berkeley, I hope it
knows what it's gotten itself into.
When
Birgeneau became University of Toronto president
four years ago, he promised to "transform" the institution. His
previous job had been Dean of Science at the Massachusetts Institute of
Technology, where he'd faced discrimination claims by a handful of
vocal female science professors. In response to the controversy,
Birgeneau appointed chief complainant Nancy Hopkins to investigate --
with predictable results. Birgeneau's
solution included hefty pay hikes, larger offices and more research
funds for Hopkins and her fellow complainants.
Overnight,
he became the darling of North America's radical
feminists. Before he took office at U of
T, Birgeneau announced that "diversity" would be the centrepiece of his
presidency, though women and visible minorities were already well
represented at all levels at his new home. Soon after his arrival,
Birgeneau announced a settlement of a long-running dispute with
physicist Kin-Yip Chun, who alleged his failure to secure a faculty
position stemmed from racism. Successive investigations failed to turn
up any convincing evidence beyond the predictable conclusion from the
Ontario Human Rights Commission that the phantasm of "systemic
discrimination" was somehow implicated. Along with a faculty
position Chun received $100,000 in compensation and $250,000 to cover
legal expenses.
A year
after his U of T appointment, Birgeneau made a major speech warning
department heads that "one of the critical criteria" in the assessment
of their success would be their recruitment of a "diverse faculty." In
2002, Birgeneau recruited a new senior academic officer.
Provost Shirley Neuman, a long-time feminist activist, had been a founder of the Women's Studies
program
at the University of Alberta and former
chair of the university's English department, a department that came to
be seen as increasingly inhospitable to male faculty.
Neuman,
who resigned earlier this year, shared with Birgeneau a commitment to
diversity, though like Birgeneau, the diversity in question is not
intellectual but biological. Their ethos is eloquently captured in the
university's faculty recruitment materials; applicants are advised that
U of T "especially welcomes applications from visible minority group
members, women, Aboriginal persons, persons with disabilities, members
of sexual minority groups, and others who may contribute to further
diversification of ideas." The idea that biological diversity is the
key to ideological diversity -- absurd on its face -- is simply assumed.
Such
"biopolitics" is central to the development of new study areas at U of
T, which now proudly boasts programs in Equity Studies, Women's Gender
Studies, Women's Studies and Gender Studies (a different program),
Sexual Diversity Studies and so on. Central to the selection of
teaching staff is not only a deafening similarity of perspective (not
least the belief in a pandemic of racism and sexism) but also the
requisite biological claim to expertise.
Last
month the university added to its minor in sexual diversity studies a
major in the same subject. The director of the new sexual diversity
centre is a prominent gay rights activist; the undergraduate program
director is a lesbian. Those looking for scholarly detachment may be
surprised to read the logo on the program Web site: "great minds for a
queer future."
Criticism
of such course offerings at U of T is muted: Diversity does not extend
to tolerating dissent from the new biopolitical orthodoxy. President
Birgeneau made this clear before taking office, advising those who
failed to share his enthusiasms to seek work elsewhere.
More
recently, provost Neuman called criticism of the new programs evidence
of "systemic discrimination." In the present climate, only the most
reckless scholar would risk a charge of that nature.
Perhaps
the focus on biological diversity at U of T might be justified if it
served to redress years of neglect and exclusion -- as supporters
claim. But in fact, visible minorities are highly successful in
Canadian education. They represent 13% of the Canadian population but a
majority of U of T students. Women are 40% more likely to be admitted
to the university's undergraduate program than men, and about 35% more
likely to be admitted at the graduate level. In many departments, women
are twice or three times as likely to be appointed as male applicants.
More than 30% of new U of T faculty appointments are visible minorities.
As he
heads to Berkeley, Birgeneau
is emphasizing what he calls "equity and inclusion." But his record at
U of T and MIT suggests his goal conflicts with the more traditional
academic principles of merit and detached scholarship. Given his track
record, we can only guess what social engineering plans he has for his
new university. But we can at least be thankful that the fallout will
be California's problem,
not ours.
Martin
Loney is the author of The Pursuit of Division: Race, Gender and
Preferential Hiring in Canada,
McGill-Queen's.
National Post,
Thursday,
July 29, 2004.
Newsletter, September 2004-Text