I am currently the Chair of the Department of Philosophy at the University of Utah. I have taught at “U” for 32 years. We are a flagship store, but not an elite university. We recognize 89% of applicants. Our students range from unready to very capable ones. For the most part, I love my work and devote myself to it. I have always been honored to be in this faculty to help all academically ready students acquire skills in reading, writing, speaking and reasoning, thereby enhancing their lives and preparing them for almost any job. But lately, my pride has evaporated, replaced by feelings of sadness and shame.
This year, I was the chair first–had seen profound turmoil. In January 2024, shortly before my term began, the state legislature passed an anti-fraud bill that prohibits offices and programs related to diversity, equity or inclusion. Ask administrators to clear these three words from university websites and other documents, such as RPT (Retention, Promotion, and Permission Review), Guidelines, the university administration interprets the law as requiring shutters for Women’s Resource Center, Black Cultural Center and LGBT Resource Center.
The state also implemented a “bathroom bill” that requires transgender college students to use locker rooms that are aligned with the gender assigned at birth, prohibiting them in public places (and in faculty offices if they can be seen through windows), and faculty members are now required to post lessons in publicly searched databases. It also prohibits university presidents from stance on any problematic position that does not assume the institution’s “mission, role or teaching objectives.” Finally, with the coup of academic freedom and faculty expertise, it funded and established a Citizen Excellence Center at Utah State University and required all students to attend general education courses on topics of Western civilization and the rise of Christianity. The law establishing the center will identify it as a pilot program and will be introduced to other Utah universities in the future.
Then there is the national campaign in Utah against “waste, fraud and abuse.” Recently passed laws determine the process of all post-statement reviews of teachers, cut common governance and cut state funds to all Utah public institutions by 10% ($60.5 million). If the university uses funds for high-demand, high-paying majors, it can be “redistributed”. As a result, we lost the history and philosophy of science majors, which attracted some of our best students, many of whom were dual majors in the STEM discipline and dedicated to careers in medicine and public health. It should be clear that eliminating this major will reduce student opportunities while without any savings; providing it does not require additional staff, consultants or courses, beyond the scope of our philosophy major. These funding cuts also mean that tenured teachers in my department will receive a zero-percent salary increase this year.
Apart from the state’s actions, the upper government seems to be with Facebook’s motto of “moving fast and destroying things” – many changes have been made in such a short time, so it’s hard to keep track. It suddenly transformed the advice system, bringing four universities to the protection of the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, which is a “shared service” arrangement, and continues to launch a new “Student Success Program.” Whether these changes are wise or not, their speed imposes a small amount of work (mostly Sterling) on the dean and department chair. Apart from judging some manuscripts for journal referees, I haven’t read a piece of philosophy since I became chairman, let alone writing. After this, the dean of my university, a staunch supporter of philosophy, resigned in the middle of the fall semester and replaced by someone from outside our college, essentially putting us in the succession.
When all of this happened, my youngest child was a queer and was deciding to go to college. He applied to the University of Utah, where he was awarded the Honors College and received a scholarship. But how should I send him here? I worry about his safety, no matter where he lives in our current political atmosphere of hatred, but I still don’t want to bring him into the environment of my own campus. Then, I might come across a big bill so he can attend a college outside of the state.
I have accepted this restraint more or less and also managed to work tirelessly when what happened finally set my sail apart: the University President announced that surprised the faculty and staff, which brought the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints back to the missionaries, qualifying for 12 years of credit to serve their church.
I was shocked by all these statements that my university is important. While students like my kids can’t even have a designated room on campus to hang out with like-minded others, the main symbols remind us that the presence and dignity of students like him are forbidden to return to LDS missionaries in public places, who are dedicated to spiritual support throughout the college across the campus, can put the church throughout the semester into practice, and they can be on a big thing, and their costs vary greatly. This set of priorities is so wrong that I am surging with surreality. However, the government has no irony or hypocrisy when naming its student experience “U belongs.”
Soon I will be hosting a retirement party for a wonderful colleague who joined the faculty the year before I did so. In another era, it would be hard for me to see him go, but I’m happy to continue my focus on my career. Now, I have only jealousy. It’s time for me to retire, too, but, unfortunately, this is not an option as I have four years of out-of-state tuition to pay.
