Free Inquiry and Authoritarianism
As we begin a new semester, eager to immerse ourselves in the life of the mind, let us start by acknowledging the world as it is today.
We live today in an authoritarian country, run by an overtly fascist government. The United States is not (yet) totalitarian; authoritarianism is far from consolidated. But a state that commands an unaccountable domestic police force, weaponizes the legal system against opponents, and wields patently unlawful military power abroad is not a democracy committed to the rule of law.
What does it mean to teach, learn, and research, to think at a university, under these conditions? To uphold our dedication to truth, we must do three related things: understand what is happening; speak about it plainly; and remain in honest dialogue with ourselves.
Many writers with experience living in autocratic regimes — M. Gessen, for instance — offer specific advice for surviving and resisting political oppression. However, I am concerned with a more specific question for a university committed to veritas: how, in a world of increasing unfreedom, can we inquire freely?
Our first order of business is to learn what is really occurring, both in the world at large and in our communities. Today, figuring out what is true is harder than ever. A little suspicion of official sources has always been healthy, but we have ample evidence that our current Republican-led government lies unflinchingly. Sadly, our media environment — from compliant legacy media such as newspapers and broadcast news to the algorithms of TikTok and YouTube — often spreads, rather than resists, falsehood.
What can we do in response? Find trustworthy people and information outlets. Wait for facts before drawing conclusions. Scrutinize the framing, language, sources, and motives behind everything we hear. We must process and interpret information ourselves, and help those around us do the same.
Having acknowledged reality, we must then speak clearly about what we see. Obfuscation and uncertainty are powerful authoritarian tools. We cannot allow barbarism to clothe itself in civility. Video evidence of Renee Good’s – an American citizen’s — murder is not, as the New York Times put it, a “political Rorschach test.” The manifest horror of apparently extrajudicial murders on the high seas must not be veiled behind debates about the legal niceties of presidential authority.
Violence is bad. Racism is wrong. Unchecked government authority is tyranny. We must not let nuance annihilate truth.
Encountering such unequivocal moral language might discomfit us. Shouldn’t we question absolutes? Aren’t we encouraged to seek “viewpoint diversity?”
Yes, we can and must listen to others, but we must always remain true to ourselves. Sometimes, we cannot do both at once. Thus, Karl Popper famously articulated the “paradox of tolerance:” an open society must tolerate all viewpoints, except intolerance.
An education grounded in free inquiry cannot permit illiberals to manipulate our commitment to reason and debate, deforming our openness into a license for sophistry, malice, and cruelty. There is nothing intellectually vital about lying or acting in bad faith.
Yes, we need to maintain open minds. We must remain skeptical of everything — particularly of our own certainty. We must constantly question ourselves: What are our assumptions? What is our evidence, and how do our interpretations inform our conclusions?
And we must try to understand each other’s minds: What would we assume, what evidence would we prioritize, how would we construe that evidence to bring us to a different determination? This kind of truth-seeking, this questioning, is essential.
The ability to question is itself at stake in the battle against right-wing authoritarianism. Fascists do not ask questions sincerely. They respond to skepticism with acts of dominance such as gaslighting and violence. As educators and students, we maintain our commitment to truth, and our integrity, by constant questioning and by rejecting answers that foreclose free inquiry. That is the role of a modern university such as Harvard.
And yet, radical openness to other views does not mean that we cannot reach conclusions. To the contrary: a commitment to ceaseless dialogue with oneself, to examining one’s own life truthfully, is the foundation of judgment.
Why? Because, in the end, you are your own ultimate interlocutor. As Hannah Arendt wrote, we “know only one thing for certain: that whatever else happens, as long as we live we shall have to live together with ourselves.” If you become untrustworthy or dishonorable, you must either lie to yourself, or abandon the conversation with yourself entirely — that is, you must stop thinking.
By thinking with and for ourselves amidst the topsy-turvy morality of fascism, we keep hold of truth and decency. This grounding is particularly important at a university, with our radical openness. Honest dialogue with ourselves ensures the integrity of our judgment, even during a widespread ethical catastrophe.
The plain truth is that we live in an authoritarian country. Every day we have a responsibility to repudiate authoritarianism by remaining in honest dialogue with ourselves. By sustaining that internal dialogue, and by continuing it with each other, we sustain the promise of liberal democracy even at its most vulnerable moments.
Accepting our responsibilities, to ourselves and to each other, is the beginning of freedom.
Derek Miller is a professor of English and the chair of the Standing Committee on Theater, Dance, and Media at Harvard.
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