C. Wallace DeWitt ’03 delivers a Swiftian analysis of the recent epidemic of Political Correctness at Yale.
Next year marks the 350th anniversary of the birth of Jonathan Swift. I was delighted, therefore, to see that our alma mater has embarked on a yearlong celebration of the great Anglo-Irish wit and author of â€œGulliverâ€™s Travels,â€ â€œA Tale of a Tubâ€ and other classic works of the satirical genre. Yale has come in for a lot of harsh and unforgiving press these past few years, and unjustly so in my considered view. It is therefore very meet, right and our bounden duty to offer Yale our thanks when due.
Yaleâ€™s wry sense of humor has been in rare form lately. Reminiscent of Swiftâ€™s famous suggestion that Irish poverty could be alleviated by selling Irish babies for consumption by the rich, Yale has not shied away from vigorously lampooning the politically correct contretemps that have plagued lesser universities. (Iâ€™m looking at you, Harvard Law!)
Thus, we now have the delightfully styled â€œCommittee to Establish Principles on Renamingâ€ and â€œCommittee on Art in Public Spaces,â€ names so patently outlandish as to make the Ministry of Truth blush. Hilarious! George Orwell is surely looking down on us with a chuckle from that great Catalonia in the sky.
And then thereâ€™s the whole â€œHeads of Residential Collegeâ€ bit, a subtle dig at fanatics who suggest that Yalies arenâ€™t capable of distinguishing between (i) an abominable relic of antebellum oppression and (ii) an utterly inoffensive term in continuous academic use since the Middle Ages. Ha! Youâ€™re killing me, Yale, stop it already!
Some practical jokers in the English major have even gotten in on the act. Like latter-day Voltaires, they proclaim that the â€œMajor,â€ the â€œEnglishâ€ and the â€œPoetsâ€ must henceforth be stricken from a course sequence entitled â€œMajor English Poets.â€ Priceless! Just imagine the look on those incoming majorsâ€™ faces when they get a load of the syllabus for the new â€œMinor Non-English Prosaistsâ€ requirement. Have fun with your Bourdieu and Schlegel, kids!
Iâ€™m afraid, however, that Yaleâ€™s waggish humor has been lost on some of our more earnest undergraduates, who perhaps have drunk too deeply the vintages of New Havenâ€™s Congregationalist city fathers. The rampant sardonicism on campus seems to have gone over the heads of these students (and even the odd faculty member or administrator). They are still more juvenile than Juvenalian, you might say. But hey, no judgment here, thatâ€™s all part of the process of education. No doubt even Leo Strauss didnâ€™t suss out all the esoteric subtexts of Plato and Machiavelli on his first try. No one ever said that persecution and the art of writing came easy, what what?
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