Though we enjoy the label and all of its benefits, the state of intellectualism at Dartmouth is endangered.
Why? One necessary element of true intellectualism - self-criticism - is often overlooked.
This, the drive of any honest search for knowledge, is lacking, and we pay for it dearly in our daily lives and in our souls.
Self-criticism is the art of taking it upon oneself to honestly question one's own long held assumptions. Why do you cling to them? This is not to say that you should listen carefully to every loony assertion, or undertake a serious discussion of whether the sky is blue. Intellectuals are also guided by reason.
Numerous "beliefs" and "opinions" exist that are unfounded yet strongly held, ranging from the utterly ridiculous to the mildly unreasonable, all unacceptable. A few examples are the notions that whites are devils or that the United States is a Christian country. They are backed up by that most potent antidote to self-criticism, the everlasting "It's my opinion."
The reasons these ideas are clung to with the grip of a drowning man to a life preserver mostly have to do with identity. The white devil idea serves to "other-ize" a significant portion of the American population for blacks. This has dignifying effects, for if whites are devils, what are we? Simple.
The idea that America was founded upon Christian principles serves two purposes.
For secular, church-and-state-type activists, this idea fuels their mission of separation. In fact the joy of the fight is heightened by the resistance. They can now view themselves as the embattled saviors of modern America. Martyrs for the sake of a bigotry-free America, because we shall be free at last.
For Christians, this idea allows the melding of religious and patriotic passions, bolstering their own identity with the force of history.
The activists become martyrs, come to free us from the dogma of the law, while the Christians become messiahs, persecuted brutally by the legalistic Pharisees for the sins of the nation.
The justification is the most problematic - it is a stumbling block not only to intellectual discourse, but to human growth and dignity. As we run from the truth, the questioner is put aside with an indignant plea to respect the individual sovereignty of the questioned: "It's my opinion."
This simple phrase allows us to passively accept our rash irrationalities, rude irresponsibilities and precious perversions. After all, they are "our opinions." By uttering these words, we shirk responsibility for our own growth and dismiss and pre-empt the questions that must come to every thinking person. This is true not only of ideas, but of morals as well. This is true with any element of human character that can be questioned.
One might ask, "Why question myself? I know who I am, and I know what I believe." This may very well be true, but we only grow and strengthen our identities by testing them. If your identity is truly strong, then a question, like a rock thrown against the wall of a castle, will not hurt - in fact, it will buttress the structure.
I challenge the members of our community to act as true intellectuals by examining the source of our dissent when we dissent, our reaction when we react, and our assertion when we assert.
It is not so important what you find yourself to be, only that you search for it and find it. You can be a solidly conservative, heterosexual white male - the butt of most of today's jokes and the "other/they" of most of today's "intellectual" discussions - who voted down Martin Luther King, Jr. Day in Arizona and joined Alpha Delta fraternity - all that matters is that you know why.
The true answer will be marked by confidence, a willingness to be questioned and a true open-mindedness; not the passive acceptance of nonsense that now passes for an open mind. Your new reaction to questions about yourself will not be "It's my opinion."
The true answer will reflect an intellectualism that is worthy of admiration. To be intellectuals, we must search to uncover not only the secrets of the world, but the secrets of ourselves.
