At this time in
the academic year, as my energy wanes and I become more encumbered by
bureaucratic responsibilities, I find myself reflecting about the social
utility of professors. As a political science professor, such reflections always
draw me back to Max Weber’s speech “Politics
as a Vocation” in which he sought to define the calling for leadership in
its most genuine sense. Since my first readingas a graduate student, it had
the effect of convincing me that a life of teaching and studying politics
offered the best possibility for combining my passion for justice with
aspirations for social change. In this vocation, I neither see myself as a
detached humanist standing outside the struggle for power or as a politician
(in the ordinary sense) in pursuit of worthy causes. In the “real” world of
politics, I imagined that when faced with ethical dilemmas of ends versus
means, I would be forced down a path of moderation, but as an academic I hoped
to have both the freedom and autonomy to struggle with inevitable conflicts
between ideals and action.
Examples of
distinguished activist-intellectuals come to mind, including Noam Chomsky,
Cornell West and the late Edward Said. These activist-intellectuals provide
courageous examples of how to bring together activism and a scholarly voice.
Their writings show how their commitments to political struggle inform their
vision and fuel original thinking. As public intellectuals, academics find a platform
to articulate uncommon themes and resist the deadly impulse toward conformity
driving most academic scholarship. These voices gain an almost charismatic
authority in the academy and beyond.
We may imbue some scholars with charismatic authority precisely because we fear that contemporary intellectuals have become bureaucrats within university systems who produce esoteric knowledge, work in self-imposed isolation and are unwilling to risk their potential or current jobs for matters of principle. It is precisely this fear and negative characterization of the professoriate that prevents us from seeing the potential for politics as a vocation in our colleges and universities. This potential lies in Weber’s hope for a cadre of sober figures “who must arm themselves with that steadfastness of heart which can brave even the crumbling of all hopes.”
As teachers and scholars we are well poised to
take on this challenge of working against the odds. We possess both the skills
and mature perspective necessary for this endeavor. I was
taken by the example
of MIT physicist Alan Lightman’s project to build a dorm for University women
in Cambodia (Boston
Globe, Nov. 19, 2007). His choice to take on this project was driven by a
desire to make a difference and a keen sense of how this particular community
of women will benefit from access to a university education. I find it
particularly interesting that he is well suited to the daily task of running a
dormitory on the other side of the planet. I am similarly intrigued by the
efforts of professors to use their unique knowledge and skills to aid the
process of rebuilding gulf coast communities after Hurricane Katrina and
organizing rebuilding efforts. In these terms, politics is both figuratively
and literally a “strong and slow boring of boards.”
As a cadre of
professionals, academics are “neither leaders nor heroes” but uniquely
prepared, skilled, and seasoned for the task of addressing issues of poverty,
violence, and environmental degradation on a daily basis. We are not easily
disillusioned and possess a clear sense of the enormity and complexity of these
issues. On a purely practical level, our organization talents, writing and
speaking proficiencies, and theoretical mindset make us infinitely useful to
these causes. This week I hope to, and encourage our blog readers to, reflect
upon how well positioned we are as scholar educators to advance the true
calling for politics.
Kristin Bumiller