You can't have a university without having free speech, even

Hear, O lovers of wisdom and guardians of truth, the words of Donna Shalala, who declared: “You can’t have a university without having free speech, even though at times it makes us terribly uncomfortable. If students are not going to hear controversial ideas on college campuses, they’re not going to hear them in America. I believe it’s part of their education.” In these words rings an ancient warning: that the pursuit of knowledge cannot flourish without freedom of thought, and that comfort is the enemy of true learning. For the university is not a sanctuary of ease, but a forge where the mind is tested by fire.

The meaning of this saying is sharp and enduring. A university without free speech becomes a prison of conformity, where ideas are trimmed to please the powerful and curiosity is suffocated. Yet free speech is not always gentle; it disturbs, it provokes, it challenges the foundations upon which we stand. But it is precisely in this discomfort that the soul grows. To encounter controversial ideas is to wrestle with truth, to measure one’s convictions, and to learn not only what one believes, but why. Without this struggle, education is hollow, and society drifts toward silence.

History bears witness to this truth. In the days of Socrates, the Athenians condemned him for daring to question their traditions and expose their ignorance. His teaching was uncomfortable; his questions pierced pride and shattered illusions. Yet though they silenced his voice with poison, his ideas lived on, forming the foundation of Western philosophy. His story shows us what Shalala declares: without the courage to allow controversial ideas, a people condemns itself to stagnation.

Consider too the tale of Frederick Douglass, once enslaved, who fought for the right to speak against the institution of slavery. His words were called dangerous, his speeches were banned, yet he proclaimed boldly: “To suppress free speech is a double wrong. It violates the rights of the hearer as well as those of the speaker.” His defiance awakened consciences and moved a nation closer to justice. Here again we see that the most transformative education comes from hearing words that disturb, that unsettle, that force us to confront the truths we would rather ignore.

The origin of Shalala’s declaration lies in her years as a leader of universities, where she witnessed firsthand the tension between comfort and freedom. She knew that students do not come to college merely to be affirmed, but to be tested. To protect them from hard questions is not kindness, but cruelty, for it leaves them unprepared to face the world beyond. If they do not hear diverse, even offensive voices in the halls of learning, they will not know how to answer them when they meet them in the wider America. Thus she insists: the clash of ideas is itself part of their education.

The lesson, O listener, is bright as a torch: do not flee from discomfort, for it is the teacher of wisdom. Seek out voices unlike your own, and measure their strength against your convictions. Defend the right of others to speak, even when their words pierce you, for in defending them you defend your own freedom. Remember always that truth is not brittle, but like iron—it grows stronger when struck by the hammer of opposition.

Practical action lies before you: if you are a student, welcome the challenge of controversial ideas, and let them sharpen your mind. If you are a teacher, foster spaces where honest debate can flourish. If you are a citizen, guard free speech as the lifeblood of democracy, even when it troubles you. For silence may feel safe, but it is the safety of chains, not the safety of freedom.

Thus remember the wisdom of Donna Shalala: a university without free speech is no true university, and an education without controversy is no true education. Let us then be brave, to hear and to speak, to debate and to defend. For in this struggle lies the soul of learning, and in its preservation lies the hope of a free people.