Rikleen is the executive director of Lawyers Defending American Democracy and the editor of “ Her Honor – Stories of Challenge and Triumph from Women Judges.” For 10 years, she served as a trustee at Clark University in Worcester, Massachusetts.
The resignations of two Ivy League presidents – Claudine Gay of Harvard and Elizabeth Magill of the University of Pennsylvania – demonstrate the peril facing university leaders who lean into old models that no longer work. Free speech as a revered tenet of higher education cannot demand silence in this all-hands-on-deck moment in history. Universities today have a duty to address increased manifestations of bias, growing threats to democracy and the erosion of individual rights.
Our country is under siege from behaviors and public rhetoric that would have been unfathomable a decade ago. Excessive vitriol and political lies have desensitized the nation, allowing the flourishing of a pernicious campaign to gaslight organizations into silence. In the resulting quiet, mimicry has become the sincerest form of flattery.
Too often, campuses hide behind concepts of free speech and academic freedom to condone their own silence and avoid entering the fray of modern discourse. Universities seeking to respond with a moral compass fear being dismissed as “woke,” and administrators that speak out face the wrath of political leaders and their supporters who are willing to take down every opponent who disagrees.
But the country today desperately needs the moral clarity that an institution of higher education can offer. Studied silence cannot work in these troubled times.
Universities have risen to the occasion previously, so we know they can shift in times of need. Consider the unifying moment when campus leadership rightly stood up to condemn the cold-blooded murder of George Floyd at the hands of a Minneapolis police officer, abetted by his colleagues. Universities around the country immediately condemned the systemic racial injustice and police brutality that led to Floyd’s death, and committed to change their culture and focus on ways to alleviate racism.
For example, at Furman University in South Carolina, the school conducted a racial equity audit, promised to increase Black student enrollment and Black faculty hires, and instituted a zero-tolerance policy in response to racism and discrimination. Brown University called on its campus community to “act against racism and police brutality,” and matched that call with resources, research, programs and projects to address systemic racism. Student groups, including sororities and fraternities, also expressed a commitment to anti-racist and inclusive behaviors.
In the years since, however, higher ed’s focus on anti-racist policies and practices to address the impact of historic systemic racism have faded in intensity. Instead, educators at all levels face hostility and backlash against DEI initiatives, a whitewashing of American history and attacks on a teaching methodology called “critical race theory” that became a derogatory pseudonym for any conversation about race in a classroom.
Governors and legislators have brought this fight directly to colleges and universities, using the budgeting process as a cudgel. In one of the more extreme examples, Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis successfully undertook a hostile takeover of New College, a top-ranked liberal arts college, turning a bastion of inclusion and civility into an unrecognizable campus that abolished DEI efforts, eliminated its gender studies program, fired faculty and replaced administrative leaders. Students and professors have fled the school for other colleges and its ranking has plummeted.
The Oct. 7, 2023, terrorist attack perpetrated by Hamas, an organization devoted to the elimination of Israel, was so brutal in its execution that it should have elicited clear condemnation from university leaders throughout the country. Instead, as some student groups defended Hamas and antisemitic incidents increased, universities grappled with how they should publicly respond to the terrorism and kidnappings, as well as how to keep their campuses secure.
This was soon followed by a show-trial congressional hearing in which three female presidents of the nation’s top universities provided overly legalistic responses to the trap set by the House Education and the Workforce Committee. The presidents gave tortured responses to simplistic questions, walking directly into the minefield that exploded with their efforts to address their concomitant obligations to protect free expression.
But freedom of expression should not prevent a university from speaking with unequivocal clarity in matters of moral imperative. An institution should be capable of speaking as a governing and leadership body, while promoting and protecting the free expression of ideas among students and faculty.
Indeed, the highest calling of higher education should be the ability to both model courageous behavior and encourage civil discourse in ways that can serve as conflict-resolution lessons throughout life.
Universities are essential to a thriving democracy. They have the privilege of teaching lessons to generations of students that will guide them throughout their lives. With that privilege comes the obligation to confront their moral obligation to speak in times of crisis, and then infuse their campuses with opportunities for civil dialogue to address the passions and perspectives that will emerge.
In these difficult times, with so much at risk, there is no such thing as principled silence. There is, however, the opportunity for academic institutions to demonstrate leadership and learning lessons that can have far-reaching implications beyond what takes place in the classroom.




















U.S. President Donald Trump delivers the State of the Union address during a joint session of Congress in the House Chamber at the Capitol on Feb. 24, 2026, in Washington, D.C. Trump delivered his address days after the Supreme Court struck down the administration's tariff strategy, and amid a U.S. military buildup in the Persian Gulf threatening Iran.
Some MAGA loyalists have turned on Trump. Why the rest haven’t
I recently watched "A Face in the Crowd" for the umpteenth time.
I had a better reason than procrastination to rewatch Elia Kazan’s brilliant 1957 film exploring populism in the television age. It was homework. I was asked to discuss it with Turner Classic Movies host Ben Mankiewicz at the just-concluded TCM Film Festival in Los Angeles. As a pundit and an author, I do a lot of public speaking. But I don’t really do a lot of cool public speaking, so this was a treat.
With that not-very-humble brag out of the way, I had a depressing realization watching it this time.
"A Face in the Crowd" tells the story of a charming drifter with a dark side named Larry “Lonesome” Rhodes, played brilliantly by Andy Griffith. A singer with the gift of the gab, Rhodes takes off on radio but quickly segues to the brand-new medium of television. He becomes a national sensation — and political kingmaker — by forming a deep connection with the masses, particularly among the rural and working classes. His core audience is made up of people with grievances. “Everybody that’s got to jump when somebody else blows the whistle,” as Rhodes puts it.
The film’s climax (spoiler alert) comes when Rhodes’ manager and spurned lover, Marcia, turns on the microphone while the credits rolled at the end of “Cracker Barrel,” his national TV show. Rhodes tells his entourage what he really thinks of the “morons” in his audience. “Shucks, I can take chicken fertilizer and sell it to them for caviar. I can make them eat dog food, and they’ll think it’s steak. … Good night, you stupid idiots.”
It was a canonical “hot mic” moment in American cinema. But the idea that if people could glimpse the “real person” behind the popular facade, they’d turn on them is a very old theme in literature — think Pierre Choderlos de Laclos’ "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" (1782) or Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s "The School for Scandal" (1777), in which diaries and letters do the work of microphones.
Kazan and screenwriter Budd Schulberg were very worried about the ability of demagogues to whip up populist fervor and manipulate the masses through the power of TV, in part because everyone had already seen it happen with radio and film, by Father Coughlin in America and Hitler in Germany. But as dark as their vision was, they still clung to the idea that if the demagogue was exposed, the people would instantly turn on their leader in an “Emperor’s New Clothes” moment for the mass media age.
And that’s the source of my depressing realization. I think they were wrong. It turns out that once that organic connection is made, even a shocking revelation of the truth won’t necessarily break the spell.
In 2016, a lot of writers revisited "A Face in the Crowd" to understand the Trump phenomenon. After all, here was a guy who used a TV show — "The Apprentice" — and social media to build a massive following, going over the heads of the “establishment.” Trump’s own hot mic moment with "Access Hollywood," in which he boasted of his sexual predations, proved insufficient to undo him. That was hardly the only such moment for him. We’ve heard Trump bully the Georgia secretary of state to “find 11,780 votes.” He told Bob Woodward he deliberately “played down” COVID-19. After leaving office, he was recorded telling aides he shouldn’t be sharing classified documents with them — then doing it anyway. And so on.
Trump’s famous claim that he could “shoot somebody” on Fifth Avenue and not lose any voters may have been hyperbole. But it’s not crazy to think he wouldn’t lose as many voters as he should.
In the film, Lonesome Rhodes implodes when Americans encounter his off-air persona. The key to Trump’s success is that he ran as his off-air persona. Why people love that persona is a complicated question. Among the many complementary explanations is that he comes across as authentic, and some people value authenticity more than they value good character, honesty, or competence.
This is not just a problem for Republicans. Maine Senate candidate Graham Platner once had a Nazi tattoo and has said things about women as distasteful as Trump’s “grab them by (the genitals)” comments, and the Democratic establishment is rallying around him because he’s authentic — and because Democrats want to win that race.
Many prominent MAGA loyalists are turning on Trump these days. They claim — wrongly in my opinion — that he’s changed and that the Iran war is a betrayal of their cause. But if you look at the polls, voters who describe themselves as “MAGA” still overwhelmingly support Trump. In short, he still has the Fifth Avenue voters on his side.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.