The audacity of anti-tenure legislation

The irony here is so thick you could teach a semester-long course on it—if, you know, state legislators don’t ban irony as a “divisive concept” next session.

We’ve got elected officials, many of whom wouldn’t last five minutes in a peer-reviewed environment. threatening to strip tenure from professors for the crime of… what, exactly? Teaching material that makes someone uncomfortable? Engaging with complex ideas? Meanwhile, these same lawmakers operate in a system where independent thought is political suicide. They vote in lockstep, parrot talking points crafted by consultants, and wouldn’t dare break from the party line for fear of a primary challenge or losing their committee assignment.

So let’s get this straight: the people who can’t distinguish themselves from their own caucus without risking career death want to lecture tenured faculty about accountability and free inquiry. The same folks who need focus groups to figure out what they believe are going to decide what constitutes acceptable scholarship. It’s like being told how to run a marathon by someone who gets winded walking to their car.

And let’s talk about the First Amendment posturing. These legislators love to wrap themselves in constitutional rhetoric until it applies to someone they disagree with. Academic freedom? That’s just “protecting underperformance.” Tenure? An “obstacle to efficiency.” But when a donor or lobbyist whispers in their ear, suddenly they’re profiles in courage. The same people who claim to defend free speech are the ones trying to legislate what can and cannot be taught in a college classroom. You can’t make this up.

Here’s what really gets me: tenure exists precisely because of people like this. It’s a structural protection against political interference in scholarship and teaching. The whole point is to insulate faculty from the whims of whoever happens to hold power at the moment. And now we’re watching state governments systematically dismantle that protection while claiming it’s about “accountability” or “return on investment.”

You want accountability? Let’s start with the legislators who can’t explain the difference between a research university and a community college but feel qualified to restructure higher education. Let’s talk about the ones pushing program cuts based on graduate earnings while simultaneously slashing state funding that might, I don’t know, help those programs succeed. Or the brilliant minds in Utah who think students should be able to opt out of coursework that conflicts with their “personal beliefs” because nothing says rigorous education like a choose-your-own-adventure approach to learning.

And the “efficiency” argument? Please. These are the same people who think running a university like a business is a good idea, despite the fact that businesses fail all the time and we don’t generally want our public institutions operating on that model. They want immediate returns on investment from disciplines that have been foundational to human knowledge for centuries. Philosophy doesn’t produce quarterly earnings reports, so let’s kill it. Never mind that the people who built the systems these legislators claim to revere were steeped in exactly those traditions.

The pattern is familiar because it’s lazy. Teachers got this treatment. Nurses got this treatment. Now it’s professors. Measure everything, cut what doesn’t produce immediate results, strip job protections, and act shocked when qualified people stop entering the profession. Then blame the workers for the crisis you created.

But here’s the kicker: the people making these decisions have the ultimate job security. They get voted out? There’s a lobbying gig waiting. A think tank position. A consulting contract. They’ll land on their feet. The professors they’re targeting? The ones who spent a decade earning a Ph.D., who chose scholarship over higher-paying careers, who actually contribute to the body of human knowledge? They’re the ones being told their work doesn’t matter unless it fits a political agenda or generates revenue.

So yeah, it’s ludicrous. It’s also dangerous. Because once you’ve successfully convinced the public that expertise doesn’t matter, that rigorous inquiry is a luxury we can’t afford, that academic freedom is just a cover for laziness—you’ve gutted one of the few remaining institutions designed to operate outside the logic of profit and political expediency.

And the people doing the gutting? They couldn’t survive a week under the standards they’re trying to impose.