But that’s only if you believe Yale Press — and there may be good reason why you shouldn’t. Jytte Klausen, the Brandeis University professor who authored the book, reported this suspicious fact to the Times:
Aside from the disagreement about the images, Ms. Klausen said she was also disturbed by Yale’s insistence that she could read a 14-page summary of the consultants’ recommendations only if she signed a confidentiality agreement that forbade her from talking about them. “I perceive it to be a gag order,” she said, after declining to sign. While she could understand why some of the individuals consulted might prefer to remain unidentified, she said, she did not see why she should be precluded from talking about their conclusions.
Linda Koch Lorimer, vice president and secretary of Yale University, who had discussed the summary with Ms. Klausen, said on Wednesday that she was merely following the original wishes of the consultants, some of whom subsequently agreed to be identified.
So all 24 people originally did not want to render their unanimous opinion on the record? If you think this story is getting weirder and weirder, you’re not alone.
It all begins to make more sense, though, when you survey the attitude that became apparent in too many corners of American academia when the cartoons were first published in 2005. At Century College in Minnesota, Professor Karen Murdock was repeatedly censored in her efforts to post the cartoons on a bulletin board, eventually resorting to the absurdity of putting a curtain and warning sign over the cartoons. University of Illinois student Acton Gorton, editor of The Daily Illini student newspaper, was fired for printing the cartoons in that student newspaper alongside a column he wrote about the controversy. (We are proud to say that Acton later became a FIRE intern.) Students at the University of Chicago and at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute also faced censorship for posting the cartoons.
And in the worst example of all (and the one most directly analogous to the present controversy), New York University hosted a panel discussion about the cartoons but decided that since the event was open to the public, the cartoons could not actually be shown. Instead, blank easels stood on the stage. FIRE President Greg Lukianoff was part of that panel, and as you can imagine, he had some choice words about NYU’s decision, saying, “Those blank easels were a testament to campus repression and a climate of fear.” NYU even forced a student who was wearing a t-shirt depicting the cartoons to remove it. The fact that NYU President John Sexton, a self-styled free speech advocate, supported his institution’s decision is particularly disturbing. (Maybe Sexton is one of the anonymous two dozen people who told Yale University Press that publishing a book about cartoons without printing those cartoons made all the sense in the world!)
This cravenness in the face of controversy is a very bad sign for the culture of academia, which increasingly seems willing to privilege “sensitivity” and political correctness over the traditional rights to dissent and to discuss and research controversial topics. In 2005, one could almost understand the reluctance to publish the cartoons — after all, people were dying in the riots that the cartoons’ publication launched. But when, nearly four years later, an academic publishing house feels that it still cannot publish these historic cartoons for fear that violence will occur, that publisher has allowed the rage of the least rational and most violent to overwhelm the very real need for historical analysis of important events. That’s a grim precedent indeed.