In my first studio interview, Lee Hall of British Thought Leaders asks me what is like to be a conservative student at a university under ideological capture.
I sketch out how cancel culture dominates — from activists plotting against speakers in private group chats to the blockading venues — and what a smattering of lonely but heroic academics are doing to circumvent the treachery of unsympathetic university leaders and hostile ‘inclusion’ committees.
I give an account of what part I played in ensuring public intellectuals continue to have a voice in our ancient institutions — including how I masqueraded as an activist to gain information about forthcoming cancellation attempts, and smuggled audiences into talks through back entrances to prevent them from being persecuted by their judgemental colleagues.
The following are the notes I wrote in preparation for the interview, including details and extrapolations otherwise left out of the podcast:
We’ve had several guests — Ian Pace, Dennis Hayes, James Tooley — talking about cancel culture among academics. But this is the first time we’re hearing it from the student side. Can you tell us your academic background and what you did to support free speech at university?
Growing up, I went state school that fluctuated between good and underperforming. My last name – Bentley-Astor – is a big misnomer. I am from a working-class family, historically working-class family – miners, farmers and military men. Despite what conspiracy theorists say on internet, I, in fact, not a ‘posh blonde bird who has Mummy and Daddy pay for everything’. I have not had a private school education – I’ve had a ‘liberal, progressive’ education.
What do I mean by ‘liberal, progressive’? I mean that the what we were taught, how we were taught, how we were regarded outside the classroom – our relationship to autonomy and responsibility and society – were founded upon philosophical premises that can be attributed to the liberal tradition (to the extent liberals can be said to have a tradition and not simply a modality). For example, Lock’s presupposition that everyone is a blank slate from which they can, in theory, become anyone, or, as others have advanced, can achieve anything – which is quaint but not true. Another example is Rousseau’s Noble Savage: the idea that each and every one is born pure and good and that it is only society and the ways of Man that corrupt this inherent nobility – which is as true as it is untrue. The idea that all cultures are equal (except those culture which are ‘indigenous’ which should be venerated as pure and wise), that science is superior to God, that the only truth is power, and that there is, therefore, no capital-T ‘Truth’, only your truth and my truth and everybody else’s truth; these are the presupposition cradling our state-run education system.
I believe this has a bearing upon the rest of this story because the Western canon has been all but stripped from state schools. State school children are not grounded in a national story, nor are they fortified with traditions; free speech, therefore, individualism and tolerance, the reason for being tolerant, how to be tolerant without being a pushover, all of these things are not self-evident to Generation Z as they are to grammar school Millennials, and – I argue – underpins the revenge, tit-for-tat culture on university campuses today.
So, what kind of events get the attention of the cancel mob and how does word spread?
It is events that fall along the lines of identity politics – gender, race, sexuality, sometimes class, though not so much class anymore. And that which extends from identity politics – namely colonization, immigration, the relationship between men and women, family, nationality. In more concrete terms: Helen Joyce talking about gender transition, Kathleen Stock talking about gender in relation to sex-based rights and homosexuality, Simon Fanshawe talking about sexuality in relation to gender, Stephen J Shaw talking about collapsing birth rates, Jordan Peterson staking a claim that there is a capital T-truth which is perceptible and perhaps knowable, too, and that the Truth does not actually give a damn about who we think we are, only what we are.
In terms of how the word spreads, it almost always begins in someone having a moan on Facebook – about how ‘x’ or ‘y’ person is a bigot because, and I feel unsafe, and I am privileged enough to live in this castle but I’ll be damned if you – peasant over there who also lives in this castle with me but disagrees with the way I think the world should work – is going to exercise the right I exercise daily, which is to freely associate and congregate, and let you invite this reprobate into my house. Then another student will chime in about how disgusting and typical this is that their college, their faculty, continues to let such bigots come and speak when invited. At this point the labels, ‘far-Right’, ‘transphobic’, ‘racist’, ‘ableist’, start to get thrown around and students then group together on WhatsApp and in their diversity committees to write a letter of complaint to their colleges, more often than not demanding the speaker be uninvited, or, as it is better known ‘deplatformed’ or ‘cancelled’. Protests are then planned in these chats to be staged on the night, and sometimes the student newspapers will publish a spate of articles decrying the speaker and colleges and the staff involved; advertising at the end that a protest is taking place. And if it really kicks off, it gets picked up by the main stream newspapers.
Loaded terms like homophobic, racist or transphobic are used to attack the event and scare off attendees who worry about being associated with bigots. For those who still plan to attend there’s guilt tactics. Can you tell us about these?
It is as you describe. Protesters attempt to tar the audience with ascribing slurs to the speaker. So if Helen Joyce, for example, is transphobic (which she isn’t), then you (as an audience member) must at least be transphobe sympathizing (which you aren’t). It is the old practice of guilt by association. The days are long gone where you go to listen to someone speak because you disagree with them – or, at least, disagree with them in part. If you are supporter, you are in the room and if you are an enemy of the speaker or an enemy of their ideas, you are outside protesting. There is no room for fence sitters or the curious in this scenario because these protests will shout on the street, “If you are not with us then you are against us.” You could not have a nuanced view if you tried. And this scares away a significant number of people who are usually sympathetic to the speaker or to the act of debate. And it is no bloody wonder! These protesters – around eighty to one-hundred and fifty people – will crowd the entrances to the venue and chant with the placards. Which for me is water off a duck’s back. I enjoy strutting through the mob but for some people it is one of the most intimidating situations they have ever been in and if they are the conscientious type, walking through a mob like that is going to make them pause and scour themselves as to whether they made a wrong judgement.
Now, one of the ways organizers try to surmount this is having a back entrance by which to smuggle in audiences, away from the noise and gaze of the protesters and on-lookers. Another is having a waiting room open adjacent to the speaking hall some hours before so people can come and sit and read or work before the protesters begin to form up.
Sometimes the venue wants to hold the event but have to cancel due to security concerns. Do you have any examples of the trouble they are concerned about?
Sure. There is the basic stuff of fire exit safety. If protesters surround the building usually, they will congregate around the windows and fire exits as this is as close as they can get to the auditorium without being in the room. There is the potential for crush situations if protests get in and their number exceeds the venue’s capacity. There is potential property damage – paintings getting knocked of the wall in a tussle, or vandalized in protest, paint scrapped off the walk in a squeeze, or by protesters hammering upon them with saucepans or sticks. Then there is the safety of the speakers – planning the exit route should someone attempt to assault them, and what happens is someone does assault them? Is it soup or milkshake being thrown is could there be the potential for an acid attack or a stabbing? Which sounds far-fetched but it has happened – and you only need someone who is ideological, and mentally ill, and having a psychotic breakdown because they think the world is out to get then and then suddenly you are in a potentially life-threatening emergency. You can understand the stress for venues; there is a lot to worry about.
If students attend a controversial event, what repercussions could they face (at the event and in the longer term)?
The two main repercussions students fear is social ostracism and career ruination – this is the same with regards to speaking their mind in the classroom as well as the extra-curricular events they want to attend. Students fear that their friends – who may not know much of their beliefs or political views – will see them entering a venue and say to themselves, “Oh my God, Tom is a racist! And there was me thinking he was a sensible, good natured human being.” And they fear this news, that they were seen sitting in the same room as Jordan Peterson or Eric Kauffman getting back to their supervisors or faculty leads and find that their colleagues refuse to work with a ‘bigot’ and find themselves overlooked for promotion or, worse, (if they hold any position of responsibility) find themselves being investigated.
What would you say to the students who are behind these cancellations?
I wish I could be more sophisticated when answering this question but the answer is grow the fuck up. Stop navel-gazing. Nobody is contesting your right to exist, nobody your protesting wants women to get back in the kitchen, and for gays to get back in the closet, and nobody wants to pin down the people who identify as trans and put them in their sex-specific clothing. Most of the people in need of protection from protesters are the dissidents and whistle-blowers – they are women or gay people or trans people, or detransitioners who often share the same superficial ‘identity’ of the protesters but come to a different point of view to the protesters. And I can say this with confidence because I was one of these radical Leftist who thought the world and his dog was out to get me. But it is paranoia, for the most part. Where there could be a real threat to their rights and freedoms, they are not protesting. You don’t see people getting in a tizz for the gays in Iran or Uyghur Muslims or the quote-unquote ‘trans-children’ getting experimented upon by gender theorists.
University used to be seen as a time for discovering new ideas and broadening your mind. But contemporary universities seem more about enforcing ideology and capturing young minds. What’s it like as a student if you refuse to toe the line? Is there a subculture for such outsiders?
Liberating. Picture being on the highest mountain and knowing yourself to be invisible after years cowering underground. That scene at towards the end of V is for Vendetta, where Evey emerges from her cell after weeks of isolation and she says, ‘God is in the rain.’ Right. God is in the rain. It is better to be open to the elements, exposed to the limitless sky, surrendering to the things that are higher and bigger than you in order to be in what is right – to walk in truth, to know there is a reality and it is not all an endless mind game. To kick a rock and it will hurt in and it will be nobody’s fault by your own.
But, of course, I speak for myself, and maybe that was an advert to come and join me in the rain, but for many, it is this silent tyranny from which they struggle to find the confidence to liberate themselves for the reasons of exclusion and discrimination I gave before.
There is a counter culture for these students - in Cambridge at least. I think in Oxford as well. There are a handful of secret societies in which one has to be invited or recommended or vetted for entry. At other universities some people find refuge in the debating societies that still believe in free speech in most circumstances - Bristol, Durham, and Royal Holloway come to mind as containing students who are maintaining this demure debating space.
Outside the universities there are some good movements in the Battle of Ideas and Living Freedom, which encourages students and young people in general to engage in political life and embrace the openness and tolerance required to be in the productive in the public square.
Some of the academics I’ve had on the show said their colleagues have to self-censor for the sake of their career. Is this something you’ve experienced as a student?
I've had at least three supervisors in my time at Cambridge who warned me that the kind of subjects I wanted to write papers on would not be well tolerated and could impact my grades. I did not care because it more was at stake than my grades - the was my integrity, my self-worth, my own intellectual development, my independence. It made my Dad very nervous but there was no question in it for me. I almost felt that coming out of that place than a lower grade than I was capable of achieving was a badge of honour because it meant I didn't get crushed by the system – I didn’t parrot things I didn’t believe in order to get ahead.
But more broadly, I came to university with the intention of furthering my career in theatre and that firmly came to an end when I was there once I refused to state my pronouns and suggested than women can be bitches as much as men can be bastards – this was in a play about villagers in the 17th century accusing each other of witchcraft. I can’t have a career there now, and may never be able to have a career there. And that is fifteen years of my life spent training as a dancer and actor and director thrown into an icy wind.
Do you think the Higher Education Bill will make much difference among students?
Not much. The universities have to want to enforce their own free speech rules and I think they regard the rules as being more trouble than their worth. The financial penalties might be enough to make them play ball. Events might go ahead more and there is hope in that. Then protesting students will see the world does not end if people speak and prospective audience members see that the world does not end if they attend. And hopefully we will return to an equilibrium that way. But my hope, really, is in these secret societies and time.
How can cultural change be brought about in universities and what changes would you like to see?
You know, I am actually not particularly motivated in that regard. I like watching. I'm interested in the human condition and I like watching it play out. But that is the writer in me.
If I were pushed upon the point, I would have less universities. For the most part, universities are false promises and scams; third-rate teaching for first-rate prices for no improved job prospects. Humanities degrees in particular are probably harming career prospects. I imagine the manager of a shop opens a CV and sees ‘Bachelors in Psychology’ or ‘Masters in Gender Studies’ and roles their eyes – they know such people are probably more hassle than they are worth.
It is hard to make the millennial generation, and those who flourished under the grammar school system, see that university is not the leg-up it once was. The abundance of universities and their low-threshold for admittance means that the ‘high-skill’ market has been flooded by mediocrity and employers, when forced to choose between wading through the swamp to find the gold or training an undereducated but enthusiastic kid from scratch – a kid who will be loyal and unencumber by nonsense theories – employers are choosing the latter.