THE CHEMERINSKY MATTER
Timing is everything
Jerry Kang / Special to The National Law Journal September 24, 2007
The
hiring, surprise firing and awkward rehiring of Professor Erwin
Chemerinsky to be the dean of the University of California at Irvine
law school has been quite the spectacle. Inside of a week, we quickly
learned that Chemerinsky had accepted the offer, then was fired due to
political pressures, then was rehired in the face of a furious backlash
against Chancellor Michael Drake.
Now
that Chemerinsky has been rehired and the relevant parties are playing
nice, the post-mortem will probably go on only a little longer, to try
to see who applied what kind of political pressure. As this story's
newsworthiness dissipates, many people will forget the details and take
away some rough lesson about political power: Exercise of naked
political power by conservatives fired Chemerinsky, then exercise of
naked political power by liberals (and some others) hired him back. But
this somewhat cynical interpretation misses something significant.
When
news of the firing initially surfaced, very smart people defended
Irvine's decision even if it was politically influenced. They
emphasized that, first, a deanship is an administrative position not an
academic one; thus, complaints about academic freedom are exaggerated.
Second, if politics can be used in the initial hiring decision, what's
so wrong with considering politics a few weeks later?
These
are excellent points. And I do not mean to make any detailed legal
argument about academic freedom. But only formalism would suggest that
a law school deanship is not also an academic position: The dean is
also a tenured professor of law. More substantively, many legal
academics view associate deanships and deanships as the natural path of
promotion. When Chemerinsky was fired, faculty across the nation were
sent a clear signal that straying from the narrow mainstream can
endanger upward mobility. This is why in the rehiring, it was crucial
and completely expected that both Chemerinsky and Drake would
underscore the value of academic freedom.
Still,
the timing question remains. If politics can be considered in the
initial hiring decision, what's the big deal with considering it later?
In my mind, it all comes back to . . . Internet pornography. In my
communications law class, I teach U.S. v. American Library Association,
539 U.S. 194 (2003), which addressed the constitutionality of requiring
public libraries that receive federal funds to install software filters
on Internet terminals. Because filters block far more than indecency,
this law was challenged on First Amendment grounds. In the arguments,
Board of Education v. Pico, 457 U.S. 853 (1982), was prominent. In
Pico, a plurality of the U.S. Supreme Court distinguished between
acquiring a book in the first instance and removing the book from the
shelves after it had already been bought.
The
analytical distinction between acquisition and removal is hardly
airtight, but it smacks of common sense. Given limited resources, a
library cannot buy every book possible. Accordingly, it must exercise
some judgment about quality, content and value added, which in some
cases will be controversial. But such decisions should not be strictly
scrutinized by courts; that would simply be unrealistic. At bottom, a
local library's decision to carry Slaughter House Five instead of The
Greatest Generation should not be second-guessed.
By
contrast, once a book has been bought, its subsequent removal
broadcasts an entirely different message. It focuses attention on a
single book, and marks it as educationally, socially and politically
suspect. Further, if this decision is made not by professional
educators on pedagogical grounds, but by "political forces," red flags
are properly raised. And according to Pico, judges should be far more
skeptical of book removals than failure to acquire them in the first
place.
It
turns out that Pico illuminates not only filters of indecency but also
filters of deans. What happened to Chemerinsky is galling not because
money and politics apparently influenced a hiring decision. We are not
so nave to think that this is a rare occurrence. But this was not
merely an acquisition question — a failure to hire Chemerinsky in the
first instance. Rather, he had already signed the contract and fielded
a board of advisors. This was removal. To be sure, firing a sitting
dean for being politically incorrect is worse. But what happened was
almost as bad.
As
Pico revealed, timing is everything. Similar events can mean different
things. Not hiring Chemerinsky in the first place, rescinding the
contract or firing him in 2010 for some provocative editorial he might
write each have the same effect: Chemerinsky is not the dean. That
said, each act conveys a very different social meaning — about who
wields true power, not only in the Beltway or on Wall Street, but also
in ivory towers in Orange County. It is only because the firing so
loudly signalled who was in charge that the protests contested that
message more loudly.
Of course politics matter, in every field of life, including hiring of
prominent deans. That said, politics — whether left or right — should
not and cannot matter too much in the academic setting. And what counts
as "too much" does depend on timing. The Chemerinsky matter can be best
understood in this light.
Jerry Kang is a professor of law at the University of California at Los Angeles School of Law.