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COLLEGES, CLIMATE, AND OTHER CHIMERAS

In 2017, the Pew Research Center solicited public views on higher education. This was the question they posed: “Would you say that colleges and universities have a positive or a negative effect on the way things are going in this country?”1

At first reading, this might seem a curious question. One wouldn’t look for deep doubts regarding shopping malls or the real estate profession. But the Pew analysts seemed to sense there was an issue here. It turns out that they were on to something. Here is what they found. To start, well over half of Republicans—64 percent—felt that colleges and universities were having an adverse impact on the surrounding society. Only 21 percent of Democrats held that view. As in many surveys, those replying weren’t asked for the reasons behind their views. Still, we may surmise that this many Republicans have misgivings, both about what colleges are teaching and research emanating from universities.

Many Republicans have attended college, but the Pew study didn’t ask people to evaluate their own experiences. Rather, it solicited their view on the impact of higher learning on the country. So let’s look at some activities associated with academe. One college boasts majors in restaurant management and fashion merchandising. Another offers a seminar on Moby-Dick. A third conducts research on pesticides, and a fourth fields a lauded football team. A fifth relies heavily on underpaid adjuncts, while many of its students pile up lifelong debts.

Some Republicans may feel that one or more of these undertakings actually harm the larger society. (Should $150,000/year professors be devoting a semester to a whale?) But it’s unlikely that many Republicans have the minutiae of campus life in mind. Rather, their animus toward higher education is part of a more general appraisal of the media, entertainment, and other clusters they see as liberal or left. If they know one thing about colleges, it is that most professors vote Democratic, and that the majority of campuses veer toward a progressive consensus.

So what riles Republicans is the tenor and content of what is being taught and learned. As most of them see it, what is being imparted is not even knowledge, but left-leaning ideology. (That excursion in Moby-Dick is a critique of late-colonial capitalism.) Even worse, a pretense of objectivity cloaks a vapid amorality. Republicans will affirm respect for the realm of the intellect, as and where they can find it. (Hillsdale College, for instance, or Liberty University.) But the colleges and universities they see aren’t even promoting the interplay needed for open scholarship. Where are affirmative-action searches for Pentecostals and Southern Baptists?

Most universities are associated with advanced research. Yet there is reason to believe that Republicans are as mistrustful about what emerges from laboratories as, say, classes in ethnic studies. Indeed, a similar skepticism dismisses whole areas of scientific knowledge. (For those so inclined, there are websites citing alternative scientists to reinforce their misgivings.) Perhaps the most prominent examples are dismissals of findings from the science of climatology. Accredited scholars in this field are essentially unanimous in agreeing on two truths. One is that global warming and climate change are imperiling the entire planet. The second is that human beings, due to their inventions and activities, are the chief cause of this portentous condition. As was noted earlier, most Democrats accept the scientists’ conclusions and warnings. Most Republicans do not.

How to explain such substantial Republican rejections of what scientists are saying? To address that question, one fact should be put on the table. It is that both parties have sizable catchments of college graduates. Having such a core could explain Democrats’ opinions. After all, an aim of higher education is to instill respect for research on the natural world. So we’re left with explaining why many Republicans with similar schooling remain so suspicious. For one thing, there’s the notion that the sentiments of citizens can and should carry equal weight with those of supposed experts. Insofar as Republicans take this view, they are espousing a form of democracy: that proverbial people in the street are as perceptive as those with acclaimed credentials. Apparently, Republicans regard climate scientists much as they do sociologists and literary critics. In a word, just another knot of academic ideologues. Hence a suspicion that data is being distorted and findings overstated to fit partisan postures.

Is there an alternative science? Somewhat over half—53 percent—of Republicans agree that “humans have always had their present form.”2 Presumably, this means that Homo sapiens appeared as a fully formed handiwork, not through stages in a long process. By contrast, 71 percent of Democrats accept that “human beings have evolved over time.” Few in the GOP now demand that Darwin be stricken from curricula. Rather, the mantra is “teach the controversy.” Its phrasing intimates that evolution is still an open theory, so divine creation and intelligent design deserve comparable classroom time. Course materials are available from organizations like the Institute for Creation Research. Similarly, those challenging warnings on climate change can obtain syllabi, replete with doctoral citations, from the Heartland Institute and the Competitive Enterprise Institute.

Across the political spectrum, people generally believe what they want to believe. Once they have chosen how they see the world and what makes it turn, they select supportive material to strengthen that stance. There are Republican reasons for their reactions. The charge that human excesses are wreaking baleful consequences threatens entrenched interests. The current chief executive has called such tocsins a “hoax,” echoing sundry legislators. It also explains why no Republican demurrals were heard when their president withdrew the United States from the Paris Climate Agreement.

Two more surveys add some dimensions. One asked individuals: “In your view, is the seriousness of global warming generally exaggerated?” Here opinions are being solicited; even more, their beliefs about actual conditions. Among Republicans, 75 percent took an exaggeration position, disdaining what most scientists are saying. On the Democrat side, 15 percent checked that box. A second study simply asked people: “Do you worry a great deal about climate change?” Among Republicans, 82 percent said they did not, against the 34 percent of Democrats who shared that serenity.34

The GOP has long been the party of fossil fuels. Hence its dominance in an arc extending from Kentucky and West Virginia, through Oklahoma and Texas, and up to Wyoming and North Dakota. Al Gore may fulminate that the prognosis for the planet is dire, but Republicans have decided not to lend such broadsides their ears. In its heartland, and much of elsewhere, business bottom lines feature profits garnered from oil and gas and coal. From early days, enterprises have sought free rein to exploit whatever natural resources will enhance their balance sheets. This explains the Republicans’ lack of chagrin over polluted streams and fractured farmlands. The sight of smokestacks spewing fumes attests to an abundance of robust work. That sea levels may be rising by a few inches is dismissed as casuistic alarm.

Since climate itself is so ephemeral, confronting it is unlike other issues. Of course, environmental disquiet is not totally new. At one time, acid rain was on agendas, as was cleaning waterways. But the climatic indictment surpasses any in the past. Citizens are aware they will be asked to change more of the ways they live than ever before. In particular, they face being told to curb pleasures and amenities that are woven into their lives. This regimen would also expand the powers of official agencies, always anathema to Republicans. More rulings bring increased compliance costs, which undercut profits. Nor are businesses the only ones to cavil. Owners of guzzling vehicles and commodious homes would face rising assessments geared to carbon emissions.

Addressing climate and its consequences will be expensive. Bottled water, for example, could double in cost if all of those plastic cylinders are to be ecologically disposed. Not to mention new taxes for an array of public facilities. Here, it hardly needs saying, partisans differ. But in one respect they are similar. In 2018, individuals with incomes over $100,000 accounted for 47 percent of Democratic votes and 52 percent of Republican votes. So both are well-represented in a tier susceptible to higher taxes. Yet when surveyed that year, 72 percent of Republicans felt the taxes they had to pay were too high, whereas only 44 percent of Democrats made that complaint.

So let’s posit two households, giving them both incomes of $150,000. At last reckoning, such families are expected to average $17,863 in federal income taxes. In one home, its residents are steadfast Democrats; in the other, unwavering Republicans. To address human despoliation of the climate, the Democratic family is willing to see its taxes rise, even when that leaves a smaller residue for private purchases. The Republicans feel that the $17,863 now demanded of them is already too high.

The issue isn’t whether Republicans are more enthralled by the panoply of products available for sale. They also oppose taxes on moral grounds, underpinned by allusions to individual freedom and limited government. Nor is this to endow Democrats with sainthood. People of all persuasions decide how they want to cast themselves as moral beings. Whether to heed the warnings of scientists—on climate or other topics—can turn on how citizens manage their own balance of entitlements and obligations.

No, Republicans and Democrats don’t live in different worlds. They occupy the same social and physical reality. But what they see out there—or choose to—takes different shapes and forms. Nor do we come by all our impressions on our own. Democrats are more apt to accept the interpretations of established research and learning, from the hard sciences through their softer cousins. This is partly because more of them have gone through more years of formal schooling. Even before 2016, Democrats drew more holders of bachelor’s and advanced degrees. Yet Republicans can also point to their own catchment of college graduates, including many with professional credentials.

This chapter’s consideration of climate and colleges exposes some common themes. One is that Republicans have a greater affinity for business, with its skewed distribution of income, wealth, and profits. So it cannot be said they are opposed to innovation. From robber barons to Silicon Valley, industrial and commercial success has been based on breaking old molds and pioneering new paths. Yet since this is the case, it may be wondered why Republicans are so loath to expand the parameters of marriage or accept sexual experimentation. Beyond the business sphere, Republicans seem more threatened by changes in society. More Democrats have accepted this pace. This isn’t to deny that there’s reason for disquiet about what may be around the bend. Still, Democrats know a future is coming, and are preparing to be part of it. If anyone—a social scientist?—devises a reliable measure, we will likely find that today’s Republicans are angrier and gloomier than Democrats.

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Republican policies align closer to Biblical morals and values than any other party. (Oklahoma)

Our right to own guns shouldn’t be stripped because of a few psychos who don’t know how to control themselves. (New York)

Those who fail have decided not to take advantage of opportunities. (Indiana)

It all comes down to the issue of abortion for me. Everything else is second to that. (Florida)

You work, you get paid. That’s it. (Oklahoma)