Y

ou, sir, are killing us!” 
shouted 
one 
of 
the 

students, 
as 
fellow 

protesters flashed signs accusing 
Charles Murray of being a white 
supremacist 
and 
a 

fascist. One went even 
further, pointing at 
Murray and accusing 
him of “denying her 
existence” 
since 

she is a woman of 
color in science. The 
protesters had been 
driven 
to 
disrupt 

Murray 
in 
large 

part 
because 
of 

his book “The Bell 
Curve,” which drew 
correlations between race and 
IQ and has rightly inspired a lot 
of suspicion among academics. 
Yet, to suggest Murray, who 
supports same-sex marriage and 
is an openly anti-Trump member 
of the Republican Party, is part 
and parcel of the white nativist 
movement is beyond a stretch — it 
is a lie.

The disruption of Murray’s 

speech 
at 
the 
University 

of 
Michigan 
represented 
a 

worrying 
national 
trend 
— 

activists 
erroneously 
labeling 

the speech of a controversial 
speaker as hateful to prevent a 
free exchange of ideas. These 
mischaracterizations harm the 
very causes activists seek to 
bring attention to, by driving 
away legions of supporters from 
moderate students like myself. 
If they must disrupt speech, 
they would be wiser to target 
the outspokenly racist, sexist or 
“alt-right” ideologues who visit 
college campuses.

Murray is but one example 

of a mislabeled speaker — radio 
host Ben Shapiro, psychologist 
Jordan Peterson or even Claire 
Gastañaga, executive director 
of the American Civil Liberties 
Union of Virginia, have been 
grouped 
together 
with 
the 

genuinely incendiary like Milo 
Yiannopoulos, or worse, self-
proclaimed white nationalists 
like Richard Spencer. All have 
had their speeches canceled 
or disrupted despite their only 
shared belief being their support 
for absolute freedom of speech. 
Claire 
Gastañaga 
was 
even 

prevented from speaking at an 

event titled “Students and the 
First Amendment” when the 
ACLU announced its defense of 
the right for “alt-right” speakers 
to march in Charlottesville, Va.

Perhaps 
if 
the 

anger and labels were 
reserved 
for 
neo-

Nazis 
like 
Richard 

Spencer, the public 
would 
sympathize 

more 
with 
the 

goal 
of 
ridding 

these 
ideas 
from 

our 
communities. 

Unfortunately, 
the 

current 
state 
of 

activism leaves many 
Americans 
to 
fear 

that 
campuses 
have 
become 

completely intolerant of opposing 
ideas. 
After 
an 
Intelligence 

Squared debate at Yale University, 
66 percent of the audience agreed 
with the view that free speech is 
being threatened on campus, a 17 
percent increase from the tally at 
the start of the debate.

According to a Pew Research 

poll, four in 10 millennials believe 
the government should be able 
to prevent people from making 
statements that are offensive to 
minority groups, so I shudder 
at the thought of my generation 
becoming 
future 
legislators 

who take cues from the activist 
movement. 
They 
would 
be 

working on a slippery slope — how 
can you truly define offensive 
speech 
if 
every 
individual’s 

tolerance level to verbal abuse 
differs? While I can understand 
their sympathy for those hurt 
by racist speech, I am more 
skeptical of the nebulously defined 
microaggression that could nudge 
its way into such legislation; 
policing this type of language 
would be virtually impossible due 
to the limitless ways one can claim 
they were targeted.

It is important to understand 

the divide in reasoning that some 
activists seem to have compared 
to the general public, which 
widely 
condemns 
restrictions 

on hate speech. Some who seek 
to restrict speech apparently 
justify their belief with the notion 
that once words are perceived 
to be racist, they are justified 
in restricting it because these 
words can amount to mental 
and physical violence; in other 

words, it seems that those who 
defend free speech are condoning 
violence toward others. Since 
the police and administration 
aren’t preventing these attacks, 
it appears that some activists 
see it as their duty to disrupt 
supporters 
of 
free 
speech, 

sometimes resorting to tangible 
physical violence.

This 
reasoning 
is 
flawed. 

Most students who listen to 
“controversial” 
speakers 
are 

interested 
in 
an 
intellectual 

exchange of ideas or a chance to 
sit in and attempt to understand 
the ideas of the other side. Yet, at 
some universities, these curious 
listeners have had to dodge the 
fists of radical protesters who 
equate dialogue or interest in the 
other side with the same vigor as 
a line of marching Nazis. Their 
other equally unjustifiable tactics: 
blocking 
entrances, 
seizing 

microphones 
and 
mocking 

listeners leads to an atmosphere 
of fear on campus — but not to 
their intended targets. Ordinary 
students are the ones who feel 
the heat — at Yale University, 42 
percent of students and 71 percent 
of conservative students report 
that they feel uncomfortable 
giving their opinion on politics. 
This fear makes it harder for 
students to grasp onto their own 
unique set of political values, for 
they worry about straying too far 
from the party line on campus.

At 
the 
University 
of 

Michigan, 
conservatives 

have 
felt 
this 
tension 
in 

their 
discussions, 
first-

year 
seminars 
and 
clubs. 

After 
President 
Donald 

Trump’s election, hundreds 
of community members on 
campus signed a petition in 
response to an open letter by 
a student at the University, 
affirming that they, too, felt 
unwelcome on campus. We 
should ensure our campus 
remains welcoming of these 
students, and stand up to 
unwarranted 
claims 
that 

associates them or the speakers 
they show up to listen to 
with the same anger directed 
toward fringe racist elements 
in our society.

C

harles 
Murray 
— 

controversial 
social 

scientist — delivered 

a speech on campus Oct. 11, 
despite somewhat significant 
protest. This, once again, 
raises two questions we seem 
incapable of escaping for the 
foreseeable political future: 
What are the limits of free 
speech, especially on college 
campuses? And who and what 
deserves to be protested? 

To immediately undermine 

myself, I don’t think free 
versus censored speech in a 
traditional sense is actually 
the 
interesting 
question. 

Murray is allowed to speak on 
this public university campus, 
whether or not the University 
of 
Michigan’s 
chapter 
of 

College Republicans invite 
or sponsor him. What we 
as students, and many of 
us as activists, seem to be 
concerned 
with, 
though, 

is whether one should try 
to silence someone who, at 
best, walks the line between 
academic science and racism.

There is a distinction — and 

a majority of college students 
agree with me — between 
intentionally offensive rhetoric 
(such 
as 
racial 
slurs) 
and 

legitimate academic discourse, 
even over contentious topics. My 
resistance to protests designed to 
silence one’s opposition applies 
only to this sort of dialogue, 
where our primary question 
can safely be “What best checks 
speech we disagree with?” In 
this case, I think the answer is 
often counterspeech, not protest.

One of the forces keeping 

Murray’s ideas alive well past 
their expiration date is the 
allure of dangerous or forbidden 
ideas. I presume we’ve all met at 
least one person convinced that 
feminism is a grand conspiracy 
against men or that trans rights 
are just the result of wild liberal 
overreach. The same principle 

applies here: Some faction of 
people will believe individuals 
protest Murray’s ideas because 
they undermine the liberal lie, 
not because they’re relics from a 
worse part of our history.

A 
response 
designed 
to 

produce converts, then, meets 
the ideas of Murray and others 
like him directly. There is a 
definite place for general protest 
and I want to reiterate that this is 
not a condemnation of those who 
prefer that method; I only want 
to argue that when people frame 
themselves as trying to bring up 
opposing arguments in a world 
of political correctness, meeting 
one idea with another will be 
more effective than trying to 
drown them out. 

Physical protections of the 

University 
and 
University 

security aside, there are few 
places as well structured for 
counterspeech as a university. 
There were several professors 
among 
those 
protesting 

Murray; would none of them 
have been willing to make a 
counterpresentation, debunking 
Murray’s claim or defending an 
alternative philosophy? What 
about 
our 
student 
activists, 

who have proven themselves in 
the past to be quite persuasive? 
A parallel speech would offer 
interested parties the critical 
opportunity to show up for, 
rather than against, something.

It’s impossible to guarantee 

complete 
safety. 
One 
group 

divided, though, seems obviously 
more apt to dissolve into ugliness 
than two groups looking to be 
swayed. Each speech’s audience, 
thus, would be united in their 
demand 
from 
the 
speaker: 

Persuade me that you’re right, 
whether it’s for the first time or 
the fortieth time.

Protest 
asks 
whether 

certain ideas are “permitted”; 
counterspeech asks what ideas 
are more persuasive. The ability 
to mobilize is important, but — 
and I think this is fairly universal 
— the end goal is persuasion. Our 
highly monitored — especially 
in public spaces — environment 
here, along with the ideal of 
academic freedom, creates a 
safe space for dangerous ideas. 
What do we have to gain from 
forfeiting a chance to convert 
rather than contain?

Anger in response to people 

like Charles Murray is justified, 
and there are times when 
containment is the only rational 
course of action. Enabled here 
as we are to act politically, 
however, that anger might more 
effectively be directed toward 
winning the conflict of ideas. I 
don’t think Murray’s claims are 
hard to succeed against, but one 
cannot win a debate without 
first having one. If we are right, 
what ideological threat does a 
debate pose?

The effectiveness of otherwise 

feebly constructed arguments 
comes from their framing. As 
long as one gives their opposition 
grounds to claim that they are 
being silenced for speaking the 
uncomfortable truth, not for 
espousing bankrupt ideology, 
they cede their strongest tool 
for argument. In the context of 
a university, winning debates 
will be more effective than 
preventing them.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
4 — Tuesday, October 24, 2017

REBECCA LERNER

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

EMMA KINERY

Editor in Chief

ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY 

and REBECCA TARNOPOL 

Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

Speech and counterspeech

HANK MINOR | COLUMN

Unjust disruption

LUKE JACOBS | COLUMN

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns

Samantha Goldstein

Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Sarah Khan

Anurima Kumar

Max Lubell

Lucas Maiman

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy 

Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury

Ali Safawi

Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Stephanie Trierweiler

Ashley Zhang

Luke Jacobs can be reached at 

lejacobs@umich.edu.

NATALIE BROWN | NATALIE CAN BE REACHED AT NGBROWN@UMICH.EDU

Mugging at the gym

COREY DULIN | COLUMN

I 

can’t just get up and go to 
the gym — it’s a process. 
I 
need 
to 
get 
there 

physically and mentally. The 
Intramural 
Sports 

Building is an easy 
enough 
walk, 
but 

there is a ton of 
mental preparation 
that 
takes 
place 

before 
anyone 

swipes my Mcard. 
Anytime I go to the 
IM building, I put 
myself in a mood. I 
replay Cardi B and 
DMX in my head to 
get to a place where 
I feel slightly less awkward and 
misplaced entering the gym.

I, like many other people, 

have a mug when I go to the 
gym. I try to make myself look 
tough, to look like someone you 
don’t want to mess with.

My gym mug is completely 

different from any other facial 
expressions I make. People 
have a hard time believing 
that I can drive, so I’m used 
to trying to make myself seem 
less like a wide-eyed kid and 
more like an actual adult. I 
walk around campus with a 
straight face and tunnel vision, 
but when I go to the gym I take 
the look a bit farther.

Picture me, a 5-foot-4-inch 

skinny 
teenager, 
deadpan 

with a slight furrow in my 
brows. This creates a look 
meant to intimidate, but at its 
core is my sad attempt to look 
threatening, a way to show I 
know what I’m doing, even 
though I don’t. Anytime I 
step into a gym I mainly focus 
on making sure I don’t do 
something worth putting in a 
gym fail compilation.

I think that most people do 

some version of this when they go 
to a gym; I believe only a minority 
of 
society 
feels 
completely 

comfortable and confident every 
time they walk into a building and 
see weights, treadmills and other 
exercise equipment.

Those Planet Fitness 

commercials get it — 
“gymtimidation” 
is 

real and most people 
suffer from some form 
of it. I can’t help but 
constantly worry at 
the gym. I wonder if 
I’m doing the exercise 
I found on YouTube 
correctly. 
I 
wonder 

if this exercise looks 
stupid 
or 
weird. 
I 

wonder if I can lift this 

weight without a spotter and if I 
couldn’t, I wonder how loud and 
how embarrassing it would be if it 
fell. Most of all, I wonder if anyone 
caught on to the game of pretend I 
play and who will be the first to call 
me out.

If I’m going to get called 

out anywhere, it’s going to 
happen in the weight room. 
There I’m an easy target: I 
stick out because the space is 
dominated by guys and I look 
like I have no business there. 
I didn’t come with a weight 
belt and I’m not a muscular 
person. The weight rooms 
are my least favorite area of 
the gym and the whole place 
makes 
me 
uncomfortable. 

They have so many mirrors; 

they force you to confront 
yourself. 
You 
can’t 
stare 

blindly ahead like you would 
on a stationary bike or a 
treadmill, you have to squat 
and stare at your reflection.

I don’t want to stare at 

myself but I also don’t want 
to be forced to look at other 
people. That’s why going to the 
gym after 4 p.m. is one of my 
nightmares; I can’t function 
during peak time. After 4 p.m., 
using a machine becomes a 
challenge because there are 
so many people. Also, as more 
people lay claim to machines, 
grunt and pace around, the 
more insecure I get.

I know that this whole idea 

of mugging at the gym and the 
awkwardness and insecurity 
that comes with it is silly — I 
shouldn’t feel a need to justify 
my presence by making a 
face; I shouldn’t pretend like 
I belong. However, I do, and 
I don’t just do it when I go to 
the gym.

We all act a certain way to 

try to look a certain way to 
fit situations in life. Mostly, 
because we want acceptance 
or maybe because of imposter 
syndrome. 
But 
regardless, 

we shouldn’t ever have these 
concerns. I should walk into 
places and situations without 
so much concern about how I 
fit in and whether I stick out. 
I need to get more comfortable 
taking 
up 
space 
and 
get 

over deciding if I belong 
somewhere. My scrawny arms 
can use the bench press, I can 
use the squat rack — I don’t 
need to explain myself. Just 
like I don’t need to explain 
myself or justify my presence 
in any other situation I find 
myself in.

Corey Dulin can be reached at 

cydulin@umich.edu.

Hank Minor can be reached at 

hminor@umich.edu.

LUKE 

JACOBS

I shouldn’t feel 
a need to justify 
my presence by 
making a face; I 
shouldn’t pretend 

like I belong.

COREY 
DULIN

Our primary 

question should be 
“What best checks 

the speech we 
disagree with?”

SUBMIT TO SURVIVORS SPEAK

The Opinion section has created a space in The Michigan 

Daily for first-person accounts of sexual assault and 

its corresponding personal, academic and legal 

implications. Submission information can be found at 

https://tinyurl.com/survivespeak.

