When in Doubt, Sue

Inside Higher Ed recently ran an interview with Professor Amy Gajda, the author of The Trials of Academe: The New Era of Campus Litigation published in October by Harvard University Press. The book and the interview have much to teach us about Butler’s reaction to The True BU.

Take a look at how the interview opens and see if it sounds familiar: “When in doubt, sue. That philosophy has become an expected part of American society and (to the frustration of many in higher education) academe as well.”

Professor Gajda was asked to comment on the notion that “Many college administrators these days complain that lawyers for their institutions have too much power.” In response, she said, “University counsel have never been busier or more important, but there is a danger in letting lawyers call all the shots. The ‘safest’ course from a litigation standpoint may not be the best for innovation, research, or teaching….College administrators and faculty generally need to be alert to the legal risks, while remaining true to their academic judgment.”

Remember that Butler’s president is on record saying that the university lawyers were operating without his knowledge and not under his control. Actually, though, I don’t think that is what Professor Gajda meant when she said that “lawyers for their institution have too much power.” Frankly, I doubt that she would have ever imagined a situation of the kind Butler’s president wants you to believe. But I have no doubt that the lawyers were complicit in creating Butler’s strategy with respect to intimidating me into shutting down The True BU. And I have no doubt that they play too large a role in the Butler administrative ethos.

Professor Gajda was asked about ways to reduce litigation: “Can you summarize the steps you recommend to colleges to discourage litigation as a means of solving disputes?” Her advice makes good sense. “The most important thing is for colleges to find a way of defusing academic disputes before they harden into a legal complaint. If colleges and universities took greater care to promote communication and a sense of community on campus, there would be fewer lawsuits.”

It seems to me that Butler has a great deal of work to do on this front. What sort of a “sense of community” exists on Butler’s campus when faculty member after faculty member expresses great fear of the administration? How can the administration ignore the problem when music faculty feel they can only come forward anonymously under the protection of a priest to document that what I wrote in The True BU was what they shared with me and that it was accurate? There is one thing that is helping faculty come together and build a shared community: their sense of fear of the Butler administration. Similarly, the Butler administration is all about secrecy. They “classify” more documents than you can imagine. Their two-pronged strategy when dealing with conflict, as has been so well demonstrated throughout my experience, is to demand that the content of all meetings remain secret and to have meetings with as few people at a time as they can get away with so they can tell each group a different “secret.” Amid a climate of fear, this strategy ensures that no one knows what anyone else knows – and thus that administrators are never asked tough questions.

One of the main points of Professor Gajda’s book is that recourse to the court system, while being overused now, came about to correct abuses present on college campuses that occurred when colleges acted as if they were outside of the law. She paints an unsettling picture of how things were: “At one time, colleges were basically unaccountable in the courts. They ignored contracts, trampled speech rights, and dismissed students and faculty on whim or prejudice with basic impunity.” She concludes that thought with the only statements she’s made with which I disagree and which is demonstrably false, at least on one campus in central Indiana: “No one should want to go back to those days.” It is all too obvious that Butler administrators yearn for the good old days when they could act with impunity, when freedom of speech stopped when someone in power didn’t like what was being said.

Professor Gajda does a great service by documenting a very real threat to higher education and the actions of Butler University serve to prove her case definitively.

The president Meets Dick the Butcher

Most of you probably know that Butler's president has a Ph.D. in English. It's fair, therefore, to suspect that he's familiar with Henry VI, Part 2 by William Shakespeare. Given some of the statements the president has been making lately, he seems to have taken to heart the line offered by Shakespeare's Dick the Butcher, "The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers."

This latest turn of events is somewhat surprising since Butler has long been enamored with their lawyers. Remember that Butler brought in their lawyer to meet with my father last December. At that time he was told that they had proof I was “Soodo Nym” and they threatened to sue me if The True BU was not shut down because the president was so angry about the negative publicity he thought The True BU was generating.

Although their power tactic worked and they intimidated me into closing The True BU, I never believed that they would actually sue me for expressing my opinions in a blog – especially when those opinions were the same as those voiced by many faculty members in the School of Music, and especially when I (thought I) was living in a world in which universities simply don’t sue students. But the president was angry enough that he set his lawyer to work, and his lawyer found two colleagues in his firm who also wanted to generate some billable hours, and a lawsuit was crafted. That lawsuit was filed four days AFTER The True BU was removed from the web and it was filed over the signatures of three attorneys.

As I’ve said before, I heard nothing about this lawsuit for six months – not until my father complained to the university about disparaging and absolutely untrue comments made in public by the provost about him. Then the lawyers were trotted out again to threaten me with this same lawsuit. And they threatened and they threatened. They threatened me throughout the months of June, July and August. They threatened me for the first 26 days in September. And then, at 10:05 p.m. on Sunday, September 27^th, in an email, they stopped threatening and made a promise – they promised to substitute my name for that of “John Doe” in the lawsuit within the week. (“…we will proceed to substitute Jess Zimmerman for John Doe in the pending lawsuit. I anticipate that these actions will occur by the end of the week. Please let me know whether you will accept service for Jess Zimmerman.”)

Throughout the summer months of threatening, the university’s main lawyer repeatedly said that he had to check with the president before committing himself to any specific course of action. And that’s how it should be when a lawyer is working for a client.

Which brings me back to the president. How often has he said that he never intended to sue a student? How often has he said that he only filed the original lawsuit to find out who “Soodo Nym” was, something he said he already knew before the suit was filed? Why the threats to sue me if he never intended to sue me?

One implication to be drawn from these statements is that the lawyer was running the show – apparently against the wishes of the president and in such a way that the president was completely ignorant of his actions. I’ll leave the alternative implication for you to discern and simply say that it certainly isn’t flattering to the president.

And then, on October 27^th, exactly a month after I received the promise from the university’s attorney that my name would be added to the lawsuit, I learned from a Collegian reporter that the president explicitly stated that he had nothing to do with the promise. In the face of the national outcry over the outrageous lawsuit, the president decided to cut his losses and, metaphorically at least, kill his attorney. Shakespeare would be proud.

The attorney, however, like the president, doesn’t seem to want to take credit for the promise to put my name on the lawsuit. Take a look at what the attorney wrote to a Butler faculty member: “You accused me in our phone conversation of threatening a student with his/her substitution for John Doe in the lawsuit. I immediately reacted to this by telling you that was untrue….” This amazing disclaimer was preceded by a threat: “I repeat our caution to you that your concerns be voiced responsibly, especially before making such serious accusations against Butler and its attorneys.”

So, according to Butler’s president and to Butler’s primary attorney, no one is responsible for the email promising to substitute my name for “John Doe’s” and even mentioning such a thing makes one susceptible to Butler’s wrath.

These are the people running the show – and these are the people complaining about my blog, a blog since October 14^th I’ve taken credit for writing.

When are these people going to take responsibility for their actions?

Angelica Pickles meets Butler University

“Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

That’s the signature line from Love Story, the overly saccharine book by Erich Segal made into an equally tear jerker of a movie. Not everyone seems to agree with the sentiment of the line, however. In an episode of The Simpsons titled "Catch 'Em if You Can,” Lisa shouts, "No it doesn't!" when the line is spoken on the movie they’re all watching.

Similarly, in an ironic turn of events, Ryan O’Neal, one of the two characters in Love Story who actually uttered the line, has something to say about it in the film “What’s Up, Doc?” In that film, when Barbara Streisand’s character says the line, O’Neal’s character immediately responds by saying, “That's the dumbest thing I ever heard."

Saying you’re sorry can accomplish a lot of good things. When someone says that they’re sorry for something, it is often possible for the person hearing the apology to respond in kind – and meaningful relationships can be rebuilt.

The petition created by the Friends of Jess Zimmerman, and available on the right, has asked the Butler administration to say they’re sorry. Explicitly, the petition asks for two very simple apologies:

“an immediate apology for filing the BUTLER UNIVERSITY v. JOHN DOE a/k/a "Soodo Nym" a/k/a thetruebu@gmail.com lawuit;” and

“an immediate apology for the accusations made against Jess Zimmerman.”

The petition has now been signed by more than 900 people from all around the globe. (If you are so inclined, and if you haven’t already added your signature to the petition, please think about doing so.) These people are all looking for the Butler administration to step forward and acknowledge that the actions taken are worthy of an apology, and then to issue one.

It seems, however, that Butler has decided to model its behavior on a different popular culture icon. Angelica Pickles, a character from Rugrats, stated, “BEING BAD means never having to say you're sorry."

That demonstrates the high quality leadership of a major American university!

Lenin v. Roosevelt

Tonight, I want to compare the perspective of Vladimir Lenin to that of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. But first I need to set the stage.

For well over a month now, various Butler offices, from that of the president through those of various vice presidents to many in the public relations office, have been saying fairly incredible things about me and The True BU. Regularly, they say that the blog threatened the safety of the campus. They say that the blog intimidated senior administrators on campus. They have regularly talked negatively about an email they admit they have no evidence I wrote at the same time they talk of The True BU in an attempt to conflate the authorship of the two. They note that “Butler does not tolerate racial and sexual epithets in the name of free exchange of ideas,” while discussing The True BU, but never once have they pointed to any such slurs.

From what I’ve seen on campus, and frankly from what I’ve seen through many contacts off campus, most people have not actually read what I’ve written in The True BU. Many people, having heard or read the Butler message, say that what I’ve done was wrong. They say it isn’t right to threaten people or to intimidate people or to use racial and sexual slurs. Who could argue with that? Certainly not me. But I didn’t actually do any of those things – despite the message repeated loudly and often by Butler to the contrary.

Which brings me to Vladimir Lenin – or to a quotation that has regularly been attributed to him. (I have been unable to track down the actual source of the quotation so, despite the frequency with which the attribution has been made, I don’t actually know if he said it or not.) “A lie told often enough becomes the truth.”

The Butler administration seems to have wholeheartedly endorsed that sentiment. They present no evidence, but they keep repeating their statements. This is as cynical a way to influence public opinion as possible.

While I can’t stop their repetitions, I can embrace an alternative and far less cynical philosophy – one articulated by Franklin Delano Roosevelt in a radio address on October 26, 1939: “Repetition does not transform a lie into a truth.”

I know what the truth about The True BU is and no amount of repetition will change the truth into something else. I am also very pleased by the fact that when people actually have taken the time to read what I’ve written, they too have overwhelmingly come to the same conclusion as I have.

You’d think that those in charge of an institution of higher education would come down on Roosevelt’s side of the divide – or at least you’d hope that they would. After all, education is about knowledge, about reducing ignorance. Or, as Anatole France has said (in yet another quotation that I can’t verify beyond pointing to the fact that “everyone” says it’s real): “An education isn't how much you have committed to memory, or even how much you know. It's being able to differentiate between what you do know and what you don't.” Unfortunately, some at Butler seem to want you to confuse the two.

A "Measly" Student Blog

Since I’ve been gone, a few more newspapers from around the country have picked up this troubling story. I’ve linked to them on the right. Two of these new pieces comes from Minnesota State’s Reporter, which ran both a news story about this situation and an editorial criticizing the Butler administration’s actions with respect to The True BU. In their news story, the Reporter quotes a professor who teaches Mass Communications Law. Here’s that part of the story.

“Ellen Mrja, an associate professor in the mass communications department at Minnesota State, does not agree with Butler's actions in the matter.

"’This was over-reaction on the part of the administrators that makes them look weak, not strong,’ Mrja said. Mrja teaches a class in Mass Communications Law. ‘You can not stop someone from speaking their truth.’"

Unfortunately, I feel that I must disagree with Professor Mrja just a drop. In fact, Butler did stop me “from speaking the truth,” at least for a while. After being threatened and intimidated by Butler’s attorneys I closed The True BU and removed it from the internet. But, from the bigger perspective, the professor is absolutely correct. Because of Butler’s heavy handed administrative actions, many, many more people have now read The True BU than had ever before and people all over the world are now upset about how Butler deals with free speech.

As Barry Lynn, Executive Director of Americans United for Separation of Church and State and host of the nationally syndicated talk show Culture Shocks, said on the air with me, “how many people outside of the Butler community even saw this blog? But for Butler University’s filing of a lawsuit, this would have been a footnote to history, the history of a university many people know nothing about.”

Let me go back to the editorial at Minnesota State University since it does such a good job of explaining why Butler’s actions are important – and dangerous. Here are parts of the long editorial:

“The lawsuit against Jess Zimmerman of Butler University could happen anywhere. Clearly an attempt to censor online speech, it could have also impact students' rights to speak freely everywhere.”

“The blog barely got any hits initially; it wasn't until Butler administrators spoke against it that more people were popping on the site to check out the controversy. So the school actually drew more attention to the criticism by attacking it.”

“They are trying to silence this blogger's voice and the message it sends seriously threatens free speech. Zimmerman could face major repercussions on-campus for speaking his mind, a problematic blow to the freedoms U.S. citizens have been granted.”

“The student was simply being critical of the ethics and morality of a situation. His opinion didn't defame the university; it called out university officials on alleged wrongdoing, a shining example of the importance and need for the First Amendment.”

“Butler's efforts to chill free speech online - the communication hub of the world - are the real problems facing their university.”

“It seems that while Butler attempted to contain its opposition using Zimmerman as an example, it tampered its image on a national level, much more damage than a measly student blog could create.”

Even though they characterize The True BU as “a measly student blog,” I couldn’t agree more.

I find it fascinating that students and faculty members from around the country have consistently come to a conclusion so much at odds with the extreme position the Butler administration has taken. You’d think that that should give Butler’s administration something to think about.

I'm Back

I apologize for taking such a long break. I just needed a little bit away from everything and, luckily, I got it over the last week. While I did spend my time off of campus playing golf and eating turkey, I certainly did not forget about what the Butler administration is trying to do. And I promise, especially to those of you who Emailed me over the last two weeks, that I will not forget and that I will continue to fight. Together, we can make a difference.

I hope that you, if you haven’t already, will sign the petition and continue to spread this story to your friends and colleagues. As I’ve said, and as organizations like Reporters Without Borders have said, what Butler’s administration is doing can set a dangerous and frightening precedent in higher education.

I hope my break didn’t alienate too many of you!