Scholar.google.com: Damn clever. Scholars are increasingly prone to googling subjects before going to library catalogs, World-CAT, or the MLA Bibliography. Google is just faster, simpler, and more up-to-date than slow, CD-ROM based databases that require log-ins and proxy servers. If you can find a book on a topic you're looking for through Google, why go to the library website?
Of course, that short-cut often creates a problem, which is that you get a lot of personal websites when what you really want to know is: who's published something serious on this? As much as I enjoy doing this blog and am pro-blogging in general, sometimes you want books, not blogs. Scholar.google fixes that problem, and cuts out anything that isn't a journal or a book pub.
Also: one neat thing about scholar.google is, it gives you links to the people who cited each entry.
I tried Secularism: see the 3000 hits? That's why my book is taking so long to finish. I'm happy to say I've read most of the books on the first page, though. Interesting how many of the top hits relate to Turkey and India!
"Just remember that your real job is that if you are free, you need to free somebody else. If you have some power, then your job is to empower somebody else." --Toni Morrison
Documentary on James Baldwin, writing and living in Turkey
I went to see a documentary on James Baldwin by Sedat Pekay today. It's called From Another Place, and it's essentially an interview with Baldwin as he hangs around his room, smokes cigarettes, and walks around Istanbul in 1973.
It's kind of hypnotizing. According to Baldwin scholar Magdalena Zaborowska, Baldwin spent quite a bit of time in Turkey in the 1960s and early 1970s. His time in Paris I knew about, but Turkey? What was he doing there? According to Zaborowska (drawing on David Leeming's biography, I think), it was mainly a refuge where he could write.
Baldwin was actually the subject of three documentaries, and though he tried to make films himself on occasion, they always fell through:
I'm curious to see these other documentaries too.
It's kind of hypnotizing. According to Baldwin scholar Magdalena Zaborowska, Baldwin spent quite a bit of time in Turkey in the 1960s and early 1970s. His time in Paris I knew about, but Turkey? What was he doing there? According to Zaborowska (drawing on David Leeming's biography, I think), it was mainly a refuge where he could write.
In his third, best-selling novel, Another Country (1962), Baldwin explored some of the lasting effects of slavery on the national psyche through interracial romantic entanglements. As his intensely social and political life made writing difficult, he finished Another Country in Istanbul, Turkey, visiting actors Engin Cezzar and Gülriz Sururi. Located at the crossroads of Asia and Europe, Istanbul became Baldwin’s writing haven for about eight years. He directed plays there and tried screenwriting with Cezzar. Turkey is not much referenced in his writings, perhaps because he never learned the language or connected with its culture.
Baldwin was actually the subject of three documentaries, and though he tried to make films himself on occasion, they always fell through:
In the fall of 1981, Baldwin and David [Leeming] spent two happy months with Engin and Gülriz in southern Turkey, working on a screenplay. Like several others, this attempt at making movies failed. Baldwin fared better as a cinematic subject: from a powerful short by a Turkish director, Sedat Pakay, James Baldwin: From Another Place (1973), through an English documentary on the trip to the South by Dick Fontaine and Pat Hartley, I Heard it through the Grapevine (1982), to Karen Thorsen’s The Price of the Ticket (1990). In 1982, he took several trips to Atlanta to research a case of children’s murders for an article that later became a book, The Evidence of Things Not Seen (1985).
I'm curious to see these other documentaries too.
Zakaria on Fallujah
Welcome to ZakariaWatch, the official Fareed Zakaria stalker blog.
The latest -- a meditation on the likelihood of success in Fallujah, and a consideration of the possible outcomes. This is more a news summary than an opinion piece; helpful bits of information on what has actually happened in the battle thus far. Zakaria's argument is, if things go well as a result of the offensive, things look good for elections, for Allawi, and for the overall success of the U.S. operation there.
If things go poorly, then elections probably won't happen on time, confidence in Allawi will erode, everything goes to hell. Or better: stays there.
My question is, on what basis should one claim the operation to be 'successful'? If many of the fighters, and certainly all of the insurgent leaders, left the city before the re-invasion, what can the U.S. hope to gain? I suppose it is pessimism, but I think Fallujah will change very little in the dynamics of the ground war. The fighters will vanish -- as they did at the time of the initial invasion -- only to resurface again somewhere else. Meanwhile, the battle has been very costly to the U.S., both in terms of U.S. soldiers killed (about 40), and a pretty vast number injured (about 400).
The latest -- a meditation on the likelihood of success in Fallujah, and a consideration of the possible outcomes. This is more a news summary than an opinion piece; helpful bits of information on what has actually happened in the battle thus far. Zakaria's argument is, if things go well as a result of the offensive, things look good for elections, for Allawi, and for the overall success of the U.S. operation there.
If things go poorly, then elections probably won't happen on time, confidence in Allawi will erode, everything goes to hell. Or better: stays there.
My question is, on what basis should one claim the operation to be 'successful'? If many of the fighters, and certainly all of the insurgent leaders, left the city before the re-invasion, what can the U.S. hope to gain? I suppose it is pessimism, but I think Fallujah will change very little in the dynamics of the ground war. The fighters will vanish -- as they did at the time of the initial invasion -- only to resurface again somewhere else. Meanwhile, the battle has been very costly to the U.S., both in terms of U.S. soldiers killed (about 40), and a pretty vast number injured (about 400).
Another South Asian Literary Festival
I got email from someone involved with South Asian Literature and Theater Festival; people in or near the DC area this coming weekend might be interested in attending. The full agenda for the conference can be found here. Some up-and-coming desi academics are involved, including Karni Bhati and Lalitha Gopalan. It looks like they've eschewed glamorous appearances in favor of interesting little discussions. Good: it makes for a more lively conference.
"Please join us for the 2004 South Asian Literary and Theatre Arts Festival (SALTAF) entitled Scripts, Stories, and Syllables of South Asia, on November 20-21, 2004 at the Baird Auditorium, National Museum of Natural History at the Smithsonian Institution from 10am-5pm. This event is sponsored by the Network of South Asian Professionals of Washington DC (NetSAP-DC) and the Smithsonian Asian Pacific American Program.
"This two day event will include literary panel discussions, author readings and book signings by renowned authors such as Bharati Mukherjee, Ved Mehta, Anita Rau Badami, Indu Sundaresan, Samina Ali, T.S Tirumurti, Siddharth Dhanvant Shanghvi, Neela Vaswani, Tim Ward, and Vijay Lakshmi, as well as a slide show with Robert Arnett and Smita Turakhia featuring India Unveiled, the highly-acclaimed travelogue illustrated with award-winning photography. The festival will also include four one-act plays; an award-winning South Asian feature length film, Bhavum, written and directed by Satish Menon, as well as a short film by Rohit Rao followed by a media arts panel discussion with Geeta Citygirl and the filmmakers. This artistic extravaganza is free and open to the public.
For complete agenda and further information please visit www.netsap.org/saltaf2004 or email saltaf@netsap.org.
Wikipedia grumbling, Shirin Ebadi, Immolations, and other pleasantries
1. Robert McHenry at Tech Central Station complains about Wikipedia. He is, one should note, the editor of The Encyclopedia Britannica, so he is perhaps a little biased against this completely free institution which will certainly cut into EB's bottom line.
Most of the article is fluff. His point is, how can we trust random people to actually produce something of quality? When he finally gets serious, his only example is the Wikipedia post on Alexander Hamilton, which, he finds, has actually been edited into mediocrity.
It's true, nothing on Wikipedia can be considered definitive knowledge. Everything will have to be verified. Specialists (and any students of mine reading this) should know that whatever you find there should probably be double-checked. But it's quickly becoming an information phenomenon -- especially now that Google searches where a specific piece of information is required (say, the basic rules of golf, or a biography of T.S. Eliot) now produce mainly commercial websites like the useless About.com or cliff notes-type services where you have to pay $5 to get information that should really be free.
The Onion also lodges a complaint about a Wikipedia entry, though the topic is not Alexander Hamilton, but Weird Al Yankovic.
2. So much for freedom of speech. Nobel laureate Shirin Ebadi has filed suit against the U.S. treasury department because of restrictions on printed materials originating from embargoed countries like Iran and Cuba. Ebadi wants to write and publish a book explaining some of the positive things about the current theocracy in Iran -- directed specifically to American readers. But under current U.S. law, she can't do it.
She has an Op-Ed in the New York Times that explains it in a little more detail.
3. It turns out the guy who immolated himself in front of the White House wasn't protesting the war in Iraq after all. He was an informant working for the FBI, who says he was stiffed. They promised him a green card which he didn't get. He says he wanted to go back to Yemen to visit his sick wife, but wasn't able to do so.
4. U.S. Marine kills unarmed Iraqi prisoner in Fallujah mosque for no apparent reason. Reuters. Also, one can apparently see video footage via BoingBoing, though I haven't tried to download it yet.
5. The Hindi film Veer-Zaara earned nearly $1 million at the U.S. box office this weekend. Nice one. And that's just the money the film earned legally!
Other things that should be banned in Texas
Via Crooked Timber, I read this post on Pharyngula about what's happening on the Texas Board of Education. In addition to evolution, they are trying to ban references to overpopulation, global warming, pollution, and the phrase "marriage partners," because it might suggest gay marriage.
Forget Canada. At this rate, even Pakistan, with its ban on food on weddings, and its infamous Hudood Ordinance, is beginning to seem better.
But I still think the goals of the Terri Leo et al. are a little too small. They should also ban:
1. Reference to clouds or cloudiness, because they suggest that Jesus doesn't love us completely unambiguously.
2. The color red, except as a stamp to be sewn onto the garments of adulterers.
3. Any herbs that could potentially be used in support of witchcraft.
4. Helmets, because God made our heads unprotected, and that's how they should stay.
5. The future, because Armageddon is right around the corner.
6. The past, because there was a time when teachers in Texas actually said the word "pollution" in a science class, and this was a dark time that should be erased.
6. Any literature other than the King James Bible and Tim Lehaye's Left Behind series, which is just as good as the Bible.
7. Desperate Housewives, because, though they haven't watched it, the title of the show suggests that heterosexual marriages may not always be cauldrons of divine bliss. (Oh wait, Sinclair has already banned it.)
8. Human Nudity, even in private. Even the thought of it is just too dang tempting.
9. The Da Vinci Code, because a) Leonardo Da Vinci was a likely homosexual, and b) books written about paintings by people who were homosexuals shouldn't sell more copies than the Bible.
Feel free to add others. I will be sending a comprehensive list to Terri Leo of my demands shortly.
Forget Canada. At this rate, even Pakistan, with its ban on food on weddings, and its infamous Hudood Ordinance, is beginning to seem better.
But I still think the goals of the Terri Leo et al. are a little too small. They should also ban:
1. Reference to clouds or cloudiness, because they suggest that Jesus doesn't love us completely unambiguously.
2. The color red, except as a stamp to be sewn onto the garments of adulterers.
3. Any herbs that could potentially be used in support of witchcraft.
4. Helmets, because God made our heads unprotected, and that's how they should stay.
5. The future, because Armageddon is right around the corner.
6. The past, because there was a time when teachers in Texas actually said the word "pollution" in a science class, and this was a dark time that should be erased.
6. Any literature other than the King James Bible and Tim Lehaye's Left Behind series, which is just as good as the Bible.
7. Desperate Housewives, because, though they haven't watched it, the title of the show suggests that heterosexual marriages may not always be cauldrons of divine bliss. (Oh wait, Sinclair has already banned it.)
8. Human Nudity, even in private. Even the thought of it is just too dang tempting.
9. The Da Vinci Code, because a) Leonardo Da Vinci was a likely homosexual, and b) books written about paintings by people who were homosexuals shouldn't sell more copies than the Bible.
Feel free to add others. I will be sending a comprehensive list to Terri Leo of my demands shortly.
Happy Belated Diwali
Happy belated Diwali, folks.
I like this holiday mainly for the sweets. I'm also more or less happy that the God Rama managed to slay the demon Ravana, but the whole rescuing-of-Sita thing seems a little sexist, doesn't it? It's not my favorite Hindu myth. I prefer the Mahabharata, which is populated primarily by human beings fighting wars, over the Ramayana, which is full of Gods, and seems to be obsessed with female chastity.
I'm also not big on firecrackers everywhere; lots of kids get hurt every year because of them. The American model -- for July 4th -- is perhaps excessively puritanical (many states ban firecrackers entirely), but at least you don't hear stories about kids who lose an eye or a finger anymore.
Our celebration of Diwali entailed: 1) eating sweets, naturally (so far: jalebi, chocolate burfi, laddoos), 2) going dancing in New York on Friday night (nothing like Puerto Rican Reggaeton to start off the Indian New Year), and 3) a small party on Saturday in New Haven.
And did I mention sweets?
I like this holiday mainly for the sweets. I'm also more or less happy that the God Rama managed to slay the demon Ravana, but the whole rescuing-of-Sita thing seems a little sexist, doesn't it? It's not my favorite Hindu myth. I prefer the Mahabharata, which is populated primarily by human beings fighting wars, over the Ramayana, which is full of Gods, and seems to be obsessed with female chastity.
I'm also not big on firecrackers everywhere; lots of kids get hurt every year because of them. The American model -- for July 4th -- is perhaps excessively puritanical (many states ban firecrackers entirely), but at least you don't hear stories about kids who lose an eye or a finger anymore.
Our celebration of Diwali entailed: 1) eating sweets, naturally (so far: jalebi, chocolate burfi, laddoos), 2) going dancing in New York on Friday night (nothing like Puerto Rican Reggaeton to start off the Indian New Year), and 3) a small party on Saturday in New Haven.
And did I mention sweets?
A.S. Byatt's The Game
One of my students is writing an honors' thesis on the novels of A.S. Byatt. It's been a good opportunity for me to catch up on some of the Byatt novels I hadn't read (though I still have a couple of major ones left to attempt). This weekend I read an early (1967) novel of hers called The Game.
For those who haven't read any Byatt, you should probably start with Possession. It's entertaining and exceptionally well-imagined fiction, though far from easy. All of Byatt's novels require a certain amount of persistence -- a curiosity about the imaginative worlds occupied by writers and artists from earlier historical eras, and a tolerance for the lives and loves of the academics who study them from the mid/late 20th century. It's unfortunate that fans of candy-coated fare like The Da Vinci Code might not recognize it's kinship (as historical fiction) to Byatt's 500-page novels about English professors who have somewhat icy romances while researching the secret passions of fictional Victorians. The worried might, then, do better with Byatt's short stories and fairy tales; I would recommend The Matisse Stories or The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye as places to start.
The Game is the most psychologically complex Byatt novel I've read. It is about two sisters who as children have a kind of medieval fantasy game they play with one another -- a private imaginative universe not so different from the girls in the film Heavenly Creatures, minus the racy references to lesbianism and homicide. The sisters have a falling out over a man named Simon, whom they construct as a kind of mythological hero. One sister, Julia, 'wins' him, but the other, Cassandra, loves him. They grow up disparately: Julia becomes a mother and a successful 'mid-list' writer of modern domestic dramas. Cassandra becomes bitter, a medievalist at Oxford, withdrawn into a rarefied existence.
They are estranged, but remain deeply imaginatively dependent upon each other (and Simon, who becomes a world-traveling herpetologist). The intellectual sisters are mirror reflections of each other's creativity; each performs an essential -- but slightly different -- role in the constitution of the other's existence and survival. I won't say much about what happens as the novel progresses, except this philosophical statement: imaginative intimacy always requires vulnerability, and permanent damage is possible when it's betrayed.
The fantastic world of the sisters in many ways resembles that of the Bronte sisters in the 19th century, Charlotte and Emily. Byatt suggests this with her epigram from an 1835 poem by Charlotte Bronte ("We wove a web in childhood/ A web of sunny air; We dug a spring in infancy/ Of water pure and fair"). But it also resembles (I don't know how much) the real-life rivalry between Byatt and her half-sister, the writer Margaret Drabble. Interestingly, Drabble published a novel about a relationship between two sisters (A Summer Birdcage) just three years before The Game was published. A set-piece? Perhaps, for the adventurous reader.
For those who haven't read any Byatt, you should probably start with Possession. It's entertaining and exceptionally well-imagined fiction, though far from easy. All of Byatt's novels require a certain amount of persistence -- a curiosity about the imaginative worlds occupied by writers and artists from earlier historical eras, and a tolerance for the lives and loves of the academics who study them from the mid/late 20th century. It's unfortunate that fans of candy-coated fare like The Da Vinci Code might not recognize it's kinship (as historical fiction) to Byatt's 500-page novels about English professors who have somewhat icy romances while researching the secret passions of fictional Victorians. The worried might, then, do better with Byatt's short stories and fairy tales; I would recommend The Matisse Stories or The Djinn in the Nightingale's Eye as places to start.
The Game is the most psychologically complex Byatt novel I've read. It is about two sisters who as children have a kind of medieval fantasy game they play with one another -- a private imaginative universe not so different from the girls in the film Heavenly Creatures, minus the racy references to lesbianism and homicide. The sisters have a falling out over a man named Simon, whom they construct as a kind of mythological hero. One sister, Julia, 'wins' him, but the other, Cassandra, loves him. They grow up disparately: Julia becomes a mother and a successful 'mid-list' writer of modern domestic dramas. Cassandra becomes bitter, a medievalist at Oxford, withdrawn into a rarefied existence.
They are estranged, but remain deeply imaginatively dependent upon each other (and Simon, who becomes a world-traveling herpetologist). The intellectual sisters are mirror reflections of each other's creativity; each performs an essential -- but slightly different -- role in the constitution of the other's existence and survival. I won't say much about what happens as the novel progresses, except this philosophical statement: imaginative intimacy always requires vulnerability, and permanent damage is possible when it's betrayed.
The fantastic world of the sisters in many ways resembles that of the Bronte sisters in the 19th century, Charlotte and Emily. Byatt suggests this with her epigram from an 1835 poem by Charlotte Bronte ("We wove a web in childhood/ A web of sunny air; We dug a spring in infancy/ Of water pure and fair"). But it also resembles (I don't know how much) the real-life rivalry between Byatt and her half-sister, the writer Margaret Drabble. Interestingly, Drabble published a novel about a relationship between two sisters (A Summer Birdcage) just three years before The Game was published. A set-piece? Perhaps, for the adventurous reader.
The Seven Basic Plots ...?
In the Telegraph
I have three objections to even this rather modest review. One is the invocation of God as a reference point in secular storytelling; I don't think religion has anything to do with most stories, including medieval folk tales and fairy tales. Another "danger" flag for me is the reference to Carl Jung, whose wild speculations always revive in me the desire for concrete, provable assertions. And finally, any theory of narrative that stops before the 19th century is bound to be painfully limited. Maybe it's too much to ask for any straightforward explanation of Thackeray's ironies or George Eliot's philosophizing. But what about Dickens?
Still, the title (The Seven Basic Plots) and the dream behind this book is attractive to me. One wants there to be a simple explanation for narrative structure, a general Key to All Storytelling. Unfortunately, there isn't one, and attempts to prove there is usually end up being a bit Quixotic (and I use that word advisedly).
I have three objections to even this rather modest review. One is the invocation of God as a reference point in secular storytelling; I don't think religion has anything to do with most stories, including medieval folk tales and fairy tales. Another "danger" flag for me is the reference to Carl Jung, whose wild speculations always revive in me the desire for concrete, provable assertions. And finally, any theory of narrative that stops before the 19th century is bound to be painfully limited. Maybe it's too much to ask for any straightforward explanation of Thackeray's ironies or George Eliot's philosophizing. But what about Dickens?
Still, the title (The Seven Basic Plots) and the dream behind this book is attractive to me. One wants there to be a simple explanation for narrative structure, a general Key to All Storytelling. Unfortunately, there isn't one, and attempts to prove there is usually end up being a bit Quixotic (and I use that word advisedly).
Suketu Mehta on Bollywood tedium
It's a pretty entertaining article. The only notable scandal is Mehta's claim that most Bollywood movies are originally written in English before they are translated into Hindustani (Hindi + Urdu).
Otherwise, it's not too too exciting. He's most convincing -- and, I think, correct -- when he talks about the deep passion for the music that many Indians have. But you don't need to go to Bombay to find that out.
Kerim, who knows Suketu Mehta, has some good comments on it. Thanks also to Sachin for the tip.
Incidentally, Mehta's book on Bombay, Maximum City, has been discussed at Another Subcontinent on occasion.
Otherwise, it's not too too exciting. He's most convincing -- and, I think, correct -- when he talks about the deep passion for the music that many Indians have. But you don't need to go to Bombay to find that out.
Kerim, who knows Suketu Mehta, has some good comments on it. Thanks also to Sachin for the tip.
Incidentally, Mehta's book on Bombay, Maximum City, has been discussed at Another Subcontinent on occasion.
A bad law spreads to Bavaria
BBC: Hijab bans now in several German states. Not terribly excited about this from a secularism point of view (excessive restriction of the right to religious expression goes against my concept of secularism).
One interesting facet here is that the law passed in Bavaian Parliament on pressure from the Culture Minister, Monika Hohlmeier. To what extent have German women's rights groups been involved in the production of these bans in Germany? In France, women's rights were cited, but far and away, the legislators responsible for implementing the ban were men not particularly known for an investment in feminism.
It's also worth considering that Germany's federal Constitutional Court has ruled the Hijab legal nationally, but given states the right to ban it anyway. I wonder if that split will open the door to further legal challenges from the Muslim community?
One interesting facet here is that the law passed in Bavaian Parliament on pressure from the Culture Minister, Monika Hohlmeier. To what extent have German women's rights groups been involved in the production of these bans in Germany? In France, women's rights were cited, but far and away, the legislators responsible for implementing the ban were men not particularly known for an investment in feminism.
It's also worth considering that Germany's federal Constitutional Court has ruled the Hijab legal nationally, but given states the right to ban it anyway. I wonder if that split will open the door to further legal challenges from the Muslim community?
Punjab Police to Pay Families of the Disappeared
BBC: Punjab police are going to be paying Rs. 250,000 ($5500 USD) to 109 families of people who were killed in police custody during the 1980s and early 1990s. The payments are being ordered by the National Human Rights Commission.
Last I heard, there were 2500 people who were cremated in this way. Are they all going to get paid?
Last I heard, there were 2500 people who were cremated in this way. Are they all going to get paid?
Remembering Iris Chang
I know that today's big news is Arafat's death, but I wanted to take a quick moment to remember historian Iris Chang, who died yesterday. Chang is best-known for her 1997 book The Rape of Nanking which told the story of the 300,000 people who were tortured, raped, and murdered when the Japanese took Nanking (also spelled: Nanjing). A quick look around the web suggests that her claims about Japanese atrocities at Nanking are controversial, though many of the anti-Chang websites I visited were of questionable credibility. This site, in contrast, is more balanced, and has a useful bibliography, and external links.
Chang was young, and her writing was very promising. But she was also, the death-notices point out, deeply depressed.
Chang was young, and her writing was very promising. But she was also, the death-notices point out, deeply depressed.
n 1997, Chang published the bestselling "The Rape of Nan-king," which described the rape, torture and killing of hundreds of thousands of Chinese civilians by Japanese soldiers during the 1930s. "The Chinese in America," published last year, is a history of Chinese immigrants and their descendants in the United States.
Chang suffered a breakdown during researching for her fourth book about U.S. soldiers who fought the Japanese in the Philippines during World War II.
Chang continued to suffer from depression after she was released from the hospital. In a note to her family, she asked to be remembered as the person she was before she became ill - "engaged with life, committed to her causes, her writing and her family."
Another reason not to visit Belfast
Racist attacks against immigrants. The comments on Slugger O'Toole are worth checking out.
Are Academics Guilty of Groupthink?
Sometimes they are, but I think this was always the case in one way or another. Original thought has always been the province of a lonely few, irrespective of politics. "Groupthink" sounds like an evil, Orwellian hell, but actually it is the norm for many, many people in all kinds of professional pursuits.
It takes real intellectual discipline to avoid falling into the trap of familiar, generally accepted patterns of thought. One problem in today's humanities universe is undoubtedly comfortable multiculturalism; in an earlier era, problems were comfortable canon-worship, or comfortable scholasticism. I think there is more diversity of opinion (and specifically, more political and cultural conservatism) in academia than most people think. But I also think the overall intellectual climate -- the openness of thought, the willingness to engage with people who hold differing opinions -- could be a lot better than it is.
Still, Mark Bauerlein thinks it's a serious problem, and makes the case in an essay in The Chronicle. Erin O'Connor agrees with him.
I posted a comment on her site disagreeing on tone, not so much on substance.
It takes real intellectual discipline to avoid falling into the trap of familiar, generally accepted patterns of thought. One problem in today's humanities universe is undoubtedly comfortable multiculturalism; in an earlier era, problems were comfortable canon-worship, or comfortable scholasticism. I think there is more diversity of opinion (and specifically, more political and cultural conservatism) in academia than most people think. But I also think the overall intellectual climate -- the openness of thought, the willingness to engage with people who hold differing opinions -- could be a lot better than it is.
Still, Mark Bauerlein thinks it's a serious problem, and makes the case in an essay in The Chronicle. Erin O'Connor agrees with him.
I posted a comment on her site disagreeing on tone, not so much on substance.
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