It’s no coincidence, it seems to me, that the decline of liberal democracy, as a fact and value, has succeeded the decline of liberal education as a fact and value. If we are ever to revive the first, an essential step will be to resurrect the second. The two “liberals,” after all, are the same. They refer to political liberty, as understood by ancient Athens, republican Rome, the American Founders: not libertarian freedom from individual constraint but collective self-government by civic equals. Its opposite is tyranny, arbitrary rule by a single will, a dispensation we’re becoming more familiar with than we had ever thought we’d be.
Liberal education is that form of education that prepares individuals for the exercise of political liberty—in other words, for citizenship. (Its opposite, in Aristotle’s account, is servile education, that which aims at mere utility, the performance of an economic function.) For generations, its importance was a governing idea in American higher education. In 1945, to pick a single milestone, Harvard published what became a widely influential volume, General Education in a Free Society (known from its color as the Redbook)—a pedagogical program, as the war neared its end, for the emerging era of mass political participation. “A republic, if you can keep it,” said Benjamin Franklin, and liberal education, which the Founders also championed, is part of how you keep it.
But citizenship, too, is a concept in long-term decline (along with republic, for that matter). On campus, as a goal of education, it has given way to mere utility, salaried servility, veiled, at selective schools, beneath the drapery of “social justice,” the language of changing the world, which bids young people be not citizens but activists.