Compromising memory

This April, a sudden slew of Spectator articles and an editorial have examined the Business School’s conflict of interest policies in light of the documentary “Inside Job.” The tide seems to have turned against administrators featured in the film, from Dean R. Glenn Hubbard to Professor Frederic Mishkin, for ethical violations. According to the film, these professional economists, among others, sold their academic reputations to enrich those companies responsible for the 2008 financial crisis. If the allegations from “Inside Job” are true, Columbia academics played a significant role in the crisis. Not only that, but the Business School harbors serious conflicts of interest, which begs the question: How can we expect professors to inculcate business ethics in their students when they themselves violate the rules?

It would be difficult for anyone to watch the film “Inside Job” and not agree that an investigation needs to be made into academic conflict of interest policies. Spectator made just this point in its excellent editorial last week, “For full disclosure” (April 20, 2011). But here is my concern: Why have students waited until April to address the consequences of “Inside Job” when the film was released in October? Why has our reaction been delayed by seven months?

Since I was also a columnist last semester, I am as guilty as the rest. Plus I saw the film “Inside Job” in November around Thanksgiving break. At the time, it angered me that Columbia faculty might have contributed significantly to the financial meltdown that so deeply affected many of our families and futures. Somehow, however, I experienced an utter failure of imagination: I did not think to write about it. For one thing, our generation is barraged with polemic films such as Michael Moore’s “Fahrenheit 9/11.” As a result, we are programmed to dismiss conspiracy theories as improbable conclusions reached by radicals.

I do not believe that fully explains our delayed reaction. After all, only a month after the film came out, the New York Times reported that it was a topic of heated discussion at the American Economic Association (AEA). Since then, the AEA has considered adopting a more formal ethical code. Professor David H. Autor, who teaches economics at MIT, was quoted in the article saying, “You could call this the ‘Inside Job’ effect.” Professors, other newspapers, and the industry in question were quicker to respond than the students who should be acting as the whistle-blowers, the vanguard of their institution’s integrity. Of course, the concern also lingers: Why should Columbia need an outside documentary to point out its ethical failures?

Embedded in the Spectator news article about the film—published April 15— is a quote from University Senator Liya Yu that offers a frightening answer to our question about the delayed student reaction. “I think people in the Business School haven’t responded because they are afraid,” Yu was quoted saying. “If you are the dean of a school, obviously all the students are going to be dependent on you for their careers and futures. It’s hard for them to do anything.” I think this explanation extends to students beyond those currently enrolled in the Business School. In fact, its implications pose a threat to student journalism as a whole. For the first time in history, everything that a student journalist writes during his or her time in college is published on the Internet. This is a good thing for many reasons: It increases readership, allows writers to cross-reference easily, etc. But it also creates a permanent, compromising memory that is available forever to anyone who seeks it.

From the moment the college application process began, we were told that the content of our Facebook profiles could be used against us in admissions. We have learned to censor our traceable online behavior so as not to compromise our professional or educational prospects. Unfortunately, this has led to journalistic over-caution. We fear that anything we say now will be used against us later. And maybe it’s true. After all, not enough time has passed for us to take a careful account of the degree to which students’ first publications can affect their futures. Even editors have advised me to mitigate the strongest claims in my columns for fear of consequences to come. Perhaps they are right. But the most insidious kind of censorship—the hardest to recognize, the hardest to combat—is self-censorship, the persistent imaginative failure that prevents us from even recognizing what we should be writing about.

In the Internet age, bravery in student journalism is not trailing a military unit on the Iraqi front lines. Rather, it is the willingness to address controversial issues as they surface, not once these points of view have become popular. Our brand of fear—which is frankly selfish—censors our thoughts almost unnoticed. Next time, let’s skip the delayed reaction. I for one hope to do better.

Amanda Gutterman is a Columbia College sophomore majoring in English. The Far Side of the Familiar runs alternate Wednesdays.