Academic freedom is–and has long been–one of the most contested terms in academia. Nearly a century ago, when professors with the wrong politics were regularly fired by trustees who failed to grasp the importance of free inquiry, professors formed the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) to define and explain academic freedom to themselves and to the public. The AAUP published a Declaration of Principles in 1915 that laid out the philosophy of academic freedom, and made it very clear that academic freedom is something of a misnomer–the term describes not the unfettered rights of academics, but a complex system of reciprocal rights and responsibilities. The rights must be earned by responsible behavior–and will be lost if professors don’t live up to their obligations.

The Declaration devoted considerable space to teaching, carefully parsing what academic freedom in the classroom is–and what it is not:

Since there are no rights without corresponding duties, the considerations heretofore set down with respect to the freedom of the academic teacher entail certain correlative obligations. The claim to freedom of teaching is made in the interest of the integrity and of the progress of scientific inquiry; it is, therefore, only those who carry on their work in the temper of the scientific inquirer who may justly assert this claim. The liberty of the scholar within the university to set forth his conclusions, be they what they may, is conditioned by their being conclusions gained by a scholar’s method and held in a scholar’s spirit; that is to say, they must be the fruits of competent and patient and sincere inquiry, and they should be set forth with dignity, courtesy, and temperateness of language. The university teacher, in giving instruction upon controversial matters, while he is under no obligation to hide his own opinion under a mountain of equivocal verbiage, should, if he is fit for his position, be a person of a fair and judicial mind; he should, in dealing with such subjects, set forth justly, without suppression or innuendo, the divergent opinions of other investigators; he should cause his students to become familiar with the best published expressions of the great historic types of doctrine upon the questions at issue; and he should, above all, remember that his business is not to provide his students with ready-made conclusions, but to train them to think for themselves, and to provide them access to those materials which they need if they are to think intelligently.

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There is one case in which the academic teacher is under an obligation to observe certain special restraints—namely, the instruction of immature students. In many of our American colleges, and especially in the first two years of the course, the student’s character is not yet fully formed, his mind is still relatively immature. In these circumstances it may reasonably be expected that the instructor will present scientific truth with discretion, that he will introduce the student to new conceptions gradually, with some consideration for the student’s preconceptions and traditions, and with due regard to character-building. The teacher ought also to be especially on his guard against taking unfair advantage of the student’s immaturity by indoctrinating him with the teacher’s own opinions before the student has had an opportunity fairly to examine other opinions upon the matters in question, and before he has sufficient knowledge and ripeness of judgment to be entitled to formany definitive opinion of his own. It is not the least service which a college or university may render to those under its instruction, to habituate them to looking not only patiently but methodically on both sides, before adopting any conclusion upon controverted issues. By these suggestions, however, it need scarcely be said that the committee does not intend to imply that it is not the duty of an academic instructor to give to any students old enough to be in college a genuine intellectual awakening and to arouse in them a keen desire to reach personally verified conclusions upon all questions of general concernment to mankind, or of special significance for their own time.

That’s a remarkably prescient–or timeless–statement. It goes right to the heart of debates we’re having now about whether, and on what terms, professors may bring politics into the classroom. It’s pretty uncompromising on that point. And perhaps that’s why some are finding it convenient to actively rewrite this seminal language.

Consider Penn State. Here’s Penn State’s 1987 policy on academic freedom in “instructional roles“:

It is not the function of a faculty member in a democracy to indoctrinate his/her students with ready-made conclusions on controversial subjects. The faculty member is expected to train students to think for themselves, and to provide them access to those materials which they need if they are to think intelligently. Hence, in giving instruction upon controversial matters the faculty member is expected be of a fair and judicial mind, and to set forth justly, without supersession or innuendo, the divergent opinions of other investigators.

No faculty member may claim as a right the privilege of discussing in the classroom controversial topics outside his/her own field of study. The faculty member is normally bound not to take advantage of his/her position by introducing into the classroom provocative discussions of irrelevant subjects not within the field of his/her study.

Sound familiar? Recognize the language from the 1915 Statement? Of course you do. It was good language, and it stood up to the test of time.

Or it used to.

Penn State just revised (gutted) this policy. Here’s the proposed new language:

Faculty members are expected to educate students to think for themselves, and to facilitate access to relevant materials which they need to form their own opinions. Faculty members are expected to present information fairly, and to set forth justly divergent opinions that arise out of scholarly methodology and professionalism.

See what’s still there from the 1915 Statement and 1987 policy. And notice what’s not. Gone are the prohibitions against indoctrination. Gone too are the admonitions to professors to stick to their areas of expertise and stay on topic. In their place is an endorsement of a weak-kneed relativism that elevates the formation of opinion (which cannot be well informed now that professors are free to ramble around on any subject they wish) to the level of scholarly inquiry.

Worth noting: AAUP president Cary Nelson endorses the new language. “Penn State had one of the most restrictive and troubling policies limiting intellectual freedom in the classroom that I know of,” Nelson says. “It undermined the normal human capacity to make comparisons and contrasts between different fields and between different cultures and historical periods. The revised policy is a vast improvement.”

The National Association of Scholars says the new policy proves that the AAUP “no longer understands its primary ideal”:

Academic freedom is conferred on faculty members conditionally, because they have earned greater knowledge—through self-discipline and scientist-like conduct—than that of the general public. Absent that condition, a professor’s words express nothing more than ordinary opinion and do not carry the special weight of hard-earned expertise. And if all opinions, expert and inexpert, are equal, academic freedom might as well extend to anyone on a soapbox, which the professor metaphorically mounts when he sounds off in class on all and sundry. Why should families pay for their children to hear a stranger’s untested opinions? And why, if ordinary opinion is to command the classroom, should it not be that of the trustees or taxpayers instead of their professorial employees?

This sloppy thinking trickles down to the students, who by the new policy will be taught to “form their own opinions,” and no longer to “think intelligently.” Thinking intelligently implies solutions to be found through penetrating study. Forming your own opinions can be done as easily in a muddle.

The NAS concludes that PSU–with the AAUP’s encouragement–has cut academic freedom off at the knees in the very act of trying to buck it up: “They do not realize that freedom without responsibility is cheap, and that professors lose respect when they use their positions to advance off-hand views unrelated to the subjects they’ve presumably mastered. Once that respect is lost, academic freedom is likely to follow.”

It already is.