Graduations are fraught times. Just look up the recent debacle at Michigan. I’m disappointed to add a story of my own.
David Suissa summarized the key facts in his article, “Georgetown Commencement Speaker Mort Schapiro Withdraws After Firestorm Caused by his Jewish Journal Columns.” As he wrote, my supportive view of Israel “was a bridge too far for a group of law students.”
I have written seventy columns in the JJ over the past three years, and while most have nothing to do with politics (last week’s, for example, was about sports), some have expressed my outrage at the way educational and other institutions have reacted to the extraordinary increase in anti-Jewish hatred on college campuses and in the larger world.
When Georgetown administrators invited me to accept an honorary degree and to give the commencement address at its law school, I suggested that they first read my columns before I agreed. They did, and replied that Georgetown is a place that cherishes dialogue and debate, and that they wanted me to speak there. I believed them.
Receiving an honorary degree meant little to me – I already have ten. But I thought the opportunity to share some thoughts with Georgetown Law graduates would be rewarding for them and for me.
As the JJ article mentioned, after I learned about a petition from law students decrying my presence at their ceremony, I withdrew. I have presided over dozens of commencements, and those ceremonies are about celebrating the graduates and their supporters. I didn’t want potential protestors to distract from the day’s festivities.
Georgetown Law quickly replaced me, announcing that the new speaker will be one of their law school professors. As David wrote in his column, this professor “has been outspoken in recent years, in particular for defending the right to express antisemitic views.”
So much for keeping politics out of the commencement ceremony.
Georgetown asked for my talk in advance, and I was about to send it to them on the day I discussed the petition with the dean.
It draws on several of my JJ columns about humility, gratitude, and, ironically, the urgent need for dialogue in our polarized society.
A number of people have asked to see it. So, here is the talk I was going to give at Georgetown Law on Sunday, May 17th:
“Thank you for allowing me to participate in these momentous proceedings. Over the years, I’ve seen dozens of my most talented students attend Georgetown Law, and I’ve followed their subsequent careers with pride and appreciation.
While professors are trained to speak for at least fifty minutes at a time, I’ve been told to keep my remarks under ten. I’ll try my best!
What can I possibly share with some of the world’s most promising legal minds?
I looked up the pre-enrollment numbers for today’s graduates. You entered Georgetown with formidable test scores, almost perfect college GPAs, and, for many, remarkable law school and work experience. You have brought astonishing skills to this amazing place, and from what I’ve heard, you have inspired your professors and each other.
That gives me hope for the future, because those skills are needed now more than ever. We are all aware that disrespect and distrust have increasingly plagued this country and the world. Dialogue seems to have become a lost art, and a curse of moral certainty has infected many of our minds. The American university, which is supposed to serve as an example of how to pursue the truth while engaging in mutual respect and understanding, has all too frequently been torn apart by forces both inside and outside the campus gates. I’m not wise enough to figure out how exactly we can move forward in academe and beyond. But I know that when Dean Teitelbaum says that Georgetown Law is deeply committed to free and open inquiry, deliberation and debate in all matters, and the untrammeled expression of ideas, he means it. May this school serve as an exemplar for all institutions, academic and otherwise, to emulate. And may your legal training position you to be at the forefront of restoring civility in all that we do. It’s a broken world, and we need your help to fix it.
And that isn’t the only thing you can offer.
As an economist, I have studied how human capital accumulation, among other investments, leads to economic growth and prosperity. Nations have long been searching for a magic formula that is guaranteed to foster widespread wealth creation, and, while I wish economists figured out such a formula, we have not. You can study success stories like Singapore and South Korea in great detail, without understanding all that much about how to replicate their experience.
My Northwestern University colleague and friend, Joel Mokyr, has devoted his professional career to figuring out the determinants of economic growth. In recognition of his extraordinary contributions as a scholar, he was awarded a Nobel Prize in Economics this past fall. Professor Mokyr has argued that while no single factor guarantees prosperity, there are certain critical ingredients. Included on his list are an independent judiciary, and an adherence to the rule of law. Without them, history suggests, long-term economic growth is next to impossible to sustain.
That’s why our world desperately needs your abilities. Your training has situated you brilliantly to contribute to the greater good, and with the values imbued in a Jesuit education, I’m convinced that you will embrace this responsibility with care and with grace. Let me remind you of the beautifully crafted words on the Georgetown webpage: “You’re an individual. With unique talents, dreams and passions.” “Here, a focus on justice for all, means that whatever you study, you’ll question narratives and understand different perspectives, learning to shape a better future for everyone.”
Just as critically, the expertise you have gained here has prepared you for a lifetime of learning. When I’m asked what is the most valuable skill our students need, I don’t say any of the obvious ones such as quantitative proficiency or an ability to work with others. Not that those aren’t important, they are, but in my view the key to a successful education is to provide not just the tools that enable you to educate yourself, but the humility to realize how much there still is to learn.
Don’t get me wrong – humility isn’t a lack of confidence. And given your accomplishments, you have every reason to be confident. But in the inspiring words of the writer and theologian C.S. Lewis, “humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself less.” The world didn’t begin with you, and it isn’t going to end with you.
And whatever you do, never let your confidence lead to a sense of superiority. When I was president of Williams College, a commencement speaker, the choreographer Chuck Davis, said something I haven’t forgotten: “the only time it’s acceptable to look down on someone, is when you are reaching out your hands to lift that person up.” Words to live by.
With humility comes gratitude. I suspect that not a single one of you would be here without the investment of time and money that has been made by so many on your behalf. Who hasn’t had a family member, friend, teacher, coach, neighbor, or member of the clergy who helped set you forth on your life’s journey?
Be sure to acknowledge all those who assisted you, some of whom I bet are celebrating with you today, and others who are cheering you on from afar.
And I ask you to do something else. Seek out someone who helped you along the way, but with whom you have lost touch, and tell them that you are graduating from Georgetown Law. Allow them to share in your success.
There’s no reason not to try to search for such a person. The bad news about social media and the internet is that anybody can find you; the good news is that you can find anyone else.
I’ll conclude with a story of my own. Unlike all of you, I was, at best, an indifferent student before enrolling in college. It never occurred to me that I would ever have any academic future until the professor in one of my first college courses – The Romantic Poets – took me aside and told me that I had talent as a writer and as a thinker. I was shocked. Nobody had ever said that to me before.
Fifty-five years later I don’t remember all that much about the poems of Wordsworth, Keats, and Coleridge. I ultimately became a professor of economics, not literature. But what mattered was that someone made an effort to encourage me when I needed it most.
Fifteen years ago, I searched on the internet for that long, lost professor and discovered that he was still teaching the joys of Blake, this time through a college in Canada.
I found his email address and wrote to him, saying that I bet he didn’t remember me, but that he had changed my life. I lit up when a reply showed up almost immediately in my inbox. The professor said that he did remember me! But I think he was just being kind.
The point wasn’t to make me feel better. It was to let him know that his kindness had a profound impact on me.
So please take my advice and reach out to someone who would be thrilled to learn that you are now a graduate of one of the world’s preeminent academic institutions, Georgetown Law.
Who knows, maybe one day someone will surprise you by reaching out in return, as your dean, my former Williams student, so thoughtfully did to me.
Thank you for listening. Congratulations and best of luck. It’s time to change the world for the better.”
Morton Schapiro served for more than 22 years as President of Northwestern University and Williams College. He taught almost 7,000 undergraduates over his more than 40 years as an economics professor.
