Defending free speech on campus is a collective responsibility

When the student sitting beside you stands up and declares that anyone who disagrees with their viewpoint is an illiterate, uneducated, mentally disabled conspiracy theorist, would you feel comfortable raising your hand to disagree? What if you just saw someone shot and killed on a college campus like yours, for sharing viewpoints like yours? 

Most people would stay silent. I did too. 

The increase in political violence and the acceptance of violence as a form of suppression continue to encourage students to censor themselves. This cycle undermines the community of debate, public discourse, and civility that are essential cornerstones for developing future leaders in our democracy. 

According to a study by the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, 54% of students at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, where I attend, reported self-censoring at least once or twice a month. Nearly a quarter said they self-censor several times a week, and 4% said they hold back their opinions almost every day. 

The statewide numbers are nearly as troubling; 45% of students across North Carolina report that they hold back their views at least once a month. 

These numbers reflect cultures and classrooms where fear of social punishment outweighs commitment to honest conversation. On both sides of the political aisle, we claim to value debate and tolerance, yet these ideals completely collapse when we believe disagreement reveals an opponent’s flawed character. 

When I arrived on campus last fall, I considered myself not very political. I enjoyed learning about history and politics in high school, and I was hopeful to continue my studies in college while avoiding the polarized, identity-driven debates I saw developing around me. That hope disappeared almost immediately. 

Repeatedly, my peers have expressed to me that when faced with an assignment on a controversial topic, instead of taking the opportunity to thoughtfully illustrate their personal beliefs, they do exactly the opposite. Assimilation by writing the opposite of what you believe to maintain good grades and avoid a professor’s retribution is too frequently the source of academic success. When you want to go to graduate school or law school, risking your grade point average becomes a lot more daunting, no matter how much you want to express yourself or stand on your viewpoints. 

Ideological disagreement not only can lead to academic consequences, but social ones. I regularly see students bully, ostracize, and gossip about conservative students they interact with, discrediting their opinions simply because of their party affiliation and not because of anything to do with their actions, statements, or character. Gossip and teasing may be common among college students, but they become problematic when used to silence those who share differing viewpoints. 

This absolutely does not foster an educational experience where students learn to test, debate, and refine their opinions. Instead, it forces some students into silence rather than risk becoming a target of their peers, professors, or teaching assistants, while other students go through their four years of university without learning to civilly defend, research, and discuss their perspectives. 

The political right is not exempt. While some conservatives are more willing to engage with opposing arguments, I have heard young Republicans dismiss classmates for being too liberal or too “woke,” or worse, as depicted in the recently leaked Young Republican text threads. Both sides contribute to the culture of ridicule. 

The acceptance of political violence is even more troubling. According to FIRE, more than a third of UNC students are, at least rarely, willing to use violence to stop others from speaking. In a place where intimidation is normalized, it is no surprise that so many students choose to stay silent even when they have valuable insights to share. Why are we, as a student body and as a generation, nearly as accepting of using violence against our fellow students as we are of openly sharing our views and opinions? 

This is not just a UNC-Chapel Hill problem. Despite receiving an “F” ranking in the categories of self-censorship, administrative support, and political tolerance, UNC-Chapel Hill ranks among the top schools nationwide for its free speech environment. The university scored 70.6 out of 100 on FIRE’s metrics, above the state average of 67.8 and the national average of 58.6. 

The statistics and stories at UNC-Chapel Hill are a microcosm of the much broader, and much scarier, lack of public discourse and free expression among our next generation of leaders, scholars, and professionals. If even a campus with relatively strong institutional protections struggles to foster free expression, the problem is clearly much larger. 

The tendency to self-censor on campus also reflects a broader trend as political violence and threats are increasingly visible in public life. Recent attacks against public figures show how quickly disagreement can escalate into real danger. 

Campus disagreements may not look the same, but the growing willingness to dehumanize or suppress anyone who thinks differently is a part of the same pattern. This cannot continue, and the responsibility does not fall on students alone. 

In a democracy, we all share responsibility for protecting the spaces where ideas can be expressed freely. Voting matters, but so do listening, engaging, and speaking with honesty. Free expression survives only when we defend it in our everyday interactions. 

That responsibility is collective. Parents and teachers can model thoughtful disagreement and create classrooms where debate is not only accepted but encouraged. Professors, mentors, and employers can foster environments where young people learn to test their convictions, confront opposing views, and argue with both rigor and empathy. 

Universities, clubs, and institutions also have the unique opportunity to use their platform to spark debate, foster public discourse, and encourage free speech without the fear of retribution and consequence. Thankfully, this is a mission already being taken up by initiatives, such as the School of Civic Life and Leadership’s Program for Public Discourse at UNC-Chapel Hill. 

Students should also recognize that they will soon shape the communities, the state, and the country they now study within. They should treat their education and their daily choices with that civic responsibility in mind. A democracy cannot endure if its citizens retreat from the effort required to protect free speech, open inquiry, and honest debate. 

If we want a future in which young people can speak without fear, we must restore a culture that treats disagreement as necessary and valuable. That renewal begins in each conversation, each classroom, and each decision to listen rather than remain silent. Our democracy depends on this daily commitment.