Wherever you turn to in Oxford, the words ‘free speech’ or ‘freedom of expression’ never seem too far away. Following the disbandment of Oxford Action for Palestine (OA4P)’s encampment and the revision of university-wide free speech guidelines, you’d be forgiven for being cautious about what you say, or more prudently, don’t say, on university grounds. Nonetheless, free speech is an integral part of democracy. And as intellectual power-houses, encompassing diverse student bodies who are often politically organised and politically motivated, universities are at the heart of free speech and social justice. If you can’t speak freely on a university campus, all hope seems lost.
During her annual Oration, the Vice-Chancellor, Professor Irene Tracey, announced plans for the ‘Sheldonian Series’. This new, termly event seeks to explore “the big questions of our age,” representing a variety of views from across academia. The discussions will be guided by the ‘Free Speech Tips’ devised by students and staff at Worcester College, as well as Heads of Houses from Balliol, Brasenose, Mansfield and Somerville, and hope to tackle difficult or otherwise controversial topics. The tips provide guidance on organising and orchestrating controversial events, upholding the right to disagree, and the importance of “respect for the individual.” Yet they’re only the tip of the iceberg – if you’ll pardon the pun – when it comes to fostering inclusive, civil debate. In a time of heated, geo-political tensions – a world shrouded in war, violence and humanitarian crises – it seems almost impossible to reconcile humanity’s deep-rooted, complex divisions. “Free and inclusive speech” requires balancing freedom of intellectual exploration with respect for all identities and beliefs. But in 2024, the ability to hold a conversation about Gaza, trans rights or reparations for slavery in which everyone feels equally heard and free to speak is but a naive dream. Such polite disagreement is more akin to a utopian vision than an achievable reality.
Like much of our political language, free speech finds its origins in ancient Greece, arising from two, quite distinct concepts. The first, isegoria, refers to the idea of equal speech in public, as practised in parliamentary chambers. Whilst the second, parrhesia, is about speaking freely and frankly: think die-hard Trump supporters. Over time these two concepts converged to denote what we now call freedom of speech. But there is a tension here between these differing terms: the former expresses equality, whilst the latter is concerned with liberty. This tension between liberty and equality is as clear today as it was in ancient Greece. As seen in its origins, what we often think of as freedom of speech can have different, nuanced and misconstrued meanings. Much like an elephant and a squirrel on a seesaw, balancing freedom of expression with respect and sensitivity is impossibly problematic.
Last week I attended a talk with Lord William Hague. The former foreign secretary was grilled on countless topics, including everything from war in Ukraine and the failings of the UN, to the future of the UK Conservative party and his bid to become the next Chancellor of the University. Amongst the many interesting insights made by Lord Hague was a comment on the tensions surrounding free speech. In reply to a question about freedom of expression on campus, he remarked that: “listening to views that make you uncomfortable is one of the most important parts of education.”
Lord Hague’s comment has been rattling around my head for the past week, leading to the dawning realisation that, perhaps, we have been taking the wrong approach to freedom of speech all along. The impossibility of reconciling freedom of expression with respect and sensitivity seems less intimidating when we shift our attention from speaking to listening.
When it comes to freedom of speech, we’re so obsessed with being heard that we often forget to listen. Whilst liberty and equality of expression are naturally important, polite disagreement can only work if it consists of a dialogue as opposed to a one-sided speech or lecture. In times of heated divisions, especially when our personal ideologies are at stake, we can get lost in the heat of the moment. We can focus so intensely on getting our point across, on being heard, that we’re oblivious to the arguments and thoughts on the other end of the spectrum, or the other side of the debate. For all our good intentions, we end up talking past each other instead of to each other. We must ask ourselves, if we so long for freedom of speech, for polite conversation and civil discourse, shouldn’t that involve listening as much as speaking?
If done correctly, the Sheldonian Series might enable conflicting and potentially polarising views to be expressed respectfully in a publicly accessible forum. But, more fundamentally, the series can provide an opportunity for varying opinions to be heard as well as expressed. Specific details about what we should expect of the series — how it is to be orchestrated, the speakers it will invite and the views it will represent — are yet to be established. But the Vice-Chancellor’s endorsement of the ‘Free Speech Tips’ is crucial. Whilst listening is not the primary concern of the tips, they do well to highlight that speakers should be “listened to in good faith”. No guidance on free speech can ever be perfect, but the principle that attendees should “respect the speaker’s right to speak and agree to allow them to be heard” is an important point. If we wish to talk to one another instead of talking past one another, listening, even if we find something disagreeable or uncomfortable, is an important skill for attendees as much as it is for speakers. A public speaker is only as powerful as its audience – if nobody cares to listen, our words will only ever fall upon deaf ears.
Of course, listening alone cannot solve our problems. Reconciling the world’s geo-political tensions – cultural, ethnic and religious divisions – is not so easy. But it’s possible that a greater emphasis on listening might help this age-old tension in freedom of speech feel slightly less utopian and increasingly realistic. Providing a venue for polite disagreement, a safe space for debate and reconciliation, is a noble, if not challenging, endeavour. But if the Sheldonian Series embraces listening as much as it does equal representation and diversity of thought, there might be hope for freedom of speech after all.
