In case anyone doubted what was unfolding before our very eyes, Elon Musk did a Nazi salute not once but twice during the presidential inauguration. To the horror of many in the Jewish community, the Anti-Defamation League rushed to Musk’s defense. The new president pardoned 1,500 rioters charged with, among other things, seditious conspiracy, many of whom are known members of white nationalist and neo-Nazi groups. No number of sexual assault allegations (or poorly written patriarchal screeds) can keep violent men out of high office. Scientific progress on climate and global health is in jeopardy due to the US exit from the World Health Organization and the Paris Climate Accords, as well as freezing the funding of the National Institutes of Health (NIH). The number of “enemies” of the current administration is rapidly multiplying: immigrants, transgender people, the media, foreign students, student protesters, professors and the whole enterprise of higher education, women in the military, DEI, vaccines – science itself.

I wanted to write to you, my faculty colleagues whom I admire and respect, as well as to the students and to the staff of MIT to whom I am bound in terms of professional service and deep relationships of care. Part of my reason for writing is selfish. I want the historical record to show that when the very foundations of democracy and equality, not to mention people that I love, were under threat, I did not hide. I did not roll over. I did not capitulate. I did not change my research agenda. I did not hedge my values. I did not make excuses. I did not collaborate. I did not curry favor. I did not sacrifice some of you for my own privilege, comfort, and grant funding.

And that is exactly it: we are currently being invited to sacrifice each other. Almost daily, I think about the famous quote by Martin Niemöller which is on the walls of the US Holocaust Memorial:

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.

This is a meditation on silence, written by a German pastor who was no radical: he was a staunch anti-Communist who supported Hitler’s rise to power. However, as the horrors of the Reich unfolded, he not only came to regret this decision, but joined the anti-Fascist movement in Germany. His famous words mourn the moment where solidarity and collective voice could have prevented the horrors of the Holocaust; that mourning also led him into a fight in which he risked not only his career, but his life.

Thus, in my first piece for the Faculty Newsletter, I offer you my one voice in the hopes that we may join together – in courage, even as we may feel fearful – and continue to pursue the work that we have always done. I will not sacrifice any of us to the tyrants, who might start with demonizing transgender people and Women and Gender Studies (a very common authoritarian strategy, see Hungary) but will only continue to find more and more “enemies”, and demand more and more sacrifices, until only the most obsequious loyalists can continue their work unobstructed.

Those of you who know me know that I am a pragmatic person. Here is what I am doing specifically. I have joined all of the academic freedom groups on campus where faculty have been gathering for debate and dialogue. Thus, I would like to invite all of us to join the MIT chapter of the American Association of University Professors (AAUP) and the MIT Council on Academic Freedom (MITCAF). I hope to meet more of you in these spaces and I invite all of you to be in touch with me for anything you are planning that may help build our collective voice and nurture our resolve to continue the academic pursuit of truth and knowledge. None of us can have courage alone. But together our voice is mighty.

Back to top