RUTHFULLY YOURS

Take the university where I teach, Princeton. The campus—or at least the online campus, in the age of the coronavirus—has been in uproar since early July over a letter of demands to the administration signed by hundreds of my faculty colleagues, and especially over my response to that letter. I was immediately denounced on social media and condemned publicly by my department and the university president. At the same time, the university spokesman announced ominously that the administration would be “looking into the matter further.” On July 14, the Journal’s editorial board commented: “Princeton is demonstrating how a lack of leadership enables the cancel culture.”

It is therefore gratifying to report that Princeton’s leadership has done the right thing. I learned recently that I am not under investigation. The story of how I survived cancellation should be of interest to others, since I have no doubt that many more people, from once-obscure professors to public figures, will be vilified and in some cases materially punished for thought crimes.

In my response to the open letter, I agreed with some of my colleagues’ demands but objected to others, including some that are illegal (giving financial rewards specifically to faculty based on race) or, in my view, immoral (creating a new faculty committee to investigate research for traces of racism and discipline those responsible).

These demands deserve attention, not least because I believe that my colleagues are, for the most part, sensible people who are striving to make the world a better place. Unfortunately, heat over my use of the phrase “terrorist organization” to describe a defunct student group called the Black Justice League—whose members targeted and smeared fellow undergraduates for disagreeing with them—has triumphed over light: Neither my colleagues’ substantive demands nor my objections have received the attention they deserve.

The president of Princeton, Christopher Eisgruber, told a student newspaper that I had violated my obligation to exercise free speech “responsibly,” stating that he “personally and strongly” objected to my “false description” of the defunct student group. Four colleagues in my department, none of whom have been in touch with me directly, used the Princeton Classics website to denounce my language as “abhorrent” and made the astonishing claim that I had placed “Black colleagues, students, and alums at serious risk.” Some students and alumni went after me as well. And that’s to say nothing of the general vitriol online.

I emphatically do not want anyone to come away with the impression that I feel victimized. Yes, I’m bruised and angry, and sad because so many people who privately say they agree with me are too frightened to state their opinions publicly. But everyone has the right to free speech—my critics and I equally. I am certain that the university president was motivated by a concern for the Princeton community, as I was. We were both defending people we believe have been wronged. Each of us has every right to do this, and while we disagree about what constitutes offensive rhetoric, this is not a scandal. It should be normal for people with differing views to criticize each other in a civil fashion.

I believe my blunt words were justified. I also understand why some were offended by them. I wrote in good faith, expecting that my response would contribute to a necessary discussion on campus—even more necessary than I had realized, I now see. I also wrote in the expectation that my right to express my opinion would be protected under the legally enforceable guarantees of free speech known as the University of Chicago principles, adopted by vote of the Princeton faculty in 2015 and set forth in the university’s regulations.

It was therefore shocking to read that the university would be “looking into” what I had said. As Alex Morey of the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education wrote a few days ago, “Princeton’s suggestion alone that such action might be forthcoming has serious—and chilling—implications.”

But here we are. The administration is not investigating me, and my departmental colleagues have taken down their unwise statement of condemnation. Meanwhile, support keeps pouring in: from undergraduates, graduate students and faculty in my department and across the university; from alumni; from teachers all over the country and beyond; and from people unconnected to academia who are concerned that suppressing speech only makes worse the many problems the U.S. faces.

All this explains why free speech matters—for everyone. The president of Princeton is entitled to express his personal beliefs. So are my colleagues, at least on private websites. And I am particularly impressed with those very few students and alumni who demonstrated courage by writing to me in harsh but thoughtful terms about their objections to my words rather than bullying me quasi-anonymously online. I wish we were not at odds, but how much better it is for people to be permitted to argue than to follow, unthinkingly, the orthodoxy du jour. Free speech and robust debate have prevailed at Princeton.

Mr. Katz is a professor of classics at Princeton.