By Malcolm A. Kline

February 17, 2004 - We finally found a professor whose views college officials find objectionable: He's a practicing Catholic who teaches philosophy at a community college.

When Dr. James Tuttle told his philosophy class at Lakeland Community College that he was a Catholic Christian, one of his students took offense and suggested that the professor receive "counseling for tolerance." Subsequent events suggest that at least one of the professor's bosses is most in need of such counseling.

To address the student's concerns, Dr. Tuttle then added a "disclaimer" to his syllabi. "Since your teacher happens to be a Catholic Christian philosopher and theologian-and a passionate, controversial (not politically correct), candid and zany/earthy one, for that matter-please be aware of where I am coming from and where you are coming from," the disclaimer reads.

"It has been my experience from the past that those who are most critical of me as a teacher are often those who have personal issues with faith, religion, morals, and ideology (and find themselves on the opposite side of the net from me.)"

In our experience, few professors are so candid with their students, particularly when those pedagogues hold views that are the diametric opposite of Dr. Tuttle's. Fewer still make the offer Dr. Tuttle did to his students. "If you initially feel uncomfortable with me as an instructor," Dr. Tuttle wrote in his disclaimer, "please feel free to talk to me outside of the classroom situation, and we can try [italics Dr. Tuttle's] to resolve any problems that might arise later."

Dr. Tuttle's boss did not appreciate the candor. Dean James L. Brown, who heads the Arts and Humanities division at the Ohio community college, professed to be "more bothered by Tuttle's disclaimer than by anything I read in the student's complaint," according to the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education (FIRE), which is investigating the case.

Dean Brown took three actions in response to Dr. Tuttle's disclaimer, according to the FIRE. He reduced the professor's course load, gave him the last pick of classes (despite his seniority) and had his classes monitored by another professor.

When we tried to ask Dean Brown about his statement, he demurred. "I can't talk to you about that," he said. "That has to be handled by the president's office." Mary Ann Blakeley, executive assistant to Lakeland Community College President Morris W. Beverage, Jr., tells us that Dr. Tuttle will not be teaching at Lakeland this semester. He turned down the courses he was offered, which administrators knew that he had no desire to teach.

For his part, Beverage himself denies that religion played a role in the university's treatment of Dr. Tuttle. "That particular Ethics class [that sparked the controversy] has been taught by a Catholic nun and a rabbi," Beverage remembers. Beverage also says it is not unusual for department heads to monitor classes taught by professors at Lakeland.

"It has always been the norm at Lakeland for the department chairs to sit in on classes given by part-time teachers," Beverage says. These part-timers, in turn, make up about half of the faculty at Lakeland, Beverage estimates.

"When I taught there, my classes were monitored by the department chair," Beverage remembers. "We do it as a means of ensuring that the course requirements are met."

Still, no other professor that we have encountered anywhere has had a dean mandate such a humiliating restriction on classes. At Lakeland itself, other faculty members enjoy relative academic freedom, even those who attach questionable syllabi to their courses.

A sociology professor at Lakeland, for example, teaches class-struggle economics. He discusses "economic inequalities and poverty" and looks at "the relationship between race, gender and poverty." He also does a lecture on "Heterosexism" where he covers "institutional and personal discrimination and homophobia."

Ironically, we found a more typical case of how college administrators treat opinionated faculty members at St. Louis Community College. When Kimberly Level signed up for American History I at that college's Meramec campus, she was dismayed to hear the instructor, Dr. Kay Blalock, state forthrightly that she planned to look at "the negative side of American history."

Dr. Blalock went so far as to assign a book that compared the religion of the Puritans to the zeal of devil worshippers. When the Level family complained, the school sided with Dr. Blalock.

"The members of our family were told about academic freedom," Kimberly's father told the school's Board of Trustees. "Where is the academic freedom for a Christian to get an education?" he asked.

Or give one.

Malcolm A. Kline is the executive director of Accuracy in Academia.

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