Universities have always been places where young adults are invited to argue, question, and wrestle with ideas. When done well, this is more than academic exercise—it’s an essential part of maturing into thoughtful, responsible adults who own their beliefs rather than inherit them passively.
But this essential mission is increasingly squeezed between two opposing extremes, both of which undermine the university’s role as a place of intellectual and moral development.
On one side is absolute skepticism—the idea that we can’t know anything about the big questions, and that all opinions are equally valid simply because they are opinions. If that’s true, then what is education really for? At best, students are memorizing a collection of perspectives their professor happens to think are worth knowing, but there’s no claim to truth—no guidance about what is actually good, just, or meaningful. This kind of skepticism often masquerades as academic neutrality, especially in state universities that claim to have no belief commitments. But neutrality, when stretched to this degree, becomes its own kind of dogma: a refusal to make any absolute knowledge claims or to treat even the most logically absurd opinion as equal with the conclusion of a sound argument.
On the other side is dogmatism—sometimes called fideism—where one particular belief system is imposed on everyone without the opportunity for serious questioning or debate. In this environment, students aren’t invited to explore the truth, but to adopt a set of conclusions without argument. Ironically, many secular professors today accuse Christian universities of this approach, claiming that they alone have escaped the trap of unquestioned dogma.
But the truth is far more troubling: today’s secular universities are more ideologically rigid than ever before. A narrow set of assumptions—often centered on DEI orthodoxy, gender theory, or so-called decolonization—are treated as unquestionable truths. Professors who hold these views often resist public challenge, framing disagreement as harassment. Students, in turn, are expected not just to repeat this dogma, but to affirm it and live by it. They are made into “advocates” for this religion.
In this climate, both genuine skepticism as questioning assumptions, and honest belief, are discouraged. And that, more than anything else, threatens the soul of the university.
But we are not left hopeless or helpless. The university can still be restored—if we’re willing to recover three key foundations that have been neglected for too long.
1. Recovering the American Intellectual Tradition
First, we must remember that these are American universities. They exist within the context of an American belief system—one that was laid out clearly in the Declaration of Independence. There, we read that all humans are created equal—and that phrase, often quoted but rarely reflected upon, means just what it says: we are created. Our government begins with the foundation of God the Creator.
This Creator is not a vague life force, an impersonal energy, or a mere demiurge. The Founders spoke of God the Creator, a being knowable through creation and scripture. They cited the Bible more than any other book, especially Deuteronomy, as a source of truths necessary to establish government and life together, and the original state constitutions were unambiguous in their commitments to Christianity.
Crucially, belief in God was not promoted as blind faith. University students were taught natural theology—the reasoned study of God through nature and logic—as a core part of their education, often by the university president himself. This wasn’t dogma; it was argument, evidence, and disciplined thought.
The modern university—and government, for that matter—can and should affirm the importance of these foundational beliefs. Doing so does not violate the First Amendment, which forbids the establishment of a national church and protects freedom of worship. But just as public education rightly insists that students learn mathematics, it can also say that students should learn about the philosophical and theological foundations of human dignity, liberty, and moral order. After all, these are the very ideas that gave birth to American democracy.
2. Rejecting the Myth of Neutrality
Second, we must finally reject the myth of neutrality in education. Education is never neutral—it never has been. Every curriculum reflects some view of reality, of right and wrong, of human purpose. The radical left has long understood this, which is why it has rejected skepticism in favor of ideological control. There’s no pretense of neutrality when it comes to DEI orthodoxy, gender theory, or postcolonial critical theory. Their first plan is to act like it is simply the truth of the matter and not bring their assumptions to your attention. Next, if they are brought up, they avoid debate by saying it is harassment or racist. Their ideology is not just discussed; it are assumed, imposed, and enforced.
Christians have been late to realize this. For too long, they accepted the idea that public education could be a neutral space where differing beliefs could simply coexist. But education is not just the delivery of facts—it’s the interpretation of those facts, the formation of judgment, the pursuit of meaning. And you cannot interpret facts without first having some understanding of what reality is. We all interpret the facts in light of our basic beliefs.
By pretending to be neutral, the academy has actually privileged radical ideologies—especially those rooted in atheistic materialism, or in newer movements that revive forms of animism or witchcraft under the banner of identity. And even now, many Christians hesitate to bring their beliefs into public education, as though doing so were somehow inappropriate or impolite.
But American universities can and should affirm that education requires a grounding in the basics of reality—as articulated in the Declaration: God, human nature, human value, and human rights. These are not optional religious ideas. They are the foundations of our political and moral order because they are real—and they can be demonstrated through reasoned argument, not merely affirmed by blind faith.
3. Empowering Parents and Students
Finally, it is time to empower parents and students. You do not have to accept the line from leftist professors "we are the experts you must listen to us." You do not have to attend a university that is openly hostile to Christian and American beliefs. There are many better institutions—places where serious questions are welcomed, not silenced.
But if you find yourself in a university that has become hostile to open inquiry, you are not without recourse. Respectfully disagree. Document your concerns. If a professor imposes ideology and refuses dissent, raise the issue with your department or dean. Many universities still have formal policies that protect academic freedom—even if those protections are unevenly applied.
In states like Arizona, there are now anonymous reporting lines that allow students to share experiences of ideological bias or academic coercion. And don't be afraid to reach out to your state legislators—they are often more responsive than you might expect, especially when they hear from students and parents directly.
There is hope for the American university—but only if it returns to being American in its intellectual and moral commitments as stated in our Declaration of Independence. That means recovering the truths about reality that made education worth pursuing in the first place. These truths are publicly defensible, rationally grounded, and morally transformative. And they remain far stronger than the ideologies that currently suppress them.
Materialist philosophies—whether global Marxism or its domestic cultural Marxism—collapse under honest and open debate. But debate must be allowed. Inquiry must be free. And students must be brave enough to draw boundaries when lines are crossed.
Don't be intimidated by claims like "that’s harassment" or "logic is whiteness and heteronormativity." Those are tactics meant to shut down the very freedom that universities were built to protect.
The American university can be saved. But only if it remembers what made it great in the first place: the pursuit of meaning, grounded in truth about God and human nature, and illuminated by the Logos.