Or, what if our hypothetical Leftist academic saw a crowd of pro-Life protesters spill into the street in front of an abortion clinic and posted, “Run them down!”

I pose this question because tweeting “Run them down!” was exactly what another UT professor did a few years ago after seeing news reports of Left-wing protesters in Charlotte, North Carolina. And Professor Glenn Reynolds wasn’t disciplined by UT at all for arguably encouraging drivers to plow through a group of their fellow Americans, much less fired for it.

‘Run them down’

Reynolds, who continues to work at UT, issued an apology shortly after the 2016 Twitter incident in which he wrote:

“Those words can be taken as encouragement of drivers going out of their way to run down protesters. I meant no such thing, and I’m sorry it seemed to many that I did. What I meant was that drivers who feel their lives are in danger from a violent mob should not stop their vehicles… .I was upset, and it was a bad tweet. I do not support violence except in cases of clear self-defense.”

In a recent News Sentinel article that examined the legal issues surrounding Shirinian’s case, Reynolds was quoted as saying that his tweet was “rather different than approving the murder of a man based solely on his opinions.”

He also said urging motorists to “run them down” was “legitimate under the law of self-defense, and in fact several states passed laws specifically recognizing the right to run over rioters who threaten your life or safety.”

Before going further, it’s important to keep in mind that the First Amendment protects us from the government trying to control our speech except in very specific and limited circumstances.

While UT is unquestionably a government institution, it also has the right to enforce employment policies that include some restrictions on the speech of its employees. This right, however, is complicated by the fact that universities are generally assumed to have a special responsibility to safeguard and encourage the expression of even the most unpopular opinions, which means that professors usually have strong protections when they address controversial topics.

As Reynolds — a law professor — undoubtedly knows, the Supreme Court ruled in the landmark case of Brandenburg v. Ohio (1969) that it’s perfectly legal in the United States to "justify" or even celebrate violence. It’s also legal to “advocate or teach the duty, necessity, or propriety" of violence. The only thing the government can prohibit is “incitement" to "imminent" violence, like exhorting an armed mob to kill passersby. Given the furious rhetoric pouring from the Right since Kirk’s death, it’s perhaps ironic that so many conservatives have hidden behind precisely this legal shield in recent years, including President Trump as well as paramilitary groups like the Proud Boys and numerous right-wing militias.

It’s hard for me to see how anyone could in good faith claim that Shirinian crossed any lines that Reynolds didn’t. There’s no way her alleged comments violated the Brandenburg test, for she was at worst applauding an event that had already happened rather than encouraging anyone to do anything. 

I’m also not sure how many prosecutors or juries would look kindly upon using a deadly weapon like a car or truck against unarmed men and women, even if the victims had been acting out in ways that scared the vehicle’s operator. And while it’s true that a small number of states have passed laws like Reynolds describes, they were enacted in response to the events in Charlotte and were therefore obviously not in effect when Reynolds made his tweet. It’s also worth noting that attempts to pass such a law in Tennessee have repeatedly failed.

UT: Professor undermined “mission and focus”

Last week, UT Chancellor Donde Plowman told a meeting of the Faculty Senate that she moved to fire Shirinian for violating the “university's expectations for civil and professional engagement, and respectful conduct.” She also claimed the professor undermined UT’s “mission and focus” and harmed the school’s reputation.

Philosophy professor Nora Berenstain confronted Plowman directly about the incident involving Reynolds, saying: “It's certainly noteworthy that the university will not condemn actual white supremacist and antisemitic hate speech, but will publicly frame a queer, feminist professor for quote ‘celebrating or advocating violence or murder’ for a Facebook comment that does neither."

Plowman refused to discuss the actions of previous administrations. She also stressed that, in her opinion, Shirinian couldn’t rightfully claim her remarks were a defensible example of academic freedom.

I couldn’t disagree more. UT officials need to make it crystal clear to the public exactly how Shirinian’s conduct was worse than that displayed by Reynolds, or else revisit their decision to terminate her. For the record, I reached out to UT about this very issue and never received a response. 

Not treating like cases alike sets a dangerous precedent for any institution or government, for consistency is the very foundation of not only rationality but justice. Officials are making it clear that students and employees shouldn’t expect to encounter an administrative atmosphere of genuine accountability at UT.

The potential hit to the university’s reputation is a lot more dire than overselling parking passes or serving up salmonella in a cafeteria. This is the kind of thing that can teach our society’s future leaders that rationality, morality, and personal responsibility are meaningless words. To do so while conservatives clutch their pearls and wail about a crisis in America’s fundamental values only adds insult to injury.

Moral authority

The UT community will remember this, and students and co-workers may come to see Reynolds as a living, breathing example of political hypocrisy in action due to an administrative decision he had nothing to do with. This is the kind of incident that may cause an erosion of the moral authority that should be wielded by those who oversee any university or institution of government. This last point is of central importance, by my reckoning, as I’ve come to realize the term “moral authority” refers to something of overwhelming importance that lurks around the edges of any discussion about how institutions and governments wield power. By way of explanation, please allow me a short personal digression….

Much like myself, my late father wore a great many hats in his day. When I was born, he was a judge in what we sometimes jokingly referred to as the Greater Cocke County Metropolitan Area. When he returned to private practice, his office remained a power node in the “good ole boy network” that once controlled everything from elections to video poker machines in upper East Tennessee. Before his death in 1999, he taught me a great many things (both intentionally and unintentionally) about leadership and civic duty. 

The most important of those lessons was this: You cannot wield moral authority unless you ARE a moral authority. 

This is an old lesson. It’s probably one of the oldest, in fact. I imagine it goes all the way back to our days on the African savanna, hunting and gathering in tiny groups where everyone’s moral responsibilities to the tribe were laid bare for all to see. I’ve seen the truth of it manifested repeatedly over the course of my own life, as I have chronicled — and sometimes contributed to — the downfall of many people who once held positions of great power and even greater trust. They each fell due to their refusal to acknowledge this truth, as countless other leaders have done.

It’s a lesson that was understood by the last few generations of American leaders and pundits, who at least recognized and scrupulously maintained the appearance of propriety even when they were less than faithful to it behind closed doors. They realized that public hypocrisy is an absolute killer of credibility, because judging people by a double moral standard shows a lack of any moral standards at all.

 believe this point was best articulated by one of the greatest heroes of the Vietnam War, James Stockdale, who won the Medal of Honor and served as president of both the Naval War College and The Citadel. In a harrowing account of the lessons he learned as a POW at the infamous “Hanoi Hilton” — lessons that were later to be reinforced in a wide range of situations involving moral judgments over the course of his long life  — Stockdale wrote: “Those who lose credibility with their peers and who cause their superiors to doubt their directness, honesty, or integrity are dead. Recovery isn't possible.”

I’m not arguing that Shirinian shouldn’t be fired, and I’m also not arguing that Reynolds (a man of formidable intellect who deserves his laurels) should be retroactively disciplined. In fact, I’m not entirely sure what an appropriate resolution to this situation would be, as I don’t claim to have the wisdom of Solomon or Socrates. But it needs to be confronted directly rather than allowed to fester in the vain hope it will be forgotten.

I’d like to add that I’ve never spoken with Reynolds about his incendiary text. In fact, the only time I can recall ever engaging him in conversation was many years before the incident, when I was invited into his home to interview his wife, Helen Smith, for a News Sentinel article I was researching. I ended up discussing several other topics with the couple and, while I don’t remember our conversation in detail, I left their home with the impression they were exceedingly gracious hosts and that Reynolds had a subtle, penetrating mind. 

I simply cannot imagine the man I met that day ever being comfortable as a poster child for the principle that only those who agree with The Party should be permitted to enjoy Free Speech.

I invite Reynolds, as a conservative champion of the First Amendment, to step forward and defend it with all the vim and vigor he’s shown in the past. He has a unique opportunity — perhaps even a responsibility — to stand up loud and proud. To join other voices on the Right, from Tucker Carlson and Erick Erickson to Ted Cruz, in defense of what is perhaps the most important right that Americans possess.

In the interest of fairness, I should acknowledge here that Reynolds has addressed the Shirinian controversy, albeit not in depth. In the aforementioned News Sentinel article, he described the termination of any government employee for comments made when not at work as “problematic …. However, not always unconstitutional.”

I believe it’s also fair to assert that his statements thus far aren’t nearly strong enough for a self-proclaimed conservative champion of Free Speech.

I’m not saying that Reynolds should apologize for his tweet, and I certainly don’t mean that he should start wearing a Che Guevara t-shirt while reading aloud passages from Richard Rorty. He’s no Liberal, and I’d never ask him go against his principles. I’m merely suggesting that he should publicly stand up for them in an unequivocal way.

I know that most, if not all, members of the UT community would appreciate reassurance that students, faculty, and staff won’t be forced to censor themselves with no one of his stature willing to speak up for them if they commit a Thoughtcrime. Maybe future generations would even remember him as a paragon of integrity and self-reflection.

But then again, maybe not. While researching this essay, I was disappointed to learn that Reynolds published a column in The New York Post just a few days ago in which he repeated the absurd lies the Trump administration is using to justify their assault on political opposition.

He claimed that a secretive army of Liberals who hate America and inspire violence have penetrated our schools, hospitals, police departments, and every other institution. UT officials presumably have no legal authority to censure this bit of hyperbolic propaganda — nor should they — even if Reynolds means that the government should now scrap the First Amendment in an effort to purge schools, hospitals, and other institutions of “liberals who hate America.”

I don’t want to believe that Glenn Reynolds, fiery champion of the right to offend, is now Comrade Reynolds, loyal apparatchik of The Party.

Please, Glenn — say it ain’t so.