There are moments in American history when silence becomes complicity, and higher education now sits squarely in one of those moments. Faculty are being scrutinized not only for their teaching and scholarship, but for their public voices, whether those voices appear in op-eds, podcasts, social media, or community forums. Legislators, political operatives, HR departments, and even institutional leaders have increasingly shown a willingness to pressure, monitor, or intimidate faculty members whose public scholarship challenges power or exposes uncomfortable truths. Despite these pressures, the Constitution, the Supreme Court, and the very purpose of the academy make it clear: faculty not only can speak on matters of public concern, they must.

The Supreme Court first set the modern framework for understanding the speech rights of public employees in Pickering v. Board of Education (1968). In that landmark case, the Court held that a public school teacher who wrote a sharply critical letter to the local newspaper about school funding could not be punished for speaking as a citizen on issues of public importance. The Court emphasized that public employees do not shed their First Amendment protections simply because they receive a government paycheck. Pickering’s logic became a cornerstone of American academic life, affirming that criticism of public institutions—yes, including universities—is a protected and essential part of democratic dialogue.

A decade later, the Court expanded these protections in Givhan v. Western Line School District (1979), holding that even private expressions of concern about racial discrimination were protected speech. The Court noted that public employees retain their First Amendment rights even when their speech is directed internally rather than through public channels. This case is vital for faculty today because it affirms that we can speak honestly about inequity, governance, retaliation, or institutional flaws without forfeiting constitutional protection. Whether the criticism is public or private, the key question is whether the speech concerns issues of broader societal importance, and discrimination, governance, and the functioning of public institutions always qualify.

When the Court revisited the speech rights of public employees in Garcetti v. Ceballos (2006), many feared that academic freedom would be weakened. Garcetti held that employees speaking pursuant to their official duties may not be protected. However, in a crucial carve-out, the Court explicitly suggested that its holding might not apply to faculty engaged in “academic scholarship or classroom instruction.” That footnote, so short many missed it, became a constitutional shield. Lower courts, scholars, and the AAUP have relied on it to reaffirm that academic freedom remains a special constitutional concern, protected precisely because democracy depends on unfettered inquiry and critique. Garcetti’s exception recognizes that faculty speech is not merely workplace expression; it is a public good.

The Supreme Court made that point unmistakably in Sweezy v. New Hampshire (1957), Keyishian v. Board of Regents (1967), and Healy v. James (1972). In these cases, the Court affirmed that universities are “marketplaces of ideas” and that academic freedom is a “special concern of the First Amendment.” These decisions remind us that the academic vocation includes a public responsibility. Faculty are not technicians hired to preserve institutional image or avoid controversy. We are scholars charged with expanding knowledge, interrogating systems, and illuminating public truths, even when those truths are inconvenient for those in power.

This responsibility takes on renewed urgency in the current political environment. Across the country, faculty face increased surveillance of their public commentary, amplified political attacks, and growing administrative discomfort with honest discussions of inequity, governance, and institutional failures. Some politicians attempt to weaponize state power to silence critical race scholarship, LGBTQ+ visibility, or analysis of governance failures. In some institutions, HR offices or administrators subtly monitor faculty posts or “check in” after public commentary that touches nerves or reveals systemic tension. These pressures create a climate of caution, yet they do not diminish the constitutional protection that faculty enjoy. If anything, they underscore how essential our voices have become.

Universities cannot discipline, silence, or retaliate against faculty for public-facing commentary that addresses issues of public concern. This includes discussions of leadership, governance, discrimination, equity, institutional culture, or the challenges facing public education. These are not private grievances; they are central questions in public life. The Constitution protects such speech, and the Supreme Court has repeatedly affirmed that public employees, and especially faculty, retain the right to speak as citizens on matters that shape our communities. Political discomfort is not a constitutional rationale for punishing speech. Administrative embarrassment is not grounds for silencing critique. And institutional leaders do not have the authority to censor scholarship simply because it is bold, honest, or disruptive of entrenched patterns.

But the legal right to speak is not the only foundation for our responsibility. There is a deeper, moral imperative rooted in the social contract between universities and the public. Institutions of higher education exist not to soothe power, but to challenge it. They exist not to insulate themselves from critique, but to improve in response to it. The health of a democracy depends on intellectuals who refuse to look away when institutions falter, and who use their expertise to guide communities toward better governance, deeper equity, and more just futures. Silence preserves comfort, not truth. And universities cannot fulfill their civic mission if faculty are afraid to speak honestly about the public institutions we inhabit.

Faculty must therefore continue writing, speaking, and telling the truth about the systems we navigate, including our own institutions, with clarity and courage. We do so not to disparage, but to illuminate. We do so not out of disloyalty, but out of devotion to the public good. We do so because academic freedom is not merely a professional privilege; it is a democratic responsibility. In times of political pressure, administrative caution, or ideological attack, the answer is not silence. The answer is more speech, grounded in expertise, animated by integrity, and guided by the principle the Supreme Court articulated more than half a century ago: public employees, including faculty, do not surrender their citizenship at the university gates.

If universities truly believe they are marketplaces of ideas, then they must welcome the full range of public-facing scholarship, even when that scholarship challenges internal systems or the political milieu in which institutions operate. And if democracy is to survive its current strains, faculty must resist the pressures that seek to narrow our voices or limit our public engagement, empowered by private attorneys, civil rights organizations, unions, and the many other stakeholders committed to protecting academic freedom. The Constitution protects our right to speak. Our scholarship compels us to speak. And the public needs us to speak. That is the responsibility we inherit and the responsibility we must continue to fulfill, without fear, without apology, and without favor.

---

Julian Vasquez Heilig is a nationally recognized policy scholar, public intellectual, and civil rights advocate. A trusted voice in public policy, he has testified for state legislatures, the U.S. Congress, the United Nations, and the U.S. Commission on Civil Rights, while also advising presidential and gubernatorial campaigns. His work has been cited by major outlets including The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Los Angeles Times, and he has appeared on networks from MSNBC and PBS to NPR and DemocracyNow!. He is a recipient of more than 30 honors, including the 2025 NAACP Keeper of the Flame Award, Vasquez Heilig brings both scholarly rigor and grassroots commitment to the fight for equity and justice.