In speeches and emails, Brown’s administration consistently praises open inquiry. President Christina Paxson P’19 P’MD’20 has reminded the community that “freedom of expression is an essential component of academic freedom,” insisting that even the most uncomfortable topics deserve space in the classroom. The message is clear: All voices are welcome, no matter how difficult the subject.
But on the ground, the story looks very different. Walk into many seminars and you’ll notice hesitation. While administrators celebrate robust debate, many of the very students Brown most prides itself on admitting feel compelled to remain silent. That silence is not just a personal choice; it reveals deeper inequalities in who feels able to speak and who does not.
If education depends on dialogue, then silence matters. And at Brown, patterns of self-censorship among underrepresented students threaten to narrow the diversity of perspectives that our classrooms claim to value.
In 2016, surveys and student accounts made clear that classroom participation at Brown is far from equal. White and male students generally reported feeling more at ease speaking up, while female students and students of color said they felt more discouraged to participate in discussion. Many underrepresented students described second-guessing themselves or feeling their contributions dismissed, which creates a climate where silence can feel safer than speaking. These experiences still hold true, almost a decade later. Whether it’s a student rehearsing a point several times in their mind before deciding not to raise their hand, another holding back during a discussion on race for fear their story will be reduced to a “personal anecdote” or a student staying silent in a philosophy class rather than risk being labeled the “diversity perspective,” the pattern is the telling. The classroom is supposed to be an equal playing field, but the experience of who can raise a hand is clearly unequal.
Nationally, too, surveys show that students hold back. As much as 60% of college students admit to self-censoring at least once, usually because they fear peers’ backlash. At Brown, reports suggest the culture is especially stifling: Brown was recently ranked near the bottom — 229th out of 251 schools — for its campus free expression climate.
Marginalized students stay quiet for a myriad of reasons. Microaggressions undermine their contributions. Course content tied to racism or sexism can reopen personal wounds. And a campus climate wary of saying the wrong thing adds another layer of fear. Together, these pressures make silence the safer choice — and show that the barriers are structural, not personal.
Some might argue that it is the student’s prerogative to choose to speak or stay silent. But the consequences extend far beyond individual discomfort. Education thrives on dialogue, but with self-censorship, discussions risk becoming one-dimensional. A literature class without the perspectives of students of color may overlook entire interpretive frameworks. A policy seminar dominated by majority voices may unconsciously normalize majority experiences. Diversity on paper does little good if that diversity does not shape conversations.
It is easy to affirm freedom of expression in theory. It is difficult to build classrooms where every student truly feels safe to contribute. That requires more than administrative statements. The University should require faculty workshops on inclusive teaching strategies, such as intentionally calling on a wider range of voices in class and structuring small-group discussions to reduce intimidation. These efforts help create peer-led discussion circles where students can engage with difficult material without fear of being dismissed.
Critics may dismiss these measures as “coddling.” But the greater danger lies in pretending that current conditions are sufficient. If a quarter of students sit in silence out of fear, we cannot claim to have achieved open inquiry. The loss is collective: fewer questions asked, fewer perspectives considered, fewer truths uncovered. Education, at its best, is a conversation. For Brown to live up to its ideals, every student must feel empowered to join in. The loudest voices cannot be the only ones heard.
Dua Azhar ’29 can be reached at dua_azhar@brown.edu. Please send responses to this column to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
