Can Religion and Spirituality Find a Place in Higher Education?

I don't know.  But I do know that the article by Peter Laurence does close to nothing to answer the question.

After some gratuitous throat clearing, Laurence dives into what he means by spirituality.  Briefly stated, descriptions of spirituality cluster around three themes: (1) inner (2) nonrational experiences of (3) connectedness.  (Laurence also includes holism, but I think it's redundant with connectedness.)

If this is all that is meant by spirituality, however, it doesn't seem that we have a dearth of spirituality whatsoever in higher education.  After all, a person participating in a typical sports team may feel exactly these experiences whenever they step onto the field/court and play with teammates.  A person in a fraternity or sorority may feel these experiences when talking to their brothers and sisters.  A person attending a party may feel exactly these experiences when dancing with friends.  A person may feel exactly this experience when having sex with their partner.  These aren't unique experiences.

Of course, we know that this isn't what Laurence really thinks spirituality means.  After all, he begins his article with a survey of chaplains who reported about religious diversity, formation of religious groups, and student interest in religion.  And the solution he suggests to this growing diversity is...*drum roll*...religious pluralism (what this means is left conspicuously undefined).

So we're left with a dilemma: either talk of spirituality is an attempt to shoehorn religion into the classroom or spirituality (broadly construed) is already pervasive in college.

To his credit, Laurence does devote one sentence in defending the view that spirituality (broadly construed) is lacking on campus.  In a quote by Parker Palmer:

[We] are distanced by a grading system that separates teachers from students, by departments that fragment fields of knowledge, by competition that makes students and teachers alike wary of their peers and by a bureaucracy that puts faculty and administration at odds.

The first thing to note about this quote is just how expansively Laurence intends to stretch the word "spirituality".  This quote suggests that by changing grading systems, interdepartmental cooperation, and faculty/administration bureaucracy, we can foster spirituality.  The second thing to note, even granting this absurdity, is that there are opportunity costs.  Maybe abolishing grades will lead to spirituality, but what will it do for job prospects and admission to grad school?  Maybe interdepartmental cooperation will lead to spirituality, but what about research that faculty find more worthwhile and productive?  The pithiness of Laurence's attention to this position suggests, however, that he would be more comfortable defending the first horn of the dilemma previously stated.  Perhaps religion should be considered a legitimate topic of discussion in classrooms; perhaps there is room in the curriculum for religious education; and perhaps extracurricular religious events should be more enthusiastically encouraged.  I actually partially agree with all three statements.  But it would behoove Laurence to address the issue directly instead of hiding behind a potemkin village.

Laurence ends his article by approvingly describing a celebration at Wellesley College, the theme of which was Beyond Tolerance.  In his introductory remarks, the dean of Wellesley says that "tolerance is ultimately not the basis upon which we can build a pluralistic community."  As the argument goes, tolerance merely leads to ignorance of others, failure to cooperate, and disdain for interdependence.  I completely disagree.

I am an atheist, a demographic shown to be among the most knowledgeable about world religions.  I tolerate other religions.  I tolerate people who think I'm immoral and should be killed.  I tolerate people who think I shouldn't hold a political office because I'm an atheist (a provision in 8 states' constitutions).  I tolerate people who continue to believe and espouse silly unscientific claims because of their religion.  On the other hand, I'm perfectly happy to cooperate with these people.  I've gone to more religious services than some of my Christian friends, and I know more about their religion than they do.  But insofar as I'm dependent on religious people, it's not in virtue of their religion.  I have very little doubt that the cashier at Wegman's identifies as Christian.  And I know that many of my friends are religious.  But I don't depend on their religiosity.  They could just as well be atheists for all I care.  I have healthy relationships and close connections.  That's where my tolerance has led me: not ignorance, not conflict, and not isolation.  Interdependence may be a fine goal for a university to have, but it’s not inimical to toleration.  And insofar as there is interdependence, it probably won’t be driven by religion (or spirituality).

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Laurence, Peter. "Can religion and spirituality find a place in higher education."About Campus 4.5 (1999): 11-16.

On Gender Inequality in Philosophy

There has been a recent push among philosophy departments to attract more women.  As is evident in many classrooms, men outnumber women and are more vocal in their discussions.  Some think that this is a consequence of prejudice among philosophy professors.  They may be more likely to call on men to answer questions or more likely to praise men than women.  As reformers argue, we should correct this inequality by encouraging female participation in philosophy and reducing the imbalance in numbers.

I'm skeptical, however, that this is such a good idea for several reasons.  First, opportunity costs. One way philosophy professors try to encourage female participation is by assigning more readings by female philosophers. But any time spent reading a work by a female philosopher is time spent not reading a work by a male philosopher. And if the work is chosen specifically because of the philosopher's sex, then it's less likely that it will be the most relevant/insightful/didactic example of philosophy in that particular field.

Second, and more importantly, I'm skeptical that inequality in a profession is a bad thing. There are more male plumbers than female plumbers. I have yet to hear a feminist complain about that. One explanation for the sexual inequality among plumbers may be because of discrimination and prejudice. Another, more plausible, explanation that I think people implicitly understand is because of sexual dimorphism, the idea that men and women are biologically predisposed to have different interests/abilities. The same principle might be applied to those who decide to engage in philosophy. Women seem less likely to pursue a career in philosophy. And if women are less inclined to be interested in philosophy, then it might be considered a waste of resources to try to attract them if there isn't a countervailing benefit.

Which brings me to my next point; there doesn't seem like there would be a large benefit to actively attracting women to philosophy. There are two benefits that I can think of, neither of which seems plausible: (1) Women bring to philosophy dramatically different ideas than men do, (2) Women create a more welcoming/caring atmosphere in philosophy that encourages cooperation. The first benefit, I think, is weak. A good idea is a good idea regardless of who it came from, and it doesn't seem like a person's genitalia would offer them any kind of new insight into metaphysics, epistemology, etc. The second benefit is a bit stronger, but lacking in empirical evidence. I'm skeptical that a female philosophy department would be more productive, more groundbreaking, or even more happy. I'd like to know concretely what women bring to philosophy that couldn't be brought by men.

Third, an unintended side-effect of encouraging women to pursue philosophy would be discouraging them to pursue other fields that interest them, fields that they may have enjoyed even more or excelled at even more highly. This relates to the same principle as the first reason, opportunity costs. If women are better than men at some tasks or enjoy those tasks more, then all the more power to them. Diversity of interests is what makes the world go round. If I dislike gardening and my neighbor loves gardening, then we can make a wonderful arrangement. But trying to cram enough people of a certain demographic into a department just to meet certain percentages fails to respect people's autonomy. It neglects the actual and potential interests of the individuals who are siphoned into those professions.

Fourth, even if inequality is a bad thing, I'm skeptical that it's the best use of resources to reduce the inequality. First, because we don't actually know how to reduce the inequality, there might be inefficiencies in how philosophy classes are taught until the processes is figured out. Second, even if we do know how to reduce the inequality, money that's used for philosophy departments to encourage women to join could be used to do other things, like buy books, fund research, or subsidize tuition.