This summer, Professor Don Steiner retired from his post in the Department of Mechanical, Aerospace, and Nuclear Engineering after over 25 years of service. In that time, he made significant contributions to the Rensselaer community, both in terms of his academic accomplishments and the myriad of roles and significant responsibilities he took on—which included chairing the steering committee for the self-study portion of the RPI’s recent Middle States reaccreditation process.
As is typical whenever an individual leaves the employ of the Institute, Steiner’s access to the university’s network and computing resources was cut off. Given his emeritus status, however, and his continuing research contracts, he petitioned for the reinstatement of his Rensselaer e-mail and related services.
In a letter to Steiner dated August 4, Vice President for Human Resources Curtis Powell notified him that his request was denied on the basis of charges that he had violated the Rensselaer Policy on Electronic Citizenship by harassing university personnel in his communication over the general faculty mailing list over the past year. Powell cited two specific instances of such abuse that he decried as defamatory, and he attached a subset of the messages Steiner had sent to the faculty, claiming they were “replete with violations of the above policy.”
Powell’s claims are unsupported and unwarranted, and his dependence on them to justify Steiner’s exclusion from electronic discourse at RPI amounts to overt censorship of the worst kind. To be sure, Steiner made damning accusations regarding the actions of Institute officials, especially the president and the provost. Even though these used powerful language, however, Steiner’s arguments had strong foundations in fact, and their suppression only serves to reinforce his overarching thesis—that the Rensselaer administration is encroaching on the freedom and practices that are cornerstones of an open academic environment.
One of Steiner’s e-mails that Powell took extra care to call out contained the following text, which originally appeared in a March 2008 message addressed to Provost Robert E. Palazzo:
“Should not a ‘provost’ be the advocate for the rights of all faculty? You have not done so. Therefore, you are not a ‘provost.’
“Should not a ‘provost’ uphold the Faculty Handbook procedures? You have not done so. Therefore, you are not a ‘provost.’
“Should not a ‘provost’ be truthful in dealing with the faculty? You have not done so. Therefore, you are not a ‘provost.’”
Palazzo has not been truthful in all his interactions with the faculty; in a letter dated September 10, 2007, he falsely claimed that the Faculty Senate violated its own constitution by requesting that the Institute Board of Trustees approve an amendment to that very same document. His misstatement remains uncorrected to this day.
He has also quite deliberately not upheld all the procedures of The Rensselaer Faculty Handbook. By recommending and supporting the suspension of the Faculty Senate, he intentionally excluded the clauses of the Handbook specifically designating the Senate as the representative body of the faculty and mandating the Senate’s participation in the promotion and tenure process.
Finally, allowing the Institute to censor Steiner is certainly indicative that Palazzo isn’t advocating for faculty rights all that much. Furthermore, beyond his false claims of constitutional impropriety in his September 10 message, he also labeled the Senate as “destructive,” and insinuated that its members were subverting proper governmental procedures; this is incendiary language that doesn’t show the proper “respect for the diversity of the population and opinion in the community” as called for in the Policy on Electronic Citizenship.
Thus, assuming that being truthful, upholding the Handbook, and advocating for the faculty in its entirety are all expected traits of a “provost”—certainly all reasonable claims, in my opinion—Steiner simply made a very reasonable and logical case that Palazzo is not, in fact, a “provost,” regardless of any titles that he might hold.
The other e-mail that Powell specifically cites as “harassment” is from February 21, and it refers to a message from President Shirley Ann Jackson to the faculty as “more of the same subterfuge and insulting pabulum.” While Steiner made use of vivid and uncomplimentary language, he goes on to dissect Jackson’s letter, backing up his summary with each successive point—something that Powell fails to mention.
Powell concludes that the “defamatory” remarks made by Steiner constitute harassment. Defamation, however, has a very significant legal meaning—it requires untruth, and Steiner’s comments don’t measure up to that standard. The decision to excommunicate him from RPI’s electronic community is therefore nothing short of censorship. This sort of behavior doesn’t belong at Rensselaer; it doesn’t belong at any academic institution. Academia has long been a bastion of freedom of thought and expression, and I find it truly appalling that the administration of this school has abandoned those traditions in the face of adversity.
Jackson and her cabinet need to act to fix this, and they need to act fast if RPI is to keep its good name. For some, unfortunately, the point of no return is long past. For example, there is little left that Palazzo can do now but tender his resignation as provost. During his short term, he has proven time and time again that he is either unable or unwilling to be a true “provost,” as Steiner might say. He has utterly failed in his role as a mutual ambassador for the faculty and administration, and he has shown no remorse for the bridges he has burned rather than built.
Furthermore, things have reached the point where Palazzo cannot act his part, even if he tried. Faculty Senate meeting minutes from September 2006 reported that Palazzo “believes there should be no fear of reprisals for communicating and sharing of ideas regardless of where one stands on an issue.” When considered with his complacency in Steiner’s censorship, this lays bare a shocking level of hypocrisy. Who can believe in someone who has such a track record of deception and falsehood? The provost-faculty relationship must be one built on trust, and he has managed to destroy any chance that we will see that in the near future.
It would be unfair, however, to pin the unfortunate situation we find ourselves in today solely on Palazzo. Powell and Jackson should both be held culpable for the roles they played in this drama. They have set the tone for future abuses and abridgments of freedoms, and only they can set things right.
A public apology to Steiner may go a long way toward rebuilding bridges with the faculty; a public statement from the Board of Trustees regarding freedom of expression would likewise be welcome. Yet no matter what action Jackson and her cabinet choose to take, they must be prepared to accept responsibility for the mess they have created.
