The Evolving Language of
Diversity and Integration in Discussions of Affirmative Action from Bakke to Grutter
Chapter 2 of Defending Diversity. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press (2004).
Jeffrey S. Lehman*
In December 1997, Barbara Grutter brought a lawsuit challenging the constitutionality of the University of Michigan Law School’s admissions policy. In June 2003 the United States Supreme Court issued its opinion in Grutter v. Bollinger, definitively rejecting that challenge. I served as dean of the Law School throughout the five-and-one-half-year litigation, and my role gave me many opportunities to reflect on the different factors that have made affirmative action such a difficult issue.
As one of the university’s
public representatives throughout the litigation, I was often called upon to
speak and write about the case. It
was important to me that I be able to speak consistently – describing the
issues in the same terms, regardless of whether my immediate audience was
supportive or critical of our admissions policy. It was important that I be able to speak consistently with our
published admissions policy. It
was important that I be able to speak consistently with our court
submissions. And it was important
that I be able to speak in a way that I felt authentically captured the
complexities of the issues.
As I returned to the topic
again and again, I found this to be an exceptionally challenging exercise. What made the topic so difficult was
the way in which Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke had restricted the terrain on which university officials
could speak about affirmative action.
A language that speaks only about the “educational benefits of
diversity” offers an incomplete vocabulary for talking and thinking about race
and higher education. Over the
duration of the lawsuit, therefore, I heard my own voice evolve.
Most Americans resonate with
the ideal of colorblindness -- that public and private institutions, and even
individuals, should not allow their conduct towards a person to be influenced
by that person's race or ethnicity.
That ideal has found expression in many corners of our society, most
notably in the legal doctrine that has interpreted the Equal Protection Clause
of the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution. Under that doctrine, departures from colorblindness
are not necessarily unlawful, but (to use the legal terms of art) they are
always “suspect”; they demand justification in the form of a “compelling
interest.”
As I worked alongside many
others to explain why, in the context of university admissions, carefully
crafted departures from the ideal of colorblindness can be both lawful and
appropriate, I found myself referring more and more to an ideal that seems
today to carry more resonance with most Americans than the pedagogic notion of
diversity. More and more, I invoked the vocabulary of integration. The word “diversity” can feel somewhat
one-dimensional, connoting only a property of racial heterogeneity that may or
may not exist in a particular place at a particular moment in time. At least today, the word “integration”
does a better job of capturing the special importance to our country of undoing
the damaging legacy of laws and norms that artificially separated citizens from
one another on the basis of race.
The enduring scars left by that history pose the greatest practical
challenge to our nation’s prosperity and, for many, to its democratic
legitimacy.[1]
A close reading of the
Supreme Court’s opinion upholding our admissions policy reveals that, over the
span of twenty-five years from Bakke
to Grutter, the Court underwent a
similar evolution. Justice
Powell’s opinion in Bakke was
succeeded by an opinion for the Court that drew on a more satisfying, weightier
justification for universities’ departure from colorblindness. The “compelling interest” is about more
than just pedagogy. It is about
the fundamental legitimacy of America’s approach to distributing educational
opportunity.
In this essay, I will trace
the parallel evolutions of the vocabulary of Supreme Court doctrine and my own
discussions of affirmative action in my role as a law school dean. I will begin with Justice Powell’s
opinion in Bakke and end with Justice
O’Connor’s opinion in Grutter. In between, I will discuss the
admissions policy adopted by the University of Michigan Law School in 1992 that
became the subject of the litigation and then reflect on several of my own
public statements over the course of the litigation. I will suggest that the overall movement in vocabulary over
the course of the litigation – from diversity to integration, pedagogy to
democratic legitimacy – is a healthy movement for Constitutional doctrine,
higher education, and public discussions of race and ethnicity.
I
Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke defined the legal background for
university admissions policies after 1978. In his opinion, Justice Powell endorsed one particular
understanding of why universities have a compelling interest in enrolling a
racially diverse student body. He
recognized that diversity has pedagogic
benefits. His opinion describes an
environmental condition that enhances students’ opportunities to learn.
Justice Powell began with a
general observation, “The atmosphere of ‘speculation,
experiment and creation’ - so essential to the quality of higher education - is
widely believed to be promoted by a diverse student body.” [Regents of California v. Bakke,
438 U.S. 265, 312-315 (1978).] For
this proposition, he relied upon the trenchant comments of the then-president
of Princeton University, William Bowen:
. . . . .
"In the nature of things, it is hard to know how, and when, and even if, this informal ‘learning through diversity’ actually occurs. It does not occur for everyone. For many, however, the unplanned, casual encounters with roommates, fellow sufferers in an organic chemistry class, student workers in the library, teammates on a basketball squad, or other participants in class affairs or student government can be subtle and yet powerful sources of improved understanding and personal growth."
Justice Powell declared that
a university’s desire to nourish such an atmosphere of speculation implicates
the values of the First Amendment, values that respect a university’s interests
in defining itself as an institution and in becoming the kind of school it
aspires to be:
[Bakke,
supra, at 312-313.]
He went on to endorse the
idea that the existence of a diverse student body offers pedagogic benefits for
professional schools as well as undergraduate colleges:
It may be argued that there is
greater force to these views at the undergraduate level than in a medical
school where the training is centered primarily on professional competency. But
even at the graduate level, our tradition and experience lend support to the
view that the contribution of diversity is substantial. In Sweatt v. Painter, 339
U.S., at 634 , the Court made a
similar point with specific reference to legal education:
“The law school, the proving ground
for legal learning and practice, cannot be effective in isolation from the
individuals and institutions with which the law interacts. Few students and no
one who has practiced law would choose to study in an academic vacuum, removed
from the interplay of ideas and the exchange of views with which the law is
concerned.”
[Bakke, supra, at 313-14.]
After recognizing that this
pedagogic interest in diversity can be compelling, Justice Powell went on to
note that such an interest nevertheless cannot justify any and all admissions
policies that promote it. A policy
that categorizes students on the basis of race must do so in a manner (to use
another legal term of art) that is “narrowly tailored” to the pursuit of that
interest. It must honestly
recognize that racial and ethnic diversity is not the only kind of diversity
that has such pedagogic value.
“The diversity that furthers a compelling state interest encompasses a
far broader array of qualifications and characteristics of which racial or
ethnic origin is but a single though important element.” [Bakke,
supra, at 315.] The university must employ a capacious
understanding of what constitutes “beneficial educational pluralism,” consider
“all pertinent elements of diversity,” and “place them on the same footing for
consideration, though not necessarily according them the same weight.” [Bakke,
supra, at 317.] Such a policy must not insulate any
applicant from comparison with all other applicants; rather, it must attempt to
“treat[] each applicant as an individual” and evaluate that individual’s
“combined qualifications” for admission.
[Bakke, supra, at 318.]
II
During the academic year
1991-92, I served as one of the junior members of a faculty committee charged
with revising the Law School’s admissions policy. Part of our mandate was to produce a policy that was lawful
under the guidelines established by Justice Powell. We sought to develop a policy that would incorporate
this pedagogic vision of diversity into a general philosophy of admissions that
accurately captured our own definition of ourselves as an institution and
linked our admissions process to our more general efforts to become the kind of
law school we aspired to be. And
we attempted to devise a system that would carry that philosophy forward into
the daily work of an admissions office.
The policy begins with a
paragraph that expresses complex and multiple aspirations:
Our goal is to admit a group of
students who individually and collectively are among the most capable students
applying to American law schools in a given year. As individuals we expect our admittees not only to have
substantial promise for success in law school but also to have a strong
likelihood of succeeding in the practice of law and contributing in diverse
ways to the well-being of others.
Michigan has many alumni who are esteemed legal practitioners, leaders
of the American bar, significant contributors to legal scholarship and/or
selfless contributors to the public interest. Those we admit should have the potential to follow in those
traditions.
The next paragraph of the
policy relates the goals for the admissions process to the mechanisms through
which law students learn – mechanisms that move far beyond the classroom and
that reflect both the individual qualities of students and their dynamics as a
group.
Having framed its goals in
this general manner, the admissions policy then proceeds to provide more
specific guidance to the admissions office. Reflecting the individual and collective nature of the
education offered by the school, it establishes two preliminary principles for
admissions that consider candidates both as individuals and as members of a
group. The first
(individual-focused) principle is that “no applicant should
be admitted unless we expect that applicant to do well enough to graduate with
no serious academic problems.” The
second (group-focused) principle is that “a reasonable proportion of our places
should go to Michigan residents, even if some have qualifications lower than
those of some [rejected] applicants from outside Michigan.”
The
minimal principles – individual academic qualification and representation of
Michigan residents – define somewhat rigid boundaries for the evaluative work
of the admissions office. The
remainder of the policy (which accounts for 13 of the 16 pages) discusses what
the admissions office should do within those boundaries. That discussion unfolds in three
stages, carefully tracking the vision of Justice Powell. They discuss in general terms the
weight to be given the various qualities of an individual candidate. They relate those considerations to the
pedagogic interest in having a class that is diverse in every sense of the
word. And they situate the Law
School’s interest in having a racially diverse class within the frame of that
broad pedagogic interest.
The
first stage of the discussion of how judgment should be exercised within the
boundaries of individual academic qualification and representation of Michigan
residents concerns the individual student’s potential to excel academically:
We begin with the individual and the
goal of maximizing competence. Our
most general measure … of the likelihood of a distinguished legal career is
success in law school as operationalized by graded law school performance. [And our] most general measure
predicting graded law school performance is a composite of an applicant’s LSAT
score and undergraduate grade point average [known as the ‘index’].
…
… [T]he higher one’s index score,
the greater should be one’s chances of being admitted. … Still, even the highest possible
score ought not guarantee admission:
imagine an applicant whose undergraduate course selection seems
relentlessly dull, whose personal statements and LSAT essay are thin or
incoherent, and whose letters of recommendation damn with faint praise. And even a quite low score ought not
automatically deny a candidate admission:
for again one can imagine dramatically offsetting considerations.
When the differences in index scores
are small, we believe it is important to weigh as best we can not just the
index but also such file characteristics as the enthusiasm of recommenders, the
quality of the undergraduate institution, the quality of the applicant’s essay,
and the areas and difficulty of undergraduate course selection.
…
[S]ome students will qualify for admission
despite index scores that place them relatively far from the upper right corner
of [a grid that plots students’ undergraduate grades and test scores.] …
[T]here are students for whom we have good reason to be skeptical of an index
score based prediction.
The
second stage of the discussion of how judgment should be exercised within the
boundaries of individual academic qualification and representation of Michigan
residents concerns the collective diversity of the class, with diversity
understood in its broadest sense.
Other information in an applicant’s
file may add nothing about the applicant’s likely LGPA beyond what may be
discerned from the index, but it may suggest that that applicant has a
perspective or experiences that will contribute to the diverse student body
that we hope to assemble. The
applicant may for example be a member of a minority group whose experiences are
likely to be different from those of most students, may be likely to make a unique
contribution to the bar, or may have had a successful career as a concert
pianist or may speak five languages.”
….
… [A]dmitting students with indices
relatively far from the upper right corner … may help achieve that diversity
which has the potential to enrich everyone’s education and thus make a law
school class stronger than the sum of its parts. In particular we seek to admit students with distinctive
perspectives and experiences as well as students who are particularly likely to
assume the kinds of leadership roles in the bar and make the kinds of
contributions to society discussed in the introduction to this report. (We reiterate, however, that no student
should be admitted unless his or her file as a whole leads us to expect him or
her to do well enough to graduate without serious academic problems.)
There are many possible bases for
diversity admissions. During the
past year for example the Admissions Committee, influenced by diversity
considerations, has recommended the admission of students like the following. . . .
The
third and final stage of the discussion of how judgment should be exercised
within the boundaries of individual academic qualification and representation
of Michigan residents concerns the importance of racial and ethnic diversity
within the context of diversity understood in its broadest sense:
There is, however, a commitment to
one particular type of diversity that the school has long had and which should
continue. This is a commitment to
racial and ethnic diversity with special reference to the inclusion of students
from groups which have been historically discriminated against, like African
Americans, Hispanics and Native Americans, who without this commitment might
not be represented in our student body in meaningful numbers. These students are particularly likely
to have experiences and perspectives of special importance to our mission.
Over the past two decades, the law
school has made special efforts to increase the numbers of such students in the
school. We believe that the racial
and ethnic diversity that has resulted has made the University of Michigan Law
School a better law school than it could possibly have been otherwise. By enrolling a ‘critical mass’ of
minority students, we have ensured their ability to make unique contributions
to the character of the Law School; the policies embodied in this document
should ensure that those contributions continue in the future.
While one of our goals is to have
substantial and meaningful racial and ethnic diversity, we do not, as we have
already indicated, mean to define diversity solely in terms of racial and
ethnic status. Nor are we
insensitive to the competition among all students for admission to this law
school.
During
the litigation, much attention was paid to the term “critical mass,” and
whether it might somehow have been intended to smuggle a quota-based system
into the policy. (It wasn’t, and
the Supreme Court’s opinion held as much.) For purposes of this essay, however, I would like to
concentrate on the first paragraph and its reference to groups that have been
discriminated against. It
provides a clear example of the way in which the legal framework established by
Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke
channeled the way we thought and spoke about university admissions.
The sentence in question identifies African Americans, Hispanics, and Native Americans as three groups that share two properties: (a) they were historically discriminated against, and (b) today they would not be present at the Law School in meaningful numbers without some conscious attention in the admissions process. It is important to appreciate that, under the logic of the admissions policy, those two properties were not thought sufficient, in and of themselves, to establish a basis for the use of affirmative action. Affirmative action was not predicated upon a desire to make up for historic discrimination, nor by a desire to maintain a numerical balance among the races of attending students. Rather, the fact of historic discrimination was significant only because it is part of what makes racial diversity a pedagogically meaningful kind of diversity within a law school (unlike, for example, diversity of middle initials). That is why the last sentence of the paragraph identifies students from these groups as being “particularly likely to have experiences and perspectives of special importance to our mission.” Similarly, the fact that meaningful numbers of minority students could not be enrolled without affirmative action was not significant for its own sake, nor did it matter whether historic discrimination was the cause of any group’s current under-representation. Under the policy, all that mattered was that without affirmative action pedagogically meaningful diversity could not be achieved.
III
Our admissions policy was adopted by the full faculty in 1992. In 1997, the Center for Individual Rights (“CIR”) filed a lawsuit on behalf of Barbara Grutter, challenging the constitutionality of that policy.
The
day after the lawsuit was filed, I wrote a letter to many of our most important
and loyal graduates, setting out the position we intended to follow in the
litigation. In the portion of the
letter discussing the merits of our position, I wrote:
As to CIR’s legal argument, I am
confident that our admissions policy is constitutional. Justice Powell’s opinion in Regents of the University of California v.
Bakke affirms that the Fourteenth
Amendment does not bar universities from choosing, in the exercise of their
sound educational discretion, to adopt admissions policies like ours. I believe that the Supreme Court should
not, and will not, use this lawsuit to change the law and eliminate
universities’ authority to decide whether to make appropriate use of racial
diversity as one of many factors in admissions.
As to how that authority is
exercised, I believe that our admissions policy … helps us to offer the best
possible educational environment. The Law School strives to cultivate in our
students the ability to understand an issue from many perspectives. Students develop this ability through
their interactions with the faculty and with one another, inside and outside
the classroom.
Race matters in American society,
but it is not all that matters.
Americans of different races have different experiences that predictably
lead them to bring different insights to the study of legal issues as diverse
as property law, contract law, criminal justice, social welfare policy, civil
rights law, voting rights law, and the First Amendment. At the same time, racial background
does not preordain one’s views. A diverse student body allows students to
appreciate this complex but important social reality.
Racial diversity is one of many forms of diversity that we value, and one of many factors in our admissions decisions. Our admissions office does not use quotas; the percentage of students of different races varies noticeably from year to year. And we consider diversity within the larger context of admitting only students whom we expect to become outstanding lawyers.
We believe that the judgment we
exercise in admissions is affirmed by the quality of the intellectual
experience that our students enjoy, and by the achievements and contributions
that our graduates have made to our society after leaving Ann Arbor. Law School graduates of all races have
distinguished themselves as partners in major law firms, holders of federal and
state elective office, judges and justices, and senior business executives.
(emphasis added).
In
hindsight, I find this letter interesting both for what it did and for what it
did not do. It tracked closely the
terms of the admissions policy itself.
It explained the educational goal of legal education (helping students
to see problems from multiple perspectives) and the way diversity within the
student body promoted that goal.
But the letter did not acknowledge the societal cost that follows from
any departure from strict colorblindness.
It did not use the general vocabulary of integration to describe the
value that justifies that departure in this case. And it did not explain why a rigidly colorblind admissions
policy could not produce a meaningfully integrated entering class.
During
the eighteen months, I was constantly working on the case. The process of discovery was lengthy,
involving the production of documents pertaining to our admissions process as
well as depositions. I met with
newspaper editors to discuss our position. And I had countless conversations with concerned alumni –
graduates who loved the Law School but who needed reassurance that we were
doing the right thing.
Throughout
those conversations, I was impressed with the powerful feelings of ambivalence
that many people feel about affirmative action. Not surprisingly, it sometimes triggered very personal fears
that they or their children might not be able to enjoy as many life
opportunities as they would like.
But even when the issue was not felt as a personal issue, many of the
people I spoke with felt deeply torn.
Using race as a category felt problematic and dangerous. But failing to do so in these
circumstances felt just as bad, or worse.
I came to believe that it was important for us to speak directly of the
conflict between the two attractive ideals of colorblindness and integration.
In
April 1999, I began to try out such an approach in a speech at a gathering
about racial unity where I knew most of the audience supported our position in
the litigation. As I prepared to
address that audience, I recognized clearly that Justice Powell’s academic
discussion of diversity provided only a partial explanation for why affirmative
action remains necessary. I
therefore decided to invoke affirmative action’s role in a larger project of
integration:
In the end, we will prevail only if we persuade our adversaries of a fundamental but painful fact about America. And that is, in this country, racial integration does not happen by accident.
…
[O]ur adversaries say that if the Law School ran a colorblind admissions process, most of those 25 seats [occupied by African Americans within a total class of 339] might have gone to white people. That might not have made a difference for 1000 disappointed applicants. But maybe it would have for 15.
And that is precisely my point.
300 years of chattel slavery and 100 years of de jure segregation left our country enfeebled. The changes in our legal order that were brought about in 1954 and 1964 were not enough to make that history irrelevant. Not in five years, not in twenty-five years, not in forty-five years.
At the end of the millenium, racial integration in America still does not happen by accident.
Housing in America is hypersegregated by race. According to historian Thomas Sugrue, who is going to testify as an expert in our lawsuit, Detroit is more segregated in 1990 than it was in 1960.
Wealth, opportunity, education, and preparation for law school are not distributed colorblind in America in 1999.
Interestingly,
I did not feel comfortable stopping there. After making points that were not part of the “script”
furnished by Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke,
I returned to that script to explain exactly how our admissions process
operated:
The CIR lawyers argue that we should not worry about that. That we should fill in our class according to students’ “numbers”: their undergraduate grade point average and their LSAT test score.
We rely on undergraduate grade point averages and test scores. They do a respectable job of predicting how well someone will do in law school.
But that is not all we rely on.
We look at whether applicants took hard or easy courses. We look at whether they took more demanding or less demanding subjects. We look at whether they attended more competitive or less competitive schools.
We look at how well they write essays. We look at what their professors say about them in letters of recommendation.
And we think about what they will add to the class. We think about what they will add to the profession. We think about what they will add to society.
Because we don’t have enough seats for everyone who might be able to do the work. We have to allocate them.
And part of how we allocate them is to promote diversity within our school. Because it’s easier to learn how to be a good lawyer if you are interacting with people who are different from yourself.
Everyone who attends our law school is better off if we are diverse.
Then,
by way of conclusion, I attempted to draw the two aspects of the speech – the
discussion of integration and the discussion of diversity – together into a
unified whole. In so doing, I
wanted to remind my audience that, in using affirmative action, we were
compromising an ideal of colorblindness that was important to us as well:
If we did not consider race, we would not be an integrated and diverse school. Racial integration does not happen by accident.
Our adversaries say that it is OK for us to seek diversity in these other dimensions. It is OK for us to consider these features of the individuals who apply for admission. They just want us to slice off one attribute. They want us to try to slice off people’s race, and consider them as raceless beings.
And our adversaries are surely right to remind us that, in the long sweep of history, race has been
used in pernicious ways. And there is a cost to relying on that category, even though we are doing so for positive reasons. If racial integration could happen by accident, we would prefer not to rely on racial categories in our admissions process. If there were another path to diversity, we would take it.
Maybe some day there will be. Maybe some day white children and black children will really grow up together, in the same neighborhoods, on the same blocks, at the same schools. I hope that our adversaries will work with us to hasten that day.
But that day is not yet here. And pretending that it has arrived will not make it so. Racial integration does not happen by accident. It only happens when people act, affirmatively, to bring it about.
IV
The
trial in our case took place in the winter of 2001. That summer, I was asked to write an op-ed as part of a pro-
and con- exchange in a journal of higher education called Matrix. By that time I had grown accustomed to
highlighting the attractions of both colorblindness and integration. In that particular op-ed piece, I chose
to do so at the very beginning, using the vocabulary of cognitive dissonance.
The psychological literature on cognitive dissonance is familiar and occasionally startling. Experimental subjects who discover an inconsistency between two beliefs will feel tension. They will sometimes alter those beliefs, disregarding evidence if necessary, to relieve that tension.
The debate about affirmative action triggers cognitive dissonance for many people, forcing them to confront an inconsistency between the following beliefs:
· The very finest institutions of higher education should have more than token levels of racial integration.
· The very finest institutions of higher education should make admissions decisions in a rigidly colorblind manner.
Tension arises because today, at the start of the twenty-first century in the United States of America, it is not possible to achieve more than token levels of racial integration at the very finest institutions of higher education by making admissions decisions in a rigidly colorblind manner.
Why is that? One among the many important reasons is that people of different races still tend to grow up in separate worlds. For hundreds of years, American culture and often American law required children of different races to live separately; only during the past forty years has integration been legally permissible everywhere. Moreover, during the past four decades behavioral change has been slow. Ours is not yet a society where integration happens accidentally.
Nor can we yet say that opportunity is distributed in a colorblind manner. It is not yet true that newborns of all races can be expected to receive equal investments in their preschool, elementary, and secondary education. It therefore should not surprise us that the applicant pool at the highest levels of academic competition is not as diverse as the census shows our nation to be.
It is natural to wish that things were different. To wish that we could be colorblind and integrated, if only universities would try harder, or be more creative, or … But if it were possible, we would have done those things long ago. In truth teachers and admissions officers and regents do not like the choices that reality imposes any more than ordinary citizens or judges do.
And so we must choose: Integration or Colorblindness.
In
the middle portion of the article, I returned to a defense of the manner in
which our policy pursued integration, using the parameters established by
Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke. I tried to be more explicitly than I
had been before about the precise link between legal education and classroom diversity:
By studying law in an integrated environment, our students are better prepared to practice law, to enact laws, and to interpret laws in an integrated society. An outstanding lawyer has an exceptionally well-tuned capacity to engage sympathetically with arguments that are opposed to his or her own beliefs. At the very best law schools, we nurture that capacity. Each day we require students to interact with one another, and to come to understand why – even though they are all extraordinarily bright and articulate – they do not all see the world in the same way. Over the course of three years, they begin to internalize each other’s perspectives, so that they become accustomed to holding several inconsistent perspectives on an issue in their minds at the same time.
At
this point in the public debate about the lawsuit, our critics had begun to
emphasize one seeming paradox about a defense of affirmative action that
stressed the pedagogic benefits of diversity. How could we be confident that affirmative action would
promote more varied perspectives in the classroom without assuming that a
person’s race dictated his or her beliefs? Were we not relying on the very stereotypes that we were
hoping to break down? At the
end of the Matrix article, I
addressed that concern directly:
In America today, an individual’s race has an important impact on his or her life experiences. It does not necessarily determine that person’s ideology or ultimate position on any given policy question. But it is likely to inform the distinctive voice that each of us uses to describe the world we observe. For that reason, a racially diverse classroom tends to offer distinctive benefits for the study of law that are much less likely to be experienced in a more homogeneous classroom.
My experience as a teacher tells me that those benefits are invaluable. And yet I do not mean to suggest that there are no costs to choosing integration over colorblindness. I believe we should all hope for the day when we no longer need to make that choice. But until that day dawns, I also believe we must continue to act, affirmatively, to promote the kind of integrated educational environments through which students are prepared to become sophisticated actors in a diverse, complex society.
V
As
the litigation wound its way through the courts, it came to acquire ever
greater symbolic significance in the public eye. At each stage – during the trial in the district court,
after the district court ruled against us, and especially after the court of
appeals ruled in our favor – it became more and more evident that this would be
the case in which the Supreme Court revisited Bakke. Along with that
progression came an escalation of the rhetoric about the importance of the
case.
Perhaps
not surprisingly, critics of our policy took to describing it (and us) in
exaggerated terms. They
mischaracterized it as a “quota” system, and we were called everything from
“nuts” to “racists.” Just as
distressingly, however, supporters of
our policy also began to exaggerate its significance in the history of racial
progress in America.
When, in April 2003, the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund invited me to be the keynote speaker at its annual awards dinner in Chicago, I had the opportunity to incorporate all of the themes that we had developed over five years of litigation into a single address. I thought it important to begin by warning against the dangers of being excessively grandiose about the case and casting affirmative action in higher education as a significant element in the struggle to right past wrongs.
Affirmative action as
it is practiced in higher education is not an effort to redress history’s
injustices. It is at most a
pragmatic effort by today’s universities to reflect contemporary values and
commitments. Integration is
a motivating ideal, but it is limited by and balanced against other ideals:
It has been suggested that I helped to draft a policy that constitutes an important step in the fight for racial justice in America. And in all humility and in all gratitude to those who have said such things, I want to say that such praise is not appropriate and is potentially dangerous.
…
[O]ur admissions policy is not about corrective action, either in its design or in its effect. It is not about racial justice in that sense.
…
No. Our admissions policy resonates with a very different mix of values. It is individualistic. It is meritocratic. It is self-interested. It is, at its core, pragmatic.
Our admissions policy demands that no applicant, of any race, be offered admission unless he or she has the ability to succeed in an intellectual endeavor that is as demanding as one can find anywhere in higher education. It doesn’t matter how much injustice an applicant has experienced in the course of a lifetime. If she can’t cut it in our classroom – not just some hypothetical classroom, but our classroom – then she will not be admitted.
I
reviewed the by-now-familiar structure of our admissions policy, and discussed
the limited role that a concern for racial integration plays within it.
[O]ur interest in having a critical mass of students from different minority groups can be, and has been, attacked as a timid one. For it is considered in context. It is balanced in the case of individual applicant files against other candidates’ potential contributions to the collective competence of the class. And so we have never in fact had a critical mass of Native Americans in our class. Even though we reject a majority of Native American applicants every year, just as we reject a majority of applicants of all races every year. And the number of African Americans and Latinos in any given class has swung wildly up and down from year to year, depending on the applicant pool.
Only
then did I turn directly to the strongest arguments that were being leveled by
our critics. I tried to frame
those concerns forcefully and sympathetically, and to ground our responses in a
set of widely shared ideals.
So why is CIR so angry with us? Why is it OK for us to take into account whether someone is the child of an alumnus, but not whether the class has a meaningful degree of racial integration? Why is it OK for us to consider the contribution that an applicant’s experience traveling the world might make to collective competence, but not for us to consider the contribution racial diversity might make to collective competence?
To our critics, the point is that race is different. To our critics, the fundamental evil of American history has been race-consciousness as opposed to colorblindness. To our critics, the society as a whole is entirely too race-conscious, and it is our special duty as a public institution to set the right example. If the University of Michigan Law School leads the way to rigid, unflinching colorblindness, say our critics, then the rest of the world will follow. If we fail to set a good example, then our society will continue to wallow in racism.
Having
framed this argument and having conceded its force, I then offered two
responses. The first questioned
the extent to which university admissions policies affect the overall degree of
race consciousness in our society:
[T]he unflinching colorblindness argument reflects a kind of utopian wishful thinking that has no connection with the real world. Would rigid colorblindness in admissions to the University of Michigan Law School really hasten the arrival of a general, society-wide colorblindness? Does the society as a whole really care that much about how we run our admissions process?
My second response was to invoke the need to balance our commitment to colorblindness with our commitment to integration:
[T]he unflinching colorblindness argument … depends upon a naïve and simple vision of the world, in which we have only one goal. But that is not true. Our world is difficult and complex. We have many goals. One of them may be colorblindness. But surely a second goal is integration.
How many newspaper stories have we seen over the past decade, expressing a sense of despair at how slow the progress towards integration has been? How many books have been written lamenting the continuing levels of residential segregation in this country, the hesitancy of people to reach out and form friendships across the color line?
Of course, the reason for the tone of despair is that this really is an ideal that we treasure. We really do know that our nation must continue to integrate if we are to prosper in a global economy. And even though progress has been slow, it has also been steady. We are a more integrated society today than we were in 1964. Indeed, even our harshest critics, people like Stephan and Abigail Thernstrom, and Ward Connerly, have praised the ideal of integration.
At
this point in my talk, I felt it necessary to address an argument that our critics
had begun to advance aggressively in 2002 and 2003. When people experience cognitive dissonance, it is normal
for them to try to find ways to resolve the tension without abandoning either
of their competing allegiances. In
the affirmative action debate, that meant trying to find a way to believe that
one could have both colorblindness and integration. If that were so, one could oppose affirmative action without
opposing integration.
The
mechanism that was suggested at the end of the litigation was the so-called
“percentage plan,” under which a university would commit to admit all
applicants whose high school grades put them within the top 10% of their own
high school class. No such
mechanism had ever been attempted at the level of graduate or professional
schools. And in the undergraduate
programs where it had been attempted (most notably Texas and Florida), the
schools had used race-conscious mechanisms to design supplementary programs in
order to pursue integration. CIR
itself had been critical of those programs, and several scholarly analyses had
shown them to be ineffectual.
Nonetheless, the desire to find a way around choosing between
colorblindness and integration was so powerful that the Solicitor General had
filed an amicus brief suggesting that percentage plans made affirmative action
unnecessary.
I
therefore spent several minutes trying to suggest that this really is an issue
without easy answers, and that progress is not to be found by attempting to
assign blame for the predicament in which we find ourselves:
[H]ere is the simple, unvarnished truth. Today, in the year 2003, in the United States of America, one cannot have a colorblind admissions policy at the most selective American law schools and also have integration. To insist on rigid, unflinching colorblindness is to insist on the absence of any meaningful degree of integration at these schools.
Let me be entirely clear about this. This is not the fault of the law schools. It’s not as though law schools could have both colorblindness and integration by trying harder, by tweaking their admissions policies this way or that way to place more weight on socioeconomic disadvantage, or by doing a little more recruiting and outreach.
Remember where we live today. We live in a country with a terrible history of racial oppression. Where the disparities in wealth by race are enormous. Where children of all races do not sit side by side in school together. Where the differences in quality of K-12 education are well documented.
How can it be a surprise that, at the end of 16 years of education, rigid and unflinching colorblindness by a graduate school fails to produce integration?
At the University of Michigan Law School, we choose to recognize the pedagogic value of integration. We choose a policy that is grounded in the pragmatic realities of American society today. We recognize that if we are to continue to enjoy the societal benefits that come when the nation’s most talented future lawyers study in racially integrated law schools, we must act affirmatively to acknowledge those benefits. We understand that if we foster integration today, we are more likely to reach a colorblind society in the future. But if we insist on rigid, unflinching colorblindness today, our society will become less integrated, not more.
Our approach has been pragmatic, grounded in the desire to graduate a class of students that has the highest degree of collective competence, given the world we actually live in today. If we could produce a class with the same level of collective competence using a colorblind admissions policy, we would do it today. We can’t, and so we engage in affirmative action.
VI
The
Supreme Court’s decision in Grutter v.
Bollinger completes an important chapter in public discussion of
affirmative action. In many ways,
it is appropriately perceived as a direct heir to Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke, a reaffirmation of the principles
already laid down. But in
important ways Grutter was a stunning
contrast to its predecessor.
To begin with, the Court showed none of the fracturing that had plagued the Bakke precedent. A five-Justice majority of the Court signed a single opinion. Quasi-metaphysical debates about what constituted the “narrowest” opinion in a case could (thankfully) be diverted to other areas of the law from affirmative action in university admissions.
The
consensus extended beyond the majority opinion as well. In a separate opinion, Justice Kennedy
seemed to agree that the pursuit of racial diversity could constitute a
compelling interest in a university admissions process; his dissent was limited
to expressing his belief that the Law School’s policy was not “narrowly
tailored” to promote that interest.
And Chief Justice Rehnquist was silent on the compelling interest question,
limiting his dissent to whether the law school’s admissions process was
narrowly tailored to promote that interest.
The
most important elements of Grutter,
however, are to be found in the majority opinion by Justice O’Connor. I will emphasize two of those elements.
The
first concerns Justice O’Connor’s crisp, lucid discussion of what it means to
say that under our Constitution, the use of race as a category triggers “strict
scrutiny.” She wrote:
We are a 'free people whose
institutions are founded upon the doctrine of equality.' It follows from that principle
that 'government may treat people differently because of their race only for
the most compelling reasons.'
We have held that all racial classifications imposed by
government 'must be analyzed by a reviewing court under strict scrutiny.' This means that such classifications
are constitutional only if they are narrowly tailored to further compelling
governmental interests. 'Absent
searching judicial inquiry into the justification for such race‑based
measures,' we have no way to determine what 'classifications are 'benign' or
'remedial' and what classifications are in fact motivated by illegitimate
notions of racial inferiority or simple racial politics.' We apply strict scrutiny to all racial
classifications to ' 'smoke out' illegitimate uses of race by assuring that
[government] is pursuing a goal important enough to warrant use of a highly
suspect tool.'
Strict scrutiny is not 'strict in theory, but fatal in
fact.' Although all governmental
uses of race are subject to strict scrutiny, not all are invalidated by
it. As we have explained, 'whenever the government treats any person
unequally because of his or her race, that person has suffered an injury that
falls squarely within the language and spirit of the Constitution's guarantee
of equal protection.'
But that observation 'says nothing about the ultimate validity of any
particular law; that determination is the job of the court applying strict
scrutiny.' When race‑based
action is necessary to further a compelling governmental interest, such action
does not violate the constitutional guarantee of equal protection so long as
the narrow‑tailoring requirement is also satisfied.
Context matters when reviewing race‑based governmental action
under the Equal Protection Clause.
In Adarand Constructors, Inc. v. Pea, we made clear that strict scrutiny
must take ' 'relevant differences' into account.' Indeed, as we explained, that is its
'fundamental purpose.' Not every
decision influenced by race is equally objectionable and strict scrutiny is
designed to provide a framework for
carefully examining the importance and the sincerity of the reasons advanced
by the governmental decisionmaker for the use of race in that particular
context.
Grutter v. Bollinger, 123 S.Ct. 2325, 2337-38 (emphasis added and citations to prior cases omitted).
The elements in this passage
that I have emphasized are significant for their sensitivity to the close
balance of competing values implicated in the case. Before entering into the close analysis of compelling
interests and narrow tailoring that the Fourteenth Amendment requires, the
opinion lays two important items of groundwork. First, it acknowledges that all uses of race are
injurious. Rather than leaping
directly to an explanation of why the policy in question is legally valid, the
opinion does the important work of saying that the policy employs a tool that
causes real collateral damage, but is, nevertheless,
lawful. Second, in framing the
type of judicial review that such an injurious tool requires, the opinion
affirms that a court must evaluate not only the importance of the a
justification proffered for a government’s use of race as a category, but also
its sincerity. The difficult emotional context that
underlies contemporary American discussions of race can tempt policymakers as
well as private citizens towards expedient but insincere overstatement. Justice O’Connor’s opinion for the
majority reminds us that, where government action is concerned, such
overstatement is not constitutionally acceptable.
The majority opinion then
turns to a discussion of whether the Law School’s pedagogic interest in having
a racially diverse student body is constitutionally “compelling.” The bulk of that discussion consisted
of three points. First, the Court
reaffirms the constitutional basis for showing some (but by no means absolute)
deference to the academic judgment of universities. “We have long recognized that, given the important
purpose of public education and the expansive freedoms of speech and thought
associated with the university environment, universities occupy a special niche
in our constitutional tradition.”
Grutter v. Bollinger, 123 S.Ct. 2325, 2339. Quoting Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke, the majority
reaffirms that,
Ibid
(citations omitted).
Second, the majority speaks approvingly, in its own
voice, of the broad array of evidence that had been presented in support of
that educational judgment:
These benefits are substantial. As the District Court emphasized, the
Law School's admissions policy promotes 'cross‑racial understanding,' helps to
break down racial stereotypes, and 'enables [students] to better understand
persons of different races.' These
benefits are 'important and laudable,' because 'classroom discussion is
livelier, more spirited, and simply more enlightening and interesting' when the
students have 'the greatest possible variety of backgrounds.'
The Law School's claim of a
compelling interest is further bolstered by its amici, who point to the
educational benefits that flow from student body diversity. In addition to the expert studies and
reports entered into evidence at trial, numerous studies show that student body
diversity promotes learning outcomes, and 'better prepares students for an
increasingly diverse workforce and society, and better prepares them as
professionals.' Brief for American
Educational Research Association et al. as Amici Curiae 3; see, e.g., W. Bowen
& D. Bok, The Shape of the River (1998);
Diversity Challenged: Evidence on the
Impact of Affirmative Action (G. Orfield & M. Kurlaender eds. 2001); Compelling Interest: Examining the Evidence
on Racial Dynamics in Colleges and Universities (M. Chang, D. Witt, J.
Jones, & K. Hakuta eds. 2003).
Grutter v. Bollinger, 123 S.Ct. 2325, 2339-40.
These first two points in the
majority’s discussion of a university’s interest in diversity are well crafted
but unsurprising. They closely
track Justice Powell’s discussion in Bakke,
broadening and deepening it to reflect the substantial body of experience that
universities accumulated between 1978 and 2003. The third point, however, was surprising. Borrowing language from a government
brief that had asked the Court to strike down the Law School’s policy, the
majority instead used the government’s argument to extend the constitutional
understanding of diversity to incorporate not only a pedagogic interest but also an interest in democratic legitimacy:
We have repeatedly acknowledged the overriding importance of
preparing students for work and citizenship, describing education as pivotal to
'sustaining our political and cultural heritage' with a fundamental role in
maintaining the fabric of society.
This Court has long recognized that 'education ... is the very
foundation of good citizenship.' For
this reason, the diffusion of knowledge and opportunity through public
institutions of higher education must be accessible
to all individuals regardless of race or ethnicity. The United States, as amicus curiae, affirms that
'[e]nsuring that public institutions are open
and available to all segments of American society, including people of all
races and ethnicities, represents a paramount government objective.' Brief for United States as Amicus
Curiae 13. And, '[n]owhere is the
importance of such openness more acute than in the context of higher
education.' Ibid. Effective
participation by members of all racial and ethnic groups in the civic life
of our Nation is essential if the dream of one Nation, indivisible, is to be
realized.
Moreover, universities, and in particular, law schools,
represent the training ground for a large number of our Nation's leaders. Individuals with law degrees occupy
roughly half the state governorships, more than half the seats in the United
States Senate, and more than a third of the seats in the United States House of
Representatives. See Brief for Association of American Law Schools as Amicus
Curiae 5‑6. The pattern is even
more striking when it comes to highly selective law schools. A handful of these schools accounts for
25 of the 100 United States Senators, 74 United States Courts of Appeals
judges, and nearly 200 of the more than 600 United States District Court
judges. Id., at 6.
Grutter v. Bollinger, 123 S.Ct. 2325, 2340-41 (emphasis added, citations to
prior cases omitted).
Notice the significance of
this discussion. The Court is not
speaking about the way in which students of all races become better educated by
studying in diverse environments.
That was the second point.
Rather, the Court is speaking here about the importance to our society
of having elite educational institutions be visibly
integrated.
Throughout this essay, I have
stressed the importance of acknowledging that affirmative action is a pragmatic
compromise between an appropriate preference for colorblindness and an
appropriate preference for integration.
The majority opinion in Grutter
re-situates our understanding of why a preference for integration is
appropriate in the context of higher education. Under Bakke,
universities were authorized to think about racial integration only to the
extent it has immediate implications for professors’ teaching and students’
learning. Under Grutter, universities may consider the
fact that, if they lack meaningful levels of integration, others may lack
“confidence in the[ir] openness and integrity.” Universities, especially public universities, may consider
their own missions as entailing more than simply the nourishment of student
brains and character. They may
understand themselves as important institutional actors in the sustenance of an
American society that is open to all, in which any young child may find reason
to hope that he or she might have access to the opportunities that this nation
offers, regardless of his or her parents’ race, religion, or wealth.[2]
VII
There might seem to be an
element of paradox in the fact that Justice Powell’s narrower vision of
diversity did not appear to command the same breadth of support on the Court in
1978 as Justice O’Connor’s broader vision did in 2003. After all, no other Justice joined the
portion of Justice Powell’s opinion in which he found universities’ interest in
pedagogic diversity to be “compelling.”
In contrast, four other Justices joined the portion of Justice
O’Connor’s opinion in which she found universities’ interest in diversity to be
compelling both for pedagogic reasons and for reasons of democratic
legitimacy. Yet during the
intervening quarter century, most Americans seem to have become less supportive
of affirmative action rather than more.
One way to resolve that
paradox would be to say that it is illusory. In Bakke four
other Justices had joined Justice Brennan’s opinion, and Justice Brennan’s
analysis had been equally supportive of affirmative action. In a footnote he had seemed to endorse
the same Harvard undergraduate admissions policy that Justice Powell had
endorsed. Indeed, Justice Brennan
had been willing to uphold the Davis quota policy that Justice Powell had not
been able to tolerate.
Yet while this approach to
resolving the paradox will satisfy many, it will not be satisfactory to
all. During the years between Bakke and Grutter, some commentators and some courts were not willing to
infer that the four Justices who joined the Brennan opinion had implicitly
accepted Justice Powell’s diversity analysis. They argued that the Brennan group had found a path to
accepting affirmative action that was not broader than Justice Powell’s, only
different.
And whether or not one accepts this approach, it might still remain a matter of curiosity why, in a case that seemed to cry out for a decision on the narrowest grounds possible, even a single Justice would have been interested in moving from an endorsement of affirmative action based on a narrow understanding of diversity to an endorsement of affirmative action that is based upon a broader understanding of diversity.
I believe that the key
here is to appreciate that, by relying on a broader
conception of diversity, the Grutter
analysis allowed the Court to invoke a narrower
category of exceptions to colorblindness than Justice Powell deployed in Bakke.
Under Justice Powell’s
analysis, the Fourteenth Amendment’s presumptive requirement of colorblindness
could be deemed satisfied whenever a public university could show that a
departure from colorblindness was necessary to achieve a pedagogic goal. That was a conclusion that many had
long found troublesome. No feature
of our national history had led to more strife than its centuries of oppression
and exclusion on the basis of race.
How could something so parochial as a desire to provide better
instruction for students be sufficient to warrant the use of a category so
fraught with danger? After all,
hadn’t some of our most shameful historic practices been undertaken under the
pretense that they would promote better learning for impressionable young
minds?
This concern might be
overstated. Pedagogic
justifications for Jim Crow exclusion were often pretextual rather than
sincere. And even if sincerely
held, they often lacked a credible scientific justification. But even with those caveats, it remains
true that Justice Powell’s understanding of what might make an interest
sufficiently “compelling” to warrant resort to racial classifications has
always felt unsatisfying. Racial
classifications are the nitroglycerine of American history, volatile and
dangerous. Something more than
better teaching feels required if they are to be allowed. In order to depart from colorblindness,
our nation’s public institutions should be pursuing the larger national project
of integration, a project that is at the core of twenty-first century America’s
understanding of itself as democratically legitimate.
Justice Powell’s opinion in Bakke seemed to say that colorblindness
may be sacrificed to a university’s exercise of autonomy, protected under the
First Amendment, that promotes better teaching. Justice O’Connor’s opinion in Grutter does not go so far.
It says only that colorblindness may be sacrificed to an exercise of
university autonomy that promotes both
better teaching and a better integrated system of preparing young people for
life as adults in a meaningfully integrated working environment.[3]
VIII
In their book Tragic
Choices, Guido Calabresi and Philip Bobbitt considered the problems
societies face when they wish to show respect for two incommensurable and
inconsistent ideals but are forced to choose between them. They noted some of the strategies that
are used, including a seemingly inconsistent pattern of favoring one ideal at
one time and the conflicting ideal later.
Poignantly, the majority opinion in Grutter
concludes its analysis with a sentence that signals the Court’s hope that such
a strategy will be available in this context as well: “We expect that 25 years from now, the use of racial
preferences will no longer be necessary to further the interest approved
today.”
Whether or not we are able to
realize that hope, it is clear that the end of the litigation has meant that
the national conversation about affirmative action will enter yet another
phase. That phase will be shaped
in fundamental ways by the Supreme Court’s decision to recognize universities’
interest in assessing how their admissions policies affect their own legitimacy
within our society. The public
discussions of the affirmative action litigation brought attention to many
features of university admissions that can inspire resentment within the larger
society – from early decision processes to preferences for so-called “legacies”
to high tuition rates to reliance on test scores. The interest in ensuring that our important societal
institutions hold a measure of democratic legitimacy will likely promote an
ongoing discussion of how and whether those features serve universities’
institutional missions and meet the needs of our society as a whole.
The litigation about the University
of Michigan’s admissions policies was ultimately important because it
implicated values that shape our national identity. Over the course of the litigation we learned how to speak
with greater clarity about those values, and about the tension between
them. Whether or not the tension
is ever fully resolved, understanding its structure will surely help us to more
intelligently confront the challenges ahead.
* President of Cornell University. I appreciate comments I received on an earlier draft from Evan Caminker and Kathy Okun.
[1] In an early era, some resisted the term “integration,” insisting that they were committed only to a more limited ideal of “desegregation.” I found it striking that no one invoked this distinction to me during the litigation; my sense is that this distinction has lost salience and today there is little public resistance to the ideal of integration.
[2] Elements of the Grutter opinion could be read as suggesting that the state may have a sufficiently compelling interest in the integration of other institutions in society (such as the military) that it may take affirmative steps to achieve that goal. In the case of universities, the institutional interest involved their status as the critical path to leadership and success in America; other situations may require the identification of other interests of comparable significance.
[3] To be clear, I do not mean to imply that Justice Powell himself did not appreciate the connection between integration and democratic legitimacy. I am suggesting only that, because such an appreciation did not manifest itself in the Bakke opinion, universities felt constrained to speak about affirmative action in ways that feel less authentic than the ways they may speak about the subject after Grutter.