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In September, Harvard College Dean David J. Deming condemned the killing of Charlie Kirk and vowed to protect conservatives on campus. He insinuated Kirk’s speech could be used as a model for Harvard, praising his way of interacting with those with whom he disagreed.

But Kirk’s — and Harvard’s — conception of discourse is missing one key factor: a moral compass. Kirk’s language was inflammatory at best and dangerous at worst. He spread hateful rhetoric and misinformation with seemingly little care or concern for who he hurt in the process. He was, by no means, a model for respectful, productive discourse.

Deming chose to do more than memorialize Kirk as a figure — he memorialized his incendiary style of rhetoric, a complete reversal of the College’s supposed mission of advancing empathy and equity. The incident is one in a long line that makes a central problem clear: Harvard cannot agree on its own core values.

It’s no secret that, despite winning in court, Harvard has quietly acquiesced to the Trump administration’s demands on DEI. Thus far, Harvard has discontinued funding for affinity graduations, removed two professors’ Black Lives Matter banner, and followed the lead of major corporations in terminating some of its own equal opportunity initiatives. It seems that Harvard is unwilling to defend its programs — ironically, designed to condemn hate and combat racism — against baseless accusations of fomenting hate and furthering racism.

In public, the University has committed itself to opposing Trump’s attack on higher education. In private, the University is following his lead. Either the school is abandoning its own moral compass or suffering from the lack of one altogether.

Contrast this picture with that of five years ago. In the wake of the killing of George Floyd, Harvard was in full support of all things DEI. Multiple departments vowed to dismantle systemic racism and promised adherence to anti-racist principles. Former Harvard President Lawrence S. Bacow appointed outside experts to review allegations of discriminatory practices in HUPD with the aim of addressing racial injustice. Some Harvard scientists even stopped work for a day to engage with the growing racial justice movement.

These actions — however performative or inconsequential — are virtually unthinkable now. If Harvard won’t even allow a Black Lives Matter banner to remain displayed in the Northwest Building window, it begs the question: Was Harvard ever even committed to the movement in the first place? Or are all of the University’s positions motivated by ever-shifting political winds as opposed to real values?

Moreover, consider Harvard’s response to pro-Palestine activism. Mere months after protests began, the University completely reinterpreted its over 50-year-old University-wide Statement on Rights and Responsibilities, the policy governing campus protest. After students set up encampments on the Yard in support of Palestine, Harvard issued a new set of rules and regulations further restricting protest. Despite avoiding a ban on organizing outright, Harvard effectively silenced speech with which it appeared to disagree. Students were initially placed on probation or suspended (many such decisions were later recanted) for actions that might not have placed them in jeopardy a mere decade ago.

Alongside protest restrictions, Harvard recently adopted a new definition of antisemitism to include some forms of criticism of Israel. The decision was delivered as part of a settlement on a lawsuit, marking the change as more a legal concession than a substantive evolution in the school’s ideology. Harvard constantly defines and redefines discrimination again and again to fit its own needs, rather than the people it supposedly serves or the justice it claims to create.

Moreover, the more policies and definitions that Harvard adopts, the less credibility each one has. When new rules are crafted and old ones revised to fit the current political climate, it only reveals how empty the sentiment behind them was in the first place. How can we place our trust in an institution that could throw us under the bus at any moment?

We populate Harvard’s classes, clubs, and sports teams. If the University is not guided by articulatable moral principles and is willing to upend student life to fit its own interests and desires, how can we be certain that we will be supported, that our organizations will remain in place, that our administration will protect us from harm?

Harvard could have remained steadfast in the fight for a brighter future, but instead chose to prove its own intellectual fragility. It caved to the current political moment, rapidly reorienting its beliefs to best serve its own financial interests — more emblematic of a business desperate to remain afloat than an educational institution responsible for some of the most important intellectual advancements of the past centuries.

Building true intellectual discourse at Harvard demands more than respectful speech or viewpoint diversity — it must be grounded in history and guided by empathy. Most importantly, it should center a core belief: creating a more equal, more just world. That principle should never be a political sacrifice.

Sylvia A. Langer ’28, a Crimson Editorial editor, lives in Currier House.