The University Without Condition

Derrida’s Insights for Today’s World

It is interesting how the contemporary situation resonates with past philosophical discussions and, to a large extent, with the fears of philosophers as well.

However, this is not to say that things are getting worse. Throughout human history, I do not believe that has been the case. Most people today have a better life than people 2,000 years ago. Still, when something happens, it is important to reflect on its meaning and implications.

Today, I would like to start a reading of Jacques Derrida’s L’université sans condition (2001), translated into English in 2002 as The University Without Condition.

What I propose is a philosophical reading, not a discussion about current events involving the U.S. government and its relationship with universities and research centers. Regardless of whether you support or oppose Trump, you will find food for thought here.

The text known in the English-speaking world as The University Without Condition is an English translation of an inquiry originally designed for a 1998 lecture at Stanford University. The lecture was presented in French under the title: “The Future of the Profession, or the University Without Condition (Thanks to the Humanities, Which Could Happen Tomorrow)” (my translation).

Derrida’s text begins with a declaration of faith in the university and in the future of the humanities. It is important to note that what Derrida saw as the future is most likely our present.

Derrida believes that the university should be free of any conditions. To make sense of this statement, two words must be defined: “university” and “condition.”

Derrida uses the term “university” to refer to the European model that has become common in democratic countries. Easy, right? But what does he mean by “without condition”?

This university demands and should be recognized in principle as having, in addition to what is known as academic freedom, unconditional freedom for questioning and proposing, and even more, the right to publicly express everything that research, knowledge, and thinking about the truth requires. (Derrida, 2001, pp. 11–12)

As Derrida rightly points out, many universities feature the word ‘truth’ in their emblems. This is true of Harvard University, which opted for the Latin equivalent: Veritas. In general, the “university has a commitment to truth. It declares and promises unlimited engagement towards truth” (Derrida, 2001, p. 12).

However, Derrida’s questioning here is not so much about truth itself as it is about the relationship between truth and the question of Man. Such a relationship is the mission of the future of the humanities and can only be developed in a university environment “without condition.”

This university without condition does not exist, in fact, we know that only too well. But in principle and in accordance with its stated vocation, by virtue of its professed essence, it should remain a final place of critical — and more than critical — resistance to all dogmatic and unjust powers of appropriation. (Derrida, 2001, p. 14)

Like any educational institution, a university can be a target for “powers of appropriation.” Controlling universities means controlling an important part of educational and research institutions. This is why governments, whether in Europe, the U.S., or Asia, may want to control them. This is also why universities should be places of freedom that reject all dogmatism.

Moreover, Derrida call for a critical attitude is basically a call for “deconstruction.” It is an

unconditional right to ask critical questions not only about the history of the concept of Man, but also about the history of the very notion of criticism, about the form and authority of the question, and about the interrogative form of thought. (Derrida, 2001, pp. 14–15)

However, this questioning and deconstruction are not merely about interrogating something outside the university. Derrida’s call is for “Humanities capable of taking on the task of deconstruction, starting with their own history and axioms” (p.15). The French philosopher adds:

Consequence of this thesis: unconditional, such resistance could oppose the university to a large number of powers: to state powers (and therefore to the political powers of the nation-state and its fantasy of indivisible sovereignty: in which case the university would be not only cosmopolitan but universal, extending beyond global citizenship and the nation-state in general), economic powers (concentrations of national and international capital), power in the media, ideological, religious, and cultural powers, etc., in short, all powers that limit the democracy of the future. (Derrida, 2001, p. 16)

Derrida believed that the new humanities should have a continuous presence in public spaces. Following this line of thinking, even if he does not propose it, the term ‘public humanities’ could be used in a similar way to the way philosophers use the term ‘public philosophy’.

Given that the meaning of the expression “university without condition” may be ambiguous or misunderstood, he writes:

I say “the university” because I am making a stricto sensu distinction between the university and all research institutions that serve economic ends and interests of all kinds, without being recognized as having the fundamental independence of the university. And I say “without condition” as well as “unconditional” to imply the connotation of ‘powerless’ or “defenseless”: because it is absolutely independent, the university is also an exposed citadel. It is offered, it remains to be taken, often doomed to surrender unconditionally. Wherever it goes, it is ready to surrender. Because it does not accept conditions being imposed on it, it is sometimes forced, drained, abstract, to surrender unconditionally. (Derrida, 2001, pp. 18–19)

Thus, Derrida is calling for ideal conditions. These conditions have never truly existed before. They have yet to be realized. Furthermore, it cannot be easy since an open university is vulnerable to threats and considered easily constrainable.

According to Derrida, universities often sell themselves to interests that should not be involved in their decision-making processes. Universities sell their freedom in exchange for funding, materials, and collaborations.

Nowadays, in the United States and around the world, this is a major political issue: to what extent should research and education be supported, i.e., directly or indirectly controlled, or to put it euphemistically, “sponsored,” for commercial and industrial interests? In this context, as we know, the humanities are often held hostage by pure or applied science departments, which attract investments from sources outside academia that are considered profitable. (Derrida, 2001, p. 19)

The issue is twofold. First, there is the question of external control of a higher education institution, which goes against the purpose of the university. Second, there is the question of the disruption that the introduction of private funding causes. Companies are more likely to invest in sectors that are expected to generate financial or technological returns. The humanities easily appear to be an unproductive part of a university. This part is considered not to contribute much, and it can easily lose some of its power and influence.

It is interesting to see what Derrida suspected as a risk become a reality for us. Private funding introduces a new kind of economic evaluation to research. Pure and applied sciences receive the majority of private funding and demonstrate concrete, measurable efficiency in this regard. They can also expect far higher returns than any field in the humanities.

In a world that promotes wealth as a human value, the long-standing privilege of the humanities — educating people for the future — has become, in the eyes of many, an increasingly unproductive task. Some politicians and university administrators would like to reduce or eliminate it.

---

Your sponsorship means everything. Consider becoming a paid subscriber. You will get access to all my paywalled articles and support my Substack.