Mark Zuckerberg is undoubtedly Exeter's best-known alumnus. When I tell people about the school here in South Africa, I mention his connection for immediate recognition. That his fame is turning to infamy should be of concern to those responsible for his moral education.
The Exeter/Facebook connection runs deep. "The Facebook" is the name for the "Photo Address Book." It is the directory with the face of every student, teacher, and administrator on campus. For decades, The Facebook has been a core part of every Exonian's life. It is as central as, say, the phone book in pre-Internet days.
The toxicity of Mark Zuckerberg's brainchild is increasingly unmistakable. Facebook has poisoned public discourse to such a degree that it threatens to bring down the American experiment in self-governance. Growing internal discontent shows how employees find themselves morally compromised implementing Zuckerberg's "values." An advertiser boycott shows that, as one outspoken defector observed, "I’m not alone in being upset about Facebook’s willingness to profit off of hate."
Are the issues with Zuckerberg's company a reflection of his personal values? He has a majority stake in the stock that essentially gives him autocratic power - an extraordinary position for a "public" company. According to Roger McNamee, an early investor/proponent of Facebook "There is a core team of roughly ten people who manage the company, but two people – Zuck and Sheryl Sandberg – are the arbiters of everything.”
Facebook marks a malignant turn to the Internet. The dream we once had has now turned to a nightmare. During the halcyon days of the Dot Com era, I covered the rise of "New Media" for trade publications in the media business. I explained to broadcasters what the upstart Internet might mean. I had an extraordinary beat speaking with visionaries about how this could be a force for good. I was quite aware of the shadow possibilities, too.
Imagine for a moment how different things could be if Zuckerberg's company aimed to serve the public good as its primary goal? What if, instead of this "willingness to profit off of hate," he embraced the values represented by Exeter's motto, Non Sibi. How would such a Facebook operate? It might be run like Wikipedia, a public charity funded by contributions. A core function wouldn't be looking for ways to leverage our personal information for profit. Instead, it would be to encourage civic participation while protecting our privacy. Zuckerberg's Facebook is geared to fueling confirmation bias, deepening polarization and prejudice. What if it sought to expand our horizons by connecting us to people and ideas beyond the narrow confines of the familiar?
Facebook marks a malignant turn to the Internet. The dream we once had has now turned to a nightmare. During the halcyon days of the Dot Com era, I covered the rise of "New Media" for trade publications in the media business. I explained to broadcasters what the upstart Internet might mean. I had an extraordinary beat speaking with visionaries about how this could be a force for good. I was quite aware of the shadow possibilities, too.
Imagine for a moment how different things could be if Zuckerberg's company aimed to serve the public good as its primary goal? What if, instead of this "willingness to profit off of hate," he embraced the values represented by Exeter's motto, Non Sibi. How would such a Facebook operate? It might be run like Wikipedia, a public charity funded by contributions. A core function wouldn't be looking for ways to leverage our personal information for profit. Instead, it would be to encourage civic participation while protecting our privacy. Zuckerberg's Facebook is geared to fueling confirmation bias, deepening polarization and prejudice. What if it sought to expand our horizons by connecting us to people and ideas beyond the narrow confines of the familiar?
But I digress...
Zuckerberg's lifework has become a force for evil, a product and instrument of "knowledge without goodness." But what of his moral education at Exeter?
A Hidden Change
When I arrived on the Exeter faculty in 1991, a dozen years after I had graduated, I didn't realize a fundamental change had occurred. The school's rules for students as written were different from the rules as enforced. My contract stipulated it was my duty to report if I witnessed students breaking major rules. My first year, I had the dubious distinction of turning the most kids for such things. How did that happen? Was it just my luck, or were colleagues looking the other way?
One such incident resolved the conundrum. In the dead of night one evening, I happened to wake up and look out the window towards a student residence across from my dorm. I saw a student leave the building. Being out after hours is a major offense. So I followed protocol. I called security and met them outside. This wasn't anything I wanted. I was sleep deprived, had a class to teach in hours, and a long day to follow. Suddenly I had a major new task tossed on the "to-do" pile. But this was a crucial part of the job. We were there to enforce these boundaries. This point was explicit in my contract.
When the security guard arrived, he surprised me with an unexpected question.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked.
I explained this wasn't about what I wanted. We had a protocol and would follow it. So we called the dean on duty. A search for the missing student went forward. He was confronted for the rule violation when he turned up. Then he faced consequences in the discipline system. That meant I had to invest time in various administrative duties like writing up a report. When all was said and done, the dorm head for the errant student surprised me with a statement as out-of-place as the security officer's question. "Next time, be sure to call me first," he said.
So the rules varied depending on which faculty were involved. In one grotesque instance, a colleague inserted himself into the proceedings inappropriately. For whatever reason, he took it upon himself to attempt to "rescue" the students up for action in a case centering on dishonesty. Suddenly it was about politics and personalities rather than the student's observed behavior. Whatever value that might have been extracted from this experience was lost.
So the rules varied depending on which faculty were involved. In one grotesque instance, a colleague inserted himself into the proceedings inappropriately. For whatever reason, he took it upon himself to attempt to "rescue" the students up for action in a case centering on dishonesty. Suddenly it was about politics and personalities rather than the student's observed behavior. Whatever value that might have been extracted from this experience was lost.
After, I had a few words with colleagues about how this had destroyed a crucial opportunity in our moral education. The massive investment in student and faculty time was wasted - or worse. We taught an immoral lesson. What you do isn't as important as who you know. What could we do to prevent rogue adults from offering such a toxic education again? Rather than discourage this, the particular colleague's mismanagement was legitimized. He was granted official status as an adjunct to a dorm. Of course, he did this again - played favorites regardless of the boundaries. This led to peculiar, demoralizing discipline decisions with unjust outcomes.
What Would John Phillips Do?
A shadow over the Academy |
Phillips think of his part in educating our modern Alcibiades? He founded the Academy just as the American Experiment was getting underway. I'd like to think he'd have shut it down and pursued other interests if he knew his work was destined for this.
After the recent felony arrest of a (newly) former faculty member, maybe people are willing to consider the need for fundamental change. Reading the affidavit, it portrays a school that is simply irresponsible. Forget in loco parentis. They're loco, lousy parents.
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Next, let's have a look at that affidavit and what it reveals about the institutional failures it portrays.
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