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Khoa Sands ‘26
Elite academia has been dominated by the question of free speech and free expression over the past year. 2024 has seen the explosion of pro-Palestine campus protests, throwing institutions into disarray. At Harvard, UCLA, Columbia, and other universities, administrators struggled to respond as activists occupied campus and harassed other students. Scenes of chaotic fighting at UCLA were played on televisions across the country.
While Princeton had our own small encampment, we avoided the chaos that beset many of our peer institutions. While the encampment was still deeply wrong – both in its political goals and the means by which they conducted their protest – it was relatively tame. This was not due to a lack of enthusiasm on the issue of Palestine – quite the contrary. Rather, it is a phenomenon that afflicts all aspects of political life on campus. Princetonians seem to be an apathetic bunch if you measure passion by protest. A Daily Princetonian project on activism from last Spring purports to tackle “the timeless question of apathy at Princeton.” Put simply, it’s a known fact that "nothing ever happens at Princeton.”
Why? It is not that the student body at Princeton is more overwhelmingly conservative than peer institutions (despite the outsized presence of conservative institutions on campus) nor that Nassau Hall is uniquely hostile to activism. I believe the answers are far more mundane. Rather than any institutional suppression of ideological homogeneity, Princeton’s compressed schedule and isolated locale are the primary reasons why Princeton remains a relatively uneventful campus.
Princeton has a reputation as one of the more rigorous Ivies. A large part of this is due to our compressed schedule. We have very short 12-week semesters, while the average college semester is around 15 weeks. At Princeton, you simply cannot fall behind. The fast pace of academic life often forces students to choose between academics and activism. This culture of academic rigor is the subject of frequent criticism in the pages ofThe Daily Princetonian often because of its effect on campus activism.
However, what I believe is the largest and most overlooked factor in the lack of activism and protest is the township itself. A college’s culture is deeply influenced by the surrounding locale. Part of the allure of Columbia University is the city of New York, UC Berkeley bleeds into Berkeley and vice versa, and so on. In contrast, Princeton is a small, quiet town with few distractions or opportunities for large-scale engagement beyond campus life. Its secluded nature creates the (in)famous “Orange Bubble”, fostering a campus culture more inwardly focused than that of urban universities. Unlike schools situated in bustling cities, Princeton lacks the external stimuli that might spur student activism—such as protests spilling over from nearby communities, partnerships with local organizations, or the sheer visibility that comes with being in a metropolitan hub.
The subdued environment of Princeton township creates a subdued environment for activism, especially combined with the academic rigor of Princeton. This does not mean Princeton students are less thoughtful or engaged with the world’s pressing issues, it does mean that the campus is less likely to erupt into the kinds of dramatic scenes witnessed at peer institutions. Our unique mix of intensity and isolation ensures that its political life here will continue to diverge from the tumultuous landscapes of other campuses.
This is not a weakness, but a strength of Princeton’s culture. While small college-town life may feel stifling at times, it forces us to focus for these four years before we enter the world with more mature and astute perspectives. We should celebrate our Orange Bubble, where activism can take quieter, more intellectual forms, such as debates, lectures, or written commentary, rather than loud protests or physical occupations. Princeton may seem quiet without the loud ostentatiousness that so often characterizes college life but our campusis lively enough; that dynamism is expressed in the halls of Firestone, the pages of the Prince, and at Eating Club dining halls instead of Cannon Green. It’s not that nothing ever happens in Princeton – you just have to look closely to notice.
Khoa Sands ‘26 is the Editor-in-Chief of the Princeton Tory, the Vice President of the American Whig-Cliosophic Society, and the Vice President of the Princeton Human Forum.
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In April 1995, University maintenance crews spent two days cleaning “walkways, benches, plazas and walls on campus,” working to remove not dirt or debris, but simple sidewalk chalk. The chalk drawings, according to a report from The Daily Princetonian, consisted of “pro-gay messages” written by hand during Pride Week. After the removal, advocates were rightly in uproar. Following the incident, the University, claiming that the discrepancy had transpired because of “cross-office confusion,” clarified its chalking policy — it was henceforth banned, in all cases.
Three decades on, chalk at Princeton has found itself relegated to dusty trays in classrooms and lecture halls. Hardly anyone — students, activists, artists, campus organizations, candidates, schoolchildren — chalks University grounds anymore. Simply put, the University’s ban has worked. But the question remains: Why is Princeton so afraid of chalk?
There is exactly one kind of institution in the world whose product is “thinking” — the university. This is an existential challenge for every university, Princeton most definitely included, now that nearly all artificial intelligence is purpose-built to offload the hard work of thinking.
Universities need to return to the foundations of learning with trust — and verification — at the heart of their relationship with students. They also need to be far more prescriptive about what learning looks like so that students who arrive with limited capacity for deep reading have the time and space to develop their critical thinking skills.
The University has implemented a new limit on the number of Undergraduate Student Government (USG), Graduate Student Government, and Council of the Princeton University Committee (CPUC) student representatives allowed to attend faculty meetings.
In an email to student leaders obtained by The Daily Princetonian, Associate Dean of Undergraduate Students Ian Deas wrote that the new changes will go into effect at the Sept. 14 faculty meeting and each constituency will be able to send a maximum of two observers to a meeting. The Rules and Procedures of the Faculty do not specify the number of observers permitted from the student governments or CPUC.
