UNLV Cancelled Finals Because of a Shooting. It Shouldn't Have.
We need more toughness in the face of tragedy.
On December 6, a crazed gunman—a rejected applicant for a professorship at the University of Nevada Las Vegas—murdered three professors at the university in what appears to be a revenge shooting for not getting hired.
It was a disgusting and tragic act. I feel sympathy for the families and friends of the victims who were murdered.
That said, two days ago, the President of UNLV, Keith E. Whitfield, cancelled all in-person finals for the whole university. That was the wrong response.
UNLV has 26,000 resident students on a 350 acre campus. Most students were not present when the shooting took place, nor do they know the individuals affected. The idea that an institution of this size should cancel its operations because of this tragedy is preposterous.
Hillsdale city has a third of the population of UNLV. Last month, a young man was killed while driving a dump truck for his job. It was a terrible and tragic accident. Even so, the whole town went to work the next day.
Human life is filled with tragedy. Every single human being is going to die. All of us are headed toward a decisive and final end that no amount of effort, wishing, or crying will avert.
In light of that morbid reality each and every one of us faces a choice—how will we live? Will we exert ourselves toward higher purpose in the face of Death or will we succumb to it and give up on life?
By cancelling finals, UNLV’s President, Provost, and Board are indicating that they doesn’t really care about education. They don’t think it is important. That is why they decided to shut down the entire university because of one tragedy.
Why not simply abolish the college entirely? Every single UNLV student who has ever lived will one day die, many in terrible and sad ways. Why not get all the weeping and moping out of the way now and simply dissolve the institution? Put all the flags at half-mast then shutter the place.
Since COVID, I’ve noticed a growing willingness of institutions to simply cease functioning. The mildest inconvenience will cause them to implode and give up on their core purpose. Earlier this year, for instance, the local schools here in Hillsdale cancelled classes because it was over 90 degrees outside. Last year, they cancelled school because of a cyberattack.
Call me a hard ass but I remember going to school when classrooms didn’t have computers in them at all and it was over a hundred degrees! I didn’t think that was heroic then and I still don’t.
This willingness to cancel ordinary life over personal tragedies and minor inconveniences is a sign of a deeper spiritual sickness. Tens of millions of Americans have absorbed the COVID propaganda and decided that they are “non-essential workers.” In fact, they have extended that logic even further, deciding that not only their work but their lives are non-essential.
They have lost the toughness required just to wake up in the morning and go to work, even when bad things only remotely affect them.
I am not saying that people directly suffering profound tragedy and loss should just suck it up and grind away. There are reasons to stop one’s work due to grave afflictions. I firmly believe there are reasons to mourn, to grieve, and to weep. BUT, unless we are going to give up on life and embrace the void, we, as human beings, have reason, at a certain point, to stop mourning, to stop grieving, and to stop weeping.
I believe the work I do is essential. It is so essential that I will do everything in my power to return to it, even in the face of loss. If I were diagnosed with terminal cancer tomorrow, I would do everything in my power to finish my dissertation. I believe that liberal education is important and valuable. So important, in fact, that I have given my entire adult life to study, reflection, and debate. Changing the date of my death from decades to months away would not change my fundamental commitment to my work.
My most valued and important teachers are decades older than myself. It is very likely that they will pass away while I am still alive. It would be impious of me to mourn them so deeply that I would give up on education and learning—the very tasks to which they gave their lives.
There is a time and place for all things. To ignore the seriousness of tragedy is cruelty. To let it consume one’s life and purpose is cowardice. We should avoid both extremes. In our own time, however, the tendency is toward cowardice and implosion. Therefore, we must emphasize toughness as the antidote.
I have an easy rule of thumb for colleges thinking about cancelling classes or changing their ordinary schedule because of events: if the blue collar support staff are expected to do their jobs in the midst of the given event then students and faculty need to work too.
In Keith Whitfield’s letter to UNLV over the shooting, he mentions that:
Some staff may be asked to work from the office depending on their job function, and as we evaluate continuing campus operations. Please check with your supervisor for further guidance.
Whoop there it is: ordinary work is only being cancelled for the students and faculty. If the grounds crew is expected to keep mowing lawns and the maintenance people are still expected to keep the lights on, then students can take their finals.
The same rule applies to society as a whole. We should treat every worker as an essential worker. We should act like what we do with our lives matters. We need to stop treating every bad thing that happens like a nationwide emergency. We need to buck up.
This is a perfect example of the snowflake culture we now live in. It is pathetic.