At a moment when elite universities are under intense scrutiny for how they handle speech, protest, and ideological conformity, Princeton President Christopher Eisgruber has entered the debate with a defense of the status quo. His new book, “Terms of Respect,” argues that the crisis of free speech on campus has been overstated and that colleges are, in fact, getting it mostly right. The argument is polished, earnest, and in crucial places, deeply evasive.

I have no particular affection for Eisgruber. Still doubt deserves a hearing. In that spirit of restrained generosity, I read “Terms of Respect” with real interest. Would he distinguish himself from the failed presidencies of Claudine Gay, Liz Magill, and Minouche Shafik? Would he say something candid, new, or clarifying about free speech on campus?

Justice Louis Brandeis famously argued that sunlight is the best disinfectant. Eisgruber seems to disagree.

The book is, as expected, careful, lawyerly, and saturated with constitutional doctrine. Eisgruber is a serious scholar and writes like one. His prose is sober, the tone measured, the citations abundant. He spends considerable time walking the reader through legal history before arriving at his central claim: that colleges are not failing at free speech nearly as badly as critics allege. The real problem, he argues, is a broader “civic crisis” afflicting American society.

Free speech, Eisgruber insists, must be understood alongside equality, civility, and respect. Truly constructive speech, he claims, must be both “uncensored and regulated.” Colleges, in his telling, deserve higher marks than they receive.

So far, so plausible.

Then comes chapter four, page 65.

There Eisgruber repeats the long-debunked “very fine people on both sides” libel regarding President Donald Trump’s remarks after the 2017 Charlottesville rally. He cites a New York Times article by Glenn Thrush and Maggie Haberman and reproduces the claim without qualification.

This is not a trivial slip. The full transcript of Trump’s remarks has been publicly available for years. Eisgruber is a constitutional lawyer and university president. He could have made his point without repeating a known falsehood. But apparently the fruit was just too juicy to leave unharvested, so he ventures into the dark land of “lying for justice.”

Why?

The most charitable explanation is tribal comfort. Eisgruber knows that no one within his ideological circle will challenge him for repeating the lie. The same insularity that led Ivy presidents to offer evasive, lawyerly, and absurd testimony before Congress is at work here. Inside the tribe, bureaucratic language suffices. Outside it, in the sunlight, the hubris falls easily to the nemesis of scrutiny.

And Eisgruber is only getting warmed up.

Does he tell the whole truth?

The most consequential failure of “Terms of Respect” is not what Eisgruber says but what he refuses to confront.

Absent from the book is any serious reckoning with the July 4, 2020, Princeton faculty letter — a document signed by roughly 350 professors accusing the university of “rampant” racism and demanding sweeping institutional changes. Among those demands was the creation of a faculty-run “racism tribunal.”

As the Atlantic’s Conor Friedersdorf observed at the time, such a tribunal is inherently incompatible with academic freedom — the very subject of Eisgruber’s book. Friedersdorf contacted signatories and asked them to cite a single instance of “rampant racism” at Princeton over the preceding 15 years. Not one could.

Nevertheless on September 2, 2020, Eisgruber responded by largely capitulating. He validated the accusations, adopted the rhetoric, and opened the gates to the DEI regime now entrenched at Princeton. This was not principled leadership. It was submission under moral intimidation — a textbook example of what psychologists describe as “virtuous victimhood,” a confidence game designed to extract resources by moral threat.

Yet Eisgruber treats this episode as if it never occurred.

That silence is not accidental. It is bureaucratic self-protection.

As literary agent Susan Rabiner has noted, the distinction between lying and withholding the truth is merely technical. Any attempt to cause others to believe something one knows to be untrue is a lie. Eisgruber’s omission of the defining crisis of his presidency is a classic case of lying by omission.

Criticism for thee, not for me

Returning to “Terms of Respect,” we find that Eisgruber does not much care for criticism — especially when it comes from outside the academy. External critics, in his telling, are almost invariably “right-wing.”

He traces this lineage back to William F. Buckley’s “God and Man at Yale” (1951), dismissing it as a “diatribe” that inspired generations of conservative “muckrakers.” He names Campus Reform and the College Fix as exemplars of an “odious strand of pseudojournalism” that ridicules faculty, disproportionately targets women and minorities, and undermines free discourse.

The irony is difficult to miss. Eisgruber decries ridicule while deploying precisely the tactics Saul Alinsky championed in “Rules for Radicals”: personalize, polarize, and delegitimize. He offers exactly one example of this supposed intimidation — nearly a decade old.

Meanwhile he waves away the pervasive ideological capture of higher education as a “myth.”

It is no myth. The evidence is supplied daily by the institutions themselves. Eisgruber either does not know what is happening on his own campus, does not care, or counts himself an ally of the coterie of extremist dullards populating the Princeton bureaucracy now enforcing these programs.

Posturing above the fray

Throughout the book, Eisgruber adopts a posture of measured balance — “on the one hand, on the other.” But the pose does not hold. He speaks the language of civility while excusing coercion. He invokes academic freedom while ignoring its most serious internal threats. He treats accurate reporting on campus excesses as “ugly media frenzies” rather than sunlight.

Justice Louis Brandeis famously argued that sunlight is the best disinfectant. Eisgruber seems to disagree.

In the epilogue, his agenda becomes clearer. Vague invocations of the “shocking rise of white nationalism,” “heartless treatment of undocumented children,” and “anti-LGBTQ+ bigotry” appear, unmoored from specifics and immune to scrutiny. Criticism of his policies is transmuted into moral threat.

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Photo by Kalpak Pathak/Hindustan Times via Getty Images

Does this sanctimony disqualify Eisgruber from expressing it? Of course not. But neither does his status shield his arguments from judgment — especially when they rely on half-truths and conspicuous omissions.

The bureaucrat unmasked

In the end, “Terms of Respect” reveals less about free speech than about its author. Eisgruber is not a radical. He is something more familiar: the consummate bureaucrat — fluent in moral rhetoric, insulated from consequence, and committed above all to preserving the system that empowers him.

He resembles the warden of Shawshank Prison, assuring Andy Dufresne that appeals are pointless while maintaining the fiction of order as the institution decays around him.

Instead of “Terms of Respect,” higher education needs more Brandeisian sunlight — and yes, more of the “ugly media frenzies” that unsettle administrators who prefer darkness to accountability.

If that discomfort troubles the wardens of Shawshank University, so be it.