Photo by Inder Wadhwa |
It has been interesting to read responses to a recent post that
praised the idea—being promoted by some North State residents piggy-backing
on a bill introduced by Assemblyman Mike Gatto—of opening a new University
of California campus in Redding.
Responses combined enthusiasm, cynicism, and skepticism.
No one was hostile outright to the idea, but a number of people,
both in relation to my post, and to early
reporting on Gatto’s bill, suggested either that our priorities should be
elsewhere, that a new campus somehow wouldn’t achieve its mission, or that UC
should be consolidating rather than expanding.
In a world where societies and polities were incapable of
chewing gum and walking at the same time, I would agree in principle with many
of these criticisms.
Yes, if we could only do one thing for UC, I would say that
building-up the campus at Merced should take priority over the construction of
a new campus. If we lived in an
impoverished state without the capacity to invest or build, I would agree that expanding
UC wouldn’t make much sense. And if the
only purpose of building a branch of a research-intensive university in the
North State was to serve the needs of the local student population, I might be
inclined to agree that such students could get the same education—and better
exposure to the wider world—if they departed for campuses in the Bay Area,
Southern California, or the lower reaches of the Central Valley.
But we can, if we choose, walk and chew gum at the same time,
and the construction of a new University of California campus in Redding is
something more than classroom for North State students—in many respects, our
ability to build such a campus in the twenty-first century is an indicator of
the health of our society and our democracy, and a test of whether we can, any
longer, envision what it means to invest in the future.
Most
opponents of a UC Redding will cite the cost, as though building a new
University in the state with Hollywood, Silicon Valley, and an affluent upper
middle class is outrageous. But think
about what Californians have done before in their state. In earlier generations, Californians created
the Sacramento Delta, a massive engineering feat. They constructed roads up and down and across
the third largest state in the Union.
They build ten main campuses of the UC system and one of the world’s
foremost medical schools in San Francisco, over 20 campuses in the California
State University system, and scores of California Community Colleges. We maintain countless elementary, middle- and
high schools up and down the state.
Californians
move water and power all around the state to supply the needs of its
inhabitants. They have protected vast
areas of the state and scenic and recreational areas, and built a massive
metropolis in Southern California where, frankly, no city of any size had any
business existing from an ecological perspective.
Those
things cost money. But Californians
recognized that investing in infrastructure, in the management of natural
resources, in higher education, and in K-12 education, and in the creation of
habitable living spaces would pay off.
Yes,
constructing a new University of California campus in Northern California would
cost a great deal of money. But it’s a
drop in the bucket for a state of California’s size and wealth.
What
is unrealistic is this kind of project in California’s current political
environment.
Many
students find it difficult to attend Merced, and might think twice before
attending an un-tested campus in Redding because of the astonishingly high
tuition that UC currently demands of students.
Those students able and willing to pay for such an education or take on
huge debt are likely to attend one of the larger, better-known, and so-far more
prestigious campuses.
Californians
only have themselves to blame for this state of affairs.
Voters
have steadily impoverished UC over the years, falling revenue and increased
responsibilities having forced the University to tap into students for much of
the necessary funding in the form of tuition.
Previously, the public at large, through sales, property, income and
other taxes would have pitched in to pay for the education of future
generations who, in turn, would have shouldered the burden for the next
generation of students.
And
there are administrators at UC who see an opportunity in much-degraded public
support for Californians’ University.
Eager to pursue privatization, and transform UC into a business catering
to customers rather than an institution of learning educating students, some
administrators have shrugged off falling public support, and pursue higher tuition
and private funding sources, in spite of the fact that the former compromises
UC’s public mission and the latter compromises the integrity of its research
endeavours.
To
build UC Redding, to fill UC Merced, and to make UC a realistic proposition for
California’s students, the state needs to reform its political structure in a
way that makes it possible to reclaim UC for Californians from the
corporate-minded administrators who would change its character.
The
state should increase its funding for the institution dramatically (funding has
been cut drastically over the years, even as more and more students have
entered the system), building the new campus, and bringing down the obscene
tuition that, even with generous financial aid packages, remains a formidable
barrier to students, particularly the student populations surrounding Merced
and our hypothetical Redding campus.
The
future leaders, scientists, educators, engineers, labourers, and thinkers of
the state should not have to gamble with enormous student debt for an education
that in many other countries is more akin to a right for the qualified than the
“privilege” of the elite it is in danger of becoming in the U.S.
To
increase revenue, Californians would have to modify their tax structure, too
dependent on the marginal incomes of top earners, and therefore fluctuating
with the economic fortunes of the state’s highest earners. This means tackling Proposition 13, the
source of two ills in our state.
Firstly,
Prop 13 requires a supermajority to raise taxes. This is undemocratic and wrong—a mere
majority is required to lower taxes. And
in a state growing in population and in demographic complexity, this
undemocratic supermajority requirement has put the state on a de facto
autopilot course towards austerity, a policy approach that hurts the working
and middle class, while leaving the rich, who can send their kids to private
schools, private universities, and get the most expensive medical care in their
parallel universe, comparatively unaffected.
Secondly,
Prop 13 takes property taxes—in many successful states, a key source of
flexibility in managing revenue streams—off the table by fixing increases,
failing to distinguish between individual homeowners and corporate
property-owners, and allowing successive generations to pay protected tax rates
without reference to their need for special protections.
Revisiting
Prop 13—and some facets of California’s initiative system in general—doesn’t
mean piling new burdens onto the working class.
It means ensuring that those with wealth are unable to dodge their
responsibilities, that inherited wealth isn’t protected, that a majority of our
citizens can make decisions about taxing and spending, and yes, sometimes that
many Californians might have to pay a little more, in the realizing that they
will save later, when those investments pay off.
The
construction of a UC Redding is therefore contingent on our state’s
population—including the traditionally-conservative population in the North
State who would benefit most directly from it—re-thinking the relationship
between the individual and society, a relationship which has been corroded in
recent years by deep cynicism, structural ills in our politics, and
pledge-taking, oath-swearing representatives who have committed themselves to
absurdly inflexible voting regimens, irrespective of the needs of their
constituents, their communities, and their regions.
Building
a UC campus in the North State would be about a number of things.
It
would be about proving that as a state community, Californians are still
capable of walking and chewing gum, of recognizing the needs of their state and
acting on that recognition.
It
would be about a reclamation of the public character of UC for the state’s
youth from the damage done by decades of divestment by Californians and the cynical
maneuvers of administrators and politicians ranging from Ronald Reagan to Jerry
Brown.
It
would be about providing a point of access for students and community members
in the North State to the wider world, in cultural, economic, social, and political
terms. The region’s politics, stoked by
cynical and hypocritical representatives, is deeply cynical, and the public
there feels a strong sense of alienation from California’s wider civic project.
Residents
already have access to the same public goods enjoyed by other Californians, but
geography, larger economic shifts, and manipulative political representation
mean that the region is poor, that its residents face significant economic
hurdles, and that California’s civic institutions can feel distant and removed.
Clark
Kerr, perhaps UC’s most visionary leader, once declared that “When the borders
of our campus are the boundaries of our state, the lines dividing what is
internal from what is external become quite blurred; taking the campus to the
state brings the state to the campus”.
Constructing
a UC Redding would blur those lines in more ways than one, reinvigorating both
the North State in particular, and reaffirming Californians’ capacity to
imagine and build in a manner commensurate with its population and
potential.