Danger in definitions

Sometime in the not-so-distant future, the University of Pennsylvania decided to start strictly enforcing its nondiscrimination policy. Chaos ensued.

For years the institution had been touting its official equal-opportunity statement, which read something like, "The University of Pennsylvania values diversity and seeks talented students, faculty and staff from diverse backgrounds. The University of Pennsylvania does not discriminate on the basis of race, sex, sexual orientation, gender identity, religion," etc.

Initially, implementation of the policy was a well-intentioned effort to prevent bigotry and chauvinism on campus, and as a result the University became one of the most equitable, accepting and diverse organizations of its kind. The policy's wording, however, was ambiguously broad.

Specifically, the precise definition of the word "discriminate" was called into question. For years, many had assumed that the negative connotation of the word was sufficient to relay the University's intended message: Penn did not tolerate the mistreatment of individuals on the basis of their race, sex, sexual orientation and so on. However, that's not what the statement said.

Recognizing the important distinction between "discrimination" and "mistreatment," so-called progressive minds, specifically those of the gender-confused, advocated a more liberal interpretation. Patterning themselves after multiracial advocacy groups on campus, like Check One, supporters of the disgendered called for the abolition of gender-specific campus dorm rooms and bathrooms and the removal of gender-related questions and indices from all University documents.

Their argument was a valid one: Penn had been discerning, or, in other words, "discriminating," between men and women, and therefore the University was not enforcing its own nondiscrimination policy.

The age-old liberal tactic of redefining the meanings of words worked. "Equal opportunity" was misconstrued as strict "equality," and the administration determined that all individuals, whether male or female, should rightly be treated similarly in all circumstances. As a result, the policy written to recognize and protect differences was hijacked and Penn became homogeneously gender-blind.

A regrettable sequence of events followed which, within a relatively short period of time, led to the fall of Philadelphia's tallest ivory tower. "Nondiscrimination" became the University's mantra as the entire institution took on the formidable task of neutering itself.

The first thing to fall was the wall separating the men's and women's locker rooms in Pottruck. The more complicated task was figuring out how to integrate all athletic programs into single, coed teams.

Next, all references to gender were removed from the newly created (and long awaited) University-wide faculty database. Prospective students browsing the catalogue found that all gender-specific pronouns were deleted; if they wanted to read about Dr. Epicene in the Physics Department, they found that "its research has focused on condensed-matter theory."

Within two months, the Penn Women's Center was destroyed, followed by the Carriage House and then DuBois, all of which were deemed no longer necessary since the discriminatory organizations that they housed had all been ejected from campus.

The University's new "Agenda for Ignorance" met the most resistance when Hillel was told to vacate Steinhardt Hall. In a failed attempt to serve arrest warrants on four of the group's noncompliant members (including one who took on the name "John Israel"), Penn Police became engaged in a gun battle that ended only after the president authorized a bomb to be dropped on the building.

In the wake of the 39th Street bombing, Penn emerged as shell of the university it once was. Alumni contributions and student enrollment plummeted. Minority students were no longer recognized or recruited by the University, and Singapore decided to send all of its citizens to be educated at Drexel instead. The Office of Affirmative Action went through five directors in three years, none of whom was able to definitively affirm the definition of the word "discrimination."

The faculty who remained (those who lauded the Agenda) strove to educate their students in an atmosphere of "acceptance and tolerance," despite the University's tainted reputation. They taught their pupils to embrace a new society devoid of all discrimination. Physicians were trained to treat all patients "equitably," regardless of their "age, gender, race, blood type and status as a Vietnam veteran." Mathematics students were told that absolutes really don't exist and so they oughtn't discern between 5 and 6 because that would be very "numberist" of them.

Eventually it was decided that all examinations ought to be banned due to the fact that the very act of taking a test requires discrimination and, in some cases, even prejudice. This move, along with the Office of Admissions' new "100 percent acceptance" policy, temporarily increased enrollment, but as a result Penn lost all accreditation.

Later, when asked to comment on the University's self-induced implosion, one alumnus just shook his head. "I tried to warn them," he said. "'Discrimination' needs to be carefully defined."

Andrew Rennekamp is a first-year Biomedical Ph.D. student from East Stroudsburg, Pa. Any Ice Today Lady? appears on Tuesdays.

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