Harvard, by its own account, is home to world-class faculty — scholars whose expertise gives students access to some of the most refined and developed perspectives in academia.

Yet on a podcast last month, University President Alan M. Garber ’76 suggested that professors’ personal viewpoints ought to be kept out of the classroom.

Garber advocated for an “objective” approach to teaching, suggesting that professors should present all sides of an issue fairly and comprehensively without promoting their own views. The crux of his worry appears to be twofold: both that professors risk “elevating” their own beliefs by declaring them in the classroom, and that few students will be willing to go “toe to toe” with professors about their stated beliefs.

Both of Garber’s premises miss the mark on the issue — his vision of objective teaching overlooks the educational value a professor’s insight can hold, and his statements on students’ unwillingness also misplace the blame for the problem.

Put simply, if students are unwilling to engage with faculty, that is a problem they must fix themselves.

There is an element of truth in Garber’s comments: For professors to treat their views as unchallengeable dogma would be a pedagogical failure. The ideologically tyrannical professor, though, has not been my experience. In any case, quality teaching involves judgment, and we should be trusted to benefit from hearing our instructors’ views.

When a professor offers their perspective, students can see how an expert in a field thinks through an issue, how their arguments are structured, and often gain new ways to analyze sources. Good professors will then invite disagreement with their views, challenging students to contemplate and present thoughtful questions and objections.

Some of my most enriching academic experiences have been discussing and hearing classmates debate a professor’s own scholarship. That these positive experiences are possible shows that professors can present and engage with their own beliefs faithfully without “elevating” them to some higher plane of truth. In an enriching discussion, a faculty member may themself learn something new.

Indeed, for the sake of its own mission, Harvard should want its faculty to express their viewpoints. Garber seems to agree — during the podcast, he claims that Harvard’s mission of academic excellence requires being capable of speaking with and “freely hearing” each other. He balks, though, at applying this to student-faculty relationships, pointing to students’ hesitation as reason to limit faculty expression in the classroom.

You can’t have both, unless intellectual vitality is meant to stop at the classroom door. For all involved, binding expertise to the ideal of neutrality constricts the possibilities for meaningful learning.

Just as Harvard should expect its faculty to present their beliefs fairly, it should expect its students to have the courage to engage with those beliefs. I’ve written before about how the onus of finding the fortitude to share one’s beliefs falls on students.

If professors allow dissent to their views, students have the responsibility to take them up on it. Both well-reasoned disagreements and simple curiosity can provide educational value to classmates, faculty, and oneself. And though this disagreement can be intimidating, its pedagogical worth provides enough of a reason to preserve it.

If faculty members are unwilling to have open discussions, that is a problem to be addressed with the faculty. But the University’s data suggests that it is fear of other students’ reactions, more than professors, that makes students feel uncomfortable expressing their views. Having faculty self-censor, as Garber seemed to advise, would do little to solve that.

Even for those who share Garber’s convictions, there is a question of how objective faculty can be to begin with.

There is not enough time in a semester to be truly comprehensive — crafting a syllabus requires subjective judgment on which texts and perspectives provide more educational value than others. It is highly unlikely that two professors, even if trying to be as objective as possible, would teach a single text, let alone a semester-long course, the exact same way.

There is an inherent subjectivity in just relaying information — a game of telephone can teach someone that. This rings much truer when characterizing historical patterns, social phenomena, or other complex topics whose presentation invites varied, contested interpretation. We should encourage our faculty to be forthright and open about their perspectives rather than forcing them behind a veneer of objectivity when there is little objectivity to be had.

Allowing faculty to establish their standpoint not only allows them to engage with students freely, but also makes clear to students the essential context of why they are being taught a certain way.

Personal perspectives will enter education one way or another. At the very least, we ought to be honest about it.

I came to Harvard, in large part, to learn from academia’s leading minds and to hear what they have to say. I trust our faculty to be scholarly and fair in their views, and I trust myself and my peers to listen critically and be able to forge new perspectives from disagreement.

I hope President Garber trusts us, too.

Adam N. Chiocco ‘27, an Associate Editorial editor, is a Philosophy concentrator in Pforzheimer House.