Bertrand Russell: A Triumph Over Adversity

Recently, I came across a thought-provoking story while reading a biography of Bertrand Russell.

The story is about Bertrand Russell, a renowned British philosopher, mathematician, and logician, and his appointment crisis in 1940, which eventually turned around in his favor.

In the fall of 1939, two professors from the Philosophy Department of the City College of New York retired, freeing up a significant budget. The college ambitiously aimed to fill this vacancy with a famous philosopher and targeted Russell, who was teaching at the University of California, Los Angeles at the time.

After several rounds of correspondence, they agreed on an annual salary of $8,000 to bring Russell over, $1,000 more than what he earned in California. In the 1930s, the average monthly salary in the US was around $50-$60, making an annual salary of $8,000 quite substantial. For context, Albert Einstein's annual salary when he joined the Institute for Advanced Study in Princeton in 1933 was $16,000.

Once all the important hiring details were agreed upon, Russell resigned from his position at the University of California.

In February of the following year, the governing body of the City College of New York unanimously approved Russell's professorship appointment. This should have smoothly proceeded from there.

However, the appointment news immediately caught the attention of the local Catholic community in New York. Bishop William Manning publicly criticized Russell in newspapers, questioning how anyone concerned about the nation's future could allow such a person, with his views on marriage and sexual freedom, into our colleges. Would you want your children educated by someone who holds such views?

Following this, various religious groups, including the Greater New York Federation of Churches, the International Catholic Truth Society, and the Christian Front, pressured the government. They dug up decades of Russell's criticisms of Christianity, labeling him a devil worshipper, and argued that hiring him at the City College was an insult to Christianity and all mothers in New York.

Support for Russell existed, mainly among students from two schools, who were eager for him to join despite not having met the new professor. Their defenses were largely logical, pointing out that Russell's intended subjects—mathematics, logic, and philosophy—were not the ethical or religious issues criticized by religious groups. Prominent academics, including Einstein, mathematician Hermann Weyl, and philosopher John Dewey (Hu Shi's mentor), also supported Russell.

However, the support from the academic community and students was significantly weaker than the religious groups' influence. In the 1930s, most Americans were Christians, and the stance of church leaders could directly impact election results, a power far beyond that of students and a few academics. The City College's governing board, overseen by New York City voters, faced significant pressure.

For most people, the equation was simple: religion equals morality. Since Russell was anti-religion, he was considered evil. Under pressure, the board agreed to vote again on Russell's appointment. Despite protests, including people filling the hallways with banners and slogans, the board voted 11 to 7 in favor of appointing Russell.

However, religious groups did not give up and immediately sued to revoke Russell's appointment, alleging it was illegal. They presented various "facts" at the hearing, such as Russell and his family participating in a nude parade and his communist affiliations.

The Queen's Borough President threatened to cut the entire City University of New York system's funding if Russell's appointment continued. The court ruled that appointing Russell endangered students' morals and insulted New York's teaching community, emphasizing that academic freedom meant the freedom to do good, not to teach evil views, thus declaring the appointment illegal.

Russell, having resigned from his California position, found himself without an income. His speaking fees and article earnings dried up as media outlets feared associating with his controversial views. Cut off from his income and unable to transfer his savings from England due to the war, Russell described his dire situation in private letters to friends, fearing he might have to risk sending his children back to war-torn England.

Eventually, the Barnes Foundation, an art education institution in Philadelphia, offered Russell a position with a $6,000 annual salary, thanks to philosopher John Dewey's intervention. This position came over a year after he resigned from his previous job, saving him from potentially returning to England.

But the story doesn't end there.

In October 1940, just as Russell began working at the Barnes Foundation, the City College's governing board voted for the third time, deciding not to employ him, effectively finding a way out of the controversy.

That year, Russell published "An Inquiry into Meaning and Truth," stating in the American edition's preface that the book would have formed a significant part of his lectures at the City College. Four years later, his most famous work, "A History of Western Philosophy," was published, largely written during his time at the Barnes Foundation. The City College of New York missed the opportunity to be associated with these achievements and the elevation of its academic standing.

Four years after "A History of Western Philosophy" was published, Russell was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1950 for his advocacy of humanitarian ideals and freedom of thought—a recognition that the City College could have shared.

The story from over eighty years ago does not merely reflect the eternal value of philosophy but demonstrates how valuable ideas survive through tumultuous times. Russell was not shielded by the so-called freedom of speech; instead, he was nearly crushed, with even a judge deeming his appointment illegal and religious groups stepping further to cut off his livelihood, nearly forcing him back to war-ravaged England.

The true savior was the Barnes Foundation. But what backed this foundation? No mysterious force, but the wealth of Albert C. Barnes, a businessman who made his fortune with a medical solution (Argyrol) and wisely invested his earnings, especially before the stock market crash of 1929.

Barnes, passionate about art collection and education, established a museum and believed in its educational purpose, thus welcoming scholars like Dewey and Russell.

Hence, the Barnes Foundation had no supernatural power; it was simply the endeavor of a wealthy individual. Despite the religious groups' influence, they could not overpower the financial independence of such individuals, which enabled the creation of "A History of Western Philosophy" and Russell's Nobel Prize.

This diversity of thought in society does not stem from mutual respect but from the inability to destroy dissenting views entirely, allowing truly vital ideas to survive.

Some may argue that Russell's philosophical ideas and his advocacy for marriage freedom were unrelated and that his troubles came from being too against the mainstream. If he had stuck to mathematics and philosophy, he might not have faced opposition.

However, this is reminiscent of the large-scale protests against the theory of relativity in Berlin in August 1920, involving pure mathematics and physics. Even Nobel Prize winners like Philipp Lenard and Johannes Stark participated, opposing Einstein's relativity on nationalist grounds and threatening him with violence, pressuring the Nobel Committee.

Einstein's escape from Nazi Germany in 1933 and the subsequent patriotic crusade against relativity in Germany demonstrate that opposition to ideas can be vehement and personal, not just based on disagreement with concepts.

Thus, a culture of diverse thoughts relies not on a gentle, courteous society but on the robust independence of individuals and institutions like the Barnes Foundation, which can protect against the whims of the majority or powerful groups.

Russell's mainstream ideas today were once considered radical, supported by the financial backing of private foundations. Churches may influence government decisions through electoral pressures, but they cannot control individual affairs or financial decisions. The more independent individuals and institutions there are, the greater the protection for culture and science.

This concludes today's discussion. See you tomorrow.