I’m an Assistant Professor at Columbia Business School

And I’m a father, a husband, an uncle, and a son. I am a forty-year-old man, but last week I found myself crying in front of a group of complete strangers.

In a video that has since gone viral, I stood on Columbia University’s main campus.

• I pleaded with my employer to protect me and help me.
• I asked for protection for thousands of Jewish students from pro-terror organizations. These openly laud Hamas, an internationally recognized terrorist organization.
• I pleaded with the presidents of colleges and universities all around the country. And asked them to take a clear moral stance. I asked them to stand against rape and torture and the kidnapping of helpless civilians.
• I pleaded with colleges and universities to live up to their stated mission. They claim a belief in humanism and enlightenment. I still plead with them. Because the silence of college presidents all across the country, is deafening.
• I am not tenured. I can be fired for this.

My research into behavioral psychology has taught me one thing. Looking back on my life, I’m more likely to regret not taking a stance. I can’t afford not to take a stance.

• Not when students’ lives are on the line.
• Not when my children’s lives are on the line.

My children may be American citizens, but, through their mother and me, they are Israelis, too. And because they are Israelis, because they are Jews, I fear for them.

• I fear for my two-year-old daughter, who’s funny and brave and thinks everyone in the world is her friend.
• I fear for my seven-year-old son, who still asks me to sit next to his bed for a few minutes every night when I tuck him into bed.
• I fear because of student organizations on my own campus. They see my beautiful children as legitimate targets.
• I fear because the president of my university, refuses to speak up against such senseless violence and hatred.

Let’s call this what it is. It’s cowardice.

I see my son’s and daughter’s faces in the faces of the hundreds of innocents. Children, and teenagers, murdered, tortured, raped, brutalized, and kidnapped on October 7th. Hamas and its supporters, see children as acceptable targets.

It’s happening in colleges and universities all across the country. Hundreds of pro-terror student organizations celebrate these vile crimes against humanity.

• This is what the president of Columbia refuses to condemn.
• This is what the president of Harvard refuses to condemn.
• This is what the presidents of Yale, NYU, and UC Berkeley refuse to condemn.

And many other “enlightened” institutions throughout the country also refuse to condemn.

• They’d never allow student organizations to celebrate the horrific attacks of 9/11.
• They’d never allow student organizations to celebrate the horrific murder of George Floyd.
• They’d never allow student organizations to celebrate mass shootings. Example of more than 100 LGBTQ+ people in an Orlando nightclub on June 12, 2016.
• Yet, when it comes to Jewish lives, when it comes to my own children’s lives, they couldn’t care less.

Let me be clear:

• This is not about being pro-Israel or pro-Palestine.
• It’s a clear distinction between legitimate resistance and unspeakable crimes against humanity.

This is about human decency.

• You can support the rights of millions of innocent Palestinians. And you can still take a moral stance against heinous violence and brutality. I know, because I do.
• You can advocate for a prosperous Palestinian state beside a prosperous Israeli state. While you draw the line at rape. I know, because I do.
• You can be a lefty and a softy who can’t fathom why we don’t end this senseless cycle of violence. And you can also shout that shooting babies in their cribs and burning their corpses is plain evil. I know, because I am and I do.
• You can be pro-Israel and pro-Palestine and anti-terror. I know, because I am.

Parents from all across the country have reached out to me in the past week asking if their kids are safe.

Thousands of parents lose sleep. They want to ensure their children safe. Because they see campuses rampaged by extremist organizations. Those openly celebrate and encourage terrorism.

To all those parents, I reply:

• No. Your children are not safe.
• As a professor, I tell you, universities prefer to appease pro-terror campus coalitions. They see it as more important than caring for Jewish students.
• As a professor, I tell you, university presidents are more concerned with bad press. And they are less concerned with getting your kids home safely.

What type of education does your child get at such a place? One that refuses to condemn terror-sympathizing organizations. A univeristy that allows such organizations to roam freely on campus? One that provides a platform to celebrate the execution of infants in their cribs?

• The raping of teenagers?
• The kidnapping of toddlers?

The moral and intellectual bankruptcy of universities throughout the country is now undeniable. But I know, if we all work together we can make a real difference.

This is not about me. I’m not some leader. I’m just a dad.

I’m a scared dad, willing to put EVERYTHING on the line to protect my children.

Many of you reached out in the last few days, and your messages have brought me immense light in a very dark time.

I am so inspired by the stories people have been sending me. People tell me about committees they formed and PTAs they’ve joined. They call politicians and TV and radio shows. They demand their voices be heard.

People also write to me about canceling their annual donations to alma maters. They demand a clear stance against those who celebrate pure evil.

 

Columbia University, Campus Hate & the Fight for Open Debate

September, 2024

Columbia University may look calmer at first glance. The lawn once occupied by an illegal encampment is back to being a place where students play Frisbee. The campus is tightly controlled. Identification is checked. Public safety officers are everywhere.

But calm is not the same thing as safety. And quiet is not the same thing as change.

At Columbia University, the visible crowd may be smaller, the trendy keffiyehs may be less common, and the loudest protests may not be happening every day. Still, the underlying structure of hostility toward Israelis, Jews, and America has not simply disappeared. It has gone underground.

It is easier to fight an enemy you can see than one that is hiding.

That is the real concern heading into a new semester. The question is not only whether Columbia University feels more orderly. The question is whether the institution has confronted the ideas, incentives, and failures that made last year possible.

A Campus That Looks Normal, But Does Not Feel Normal

There is an odd reality at Columbia University right now. In some ways, it feels like a college campus again. Students move between classes. The grass is open. The physical space that had been labeled a “liberated zone” is no longer controlled by protesters.

Yet the campus is operating with an extraordinary level of security. People must show photo identification before entering. Access is limited to those affiliated with the university. Columbia University has, in effect, become closed to the public because of fears surrounding extremist activity and terrorist sympathizers.

That is a painful irony. Israeli universities commonly limit public entry because they are concerned about terrorism. Columbia University is now using similar measures because it is concerned about people who sympathize with terrorism.

A university should be a place for learning, not a place that needs to resemble a secured compound.

The reduction in overt protest activity should not be mistaken for a resolution. The people who were wearing symbols of political resistance as a fashion statement may have moved on. But dedicated activists remain. More importantly, the ideology that fueled the hostility remains present in classrooms, departments, student organizations, and university governance.

At Columbia University, examples have continued to emerge:

• Protests disrupted Hillary Clinton’s teaching at the School of International and Public Affairs.
• Political activism surfaced in settings unrelated to the topic being taught, including at the School of Social Work.
• A doctoral student associated with the takeover of a university building has taught a course on Western civilization while publicly calling for the downfall of the American empire.
• Professor Joseph Massad, who expressed jubilation over the October 7 massacre, has remained in his teaching role.

None of these examples stands alone. Together, they point to a deeper issue at Columbia University: hostility is not merely a spontaneous student phenomenon. It is supported by an ecosystem that has normalized extreme views and protected people who promote them.

Terror Is More Than Violence

We often think of terrorism only as a specific act: a bombing, a stabbing, a shooting, a kidnapping, or a massacre. Those acts matter. They are horrific. But terrorism is also an ideology built around one central goal: terrorizing people.

Terrorists do not need to kill every Jew, every Israeli, or every American. They only need to harm enough people, in unpredictable enough ways, to create fear across an entire community.

The goal is not only violence. The goal is to make people wonder what will happen next.

That same mechanism can appear on a campus. It does not require a protest every day. It does not require every activist to glorify violence all the time. It only requires enough intimidation, enough threatening language, enough disruption, and enough uncertainty to make Jewish students, Israeli students, faculty, and administrators feel unsafe.

That uncertainty changes behavior. People stop speaking freely. They avoid certain spaces. They hesitate before identifying themselves. They wonder whether they will be targeted in class, in public, online, or professionally.

When an illegal encampment escalates day after day, an administration can become frightened into negotiation. That is not a healthy exercise of free expression. It is pressure through intimidation.

The distinction matters because universities must protect protest and debate while refusing coercion. A campus cannot claim to support academic freedom if it allows intimidation to determine who can teach, learn, mourn, speak, or simply walk through a public space.

October 7 Must Be a Time to Mourn

The anniversary of October 7 creates a difficult reality for Jewish and Israeli communities at Columbia University and across the country.

There are indications that activist groups planned events intended to celebrate or commemorate the massacre. National Students for Justice in Palestine has organized activities across American campuses, while protests around New York City have also been expected around the United Nations General Assembly.

That means preparation happens in two directions.

One direction is reactive. It means showing up, refusing to be pushed out of shared spaces, and making it clear that Jewish students and their allies are not going anywhere. After a year in which many felt displaced on their own campus, reclaiming physical and communal space matters.

But the more meaningful direction is not counterprotest. It is remembrance.

October 7 should allow people to grieve, commemorate, and be together.

That means remembering everyone murdered in the attacks: Jews, Christians, Druze, Muslims, Israelis, and others. It means remembering the hostages still held captive. It means allowing students, professors, families, and allies to cry without being shouted down or harassed.

Grief should not need a security plan. Mourning should not be an act of defiance. Yet this is the reality many face at Columbia University.

The desire is simple: to have space for humanity. To honor the dead. To stand with the hostages. To be Jewish without apology. And to do it without being forced into a constant defensive posture.

What Columbia University Leadership Has Failed to Do

University administrations often communicate through statements, committees, task forces, and promises. But the real test is action.

At Columbia University, there are reasons to question whether leaders have truly learned from the past year. The institution may be taking visible security steps, but security alone does not address the deeper problem.

Consider the controversy involving Antisemitic text messages exchanged by senior academic administrators during an alumni event focused on Antisemitism. Three officials resigned. Yet Joseph Sorett, the dean of Columbia College and the most senior official connected to the incident, remained in his position.

That matters because Columbia College is responsible for undergraduate students, including Jewish students who need to trust that their concerns will be treated seriously.

A resignation is not the same thing as accountability, especially when power remains untouched.

There is also the issue of direct threats. During an online event organized by groups connected to Columbia University, CUNY, NYU, and Students for Justice in Palestine, an imam reportedly called for Professor Shai Davidai to be personally targeted. The stated purpose was to jeopardize his career and silence other professors.

Columbia University was asked whether it would condemn the remarks and whether it would sanction affiliated students connected to the event. No meaningful response came. The only reassurance offered was that there was no immediate risk.

But that misses the point completely. A university should not wait for a physical attack before responding to a public call to target a faculty member. The damage begins when threats are normalized, ignored, or treated as merely another political opinion.

A new interim president was also offered a direct invitation to work together toward making Columbia University safer for everyone. The message was clear: this was not a fight against the university. It was a fight for the university. No reply came.

And that silence sends a message of its own.

Rules Cannot Be Written by Those Who Break Them

The problem at Columbia University is not limited to a few unanswered emails or a few bad public relations decisions. It is embedded in the institutional culture.

Some professors who participated in protests and obstructed law enforcement have later been placed in positions related to university rules and governance. That creates a serious conflict of principle. People who reject rules when they dislike them should not be the ones deciding how those rules are rewritten.

You cannot build trust in an institution when rule-breaking is rewarded with more institutional power.

This is why surface-level changes are not enough. More guards at gates may prevent an immediate crisis. They do not resolve ideological capture, weak enforcement, or the lack of consequences for people who harass Jewish students and faculty.

Columbia University needs more than better optics. It needs moral clarity. It needs leaders who can say that threats are unacceptable, Antisemitism is unacceptable, support for terrorism is unacceptable, and intimidation is unacceptable.

And it needs to apply those standards consistently, even when doing so is politically uncomfortable.

American Universities Have Become Too Big to Fail

Will this moment permanently change Columbia University and other elite American institutions? It should. But it may not.

Many elite universities are so wealthy and so deeply connected to powerful networks that they operate like institutions that are too big to fail. They can survive public scandals. They can survive enrollment changes. They can survive donor outrage. They have endowments, real estate, prestige, and a powerful brand.

Columbia University, like Harvard and other elite schools, does not depend on students in the same way an ordinary institution does. It has a multibillion-dollar endowment. Its prestige can endure even when trust is damaged.

That makes outside pressure complicated. Financial consequences, Title VI scrutiny, donor action, legal challenges, and public criticism can matter. But none of them guarantees meaningful reform.

The deeper reason this should be a turning point is about what higher education is supposed to be.

American universities were once largely reserved for the wealthy. Over time, particularly after World War II and the GI Bill, higher education became more accessible to regular Americans from a wider range of backgrounds.

There were still serious problems. Racial diversity and gender equality were far from resolved. But campuses became more connected to people from different walks of life.

Today, elite institutions risk becoming playgrounds for the wealthiest students once again. At Columbia University, a significant share of students come from the highest income brackets. Veterans still attend through the GI Bill, but they can face hostility in classrooms, including being called vile names such as “baby killers.” Sometimes professors do nothing. Sometimes they appear to approve.

If veterans cannot be treated with basic dignity in a classroom, something fundamental has gone wrong.

Diversity of Thought Is Not Optional

The crisis at Columbia University is not only about Israel or Jewish students. Jews are often the first test of whether an institution can resist extremism. But the consequences spread much wider.

Universities need real diversity of thought. Not just diversity in appearance, background, or identity, but honest disagreement between people with competing political and intellectual views.

In many humanities departments and social science fields, ideological diversity has shrunk dramatically. The ratio of registered Republicans to registered Democrats in the humanities has been described as roughly one to fifteen. Whether someone identifies as Republican, Democrat, independent, or none of the above, such imbalance should concern everyone.

When one viewpoint becomes dominant, intellectual life gets lazy. Assumptions go unchallenged. Arguments become weaker. Extreme ideas can sound normal because nobody in the room is willing or able to question them.

Without disagreement, people stop sharpening their ideas. Then the ideas become extreme.

That does not mean every harmful claim deserves equal respect. It means universities should not purge people simply because they hold unpopular views. They should create conditions where arguments can be tested openly and rigorously.

Want to debate gun laws? Immigration? Foreign policy? Policing? Economics? Israel? A university should be one of the few places where disagreement can happen without anyone being branded untouchable.

At Columbia University, that mission has been badly damaged. But it can still be recovered if the institution chooses courage over convenience.

A University Worth Fighting For

There is room for different analyses. Some people believe the response to campus extremism has been excessive. Others believe it has been far too restrained. Those disagreements can be productive, but only if people are prepared to explain their reasoning and engage with evidence.

That is the standard a university should uphold.

Do not simply call someone an overreactor. Explain what facts lead you to that conclusion. Do not simply insist that coexistence is impossible. Explain what you believe should replace it. Do not silence people. Challenge them.

The answer to bad ideas is not fear. It is clearer thinking, stronger evidence, and the courage to speak.

Columbia University can still become a place where students learn how to think rather than what to repeat. It can still protect Jewish students, Israeli students, veterans, faculty, and every person targeted for their identity or beliefs. It can still enforce rules fairly. It can still treat mourning as human, not political.

But none of that happens through a carefully worded statement or a few guards at the gate. It happens when leadership acts, when standards are enforced, and when people refuse to surrender the university to intimidation.

The fight is not against Columbia University. The fight is for Columbia University, for American higher education, and for the basic idea that a campus should make room for truth, grief, argument, and human dignity.