The Blogs: Between Engagement and Distortion

On journalism, universities and the temptation of activism

The analysis by journalist Matti Friedman of media coverage concerning Israel and Gaza — as published in, among others, The Atlantic and Tablet — touches upon an uncomfortable issue in the functioning of modern institutions. His central argument is not that the media “lie”, but that structural mechanisms, selection, framing and institutional culture, lead to a systematically distorted representation of reality.

Although his analysis focuses on international journalism, it provides a broader analytical framework that can also be applied to other domains where knowledge, interpretation and societal pressure converge. Precisely for that reason, his observation is relevant: it extends beyond journalism alone. A similar dynamic can also be observed in the Netherlands, particularly at the intersection of media, universities and politics.

Selection as subtle steering

Friedman points to a seemingly simple, yet fundamental observation: attention is never neutral. The volume of coverage implicitly determines what is perceived as important.

In the Netherlands, the intensity of attention devoted to Israel, Gaza, and increasingly Iran is strikingly high, especially when compared to other conflicts or humanitarian crises. This disparity cannot easily be explained solely on the basis of objective criteria such as scale, casualties or geopolitical impact.

What emerges is a form of selective urgency: a situation in which one conflict becomes morally and politically central, while other conflicts remain structurally underexposed.

From interpretation to positioning

Friedman describes a shift within journalism: from describing reality to interpreting it through a normative framework. A comparable development is visible within universities.

Where academic institutions traditionally allowed space for diverse interpretations, a dominant moral positioning is increasingly taking shape. International conflicts are interpreted through fixed analytical frameworks, such as colonialism, oppression and power asymmetry.

These frameworks are, in themselves, legitimate and analytically valuable. The problem arises when they become exclusive — when they no longer offer one perspective, but become the perspective.

The broadening of activism

A striking feature of the current debate is the increasing interconnectedness of different activist movements. While organisations such as Extinction Rebellion began as explicitly climate and environmental movements, focusing on biodiversity loss and CO₂ reduction, a clear broadening can now be observed within parts of these networks.

What began as ecological urgency is increasingly framed within a broader system critique, in which capitalism, colonialism and power structures are seen as underlying causes. From that perspective, the connection to geopolitical conflicts, such as Israel–Palestine, is made as an expression of those same structures.

It is precisely here that an analytical problem arises. Concepts such as ‘colonialism’ are often applied in public and academic discourse as overarching explanatory models, without always doing justice to the historical and geopolitical complexity of specific regions. The Israeli–Palestinian conflict has a long and layered history, involving different population groups, migration flows, political developments and regional power dynamics.

By interpreting this conflict primarily through a single theoretical framework, there is a risk that other relevant dimensions — such as the broader regional context, internal diversity within populations, and historical continuities — are neglected. This leads not only to simplification, but also to selective focus, whereby comparable or even greater tensions in other parts of the region receive less attention.

In that sense, the issue is not so much engagement itself, but the one-sidedness of interpretation. When complex realities are reduced to a single explanatory model, analysis shifts into conviction, and the ability to hold multiple perspectives simultaneously disappears.

At the same time, this connection is not self-evident, but a normative choice. Climate change, geopolitics and historical conflicts each have their own dynamics, actors and contexts. Bringing them together under a single interpretative framework risks pushing specific historical and political complexity into the background.

What remains is a form of analytical compression.

The university as a catalyst

This development finds fertile ground within universities. Not because academics are inherently activist, but because certain theoretical frameworks, such as postcolonial and critical theory, are strongly represented within parts of the academic world.

Yet universities, by their very nature, are tasked with making the breadth and complexity of reality visible. It is precisely here that space should exist for multiple perspectives, historical depth and competing interpretations.

In practice, the opposite sometimes appears to occur. Under the influence of activist mobilisation and social pressure, a situation emerges in which:

certain interpretations become dominant
moral positioning becomes part of academic culture
and activism and analysis increasingly converge

As a result, the university shifts from a place where complexity is revealed to an environment in which that complexity is reduced. In both the climate debate and discussions surrounding Israel, Gaza and Iran, the breadth of context is frequently absent.

This is not only the result of external pressure, but also of internal choices. Universities themselves bear responsibility for safeguarding academic standards. This also means confronting students, including activist students, with the reality that multiple perspectives always exist, and that complex issues cannot be reduced to a single moral framework.

In this light, a fundamental question arises: can an academic be both researcher and activist? When activism influences the interpretation of facts and the direction of research, the very foundation of science comes under pressure. In both teaching and research, objectivity, methodological doubt and openness to multiple outcomes should be leading principles.

A university loses its unique position when it fails to actively safeguard this role, not by avoiding engagement, but by consistently prioritising analytical independence.

The activist professional: a role under pressure

In extension of this, a broader development emerges: the rise of the “activist scholar” and the “activist civil servant”.

Societal engagement in itself is not problematic. On the contrary, science and governance do not exist in isolation from society. The problem arises when engagement evolves into the pre-structuring of outcomes and the blurring of roles.

For civil servants, there is a clear boundary. Their role is to serve all citizens and derives its legitimacy from impartiality, equality before the law and reliability. When civil servants explicitly align themselves with activist positions, this risks:

(perceived) exclusion of groups of citizens
erosion of trust in institutions
feelings of insecurity and increased polarisation

This is particularly relevant in sectors such as policing, fire services and healthcare, where neutrality and equal treatment are not abstract principles, but everyday practice.

A similar tension exists within academia. When normative frameworks dominate and an activist stance becomes embedded in institutional culture, space for dissenting perspectives can come under pressure. This manifests not only in debate, but may also influence:

the selection of research topics
the interpretation of results
and, in extreme cases, the professional space and careers of scholars holding divergent views

This is an undesirable development. Not because convictions are irrelevant, but because science and governance derive their value precisely from their capacity to accommodate plurality without predefining it.

The core issue is therefore not activism itself, but role confusion: when institutions and professionals that are meant to connect and analyse become parties within the conflicts they are meant to serve or study.

The response of institutions

This dynamic is further reinforced by the way institutions respond. Universities and political organisations show increasing sensitivity to societal pressure and activist mobilisation.

This is reflected in:

facilitating protests
reconsidering partnerships
adopting public moral positions

This is often presented as social responsibility, but raises a more fundamental question: to what extent should institutions allow their direction to be shaped by the dynamics of the moment?

For organisations grounded in knowledge, law and governance, the answer should be the opposite. Their legitimacy lies in distance, objectivity and consistency, not in responsiveness to the loudest voices of the moment.

At the same time, a second, more structural issue arises: the tendency to have criticism of institutional functioning investigated primarily from within.

Within Dutch universities, issues such as social safety, academic culture and political influence are frequently examined through processes embedded in the very institutional and academic frameworks that are themselves under scrutiny. This raises questions about the degree of independence and critical reflection involved.

This tension is aptly captured in the image of “the butcher judging his own meat”. The issue is not that universities examine their own functioning, that is necessary, but that such examinations take place within a context in which the underlying norms and assumptions themselves are contested.

This creates the risk of a closed feedback loop:

criticism is absorbed within existing frameworks
fundamental questions remain unaddressed
and external trust declines

This issue extends beyond universities alone. When institutions are no longer visibly capable of independent self-reflection, they lose their authority as neutral actors.

As that boundary fades, institutions lose their anchor and become part of the very dynamics they are meant to interpret or regulate.

No crisis of intentions, but of structure

It is essential to recognise that this development does not stem from malicious intent. It is driven by engagement, by a sense of justice, and by the desire to contribute to a better world.

Yet it is precisely here that an additional risk emerges: the conflation of reason and emotion. In societal and geopolitical issues, particularly those involving human suffering, moral outrage and empathy are to be expected. However, when emotion begins to guide analytical judgement, the balance shifts.

The tension underlying these developments is not new. The German philosopher Jürgen Habermas already warned of the erosion of the public sphere when the rational exchange of arguments is displaced by strategic and emotional communication. In his distinction between communicative and strategic action lies the very core of the present problem: where institutions should primarily be oriented towards understanding and the pursuit of truth, the emphasis increasingly shifts towards positioning and persuasion.

What follows is a situation in which:

moral urgency replaces careful deliberation
complex realities are reduced to morally unambiguous narratives
and objectivity recedes or disappears altogether

In times of conflict and societal tension, it is therefore crucial that institutions safeguard their role. Universities, government and journalism derive their value not from amplifying emotion, but from providing interpretation, context and discernment.

When these institutions align themselves with dynamics of outrage and moral positioning, they lose their corrective function. Instead of offering counterbalance, they become part of the very movement they are meant to analyse.

The issue, therefore, lies not with individuals, but with structures:

in the distribution of attention
in dominant theoretical frameworks
and in the mutual reinforcement between media, universities and politics

And it is precisely here that the challenge lies: restoring a balance in which reason and emotion are not opposed, but in which emotion does not replace analysis.

Restoring distinction

The central question is ultimately simple, yet fundamental:

What is the role of science?
What is the role of governance?
What is the role of journalism?
And where does engagement end and positioning begin?

When that distinction fades, depth is replaced by flattening. Complex issues are reduced to recognisable schemes, and institutions lose their defining function.

For that reason, an explicit appeal is warranted. Governments, universities, journalistic organisations and administrators share a collective responsibility to actively safeguard these boundaries.

This requires:

restoring space for multiple perspectives
clearly separating analysis from normative positioning
and protecting professionals from pressure to conform to dominant narratives

Without such effort, institutions risk no longer functioning as independent pillars of society, but as extensions of the debates they are meant to deepen and structure.

Conclusion

Friedman’s analysis demonstrates how easily systems can shift without explicit intent. Not through deliberate manipulation, but through the accumulation of choices in attention, interpretation and culture. At the same time, it is important to recognise that his own analysis is not entirely free from perspective. Precisely because he positions himself as a critic of dominant narratives, his work too contains elements of selection and emphasis. This does not diminish the value of his contribution, but rather reinforces his central point: complete neutrality is difficult to achieve and requires continuous reflection.

The Dutch context shows that this dynamic is not confined to journalism. Universities and politics also operate in a space where moral urgency, activism and institutional responsibility increasingly converge.

The challenge is not to reduce engagement, but to restore distinction:

between analysis and conviction
between science and activism
and between institutions and movements

Without that distinction, not only does the debate lose its sharpness, but so too do the institutions that are meant to sustain it.