Utilizing game theory might shed light on the issue of university decline, but to truly make a change, we need to explore options beyond that framework.
Historically, universities prided themselves on developing character, fostering wisdom, and upholding civilization. Yet, many now offer courses like “Social Change Through Magic and Gossip,” “Decolonizing Mathematics,” and discussions on the moral necessity of “subverting the establishment through drag shows.”
There’s something that ideologues grasp, which tends to escape conservatives: the system is essentially controlled by those who are ready to fight for it.
Parents invest substantial amounts of money to teach their children that truth equates to oppression, and that even reading and writing can perpetuate colonial violence.
But how did we end up here?
One part of the answer is a sort of laziness. These ideologies appeal to less virtuous instincts. Yet, simply attributing it to laziness feels too simplistic. The underlying reason connects back to game theory.
Essentially, game theory examines how rational individuals act based on incentives that reward certain behaviors while punishing others. It clarifies why intelligent people often conform to systems they recognize as flawed.
With this understanding, the decline of modern universities seems alarmingly predictable.
The first key lesson from game theory is concerning why nonsensical ideas tend to replace sound ones.
Economists have long acknowledged Gresham’s Law, which posits that bad money drives out good. When counterfeit and legitimate coins have the same legal value, people hoard the good ones, leading to the prevalence of inferior currencies over time.
A similar phenomenon occurs with ideas.
Institutions that prioritize ideological uniformity over truth are more likely to replace skilled academics with ideological agents. Initially, they still rely on their established reputation—Nobel Prize winners might still populate the physics department, and literature classes will continue to reference Shakespeare. Philosophy departments might still bring up Augustine, especially in discussions about land grants.
As progress increasingly favors ideological transmission over intellectual rigor, ambitious individuals begin to adjust their behaviors.
If a professor realizes that publishing yet another tedious paper on “Systems of Repression in Medieval Horticultural Practices” leads to grants, accolades, and other rewards, then more of those papers will inevitably come to light.
Before long, an entire academic environment emerges, centered on glorifying jargon and penalizing any dissenting voices. This phenomenon was noted by Aristophanes over 2,000 years ago.
In “The Frogs,” he critiqued not only political downturns but cultural decline, asserting that just as bad money replaces good, inferior art, music, and even people overshadow their superior counterparts.
As civilization degrades, universities stop valuing excellence, replacing it with flattery, manipulation, and absurd trends.
Moreover, game theory helps us understand why so many engaged in woke ideology find education particularly attractive.
Education offers ideological activists valuable asymmetrical power over young individuals. Professors stand before students often lacking substantial knowledge in areas like history, philosophy, or economics. They wield control over grades, social acceptance, and the classroom’s moral atmosphere.
This dynamic creates an ideal setting for those driven by ideological fervor, offering a platform for what they view as necessary political advocacy, rather than a genuine quest for knowledge.
Contemporary academic ideologies often thrive within unique economic frameworks, usually fostering jealousy and moral outrage. Students are conditioned to see society primarily through lenses of oppression, where personal achievement becomes a function of privilege, and individual setbacks are viewed as systemic victimization.
Ultimately, ideologies that appeal to hatred and envy will inevitably be replaced by ones advocating discipline and character growth.
It’s simpler to blame “the system” than to confront personal moral flaws like envy or animosity. Critiquing civilization is much easier than contributing to or safeguarding it.
A crucial insight game theory provides is why many conservative professors choose to stay quiet, even as their institutions spiral downwards.
Imagine a professor who secretly believes their university is descending into ideological chaos. They perceive mandatory DEI training as a form of political indoctrination and witness departments valuing activism over scholarly inquiry. They see students swayed by emotional appeals masquerading as education.
Should that professor speak out? Game theory suggests they likely won’t.
Why not? The answer lies in harsh incentives.
If they voice their concerns while everyone else maintains silence, they risk social ostracization, administrative backlash, poor evaluations, stunted promotions, public defamation, and relentless bureaucratic harassment. Conversely, staying quiet might preserve their paycheck, relationships with colleagues, research opportunities, and overall well-being.
From a self-preserving standpoint, silence appears rational. Yet, such silence facilitates the very collapse of the system.
Onlookers often await someone to take the plunge and speak up. In contrast, activists usually don’t hesitate. Ideologues grasp a fact that many conservatives overlooked: the system is crafted by those willing to take a stand.
This creates an academic prisoner’s dilemma. If several professors band together to resist, the ideological shift can be mitigated or even reversed. But when each professor evaluates their individual risks, most choose silence. Consequently, activists establish a dominant presence, despite often being a vocal minority.
Game theory elucidates this dynamic effectively, but solving the issue requires a different approach.
Ultimately, civilization relies on elements game theory can’t entirely measure: namely, courage.
There are instances when doing what’s right surpasses personal advantage. It’s when an individual declares, “Even if no one else does, I will stand firm.”
Increasingly, we reduce human behavior to self-interest, motivations, career aspirations, or evolutionary benefits. However, civilization doesn’t endure solely through these incentive frameworks. It thrives thanks to individuals willing to sacrifice for what is genuinely true, good, and beautiful.
A society can only persist if enough people are committed to preserving certain values, even at a personal cost.
Even if universities manage to regain footing after their descent into meaningless trends, it won’t be because of a sudden shift in game theory. Rather, it will happen because sufficient people recognize that ideals of goodness, truth, and beauty outweigh concerns for mere safety.
