Quota U

THE entire academy is depending on the University of Michigan. In response to lawsuits challenging its undergraduate and law-school admissions policies—cases that may well be appealed all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—the university has undertaken a massive legal, sociological, and public-relations effort to justify racial preferences. Michigan’s president, Lee Bollinger, is devoted full time to the effort, becoming one of the country’s foremost spokesmen in behalf of racial preferences. So far, the university has won over at least one judge, who ruled mostly in its favor in the Gratz case in December. But that opinion, and the university’s arguments that influenced it, serve only to demonstrate the constitutional and intellectual tenuousness of affirmative action, a policy in support of which Michigan—and most other universities and colleges—will say or do practically anything.

Any discussion of affirmative action should begin with the Fourteenth Amendment: “No State shall. . . deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” As the Supreme Court once explained, the “central mandate” of the amendment “is racial neutrality in governmental decision-making.” In the 1995 Adarand case, the Court sharpened its jurisprudence, holding that any racial classification by a governmental actor must meet “strict scrutiny.” Such classifications are constitutional only if they are “narrowly tailored measures” that further “compelling governmental interests.” This test throws into radical doubt the legal basis of racial-preference policies at public universities.

About the Author

Rich Lowry

Rich Lowry is the editor in chief of National Review.

THE entire academy is depending on the University of Michigan. In response to lawsuits challenging its undergraduate and law-school admissions policies—cases that may well be appealed all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court—the university has undertaken a massive legal, sociological, and public-relations effort to justify racial preferences. Michigan’s president, Lee Bollinger, is devoted full time to the effort, becoming one of the country’s foremost spokesmen in behalf of racial preferences. So far, the university has won over at least one judge, who ruled mostly in its favor in the Gratz case in December. But that opinion, and the university’s arguments that influenced it, serve only to demonstrate the constitutional and intellectual tenuousness of affirmative action, a policy in support of which Michigan—and most other universities and colleges—will say or do practically anything.

Any discussion of affirmative action should begin with the Fourteenth Amendment: “No State shall. . . deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.” As the Supreme Court once explained, the “central mandate” of the amendment “is racial neutrality in governmental decision-making.” In the 1995 Adarand case, the Court sharpened its jurisprudence, holding that any racial classification by a governmental actor must meet “strict scrutiny.” Such classifications are constitutional only if they are “narrowly tailored measures” that further “compelling governmental interests.” This test throws into radical doubt the legal basis of racial-preference policies at public universities.