Abertay Didn’t Defend Academic Freedom — It Walked Away From It

Abertay University’s reaction to the JIMS talk has created a row that didn’t need to exist. It didn’t come from extremism, illegality, or anything remotely dangerous. It began because a handful of loud voices online objected, and rather than stand firm, the university seemed to lose its footing almost immediately.

The situation wasn’t a safeguarding crisis. It was a failure of confidence. A lecturer invited a relevant speaker to a criminology class, yet instead of backing the academic judgement involved, the institution appeared to shift into self-protection mode.

The Policy Problem Nobody Wants to Say Out Loud

Abertay’s external speakers policy is built around the Prevent Duty. Its entire purpose is to flag situations where there might be a risk of extremist content or encouragement of terrorism. That’s the bar. It doesn’t exist to police opinions, or to silence uncomfortable social commentary.

In this case, the threshold simply wasn’t met. JIMS isn’t a proscribed group, nor is it an extremist one. Nothing presented in that session even grazed the boundaries of Prevent.

The talk was lawful, academically relevant, and fully within the policy Abertay itself expects staff to follow.

Yet the Principal’s statement implied that senior management approval should have been sought, even though the policy is clear: this is only required if Prevent concerns are identified. They weren’t.

That’s where the problem begins. “Reviewing processes” sounds responsible, but here it feels more like a retrospective justification. Not because something genuinely went wrong, but because the university was uncomfortable with the criticism that followed.

The Values Problem

The Principal emphasised the university’s commitment to values such as care and inclusivity. Those things matter, of course, but they become problematic when they’re used to override clear rules after an event has taken place.

A university can’t rely on subjective values to justify actions that contradict its own procedures. It leaves staff unsure whether following the rules is enough, or whether they will be judged instead by shifting interpretations of what is considered “acceptable” at any given moment.

The Quiet Message to Academics

Anyone teaching in areas that regularly brush against political sensitivities will now be looking at this incident with concern. It suggests that even if they stay within policy, if the public mood turns, they may still end up isolated.

That’s how academic freedom erodes. Not through dramatic disciplinary action or bans, but through a gradual sense that it’s safer not to touch anything that might provoke a reaction.

Abertay Still Has a Choice

This could have been handled in a much steadier way. The university could have said plainly that nothing unlawful occurred, that the event aligned with criminology teaching, and that disagreement is not grounds for institutional distancing.

Instead, it leaned into ambiguity. It hinted at procedural issues that don’t actually apply. And in doing so, it left staff unsure where they stand.

Conclusion

This was never really about JIMS. It wasn’t about extremism or safety. It was about the university losing confidence in its own principles under pressure.

A clearer, braver response would have defended the academic who followed university policy and reminded the public that difficult conversations are part of higher education. Instead, the message has become far more unsettling for staff:

“If you follow the rules but the noise becomes too loud, don’t expect us to stand beside you.”

If a university can’t defend academic freedom when it’s most needed, the question becomes: what exactly is it defending?