Given my situation, in a university that was ruthless about publication, the only way to survive was to publish at a high level. And yes I will here offer a mea culpa: I was from the very beginning determined to publish up a storm and I did emphasize to my students and all those around me who would listen that this was one (and perhaps the only) way to keep the door open. It was more than the usual publish or perish. For all those suspected of Marxist or anarchist sympathies, it was publish twice as much at a superior level of sophistication or perish. Even then the outcome was touch-and-go, as the long- drawn out battle over Richard Walker’s tenure at Berkeley abundantly illustrated. The Faustian bargain was that we could survive only if we made our radicalism academically respectable and respectability meant a level of academicism that over time made our work less accessible. It became hard to combine a radical pedagogy (of the sort pioneered by Bill Bunge in the Detroit Geographical Expedition) and social activism with academic respectability. Many of my colleagues in the radical movement, those with anarchist leanings in particular, did not care for that choice (for very good reasons) with the result that many of them, sadly, failed or chose not to consolidate academic positions and the space that we had collectively opened was threatened.

This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this kind of comment about the aftermath of the 1960s — in short, that many radicalized academics washed out of the academy for lack of academic legitimacy. That kind of details are good counterpoints to the stereotypes about how the American academy is populated by “tenured radicals.”

I would also underline Harvey’s remark that, “For all those suspected of Marxist or anarchist sympathies, it was publish twice as much at a superior level of sophistication or perish.” Harvey has always come across to me as a particularly thorough type of scholar — even to the point of being verbose — and now I see why.