Change, But at What Cost?

I sat spellbound. The man across the table was relating how he had wrangled his way into a detention center where he suspected torture was being committed. He convinced the guard to leave the room, quickly photographed the horrific scarring on a detainee’s back, smuggled the film out and showed the photos to a judge.

“The judge roundly condemned the torture, which was illegal but seldom exposed,” my companion explained. “Detainees were denied any access to their families and lawyers until they were charged. That could take several months, and by then the marks of torture would no longer show. But this time we had unexpectedly won a case granting access to the detainee.” He paused, then added, “The judge directed the offending security policemen to be prosecuted. The exposure stopped the torture.”

The man across from me was Dave Smuts, a white lawyer who had led the legal challenges to the apartheid regime in place in Namibia when it was under South African rule. Dave is now a Namibian Supreme Court Justice. Dave also was an international student at Harvard.

“My experience at Harvard Law School was game-changing. As virtually the only attorney in Namibia then doing human rights work, what I learned at Harvard changed my approach — not only what I learned in class from the brilliant teaching staff but more importantly from the stimulating discourse with my fellow students. My thinking changed from seeing myself as a ‘defense lawyer’ to a more assertive stance. I learned to challenge oppressive practices and policies, putting that evil system on its defense, rather than us being on defense.”

As the Trump administration curbs international student visas, I wonder the cost. How do we benefit by no longer being part of the stories of history-making people such as Justice Smuts?

More recently I met a young Zimbabwean student at a religiously affiliated, Midwestern college. She’s a science whiz, winning awards for her research to improve water quality in lakes where recreational centers have been closed because of toxic algae and bacteria, as well as research into natural drug compounds that reduce chronic inflammation at the heart of cancer. “I’m using my time at an American college to become the best version of myself!” she exclaimed. Why lose the chance to support young scientists advancing health research?

As a humanitarian aid worker, I often met foreigners who credit studying in the U.S. with the important work they now do. They also speak glowingly of the U.S. once they’re home. A Bosnian official, fresh from a mid-career program in the U.S., admiringly recalled, “In America, people actually stop at red lights, even when no one is coming. They believe in the rule of law. That’s how their society gets ahead!” He was eager to apply American cultural knowledge to his own society.

Other countries understand the opportunity that comes with admitting the best and brightest of the rest of the world. Japan and China are gleeful about the U.S. administration’s initiative, already setting up scholarships and other programs to entice the students we’re turning away.

This points to a problem with many of the policies made in this administration. Too often we create massive change for the sake of disruption, without considering the consequences. The U.S. will be poorer without international students. We lose their perspectives enriching campus conversations. We lose the financial benefits of their tuition and other spending. We lose the leading edge they bring us in science, business, and the arts.

It’s time to slow down and think these changes through. We are losing too much.

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