Late last year, a group of Arizona State University alumni gathered on the rooftop of the Canopy Hotel — high enough to see the headlights snake through the city of Tempe, but low enough to feel the pounding bass line of Mill Avenue’s nightlife.
Though the setting was casual, the conversation was anything but. A simple question had brought them together: What obligations do alumni have to their alma mater?
For most graduates, the answer is simple. Come back for Homecoming, buy the sweatshirt, scribble a check when the fundraising office calls. Thanks for your generosity! Click.
But for the assembled Sun Devils — spanning the classes of ’85 to ’24 — their connection to ASU is more than rah–rah nostalgia. They feel a duty to protect what made the university worth attending in the first place.
And so, that evening, they formed ASU Alumni for Free Speech. Their mission? “To promote and strengthen free expression, academic freedom, and viewpoint diversity, both on campus and throughout the global ASU community.”
The group’s inaugural chairman is Joe Pitts, ASU class of ’23 — whose beard, broad shoulders, and sage intellect belie his youth. For him, alumni should be more than mere spectators or “walking check books,” as he puts it, “endlessly giving and expecting little in return.” Instead, they should be invested stakeholders.
Pitts says it’s now fashionable to view a college diploma as little more than a fancy receipt. People think, I paid my tuition, endured the required courses, and behold: I’m credentialed! A neat little market transaction — no lingering ties, no ongoing investment.
But this mindset, Pitts argues, is both morally bankrupt and pragmatically wrong-headed. As a practical matter, he says, “the value of your degree is tied to the reputation of your school — if your alma mater improves over time, your degree becomes more prestigious. If it declines, so does the respect it commands.”
And in the cutthroat world of status-signaling and social capital that matters — a lot.
ASU alumni have already petitioned the Arizona Board of Regents, urging them to adopt a policy of institutional neutrality, which would prevent the university from taking positions on current political issues and weighing in on the cause-du-jour.
As a moral matter, “spending four years (or even more) at a university inevitably shapes you in some way,” Pitts says. “And in most cases, it’s for the better — even if we don’t exactly realize it at the time.” Think about it: how many unexpected friendships or serendipitous moments of clarity, insight, rebellion, and revelation do we owe our alma mater?
To discard that connection the moment you graduate — to treat it like an expired gym membership — isn’t just ungrateful. It’s a rejection of one’s own formation.
But beyond these considerations, Pitts insists that what united them on the Canopy Hotel rooftop last year was — love, actually. Not the saccharine, Hallmark kind or the fleeting thrill of a Tinder rendezvous, but the sort of love that drives men to build cathedrals and forge legacies.
Echoing St. Thomas Aquinas, Pitts says, “We love ASU, and to love is to will the good of the other — not to sit idly by.” And what is the good? It’s a campus where students unapologetically speak their minds; where professors dare to probe the perilous and the provocative; where administrators resist the temptation to do their best Big Brother impression!
Fortunately for ASU Alumni for Free Speech, their alma mater is already a national leader when it comes to free speech on campus — though, as Pitts notes, that’s “a damn low bar.”
ASU ranks 14 out of 251 schools in FIRE’s 2025 College Free Speech Rankings, and has maintained a “green light” rating from FIRE since 2011, meaning its official policies don’t seriously imperil free expression. In 2018, ASU adopted the Chicago principles, committing to the “free, robust, and uninhibited sharing of ideas” on campus.
The university didn’t stop there. This spring, ASU will launch a Center for Free Speech alongside an annual Free Speech Forum.
But despite these credentials, the specter of censorship still lingers at ASU, and the numbers tell the tale:
- 68% of ASU students believe shouting down a speaker is at least rarely acceptable.
- 35% believe violence can sometimes be justified to silence speech.
- 37% self-censor at least once or twice a month.
- Over one-third of surveyed ASU faculty admit to self-censorship in their writing.
And so — like the cavalry cresting the hill — ASU Alumni for Free Speech arrives just in time.
“When controversy inevitably arises on a campus of 100,000 students,” Pitts argues, “the defense of free expression shouldn’t be left solely to outside organizations or political bodies. Instead, those speaking up should be people who genuinely care about ASU and have its best interests at heart.”
ASU Alumni for Free Speech aims to be that voice. “In the long run, we want to have a seat at the table,” Pitts explains. “We want to build relationships not just with the ASU administration but also with the Arizona Board of Regents.”
Along with FIRE, ASU alumni have already petitioned the Arizona Board of Regents, urging them to adopt a policy of institutional neutrality, which would prevent the university from taking positions on current political issues and weighing in on the cause-du-jour.
SIGN THE PETITION TO ADOPT INSTITUTIONAL NEUTRALITY!
Pitts and the rest of ASU Alumni for Free Speech are tired of playing cheerleader. They’re here to ensure that ASU flourishes not just today, but for every Sun Devil yet to step onto Palm Walk for the first time.
“Sometimes that may look like applause,” Pitts says. “Other times, that may look like criticism.”
In either case, he insists, it’s an act of love.
If you’re ready to join ASU Alumni for Free Speech, or if you’re interested in forming a free speech alumni alliance at your alma mater, contact Bobby Ramkissoon at [email protected]. We’ll connect you with like-minded alumni and offer guidance on how to effectively protect free speech and academic freedom for all.
