This evening, as I have done for the past 11 years, I will be delivering the first lecture of a study unit called ‘Critical Perspectives’, a primer in critical philosophy for students reading for a degree in Youth and Community Studies.

Those who originally designed the curriculum for the course, well before I became a part-timer within the department, were strongly convinced that, before we send our students “out into the world”, they ought to be equipped with instruments that would enable them to hone their understanding so that they may face the diversity of experiences and values they’ll encounter “out there” with an open mind.

In class, we break down dogmas, we try to dissect ethical issues from various perspectives, we learn to construct an argument and hold a discussion and, perhaps most important of all, we sharpen our analytic capabilities.

As I have done for the past 11 years, this evening I will start my lecture with two remarks: 1. that we should constantly keep in mind the privilege we have of being part of the institution that is university; and, 2. that in our institution, there is no automatic right to an opinion – that right has to be earned.

This last point is usually met with blank faces: what does it mean that a right has to be ‘earned’? Aren’t rights supposed to be automatic, inalienable, uncontested? Yes, the right to stupidity perhaps.

The first remark, about the privilege of belonging to the institution, is intended to alert the students to a fact that they often disregard: that not everyone has the opportunity to sit for a class at university.

Not that everyone should want to, but many students are discouraged from even dreaming of studying at university early on during their educational trajectory.

Others don’t even consider the option because the background they come from either does not prepare them to be that ambitious or it doesn’t value education as such a pivotal experience in a person’s development.

Some people discover the aspiration to get back to their studies later in life but then don’t have the courage to pursue it or life limits them in one way or another.

Whether one makes it to university early or later in life is a privilege, and every student should remember it every day.

Then comes the second remark, that about earning one’s right to an opinion.

First of all, one should make a distinction between a whim and an opinion. A whim is a statement that reflects a belief or a prejudice or a feeling; it has no relation to fact and has no logical bearing. In terms of weight and consequence, a whim has none.

For an opinion to be considered as such, it has to fulfil three requirements: 1. It has to be based on data or information, could be studied observation; 2. That information has to be thought through analytically, a process called discernment; and 3. The discernment then has to be formulated into an argument.

So, a statement like ‘We are being invaded by African migrants’ is just a whim, perhaps based on latent racism, if we stick to the data supplied by the latest census that states that 90 per cent of the population considers itself to be Caucasian.

There is no automatic right to an opinion – that right has to be earned- Aleks Farrugia

That does not preclude anyone from making serious arguments about the challenges posed by migration. But, for an opinion to be worthy, for it to earn the right to be considered, it has to be based on studied data, analysed critically and properly argued.

As academics, we would be shortchanging our students if we didn’t teach them how to construct an opinion. First of all because in academia, their whims have no value whatsoever, and unless they are able to construct well-wrought, studied opinions, they will certainly fail their academic endeavours.

Secondly, because many of them have an ambition to become future leaders, whether in their place of work or in the public sphere, where their critical skills will be crucial for their success, whether to increase sales or meet the demands of new technology or reconfigure work practices or writing policies that will shape the country’s future.

There’s also the fact that a critical mind is essential to navigate in a world flooded with information, a lot of which is incorrect, misleading or outright fiction.

Of course, students would always prefer a shortcut. They are generally young, eager to get a degree to go and prove themselves to the world.

I wasn’t surprised that over a thousand of them signed a petition against the proposal by university to have a compulsory module dedicated to critical thought and academic argument. Perhaps, if I were still 18 years old, I would have been one of the signatories myself. The onus, however, is on the institution.

For too long have we mistook the democratisation of education with dumbing-down learning. Democratisation does not preclude the leadership the institution should provide; it shouldn’t ignore that it is primarily a learning institution, and therefore it should retain its leadership when it comes to the formation of curricula.

Democratisation happens when that curriculum is taken up by the students and they make it theirs, they shape it, rearrange it and mould it to fit their needs and aspirations. For the past 11 years, I have seen it happening in class.

I have seen students debating current social issues using the Categorical Imperative; using Nietzsche to challenge Kant on crime; tackling issues related to sexuality using Freud and Marx; debating capitalism and consumer society with Lucaks and Zizek. They come full of whims and leave with solidly argued opinions. If they don’t, then that’s my failure.

However, if I have to thank anyone that this little experiment of ours happens every year to (which appears to me) the students’ satisfaction, it has to be those who originally set the curriculum and had the courage and foresight to establish critical thinking as core curriculum for future youth workers and community leaders.