A Call for Nonconformity
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, England had two universities, Oxford and Cambridge. Both admitted only a few hundred students per year. The upper class treated the universities like finishing schools; most gentry students matriculated but didn’t finish, a sign of status much like college dropouts in Silicon Valley. (Think of Peter Theil literally paying people to ditch college.) But the relatively small student body in early modern Oxbridge was owed, at least by the mid-seventeenth century, to a popular opinion that education quality had dwindled. Political events further compounded the appetite for alternatives.
From the Stuart Restoration until the mid-nineteenth century, nonconformists were blackballed from Oxford almost entirely due to Uniformity Act. Matriculants had to ascribe to the full Thirty-Nine Articles (i.e., not just the doctrinal parts) and the Oath of Supremacy. Cambridge required a religious test (the three articles in the Thirty-Sixth Canon) for degree conference. In 1772, the Cambridge requirement became membership in good standing of the Church of England.
To be sure, students from nonconformist families graduated from both universities, so long as they were willing to at least pledge conformity to the Church of England. In other words, so long as they were willing to either renounce their nonconformity in earnest or simply did not care. Most nonconformists didn’t capitulate. What were they then to do? Nonconformist congregations might have been underground (see the Conventicle Act, et cetera), but they still needed ministers, teachers, and nonconformist laymen still needed educations too—parents still wanted their children educated. And the ejected nonconformist ministers and university tutors needed jobs.
Prior to the return of Charles II, Oliver Cromwell had attempted to break the Oxbridge monopoly with the founding of Durham College (1653-1660) in North England. That initiative was cut short by Cromwell’s death, the Restoration, and resistance from the university monopoly. (It was originally proposed that Grey College of Durham University, founded in 1832, would be named Cromwell College in honor of the namesake’s early efforts.)
Enter what became known as dissenting academies. From 1662 until the mid-nineteenth century nonconformists, now ostracized from pulpits and lecterns, started their own institutions and thereby an alternative education system.
Most of the first dissenting academies were run by Oxford and Cambridge men. Thomas Cole, for instance, had been principle of St. Mary’s, Oxford before he established Nettlebed Academy in Oxfordshire. Some of the academies, like Philip Doddridge’s Academy, were sizeable. Others were comprised of a single tutor and a handful of students, which was not so odd, especially for new institutions. Recall that Henry Dunster, the first president of Harvard, taught the entire curriculum by himself for some time. Even prior to Restoration policies, many men opted for private tutoring, usually via patronage from a nobleman—that is what Richard Baxter did, though he always regretted since he quickly discovered that his private tutor was less knowledgeable than himself; independent study ensued.
Obviously, alternative schools do not just spring up out of the ether. An apparatus of churchmen, businessmen, and statesmen, both in England and abroad were behind them in order to acquire necessary funding and personnel.
Many students of the dissenting academies would, upon sufficiently preparing, continue their education at universities on the continent like Leiden or Utrecht, or in Scotland at Glasgow or Edinburgh. These transfers and the academies themselves were financed by private funds set up by nonconformists like the Presbyterian Fund or the King’s Head Society or the Common Fund Board. Only nonconformist students of demonstrable orthodoxy and promise were awarded scholarships, and then only to schools that would not pressure them to conform.
Academy tutors were ministers who had been ejected from their pulpits in 1662 and otherwise Oxbridge graduates who could not now acquire a university post. As time wore on, and the first round of tutors passed, new tutors obviously did not possess the official credentials of their predecessors. They were, therefore, subject to more substantive examination by the funding boards and often awarded honorary doctorates from sympathetic universities abroad.
The point is that new credentialling procedures had to be adopted out of necessity. The result was, on balance, more qualified and committed tutors. The quality of the dissenting academies reflected as much. The range of higher education options conducive to success in the current environment is increasingly narrow and cost prohibitive. Moreover, now that high status class traitors like J.D. Vance are emerging, the incumbent elite will be forced to develop more rigorous screening processes for quality control, to protect the club. As Samuel Hammond recently pointed out in a superb essay at City Journal, the new alliance between the populist and tech right presents a rising counter elite that could reconfigure class dynamics.
Real education still happens in some pockets, and smart people still attend top universities—as long as they can sneak past affirmative action quotas—but the real entry into high status professions is always and everywhere facilitated by relationships. Acceptance to a top university still functions as the first tier of entry into the broader network and the first acquisition of social capital necessary for club dues. We need colleges and primary schools that are not captive to the incumbent status hierarchy and its success pipeline, Dalton to Harvard to McKinsey, for example.
As I’ve argued before, the purpose of education in America, ostensibly lacking a hereditary aristocracy, is the conveyance of status, of social and professional approval. For the happy few who will embark on the rough model described here, prepare for failure… initially. Many of the dissenting academies lasted little more than a decade, usually tracking the lifespan of the primary tutor. For over half a century, the dissenting academies limped along.
The evangelical revivals of the late eighteenth century swelled their ranks, giving the academies new life, and increased demand for yet more academies to be established to train evangelical-leaning clergy for the Church of England itself. The quality of the academies, after experiencing a lull after the first generation, had improved academically over time. And, to put it bluntly, the academy-trained preachers were more popular. More importantly, academy graduates began to occupy positions of status outside nonconformist circles in the eighteenth century. The Tewkesbury Academy educated two future Archbishops of Canterbury. Famous people like Daniel Defoe attended dissenting academies. Charles Morton, later vice president of Harvard gained notoriety as an educator at a popular academy where he graduated classes of 50 students on his own. This trend continued into the nineteenth century when Baptists and Methodists started founding their own schools.
The good news for us today is that as the vibe shift continues, more and more nonconformists emerge, opting out of approved lifestyles. Most of these dissidents are young men with families. In other words, prepare now for future classes.
Trial and error will mark such initiatives, especially as the networking and status conveyance function is little more than a patchwork at present. But be undaunted. Waiting on providential material and social developments is built into this approach. If our historical analogy holds, plans should be measured in centuries. Of course, as Niall Ferguson has pointed out, technology expedites the timelines of almost all phenomena.
While many academies graduated only a single class, others endured through the nineteenth century. Eventually, conformist families began availing themselves of the dissenting schools. Why? They were just better. At some point, as the status conveyed by established, conformist institutions dwindle, their currency less respected, and alternatives prove successful, similar migration will begin. All things being equal, a conservative Christian family will prioritize the quality of education if job prospects are serious.
Technology is already expediting these developments. All that is required is the ambition and will to opt out of the standing order and chart new paths. But like the dissenting academies, quality, true and rigorous learning must remain the priority. Otherwise, the attractiveness of alternatives will stagnate long term.
New institutions will be needed. But in some cases, it is simply a matter of prioritizing preexisting ones that have already deviated from the mainstream and begun to acquire their own status and constituencies in our circles. Think of Hillsdale, New Saint Andrews, and Patrick Henry. Other aligned institutions could become dissenting academies in their own way. Demonstration of their alignment could take the form of alternative accreditation and the like but will be most readily signaled by their monetary priorities, requirements for entry, and faculty hires. (See the University of Austin.)
The Greystone Institute offers a unique model for alternatives in seminary education. Individuals like Michael Millerman might represent a new, technology-enabled, subscription based “tutor” model. A new patronage network will be instrumental to the success of that approach at scale. More possibilities must be investigated, and, by all means, we shouldn’t limit ourselves to remote models. A revival in residential education is surely coming as students tire of social disconnect. As the “big sort” continues, opportunities for new residential institutions will emerge as regional populations shift.
In all this too there is the prospect of future reintegration. Homerton College, Cambridge was originally the Independent College, Homerton. Harris Manchester College, Oxford is the product of the dissenting Warrington Academy. Two dissenting academies later combined to form New College London. The founding of what is now University College in 1826 as a de facto nonconformist university marked the end of the academy project. Bristol Baptist College is one of the rare survivors of the academy legacy. By the 1850s, Oxford and Cambridge had abandoned their tests for entry and graduation, a development that, arguably, introduced new problems but that’s for another time. The point is that a possible future awaits where time, political conditions, and market forces open up opportunities for a new institutional consolidation that is favorable to dissenters.
The bottom line is that chaos and disruption create opportunities. Elite universities are already losing esteem and credibility. People resent them for their rigorous enforcement of conformity. The mistake for conservative Christians would be to continue striving for acceptance, or to measure our institutions according to “elite” standards (or lack thereof). Compromised institutions like Calvin College, Fuller Theological Seminary, and Wheaton all had that bent in their DNA, to their chagrin. Bold nonconformity and real excellence will be increasingly attractive given the current trajectory of higher education. Christian, nonconformist institutions must become antifragile in order to, at Nate Fischer has put it, “turn disruption into advantage.” An aligned patronage network must emerge to ensure that the pipeline from preferred primary schools to colleges to employment is secure. A parallel system of status conveyance cannot remain parochial. (For inspiration, look at what the Koch brothers have done.) If done right, the dissenting schools will become the choice even of conformists.
Image: New College, St John’s Wood, London. Wood engraving by C.D. Laing after B. Sly, 1851 (Wikimedia Commons)
In the abstract your argument is…plausible, if lacking.
But speaking as a conservative, Christian employer – based on the ethos of the dissenting school, I’d be hard pressed to consider applicants from them. Good luck with that patronage network, because nothing in those institutions or this website speaks “I can succeed commercially and employ people someday.” The mere acceptance of the idea of a dissenting school is borderline disqualifying.
Yes, the Ivies are losing face really quickly. But several fired their presidents. Cornell and Dartmouth have been above the fray. And the institutions who are really shining are mid-tier state schools, like the University of California campuses outside Berkeley and state schools in the South. I would not agree that opportunity is presenting itself here.