Part 3 of an unexpected series
I honestly thought I was finished writing about the Texas A&M controversy. After publishing The Spirit Tested and Integrity Tested, I had said what needed to be said: integrity matters, Aggie values must be upheld, and education must not be hijacked by ideology. But then, over coffee this morning, my wife sent me Savannah Landers’ video, a student’s raw, firsthand account from inside the children’s literature classroom that ignited this firestorm. Her courage to speak out reminded me that the story is not finished.
And neither, it seems, is the test.
In the days since those first articles, the focus has shifted from one professor’s syllabus to the very office of the university president. Representative Brian Harrison and others are now demanding that General Mark Welsh III, Texas A&M’s president, be fired. Their reasoning? That Welsh has not gone far enough, fast enough, in stamping out gender ideology on campus.
Here’s the irony: this tactic, public outrage, political pressure, and the demand for immediate removal, isn’t the language of accountability. It’s the language of cancel culture. The very weapon conservatives so often decry is now being wielded by one of their own. And in that irony lies the lesson of Part 3.
@savannah.landers A long one, but here is my firsthand POV of the Childrens’ Literature class with Melissa McCoul at Texas A&M. Disagreement shouldn’t equal disrespect. Jesus Loves You!!! #texasamuniversity #jesuslovesyou ♬ original sound – savannah
The Facts on the Ground
In The Spirit Tested, I traced how a children’s literature class veered into ideological territory, assigning books and lessons saturated with LGBTQ themes. In Integrity Tested, I evaluated how Texas A&M’s leadership responded, removing the professor, disciplining administrators, and initiating a campus-wide course audit. Those actions were not mere optics. They were substantive steps taken within the framework of the university’s process.
Yet for some, it wasn’t enough.
Representative Brian Harrison, joined by Lt. Governor Dan Patrick, demanded more, not more transparency, not more reform, but the firing of President Mark Welsh himself. Their claim was not that Welsh ignored the problem, but that his actions somehow fell short of righteous indignation. The solution, they argued, was simple: remove the president.
But here is where the debate takes a dangerous turn. Welsh did not brush this under the rug. Students who raised concerns testify that he personally listened, responded, and acted. Deans were summoned, policies clarified, and accountability enforced. The system, while imperfect, was engaged.
Still, the calls grow louder: Welsh must go. And with that, the question shifts from what was taught in a classroom to what kind of leadership we demand from our institutions.
Defining Cancel Culture vs. Accountability
Words matter. Before we can discern what’s happening at Texas A&M, we must distinguish two terms often confused in the public square: accountability and cancel culture.
Accountability is biblical and necessary. It means holding leaders, teachers, and institutions to their stated standards, evaluating actions against promises, measuring outcomes against values, and ensuring that failures are corrected through transparent and fair process. Accountability builds trust because it seeks truth and justice, not merely punishment.
Cancel culture is something different. It thrives on outrage, demands immediate removal, and bypasses process. Rooted in Critical Theory’s worldview, cancel culture assumes that disagreement equals oppression. The solution, then, is not persuasion or correction, but erasure. Remove the offender. Silence the dissenting voice. Redefine justice as punishment by mob consensus.
Now, apply those categories. When President Welsh addressed the controversy, he moved through process: listening to students, meeting with deans, enforcing policy, and removing faculty who acted outside their bounds. That is accountability. When Representative Harrison called for Welsh’s firing, even after Welsh had acted decisively, he was not appealing to process. He was appealing to outrage. That is cancel culture.
And herein lies the irony: the very tactic conservatives rightly reject when wielded by the Left is now being borrowed to punish a president who acted honorably.
Evaluating Welsh’s Leadership
Leadership in moments of controversy reveals a person’s true character. By every reliable account, President Mark Welsh responded not with defensiveness or delay, but with steadiness and care.
When students raised concerns, Welsh didn’t hide behind press releases or committees. He picked up the phone. One student testified that he called her personally, listened attentively, and assured her that the issue would not be swept aside. That is not the action of a man trying to evade responsibility. That is the action of a shepherd who knows the flock must be heard.
From there, Welsh convened meetings with every dean at Texas A&M, reinforcing the expectation that course content must align with catalog descriptions. He initiated a comprehensive audit of syllabi. He oversaw the removal of a professor, a department head, and a dean. These are not symbolic gestures. They are real acts of accountability, taken through the channels of institutional governance.
Was his communication perfect? No. By framing the controversy primarily as “course misalignment,” Welsh left himself open to caricature, as if the entire matter was a technicality about syllabi. But leadership must be judged on more than public phrasing. It must be judged on actions. And Welsh’s actions demonstrate integrity, decisiveness, and fidelity to the values Aggies hold dear.
If accountability means listening, correcting, and strengthening trust, then Welsh has done exactly that. He has not failed the Aggie Spirit, he has embodied it.
The Irony of Borrowed Tactics
Here is where the story twists back on itself. Representative Brian Harrison is correct to be concerned about Critical Theory and its infiltration into education. He is right to warn that gender ideology does not belong in a children’s literature class. On substance, his alarm is justified.
But his tactic undermines his position.
By demanding President Welsh’s firing, not because Welsh failed to act, but because he did not act with the speed or rhetoric Harrison wanted, he adopts the very strategy of the ideology he opposes. This is cancel culture in conservative clothing.
Critical Theory teaches that power defines truth, and that those perceived as “oppressors” must be removed, not debated. Cancel culture is its fruit: if someone fails the purity test of the moment, erase them. Remove their platform. Silence their voice.
That is precisely what Harrison has done. Instead of acknowledging that Welsh led through process, listening to students, correcting faculty, and reforming policy, he called for erasure. Fire him. Remove him. Cancel him.
And in doing so, Harrison has given away the high ground. If conservatives deploy the same weapons as Critical Theory, they validate the method even while condemning the message. They win a skirmish but lose the war for principle.
The irony is sobering: in the name of defeating Critical Theory, its very tactics are being baptized and reused. And that, more than any classroom lesson, should alarm us.
Biblical and Theological Reflection
The test before us is not only cultural but theological. God’s Word gives us categories for evaluating both the content of teaching and the manner of leadership.
Proverbs 18:13 warns, “He who gives an answer before he hears, it is folly and shame to him.” Welsh listened before acting. He heard students, engaged administrators, and investigated the facts. To demand his removal while that process was unfolding is to answer before hearing, a folly Scripture cautions against.
Matthew 7:2 reminds us, “For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.” Conservatives who normalize cancel culture set a standard that will inevitably be used against them. If we justify erasing a leader who acted with integrity, we invite others to erase leaders we support when the winds shift.
Romans 13:3–4 teaches that governing authorities are meant to reward good and punish evil. Welsh did just that: he corrected what was wrong and reinforced what was right. To punish such leadership not only distorts justice, it discourages future leaders from acting with courage and care.
Theologically, we must also remember Ephesians 4:15: truth must always be spoken in love. That applies both to professors misusing classrooms and to politicians demanding action. If truth is stripped of love, it becomes harsh. If love is stripped of truth, it becomes hollow. In Christ, the two are never separated.
Thus, the biblical call is clear: we must confront false teaching, yes, but we must also uphold justice, fairness, and integrity in the process. We cannot fight lies with the weapons of lies. We cannot defend truth with the tactics of Critical Theory.
Pastoral Takeaway
Moments like these are a mirror. They show us not only the flaws in our institutions but also the flaws in our own instincts. When we see error, our first impulse is often to shout louder, demand quicker punishments, or seek symbolic victories. But as followers of Christ, we are called to something better.
Integrity requires more than the right outcome, it requires the right process. President Welsh modeled that by listening to students, correcting faculty, and enforcing accountability within the channels of the university. That is leadership worth affirming.
For us, the lesson is plain: when we contend for truth in the public square, we must not borrow the tactics of the very ideologies we oppose. Cancel culture, whether it comes from the left or the right, is still cancel culture. It shouts down debate, erases process, and replaces justice with vengeance. That is not the way of Christ.
Instead, we are called to model a better way: to hold leaders accountable with fairness, to confront error with courage, and to extend love even when we disagree. Truth without love becomes cruelty. Love without truth becomes compromise. Together, they form the path of discipleship in a culture hungry for both.
Closing Word
When I first wrote The Spirit Tested and Integrity Tested, I thought the matter would end there. But Savannah Landers’ testimony stirred me again, reminding me that this story is not just about classrooms and curricula, it’s about the integrity of leadership and the consistency of our convictions.
Let me be clear: I agree with Representative Harrison’s position. Critical Theory indoctrination in education must be eradicated. Our children deserve protection. Our universities deserve integrity. Our society deserves better than the false gospel of identity politics parading as scholarship. On this, Harrison and I stand shoulder to shoulder.
But I also stand with President Mark Welsh. By every measure, his leadership in this moment has been honorable. He listened to students. He acted decisively. He upheld Aggie Values and the Code of Honor. He did not sweep the matter aside, he addressed it through the process entrusted to him. That is integrity in action.
Which is why I cannot endorse the demand for his firing. Calls to “cancel” Welsh are not accountability. They are cancel culture. And here lies the irony: in the attempt to defeat Critical Theory, some are now wielding its very weapon. But you cannot defeat an ideology by baptizing its tactics. You only strengthen it.
So yes, oppose indoctrination. Yes, fight for truth. But fight in a way that is consistent with the truth you claim to defend. Because in the end, we are not only judged by the causes we embrace but also by the methods we use.
Cancel culture—whether from the left or the right, is the lazy man’s justice. True integrity takes the harder road: listening before judging, correcting with fairness, and leading with courage. That is the Aggie way. More importantly, that is the Christian way.
