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When Ethics Become Harmful: The Case Against Divestment

“The Innovation University.” Stevens is a place where new ideas, bold thinking, and creative solutions to complex problems are the norm. Our education is rooted in expanding knowledge and pushing scientific boundaries—not in shutting out diverse perspectives or demonizing those we disagree with. The Stevens Divest from War Initiative Student Letter runs counter to these values.

At first glance, calls to divest from weapons manufacturers might sound ethical. In reality, they’re deeply misguided. The companies named—L3Harris, Raytheon, Boeing—are vital Stevens partners. L3Harris collaborates with us on a graduate program in systems engineering and funds student senior design projects. Raytheon and Boeing are integral to our graduate degree programs. Cutting financial ties with them would likely end these partnerships, harming students’ education and job prospects. Divestment, in this case, is a self-inflicted wound.

Though the letter avoids naming specific countries or companies, it clearly echoes the earlier Divest from War Initiative proposal that failed in the Student Government Association. That proposal originally singled out Israel, and while the revised version removed explicit references, it retained sources that demonize the country. The current letter’s title, structure, and language closely mirror that proposal, making its intent unmistakable: to isolate and marginalize the Jewish and Israeli communities at Stevens.

Supporters of the letter suggest that divesting from Israel-related companies could somehow resolve the conflict in Gaza. But this argument doesn’t hold up. Divesting from companies that do business with Israel will not end the war. It will, however, damage Stevens students—especially those with family in Israel or ties to the country—and send a chilling message: if you feel connected to Israel, you don’t belong here. Resolutions like these have historically fueled antisemitism on other campuses. There’s no reason to think Stevens would be immune.

This type of political messaging is not just divisive—it is counter to our university’s mission. Stevens is an academic institution committed to intellectual inquiry, innovation, and excellence. Dragging our endowment into a politicized divestment campaign only distracts from that mission. It invites endless disputes with no real-world impact.

Divestment campaigns at elite universities have never succeeded in shifting state behavior. Global companies are rarely affected by these symbolic actions. Even the Arab League’s boycott of Israel starting in 1945 failed to alter Israeli strategy or meaningfully harm its economy. Israel’s conflict with Hamas is viewed as an existential threat; economic pressure is unlikely to change its military course. So, what does this vote actually do? It signals virtue—but at the cost of student opportunity and campus unity.

Moreover, sweeping divestment hurts allies for peace as much as adversaries. Israel’s business landscape includes many liberal, progressive leaders who openly oppose their government’s policies. By cutting ties across the board, we risk silencing these voices and pushing Israeli society further to the right. Engagement—not isolation—is the more effective path to peace.

Currently, Stevens’ investments are guided by economic criteria. Changing that standard to accommodate political causes – even causes cloaked in the language of ethics – would set a dangerous precedent. Once we open the door to politicized divestment, there will be no shortage of future campaigns, each demanding action on the issue of the day. The result? A fractured campus, distracted from its educational mission.

The Stevens mission is clear: “To inspire, nurture and prepare students for an increasingly complex and technology-centric world, to develop innovative solutions to the most challenging problems of our time and to expand the frontiers of knowledge.” The divestment campaign directly contradicts this mission. It undermines our ability to prepare students for real-world careers, pursue meaningful partnerships, and maintain a campus where all students—Jewish, Israeli, or otherwise—feel welcome.

We must uphold our values. That means rejecting initiatives that polarize the community, sacrifice academic excellence, and risk real harm in exchange for symbolic politics. The only responsible choice is to vote against this letter.