CramBetter, Wikimedia Commons The UNC System’s new policy requiring public posting of faculty syllabi is grounded in a sound principle: Taxpayers deserve to know what is being taught at their public universities. Greater transparency strengthens public trust and reinforces institutional accountability. Under the new policy, faculty are required to include specific categories of information in their syllabi, and universities in turn must make those syllabi publicly available. This is not merely a suggestion of openness but a formal compliance obligation placed both on individual instructors and on the institutions that employ them.
Unless amended, the new syllabus policy is easily evaded in practice and will produce only a façade of transparency. Yet, while the policy contains important improvements to current practice, it ultimately fails to accomplish its stated goal. Unless amended, it is easily evaded in practice and will produce only a façade of transparency.
To its credit, the policy clarifies that syllabi are public records. That is no small matter. At North Carolina State University, for example, administrators long maintained that faculty members held the copyright to their syllabi. That interpretation effectively shielded syllabi from public-records requests, as the university claimed it lacked authority to release documents it did not own. The new system-level clarification removes that ambiguity and affirms that syllabi at public institutions are, in fact, public documents. This reform is significant and long overdue.
The limitation to materials students must buy is the policy’s fatal flaw. But the policy’s central transparency mechanism contains a critical loophole. Syllabi must now include “a list of all course materials (physical and/or electronic) that students are required to purchase” [emphasis added]. The limitation to materials students must buy is the policy’s fatal flaw.
In contemporary higher education, many assigned readings are not purchased at all. Nearly every faculty member in the UNC System uses course-management software such as Moodle. These platforms allow instructors to post PDFs, scanned chapters, and links to electronic library materials accessible only to enrolled students. For undergraduate courses, an instructor who might previously have included a controversial book chapter in a purchased course pack could simply remove that chapter from the paid materials and upload it to Moodle instead. The reading would still be required. It simply would not appear on the public-facing syllabus.
Likewise, university libraries now provide electronic access to vast numbers of books and journal articles. Rather than requiring students to purchase a text, faculty can assign readings via library links. I do this myself in one of my courses to reduce student costs. It is a common and often commendable practice. But, under the current policy, such readings, although required, would not be disclosed to the public because they are not purchased.
At the graduate level, the issue is even clearer. Courses frequently rely on journal articles, most of which are available electronically through the university library. Instructors routinely post PDFs on Moodle for students’ convenience. With more than 2,500 faculty members across the system, no administrator is reviewing every course website. Whether entirely within copyright bounds or not, instructors could upload substantial excerpts from controversial works, and no one outside the class would ever know.
The result is predictable. Faculty inclined to resist transparency need not defy the policy outright. They can comply formally while circumventing it substantively. The publicly posted syllabus will list required purchases. The real intellectual content of the course can migrate to what amounts to a shadow syllabus: a syllabus distributed digitally to students but invisible to the broader public.
I have already heard colleagues discussing strategies along precisely these lines. Do the minimum required, post a streamlined syllabus for public consumption, and provide the full reading list separately. The policy, as written, invites this behavior.
Indeed, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill has instituted a new course-proposal process aimed at encouraging exactly this practice. According to the university, faculty who wish to teach a new course must submit a two-part proposal: first, a syllabus that satisfies the new UNC System requirements and, second, a supporting document that includes a “reading list [and] weekly schedule of topics.” The page adds, “The information on the supporting material document is for internal review purposes only. This material will not be publicly available on the future online syllabus platform.”
I have already heard colleagues discussing strategies along precisely these lines. The policy invites this behavior. Furthermore, the Martin Center has received a copy of an email sent by a UNC public-records specialist concerning a recent syllabus request. In this note, the staffer explains that, while the faculty member must turn over his or her syllabus under the new policy, he or she may claim that parts of it are “copyrightable.” Implied is the notion that the professor should do just that: “If you wish to object to the production of parts of your syllabus on these grounds, it must be submitted in writing to me.”
This gaming of the system does not advance accountability, nor does it strengthen public trust. This gaming of the system serves no one well. It does not advance accountability, nor does it strengthen public trust. Indeed, it will likely deepen suspicion, as members of the public discover that official syllabi often omit substantial portions of assigned material.
The solution is straightforward. The policy should require faculty to provide a complete list of all readings, both required and recommended, regardless of whether students must purchase them. In addition, instructors should be required to submit a copy of the syllabus and any supplemental document that is distributed to students or posted on course websites. If a reading is assigned, whether in print, on a scanned PDF, or via hyperlink, it should be reflected in the publicly available record.
Such an amendment would not impose an onerous burden. Faculty already compile comprehensive reading lists. The change would merely ensure that the version made public matches the version given to students.
Critics argue that extracting and submitting these materials would create additional administrative work. Yet most universities already rely on course-management systems to distribute syllabi, assignments, and readings. Rather than creating a new reporting requirement, institutions could simply make course websites publicly accessible. One issue with this approach is that it would expose student discussion forums to the public, potentially violating student privacy and the protections guaranteed under the Family Educational Rights and Privacy Act. That concern, while understandable, is not insurmountable.
Because the UNC System is already requiring universities to transition to a common course-management platform called Canvas by 2028, the UNC System now has a practical opportunity to build transparency into the platform from the outset. Canvas’s architecture allows for differentiated user roles. Student discussion boards and listservs can be restricted to users with a designated “student” role, while members of the public could be granted a separate, limited-access role. Such users would be able to view syllabi, readings, and course materials without accessing private student communications. This approach would safeguard student privacy while advancing transparency about what is being taught in publicly funded institutions. It is not only sound policy; it is technically feasible with modest configuration changes to the existing Canvas system.
Other states have confronted similar issues. In Georgia, policymakers initially adopted a syllabi-transparency measure that proved incomplete. After public pressure and policy review, the requirements were strengthened to ensure fuller disclosure of assigned readings. North Carolina should learn from that experience.
Reasonable observers may disagree about particular books, theories, or pedagogical approaches used in our public universities. But transparency itself should not be controversial. Strong institutions do not fear transparency; they welcome it. Universities confident in the quality of their instruction and the seriousness of their scholarship should have no hesitation in allowing the public to see what is taught in their classrooms.
If members of the public discover that officially posted syllabi omit substantial portions of assigned material, suspicion will deepen. Partial transparency risks producing the opposite of its intended effect. If members of the public discover that officially posted syllabi omit substantial portions of assigned material, suspicion will deepen rather than diminish. Even when most faculty act in good faith, the appearance of selective disclosure can erode confidence. In an era already marked by declining trust in major institutions, our public universities should avoid policies that invite cynicism.
Full disclosure would also protect faculty members themselves. A complete public record allows courses to be evaluated in context. When only fragments of a syllabus are visible, it becomes easier for critics to mischaracterize a course’s content or emphasis. Transparency, properly understood, safeguards intellectual honesty on all sides.
Moreover, modest reform today may prevent more sweeping intervention tomorrow. Legislators confronted with evidence of incomplete disclosure are unlikely to respond by retreating from oversight. Universities that resist reasonable transparency measures may find themselves facing far more prescriptive mandates in the future. By embracing a clear and comprehensive disclosure standard now, the UNC System can demonstrate its commitment to accountability while preserving institutional autonomy.
The UNC System’s new policy moves in the right direction by affirming that syllabi are public records. But by limiting disclosure to materials that students are required to purchase, it leaves open a wide and obvious avenue for evasion. If the goal is to ensure that the public understands what is being taught at its universities, then the policy must reflect how teaching actually occurs in the 21st century, not how it occurred decades ago, when course materials were defined primarily by what students bought at the campus bookstore.
A half measure will produce half transparency. A simple amendment can make it whole.
Stephen Porter is professor of higher education in the College of Education at North Carolina State University.
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