There is a particular kind of confidence that comes with attending one of the most reputable schools in Hawaii. Students here are taught that they are capable thinkers equipped with the tools to engage with the unsolved problems of this world. Yet, in almost any substantive conversation at Punahou: club debates, lunch time discussions, class socratic seminars, the range of political opinion among the student body of hundreds narrows far smaller than you’d expect from a group of otherwise diverse, globally minded, privately educated, young people. Is there an explanation for this phenomenon of likemindedness among Punahou Students?
Could an explanation lie in what students are being exposed to? An exclusive statement from a Punahou faculty member who wished to remain anonymous offers an observation: “A school that required students and faculty to march in an actual on-campus parade during the school day when Obama was elected, but also required students and faculty to sit in Chapel and observe moments of silence in recognition of the sadness America was feeling when Trump was elected, is probably not observing all that much balance.”
Dr. Michael Latham, 17th president of Punahou School, contests the framing of this account. He acknowledged the complexity of the election of Barack Obama, stating, “When an alum of your school becomes President of the United States, that’s kind of a big deal. But I think you would want to do it in such a way that you were maybe recognizing his achievement as a school, versus signing on to represent the Democratic Party…I hope, if in the future, a Punahou graduate becomes the Republican nominee and wins the election, I hope we do the same thing.”
Dr. Latham continued, speaking on his efforts to bring this to fruition, “One of my Punahou classmates, from 1986, is now the Assistant Secretary of State for South Asian Affairs. Paul Kapur is working in the Trump administration and the Trump administration State Department. We brought him to campus, and he came and spoke to the Davis Democracy event and spoke to a class. I was really proud of that. And that was not about his politics; that was about, ‘Hey, here’s a person who has done something really remarkable.’ He’s one of our own. We should recognize that.”
On the other hand, Dr. Latham’s tenure at Punahou began in 2019, so, regarding the referenced moment of silence after the election of Donald Trump, he explained, “If it was 2016, I had not yet come to Punahou, so I couldn’t speak about it. If it were 2024, I don’t recall a moment of silence to recognize sadness…I wouldn’t support a moment of mourning, but if it’s a moment of silence for us to think about, how do we, as a school, as a community, treat each other with respect, and navigate the aftermath of a really polarized time in U.S. politics? How do we see each other as human beings, not just as Republicans or Democrats, or others? That’s worth doing.”
The tensions between intention and perception are part of what makes this question one that is so nuanced. The curriculum itself is evidence of how student experience may differ from what is intended. In my experience, books assigned in the highest level classes tend to follow a consistent thread — one that leads students towards similar conclusions. The primary sources we analyze, the frameworks we are handed to make sense of society and history, are not neutral, and rarely ask us to sit with nuance, contradiction, or disagreement. This is not indicative of bad faith on the part of Punahou School, but is an issue seen nationally, where ethics coincide with education and brain development, and moral codes, and so on.
I absolutely believe the curriculum at Punahou School is carefully and strategically crafted to support its educational mission. I also strongly believe it is human to have perspective. And those perspectives shape students through what is affirmed and what answers feel safe. Especially when academic performance carries the weight it does in college admissions, it is not a stretch to believe that students, consciously or not, learn to reflect what their academic environment rewards. Though arguing morality over an issue such as education may seem futile, radical progression may be found in how we evaluate these dilemmas.
Dr. Latham draws an important distinction between two related but separate goals of intellectual diversity: having a range of views represented, and intellectual freedom, which he describes as “creating the environment in which people can bring forward their own distinctive thoughts and perspectives, and then potentially engage with other people who think differently.” He explained that the former is difficult for any school to engineer. “When we’re making enrollment decisions, we don’t ask students what their political beliefs are, you know, nor would it be appropriate to do that.” He expressed the same idea applicable to the hiring of faculty as well, concluding, “But I think it’s very important for schools to strive for this measure of intellectual freedom, or freedom of inquiry.”
Even with extensive care and impermissible measures taken, institutional intention and design do not always translate into student experience. Maddie Pitts ’26 is politically involved on campus with her roles as a board member of the Davis Democracy Initiative and co-president of the Current Events club. “I think almost everyone I come into contact with, in these spaces, about talking about politics and current events, is very progressive. Not a lot of moderate, and I’ve only come into contact with one right-leaning person,” she said.
The variables that may contribute to her observation, such as Hawaii being a blue state and the evident majority of academia being reputed to be progressive, seem to stand true for Punahou School as well. She has also taken AP-level courses for history and government, sharing, “Because I lean left, it’s been nice for me to talk to like-minded people, but I think there is a disadvantage to that as well. I don’t get as much exposure to people with different ideas as I do give an insight into the political environment.” She shared an anecdote of a disagreement she had with a classmate: “I wasn’t afraid to disagree with her, because I think one good thing about Punahou is, when we have disagreements, we’ve been taught to navigate them maturely. We were able to have a really good conversation about demilitarization and come to sort of a common ground.” Her experience points to the importance of disagreement existing at Punahou, even if the opportunities to use them feel evenly distributed.
The school’s response to moments of political tension on campus reveals a fundamental preference for education over demonstration. When students sought to establish a Turning Point USA chapter at Punahou, Dr. Latham made suggestions reflecting a broader educational principle, emphasizing the value of clubs that create “a space for students to think for themselves, to develop their own arguments, and to collaborate with others.” He continued, “I want to have clubs that are organized by Punahou students…My suggestion to them was that they create a Punahou-specific conservative student organization. They could get a faculty advisor. We would provide the same support to that group as we would to any other support, any other group.” His concern was that affiliating with an established national organization would mean students “taking direction from another body, or being expected to adhere to an ideological line that another body might define.” Notably, he applied the same standard across the political spectrum in responding to students who wished to organize a progressive student club as well: “I’d really prefer you organize your own student group that is independent in nature. Call it whatever you want. And we’ll also support and promote them. I think that’s a good practice to preserve that space for more independent discussion.”
What concerns me most is how we, as future Punahou alumni, will stand beyond the protective walls of Punahou. As we make our imprints on the world, as we face disagreements and moments of weakness, how can we guarantee that our response will be curiosity rather than fear and contempt? Dr.Latham shares this concern at a national scale, sharing, “If you look at our political culture nationally right now, the capacity to have a rational, thoughtful discussion about a controversial issue, even with somebody you really disagree with, our broader capacity to do that, I worry, is diminishing. And that’s not a good thing.” If schools have a political responsibility, I’d argue that it is to build in the youth a capacity to comprehend those who see the world entirely differently and to keep questioning our own questions.