The Passing of a Mentor

I learned from a colleague this weekend that Stephen Cox, a master in the world of literary studies, passed away recently. He was someone who had an instrumental influence on shaping my career path—I, quite literally, might not be where I am without him—and his massive intelligence, sharp wit, and generous spirit influenced countless others over many decades in the movement for individualism and liberty. He was a talented writer, a respected teacher, and a powerful light in a dimming culture.

Dr. Cox joined the faculty of UC-San Diego in 1976 and published nearly a dozen books and countless articles and book chapters in a variety of areas, including literary theory, Christianity, the prison system, libertarian politics, and more. He was the editor at libertyunbound.com for decades, where he wrote one of my favorite monthly columns, “Word Watch,” about the quirks of the English language in political culture.

Here’s a short clip from ReasonTV where you can hear some of his libertarian views.

But it was his chapter on Willa Cather’s capitalist message in O Pioneers! that changed the course of my professional life. His book that he co-edited with Paul Cantor, Literature and the Economics of Liberty, started a new perspective in literary theory, one that employed free-market economics as a way to analyze authors and characters and offered a challenge to the prevailing Marxism in literature studies.

I was in my Ph.D. program many years ago, and I had just read that volume. But Dr. Cox’s chapter stuck with me the most. It was clear, it had bits of humor, it was smart, and it was something I believed in. I vividly remember thinking, “That’s how I want to write, and that’s the topic I want to write about.”

As I mentioned in my reflection on Dr. Cantor two years ago, I had great difficulty finding faculty in my program to work with me on my dissertation. Almost no one wanted to explore the positive aspects of capitalism in literature (particularly using something mysteriously named the Austrian School of economics), as they were firmly entrenched in Marxist theory. I exhausted the entire English department and still needed one more member to fill out my committee. I was told that I could invite a professor from another university if needed. There were only two names I even considered. I reached out to both Dr. Cantor and Dr. Cox. Both gladly agreed to help me in my time of distress.

Since Dr. Cox wrote the specific chapter on which I wanted to model my project, I chose to work with him, and, for some strange reason, he devoted the next year or so to having chats with me on the phone, adding notes to my drafts, and participating in my dissertation defense, for free, with no public recognition, no reward—just out of service to the proliferation of important artistic and economic ideas.

I was a nobody from a mid-level university clear across the country from the prestigious halls of UCSD, one of the best public universities in the nation, and he was a respected scholar who certainly had more important things to do with his time.

Yet, he helped me. And I’m the teacher, researcher, writer, and thinker I am today, in part, because of him.

I have been fortunate enough to come full circle with Dr. Cox as a co-contributor to a new book, Libertarian Literary and Media Criticism: Essays in Memory of Paul A. Cantor, edited by Columbia University scholar Jo Ann Cavallo. After learning from him all those years ago, I now get to see my name next to his in a table of contents. But he was infinitely smarter and more accomplished than I will ever be, and while we could now be considered equals on paper, and he would happily have me call him Steve, he will always be Dr. Cox to me.

He was an interesting man with many interests. And he was a voice for liberty in a domain that has become hostile to it. I and many other scholars will do our best to follow in his footsteps. He is sorely missed.

Thanks, Dr. Cox.