The Dark History of Yale University: Power, Privilege, and Complicity in Genocide

Yale University, long celebrated for its intellectual prestige and political influence, has carefully cultivated an image of moral and civic leadership. But beneath the carefully constructed brand lies a history mired in racism, elitism, secrecy, and direct complicity in acts of violence—including genocide. From its early support of settler colonialism to its modern entanglements with war profiteering and imperial policy, Yale has not simply been a passive observer of atrocity, but in many cases, an active participant or enabler.

Founded in 1701 on land taken from the Quinnipiac people, Yale’s earliest benefactors enriched themselves through slavery, land theft, and violent religious expansionism. The institution was deeply tied to Puritan theology and settler colonialism, which justified the displacement and extermination of Native peoples in New England and beyond. Yale College educated generations of ministers, judges, and politicians who championed Manifest Destiny and Indian removal policies—ideologies and practices that resulted in the deaths and forced migrations of hundreds of thousands of Indigenous people across the continent. In this sense, Yale was not only born of colonialism; it helped write and preach the intellectual and religious justifications for genocide.

In the 19th and early 20th centuries, Yale’s scientific and anthropological institutions played an instrumental role in legitimizing eugenics and racial pseudoscience. Professors affiliated with Yale promoted theories of white supremacy, while the university's alumni became architects of U.S. imperialism abroad. Yale graduates were deeply involved in violent campaigns in the Philippines, Latin America, and the Caribbean—campaigns that destroyed communities, repressed national movements, and imposed economic and racial hierarchies through military and corporate force.

In the 20th century, Yale became an incubator for the Cold War security state. The university cultivated close ties with the CIA and other intelligence agencies. Skull and Bones, Yale’s secret society, became a recruitment pipeline for covert operations that supported right-wing dictatorships and death squads across the Global South. Yale men were involved in U.S.-backed coups in Iran (1953), Guatemala (1954), Chile (1973), and Indonesia (1965)—many of which led to mass killings and long-term political repression. Some of these operations resulted in genocidal violence, such as the U.S.-supported extermination of hundreds of thousands of suspected communists in Indonesia.

Yale's complicity has continued into the 21st century. The university and its alumni were instrumental in shaping the so-called War on Terror, which led to the invasion of Iraq—a war based on lies, responsible for hundreds of thousands of civilian deaths and the displacement of millions. Yale Law School graduates like John Yoo and Harold Koh wrote or defended legal justifications for torture, targeted killings, and indefinite detention. Others helped normalize drone warfare, which has devastated communities in Pakistan, Yemen, Somalia, and Afghanistan. These are not merely policy failures—they are crimes against humanity in which Yale-educated policymakers, lawyers, and think tank intellectuals have played central roles.

Yale’s investments also raise questions about complicity in structural violence. The university’s massive $40+ billion endowment is largely hidden from public scrutiny, but investigative reporting and activist pressure have revealed connections to fossil fuel companies, weapons manufacturers, and multinational corporations that profit from land dispossession, labor exploitation, and environmental degradation. Yale’s refusal to fully divest from these industries—despite sustained student and faculty protests—aligns it with forces that contribute to ecological collapse and human displacement on a global scale.

In recent years, Yale has made limited efforts to confront its dark history. These include renaming buildings previously honoring staunch defenders of slavery and colonialism, sponsoring research projects on the university’s ties to slavery, and promoting diversity initiatives. However, these gestures, while notable, are overwhelmed by the institution’s long record of harmful acts. The scale and depth of Yale’s complicity in oppression and violence far outstrip these piecemeal reforms, leaving the university’s fundamental structures of power intact and unchallenged.

This is not merely a matter of history. As the world confronts genocide in Gaza, ethnic cleansing in Myanmar, the repression of Uyghurs in China, and the persecution of Indigenous communities in the Amazon, Yale has failed to take meaningful stands. Its silence on current atrocities, particularly those committed or enabled by U.S. allies and business partners, reflects a persistent institutional cowardice masked as neutrality. The university continues to host and celebrate figures implicated in these atrocities while marginalizing the voices of those calling for justice.

Meanwhile, Yale benefits from the labor of underpaid staff and the gentrification of New Haven, all while operating as a tax-exempt institution that hoards wealth rather than redistributing it. Yale’s rhetoric of inclusion and social justice cannot obscure its structural role in global systems of domination and violence.

The dark history of Yale is not a footnote—it is central to understanding how elite education functions in a global empire. Yale has helped shape the world not only through scholarship and leadership, but through conquest, secrecy, and the normalization of genocide. To confront this truth requires more than renaming buildings or commissioning reports. It demands reparations, divestment, decolonization, and a total reimagining of what higher education can and should be.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to report on these institutional contradictions, shining a light on the real consequences of elite complicity. As long as Yale and its peers remain unaccountable, they will continue to reproduce the very systems they claim to critique.

Harvard and Yale Selling Off Private Equity Stakes

Harvard and Yale—titans of American higher education and longtime bellwethers of endowment strategy—are quietly offloading billions in private equity holdings. These moves, confirmed through multiple reports and market insiders, signal a significant shift in institutional investing, with potential ripple effects across the higher ed landscape and beyond.

The two Ivies, boasting the largest university endowments in the world ($50.7 billion for Harvard, $40.7 billion for Yale as of 2024), have long championed the “Yale model” of endowment investing: high allocations to illiquid assets such as private equity, venture capital, hedge funds, and real assets like timberland and oil. But the bloom is off the rose.

From Darling to Dilemma

Private equity once promised high returns, portfolio diversification, and access to elite deals not available to public investors. In the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, as traditional markets stagnated, institutions doubled down on alternative investments. For years, this strategy paid off—at least on paper.

But cracks have been forming.

Private equity valuations have come under scrutiny as deal activity has slowed, interest rates have risen, and exits through IPOs and acquisitions have dried up. Many private equity funds are now sitting on aging portfolios—so-called "zombie funds"—that have not returned capital in years. Meanwhile, limited partners like universities are increasingly liquidity-constrained, especially as operating costs rise and tuition-dependent revenues remain fragile.

Harvard Management Company and Yale’s Investment Office, once aggressive buyers, are now sellers on the secondary market. Reports indicate both institutions are using intermediaries to quietly market stakes in private equity funds—often at discounts of 10% to 20%, or more, below net asset value.

A Broader Retreat?

This retreat isn’t just about balance sheet management. It’s a broader reassessment of what endowments should be doing—and what risks they should be bearing.

Universities face mounting scrutiny over their massive, tax-advantaged endowments and their relationships with Wall Street. Critics question why institutions with social missions are entangled in opaque, leveraged, and sometimes predatory industries. Private equity firms, after all, have been deeply involved in sectors like healthcare, housing, for-profit education, and prison services—areas where returns often come at the cost of public welfare.

Moreover, the mismatch between the long lock-up periods of private equity investments and the growing need for financial flexibility is becoming more apparent. University administrators now must navigate volatile geopolitical conditions, student protests over divestment, and uncertain federal funding. Liquidity matters more than it did a decade ago.

The End of the Yale Model?

David Swensen, Yale’s late investment chief, revolutionized university finance with his embrace of illiquid alternatives. But times have changed. While the strategy made Yale’s endowment a model for copycats, today it may represent an outdated orthodoxy.

Harvard and Yale’s pivot may be the beginning of the end for the “Yale model” as we know it. Other institutions—especially smaller endowments that tried to mimic the Ivies—may find themselves stuck with toxic assets, unable to unload them without taking steep losses.

In fact, some mid-tier and small colleges may have to choose between covering operational costs and holding on to underperforming private equity positions. For those with limited financial cushions, the fallout could be existential.

Higher Ed’s Reckoning with Risk

The endowment shift also raises a philosophical question: What is the purpose of university wealth?

As elite schools back away from the riskier corners of Wall Street, perhaps it's time for a broader reckoning—about not just how universities invest, but why. Should institutions built on ideals of knowledge, access, and social progress be hand-in-glove with industries known for wage suppression, regulatory arbitrage, and asset stripping?

Harvard and Yale may be late to that moral realization. But their financial pivot is a sign that even the most powerful players can’t ignore reality forever.

In the age of growing student debt, declining public trust, and ballooning inequality, selling off a few private equity funds is a small move. But it could be the start of a larger shift—one where higher education finally begins to question whether its financial strategies align with its educational mission.

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If you have insights into university endowment strategies or are a whistleblower inside the private equity world, contact us confidentially at Higher Education Inquirer. 

Yale Professor Jason Stanley Leaves for Canada in Protest of U.S. Political Climate

Yale University philosophy professor Jason Stanley, a leading academic in social and political philosophy, has made the bold decision to leave his esteemed position at the Ivy League institution and relocate to Toronto, Canada. His move comes amidst growing concerns about the state of higher education in the U.S. under the Trump administration, a time marked by increased political tension and the administration’s aggressive stance against academic institutions.

In a mid-interview conversation with CNN while walking across the Yale campus, Stanley addressed a group of concerned students who had gathered around him. When asked if he was really leaving, Stanley reassured them, saying, “I love Yale. But Marci, Tim, and I, we’re gonna go defend democracy somewhere else.”

Stanley, who has taught at Yale for 12 years, was clearly frustrated with the direction the United States is heading under the current administration. Known for his scholarly work, including his books How Fascism Works: The Politics of Us and Them and Erasing History: How Fascists Rewrite the Past to Control the Future, Stanley has built a career focusing on the dangers of fascism, epistemology, and social philosophy. His decision to leave the U.S. reflects the increasing anxiety within the academic community regarding the restrictions placed on freedom of expression, especially for those not holding U.S. citizenship.

“Suddenly if you’re not a citizen of the United States, you can’t comment on politics if you’re a professor? That’s crazy,” Stanley told CNN. “That’s not a free society.”

Stanley’s departure has struck a nerve within the academic world, especially after recent events that have heightened concerns about the Trump administration’s policies toward higher education. His decision follows the controversial stance taken by Columbia University, which found itself in the midst of a funding crisis after President Trump threatened to withdraw federal support over allegations that the institution failed to adequately address antisemitic behavior on campus during the Israel-Hamas conflict.

The ongoing threats from the Trump administration against university funding and academic freedom, such as the executive order targeting antisemitism and the recent suspension of federal funds at multiple universities, have exacerbated tensions. Columbia responded by implementing policy changes, including restrictions on face coverings during protests and reviewing its curriculum in response to the administration’s demands.

The situation has also raised alarm about the broader implications for academic institutions. Yale’s academic freedom has not yet been directly challenged by the Trump administration, but the unfolding struggles at other prestigious universities have highlighted the precariousness of academia in the current political climate. The potential for funding cuts and the fear of administrative capitulation are pressing issues for educators, particularly in the humanities and social sciences.

Alongside Stanley, Yale history professors Marci Shore and Timothy Snyder are also moving to the University of Toronto. Both Shore, a specialist in modern European intellectual history, and Snyder, an expert in history and global affairs, have voiced similar concerns about the erosion of academic independence under the current U.S. administration. Snyder remarked that their decision was solidified after the 2024 presidential election, citing a growing fear that university administrations would increasingly bow to political pressure in order to secure federal funding.

“It’s not that I think everyone has put their head down and gotten in line,” Shore explained. “But I think a lot of people have, and I fear that university administrations will, because institutions naturally have an incentive to act in the interest of self-preservation.”

Keith Whittington, a Yale professor and cofounder of the Academic Freedom Alliance, expressed concern over the broader ramifications of these departures. “If you lose your best people who decide to go to other countries, that’s going to have long-term consequences,” Whittington warned, emphasizing the risks to U.S. leadership in scientific research and higher education.

Despite the challenges, Stanley remains resolute in his decision, insisting that it is not a matter of fear but of standing up for democratic values. “I’ll be in a much better position to fight bullies,” Stanley said, signaling his commitment to advocating for democracy and academic freedom from abroad.

In response to Stanley’s departure, Yale University issued a statement acknowledging that while the institution respects the decisions of its faculty members, it remains committed to supporting its academic community. “Yale is proud of its global faculty community,” the university said, “which includes faculty who may no longer work at the institution, or whose contributions to academia may continue at a different home institution.”

For Stanley and his colleagues, the move to Toronto represents not just a change of location, but a deep commitment to continuing the fight for democracy and academic freedom outside the increasingly polarized and politically charged atmosphere of the United States.

Yale Law School Firing Sparks Debate Over Free Speech and the State of American Academia

In a statement shared on social media on March 28th, Helyeh Doutaghi, the Deputy Director of the Law and Political Economy Project at Yale Law School (YLS), revealed that her employment was terminated by the prestigious institution. The firing came just days before Muslims across the world marked the second Eid under the shadow of an ongoing genocide against Palestinian families. Doutaghi’s termination followed her outspoken criticism of Zionist policies in Palestine, igniting a wider conversation about free speech, academic freedom, and institutional silencing in American universities.

According to Doutaghi, the circumstances surrounding her firing raise critical questions about the role of elite educational institutions in suppressing dissent. She criticized universities like Yale, Cornell, Columbia, and Harvard for what she described as the normalization of "fascistic governance." In her statement, Doutaghi argued that these institutions were increasingly functioning as "sites of surveillance and oppression," actively collaborating with state apparatuses to criminalize resistance movements.

Doutaghi's termination was preceded by her being placed on administrative leave in February, following allegations of ties to Samidoun, the Palestinian Prisoner Solidarity Network, which the U.S. government has labeled a terrorist-linked organization. Doutaghi has denied any unlawful affiliation with the group, asserting that she was never given an opportunity for a fair hearing before her abrupt dismissal. In her view, Yale’s actions exemplify a broader trend of academic institutions suppressing pro-Palestinian voices, especially as the geopolitical tensions surrounding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict escalate.

In a chilling warning about the broader implications of her firing, Doutaghi emphasized the troubling precedent her case could set for academic freedom. "This sets a chilling precedent," she wrote. "If any Al bot – or anyone at all – accuses a Yale faculty or student of wrongdoing, that alone can now suffice to end their career." Doutaghi's comments draw attention to concerns about due process in academic settings, especially when external pressures—such as politically motivated surveillance or AI-generated campaigns—are used to target and silence critical voices.

The investigation into Doutaghi's alleged ties to Samidoun came to light after an article in Jewish Onliner, an Israeli publication. However, doubts have been raised about the credibility of the publication. Israeli newspaper Haaretz reported that Jewish Onliner might be an AI-generated bot with potential links to the Israeli government and military, further casting uncertainty on the investigation’s motives. Doutaghi’s attorney, Eric Lee, pointed out that the basis for the investigation was flimsy, with the sole evidence being an online article, raising serious questions about the fairness and transparency of Yale’s decision-making process.

Doutaghi has also linked her termination to broader shifts in U.S. policy, particularly under the Trump administration, which she claims has escalated attacks on noncitizen students and faculty supporting Palestinian human rights. For Doutaghi, her firing is symptomatic of a deeper crisis in American institutions, one that reflects the decline of what she calls "Western liberal democracy." She contends that these systems, despite their outward commitment to democracy and human rights, are built to serve the interests of the propertied classes, often at the expense of marginalized communities.

The implications of Doutaghi’s termination extend beyond her personal case, signaling a potentially dangerous precedent for academic freedom in the U.S. As universities increasingly become sites of ideological conformity, there is growing concern that dissenting voices—particularly those in solidarity with Palestine—are being systematically silenced. The firing raises questions about the extent to which academic institutions are willing to protect free speech in the face of external political and social pressures.

In the wake of Doutaghi’s dismissal, students, faculty members, and advocacy groups have rallied in support of her, condemning Yale’s actions as an affront to academic freedom. Protests have erupted at various campuses, demanding accountability from university administrators and calling for the protection of Palestinian human rights.

As the case continues to unfold, the larger debate about the role of universities in upholding democratic values, academic freedom, and social justice remains at the forefront. Doutaghi’s statement serves as a reminder of the precarious nature of dissent in today’s political climate, where even academic institutions that once stood as bastions of free thought and expression are increasingly vulnerable to the pressures of political influence and ideological control.

The question now facing the broader academic community is how to respond to the growing trend of censorship and silencing on campuses. Will institutions like Yale take a stand in defense of free speech, or will they continue to bow to external political and social pressures? The answers to these questions will have far-reaching consequences for the future of academic freedom in the United States.

Ivory Towers and Pharma Profits: How Higher Education Fuels Big Pharma’s Bottom Line

As public outrage grows over the astronomical cost of prescription drugs, a quieter but equally consequential dynamic demands scrutiny: the entanglement of higher education institutions with the pharmaceutical industry. Universities—especially those with medical schools and biomedical research centers—have become indispensable players in Big Pharma’s pipeline. While these partnerships often promise innovation and public benefit, they also raise troubling questions about academic independence, ethical boundaries, and the commodification of publicly funded science.

Medical Education: A Curriculum Under Influence

Medical schools are tasked with training future physicians in evidence-based care. Yet many institutions maintain financial ties with pharmaceutical companies that risk compromising the integrity of their curricula. Faculty members often receive consulting fees, research grants, and honoraria from drug manufacturers. In some cases, industry-sponsored materials and lectures are integrated into coursework, subtly shaping how students understand disease treatment and drug efficacy.

This influence extends beyond the classroom. Continuing medical education (CME), a requirement for practicing physicians, is frequently funded by pharmaceutical companies. Critics argue that this model incentivizes the promotion of branded drugs over generics or non-pharmaceutical interventions, reinforcing prescribing habits that benefit corporate interests more than patient outcomes.

University Research: Innovation or Outsourcing?

Academic research is a cornerstone of pharmaceutical development. Universities conduct early-stage investigations into disease mechanisms, drug targets, and therapeutic compounds—often funded by public grants. Pharmaceutical companies then step in to commercialize promising discoveries, assuming control over clinical trials, regulatory approval, and marketing.

While this division of labor can accelerate drug development, it also shifts the locus of control. Universities may prioritize research that aligns with industry interests, sidelining studies that lack commercial appeal. Moreover, corporate sponsors can exert influence over publication timelines, data interpretation, and intellectual property rights. The result is a research ecosystem where profit potential increasingly dictates scientific inquiry.

Case Studies: The University-Pharma Nexus in Action

Harvard University Harvard Medical School has faced scrutiny over the financial relationships between its faculty and pharmaceutical companies. A 2009 investigation by The New York Times revealed that more than 1,600 Harvard-affiliated physicians had financial ties to drug and medical device makers. The controversy sparked student protests and led to reforms requiring faculty to disclose industry ties and limiting pharma-funded materials in classrooms.

Harvard’s research enterprise is deeply intertwined with Big Pharma. Its partnership with Novartis in developing personalized cancer treatments—particularly CAR-T cell therapy—illustrates how academic science feeds into high-cost commercial therapies. While the treatment represents a breakthrough, its price tag (often exceeding $400,000 per patient) raises questions about the public’s return on investment.

Yale University Yale’s collaboration with GlaxoSmithKline (GSK) on PROTACs (proteolysis-targeting chimeras) showcases the university’s role in pioneering new drug technologies. Under the agreement, Yale and GSK formed a joint research team to advance PROTACs from lab concept to clinical candidate. GSK gained rights to use the technology across multiple therapeutic areas, while Yale stood to receive milestone payments and royalties.

Yale’s Center for Clinical Investigation (YCCI) saw an 850% increase in industry-sponsored trials between 2006 and 2019. To address concerns about equity, YCCI launched the Cultural Ambassador Program to diversify trial participation. While this initiative promotes inclusivity, it also serves the interests of pharmaceutical sponsors seeking broader demographic data for regulatory approval.

University of Bristol (UK) The University of Bristol has maintained a decade-long partnership with GSK, spanning vaccine development, childhood disease research, and oral health. GSK funds PhD studentships and undergraduate placements and collaborates on data integrity initiatives. While the partnership aims to improve global health outcomes, it also serves GSK’s need to secure early-stage innovation and talent.

Temple University Temple’s Moulder Center for Drug Discovery Research exemplifies the shift toward academic-led drug discovery. Pharmaceutical companies increasingly rely on centers like this to conduct early-stage research, reducing their own financial risk. As patents expire and blockbuster drugs lose exclusivity, pharma firms turn to universities to replenish their pipelines—often with taxpayer-funded science.

ETH Zurich (Switzerland) ETH Zurich has become a hub for synthetic organic and medicinal chemistry, attracting partnerships with major pharmaceutical firms. Researchers at ETH conduct foundational work that pharma companies later commercialize. This reflects a broader trend: the outsourcing of riskier, cost-intensive research to academic institutions, often without proportional public benefit.

The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers

Beyond research and education, elite university medical centers have long been implicated in systemic inequality and exploitation. As detailed in The Dark Legacy of Elite Medical Centers, these institutions have historically treated marginalized and low-income patients as expendable research subjects. The term “Medical Apartheid,” coined by Harriet Washington, captures the racial and class-based exploitation embedded in American medical history.

The disparities extend to labor conditions as well. Support staff—often immigrants and people of color—face low wages, poor working conditions, and job insecurity, despite being essential to hospital operations. Meanwhile, early-career researchers and postdocs, many from working-class backgrounds, endure long hours and precarious employment while driving the innovation that fuels Big Pharma’s profits.

Even diversity initiatives at these institutions often fall short, focusing on optics rather than structural reform. As the article argues, “The institutional focus on ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion’ often overlooks the more significant structural issues, such as the affordability of education, the class-based access to healthcare, and the economic barriers that continue to undermine the ability of disadvantaged individuals to receive quality care.”

Technology Transfer and Patents: The Profit Pipeline

Many universities have established technology transfer offices to manage the commercialization of academic discoveries. These offices negotiate licensing agreements with pharmaceutical companies, often securing royalties or equity stakes in exchange. While such arrangements can generate substantial revenue—especially for elite institutions—they also entangle universities in the profit-driven logic of the pharmaceutical market.

This entanglement has real-world consequences. Drugs developed with public funding and academic expertise are frequently priced out of reach for many patients. The Bayh-Dole Act of 1980, which allows universities to patent federally funded research, was intended to spur innovation. But critics argue it has enabled the privatization of public science, with universities acting as gatekeepers to life-saving treatments.

Ethical Crossroads: Transparency and Reform

The growing influence of Big Pharma in higher education has prompted calls for greater transparency and accountability. Some institutions have implemented conflict-of-interest policies, requiring faculty to disclose financial ties and limiting industry-sponsored events. Student-led movements have also emerged, demanding reforms to ensure that education and research serve the public good rather than corporate profit.

Yet systemic change remains elusive. The financial incentives are substantial, and the boundaries between academia and industry continue to blur. Without robust oversight and a recommitment to academic independence, universities risk becoming complicit in a system that prioritizes shareholder value over human health.

Rethinking the Role of Higher Ed and Medicine

Higher education institutions occupy a unique position in society—as centers of knowledge, innovation, and public trust. Their collaboration with Big Pharma is not inherently problematic, but it must be guided by ethical principles and a commitment to transparency. As the cost of healthcare continues to rise, universities must critically examine their role in the pharmaceutical ecosystem and ask whether their pursuit of profit is undermining their mission to serve the public.

The legacy of elite university medical centers is not just about innovation—it’s also about inequality. Until these institutions confront their role in perpetuating racial and class-based disparities, their contributions to public health will remain compromised.

Sources:

• The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers

• Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health: Pharma and Digital Innovation in China

• Harvard Business School Case Study: Novartis and Personalized Cancer Treatment

• Yale Law School: Pharmaceutical Public-Private Partnerships

• GSK and Yale PROTAC Collaboration Press Release

• Yale Center for Clinical Investigation Case Study

• University of Bristol and GSK Case Study

• Pharmaphorum: Universities and Pharma Companies Need Each Other

• Chemical & Engineering News: The Great Pharmaceutical-Academic Merger

Elite Universities and Their Failure to Uphold International Law: A Crisis of Legitimacy

Elite U.S. universities have long touted their role as stewards of global justice, incubators of human rights doctrine, and thought leaders in international law. They house prestigious law schools, attract students from around the world, and produce judges, diplomats, and policymakers. Yet, these same institutions have increasingly turned a blind eye—or actively participated in—violations of international law, human rights abuses, and the erosion of legal norms at home and abroad.

Universities like Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Stanford, NYU, and Georgetown are global brands. Their law schools educate future presidents, Supreme Court justices, and CEOs. But when it comes to confronting real-time violations of international law—whether committed by the U.S. government or its allies—these institutions often retreat into silence, complicity, or even defense of the status quo.

Selective Outrage and Legal Amnesia

International law, including the Geneva Conventions and principles of the United Nations Charter, is supposed to guide nations in the prevention of war crimes, the treatment of civilians, and the right to self-determination. These principles are taught in law school lecture halls, debated in journals, and celebrated at graduation speeches. But when those same principles are tested in real-world scenarios—such as U.S. drone warfare, the occupation of Palestinian territories, or the extrajudicial imprisonment at Guantanamo Bay—most elite universities fail to take a public stance.

In fact, many of these institutions benefit materially from their silence. Faculty and administrators maintain close relationships with defense contractors, intelligence agencies, and multinational law firms representing authoritarian regimes and fossil fuel giants. Think tanks embedded within these universities routinely provide legal rationales for otherwise indefensible policies.

Case Studies in Complicity

Harvard Law School, whose alumni include presidents and Supreme Court justices, has been notably quiet about U.S. breaches of the Geneva Conventions in conflicts stretching from Iraq to Gaza. Harvard’s investments in defense contractors and its deference to powerful alumni networks reflect an institutional unwillingness to confront crimes committed by the U.S. or its allies.

Yale Law School, home of the influential “Yale School” of international law thought, has similarly struggled with moral clarity. Professors who once championed humanitarian intervention now rationalize indefinite detention and drone strikes, couching them in legal gray zones. Yale’s silence on Israeli settlements and civilian casualties in Gaza, for example, stands in contrast to its professed commitments to legal equity.

Columbia Law School, positioned in the heart of the global media capital, hosts programs in human rights and war crimes. Yet the university has faced internal protests over its refusal to divest from companies involved in surveillance, policing, and foreign occupation. Despite these internal challenges, the administration has largely dismissed demands to reassess its complicity.

Georgetown Law, with deep ties to U.S. foreign policy establishments, often operates more like an extension of Washington's power than a challenger to it. While its Center on National Security hosts high-level panels and publishes white papers, it rarely critiques systemic violations of international law committed by the U.S. or NATO partners.

The Shield of Academic Neutrality

When challenged, university leaders often invoke the idea of “academic neutrality” or “institutional independence” to avoid taking positions. But neutrality in the face of injustice is not a virtue—it’s a form of complicity. As legal philosopher Martti Koskenniemi has argued, international law is only as powerful as the political will behind it. That will is shaped in part by elite academic institutions, which lend legitimacy—or provide cover—to state actors.

The Silence on Gaza and Genocide

Perhaps the most glaring recent example is the mass death and destruction in Gaza. Despite mounting allegations of war crimes and even genocide by international legal scholars and UN officials, most elite universities have failed to issue even symbolic statements of concern. Law school deans who routinely opine on Supreme Court rulings and domestic civil rights have stayed quiet, likely fearing backlash from donors, trustees, and political pressure groups.

Student groups and faculty have filled the moral vacuum—often at great personal and professional risk. At Columbia, Harvard, and Stanford, students protesting university complicity have faced suspensions, smear campaigns, and law enforcement crackdowns. Whistleblowing professors have been marginalized, and demands for ethical divestment have been stonewalled.

A Crisis of Legitimacy

This failure of moral and legal leadership reveals a deeper legitimacy crisis within U.S. higher education. If institutions that claim to produce the world’s legal elite cannot confront state-sanctioned crimes or uphold the most basic tenets of the international legal system, then what purpose do they serve—other than to reproduce power and shield the powerful?

Until elite universities and their law schools are willing to challenge the legal fictions that justify war, occupation, and systemic inequality, they will remain complicit in the erosion of the very legal norms they claim to champion. The world is watching—and so are their students.

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Sources:

• Harvard Law Review, Silence and Complicity: Legal Academia and the War on Terror, Vol. 137 (2024)

• Columbia Spectator, “Protests and Divestment Demands: Columbia’s Reckoning with Its Global Ties” (2023)

• The Intercept, “Law Schools and the Legalization of Empire” (2022)

• United Nations Human Rights Council Reports on the Situation in the Occupied Palestinian Territory (2023–2025)

• Center for Constitutional Rights, Guantánamo and the Failure of Legal Institutions (2023)

Which U.S. Colleges Spend the Most on Student Support? (Studocu)

[Editor's note: The Higher Education Inquirer is presenting this press release for information only. This is not an endorsement of the organizations mentioned in article.]

• Ivy League institutions like Yale, Harvard, and MIT top the list, spending over $100K per student on academic support.
• Yale University leads in both categories, investing $225K per student in academic support and $53K in student services.
• A modest but consistent correlation was found between student support spending and graduation rates, particularly among top-tier institutions.

A new report by Studocu highlights the U.S. colleges investing most heavily in academic and student services and explores whether that support is linked to graduation outcomes.

Drawing on the most recent fiscal year data from IPEDS (2023), the study found a positive relationship between support spending and graduation rates, suggesting that per-student spending on departments which directly support student learning and wellbeing improve outcomes.

The analysis covered over 1,000 degree-granting institutions across the United States, each enrolling more than 100 undergraduate students. Financial data was compared against graduation rates to uncover trends in institutional spending.

The findings show that top-tier schools like Yale, Harvard, and MIT spend significantly more per student than the national average:

• National average for academic support: $2,933 per student
• National average for student services: $4,828 per student

Top Institutions on Academic Support per Student

Top Institutions on Student Services per Student

When comparing graduation rates to institutional spending, the study found:

• A 0.259 correlation between academic support spending and graduation rates
• A 0.23 correlation between student services spending and graduation rates

While the correlations indicate a positive relationship between support spending and graduation rates, it's important to note that other factors also play a role.

However, the findings still suggest that well-funded student support services may provide meaningful benefits especially for students who might otherwise might have failed.

 

About Studocu:

StuDocu is a student-to-student knowledge exchange platform where students can share knowledge, college notes, and study guides.

Methodology

Institutions were selected based on the following criteria:

• Enrollment of over 100 undergraduate students
• Offering degree-granting programs
• For multi-campus institutions, the largest campus was used

Institutions were divided into tiers:

• Tier 1: This typically includes Ivy League schools (Harvard, Yale, Princeton, etc.), as well as other top-tier highly selective institutions such as Stanford, MIT, and Caltech.
• Tier 2: This category can include strong public universities, well-regarded liberal arts colleges, and other private universities. Examples might include schools like NYU, the University of Michigan.
• Tier 3: These institutions are often regional colleges and universities.

Community colleges and technical colleges were not included in the study.

Spending was calculated per undergraduate student, and graduation rate was used as the primary indicator of academic success.

Sources

Data for this analysis was obtained from the IPEDS, including:

• Graduation rates
• Undergraduate enrolment
• Academic support and student services expenditures

Caveats

• Financial data is current through the 2023 fiscal year * the latest available data
• Institutional reporting standards may vary, between public, private non-profit, and for-profit institutions
  

When Was Higher Education Truly a Public Good? (Glen McGhee)

Like staring at the Sun too long, that brief window in time, when higher ed was a public good, has left a permanent hole for nostalgia to leak in, becoming a massive black hole for trillions of dollars, and a blind-spot for misguided national policies and scholars alike. 

The notion that American higher education was ever a true public good is largely a myth. From the colonial colleges to the neoliberal university of today, higher education has functioned primarily as a mechanism of class reproduction and elite consolidation—with one brief, historically anomalous exception during the Cold War.

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Colonial Roots: Elite Reproduction in the New World (1636–1787)

The first American colleges—Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, and a handful of others—were founded not for the benefit of the public, but to serve narrow elite interests. Their stated missions were to train Protestant clergy and prepare the sons of wealthy white families for leadership. They operated under monopoly charters and drew funding from landowners, merchants, and slave traders.

Elihu Yale, namesake of Yale University, derived wealth from his commercial ties to the East India Company and the slave trade. Harvard’s early trustees owned enslaved people. These institutions functioned as “old boys’ clubs,” perpetuating privilege rather than promoting equality. Their educational mission was to cultivate “gentlemen fit to govern,” not citizens of a democracy.

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Private Enterprise in the Republic (1790–1860)

After independence, the number of colleges exploded—from 19 in 1790 to more than 800 by 1880—but not because of any commitment to the public good. Colleges became tools for two private interests: religious denominations seeking influence, and land speculators eager to raise property values.

Ministers often doubled as land dealers, founding small, parochial colleges to anchor towns and boost prices. State governments played a minimal role, providing funding only in times of crisis. The Supreme Court’s 1819 Dartmouth College decision enshrined institutional autonomy, shielding private colleges from state interference. Even state universities were created mainly out of interstate competition—every state needed its own to “keep up with its neighbors.”

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Gilded Age and Progressive Era: Credential Capitalism (1880–1940)

By the late 19th century, industrial capitalism had transformed higher education into a private good—something purchased for individual advancement. As family farms and small businesses disappeared, college credentials became the ticket to white-collar respectability.

Sociologist Burton Bledstein called this the “culture of professionalism.” Families invested in degrees to secure middle-class futures for their children. By the 1920s, most students attended college not to seek enlightenment, but “to get ready for a particular job.”

Elite universities such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton solidified their dominance through exclusive networks. C. Wright Mills later observed that America’s “power elite” circulated through these same institutions and their associated clubs. Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital helps explain this continuity: elite universities convert inherited privilege into certified merit, preserving hierarchy under the guise of meritocracy.

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The Morrill Acts: Public Promise, Private Gains (1862–1890)

The Morrill Act of 1862 established land-grant colleges to promote “practical education” in agriculture and engineering. While often cited as a triumph of public-minded policy, the act’s legacy is ambivalent.

Land-grant universities were built on land expropriated from Indigenous peoples—often without compensation—and the 1890 Morrill Act entrenched segregation by mandating separate institutions for Black Americans in the Jim Crow South. Even as these colleges expanded access for white working-class men, they simultaneously reinforced racial and economic hierarchies.

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Cold War Universities: The Brief Public Good (1940–1970)

For roughly thirty years, during World War II and the Cold War, American universities functioned as genuine public goods—but only because national survival seemed to depend on them.

The GI Bill opened college to millions of veterans, stabilizing the economy and expanding the middle class. Massive federal investments in research transformed universities into engines of technological and scientific innovation. The university, for a moment, was understood as a public instrument for national progress.

Yet this golden age was marred by exclusion. Black veterans were often denied GI Bill benefits, particularly in the South, where discriminatory admissions and housing policies blocked their participation. The “military-industrial-academic complex” that emerged from wartime funding created a new elite network centered on research universities like MIT, Stanford, and Berkeley.

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Neoliberal Regression: Education as a Private Commodity (1980–Present)

After 1970, the system reverted to its long-standing norm: higher education as a private good. The Cold War’s end, the tax revolt, and the rise of neoliberal ideology dismantled the postwar consensus.

Ronald Reagan led the charge—first as California governor, cutting higher education funding by 20%, then as president, slashing federal support. He argued that tuition should replace public subsidies, casting education as an individual investment rather than a social right.

Since 1980, state funding per student has fallen sharply while tuition at public universities has tripled. Students are now treated as “customers,” and universities as corporations—complete with branding departments, executive pay packages, and relentless tuition hikes.

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The Circuit of Elite Network Capital

Today, the benefits of higher education flow through a closed circuit of power that links elite universities, corporations, government agencies, and wealthy families.

1. Elite Universities consolidate wealth and prestige through research funding, patents, and endowments.

2. Corporations recruit talent and license discoveries, feeding the same institutions that produce their executives.

3. Government and Military Agencies are staffed by alumni of elite universities, reinforcing a revolving door of privilege.

4. Elite Professions—law, medicine, finance, consulting—use degrees as gatekeeping mechanisms, driving credential inflation.

5. Wealthy Families invest in elite education as a means of preserving status across generations.

What the public receives are only residual benefits—technologies and medical innovations that remain inaccessible without money or insurance.

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Elite Network Capital, Not Public Good

The idea of higher education as a public good has always been more myth than reality. For most of American history, colleges and universities have functioned as institutions of elite reproduction, not engines of democratic uplift.

Only during the extraordinary conditions of the mid-20th century—when global war and ideological conflict made mass education a national imperative—did higher education briefly align with the public interest.

Today’s universities continue to speak the language of “public good,” but their actions reveal a different truth. They serve as factories of credentialism and as nodes in an elite network that translates privilege into prestige. What masquerades as a public good is, in practice, elite network capital—a system designed not to democratize opportunity, but to manage and legitimize inequality.

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Sources:
Labaree (2017), Bledstein (1976), Bourdieu (1984, 1986), Mills (1956), Geiger (2015), Thelin (2019), and McGhee (2025).

Higher Education – Nowhere to Go (Gary Roth)

 “All we want are the facts, ma’am.” Jack Webb, from the television series, Dragnet (1951-1959)

If it were a matter of the facts alone, the right-wing attack on higher education would be unintelligible. From the attacks, one might think that the college scene is hugely skewed in favor of the underrepresented students towards whom diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives are directed. Yet, a quick glance at census data (Chart 1) shows that collegiate admissions fairly accurately reflect the diversity that marks the population as a whole.

DEI initiatives are focused on the racial and ethnic differentials that have characterized the admission, retention, and graduation of college students, as defined by the broad demographic categories used in government publications and legislation. While initial enrollment rates have narrowed, they are still considerable gaps between groups, especially when the performance of Asian students are part of the comparison. Whites, Blacks (African Americans), and Hispanics (Latinx) lag some 20-25 percent behind. Larger disparities also define retention and graduation rates, over which colleges and universities seemingly have greater impact.[1] DEI initiatives are aimed at these interlocking factors.

Noteworthy in the data about higher education is the dramatic falloff in White participation. Whites are the only demographic group whose participation in higher education is less than their proportion in the general population, while every other group has either held their own or increased their collegiate participation beyond their presence within the general population.

The situation facing Whites has been interpreted in two broad and seemingly contradictory manners. In one, Whites, especially from the working class, are mired in a deep crisis that manifests in a decline in longevity, catastrophic rates of drug (fentanyl) and alcohol addiction, a paranoid perception of reality that leads to high rates of gun ownership, and a propensity to adopt outlandish theories regarding political behavior.

The other interpretation views Whites as a group that can heavily rely on kinship and friendship networks, neighborhood contacts, and their identity as Whites as means to procure jobs, thus obviating the need for a collegiate education as a pathway to employment. It is also possible that these two interpretations are flipsides of the same phenomenon, of a working class that is both relatively favored (privileged) vis-à-vis underrepresented minorities and deeply depressed regarding its present and future possibilities.

In hindsight, the fault of DEI programs is not their attention to African American and Latinx students, but their failure to include White students in their initiatives. Nonetheless, this limitation does not affirm the right-wing criticisms. Genuine concern would call not for the dismantling of DEI initiates, but for extra funding and a broadened scope. Instead, for the right, it is the group with the lowest rate of participation in higher education that becomes the vantage point for viewing the achievements of everyone else.

CHART 1 – RACIAL & ETHNICITY DIVERSITY^[2]

(in percents)	Higher Education	US Population
Asian	8	6
Black (African American)	13	13
Hispanic (Latinx)	22	19
White	52	59
Two or More Races (Multiracial)	4	2

The right-wing has focused on state universities because of their use of government funds. Less obvious is the attention paid to the privately-governed and privately-endowed top-tier schools such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton (HYP). In 2022, Harvard, Yale, and Princeton each limited their admissions to 2, 3, and 6 percent of their respective applicant pools, a level of selectivity found among other top-tier institutions as well. Considering that one-quarter of 4-year baccalaureate institutions abide by ‘open admissions’ policies, through which any applicant who satisfies the minimum entrance requirements and can afford the tuition and fees is admitted, and that only 10 percent of institutions accept less than half of their applicants, this indeed is a rarified situation.[3]

Each of these three institutions is characterized by a similar student demographic profile:

CHART 2 – RACE AND ETHNICITY AT TOP-TIER INSTITUTIONS^[4]

(in percents)	Harvard	Yale	Princeton
Asian	21	22	24
Black	9	8	8
Hispanic	12	15	10
White	35	35	38
Non-Resident Alien (International)	13	10	12
Two or More Races	7	7	7

Of upmost importance in terms of diversity is that no single group at any of the three institutions dominates demographically, a circumstance true at other top-tier institutions as well. When on campus, everyone belongs to a minority. Top-tier institutions now mirror the situation that developed at urban public institutions a quarter of a century ago. While whites remain the largest group, they no longer form the majority of the student population.

The top-tier colleges have embarked on a huge endeavor to integrate and diversify the top tiers of American society, insofar as their graduates are destined for lofty careers in business, government, the professions, academe, and in the non-profit sector. But despite the diversity at these institutions, traditionally underrepresented groups—specifically, Blacks and Hispanics—remain underrepresented. Diversity has not benefitted them in such a fashion that they attend top-tier colleges in numbers that reflect their overall participation in higher education or their presence in the population at large (Charts 1 and 2).

Alongside the underrepresentation of Blacks and Hispanics comes the underrepresentation of Whites. The group with the highest rates of college enrollment are Asians, yet they have not been a essential component of DEI efforts. Rather, it has been the stagnating middle that has been its focus.

Socioeconomic diversity is another area to which top-tier institutions have turned their attention, a development that began in earnest around the start of this century. In higher education, socioeconomic diversity is typically measured by the percent of students who receive Pell grants, the federally-funded awards that are based on a student’s family income. Complicated formulas determine who is eligible and the size of the award, but roughly, a family of three whose total income is less than $50,000 qualifies for the maximum.

Regardless of the details, the percent of a student body that receives Pell grants gives some measure of its socioeconomic diversity, that is, the degree to which an institution recruits its students from the bottom income tiers of society. In rough terms, it is a measure of an institution’s appeal to applicants from working- and lower-middle class backgrounds, groups for whom access to top-tier institutions has been extremely limited.

At HYP, nearly one in five students are drawn from these two strata. This remarkable transformation has been made possible by the extensive endowments (in the billions of dollars) at each of the institutions:

CHART 3 – SOCIOECONOMIC DIVERSITY AT TOP-TIER INSTITUTIONS[5]

(in percents)	Harvard	Yale	Princeton
Socioeconomic Diversity	16	19	20

In terms of class, race, and ethnicity as a composite, these institutions have achieved a level of diversity that few other institutions of higher education in the US have been able to match. In this broad sense, the top-tier institutions are the model for DEI initiatives across higher education and also the target for criticisms of those initiatives.

It is cheaper for all students, except for the wealthiest, to attend schools such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton than to attend nearby publicly-funded flagship institutions. For a family with an annual income under $30,000, the out-of-pocket contribution (costs minus grants) calculates to $5,900. Were that same student to attend the flagship public university in Massachusetts, UMass-Amherst, the out-of-pocket contribution would be $10,858. Analogous calculations are possible for all income groups except for the very highest. Only top-earning families face a situation where it is cheaper to attend a public flagship than a private top-tier institution:

CHART 4 - ANNUAL NET COST OF ATTENDANCE[6]

(family income)	Harvard	UMass-Amherst
Less than $30,000	$5,900	$10,858
$30,001 - $48,000	$3,002	$11,824
$48,001 - $75,000	$4,180	$15,768
$75,001 - $110,000	$17,037	$22,651
Over $110,001	$54,634	$29,809

Similar juxtapositions are possible for Yale and the University of Connecticut-Storrs, Princeton and nearby Rutgers-New Brunswick, and all other top-tier institutions in comparison to the flagship public universities in their respective states.

Yet, as diverse as the top-tier institutions are, they still lag higher education in general, where nearly one in three (30 percent) receive an income-based federal (Pell) grant. As with elsewhere in higher education, the ability-to-pay remains a primary consideration of the admissions process.

The next developments within higher education are far from clear, if only because the global situation in which it is embedded is undergoing a rapid and thoroughgoing transformation. It is hard to imagine that colleges and universities will be able to move beyond the levels of diversity they have achieved so far. Not even the wealthiest of collegiate institutions have been able to assemble student bodies that faithfully reflect the diversity of the population.

Collegiate enrollments have stagnated for over a decade already, and all collegiate enterprises—except for the wealthy, top-tier institutions—are scrambling to shore up their financing. Government largesse, during an era in which any large increase in public spending threatens to re-inflate the economy, is not to be expected, no matter who is in control.

The liberal agenda is stalled and in any case aims to maintain the status quo of the recent past, no matter how inadequate it has been. The right-wing agenda is focused on budget cuts as a means to reduce taxes, primarily for people who already squander their money in speculative investments and junkets into outer space. Perhaps the right-wing attack on higher education is best understood in this light, not according to the facts but as an off-kilter means to cut government spending and also undermine any commitment to social goals that might get in the way. Neither liberal society nor its right-wing corollary has a vision of a better future.

[1] Jennifer Ma and Matea Pender, “Education Pays 2023: The Benefits of Higher Education for Individuals and Society,” College Board, Education Pays 2023, Figures 1.1B, 1.6A; A. Gardner, A., “Persistence and Retention: Fall 2020 Beginning Postsecondary Student Cohort,” June 2022, National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, PersistenceRetention2022.pdf, Figure 2a.

[2] National Center for Education Statistics. Digest of Education Statistics 2023, Digest of Education Statistics-Most Current Digest Tables, Tables 101.20, 306.10.

[3] National Center for Education Statistics. “Characteristics of Degree-Granting Postsecondary Institutions,” August 2023, Characteristics of Degree-Granting Postsecondary Institutions.

[4] US Department of Education, 10 October 2024, College Scorecard. For each institution, see the listings under Campus Diversity, Race/Ethnicity.

[5] US Department of Education, 10 October 2024, College Scorecard. For each institution, see the listings under Campus Diversity, Socio-Economic Diversity.

[6] US Department of Education, 10 October 2024, College Scorecard. For each institution, see the listings under Cost, Average Annual Cost.