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Wednesday, April 23, 2025
What’s Happening & Why: HELU Calls on Academic Workers to Stand Up (Higher Ed Labor United)
We have met the enemy...
Class conflict has always been woven into the fabric of American higher education. The struggle over access, affordability, and control of knowledge production has long pitted economic elites against working-class and middle-class students, faculty, and staff. Since the 1960s, these tensions have only deepened, exacerbated by policy shifts that have served to entrench inequality rather than dismantle it.
The 1960s marked a critical turning point in the political battle over higher education. Ronald Reagan’s war on the University of California system while he was governor set the tone for a broader conservative backlash against public higher education, which had been expanding to accommodate the postwar baby boom and increasing calls for racial and economic justice. Reagan’s attacks on free tuition and student activism foreshadowed decades of policies designed to limit public investment in higher education while encouraging privatization and corporate influence.
Since the 1970s, economic inequality in the US has grown dramatically, and higher education has been both a battleground and a casualty in this ongoing class war. Today, the sector is experiencing a long-running meltdown, with no signs of reversal. The following key issues illustrate the breadth of the crisis:
Educated Underclass and Underemployment
The promise of higher education as a pathway to economic security has eroded. A growing segment of college graduates, particularly those from working-class backgrounds, find themselves in precarious employment, often saddled with student debt and working jobs that do not require a degree. The rise of the educated underclass reflects a broader trend of economic stratification in the US, where social mobility is increasingly constrained.
Student Loan Debt Crisis
Student loan debt has surpassed $1.7 trillion, shackling millions of Americans to a lifetime of financial insecurity. The cost of higher education has skyrocketed, while wages have stagnated, leaving many borrowers unable to pay off their loans. Rather than addressing this crisis with systemic reform, policymakers have largely chosen half-measures and band-aid solutions that fail to address the structural drivers of student debt.
The Role of Foreign Students in US Higher Education
The influx of international students, particularly from wealthy families abroad, has been used as a revenue stream for cash-strapped universities. While diversity in higher education is valuable, the prioritization of full-tuition-paying international students over domestic students, especially those from working-class backgrounds, reflects a troubling shift in university priorities from public good to profit-seeking.
Academic Labor and Adjunctification
Higher education’s labor crisis is one of its most glaring failures. Over the past several decades, universities have replaced tenured faculty with contingent faculty—adjuncts and lecturers who work for low wages with no job security. This adjunctification has degraded the quality of education while exacerbating economic precarity for instructors, who now make up the majority of faculty positions in the US.
Identity Politics and DEI as a Substitute for Racial Justice
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives have become a central focus of university policies, yet they often serve as a superficial substitute for genuine racial and economic justice. Originating in part from efforts like those of Ward Connerly in California, DEI programs provide cover for institutions that continue to perpetuate racial and economic inequities, while failing to address core issues such as wealth redistribution, labor rights, and equitable access to higher education.
Privatization of Higher Education
Public funding for universities has declined, and in its place, privatization has surged. Universities have increasingly outsourced services, partnered with corporations, and relied on private donors and endowments to stay afloat. This shift has transformed higher education into a commodity rather than a public good, further marginalizing low-income students and faculty who cannot compete in a system driven by financial interests.
Online Education and the For-Profit Takeover
The rise of online education, fueled by for-profit colleges and Online Program Managers (OPMs), has introduced new layers of exploitation and inequality. While online education promises accessibility, in practice, it has been used to cut costs, lower instructional quality, and extract profits from students—many of whom are left with degrees of questionable value and significant debt.
Alienation and Anomie in Higher Education
As economic pressures mount and academic work becomes more precarious, feelings of alienation and anomie have intensified. Students and faculty alike find themselves disconnected from the traditional mission of higher education as a space for critical thought and democratic engagement. The result is a crisis of meaning that extends beyond the university into broader society.
At the other end of the spectrum, elite universities continue to amass enormous endowments, wielding disproportionate influence over higher education policy and urban development. These institutions contribute to gentrification, driving up housing costs in surrounding areas while serving as gatekeepers to elite status. Their governing structures—dominated by trustees from finance, industry, and politics—reflect the interests of the wealthy rather than the needs of students and faculty.
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The Way Forward
To avoid the full entrenchment of an oligarchic system, those who hold power in higher education must step aside and allow for systemic transformation. This means prioritizing policies that restore public investment in education, dismantle student debt, protect academic labor, and democratize decision-making processes. The fight for a more just and equitable higher education system is inseparable from the broader struggle for democracy itself.
As history has shown, real change will not come from those at the top—it will come from the courageous efforts of students, faculty, and workers who refuse to accept a system built on exploitation and inequality. The time to act is now.
Tuesday, April 22, 2025
More than 100 Champions of Higher Education Join PEN America in "A Pledge to Our Democracy"
In a stirring call to action, more than 100 distinguished former college and university leaders from across the nation have joined PEN America to launch A Pledge to Our Democracy, a unified stand against the growing threats of authoritarianism. Representing every corner of American higher education—from flagship research universities to HBCUs and community colleges—these Champions of Higher Education are rising above politics to defend democratic values, academic freedom, and civic integrity. Backed by PEN America, the Pledge urges Americans to form the broadest possible coalition—students, educators, labor unions, and local leaders alike—to protect the rule of law and ensure the political independence of our institutions. At a time when core liberties are under siege, these seasoned stewards of education are sending a clear message: silence is complicity, and the time to act is now.
Wellsley College: Progressive in Theory. Right Wing in Practice.
The ongoing faculty strike at Wellesley College reveals, in stark terms, the reality of the two-tier faculty system that has come to define much of American higher education. Despite its reputation as a progressive liberal arts institution, Wellesley—like many of its peers—relies heavily on contingent faculty to carry out the core educational mission, while systematically denying them the security and respect afforded to their tenured counterparts.
At Wellesley, non-tenure-track (NTT) faculty make up about 30 percent of the teaching staff but are responsible for teaching 40 percent of the college’s classes. These educators are essential to the functioning of the institution, yet they are paid less, enjoy fewer benefits, and live with little to no job security. Only in January 2024 did they formally unionize, and since May, they have been negotiating what would be their first collective bargaining agreement. The protracted nature of these negotiations—and the college administration’s sluggish response—led to the strike, now stretching into its fourth week.
The strike has exposed the deep fissures between NTT and tenure-track faculty. In response to the disruption, the administration asked tenured professors to take on additional students, offer independent studies, or otherwise fill in for their striking colleagues. No additional compensation was offered. Faculty were given less than 48 hours to decide whether to participate. The move created a moral and professional dilemma: Should tenured faculty support their striking colleagues by refusing to cross the picket line, or should they prioritize the needs of students—particularly those whose immigration status or financial aid depended on maintaining full-time academic standing?
In many ways, this is the real function of the two-tier system. It doesn't just allow institutions to save money by underpaying a significant portion of their teaching workforce. It also creates structural divisions that can be exploited in times of labor unrest. The privileged position of tenured faculty makes them natural pressure points for the administration, able to be guilted or coerced into mitigating the effects of a strike without fundamentally changing the system that caused it.
Driving this system are university presidents and senior administrators who increasingly adopt corporate, anti-labor management styles. These leaders often frame themselves as neutral actors mediating between stakeholders, but their actions tell a different story. In their refusal to negotiate in good faith, their last-minute crisis planning, and their strategic deployment of fear—around students’ financial aid, immigration status, and graduation timelines—they reveal a deep alignment with union-busting tactics more often seen in the private sector. These administrative strategies not only weaken labor solidarity, but also erode the educational environment they claim to protect.
What’s happening at Wellesley is not unique. It mirrors a broader pattern across higher education, where elite institutions rely on the labor of contingent faculty while denying them the protections and prestige of tenure. This isn’t a bug in the system—it is the system. The two-tier model is not about flexibility or innovation, as administrators often claim. It’s about control and cost containment, and when challenged, colleges will invoke crisis—whether financial, academic, or humanitarian—to maintain that control.
In this moment, Wellesley’s administration has positioned tenured faculty as potential strikebreakers, students as bargaining chips, and contingent faculty as expendable. The strike, and the response to it, underscores the urgent need to dismantle the exploitative structures that underpin so many American colleges. Until that happens—and until college presidents are held accountable for anti-labor tactics—students and faculty alike will continue to suffer, not only from instability, but from the erosion of trust and shared purpose in the academic community.
Trump’s War on Public Knowledge: The Dismantling of ERIC and the Erosion of Educational Access
When teachers search for help with lesson plans, parents look for answers on school policies, or researchers dig into the roots of America’s education system, many unknowingly rely on a public treasure: ERIC, the Education Resources Information Center. Behind nearly every meaningful Google result about U.S. education lies this carefully curated public database, an open-access archive of more than 2.1 million education documents funded by the U.S. Department of Education.
But this essential public good—free, accessible, nonpartisan—is now on the chopping block.
Unless something changes in the coming days, ERIC will stop being updated after April 23, marking the end of a 60-year-old institution that has helped educators, researchers, and policymakers base decisions on evidence, not ideology. The shutdown is not the result of budget shortfalls or Congressional gridlock. It’s a deliberate act of sabotage by the Trump administration, hiding behind the bland bureaucratic label of “efficiency.”
Dismantling by Design
ERIC has been a mainstay of U.S. education since the 1960s, originally distributed on microfiche and now operating as a seamless, open-access website used by 14 million people each year. Think of it as the education world’s PubMed—a foundational, publicly funded resource that supports millions of decisions in classrooms and boardrooms alike.
The platform is funded through a five-year contract set to run through 2028. But that contract is now functionally dead thanks to DOGE, the so-called Department of Government Efficiency, a newly created unit within the Trump Department of Education. Though Congress authorized the money, DOGE has refused to release it, effectively forcing ERIC into paralysis.
“After 60 years of gathering hard-to-find education literature and sharing it broadly, the website could stop being updated,” said Erin Pollard Young, the longtime Education Department staffer who oversaw ERIC until she was terminated in a mass layoff of more than 1,300 federal education employees in March.
Let’s be clear: this isn’t just about saving a database. This is about obliterating public access to knowledge—especially knowledge that challenges right-wing narratives about education in America.
The Anti-Intellectual Playbook
This is not an isolated incident. The Trump administration’s hostility toward public institutions, academic research, and intellectual labor has been a central feature of its governance. From banning diversity training to rewriting U.S. history standards, this White House has repeatedly attacked education systems that promote nuance, evidence, or inclusion.
ERIC is now the latest victim in a broader war on independent knowledge. It doesn’t just house peer-reviewed journal articles. It archives what’s known as gray literature—unpublished reports, independent studies, and school district evaluations that are often the only public record of how education really works in practice. These materials often tell inconvenient truths: about inequality, segregation, charter school corruption, and failed policies pushed by corporate reformers.
“Big, important RCTs [randomized controlled trials] are in white papers,” said Pollard Young. “Google and AI can’t replicate what ERIC does.”
But gray literature doesn’t fit neatly into Trumpworld’s political project. It can’t be weaponized into culture war talking points. And perhaps that’s why it’s being buried.
Defunding the Backbone of Evidence
Before being fired, Pollard Young was ordered by DOGE to cut ERIC’s budget nearly in half—from $5.5 million to $2.25 million—a demand she tried to meet, despite knowing the consequences. Forty-five percent of journals would have been removed from the indexing pipeline. The help desk would vanish. Pollard Young herself agreed to take over publisher outreach from contractors to keep the program alive.
Her plan was rejected with a single email in all caps: “THIS IS NOT APPROVED.” Then, silence.
“Without constant curation and updating, so much information will be lost,” she warned. And with her termination, ERIC has no federal steward left.
Make no mistake—ERIC is being suffocated, not because it failed, but because it succeeded too well. It made knowledge available to anyone with an internet connection. And for an administration that thrives on disinformation and division, that’s a threat.
Who Pays the Price?
Educators, researchers, and school leaders will lose the most. But the real tragedy is what this means for public education as a democratic institution. When vital information disappears or becomes inaccessible, it opens the door to policy based on myth and ideology, not reality.
“Defunding ERIC would limit public access to critical education research, hindering evidence-based practices and informed policy decisions,” said Gladys Cruz, past president of the AASA, The School Superintendents Association.
The Department of Education responded not with a defense of ERIC, but with a political attack on its parent agency, the Institute of Education Sciences (IES). A spokesperson claimed IES has “failed to effectively fulfill its mandate,” echoing the administration’s now-familiar strategy: discredit the institution, defund it, then destroy it.
An Urgent Call to Action
Pollard Young, who is still technically on administrative leave, has chosen to speak out, risking retaliation from a vindictive administration to warn the public.
“To me, it is important for the field to know that I am doing everything in my power to save ERIC,” she said. “And also for the country to understand what is happening.”
We should listen.
ERIC is more than a database—it’s a record of our educational history, a safeguard against ignorance, and a tool for building a more equitable future. Killing it isn’t just reckless. It’s ideological.
This is what authoritarianism looks like in the 21st century. Not just book bans and curriculum gag orders, but the slow, quiet erasure of public knowledge—done in the name of “efficiency,” while the lights go out on truth.
Wednesday, April 16, 2025
College Meltdown 2025, Quarter 1: Here we are, at another fork in the road.
“The worst-case scenario is that colleges are involved on both sides of a Second US Civil War between Christian Fundamentalists and neoliberals. Working families will take the largest hit.”
It’s a stark and provocative warning, but one grounded in decades of neoliberal policy, predatory capitalism, and ideological warfare. From our perspective at the Higher Education Inquirer, the College Meltdown is not a future risk—it’s a slow-moving catastrophe already unfolding.
Two Fronts in a Cultural and Economic War
On one side of this looming conflict are Christian fundamentalists who seek to remake public education in their own image: purging curricula of critical perspectives, defunding public universities, and promoting ideological orthodoxy over inquiry.
On the other side are neoliberal technocrats, who have transformed higher education into a marketplace of credentials, debt, and precarious labor. Under their regime, colleges prioritize growth, branding, and profit over education, equity, and labor rights.
Both groups, while ideologically different, are willing to use colleges as instruments of power. In doing so, they turn institutions of higher learning into ideological battlegrounds, undermining their civic purpose.
The Educated Underclass: Evidence of Collapse
One of the most visible outcomes of this dysfunction is the rise of the educated underclass. These are people who did what they were told: they went to college, took on debt, and earned degrees. Yet instead of opportunity, they found instability.
“A large proportion of those who have attended colleges have become part of a growing educated underclass,” Shaulis noted in his interview with Stocker.
This includes:
Adjunct instructors working multiple jobs without benefits
Degree holders underemployed in gig work
Students lured into expensive, low-return programs at subprime colleges
These individuals are too educated for social support but too broke for economic stability. They are the byproduct of a system that treats education as a private investment rather than a public good.
Colleges in Crisis: A Systemic Failure
At the Higher Education Inquirer, our concept of the College Meltdown describes a long-term decline marked by falling enrollment, rising costs, debt peonage, and declining academic labor conditions:
Enrollment has been falling since 2011, with sharp declines in community colleges and regional publics.
Student debt has exploded, with minimal returns for many graduates.
Academic labor is being deskilled, with "robocolleges" relying on underpaid, non-tenure-track staff or automated instruction.
State funding is shrinking, as aging populations drive up Medicaid costs and crowd out investment in public higher education.
Enter the Trump Administration (2025)
The return of Donald Trump to the presidency in 2025 has further accelerated the higher ed crisis. His administration is now actively contributing to the system’s unraveling:
Deregulation and Predatory Practices
Trump’s Department of Education is dismantling federal oversight of for-profit colleges, weakening gainful employment protections and allowing discredited institutions back into the federal aid system. This benefits subprime colleges that trap students in cycles of debt.
Political Weaponization of Higher Ed
Trump-aligned state governments and federal agencies are targeting DEI initiatives, restricting academic freedom, and enforcing ideological conformity. Public colleges are increasingly being used to wage cultural wars.
Funding Cuts and Favoritism
Funding is being diverted from public institutions toward private religious colleges and corporate-friendly training programs. Meanwhile, community colleges and regional universities are being left to die on the vine.
Undermining Debt Relief
Efforts to reform or forgive student loans have been stalled or reversed. Borrowers are left stranded in opaque systems, while private loans surge in popularity—often with worse terms and even less accountability.
A Best-Case vs. Worst-Case Future
When asked what the next few years could look like, I offered a fork in the road:
Best case: Colleges become transparent, accountable, and aligned with the public good, confronting crises like climate change, inequality, and authoritarianism.
Worst case: Colleges become entrenched ideological battlegrounds, deepening inequality and social fragmentation. The educated underclass grows, and higher education becomes an engine of despair rather than mobility.
Conclusion
The College Meltdown is not a singular event—it is a long-term systemic crisis. Under the combined forces of privatization, political polarization, and demographic stress, U.S. higher education is being hollowed out.
As colleges pick sides in a broader culture war, the public mission of higher education is being sacrificed. The working class and the educated underclass are the casualties of a system that promised prosperity but delivered precarity.
In this volatile moment, the future of American higher education may well mirror the broader American crisis: one defined by deepening divides, fraying institutions, and a desperate need for accountability, justice, and reinvention.
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Tuesday, March 25, 2025
FACULTY UNIONS SUE TRUMP ADMIN: NO HALTING SCIENCE RESEARCH TO SUPPRESS SPEECH (American Federation of Teachers)
The faculty and national labor unions allege that the Trump administration improperly canceled Columbia University’s federal funding to compel speech restrictions on campus, damaging both vital scientific research and academic discourse
NEW YORK– The American Association of University Professors (AAUP) and the AFT today sued the Trump administration on behalf of their members for unlawfully cutting off $400 million in federal funding for crucial public health research to force Columbia University to surrender its academic independence. While the Trump administration has been slashing funding since its first days in office, this move represents a stunning new tactic: using cuts as a cudgel to coerce a private institution to adopt restrictive speech codes and allow government control over teaching and learning.
The plaintiffs, who represent members of Columbia University faculty in both the humanities and sciences, allege that this coercive tactic not only undermines academic independence, but stops vital scientific research that contributes to the health and prosperity of all Americans. The terminated grants supported research on urgent issues, including Alzheimer’s disease prevention, fetal health in pregnant women, and cancer research.
The Trump administration’s unprecedented demands, and threats of similar actions against 60 universities, have created instability and a deep chilling effect on college campuses across the country. Although the administration claims to be acting to combat antisemitism under its authority to prevent discrimination, it has completely disregarded the requirements of Title VI, the statute that provides it with that authority–requirements that exist to prevent the government from exercising too much unfettered control over funding recipients. According to the complaint, the cancellation of federal funds also violates the First Amendment, the separation of powers, and other constitutional provisions.
“The Trump administration’s threats and coercion at Columbia are part of a clear authoritarian playbook meant to crush academic freedom and critical research in American higher education. Faculty, students, and the American public will not stand for it. The repercussions extend far beyond the walls of the academy. Our constitutional rights, and the opportunity for our children and grandchildren to live in a democracy are on the line,” said Todd Wolfson, president of the AAUP.
“President Trump has taken a hatchet to American ingenuity, imagination and invention at Columbia to attack academic freedom and force compliance with his political views,” said AFT President Randi Weingarten. “Let’s be clear: the administration should tackle legitimate issues of discrimination. But this modern-day McCarthyism is not just an illegal attack on our nation’s deeply held free speech and due process rights, it creates a chilling effect that hinders the pursuit of knowledge—the core purpose of our colleges and universities. Today, we reject this bullying and resolve to challenge the administration’s edicts until they are rescinded.”
“We’re seeing university leadership across the country failing to take any action to counter the Trump administration’s unlawful assault on academic freedom,” said Reinhold Martin, president of Columbia-AAUP and professor of architecture. “As faculty, we don’t have the luxury of inaction. The integrity of civic discourse and the freedoms that form the basis of a democratic society are under attack. We have to stand up.”
The complaint alleges that the Trump administration’s broad punitive tactics are indicative of an attempt to consolidate power over higher education broadly. According to the complaint, the administration is simultaneously threatening other universities with similar punishment in order to chill dissent on specific topics and speech with which the administration disagrees. Trump administration officials have spoken publicly about their plans to “bankrupt these universities” if they don’t “play ball.”
Universities have historically been engines of innovation in critical fields like technology, national security, and medical treatments. Cuts to that research will ultimately harm the health, prosperity and security of all Americans.
“Columbia is the testing ground for the Trump administration’s tactic to force universities to yield to its control,” said Orion Danjuma, counsel at Protect Democracy. “We are bringing this lawsuit to protect higher education from unlawful government censorship and political repression.”
The lawsuit was filed in the Southern District of New York and names as defendants the government agencies that cut Columbia’s funding on March 7 and signed the March 13 letter to Columbia laying out the government's demands required to restore the funding, including the Department of Justice, Department of Education, Health and Human Services and General Services Administration. The plaintiffs are represented by Protect Democracy and Altshuler Berzon LLP.
The full complaint can be read here.
Thursday, March 13, 2025
The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers
The term Medical Apartheid, as coined by Harriet Washington, refers to the systemic and institutionalized exploitation of Black Americans in medical research and healthcare. Washington’s work examines the history of Black Americans as both victims of medical experimentation and subjects of discriminatory practices that have left deep scars within the healthcare system. Yet, the complex interplay between race and class means that many poor or economically disadvantaged individuals, regardless of race, have also faced neglect and exploitation within these prestigious medical institutions. The legacy of inequality within elite university medical centers, therefore, is not limited to race but is also an issue of class disparity, where wealthier individuals are more likely to receive proper care and access to cutting-edge treatments while the poor are relegated to substandard care.
Historical examples of exploitation and abuse in medical centers are well-documented in Washington's work, and contemporary lawsuits and investigations reveal that these systemic problems still persist. Poor patients, especially those from marginalized racial backgrounds, are often viewed as expendable research subjects. The lawsuit underscores the intersectionality of race and class, arguing that these patients’ socio-economic status exacerbates their vulnerability to medical exploitation, making it easier for institutions to treat them as less than human, especially when they lack the resources or power to contest medical practices.
One of the most critical components of this issue is the stark contrast in healthcare access between the wealthy and the poor. While elite university medical centers boast state-of-the-art facilities, cutting-edge treatments, and renowned researchers, these resources are often not equally accessible to all. Wealthier patients are more likely to have the financial means to receive the best care, not just because of their ability to pay but because they are more likely to be referred to these prestigious centers. Conversely, low-income patients, especially those without insurance or with inadequate insurance, are often forced into overcrowded public hospitals or community clinics that are underfunded, understaffed, and unable to provide the level of care available at elite institutions.
The issue of class inequality within medical care is evident in several key areas. For instance, studies have shown that low-income patients, regardless of race, are less likely to receive timely and appropriate medical care. A 2019 report from the National Academy of Medicine found that low-income patients are often dismissed by healthcare professionals who underestimate the severity of their symptoms or assume they are less knowledgeable about their own health. In addition, patients from lower socio-economic backgrounds are more likely to experience medical debt, which can lead to long-term financial struggles and prevent them from seeking care in the future.
Moreover, class plays a significant role in the underrepresentation of poor individuals in medical research, which is often conducted at elite university medical centers. Historically, clinical trials have excluded low-income participants, leaving them without access to potentially life-saving treatments or advancements. Wealthier individuals, on the other hand, are more likely to be invited to participate in research studies, ensuring they benefit from the very innovations and breakthroughs that these institutions claim to provide.
Class-based disparities are also reflected in the inequities in medical professions. The road to becoming a physician or researcher in these elite institutions is often paved with significant economic barriers. Medical students from low-income backgrounds face steep financial challenges, which can hinder their ability to gain acceptance into prestigious medical schools or pursue advanced research opportunities. Even when low-income students do manage to enter these programs, they often face biases and discrimination in clinical settings, where their abilities are unfairly questioned, and their economic status may prevent them from fully participating in research or other educational opportunities.
Yet, the inequities within these institutions don’t stop at the patients. Behind the scenes, workers at elite university medical centers, particularly those from working-class and marginalized backgrounds, face their own form of exploitation. These medical centers are not only spaces of high medical achievement but also sites of labor stratification, where workers in lower-paying roles are largely people of color and often immigrants. Support staff—such as janitors, food service workers, custodians, and administrative assistants—are often invisible but essential to the functioning of these hospitals and research institutions. These workers face long hours, poor working conditions, and low wages, all while contributing to the daily operations of elite medical centers. Many of these workers, employed through third-party contractors, lack benefits, job security, or protections, leaving them vulnerable to exploitation.
Custodial workers, who are often exposed to hazardous chemicals and physically demanding work, may struggle to make ends meet, despite playing a crucial role in maintaining the hospital environment. Similarly, food service workers—many of whom are Black, Latinx, or immigrant—also work in demanding conditions for low wages. These workers frequently face job insecurity and are not given the same recognition or compensation as the high-ranking physicians, researchers, or administrators in these centers.
At the same time, the stratification in these institutions extends beyond support staff. Medical researchers, residents, and postdoctoral fellows—often young, early-career individuals, many from working-class backgrounds or communities of color—are similarly subjected to precarious working conditions. These individuals perform much of the vital research that drives innovation at these centers, yet they often face exploitative working hours, low pay, and job insecurity. They are the backbone of the institution’s research output but frequently face barriers to advancement and recognition.
The higher ranks of these institutions—senior doctors, professors, and researchers—enjoy financial rewards, job security, and prestige, while those at the lower rungs continue to experience instability and exploitation. This division, which mirrors the economic and racial hierarchies of broader society, reinforces the very class-based inequalities these medical centers are meant to address.
In recent years, some progress has been made in addressing these inequalities. Many elite universities have implemented diversity and inclusion programs aimed at increasing access for underrepresented minority and low-income students in medical schools. Some institutions have also begun to emphasize the importance of cultural competence in training medical professionals, acknowledging the need to recognize and understand both racial and economic disparities in healthcare.
However, critics argue that these efforts, while important, are often superficial and fail to address the root causes of inequality. 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.
In addition to acknowledging racial inequality, it is crucial to tackle the broader issue of class within the healthcare system. The disproportionate number of Black and low-income individuals suffering from poor healthcare outcomes is a direct result of a system that privileges wealth and status over human dignity. To begin addressing these issues, we need to move beyond token diversity initiatives and work toward policy reforms that focus on economic access, insurance coverage, and the equitable distribution of medical resources.
Scholars like Harriet Washington, whose work documents the intersection of race, class, and healthcare inequality, continue to play a pivotal role in bringing attention to these systemic injustices. Washington’s book Medical Apartheid serves as a historical record but also as a call to action for creating a healthcare system that genuinely serves all people, regardless of race or socio-economic status. The fight for healthcare equity must, therefore, be a dual one—against both racial and class-based disparities that have long plagued our medical institutions.
The story of Henrietta Lacks, as told in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot, exemplifies the longstanding exploitation of marginalized individuals in elite university medical centers. The case of Lacks, whose cells were taken without consent by researchers at Johns Hopkins University, brings to light both the historical abuse of Black bodies and the profit-driven nature of academic medical research. Johns Hopkins, one of the most prestigious medical centers in the world, has been complicit in the kind of exploitation and neglect that these institutions are often criticized for—issues that disproportionately affect not only Black Americans but also economically disadvantaged individuals.
The Black Panther Party’s healthcare activism, as chronicled by Alondra Nelson in Body and Soul, also directly challenges elite medical institutions’ failure to provide adequate care for Black and low-income communities. Nelson’s work reflects how, even today, these institutions are often slow to address the systemic issues of health disparities that activists like the Panthers fought against.
Recent lawsuits against elite medical centers further underscore the importance of holding these institutions accountable for their role in perpetuating medical exploitation and inequality. In An American Sickness by Elisabeth Rosenthal, the commercialization of healthcare is explored, highlighting how university hospitals and medical centers often prioritize profits over patient care, leaving low-income and marginalized groups with limited access to treatment. Rosenthal’s work highlights the role these institutions play in a larger system that disproportionately benefits wealthier patients while neglecting the most vulnerable.
A Global Comparison: Countries with Better Health Outcomes
While the United States struggles with systemic healthcare disparities, other nations have shown that equitable healthcare outcomes are possible when class and race are not barriers to care. Nations with universal healthcare systems, such as those in Canada, the United Kingdom, and many Scandinavian countries, consistently rank higher in overall health outcomes compared to the U.S.
For instance, Canada’s single-payer system ensures that all citizens have access to healthcare, regardless of their income. This system reduces the financial burdens that often lead to delays in care or avoidance of treatment due to costs. According to the World Health Organization, Canada has better health outcomes on a variety of metrics, including life expectancy and infant mortality, compared to the U.S., where medical costs often lead to unequal access to care.
Similarly, the United Kingdom’s National Health Service (NHS) provides healthcare free at the point of use for all citizens. Despite challenges such as funding constraints and wait times, the NHS has been successful in ensuring that healthcare is a right, not a privilege. The U.K. consistently ranks higher than the U.S. in terms of access to care, health outcomes, and overall public health.
Nordic countries, such as Norway and Sweden, also exemplify how universal healthcare can lead to better outcomes. These countries invest heavily in public health and preventative care, ensuring that even their most marginalized citizens receive the necessary medical services. The result is a population with some of the highest life expectancies and lowest rates of chronic diseases in the world.
These nations show that, while access to healthcare is a critical issue in the U.S., the challenge is not a lack of innovation or capability. Instead, it is the systemic barriers—both racial and economic—that persist in elite medical centers, undermining the potential for universal health equity. The U.S. could learn from these nations by adopting policies that reduce economic inequality in healthcare access and focusing on preventative care and public health strategies that serve all people equally.
Ultimately, the dark legacy of elite university medical centers is not something that can be erased, but it is something that must be acknowledged. Only by confronting this painful history, alongside addressing class-based disparities, can we begin to build a more just and equitable healthcare system—one that serves everyone, regardless of race, background, or socio-economic status. Until this happens, the distrust and skepticism that many marginalized communities feel toward these institutions will continue to shape the landscape of American healthcare. The path forward requires a concerted effort to address both racial and class-based inequities that have defined these institutions for far too long. The U.S. can, and must, strive for healthcare outcomes akin to those seen in nations that have built systems prioritizing equity and fairness—systems that put human dignity over profit.
Friday, March 7, 2025
Political Attacks on Higher Education (AAUP)
The Trump administration and many state governments are accelerating attacks on academic freedom, shared governance, and higher education as a public good. We are working with our chapters and with allies in higher ed and the labor movement to defend and advance our vision: Higher education that is accessible and affordable for all who want it. Freedom to teach, to learn, to conduct research, to speak out on issues of the day, and to assemble in the organizations of our choice. Colleges and universities that create opportunity for students, workers, and communities. Sufficient funding to provide true education and sustainable working conditions. Information and resources to help in this fight are being added below as they are developed.
Immigration
- We need to know what is happening on your campus so we can legally and strategically respond. Please let us know what is going on by using this intake form.
- Fact sheet on dealing with ICE on your campus (AAUP General Counsel)
- Fact sheet on rights and risks for workers who are in the United States on visas (American Federation of Teachers)
- Issue brief on immigration-related campus concerns (American Council on Education)
- Know Your Rights flyers (AFL-CIO)
- Family preparedness plan template (Immigrant Legal Resource Center)
Attacks on Science and Research
- Support for Researchers Facing Coordinated Campaigns of Intimidation and Harassment (Researcher Support Consortium)
Federal Funding
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A Win for the AAUP, Higher Ed, and Our Communities
AAUP Seeks Restraining Order on Termination of Grants - Federal Funding Freeze Impact Survey (Higher Ed Labor United)
- Trump’s DEI order leaves academic researchers fearful of political influence over grants (Associated Press)
- Fact sheet on privatizing K-12 education (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
Accreditation
- Accreditation: What to Expect in 2025 (American Federation of Teachers)
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion
- A Win for the AAUP, Higher Ed, and Our Communities
- AAUP Seeks Restraining Order on Termination of Grants
- AAUP Joins Lawsuit to Block Trump’s Unlawful and Unconstitutional DEI Orders
- Fact sheet on diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
- Fact sheet on DEI in K-12 (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
- Fact sheet on antisemitism (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
- Fact sheet on weaponizing civil rights law (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
- Fact sheet on gender identity (AAUP Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom)
Anticipatory Obedience
Administrations sometimes go farther than the law requires to placate those who are attacking higher ed.
- Statement Against Anticipatory Obedience, with recommendations (AAUP)
Friday, February 28, 2025
Support the Mission of the University of Oregon (United Academics of the University of Oregon)
Tuition has increased faster than inflation. State funding has increased faster than inflation. Administrator salaries have increased faster than inflation. Yet, the administration is demanding that the teachers, librarians, and researchers who drive the university’s educational mission take real wage cuts.
While everyone acknowledges the financial challenges facing higher education, the UO is receiving more money per student than ever before. If this money isn’t going toward student education and knowledge creation, where is it going?
The Facts:
Quality Education Requires Investment in Faculty
The value of a University of Oregon degree depends on the quality of its professors, instructors, researchers, and librarians. When faculty wages erode due to artificial austerity, neglect, or slow attrition, it affects not only the quality of education and research, but also the long-term value of a UO degree for students and alumni alike.
- UO faculty salaries rank near the bottom among our peer institutions in the American Association of Universities (AAU).
- United Academics has proposed fair wage increases that would merely adjust salaries for inflation and restore them to pre-pandemic budget levels.
- Despite pandemic-related learning loss, the administration is spending less on education per student (adjusted for inflation) than before COVID-19.
- The administration has prioritized administrative growth over academic excellence, while faculty have taken on increased workloads since the pandemic.
Faculty Sacrificed to Protect UO—Now It’s Time for Fair Wages
During the pandemic, faculty agreed to potential pay reductions to help UO weather an uncertain financial future. We made sacrifices to ensure the university could continue to serve students. Now, as we bargain our first post-pandemic contract, the administration refuses to offer wage increases that:
- Cover inflation
- Acknowledge additional faculty labor since the pandemic
- Recognize our unwavering commitment to UO’s educational mission
Our Vision for UO: Excellence in Teaching & Research
The University of Oregon’s mission is clear:
“The University of Oregon is a comprehensive public research university committed to exceptional teaching, discovery, and service. We work at a human scale to generate big ideas. As a community of scholars, we help individuals question critically, think logically, reason effectively, communicate clearly, act creatively, and live ethically.”
Our vision for the University of Oregon is one where the educational and research mission are at the fore; an institution of higher learning where we attract and maintain the best researchers and instructors and provide a world class education for the citizens of Oregon and beyond. Yes, this will take a shift in economic priorities, but only back to those before the pandemic. Our demands are neither extravagant nor frivolous. Our demand is that the fiduciaries of the University of Oregon perform their primary fiduciary duty: support the mission of the University of Oregon.
Why This Matters Now
We are currently in state-mandated mediation, a final step before a potential faculty strike. Striking is a last resort—faculty do not want to disrupt student learning. However, the administration’s arguments for austerity do not align with the university’s financial situation or acknowledge the increased faculty labor and inflated economic reality since the pandemic. If the administration does not relent, we may have no choice but to strike.
We Need Your Support
A strong show of support from the UO community—students, parents, alumni, donors, legislators and citizens of Oregon and beyond—can help pressure the administration to do the right thing.
Wednesday, February 26, 2025
Elite University Presidents: Most Hated Men (and Women) on Campus
In prestigious universities across the country, the figurehead of the institution—the president—has become a symbol of frustration and resentment among students, faculty, and staff. These figures, often once revered as academic leaders, are increasingly viewed as little more than corporate CEOs, prioritizing the interests of wealthy trustees and donors over the very people who make the university what it is: the students and the dedicated faculty and staff who carry out its mission.
At the heart of the growing discontent is the trend of university presidents restricting freedom of speech and assembly, stifling student activism, and limiting open debate in the name of "campus safety" or "institutional stability." Instead of acting as advocates for open discourse, many university presidents have aligned themselves with powerful corporate interests, turning their backs on the very values that once defined higher education. The administration's agenda is often dictated by the whims of major donors, whose influence can shape everything from university policy to the hiring and firing of professors.
The University of Chicago, long a beacon of academic freedom, has seen its leadership take a hard turn in recent years, placing increasing restrictions on student demonstrations and dissent. Under the guise of maintaining "campus order," the administration has been known to deploy private security to break up protests and limit public forums for free speech.
Harvard University, with its enormous endowment and prestigious reputation, has become another example of an institution where the president seems more concerned with appeasing donors than listening to the students and faculty. The administration has been criticized for prioritizing relationships with donors over addressing the deepening student debt crisis and growing concerns about inequality in higher education. The university has faced a wave of student-led protests demanding action on climate change, affordable tuition, and the rights of adjunct faculty, all of which were largely ignored or dismissed by the top administration.
Harvard’s massive endowment—reportedly the largest of any university in the world—has been a focal point of controversy. While it continues to grow, many argue that the university could be doing far more to address the financial burdens of its students, particularly the mounting debt facing undergraduates. Instead, the administration has focused on expanding its brand and maintaining its status as an elite institution, often prioritizing donor preferences and legacy admissions over efforts to make education more accessible. Legacy admissions, in which children of alumni are given preferential treatment, have been a point of contention, with critics arguing that this practice entrenches privilege and reduces opportunities for marginalized students.
Even at places like Princeton University, long considered a champion of academic freedom, President Christopher Eisgruber has come under fire for clamping down on student speech and assembly. While Princeton’s administration claims to support free expression, it has quietly enacted policies to restrict protestors’ access to the administration building, citing concerns about “disruption” and “disorder.” Eisgruber, who has connections to powerful alumni, has been accused of using his position to protect the interests of wealthy donors while ignoring the voices of those who are most directly affected by the university's policies.
The University of Southern California (USC) is another prime example of a university where the president’s priorities have come under increasing scrutiny from students, faculty, and staff. Under President Carol Folt, USC has become emblematic of a trend where the administration appears more aligned with wealthy donors and corporate interests than with the needs of its campus community.
Folt, who took over as USC's president in 2019, was thrust into the spotlight during a period of significant unrest. The university had already been embroiled in scandals—including the high-profile college admissions bribery scandal—and was facing criticism for its handling of sexual assault allegations within its medical school. Rather than addressing these issues head-on, many argue that Folt’s administration focused instead on securing funding from high-profile donors and expanding the university’s brand, while sidelining the concerns of students and faculty.
This prioritization of external donors is evident in USC’s massive fundraising campaigns, which often overshadow initiatives aimed at addressing student debt, affordability, or academic freedom. USC's endowment has grown exponentially under Folt’s leadership, but student loan debt continues to be a crippling issue for many Trojans, and the concerns of adjunct faculty members remain largely ignored.
Furthermore, Folt’s administration has faced criticism for its efforts to suppress dissent on campus. For instance, student protests related to labor rights, housing issues, and calls for greater diversity on campus have been met with limited response or, at times, outright hostility. In 2022, when USC students protested the administration's handling of campus housing shortages, they were met with heightened security measures and a lack of genuine engagement from university leadership. These actions—along with Folt’s ties to the private sector, particularly her background in environmental policy and corporate leadership—have fueled perceptions that USC’s administration is more interested in protecting its brand than in creating an inclusive, participatory academic environment.
USC also exemplifies the growing disconnect between students, faculty, and administration when it comes to issues of free speech and assembly. Protests have become less frequent, as many students feel their voices will not be heard, and faculty members, particularly those in non-tenure track positions, are often too fearful of retribution to publicly criticize the administration.
The discontent with university leadership is not confined to the campus. In recent years, presidents from some of the nation's most elite institutions, including Harvard, the University of Pennsylvania, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, have faced intense scrutiny and backlash during hearings in the U.S. House of Representatives. These public hearings, aimed at addressing the growing issues of student debt, university funding, and the influence of wealthy donors on campus, have highlighted the widening disconnect between top university administrations and the communities they are supposed to serve.
During a House hearing in 2022, Lawrence Bacow of Harvard, along with MIT's President L. Rafael Reif and Penn's President Amy Gutmann, faced tough questioning from lawmakers who were deeply critical of how these institutions have handled student debt, tuition costs, and their ties to corporate interests. Bacow, in particular, faced pointed questions about Harvard's massive endowment and the university's refusal to use its resources to address skyrocketing tuition and student loan debt. Both Reif and Gutmann were grilled on how their institutions have prioritized securing donations from wealthy alumni and corporate entities over the well-being of students and faculty. The hearing exposed a troubling pattern where the presidents of these prestigious institutions seemed more concerned with maintaining their institutions' financial health than with addressing the needs of their campus communities.
Legacy admissions, a practice entrenched at many of these elite schools, also came under fire during the hearings. Critics argued that such policies perpetuate inequality, giving children of alumni—many of whom come from wealthy backgrounds—unfair advantages in the admissions process. This has contributed to the growing perception that these universities, while claiming to offer merit-based opportunities, are fundamentally shaped by privilege and corporate interests.
These public confrontations highlighted the growing frustration with university presidents who are seen as out of touch with the everyday realities facing students and faculty, as well as the increasing influence of money and corporate interests in higher education. The presidents of these universities, once seen as respected leaders, have become targets of anger and resentment, with many on Capitol Hill and on campus calling for a shift in how these institutions are governed.
These are just a few examples of elite universities where the power structure has shifted toward those who have the financial means to dictate the terms of the campus experience. As tuition costs rise and student loan debt becomes a crushing burden for many, university presidents seem more determined than ever to serve the interests of trustees and donors, rather than advocating for the people who should be their true constituents: the students, faculty, and staff who make up the heart of the academic community.
The impact of this shift has been profound. On campuses across the country, students are increasingly feeling that their voices don’t matter. Faculty members, once seen as the intellectual core of the institution, are being sidelined in favor of administrators who prioritize financial concerns over academic integrity. And staff members—many of whom are underpaid and overworked—are being pushed to the margins as well.
But it’s not just students who are feeling the heat. Faculty and staff have found their own platforms for protest increasingly under attack. At places like Yale University, where former President Peter Salovey faced criticism for neglecting the needs of faculty and for his lukewarm responses to issues like labor rights and the treatment of graduate workers, professors staged walkouts and organized petitions to voice their discontent with the administration's disregard for their well-being.
In this new era, university presidents are no longer the beloved leaders of intellectual discourse—they are the gatekeepers of corporate power, more concerned with securing funding from wealthy donors than with fostering an inclusive, open, and critical academic environment. The fallout from this shift is only growing, as campuses become hotbeds of dissent, with students, faculty, and staff increasingly questioning the direction of higher education and the people at the helm.
As the divide between administration and the campus community continues to widen, one thing is clear: the once-admired university president is now among the most hated figures on campus, seen not as a champion of academic values, but as an enforcer of an increasingly political and profit-driven agenda.
Tuesday, February 25, 2025
U.S. Law Schools: Perpetuating Inequality and Injustice, Serving the Billionaire Class
As the nation grapples with profound social and economic inequities, U.S. law schools have become a critical yet overlooked institution in perpetuating these disparities. From shaping the legal minds that go on to influence policy to training future attorneys who occupy the nation's corridors of power, law schools are playing an outsized role in entrenching systems of privilege, rather than dismantling them.
One of the most glaring manifestations of this failure is the Trump-era Supreme Court, whose composition has shifted dramatically due to the influence of elite law schools. Justices such as Brett Kavanaugh (Yale Law), Neil Gorsuch (Harvard Law), and Amy Coney Barrett (Notre Dame Law) have reshaped the Court in the image of conservative ideologies. These justices, primarily from elite institutions, have consistently sided with corporate interests over public welfare. Their rulings on critical issues like voting rights (Shelby County v. Holder, 2013), abortion access (Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization, 2022), and corporate regulation (South Dakota v. Wayfair, Inc., 2018) have had profound consequences, amplifying inequalities and reducing access to justice for marginalized communities. The legal minds trained in these prestigious law schools have moved away from serving the public, instead reinforcing the status quo and further consolidating power in the hands of the wealthy elite.
This trend is compounded by the overwhelming concentration of law school graduates in a handful of sectors, particularly Washington, D.C., and on Wall Street. A report from the National Association for Law Placement (NALP) reveals that nearly 70% of graduates from top law schools—such as Harvard, Yale, and Columbia—secure positions in large corporate law firms or government roles. Meanwhile, those who enter public service or work in underfunded legal fields such as public defense face a starkly different reality. According to the American Bar Association (ABA), the average starting salary for a public defender in 2020 was around $50,000, compared to $190,000 in major corporate law firms. This disparity highlights the economic realities facing graduates who pursue careers in public interest law.
Law schools exacerbate these inequities through their admissions processes, which heavily favor students from affluent backgrounds. A 2019 study by the Equality of Opportunity Project found that 70% of students attending Harvard Law, Yale Law, and other Ivy League law schools come from families in the top 20% income bracket, while less than 5% come from the bottom 20%. This financial divide is perpetuated by high tuition costs—Harvard Law's tuition and fees for the 2024 academic year exceed $70,000 annually—making it inaccessible to many who might otherwise have the talent and potential to succeed in law.
Furthermore, law schools’ connections with corporate sponsors and wealthy alumni networks often shape the curriculum and career pathways offered to students. As a result, legal education has become increasingly oriented toward corporate law, perpetuating a system that values prestige and financial gain over social justice. A 2021 report from the American Bar Foundation indicated that nearly half of law school graduates work in the private sector within the first ten years of their careers, most of them in high-paying corporate firms or lobbying groups, which further concentrates legal power in the hands of the elite.
The oversupply of lawyers entering corporate sectors—many of whom attend the nation’s top law schools—has created a system where elite law firms and government agencies, such as the U.S. Department of Justice and major regulatory bodies, dominate legal decision-making. This trend is also visible in the disproportionate representation of law school graduates in Washington, D.C., where they shape policy in ways that benefit large corporations and financial institutions, while leaving the needs of the general public unmet.
A central aspect of the legal system that perpetuates inequality is the way the billionaire class profits from the injustice system itself. Wealthy individuals and corporate entities have found ways to exploit the legal system to their advantage, contributing to the concentration of wealth and power. Many billionaires and large corporations fund legal battles designed to weaken regulations, block labor rights, and influence policy decisions that benefit their financial interests.
For example, major private prison companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group, both of which have ties to influential law firms, profit from the mass incarceration of predominantly Black and Latino individuals. These private companies lobby for harsher sentencing laws and immigration policies that fill their prisons, creating a cycle of profit that thrives on systemic inequality. Legal professionals trained in elite law schools frequently represent these corporations, further entrenching the power dynamics that keep vulnerable populations incarcerated.
The billionaire class also reaps the benefits of legal loopholes and tax avoidance schemes facilitated by top-tier law firms. Lawyers trained in Ivy League schools often advise wealthy clients on ways to hide their assets, evade taxes, and exploit the legal system for personal gain, which further exacerbates income inequality. Law firms and the lawyers who work in them profit immensely by providing these services, while the broader public bears the burden of underfunded social programs and public services.
The impact of law schools’ role in the legal system is not a new development, but has historical roots. For much of U.S. history, the courts and legal institutions have played a pivotal role in limiting democracy and reinforcing inequalities. However, there have been pivotal moments when the courts, often driven by lawyers trained in the nation's top schools, expanded democracy and fought for justice.
A key moment in the history of expanding democracy was the work of Thurgood Marshall and Charles Hamilton Houston, both of whom were products of Howard University School of Law—a historically Black institution that stood in stark contrast to the elite, mostly white law schools of their time. Marshall, who went on to become the first African American Supreme Court Justice, and Houston, his mentor, fought tirelessly against segregation and racial discrimination. Houston's strategy, dubbed "the 'liberal' approach to civil rights," involved challenging discriminatory laws through the courts, using legal arguments rooted in equal protection and the promise of the 14th Amendment.
Houston's legal battles laid the groundwork for the landmark Brown v. Board of Education (1954) case, where the Supreme Court, under the influence of Marshall's legal strategies, overturned the doctrine of “separate but equal” and declared racial segregation in public schools unconstitutional. This ruling, perhaps one of the most profound examples of the courts expanding democracy, was achieved through the work of legal professionals committed to social justice, many of whom came from institutions outside the mainstream elite law schools.
Unfortunately, the trend of the courts advancing civil rights was not consistent. The Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857) decision, where the Supreme Court ruled that African Americans could not be citizens, and Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), which upheld racial segregation, serve as stark reminders of how the legal system can be wielded to entrench inequality and limit democracy. The very law schools that trained many of the justices responsible for these rulings were also responsible for shaping the legal education that upheld the racist and exclusionary structures of the time.
Today, the cycle of legal education serving the interests of the wealthy and powerful continues. While the courts have sometimes played a role in broadening civil rights and democracy, too often they have sided with corporate interests, limiting progress. Lawyers trained in elite law schools continue to occupy spaces where the rules of the game are rigged in favor of those with wealth and influence.
To reverse this trend, law schools must take deliberate action. They must shift their focus from training lawyers for the highest-paying and most prestigious jobs to producing attorneys who are dedicated to the public good. This includes increasing financial accessibility, offering more scholarships for low-income students, and reevaluating the curriculum to emphasize social justice, public interest law, and equitable legal reforms. Moreover, legal education should challenge the structures of wealth and power, ensuring that future lawyers are equipped to dismantle the systems that benefit billionaires and corporations at the expense of justice.
The influence of law schools in perpetuating inequality cannot be overstated. The future of the legal profession—and, by extension, the justice system—depends on whether these institutions can embrace a new mission: one that fosters true equality under the law and dismantles the structures of privilege that continue to shape our society.