In the last decade, Charlie Kirk and Milo Yiannopoulos emerged as two of the most controversial figures on U.S. campuses. Though different in demeanor, both tapped into a potent formula: using universities as battlegrounds in the culture wars, staging spectacles that blurred the line between political activism, media provocation, and profit.
Yiannopoulos, a former Breitbart editor, built his American notoriety through his 2016–2017 campus speaking tour. His brand was openly flamboyant, camp, and cruel—delighting his fans with ridicule of feminists, Muslims, and LGBTQ activists while enraging opponents. The height of his career came at the University of California, Berkeley, in February 2017, when protests against his scheduled speech escalated into property damage, a police crackdown, and national media coverage. Berkeley—the symbolic birthplace of the 1960s Free Speech Movement—was suddenly cast as the stage for a right-wing provocation about free expression.
But the fallout from Yiannopoulos’s personal life quickly undercut his momentum. Video surfaced of him appearing to condone sexual relationships between older men and boys, remarks he later attempted to reframe as jokes or personal history. The scandal cost him a book deal with Simon & Schuster, led to his resignation from Breitbart, and triggered a cascade of canceled appearances. His sexual provocations, once a source of his appeal, became his undoing in mainstream conservative circles.
Charlie Kirk, meanwhile, chose a steadier path. With Turning Point USA, founded in 2012, he avoided Yiannopoulos’s sexual flamboyance and leaned instead on organization-building, donor cultivation, and a veneer of respectability. TPUSA planted chapters across hundreds of campuses, launched the Professor Watchlist, and turned campus protests into proof of “leftist intolerance.” If Yiannopoulos was the shock jock of campus conservatism, Kirk became its institution-builder.
Yet the connection between them remains. Both recognized the utility of outrage—that protests and cancellations could be reframed as censorship, and that universities could be cast as ideological enemies. Berkeley provided the prototype: a riot in defense of inclusivity was spun into evidence of liberal suppression, fueling conservative mobilization and fundraising.
Neither Yiannopoulos nor Kirk could have sustained their visibility without deep-pocketed benefactors and ideological patrons.
Yiannopoulos’s rise was closely tied to the Mercer family, the billionaire backers of Breitbart News who also helped fund Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign. Their patronage gave him a platform at Breitbart and the resources to stage his “Dangerous Faggot Tour.” When the pedophilia scandal erupted, the Mercers swiftly cut ties, leaving him adrift without institutional protection.
Kirk’s Turning Point USA followed a different trajectory, courting a wide network of wealthy conservative donors. According to IRS filings and investigative reports, TPUSA has received millions from the Koch network, Illinois Republican governor Bruce Rauner’s family, and donors linked to the DeVos family. By 2020, TPUSA’s budget topped $30 million annually, making it a financial juggernaut in the campus culture wars. The group’s lavish conferences, slick marketing, and constant media presence depended heavily on this donor pipeline.
These financial networks reveal that both Kirk and Yiannopoulos were never simply “grassroots” activists. They were, in fact, products of elite funding streams, crafted and sustained by billionaire patrons seeking cultural leverage. For universities, that means student protests were never just about clashing ideologies—they were also responses to well-financed operations designed to destabilize higher education as an institution and mobilize a generation of voters.
Kirk’s later alignment with Christian nationalism and the MAGA movement extended his influence far beyond campus politics. His assassination in September 2025 has already created a martyrdom narrative for the right, just as Yiannopoulos’s clashes at Berkeley created symbolic victories, even as his personal scandals consumed him.
For higher education, the legacies of Kirk and Yiannopoulos are instructive. Universities remain prime targets for political entrepreneurs who thrive on outrage, whether their methods are flamboyant and sexualized or organizational and ideological. The question for higher education is not whether these figures will return—others surely will—but whether institutions can resist being drawn, again and again, into spectacles that erode the very idea of the university as a space for learning and dialogue.
Wikipedia contributors. “Charlie Kirk.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Kirk
Wikipedia contributors. “Milo Yiannopoulos.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milo_Yiannopoulos
Reuters. “What to know about the case against Tyler Robinson, accused of killing Charlie Kirk.” September 16, 2025. Link
The Guardian. “Milo Yiannopoulos: the shallow actor with a bad guy act.” February 21, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/feb/21/milo-yiannopoulos-rise-and-fall-shallow-actor-bad-guy-hate-speech
CNN. “Milo Yiannopoulos resigns from Breitbart after comments on pedophilia.” February 21, 2017. https://www.cnn.com/2017/02/21/politics/milo-yiannopoulos-resigns-breitbart
NPR. “Violent Protests Shut Down Milo Yiannopoulos Event At UC Berkeley.” February 2, 2017. https://www.npr.org/2017/02/02/512956833/violent-protests-shut-down-milo-yiannopoulos-event-at-uc-berkeley
OpenSecrets. “Turning Point USA.” https://www.opensecrets.org/orgs/turning-point-usa/summary?id=D000064422
New York Times. “The Mercers and the Rise of the Alt-Right.” March 2017. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/04/us/politics/mercers.html
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:
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
The Higher Education Inquirer has crossed another milestone, reaching more than 600,000 views over the past quarter. For a niche publication without corporate backing, this is a significant achievement. But the real measure of success is not in page views—it is in the stories that matter, the investigations that refuse to die even when the higher education establishment would rather they disappear.
Since its inception, HEI has taken the long view on the crises and contradictions shaping U.S. colleges and universities. We continue to probe the issues that mainstream media outlets often skim or ignore. These are not passing headlines; they are structural problems, many of them decades in the making, that affect millions of students, faculty, staff, and communities.
Among the stories we continue to pursue:
Charlie Kirk and Neofascism on Campus: Tracing how right-wing movements use higher education as a recruiting ground, and how student martyrdom narratives fuel a dangerous cycle.
Academic Labor and Adjunctification: Investigating the systemic exploitation of contingent faculty, who now make up the majority of the academic workforce.
Higher Education and Underemployment: Examining how rising tuition, debt, and credentials collide with a labor market that cannot absorb the graduates it produces.
EdTech, Robocolleges, and the University of Phoenix: Following the money as education technology corporations replace faculty with algorithms and marketing schemes.
Student Loan Debt and Borrower Defense to Repayment: Tracking litigation, regulatory shifts, and the human toll of a $1.7 trillion debt system.
U.S. Department of Education Oversight: Analyzing how federal enforcement waxes and wanes with political cycles, often leaving students exposed.
Online Program Managers and Higher Ed Privatization: Investigating the outsourcing of core academic functions to companies driven by profit, not pedagogy.
Edugrift and Bad Actors in Higher Education: Naming the profiteers who siphon billions from public trust.
Medugrift and University Medicine Oligopolies: Connecting elite medical centers to systemic inequality in U.S. healthcare.
Student Protests: Documenting student resistance to injustice on campus and beyond.
University Endowments and Opaque Funding Sources: Pulling back the curtain on how universities build wealth while raising tuition.
Universities and Gentrification: Exposing the displacement of working-class communities in the name of “campus expansion.”
Ambow Education as a Potential National Security Threat: Tracking foreign-controlled for-profit education companies and their entanglements.
Accreditation: Examining the gatekeepers of legitimacy and their failure to protect students.
International Students: Covering the precarity of students navigating U.S. immigration and education systems.
Student Health and Welfare: Looking at how universities fail to provide adequate physical and mental health support.
Hypercredentialism: Interrogating the endless inflation of degrees and certificates that drain students’ time and money.
Veritas: Pursuing truth in higher education, no matter how uncomfortable.
These are the stories that make HEI more than just a blog—they make it a watchdog. As higher education drifts deeper into corporatization and inequality, we will keep asking difficult questions, exposing contradictions, and documenting resistance.
The numbers are gratifying. But the truth is what matters.
University of California (UC) President James Milliken has sounded an alarm over what he calls one of the “gravest threats” in the institution’s 157-year history. In testimony before state lawmakers, Milliken outlined a looming financial crisis sparked by sweeping federal funding cuts and unprecedented political demands from the Trump administration.
The UC system — spanning 10 campuses, five medical centers, and serving hundreds of thousands of students and patients — receives more than $17 billion in federal funds annually. That includes $9.9 billion in Medicare and Medicaid reimbursements, $5.7 billion in research dollars, and $1.9 billion in student financial aid. According to Milliken, much of this funding is now at risk.
Already, UCLA alone has seen more than $500 million in research grants cut. On top of that, the administration has levied a $1.2 billion penalty against the system, alleging that UCLA and other campuses failed to adequately address antisemitism.
“These shortfalls, combined with the administration’s punitive demands, could devastate our university and cause enormous harm to our students, our patients, and all Californians,” Milliken warned. He has requested at least $4 to $5 billion annually in state aid to blunt the impact of federal cuts.
The Trump administration has tied federal funding to sweeping political conditions, including:
Release of detailed admissions data.
Restrictions on protests.
Elimination of race-related scholarships and diversity hiring.
A ban on gender-affirming care for minors at UCLA health centers.
Critics argue that these conditions amount to political blackmail, undermining both academic freedom and healthcare access.
California Governor Gavin Newsom denounced the federal measures as “extortion” and “a page out of the authoritarian playbook.” Thirty-three state legislators urged UC leaders “not to back down in the face of this political shakedown.”
Yet while UC leaders frame themselves as defenders of free inquiry, many students and faculty who have protested war, racism, and inequality have found themselves silenced by the very system that now claims victimhood.
2011 UC Davis Occupy Protest: Images of police casually pepper-spraying seated students went viral, symbolizing the university’s harsh response to peaceful dissent.
2019 UC Santa Cruz Graduate Worker Strike: Graduate students demanding a cost-of-living adjustment were fired, evicted, or disciplined rather than heard.
2022 UC Irvine Labor Strikes: Workers organizing for fair pay and job security faced heavy-handed tactics from administrators.
2023–24 Gaza Encampments: UC campuses, including UCLA and UC Berkeley, called in police to dismantle student encampments protesting U.S. and UC complicity in Israel’s war in Gaza. Dozens of students were arrested, suspended, or disciplined for their participation.
These incidents show a pattern: UC celebrates academic freedom in official statements, but clamps down when protests threaten its ties to corporate donors, political interests, or foreign governments.
As one Berkeley student put it during the Gaza protests: “The university claims it’s under attack from Trump’s censorship — but it censors us every single day.”
Beyond silencing dissent, UC has been unresponsive to many Californians on broader issues: rising tuition, limited in-state enrollment, reliance on low-paid adjuncts, and partnerships with corporations that profit from student debt and labor precarity. For many working families, UC feels less like a public institution and more like an elite research enterprise serving industry and politics.
This contradiction makes the current crisis double-edged. UC is indeed being targeted by the Trump administration, but it also faces a legitimacy crisis at home.
Milliken, who took office as UC President on August 1, is lobbying state lawmakers to commit billions annually to offset federal cuts. But UC’s survival may hinge not only on political deals in Sacramento, but also on whether it can rebuild trust with the Californians it has too often sidelined — including the protesters and whistleblowers who have been warning for years about its drift away from public accountability.
The larger struggle, then, is not just UC versus Washington. It is about whether a public university system can still live up to its mission of serving the people — not corporations, not politicians, and not the wealthy few who hold the purse strings.
Sources:
University of California Office of the President
California State Legislature records
Statements from Gov. Gavin Newsom
U.S. Department of Justice communications
Higher Education Inquirer archives on UC protest suppression and public accountability
Coverage of UC Davis pepper-spray incident (2011), UC Santa Cruz COLA strike (2019), UC Irvine labor strikes (2022), Gaza encampment crackdowns (2023–24)
The Trump administration, since returning to power in 2025, has escalated attacks on the foundations of democracy, the environment, world peace, human rights, and intellectual inquiry. While the administration has marketed itself as “America First,” its policies have more often meant profits for the ultra-wealthy, repression for the working majority, and escalating dangers for the planet.
Below is a running list of 100 of the most dangerous actions and policies—a record of how quickly a government can dismantle hard-won protections for people, peace, and the planet.
Withdrawing from the Paris Climate Agreement—again.
Dismantling the EPA’s authority to regulate greenhouse gases.
Opening federal lands and national parks to oil, gas, and mining leases.
Gutting protections for endangered species.
Allowing coal companies to dump mining waste in rivers and streams.
Rolling back vehicle fuel efficiency standards.
Subsidizing fossil fuel companies while defunding renewable energy programs.
Suppressing climate science at federal agencies.
Greenlighting pipelines that threaten Indigenous lands and water supplies.
Promoting offshore drilling in fragile ecosystems.
Weakening Clean Water Act enforcement.
Dismantling environmental justice programs that protect poor communities.
Politicizing NOAA and censoring weather/climate warnings.
Undermining international climate cooperation at the UN.
Allowing pesticides banned in Europe to return to U.S. farms.
Threatening military action against Iran, Venezuela, and North Korea.
Expanding the nuclear arsenal instead of pursuing arms control.
Cutting funding for diplomacy and the State Department.
Withdrawing from the World Health Organization (WHO).
Weakening NATO alliances with inflammatory rhetoric.
Escalating drone strikes and loosening rules of engagement.
Providing cover for authoritarian leaders worldwide.
Walking away from peace negotiations in the Middle East.
Blocking humanitarian aid to Gaza, Yemen, and other war-torn areas.
Expanding weapons sales to Saudi Arabia despite human rights abuses.
Using tariffs and sanctions as blunt instruments against allies.
Politicizing intelligence briefings to justify military adventurism.
Abandoning refugee protections and asylum agreements.
Treating climate refugees as security threats.
Reducing U.S. participation in the United Nations.
Expanding family separation policies at the border.
Targeting asylum seekers for indefinite detention.
Militarizing immigration enforcement with National Guard troops.
Attacking reproductive rights and defunding women’s health programs.
Rolling back LGBTQ+ protections in schools and workplaces.
Reinstating bans on transgender service members in the military.
Undermining voting rights through purges and voter ID laws.
Packing the courts with extremist judges hostile to civil rights.
Weaponizing the Justice Department against political opponents.
Expanding surveillance powers with little oversight.
Encouraging police crackdowns on protests.
Expanding use of federal troops in U.S. cities.
Weakening consent decrees against abusive police departments.
Refusing to investigate hate crimes tied to far-right violence.
Deporting long-term immigrants with no criminal record.
Encouraging militias and extremist groups with dog whistles.
Using inflammatory rhetoric that stokes racial and religious hatred.
Equating journalists with “enemies of the people.”
Cutting funds for community-based violence prevention.
Politicizing natural disaster relief.
Treating peaceful protests as national security threats.
Expanding federal use of facial recognition surveillance.
Undermining local control with federal overreach.
Stigmatizing entire religious and ethnic groups.
Promoting conspiracy theories from the presidential podium.
Encouraging violent crackdowns on labor strikes.
Undermining pandemic preparedness and response.
Allowing corporations to sidestep workplace safety rules.
Shutting down diversity and inclusion training across agencies.
Promoting vigilante violence through online platforms.
Weakening the Department of Labor’s enforcement of wage theft.
Blocking attempts to raise the federal minimum wage.
Undermining collective bargaining rights for federal workers.
Supporting right-to-work laws across states.
Allowing employers to misclassify gig workers as “independent contractors.”
Blocking new OSHA safety standards.
Expanding exemptions for overtime pay.
Weakening rules on child labor in agriculture.
Cutting unemployment benefits during economic downturns.
Favoring union-busting corporations in federal contracts.
Rolling back protections for striking workers.
Encouraging outsourcing of jobs overseas.
Weakening enforcement of anti-discrimination laws in workplaces.
Cutting funding for worker retraining programs.
Promoting unpaid internships as a “pathway” to jobs.
Defunding the Department of Education in favor of privatization.
Attacking public universities as “woke indoctrination centers.”
Promoting for-profit colleges with predatory practices.
Restricting student loan forgiveness programs.
Undermining Title IX protections for sexual harassment.
Defunding libraries and public broadcasting.
Politicizing scientific research grants.
Firing federal scientists who contradict administration narratives.
Suppressing research on gun violence.
Censoring federal climate and environmental data.
Promoting creationism and Christian nationalism in schools.
Expanding surveillance of student activists.
Encouraging book bans in schools and libraries.
Undermining accreditation standards for higher education.
Attacking historians who challenge nationalist myths.
Cutting humanities funding in favor of military research.
Encouraging political litmus tests for professors.
Treating journalists as combatants in a “culture war.”
Promoting AI-driven “robocolleges” with no faculty oversight.
Gutting federal student aid programs.
Allowing corporate donors to dictate university policy.
Discouraging international students from studying in the U.S.
Criminalizing whistleblowers who reveal government misconduct.
Promoting conspiracy theories over peer-reviewed science.
Normalizing ignorance as a political strategy.
The Fall 2025 semester begins under intensifying pressure in U.S. higher education. Institutions are responding to long-term changes in enrollment, public funding, demographics, technology, and labor markets. The result is a gradual disassembly of parts of the postsecondary system, with ongoing layoffs, program cuts, and institutional restructuring across both public and private sectors.
Unsustainable Student Loan Debt and Federal Funding
A recent report from the American Enterprise Institute (AEI) highlights the depth of the crisis: more than 1,000 colleges could lose access to federal student aid based on current student loan repayment rates—if existing rules were fully enforced. The findings expose systemic failures in accountability and student outcomes. Many of these colleges enroll high numbers of low-income students but leave them with unsustainable debt and limited job prospects.
Institutional Cuts and Layoffs Across the Country
Job losses and cost reductions are increasing across a range of universities.
Stanford University is cutting staff due to a projected $200 million budget shortfall.
University of Oregon has announced budget reductions and academic restructuring.
Michigan State University is implementing layoffs and reorganizing departments.
Vanderbilt University Medical Center is eliminating positions to manage healthcare operating costs.
Harvard Kennedy School is reducing programs and offering early retirement.
Brown University is freezing hiring and reviewing academic offerings.
Penn State University System is closing three Commonwealth Campuses.
Indiana public colleges are merging administrative functions and reviewing low-enrollment programs.
These actions affect not only employees and students but also local communities and regional labor markets.
Enrollment Decline and Demographic Change
Undergraduate enrollment has fallen 14.6% since Fall 2019, according to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center. Community colleges have experienced the largest losses, with some regions seeing more than 20% declines.
The “demographic cliff” tied to declining birth rates is now reflected in enrollment trends. The Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE) projects a 15% decline in high school graduates between 2025 and 2037 in parts of the Midwest and Northeast.
Aging Population and Shifts in Public Spending
The U.S. population is aging. By 2030, all baby boomers will be over 65. The number of Americans aged 80 and older is expected to rise from 13 million in 2020 to nearly 20 million by 2035. Public resources are being redirected toward Social Security, Medicare, and elder care, placing higher education in direct competition for limited federal and state funds.
State-Level Cuts to Higher Education Budgets
According to the State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), 28 states saw a decline in inflation-adjusted funding per student in FY2024.
The California State University system faces a $400 million structural deficit.
West Virginia has reduced academic programs in favor of workforce-focused realignment.
Indiana has ordered cost-cutting measures across public campuses.
These reductions are leading to fewer courses, increased workloads, and, in some cases, higher tuition.
Closures and Mergers Continue
Since 2020, more than 100 campuses have closed or merged, based on Education Dive and HEI data. In 2025, Penn State began closing three Commonwealth Campuses. A number of small private colleges—especially those with enrollments under 1,000 and limited endowments—are seeking mergers or shutting down entirely.
International Enrollment Faces Obstacles
The Institute of International Education (IIE) reports a 12% decline in new international student enrollment in Fall 2024. Contributing factors include visa delays and tighter immigration rules. Students from India, Nigeria, and Iran have experienced longer wait times and increased rejection rates. Graduate programs in STEM and business are particularly affected.
Increased Surveillance and Restrictions on Campus Speech
Data from FIRE and the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) show increased use of surveillance tools on campuses since 2023. At least 15 public universities now use facial recognition, social media monitoring, or geofencing. State laws in Florida, Texas, and Georgia have introduced new restrictions on protests and diversity programs.
Automated Education Expands
Online Program Managers (OPMs) such as 2U, Kaplan, and Coursera are running over 500 online degree programs at more than 200 institutions, enrolling more than 1.5 million students. These programs often rely on AI-generated content and automated grading systems, with minimal instructor interaction.
Research from the Century Foundation shows that undergraduate programs operated by OPMs have completion rates below 35%, while charging tuition comparable to in-person degrees. Regulatory efforts to improve transparency and accountability remain stalled.
Oversight Gaps Remain
Accrediting agencies continue to approve closures, mergers, and new credential programs with limited transparency. Institutions are increasingly expanding short-term credential offerings and corporate partnerships with minimal external review.
Cost Shifts to Students, Faculty, and Communities
The ongoing restructuring of higher education is shifting costs and risks onto students, employees, and communities. Students face rising tuition, fewer available courses, and increased reliance on loans. Faculty and staff encounter job insecurity and heavier workloads. Outside the ivory tower, communities will lose access to educational services, cultural events, and local employment opportunities tied to campuses.
The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to report on the structural changes in U.S. higher education—grounded in data, public records, and the lived experiences of those directly affected.
Sources:
National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE), U.S. Census Bureau, State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), Institute of International Education (IIE), Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), Government Accountability Office (GAO), The Century Foundation, Stanford University, University of Oregon, Penn State University System, Harvard Kennedy School, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Education Dive Higher Ed Closures Tracker, American Enterprise Institute (AEI).
Academic institutions have long served as crucibles of free thought and protest. Yet under President Trump’s second term, universities have become battlegrounds in a sweeping campaign that conflates advocacy around the genocide in Gaza with antisemitism—and weaponizes Title VI and Title IX to stifle dissent. This article outlines the administration’s tactics, war crimes ramifications, and the universities ensnared so far.
The conflict in Gaza has seen mounting allegations of genocide against Israel—claims underscored by protests on dozens of U.S. campuses. In response, the Trump administration has launched a social media “catch-and-revoke” system that uses AI to flag pro-Palestinian speech, leading to visa revocations and deportations—even targeting legal residents and green-card holders. Over 1,000 visa revocations were reported by mid-April 2025, rising to nearly 2,000 by mid-May—many later overturned by courts.
Activists such as Mahmoud Khalil, a Columbia University legal resident arrested during a protest, and Mohsen Mahdawi, detained during a citizenship interview, have been caught up in these actions—both cases widely criticized for infringing First Amendment rights. These responses reflect a concerted effort to equate peaceful protest with national-security threats under the guise of combating antisemitism.
Under a January 29, 2025 Executive Order, Trump directed federal agencies to squash antisemitism—including speech critical of Israel—by enforcing Title VI of the Civil Rights Act against universities.
In March 2025, the Department of Education’s Office for Civil Rights sent letters to 60 universities, warning of enforcement investigations over alleged antisemitism during pro-Gaza protests. This has had an unmistakable chilling effect on faculty, students, and campus activism.
The administration’s pressure tactics have taken several forms.
Columbia University saw $400 million in federal grants and contracts canceled, tied to agencies including the Departments of Justice, Education, and Health and Human Services. The university received an ultimatum to change discipline policies, suspend or expel protestors, ban masks, empower security with arrest authority, and restructure certain academic departments by March 20—under threat of permanent funding loss. Columbia ultimately settled for $200 million and restored funding.
George Washington University was accused by the DOJ of being “deliberately indifferent” to antisemitic harassment during spring 2024 protests, especially affecting Jewish, American-Israeli, and Israeli students and faculty, and was given a deadline of August 22 to take corrective action.
UCLA recently had $584 million in federal funding suspended over similar antisemitism-related accusations and affirmative action concerns.
Harvard University is in settlement talks over nearly $500 million in frozen federal funding, negotiating compliance with federal guidelines in exchange for restoring money. Harvard also faces a separate Title VI/IX complaint over $49 million in DEI grants, with claims of race- and sex-based discrimination.
Other institutions under investigation include Johns Hopkins, NYU, Northwestern, UC Berkeley, University of Minnesota, and USC.
Universities and academic organizations have begun to push back.
The AAUP has filed suit against Trump’s executive orders on DEI, calling them vague, overreaching, and chilling to speech. Some institutions, including Harvard, have resisted enforcement efforts, defending academic freedom and constitutional rights—even as they weigh risks to federal funding.
Legal experts argue that Title VI enforcement in this context may be unconstitutional if motivated by ideological suppression rather than actual antisemitism.
Trump’s strategy effectively conjoins criticism of genocide and advocacy for Palestinian rights with civil rights violations—casting a chilling effect across campuses nationwide. The consequences are profound.
Academic autonomy is undermined when universities must trade institutional integrity for compliance with politically driven mandates. Student activism, especially from international and Palestinian voices, faces existential threats via visa policies and deportation tactics. Human rights accountability is sidelined when federal power is used to muzzle discourse about atrocities abroad.
Sources:
"No amount of evidence will ever convince an idiot."
The line isn’t from Mark Twain—even though it’d suit him. Twain never said it, and there’s no trace of it in his writings. But whoever coined it understood power all too well: facts alone are meaningless to those determined to ignore them. And in 2025, that truth is playing out in plain sight across American higher education.
The facts are everywhere—reports, audits, testimonies, and the lived experiences of students and educators. None of it matters to people who have decided not to care.
At Columbia University, a settlement with the Trump administration came with strings attached—strict oversight, curriculum controls, and banned diversity language—to restore frozen research funds.
UCLA found itself in the same position. Federal grants were suspended until administrators agreed to policy overhauls, including limitations on transgender student protections.
George Mason University is under investigation for alleged antisemitism, discriminatory hiring, and biased scholarships. The board responded by cutting many DEI programs despite protests from faculty and students.
At the federal level, the Trump administration is using its power to dismantle diversity programs and demand race-neutral admissions reporting. Hundreds of schools are under scrutiny, forced to comply with executive orders that critics say are tools of political coercion.
Meanwhile, Brown University and UPenn face antitrust investigations over suspected collusion in tuition pricing. The House Judiciary Committee is demanding records and threatening legislative action.
And elite institutions like Cornell, Yale, and Northwestern are pouring record sums into lobbying to defend their interests while the ground shifts under them.
The facts will never be enough for those committed to pretending. They will twist them, bury them, or dismiss them entirely. And when cornered, they will change the subject.
So the fight has to be more than proof. It has to be naming names and following the money. It has to be connecting the data to real lives—students losing hope, educators barely surviving, towns left hollow. It has to be relentless pressure from coalitions that cannot be ignored.
You cannot win an argument with someone whose position is built on denial. But you can make that denial costly. You can bring the harm into the light where it cannot be hidden. You can outlast the spin.
If evidence alone won’t move them, then the truth has to be carried in voices too loud to be silenced.
Sources:
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu stated this week that “there is no starvation in Palestine,” contradicting extensive reporting from international aid organizations documenting famine conditions and lethal attacks on civilians at food distribution sites in Gaza.
A May 2025 report by the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), a United Nations-supported initiative, found that over 70 percent of Gaza’s population was experiencing catastrophic food insecurity. Nearly 30 percent of children under the age of five were acutely malnourished. The World Food Programme has labeled the crisis a "man-made famine."
On July 20, Doctors Without Borders reported that a drone strike hit near its food and medical site in Khan Younis, killing nine civilians, including three children.
On July 24, the Palestinian Red Crescent Society reported that at least 15 civilians were killed when Israeli forces opened fire near an aid distribution point in Gaza City. The United Nations Relief and Works Agency (UNRWA) confirmed the death of one of its staff members in the incident.
Despite these conditions, Netanyahu has denied the existence of starvation, and the U.S. government has continued its military and diplomatic support. The United States provides approximately $3.8 billion annually in military aid to Israel, and U.S.-manufactured weapons have been linked to attacks on aid sites. The U.S. has also vetoed or blocked three United Nations Security Council resolutions since October 2023 aimed at enforcing ceasefires or expanding humanitarian access.
Meanwhile, suppression of speech and surveillance on U.S. campuses has escalated. Across dozens of universities, students and faculty who have spoken out against the war in Gaza or criticized U.S. and Israeli policies have faced disciplinary action, police monitoring, and digital surveillance. Peaceful protests and teach-ins have been met with administrative crackdowns, restrictions on student group activities, and, in some cases, expulsions.
At several campuses, private security firms with ties to law enforcement and intelligence agencies have been contracted to monitor student activism. Surveillance tools, including facial recognition and social media tracking software, have been used to identify and target protesters. In many cases, these efforts have been carried out with little or no oversight.
Faculty members who have criticized U.S. foreign policy or supported Palestinian rights have reported threats to job security and tenure, especially in public institutions receiving defense-related research funding. Some have been the targets of smear campaigns and blacklists promoted by outside organizations.
At least 24 U.S. universities maintain partnerships or research contracts with defense contractors such as Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, and General Dynamics—companies whose weapons systems are deployed in Gaza. This financial entanglement has made many administrations unwilling to permit open debate, let alone challenge the broader militarization of U.S. higher education.
These repressive measures raise fundamental questions about the role of the university in a democratic society. When criticism of state violence is policed, and protest against war is surveilled, the campus ceases to function as a space of inquiry and dissent. It becomes, instead, an extension of the national security state.
As civilians are killed while waiting for food and as children die of hunger and infection, the U.S. government and its educational institutions remain enmeshed in systems of silence, denial, and complicity. The suppression of free speech on campus is not peripheral to this crisis—it is part of it.
Sources:
UNRWA Situation Reports, July 2025
World Food Programme Emergency Updates
Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC), May 2025
Palestinian Red Crescent Society, July 2025
Médecins Sans Frontières Field Reports
World Health Organization, Gaza Emergency Briefings
UNICEF Gaza Nutrition Data, July 2025
U.S. State Department Foreign Military Financing Budget, 2024–2025
UN Security Council Voting Records, 2023–2025
Coalition for Civil Freedoms Campus Speech Tracker
Higher Education Inquirer archives on university-defense contractor ties
On July 22, 2025, The Chronicle of Higher Education distributed a mass email promoting an upcoming online event titled “The Path Ahead for Higher Ed”. The message, signed by Deputy Managing Editor Ian Wilhelm, framed the event as a vital opportunity for “higher ed’s business and nonprofit partners” to better understand the current challenges colleges face and how they might “help and provide value.”
While presented as a call for collaboration, the subtext of the message suggests a commercial logic that raises deeper questions about the Chronicle’s position in the higher education ecosystem. The email is not aimed at students, educators, or the broader public, but rather at vendors and consultants — those who stand to profit from institutional volatility.
Wilhelm identifies a list of familiar problems: demographic shifts, declining admissions, skepticism about the value of a degree, student protests, and political upheaval. These issues are real. According to data from the National Student Clearinghouse, total postsecondary enrollment in the U.S. has declined by more than 10 percent since 2012, with sharper drops among community colleges and for-profit institutions.
A recent ECMC Foundation survey (2024) shows that just 39 percent of teenagers believe education beyond high school is necessary — down from 60 percent in 2019. Public trust in higher education has also declined. A 2023 Gallup poll showed that only 36 percent of Americans had a “great deal” or “quite a lot” of confidence in colleges and universities, down from 57 percent in 2015.
What’s less clear is how a marketing webinar for outside vendors will meaningfully address these structural issues. The Chronicle’s event is positioned not as a public forum or investigative inquiry, but as a networking and insight session for firms involved in “technology, student services, consulting, design, or another function.” The framing shifts the conversation from public good to private opportunity.
For decades, The Chronicle of Higher Education has maintained a reputation as a leading source of news and analysis on academia. But it also functions as a platform for advertisers and vendors to access a lucrative market of institutional clients. In 2023, The Chronicle earned an estimated 65 percent of its revenue from advertising and sponsored content, according to industry data aggregated by MediaRadar.
This business model complicates its journalistic neutrality, especially when the publication hosts events that blur the line between reporting and consulting. The July email does not disclose whether the August 13 session is sponsored, or which companies may be involved. Nor does it acknowledge the Chronicle’s role in promoting firms that may contribute to the very instability being discussed — including online program managers (OPMs), edtech platforms, and private equity–backed service providers.
Absent from the message are the voices of students, contingent faculty, and debt-burdened alumni — those most impacted by the policies and market strategies shaping higher education. Nearly 70 percent of instructional staff in U.S. colleges are now non-tenure-track, often working without benefits or job security. Student loan debt remains at $1.7 trillion, with over 5 million borrowers in default as of early 2025, according to Federal Student Aid.
These constituencies are not addressed in the email. Instead, the implicit audience is those with the capital and infrastructure to offer “solutions” to the crisis — many of whom have historically benefited from that very crisis.
The Chronicle’s invitation reflects a common pattern in U.S. higher education: the packaging of systemic decline as a service opportunity. Whether the August 13 event delivers meaningful insight or simply reinforces the revolving door between higher education institutions and their vendors remains to be seen.
But the framing is clear. This is not a convening to discuss how to reduce tuition, reinvest in teaching, or restore public trust. It is a pitch to business partners on how to better position themselves in a distressed but still profitable sector.
Sources:
National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, “Current Term Enrollment Estimates,” Spring 2024
ECMC Foundation, “Question the Quo Survey,” 2024
Gallup, “Confidence in Institutions,” 2023
MediaRadar, “Education Media Ad Spend Trends,” 2023
U.S. Department of Education, Federal Student Aid Portfolio, Q1 2025
American Association of University Professors (AAUP), “Annual Report on the Economic Status of the Profession,” 2024
Student journalists often do the work of professional reporters: digging into campus finances, tracking misconduct, documenting protests. But many of these efforts never reach publication. Stories are pulled, reworded, or delayed—especially when they touch on administrators, donors, or internal disputes.
The Higher Education Inquirer is creating a space for this kind of reporting. We will publish student work rejected by campus editors, including pieces withheld out of fear or pressure. Submissions may be anonymous or credited, but all will be reviewed for accuracy and relevance.
This isn't about embarrassment—it’s about access. Students know their institutions from the inside. They see what official channels miss or avoid. By giving these stories a platform, we aim to bring useful information to light, help protect whistleblowers, and support independent inquiry.
We invite students to submit now. If your story was blocked, it still has a place to be heard.
