Madness on Campus: The Unseen Struggles of College Students

College campuses are often portrayed as vibrant places of learning, personal growth, and social exploration. For many, these years are full of excitement, new experiences, and the thrill of shaping one’s future. However, beneath the surface of campus life, a darker reality lurks—a reality that is rarely discussed but increasingly hard to ignore. The mental health struggles of college students have reached a crisis point, and the pressure to succeed academically, socially, and professionally is often pushing students to their breaking point. The “madness” on campus isn’t just about late-night study sessions or the intensity of competitive sports—it’s about the unseen battles many students are facing every day.

The Pressure Cooker of College Life

For today’s college students, the pressure to succeed is more intense than ever. In addition to excelling academically, students are expected to balance internships, extracurriculars, social lives, and the looming uncertainty of their futures. The fear of not measuring up, of failing to secure a job after graduation, or of not living up to parental expectations can be overwhelming. These pressures are compounded by financial burdens, the weight of student loans, and in many cases, the struggle to make ends meet while navigating the high cost of living.

While the modern college experience has evolved to include more support systems than in past generations, the demands placed on students have also grown exponentially. Many students find themselves caught in a cycle of stress and exhaustion, trying to juggle the high expectations placed upon them. Unfortunately, these expectations can be detrimental to their mental health, leading to feelings of inadequacy, anxiety, and depression.

The Silent Epidemic: Mental Health on Campus

According to recent surveys, mental health issues among college students have skyrocketed in the past decade. Anxiety, depression, and stress are at all-time highs, with more students reporting feeling overwhelmed and mentally exhausted. A 2023 study from the American College Health Association found that 60% of students felt “overwhelming” anxiety at some point during the previous year, and 40% reported feeling so depressed that it was difficult to function. Despite this, only a small percentage of students are receiving the mental health support they need.

The stigma surrounding mental health remains one of the biggest obstacles to seeking help. Students often feel they must appear “perfect” in order to meet academic and social expectations, and admitting to mental health struggles can feel like an admission of failure. As a result, many students suffer in silence, exacerbating their problems and making it harder to find a way out.

Campus resources, while they exist, are often overwhelmed. Counselors and therapists on many campuses are stretched thin, with waitlists sometimes extending for weeks. This leaves many students without the help they so desperately need. Additionally, the counseling services offered on many campuses are often seen as temporary fixes—band-aid solutions to much deeper, systemic issues that go unaddressed.

The Tragic Consequences of Ignored Struggles

The mental health crisis among college students is not just a matter of academic performance or emotional distress—it has life-and-death consequences. A growing number of tragic stories are emerging from campuses across the nation, with young people taking their own lives in response to their struggles. Suicide is now one of the leading causes of death among college-aged individuals, with an alarming number of students feeling they have no other option.

One heartbreaking example is Riley O’Neill, a talented swimmer at the University of Texas, whose death in 2020 shocked the college community. O’Neill, who had been struggling with depression and the overwhelming pressures of college life, took his own life after feeling isolated and unable to cope with his struggles. His death, like many others, brought attention to the unseen mental health crises occurring on campuses and underscored the urgent need for better mental health resources and support systems for students.

Stories like O’Neill’s are tragic reminders of the real, human toll of mental health struggles on campus. They should serve as a wake-up call for universities to reevaluate how they support their students and to prioritize mental health just as much as academic performance or career success.

Sexual Assault on Campus: An Overlooked Crisis

Another critical issue that often goes unaddressed is sexual assault on college campuses. According to the National Sexual Violence Resource Center (NSVRC), 1 in 5 women and 1 in 16 men experience sexual assault while in college. This staggering statistic highlights the reality that sexual violence is an endemic problem on many campuses across the country. Yet, many victims of assault feel isolated, shamed, or even responsible for the violence they’ve experienced. The trauma of sexual assault can have severe, long-lasting effects on mental health, including depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and suicidal thoughts.

Part of the reason sexual assault continues to be a pervasive issue on campuses is the culture of silence that surrounds it. Victims often feel afraid to come forward, either due to the fear of not being believed, the social stigma, or the complicated legal and institutional processes that often seem to favor the accused rather than the survivor. This fear can lead to underreporting, with many victims choosing to keep their trauma hidden. Additionally, some students may feel the pressure to remain silent due to concerns about their academic and social standing on campus.

It’s crucial that campuses provide safe, supportive environments for students who have experienced sexual assault. Universities must have clear policies and resources in place to support survivors—ranging from accessible counseling services to campus security that is trained to handle these cases with sensitivity and professionalism. Survivors of sexual violence deserve to feel heard, validated, and safe while navigating the aftermath of their experiences.

The Role of Alcohol and Drug Abuse in Campus Struggles

In addition to mental health challenges and sexual assault, substance abuse is another issue that is deeply intertwined with the campus experience. Alcohol and drug use are unfortunately common among college students, and for many, partying or experimenting with substances is viewed as an integral part of social life. However, for some, these substances become a coping mechanism for the stress, anxiety, and depression that they are grappling with.

The National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism (NIAAA) reports that about 60% of full-time college students between the ages of 18 and 22 drink alcohol, with 40% engaging in binge drinking. Excessive alcohol consumption is often linked to risky behaviors, including unsafe sexual activity, physical injuries, and academic struggles. For students already dealing with mental health issues, alcohol can exacerbate feelings of depression and anxiety, creating a dangerous cycle of dependence and emotional turmoil.

Drugs, including prescription medication misuse, marijuana, and party drugs, are also prevalent on campuses. These substances may be used to self-medicate for anxiety or depression, or they may be part of a social trend. The consequences of substance abuse are severe, ranging from academic failure and legal issues to addiction and overdose. For students in crisis, turning to drugs and alcohol may feel like an escape, but it ultimately only deepens their problems.

Campuses need to take substance abuse seriously by offering programs that promote responsible drinking, early intervention for at-risk students, and support for those struggling with addiction. Universities must also be proactive in educating students about the dangers of alcohol and drug abuse, providing resources for students who may need help overcoming addiction, and ensuring that they have a clear path to recovery.

The Months After Graduation: A New Set of Pressures

For many students, the madness doesn’t end when they graduate. In fact, some may argue that it intensifies. The months following graduation bring a new set of challenges and anxieties. While some students quickly find jobs, others face the harsh reality of a competitive job market, uncertainty, and the pressure to establish themselves as successful adults.

Recent graduates often struggle with the transition from the structured environment of college to the ambiguity of the professional world. Many face the disappointment of job rejections or the discouragement of landing positions that don’t align with their degree or career aspirations. The search for meaningful work, combined with the financial strain of student loans, can lead to feelings of failure, depression, and isolation.

This period is especially challenging for students who may have expected to step into a job immediately after graduation or who lack a clear career path. The societal pressure to “have it all figured out” within the first few months of post-graduation life can exacerbate anxiety and self-doubt. Graduates are expected to succeed quickly, to climb the career ladder, and to live independently—yet many are struggling with the emotional fallout from the relentless pressure of college life and the overwhelming uncertainty of the future.

Moreover, the feeling of isolation can be particularly pronounced during this time. Students leave behind the community of friends and professors that supported them through college, and in the midst of job applications, networking, and interviews, they often find themselves feeling disconnected. The support systems that existed in college become harder to access, and many graduates feel like they’re navigating their post-college life alone.

A Call for Compassion and Understanding

The madness on campus isn’t just about the chaos of late-night cramming sessions or the excitement of sports games. It’s about the unseen mental health struggles that affect so many students every day. It’s about creating a system that values students as whole individuals, not just as future professionals or academic performers.

In the face of this crisis, it is imperative that colleges and universities act now. By prioritizing mental health, fostering a culture of compassion, and offering the resources and support that students need, we can ensure that the madness on campus transforms from a chaotic burden to an environment of healing, growth, and well-being. The future of higher education must be one where students are supported in every sense—academically, socially, and emotionally. Only then will we be able to protect our students from the madness that too often consumes them.

Resources for Students Struggling with Mental Health, Sexual Assault, and Substance Abuse:

If you or someone you know is struggling with any of the following issues, here are some resources to reach out to:

• National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) – Available 24/7 for confidential support.

• Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 – Free, 24/7 text support for those in crisis.

• National Sexual Violence Resource Center (NSVRC): www.nsvrc.org – Offers resources and support for sexual assault survivors.

• RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network): 1-800-656-HOPE (4673) – National sexual assault hotline offering confidential support and resources.

• Alcoholics Anonymous (AA): www.aa.org – Provides support for individuals struggling with alcohol addiction.

• National Institute on Drug Abuse (NIDA): www.drugabuse.gov – Provides resources for students dealing with substance abuse issues.

These resources are here to help students navigate the challenges of mental health, sexual violence, and substance abuse during and after their college years. Don’t be afraid to ask for help—it’s a critical step in finding support and healing.

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.

The Power of Elite Universities

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.

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.

Trump Youth Group Turning Point USA Continues 13-Year Effort to Incite Violence and Claim Victim Status

For almost a decade, the Higher Education Inquirer has covered Turning Point USA (TPUSA) on American campuses. Led by 31-year-old Charlie Kirk, this well-funded pro-Trump youth group has used a variety of tactics to target professors and incite violence in its attempt to gain right wing control over university campuses, while claiming to be victims of the Left. Our efforts to expose Kirk and his growing Turning Point empire have gained insufficient traction as the Trump administration continues its war on intellectuals and on social justice. And we are saddened to see well-meaning resistance groups take the bait. We implore university professors and university activists to educate students and their communities inside and outside the ivory tower walls about the many strategies of nonviolence resistance. The Right wing has already taken much of Left's playbook, which means new methods of resistance are required. And with President Trump in power again, the Right has even more power. Fighting fascism requires enormous skill, not masks and fists.   

 

Violence erupts at UC Davis Turning Point event | Investigation Underway (ABC10-Northern California)

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.

University Presidents Called to Action

Elite universities, long considered the pinnacle of higher education, have become increasingly entwined in a broader conversation about privilege, access, and power. From their controversial legacy admissions practices to their outsized political influence, these institutions are not merely places of learning—they are gatekeepers of social and economic power, shaping the future through both exclusion and influence. Beyond their academic roles, these universities have extended their reach into local communities, using their enormous wealth and influence to take control of land, shape urban landscapes, and solidify their power within regional politics.

The legacy admissions system, which provides preferential treatment to the children and grandchildren of alumni, is a glaring example of how these universities perpetuate privilege. Institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Stanford—universities that consistently rank among the top in the nation—have long utilized this practice to ensure that the doors to elite education remain open to those already within the circles of power. By admitting students with lesser academic qualifications solely because of their family connections, these schools continue a long tradition of insularity, effectively reserving spaces for the wealthy and well-connected. Despite growing opposition, including recent moves by California’s private colleges to ban legacy admissions, the practice remains a powerful force, locking out more qualified, diverse applicants and ensuring that the privileged maintain access to elite institutions.

In addition to these admissions practices, elite universities exert considerable influence on the political landscape. The recent revelations about their political spending—millions funneled into federal campaigns, overwhelmingly favoring Democratic candidates—highlight a disturbing trend. Universities like Harvard, Stanford, and Johns Hopkins are not neutral players in the policy arena; they are active participants in shaping the very policies that benefit their interests. Whether it’s lobbying for federal funding, securing advantageous tax policies, or influencing regulations related to higher education, these universities use their wealth to protect and expand their power. These schools are not just centers of academic pursuit—they are political players in their own right, using their financial clout to shape the policies that govern education, tax law, and more.

Beyond their influence in academia and politics, elite universities increasingly exert power over the very land on which they sit. In many cities, top-tier universities like Harvard, Stanford, Columbia, and the University of Chicago are not just educational institutions—they are economic and political powerhouses. With multi-billion-dollar endowments, these institutions often wield more financial clout than entire cities. They routinely expand their campuses, purchasing properties, and in some cases, entire neighborhoods, often displacing long-standing communities in the process. This process, commonly known as "university-led gentrification," transforms urban spaces, driving up property values and rents while pushing out lower-income residents.

Universities often justify their land acquisitions as part of their mission to expand their campuses, build new research centers, and offer more housing for students and faculty. However, the impact on local communities can be severe. In many cases, universities use their tax-exempt status to avoid paying property taxes on the land they acquire, depriving local governments of revenue while also claiming a disproportionate share of urban space. This allows them to grow their influence without contributing fully to the neighborhoods in which they are embedded.

This land-grabbing behavior has sparked resistance in cities across the country. In Boston, for example, Harvard and MIT have been critiqued for taking over large swaths of land in the Allston and Kendall Square neighborhoods, displacing low-income residents and local businesses. In New York, Columbia’s expansion into Harlem sparked protests from community members who felt their homes and livelihoods were being sacrificed to the university’s growth. In many cases, these universities lobby local governments to secure favorable zoning laws, tax breaks, and exemptions that allow them to build at will and maintain their growing empire.

Both legacy admissions and political donations underscore a fundamental truth: elite universities are not just educational institutions—they are institutions of power. They maintain an oligarchic structure that privileges those already in positions of wealth and influence, while shaping local economies and political systems to ensure their continued dominance. By hoarding access to elite education, they perpetuate a system in which the children of the wealthy have a head start in both education and society, while simultaneously lobbying for policies that further cement their own influence. Through their land acquisitions, gentrification, political donations, and admissions practices, these universities continue to consolidate their power, reinforcing an elitist status quo that leaves many outside looking in.

In all of this, university presidents have increasingly positioned themselves as moral arbiters, asserting their institutions’ commitment to social justice, inclusion, and equality. Yet this moral high ground becomes precarious when their administrations take extreme measures to suppress resistance. Protests against their policies—whether regarding gentrification, climate change, or labor rights—are often met with heavy-handed tactics. University leaders, eager to preserve their public image, have been known to deploy security forces, call in the police, or even collaborate with local governments to disband protests. In some cases, these universities have resorted to legal action against student and faculty activists, silencing dissent through threats of discipline, expulsion, or other punitive measures.

This duplicity becomes even more apparent when considering the moral stands many university leaders take in public, promoting inclusivity, diversity, and progressive values, while simultaneously suppressing those who challenge their institution’s power dynamics. In the face of mounting resistance from marginalized communities or student groups, these leaders prefer to maintain control over their campuses and public narratives, often using administrative power to quash any movements that may disrupt the status quo.

Yet, history has shown that even the most entrenched systems can change, and university presidents are not beyond the possibility of transformation. Just as some figures in the Bible experienced profound revelations that led them to change course and right their wrongs, university leaders, too, can have moments of reckoning. Consider the example of King David, whose heart was changed after his confrontation with the prophet Nathan over his sin (2 Samuel 12). David, once blinded by his own power, repented and chose a path of humility and righteousness. In the same way, university presidents, confronted by the voices of resistance, public outcry, or moral awakening, could choose to lead their institutions toward a more just and equitable future. In the New Testament, Saul’s conversion on the road to Damascus (Acts 9) serves as another powerful reminder that no one is beyond redemption. Saul, who once persecuted early Christians, was transformed into Paul, one of the most influential apostles in Christian history. Similarly, a university president could choose to recognize the harm their institution has caused and decide to enact transformative policies that benefit marginalized communities and dismantle the systems of privilege they have helped sustain.

Moses is another figure whose story exemplifies the power of divine revelation to shift course. As a prince of Egypt, Moses had everything at his disposal, yet he chose to stand up to Pharaoh when he recognized the injustice of the Hebrew people’s oppression. His moment of conviction led him to free his people from slavery, even though it required courage to defy a powerful ruler (Exodus 3-4). In the same way, a university president must stand up to the powerful trustees and donors who expect to maintain the status quo. To act in the face of such resistance requires profound moral courage—a willingness to lead against entrenched interests that protect wealth and privilege.

Another key figure in the Old Testament is Esther, who displayed extraordinary courage in a moment of great moral clarity. She risked her life by standing up to King Xerxes to save the Jewish people from annihilation (Esther 4). As the queen, she was in a powerful position, but it was only when she realized the enormity of the injustice at hand that she chose to act. Similarly, university presidents with the power to challenge the status quo can, like Esther, use their positions to advocate for justice and equality, even if it means confronting powerful forces that wish to preserve an unjust order.

As university presidents come face to face with the overwhelming issues of racism, injustice, and climate chaos, there exists the possibility of moral revelation—a turning point where they confront the gravity of their actions and their institutions’ role in perpetuating harm. The growing calls for racial justice, fueled by movements like Black Lives Matter, demand an acknowledgment of the systemic racism embedded in these universities. Whether through the disproportionate representation of wealthy white students or the stark inequities in faculty and leadership diversity, these institutions must reckon with their participation in racial oppression. Similarly, as the climate crisis deepens, universities’ investments in fossil fuels and their ongoing complicity in the destruction of the environment have become focal points for student activists and global environmental movements. Universities, often perceived as beacons of progress, have a responsibility to divest from industries contributing to ecological collapse and instead use their vast resources for environmental justice.

And yet, one of the greatest challenges these university leaders will face lies not only in the resistance of external forces like protestors, activists, and the general public, but also in the powerful trustees and donors who hold significant sway over the institutions’ direction. Many universities are closely tied to wealthy benefactors and influential trustees whose interests often align with maintaining the status quo—whether through preserving investment strategies, political stances, or traditional admissions processes. These figures are not simply investors in the university's future; they are powerful stakeholders with the resources to shape institutional policies and procedures, often with little regard for social justice or environmental responsibility.

For a university president to truly lead with courage and integrity, they must be willing to go against these powerful forces. This would require challenging the entrenched interests of those who have long benefited from an elite, exclusionary system and are reluctant to embrace the radical changes needed to address systemic injustice. It takes immense fortitude to stand up to trustees and donors who view universities as tools for preserving their wealth and influence, rather than forces for good in the world.

But university presidents who choose to go against these forces can become true moral leaders. They can take inspiration from figures like Moses, who boldly defied Pharaoh’s power to liberate the oppressed, or Esther, whose bravery in standing up to the king saved her people (Esther 4). In doing so, they would not only transform their institutions but also serve as examples of ethical leadership in a time when such leadership is sorely needed.

The courage to defy powerful donors and trustees would mark a dramatic shift in how elite universities operate. Presidents could, if they choose, champion a new vision—one where social justice, racial equality, and environmental sustainability are at the forefront of institutional priorities. Just as Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt toward a promised land of freedom, so too could university presidents lead their institutions out of the grip of elitism and corporate influence, steering them toward a more equitable and just future.

Both legacy admissions, political donations, land control, and the suppression of protest point to a deeper issue: elite universities have built themselves into institutions of unparalleled power. These universities operate not only as educational establishments but also as political and economic entities, constantly reinforcing a structure of privilege, wealth, and exclusion. The dissonance between their public declarations of moral authority and their actions to protect entrenched power reveals the true nature of these institutions. They are not the bastions of free inquiry and social good they often claim to be—they are powerful, self-interested players in a system that serves to preserve the very inequalities they profess to challenge.

However, the possibility remains that these institutions—guided by transformative leadership—could embrace a new path. University presidents could heed the call for justice, as many leaders in history have, and change the trajectory of their institutions, opting to lead in ways that promote true equity, racial justice, and environmental stewardship. These universities—once seen as places of learning and opportunity—could become what they claim to be: inclusive, just, and truly committed to the betterment of society. They are the architects of the future they seek to create: one where the privileged no longer remain firmly entrenched at the top, and where political, economic, and educational structures are reshaped for the common good. Whether through legacy admissions, political spending, land control, or suppressing protest, these institutions continue to consolidate their power, but with the right leadership, they can still pivot toward a more just future—one that embodies the values they espouse.

[Editor's note: This essay, written for elite university presidents, is intended as a rhetorical device rather than a statement of facts. We find that everyone has their own "mythology" or set of mythologies they follow. As with all our work, we value your feedback.]

Lies, Damn Lies, and Projections: Higher Ed Business and the Enrollment Cliff

While nothing is for sure, we at the Higher Education Inquirer believe higher education enrollment is going to continue on a slow downward slope for the foreseeable future, and that it could get worse. Looking at the numbers we see, it's difficult to imagine anyone arguing this. But today there is a debate between those who believe in the enrollment cliff and those who do not.

The Debate

Carleton College Professor Nathan Grawe has used the term "enrollment cliff" to describe the decline that is projected to come to a number of states within the next two years and with a trend that will last for a number of years. He uses information from a number of sources, including the Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE) to make these estimates. These projected declines are the result of a decline in births during and after the Great Recession. US fertility and birth rates have been declining for generations, but enrollment has been shored up by in-migration and higher rates of high school graduation. These rates could increase as abortions are criminalized.  

US Department of Education enrollment projections are fueling the debate for enrollment cliff deniers. But HEI has observed that ED has been wrong in its projections for years and has largely maintained its faulty formula. Presumably the enrollment cliff deniers also don't believe in the projections by WICHE which predicts modest declines in the number of high school graduates. For the record, these deniers are not uniform in their beliefs, values, or their intentions. 

University of Wisconsin-River Falls Professor Neil Kraus, author of the Fantasy Economy: Neoliberalism, Inequality, and the Education Reform Movement, believes that "in the aggregate, higher ed enrollments are fairly constant over time, and if you go back decades, have gradually gone up." Kraus has a point. Relatively stable birth rates would seemingly keep enrollments stable, but there are other social, economic, and political factors in the equation. 

It's a Racket on Both Sides 

Some enrollment deniers may not be so sincere. Many in the education business, including the Department of Education, have vested interests in believing everything is OK. But it's not OK. And while funding is important, it's not the entire answer, especially when the money goes into the wrong (greedy) hands, as it frequently does. 

Higher education has become a racket that has garnered increasing public skepticism about its value. That does not mean that parents won't continue to buy into the college mania and encourage all their children to go to a college regardless of the costs, and the potential debt.   

Some who believe in the enrollment cliff, and pitch it to others, may also be insincere. The President of the University of Idaho, for example, has used the enrollment cliff to rationalize their purchase of the University of Phoenix to shore up their revenues, even though Idaho is not likely to feel dramtic looses in enrollment. There are undoubtedly many others who are using this phenomenon to scare people into buying and selling their products and services.

Coming to a Consensus?

Perhaps the term "enrollment cliff" needs to be defined or the term to define the enrollment decline needs to be renamed. No one can deny that US higher education has seen an enrollment peak and a slow steady decline since 2011. There are also estimates that population declines will occur in many states, as a result of out-migration patterns that have been ongoing. There are other states that will continue to see enrollment gains, especially in the South and West. Maybe enrollment cliff is too harsh a term, but reduced enrollment cannot be ignored. 

Related links: 

Department of Education Fails (Again) to Modify Enrollment Projections

State Budgets Are Downsizing (Pew)

College Meltdown 3.0 Could Start Earlier (And End Worse) Than Planned

Baby Boomers Turning 80: The Flip Side of the 2026 Enrollment Cliff

State Universities and the College Meltdown

"20-20": Many US States Have Seen Enrollment Drops of More Than 20 Percent

US Department of Education Fails to Recognize College Meltdown

Forecasting the US College Meltdown

Have Revenues Peaked For US Public Higher Education?

Student higher education enrollment has been headed in a downward trajectory for about 14 years. So, at some point we should have expected revenues to drop. This revenue decline, according to the US Department of Education statistics, finally happened in 2022, the last year reported.  

But until ED updates higher ed revenue numbers, we won't know if we are seeing a statistical blip or something bigger and more long-term. These are numbers that some in the higher ed business may deny, hide, or rationalize for years to come. 

Alabama, Michigan, Missouri, Texas, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West Virginia, and Wyoming had similar looking revenue drops in 2022. States with years of consistent declining enrollment, and there are many of them, are difficult to assess without more data.  Some states, like Pennsylvania, have long flat line revenue trajectories that show obvious trends of stagnation. States with growing populations (aside from Texas) appear to have upward revenue trends.

Did federal money received during the Covid crisis artificially lift revenues, leading to an eventual short-term correction, or is there something more to look at?  Saying it's a short-term correction would be a simple answer that higher ed industry proponents could use on the front stage, whether or not it's completely true. But it may be too simple. 

In the future, we will drill down into these numbers and examine revenues in subsets of public higher education, to include community colleges, HBCUs and other minority serving institutions, state universities, and flagship universities in various regions of the US. Private schools (which we will discuss later) may be in a deeper revenue decline. There are few apparent patterns, other than that the rich have gotten richer and the poor poorer (this too we will discuss in another article).

If higher education revenues continue to decline, as they appear to be doing for 2024-2025, what will we see on the ground level? Will there be budget cuts and layoffs?  The California State University System is already bracing for a $1 Billion shortfall, and they are not alone. 

What happens with higher education revenues as the enrollment cliff approaches and states are considering higher education budget cuts?  What happens to schools that rely mostly on tuition and fees with few other sources of revenues? Should institutions expect to receive more federal funds again in the next (inevitable) economic downturn?

 

Related link:

State Budgets Are Downsizing (Pew)

College Meltdown 3.0 Could Start Earlier (And End Worse) Than Planned

Baby Boomers Turning 80: The Flip Side of the 2026 Enrollment Cliff

When will US higher ed revenues peak?

State Universities and the College Meltdown

"20-20": Many US States Have Seen Enrollment Drops of More Than 20 Percent 

Interview with Dahn Shaulis - Higher Education Inquirer (College Viability)

"Let's all pretend we couldn't see it coming" (The US Working-Class Depression)