Faith vs. Geology: Pangaea and the Great Deluge Theory at Liberty University

In the early 20th century, German scientist Alfred Wegener introduced the idea of continental drift, proposing that Earth's continents were once joined in a massive supercontinent called Pangaea. Though initially dismissed, his theory gained traction in the 1960s with the emergence of plate tectonics—a unifying model that explains how Earth's outer shell is divided into moving plates. This theory, now a cornerstone of modern geology, posits that Pangaea began to break apart roughly 230 million years ago, eventually forming the continents we recognize today. The overwhelming evidence for this process includes matching fossils on different continents, corresponding rock formations, and patterns in ancient species distribution. Radiometric dating techniques support the conclusion that Earth is about 4.54 billion years old, a timescale that allows for the slow, natural processes responsible for shaping the planet.

In stark contrast, Liberty University's Center for Creation Studies offers an alternative interpretation of Earth’s history rooted in a literal reading of the Bible. Situated in the Rawlings School of Divinity’s Freedom Tower—the tallest building in Lynchburg, Virginia—the Center teaches students to understand science through the lens of Genesis. Its Great Deluge Theory, based on the biblical account of Noah's Flood, rejects the mainstream scientific consensus. Instead of accepting that Earth’s continents drifted apart over hundreds of millions of years, the Center asserts that many geological features, including fossil layers and sedimentary rock strata, were formed rapidly during a single global flood event just a few thousand years ago. Young Earth creationism, which underpins the curriculum, maintains that the planet is no older than 10,000 years, and that natural history can be fully explained through divine intervention.

The divergence between these views is more than a matter of interpretation—it reflects fundamentally different epistemologies. Plate tectonics is grounded in empirical research, the scientific method, and peer review. It invites scrutiny, thrives on testable hypotheses, and evolves in response to new evidence. In contrast, Liberty’s model begins with a predetermined conclusion: the Bible is historically and scientifically accurate in every detail. Evidence is selectively interpreted to fit this framework, and contradictory data—no matter how extensive—is either reinterpreted or dismissed. This approach aligns more closely with apologetics than with science.

While Liberty University positions its creationist program as a means to equip students to "contend for their faith," critics argue that it misrepresents scientific knowledge and undermines science education. By framing the Great Deluge as a viable scientific alternative to plate tectonics, the institution promotes a parallel academic universe in which faith-based doctrines masquerade as empirical conclusions. The implications go beyond the classroom. As Liberty-trained educators and policymakers enter the workforce, the divide between evidence-based science and theological worldviews has the potential to further erode public understanding of geology, biology, and climate science.

The tension between these two narratives—one driven by data and theory, the other by scripture and conviction—mirrors broader cultural and political divides in the United States. In this climate, Liberty University’s Great Deluge Theory stands not merely as a fringe belief but as part of an organized ideological project. It seeks to challenge the authority of secular science and replace it with a creationist worldview, reinforced by institutional power, strategic philanthropy, and media amplification through outlets like Fox News and Turning Point USA.

Pangaea remains a foundational concept in understanding Earth's deep past—a testament to scientific inquiry and intellectual perseverance. The Great Deluge Theory, by contrast, functions more as a religious counter-narrative, one that reveals the growing influence of Christian nationalism within certain sectors of U.S. higher education. At Liberty University, students are taught not only to question modern geology but to replace it with a model of the Earth shaped by divine catastrophe. In doing so, the institution asserts a theological vision of reality that stands in direct opposition to the scientific consensus.

This conflict raises urgent questions about the role of ideology in higher education and the future of scientific literacy in a society increasingly divided along epistemological lines.

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Sources:

National Center for Science Education. “The Creationist Assault on Geology.” NCSE Reports.
https://ncse.ngo/creationist-assault-geology

U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). “Geologic Time.”
https://www.usgs.gov/programs/earthquake-hazards/geologic-time

Wegener, Alfred. The Origin of Continents and Oceans. Translated edition, Dover Publications, 1966.

Liberty University. “Center for Creation Studies.”
https://www.liberty.edu/academics/creationstudies/

Liberty University Rawlings School of Divinity. “Freedom Tower Overview.”
https://www.liberty.edu/divinity/freedom-tower/

Numbers, Ronald L. The Creationists: From Scientific Creationism to Intelligent Design. Harvard University Press, 2006.

Scott, Eugenie C. Evolution vs. Creationism: An Introduction. University of California Press, 2009.

Radiometric Dating and the Age of the Earth. TalkOrigins Archive.
http://www.talkorigins.org/faqs/dating.html

Lisle, Jason. The Ultimate Proof of Creation. Master Books, 2009. (Representative of Liberty-style apologetics)

The Functional Poverty of US Higher Education

In 1971, sociologist Herbert J. Gans published The Positive Functions of Poverty, a provocative essay that argued poverty persists not due to a lack of solutions, but because it benefits powerful institutions. Over fifty years later, his thesis haunts U.S. higher education, which does not merely reflect inequality but actively relies on it. The system functions less as an engine of mobility and more as a mechanism for managing and monetizing the poor.

Today, poverty is not an accident of the US higher education system—it is a prerequisite for its operation.

Poverty as Institutional Legitimacy

Colleges and universities frequently promote themselves as pathways out of poverty, showcasing stories of Pell Grant recipients and first-generation students to validate their missions. These narratives help secure federal funding, private donations, and political goodwill. Yet the vast majority of poor students never cross the commencement stage. Instead, their presence serves to bolster institutional credibility while masking the reality of systemic failure.

Programs like TRIO, GEAR UP, and Promise scholarships function not to eliminate poverty, but to manage it. They offer modest hope while ensuring the system continues undisturbed.

Poor Students as a Revenue Stream

The financial foundation of higher education rests heavily on low-income students. For-profit colleges, many of them reincarnated under new branding or partnerships, depend almost entirely on federal aid and student loans tied to impoverished enrollees. These institutions aggressively recruit students with big promises and deliver little in return. Graduation rates remain dismal, while student debt mounts.

Private student lenders have filled the remaining gaps left by federal aid caps and rising tuition. Fintech platforms like SoFi, College Ave, and Earnest offer loans with complex terms and minimal consumer protections, particularly to vulnerable students desperate for access. For many borrowers, this creates a lifetime of indebtedness for a credential that may never yield a return.

The Administrative Industry of Poverty

A burgeoning sector of higher education administration is devoted to managing the symptoms of poverty. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) offices—now under political assault—often oversee food banks, mental health outreach, and “resilience” programming for first-gen students. Meanwhile, a growing HR specialty has emerged to “track and support” the poor.

These staffers may act with sincere intention, but their existence also reveals the transactional nature of institutional concern. Without poor students to manage, their roles—and the bureaucracies behind them—would shrink. Food insecurity and academic struggle have become normalized to the point that colleges maintain food pantries as a permanent feature of campus life.

Exploiting the Educated Underclass

As sociologist Gary Roth has observed, higher education produces a surplus of credentialed workers with no corresponding demand. These graduates, often from poor backgrounds, return to campus as adjunct faculty, graduate assistants, or gig workers—essential but expendable.

Their labor sustains the system at low cost. They teach core courses, staff libraries, and support faculty research while earning poverty wages themselves. The promise of education becomes a loop of unfulfilled mobility.

Poor Students as Research Subjects

Low-income students are not only sources of revenue and labor—they are also the subjects of academic research. Entire disciplines, from sociology to education and public health, have been built upon the study of poverty. Yet few researchers challenge the institutional structures that perpetuate the very inequalities they document.

Faculty careers flourish. Tenure is won. Grants are secured. The students themselves often see no tangible benefit from this knowledge production.

Reinforcing the Myth of Meritocracy

Elite universities use a handful of poor students to validate the myth of meritocracy. These “success stories” are amplified through PR campaigns, donor appeals, and glossy admissions brochures. They function as symbolic proof that the system works—even as the vast majority of poor students are shunted into lower-tier institutions with fewer resources and worse outcomes.

The truth is clear: wealth remains the strongest predictor of educational success in the United States.

Stratification by Design

The U.S. higher education system is structured to reproduce class hierarchy. Community colleges and regional public universities disproportionately enroll poor and working-class students. Flagship publics and elite privates cater to the children of the professional and ruling classes.

This credentialing hierarchy maintains social order while offering just enough upward mobility to justify its existence.

Political Utility: Blame the Poor

When institutions face financial shortfalls or declining enrollment, they often scapegoat the poor. Students are labeled unprepared, unmotivated, or emotionally fragile. Rarely are structural causes—such as rising tuition, defunded public services, or predatory loan systems—acknowledged.

Neoliberal reforms and conservative attacks on “woke” education continue to target vulnerable populations, obscuring the institutional failures that drive inequity.

Private Equity and the Monetization of Student Housing

One of the latest frontiers in the commodification of poverty within higher education is campus-adjacent real estate. Private equity (PE) firms are aggressively acquiring student housing near flagship state universities, turning basic shelter into another site of financial extraction.

Evidence of PE Expansion:
Private equity firms such as Investcorp, Rockpoint, and KKR have amassed significant portfolios of student housing near schools like the University of Florida, University of Texas at Austin, and College of Charleston. These acquisitions are not random—they target institutions with large, stable enrollment and limited new housing supply.

Rents on the Rise:
In cities like Tampa, rents increased by 49% from 2019 to 2023—a jump partly attributed to institutional investors, although the exact role of PE firms in driving this increase is contested. Still, anecdotal reports and advocacy groups point to rising rents, increased fees, and aggressive management practices following PE takeovers.

Housing Scarcity as Leverage:
While it's difficult to isolate private equity's influence from broader housing shortages and enrollment growth, it's clear that PE is exploiting structural constraints—just as for-profit colleges exploit financial aid loopholes. Where public universities fail to build sufficient housing, private investors step in, profiting from desperation.

A System That Needs Poverty

Herbert Gans argued that poverty survives because it serves essential functions for society’s powerful institutions. In American higher education, this dynamic is not theoretical—it is lived reality. Colleges and universities don’t just educate the poor; they extract value from them at every level.

From student loans and real estate speculation to adjunct labor and administrative bloat, the system is built around managing—not eradicating—poverty.

Until higher education confronts its own complicity in perpetuating structural inequality, it will remain what it is today: an industry that feeds on hope, and thrives on hardship.

Sources
Gans, Herbert J. “The Positive Functions of Poverty.” American Journal of Sociology, 1971.
Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.
National Center for Education Statistics (NCES)
U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard
Private Equity Stakeholder Project
RealPage Analytics
Advocacy reports on student housing and rent inflation
Higher Education Inquirer FOIA research files

“Wypipo” and Higher Education: Unpacking Race, Privilege, and Power in U.S. Colleges

What Does “Wypipo” Mean?

“Wypipo” mimics the pronunciation of “white people” but carries critical connotations. It is often used to call out behaviors associated with whiteness, including racial entitlement, cultural tone-deafness, and systemic blindness to inequities. The term serves as both a cultural critique and an assertion of resistance against normalized white dominance.

Higher Education and “Wypipo”: The Landscape

U.S. colleges and universities remain sites where whiteness shapes admissions, curriculum, governance, and culture. Predominantly white institutions (PWIs) continue to reinforce racial disparities despite diversity initiatives (Espenshade & Radford, 2009; Alon, 2015). Curricula center Eurocentric perspectives, while faculty and administrative leadership remain disproportionately white (Turner, González, & Wong, 2011).

Charlie Kirk, Turning Point USA, and Liberty University: Conservative “Wypipo” Powerhouses

Among the most prominent embodiments of “Wypipo” influence in higher education are conservative activist Charlie Kirk and his organization, Turning Point USA (TPUSA). Founded in 2012, TPUSA has become a major force in conservative campus organizing, advancing a right-wing political agenda centered on opposition to what it terms “woke” ideology and critical race theory.

Charlie Kirk’s activism includes extensive social media campaigns, campus chapters, and large-scale conferences that mobilize predominantly white student bases. His rhetoric often frames racial justice efforts as threats to free speech and traditional values, casting “wokeness” as a form of indoctrination (Cowan, 2020). Kirk’s influence extends into shaping public policy and funding flows, leveraging connections with major donors and political figures.

Liberty University, founded by evangelical leader Jerry Falwell Sr., is a key institutional partner in this conservative higher education ecosystem. Liberty positions itself as an alternative to mainstream universities, promoting Christian conservative values with significant political and financial resources. Its student body and leadership largely reflect a white evangelical demographic that aligns with Kirk’s messaging. Together, TPUSA and Liberty University represent a coordinated cultural and political push that sustains whiteness as a dominant force in higher education debates (Harriot, 2021).

Michael Harriot’s Insights on “Wypipo” and Power

Journalist and cultural critic Michael Harriot has explored how whiteness functions not only as racial identity but as a system of social control. In his work, Harriot emphasizes the performative and often self-interested nature of white activism and the ways white power adapts to preserve itself, including in educational settings (Harriot, 2017).

Harriot’s analyses illuminate how figures like Kirk and institutions like Liberty University deploy cultural narratives that obscure systemic racism while mobilizing racial resentment. This dynamic reinforces “Wypipo” dominance under the guise of protecting free expression or traditional values, often at the expense of marginalized students and faculty.

How “Wypipo” Reveals Structural Inequities

The use of “Wypipo” challenges higher education stakeholders to recognize whiteness as an active, often unmarked, structure of privilege. Critical race theory frames whiteness as a form of property and power that shapes institutional policies, resource distribution, and cultural norms (Harris, 1993; Lipsitz, 1998).

This perspective calls on predominantly white faculty, administrators, and students to examine their roles in perpetuating inequities, even unconsciously (DiAngelo, 2018). It also critiques diversity efforts that focus on surface inclusion without addressing deeper power imbalances (Ahmed, 2012).

Controversy and Necessity of the Term

While “Wypipo” can be provocative and controversial, it forces a confrontation with realities often softened or ignored in polite discourse. Scholars argue that such language is essential for disrupting entrenched whiteness and fostering honest conversations about race and power (Delgado & Stefancic, 2017).

Toward Equity Beyond “Wypipo”

True progress requires dismantling systemic racism in admissions, curriculum, governance, and campus climate. This means elevating marginalized voices, redistributing power, and holding institutions accountable (Gasman, Kim, & Nguyen, 2011; Harper, 2012). Programs rooted in critical race pedagogy and institutional change show promise for fostering inclusive educational spaces (Ladson-Billings, 1995; Solórzano & Yosso, 2002).

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References

• Ahmed, S. (2012). On Being Included: Racism and Diversity in Institutional Life. Duke University Press.

• Alon, S. (2015). Race, gender, and the stratification of college science majors. Sociology of Education, 88(3), 259–280.

• Bowen, W. G., & Bok, D. (1998). The Shape of the River: Long-Term Consequences of Considering Race in College and University Admissions. Princeton University Press.

• Cowan, T. (2020). The culture war on campus: Turning Point USA and conservative student activism. Journal of Higher Education Politics and Policy, 22(1), 45–62.

• Delgado, R., & Stefancic, J. (2017). Critical Race Theory: An Introduction (3rd ed.). NYU Press.

• DiAngelo, R. (2018). White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism. Beacon Press.

• Espenshade, T. J., & Radford, A. W. (2009). No Longer Separate, Not Yet Equal: Race and Class in Elite College Admission and Campus Life. Princeton University Press.

• Gasman, M., Kim, J., & Nguyen, T.-H. (2011). Engaging faculty of color in the academy: Lessons from multiple perspectives. The Journal of Higher Education, 82(2), 152–182.

• Harper, S. R. (2012). Race without racism: How higher education researchers minimize racist institutional norms. The Review of Higher Education, 36(1), 9–29.

• Harriot, M. (2017). The Case for Reparations—and Why White America’s Resistance Is About Power. The Root.

• Harris, C. I. (1993). Whiteness as property. Harvard Law Review, 106(8), 1707–1791.

• hooks, b. (1994). Teaching to Transgress: Education as the Practice of Freedom. Routledge.

• Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). Toward a theory of culturally relevant pedagogy. American Educational Research Journal, 32(3), 465–491.

• Leonardo, Z. (2004). The Color of Supremacy: Beyond the Discourse of 'White Privilege'. Educational Philosophy and Theory, 36(2), 137–152.

• Lipsitz, G. (1998). The Possessive Investment in Whiteness: How White People Profit from Identity Politics. Temple University Press.

• Sander, R. (2012). Mismatch: How Affirmative Action Hurts Students It’s Intended to Help, and Why Universities Won’t Admit It. Basic Books.

• Smith, W. A., Allen, W. R., & Danley, L. L. (2007). “Assume the position…you fit the description”: Psychosocial experiences and racial battle fatigue among African American male college students. American Behavioral Scientist, 51(4), 551–578.

• Solórzano, D. G., & Yosso, T. J. (2002). Critical race methodology: Counter-storytelling as an analytical framework for education research. Qualitative Inquiry, 8(1), 23–44.

• Sue, D. W., Capodilupo, C. M., Torino, G. C., Bucceri, J. M., Holder, A. M. B., Nadal, K. L., & Esquilin, M. (2007). Racial microaggressions in everyday life: Implications for clinical practice. American Psychologist, 62(4), 271–286.

• Turner, C. S. V., González, J. C., & Wong, K. (2011). Faculty women of color: The critical nexus of race and gender. Journal of Diversity in Higher Education, 4(4), 199–211.

Selling Armageddon

In an age defined by manufactured crises, weaponized ignorance, and the commodification of fear, a disturbing coalition has emerged—one that profits not from progress, but from collapse. This coalition spans billionaires and bomb makers, Ivy League technocrats and evangelical foot soldiers, data miners and doomsday preachers. They aren't just predicting the end of the world. They're selling it.

The title Selling Armageddon captures a disturbing trend within American society—and particularly within the intersection of higher education, technology, and political ideology—where fear, fatalism, and anti-intellectualism have become not just cultural phenomena but profit centers.

The Profiteers of the Apocalypse

Billionaire venture capitalist Peter Thiel, a vocal critic of democracy and champion of techno-libertarianism, is emblematic of this ethos. Thiel's investments in surveillance, biotech, and defense contractors like Palantir are not just financial bets—they are ideological declarations. He has publicly said that he no longer believes freedom and democracy are compatible. Instead, Thiel supports strongmen, deregulated markets, and technological sovereignty for elites.

Thiel has also funneled money into right-wing institutions and figures that sow distrust in public institutions, especially higher education. Simultaneously, he and other members of the "techno-elite" invest in private learning incubators, surveillance infrastructure, and seasteading projects that imagine life after democracy—or after the planet.

These billionaires are preparing for Armageddon not by preventing it, but by monetizing it: funding bunkers in New Zealand, buying private islands, or investing in orbital real estate. As The Guardian once asked, “What happens when the people who make our futures no longer believe in the future?”

Enter Elon Musk, who brings to the Armageddon marketplace a particularly seductive brand of techno-messianism. Musk has built an empire not just on electric cars and space rockets, but on a narrative that humanity is doomed unless it follows his vision: Mars colonization, AI supremacy, and deregulated everything. His companies depend on government contracts, foreign labor, non-unionized workplaces, and public subsidies—all while he rails against the very institutions that enabled his rise.

Musk’s appeal lies in his ability to market collapse as innovation. Colonizing Mars is framed not as escapism for the rich, but as salvation for the species. Neuralink’s experiments on animals and humans are marketed as “progress.” Buying and gutting Twitter—now X—is portrayed as “free speech absolutism,” even as it becomes a haven for far-right propaganda and anti-intellectual conspiracy theories. Musk does not offer solutions for Earth. He sells a lifeboat for elites—and a live stream of the ship sinking for the rest.

The War on Higher Education: Enter Charlie Kirk

Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, is one of the most visible faces of the new anti-intellectual populism. Kirk, who has no college degree himself, built a political empire by demonizing higher education and promoting a gospel of grievance. Funded in part by the same billionaire class that bankrolls tech libertarians like Thiel and lionizes Elon Musk, Kirk has launched aggressive campaigns to surveil, blacklist, and harass professors and students who challenge conservative orthodoxy.

His Turning Point “Professor Watchlist” is not just an attack on individuals—it is an assault on the very notion of critical inquiry. In Kirk’s universe, universities are not flawed institutions to be reformed but radical breeding grounds to be destroyed. He promotes a worldview in which faith is pure, facts are suspect, and feelings of persecution are monetized.

While Kirk claims to be fighting “Marxism” and “wokeness,” what he is actually selling is obedience—particularly to corporate power, Christian nationalism, and militarized borders. His audience is taught that the future is a war, and they must choose sides: us vs. them, believers vs. traitors, patriots vs. professors.

Naomi Klein and the Shock Doctrine of Now

Naomi Klein’s work, especially The Shock Doctrine, offers a crucial lens for understanding how crises—real or manufactured—are used to erode public institutions and consolidate wealth. The COVID-19 pandemic, mass shootings, climate catastrophes, and political chaos have each served as moments of opportunity for privatizers, war profiteers, and ideological extremists.

In her more recent writings, Klein explores how conspiracy culture and fascist-adjacent movements have merged with wellness grifts and anti-science ideologies to create a new reactionary consumer base. Higher education has been both target and tool in this ecosystem—either accused of being too “woke,” or silently complicit in the march toward corporate authoritarianism.

Musk, like Thiel and Kirk, has leveraged this blend of libertarianism and grievance politics—tapping into populist rage while making his wealth on the back of public resources. Together, they represent a new ruling class that doesn’t just tolerate ignorance—they capitalize on it.

“Freedom Cities”: Privatized Utopia, Public Disaster

A key component of the Armageddon economy is the “Freedom City” project—a concept championed by Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and now embraced by Trump Republicans. On the surface, these cities promise deregulation, innovation, and technological advancement. But beneath the buzzwords is a vision of society in which public governance is replaced by corporate fiefdoms.

In Freedom Cities, there are no public universities—only credential mills optimized for employer branding. There are no town halls—only shareholder meetings. Laws are written by venture capitalists, not legislatures. These cities are not democratic experiments—they are controlled environments designed to ensure elite survival and labor discipline. Education is not about knowledge; it’s about code bootcamps, ideological training, and loyalty to corporate overlords.

Some Freedom City backers go so far as to frame these cities as escapes from the “decay” of American democracy. In this vision, the United States itself becomes disposable—its lands and labor extracted, its public institutions hollowed out, its higher education system replaced with behavioral conditioning and biometric surveillance.

Freedom Cities are the spatial manifestation of fatalistic capitalism—a place to survive the collapse that capitalism itself caused.

The Israel Factor

Nowhere is this more visible than in the militarization of university discourse around Israel and Palestine. Pro-Israel lobbying groups, sometimes in collaboration with groups like Turning Point USA and tech influencers on X, have used massive funding and public pressure to silence academic dissent, criminalize protest, and reshape curricula. Many elite universities have openly collaborated with defense contractors, some of whom profit from technologies tested on Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank.

This is not merely about Israel—it is about the normalization of permanent war as a condition of life. It is about desensitizing the public to state violence, turning morality into a partisan debate, and monetizing surveillance and repression. These policies, developed in the name of “security,” are later imported back into the United States—on campuses, in classrooms, and across the border.

Selling the End of Knowledge

The university was once imagined as a refuge from the chaos of the world—a place to build better futures. But in this dystopian moment, education is being stripped for parts. Faculty are adjunctified and silenced. Student debt is an albatross. Basic humanities departments are being gutted, while programs in cybersecurity, defense studies, and corporate law are growing.

We are educating people to manage collapse, not prevent it.

Instead of cultivating critical thinkers, institutions churn out bureaucrats for empire and engineers for oligarchs. The architects of Armageddon do not fear higher education—they co-opt it, fund it, rebrand it, and turn it against its original purpose.

Preventing Self-Fulfilling Prophecies

To resist the forces selling Armageddon, we must reclaim higher education as a public good—one grounded in ethics, truth-seeking, and planetary survival. We must refuse the logic of fatalism and reject the grifters who profit from despair. And we must name the forces—Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, Charlie Kirk, the boosters of Freedom Cities, defense contractors, and neoliberal university presidents—that see crisis not as a call for solidarity, but as a sales pitch.

Because if we don’t, the end of the world won’t come with fire or flood.
It will come with a branded dome, a loyalty app, biometric gates—and a tuition bill.

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The Higher Education Inquirer is committed to investigative journalism that challenges elite narratives and exposes structural injustices in academia and beyond.

How the 940-Page Senate Bill Accelerates the College Meltdown

In the midst of economic uncertainty, demographic decline, and ballooning student debt, the U.S. Senate has introduced a 940-page spending and tax reconciliation bill—dubbed by some lawmakers as the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act.” But behind the political branding lies a sweeping blueprint for disinvestment in working-class Americans, especially in higher education. If passed, the bill would not only accelerate the ongoing College Meltdown—it would codify it.

Slashing the Ladder: Pell Grant Restrictions

At the heart of the bill is a deceptively simple change: redefining full-time college attendance from 12 credits per semester to 15 credits. This shift may sound technical, but its consequences are enormous.

According to the Congressional Budget Office and the National Association of Student Financial Aid Administrators (NASFAA), this new definition would result in more than 4.4 million Pell Grant recipients receiving either reduced aid or losing eligibility entirely. An estimated 1.4 million students—mostly community college attendees, part-time students, older learners, and single parents—could lose access to Pell Grants altogether.

In a nation already grappling with declining college enrollments and rising student attrition, these changes will likely push thousands more out of the system and close the door for many before they ever step into a classroom.

Medicaid, SNAP, and the Vanishing Safety Net

Higher education does not exist in a vacuum. The Senate bill proposes more than $930 billion in cuts to Medicaid over the next decade. These cuts come alongside the imposition of work requirements and cost-sharing mandates that will affect millions of low-income Americans—including a significant share of college students.

Many students depend on Medicaid for mental health support, primary care, and prescriptions. Others rely on SNAP to eat. Under the proposed legislation, these essential supports would be stripped from the very students who need them to persist in school.

A 2023 GAO report found that over 30 percent of U.S. college students experience food or housing insecurity. This bill doesn’t just ignore that crisis—it actively worsens it.

Starving Public Colleges

The federal Medicaid cuts would ripple through state budgets, forcing legislatures to make difficult decisions. In many cases, that will mean diverting funds away from public higher education systems.

Already under strain from declining enrollment and years of austerity, public colleges—especially regional universities and community colleges—would face even deeper cuts. The likely result: tuition increases, faculty layoffs, program closures, and the elimination of student services.

In effect, the bill shifts the cost burden of public education from the collective public to individual students and families, reinforcing a model of privatized risk and public abandonment.

Loans Over Grants, Profits Over People

In parallel with Pell Grant restrictions, the bill unwinds critical student loan protections put in place over the last five years. It reverses enhancements to Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans and proposes the elimination of Biden-era loan forgiveness programs.

These changes benefit the student loan servicing industry, which stands to profit from lengthened repayment timelines and reduced cancellation pathways. Meanwhile, borrowers—especially those from low-income backgrounds—are pushed deeper into long-term debt peonage.

For a generation already saddled with debt and entering a labor market rife with instability, the Senate bill amounts to a massive wealth transfer upward—from struggling students to banks and servicers.

Enabling the Rise of Robocolleges

The weakening of financial aid and public support creates fertile ground for low-cost, low-quality alternatives: online diploma mills, edtech credential vendors, and "robocolleges" that replace faculty with algorithms.

Without adequate Pell funding or public college access, desperate students will be more likely to fall into the traps of for-profit institutions and unaccredited providers that promise quick credentials—but often deliver worthless degrees and predatory loans.

This shift doesn’t just hurt students. It undermines the quality of the U.S. workforce, degrades academic labor, and cedes the future of education to automation and private equity.

A Future for the Few

Ultimately, the “One Big Beautiful Bill” cements a two-tiered higher education system: elite universities insulated by billion-dollar endowments, and a gutted public sector limping along under austerity, privatization, and surveillance.

It is no coincidence that these policies are being introduced as the population ages, racial and economic inequality deepens, and faith in democratic institutions erodes. Higher education, once framed as a ladder of mobility, is becoming a narrow gangplank—offering escape only to the few who can afford it.

Meltdown Legislation 

The College Meltdown is no longer a slow decline. It’s being legislated into crisis.

If passed, the Senate’s 940-page bill would mark a turning point: a systemic dismantling of the supports that make higher education possible for working-class Americans. From financial aid to public health, from state colleges to community safety nets, the tools of educational access are being hollowed out by design.

And while elite donors and legislators continue to fund their own children's paths to Princeton and Stanford, millions of other Americans will be left out—again.

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Sources:

• NASFAA: Pell Grant Aid Analysis

• Congressional Budget Office (CBO) Medicaid Cut Estimates

• Inside Higher Ed: “Community Colleges Fear Pell Changes”

• GAO Report: “Food and Housing Insecurity Among College Students”

• Brookings Institution: “Cuts to the Social Safety Net and the Future of Higher Education”

Doing Good? How Nonprofits Exploit the Tax System, Pay Low Wages, and Undermine Labor Rights

The American nonprofit sector, comprising everything from social justice nonprofits to right-wing think tanks, is widely seen as a moral compass in public life. These organizations claim to serve the common good, benefiting from tax-exempt status under Section 501(c)(3) or 501(c)(4) of the U.S. tax code. But beneath the image of benevolence lies a complex ecosystem where low wages, union resistance, and the concentration of wealth and power are all too common. Whether left-leaning or conservative, many nonprofits operate like corporations in all but name—exploiting public subsidies while avoiding the labor and tax obligations of the private sector.

While liberal nonprofits often claim moral high ground, conservative nonprofits such as the Heritage Foundation, Federalist Society, and Turning Point USA are even more explicit in using their nonprofit status for ideological gain. These organizations are generously funded by a network of wealthy donors and dark money, benefiting from laws that shield donor identities while still providing tax breaks. The New York Times and ProPublica have both documented how right-wing nonprofit networks use complex legal structures to move billions in untraceable funds through donor-advised funds and shell charities to influence elections, judiciary appointments, and public policy—while maintaining nonprofit status.

The 2018 creation of the Marble Freedom Trust, which received $1.6 billion in a single donation from electronics magnate Barre Seid, is one of the most striking examples of how conservative nonprofits benefit from the tax system. The money went to Leonard Leo, architect of the conservative judicial movement, and is being used to reshape American courts and governance—all tax-exempt. These conservative nonprofits rarely face scrutiny from the IRS, while progressive nonprofits, especially those tied to activism or labor organizing, often face intense bureaucratic hurdles or audits.

Despite their wealth, conservative nonprofits are not known for paying living wages to their rank-and-file employees. Just as with liberal nonprofits, a culture of ideological commitment is often used to justify stagnant salaries, limited benefits, and the absence of unions. At places like the Leadership Institute or the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, workers may be expected to accept lower compensation for the “privilege” of advancing a conservative mission. Few, if any, of these organizations are unionized. Interns and entry-level employees are often underpaid, even as their organizations maintain multi-million-dollar budgets and highly paid executive teams.

Meanwhile, liberal and progressive nonprofits often mirror this dynamic. The Southern Poverty Law Center, the ACLU, and the Sierra Club have all faced internal revolts from underpaid and overworked staff seeking union protections and better pay. Despite progressive missions, many of these organizations have resisted unionization, hired union-busting consultants, and continued to pay senior leadership six- or seven-figure salaries. The exploitation is bipartisan, rooted not in ideology but in structure: the tax system enables and incentivizes this behavior.

Across the political spectrum, nonprofits depend heavily on unpaid or underpaid labor. Interns, volunteers, and junior staff are routinely told that their sacrifices serve a greater cause, whether that cause is climate justice or dismantling “woke” education. The result is the same: a hollowing out of labor rights under the banner of purpose. The nonprofit sector has become a vehicle for elite influence—liberal and conservative alike—rather than a true instrument of public good.

Unionization in the nonprofit world remains low. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, nonprofit union membership has barely increased over the past three decades. And while there has been an uptick in union drives at liberal nonprofits, conservative organizations have largely avoided these movements altogether. In fact, many conservative nonprofits are actively hostile to organized labor as a matter of principle. The Heritage Foundation, for example, has long opposed the expansion of labor rights and has advised Republican administrations on how to weaken collective bargaining in the public sector.

As nonprofit wealth grows—particularly through endowments, real estate holdings, and tax-exempt investments—workers at the bottom continue to struggle. In higher education, many private nonprofit colleges and universities pay adjunct professors poverty wages while top administrators earn corporate-level compensation. Religious nonprofits, too, have been found to exploit workers under the guise of spiritual service. Megachurches and faith-based charities sometimes use volunteer labor as a substitute for paid employment, all while claiming tax benefits and avoiding federal labor laws.

Reform is urgently needed. Tax exemption should come with clear standards for labor rights, wage equity, and financial transparency. The IRS must enforce restrictions on political spending by nonprofits, particularly those masquerading as educational institutions while operating as partisan arms. Donor disclosure laws should apply across the board, and tax deductions for mega-donations should be limited unless tied to measurable public benefit. If nonprofits are to retain their privileged legal status, they must meet basic ethical and democratic standards.

Until these changes occur, the nonprofit sector will remain a shadow version of the for-profit world—reaping public subsidies while delivering low wages, avoiding unions, and deepening political inequality. Whether the name on the letterhead reads “Heritage Foundation” or “ACLU,” the structure of exploitation is the same. It's not just a crisis of values. It's a crisis of accountability.

Sources

ProPublica. “How a Billionaire’s Donation Exploded the Conservative Nonprofit World.” August 2022. https://www.propublica.org/article/dark-money-leonard-leo-barre-seid

New York Times. “They Legally Moved Billions to Fund Conservatives.” October 2021. https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/05/us/politics/dark-money-nonprofits.html

Associated Press. “Why Workers at a Growing Number of Nonprofits Are Unionizing.” June 2023. https://apnews.com/article/7fd961c88c614db47db63ffcd80e084e

PayScale. “Nonprofit Pay Cut: How Much Are You Losing to Do Good?” https://www.payscale.com/research-and-insights/nonprofit-pay-cut

Teen Vogue. “The Nonprofit Industrial Complex: What Is It and How Does It Work?” https://www.teenvogue.com/story/non-profit-industrial-complex-what-is

Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Nonprofit Earnings and Sectoral Employment in the United States Since 1994.” https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/2024/article/nonprofit-earnings-and-sectoral-employment-in-the-united-states-since-1994.htm

San Francisco Chronicle. “One of the Bay Area’s Most Progressive Nonprofits Is Warring with Itself.” https://www.sfchronicle.com/opinion/soleilho/article/nonprofit-unions-workers-20038770.php

Reddit. “Antiwork Nonprofit Volunteer Testimonies.” https://www.reddit.com/r/antiwork/comments/uhnrfd 

Tech Titans, Ideologues, and the Future of American Higher Education

American higher education is under pressure from within and without—squeezed by financial strain, declining enrollment, political hostility, and technological disruption. But the greatest challenge may be coming from a group of powerful outsiders—figures with deep influence in politics, technology, and media—who are actively reshaping how education is perceived, delivered, and valued. Among them: Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, Sam Altman, Alex Karp, and Charlie Kirk. Each brings a different ideology and strategy, but their combined influence represents an existential threat to traditional colleges and universities.

Donald Trump’s second rise to power has included a full-spectrum attack on elite and public institutions of higher learning. From threats to strip funding from schools that promote diversity, equity, and inclusion, to freezing billions in research grants at elite institutions like Harvard, Trump has positioned universities as enemies in a broader cultural and political war. His proposed education policy emphasizes trade schools and short-term credentials over liberal arts and research, while his administration has floated revoking accreditation from institutions that resist his agenda. Rather than investing in public education, the Trump agenda calls for punishment, privatization, and obedience. And for institutions that don’t comply, there are growing threats of taxation, defunding, and public humiliation.

Elon Musk is undermining higher education in a different way. Musk has openly mocked the need for college degrees, suggesting that “you can learn anything online for free.” While that’s partly rhetoric, it’s also a blueprint for disruption. His experimental school Astra Nova already offers a glimpse into a post-institutional future—one that favors creative, independent thinking over traditional credentialing. Now, with plans to launch the Texas Institute of Technology & Science, Musk is betting that elite training can happen outside the bounds of accreditation and federal oversight. Musk’s future is technocratic and libertarian, with universities seen as bloated, slow-moving, and culturally out of touch.

Peter Thiel’s vision is even more radical. Thiel has compared American higher education to the Catholic Church before the Reformation—rich, corrupt, and intellectually bankrupt. His Thiel Fellowship pays young people to skip college entirely, offering $100,000 to start companies instead of accumulating debt. He argues that universities reward conformity and delay adulthood. For Thiel, colleges don’t just fail to prepare students—they actively mislead them. His endgame is a decentralized, market-driven system in which talent rises through initiative and capital, not credentials.

Sam Altman, CEO of OpenAI, presents yet another threat—this time from artificial intelligence. Altman doesn’t reject learning, but he does question the institutions that monopolize it. With tools like ChatGPT and future AI tutors, Altman envisions personalized, real-time learning for everyone, everywhere. In this model, universities risk becoming obsolete—not because they are wrong, but because they are too slow and too expensive. Altman has also pushed universities to take a more active role in shaping AI policy; if they don’t, the tech industry will do it for them. The message is clear: adapt or be replaced.

Alex Karp, CEO of Palantir, is building a new kind of corporate university. Through programs like the Palantir Meritocracy Fellowship and “Semester at Palantir,” Karp is recruiting students directly out of elite schools—particularly those disillusioned by what he sees as anti-Israel sentiment or campus censorship. These programs offer practical, high-paid experience that bypasses traditional academic pathways. Karp’s vision doesn’t require the elimination of universities—it just renders them unnecessary for the most competitive jobs in tech and intelligence. His model suggests a future in which corporations, not universities, decide who is qualified.

Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, has weaponized the culture war to delegitimize higher education entirely. Kirk’s brand of activism portrays universities as corrupt, anti-American indoctrination centers. Through social media campaigns, donor networks, and student chapters, he has built an infrastructure of resistance against academic institutions. His goal isn’t reform—it’s replacement. Through efforts like the Freedom College Alliance, Kirk is helping to build a parallel educational system rooted in conservative Christian values, classical curricula, and ideological purity. In Kirk’s world, higher education isn’t broken—it’s the enemy.

Together, these six men are shaping a new, fragmented future for American education. Some want to burn it down. Some want to replace it. Some want to privatize it or profit from its collapse. What they share is a conviction that traditional universities no longer serve their intended purpose—and that a new model, rooted in tech, politics, or religion, must take its place.

This isn’t a theoretical debate. Universities are already responding—cutting liberal arts programs, racing to implement AI tools, rebranding themselves as career accelerators, and seeking favor with donors who increasingly resemble these disruptive outsiders. For those who resist, the future may include not just funding cuts, but political investigations, lawsuits, and public smear campaigns.

Higher education faces a stark choice. It can double down on its public mission—defending critical thinking, civic engagement, and social mobility—or it can retreat into elite credentialing and survival mode. What it cannot do is ignore the forces gathering at its gates. These forces are rich, powerful, ideologically driven—and they are not waiting for permission to remake the system.

Parental Pushback: Liberal Resistance to Right-Wing Indoctrination in Oklahoma Schools

In the heart of red-state America, a quiet rebellion is taking shape—led not by liberal politicians or university activists, but by parents of K-12 students. In Oklahoma, a growing number of families are fighting back against what they see as an aggressive ideological campaign by far-right leaders to insert misinformation, religious doctrine, and partisan propaganda into public school classrooms.

This resistance is not coming through marches or lawsuits alone, but through the very legal tools that conservatives once championed: parental rights. Families across the state are opting their children out of controversial new social studies standards that they claim distort U.S. history, undermine democratic institutions, and promote Christian nationalism.

Tulsa parent Lauren Parker is among the voices leading this countercharge. “Now that it’s being codified and now that it’s being brought more into the public eye, the liberals have realized that those are our rights too,” she said.

Her main concern: language recently added to Oklahoma’s social studies curriculum that questions the legitimacy of the 2020 presidential election. The standards require students to "identify discrepancies" in the results, echoing discredited claims advanced by Donald Trump and his supporters. These include references to “sudden halting of ballot-counting,” “sudden batch dumps,” and “security risks of mail-in balloting”—all without factual basis, and all now embedded in state-mandated education.

These standards were quietly introduced by State Superintendent Ryan Walters and passed by the Oklahoma State Board of Education, some of whom now claim they were unaware of the changes at the time of the vote. A legal challenge is pending in Oklahoma County District Court, questioning the procedures used to approve the new standards.

The opt-out movement has been fueled by organizations like We’re Oklahoma Education—WOKE—formed as a progressive response to right-wing parent groups like Moms for Liberty. WOKE provides parents with templated letters to exempt their children from lessons that include election misinformation, Biblical teachings, and content produced by conservative media outlets like PragerU and ideologically driven institutions like Hillsdale College and Turning Point USA.

“If you believe parents know best, then that applies to all parents,” said WOKE director Erica Watkins, a mother of two public school students in Jenks. Watkins, who describes her family as non-religious, said she won’t allow her children to be taught about Christian scripture in a public school classroom.

Walters has defended the addition of Biblical content as a way to provide historical context, arguing that the teachings of Jesus and the Bible shaped the country’s founding values. But parents like Parker see it differently: “This isn’t about history and facts. It’s about pushing their faith on us, and that’s unacceptable. It’s un-American.”

WOKE members are extending their efforts beyond classrooms. Their opt-out letters also reject any “interaction” with Walters and reject the use of content linked to partisan or religious agendas. In some districts, including Stillwater and Tulsa, school officials have indicated a willingness to honor these requests while awaiting clearer guidance on how to implement the new standards.

Ironically, the legal protections that parents are now invoking stem from Republican-led legislation designed to protect children from what conservatives labeled as “woke indoctrination.” Now, the same legal framework is being used to resist the imposition of a narrow, ideologically driven curriculum. As Senate Minority Leader Julia Kirt noted, “If we have separate schools for everybody who has different beliefs, we’re going to have some real challenges.”

That challenge isn't just philosophical. The battle for K-12 curriculum is already shaping higher education outcomes. Students trained in a politically skewed version of American history may enter college unprepared for academic rigor, especially in disciplines like political science, history, and journalism. Public universities in red states could increasingly find themselves in conflict with the ideological pressures shaping their incoming student populations. Faculty, already under scrutiny in places like Florida and Texas, may have to navigate a new wave of cultural and political tension on campus.

Meanwhile, the polarization of public education is reinforcing broader national divides—between those who see schools as places of civic development and democratic inquiry, and those who view them as battlegrounds in a culture war.

The resistance in Oklahoma marks a new chapter in that war. It's a reminder that parental rights are not the sole property of any political party—and that misinformation, no matter how it’s packaged, won’t go unchallenged. The pushback from parents like Parker and Watkins reflects a broader struggle for control over public education, truth, and the future of American democracy.

And in this fight, the line between K-12 and higher education grows thinner every day.

Good Night and Good Luck

Two nights ago, a timely reprise of Good Night, and Good Luck—a play adapted from the 2005 film—was released online for the public to see. In any other moment, it might be viewed as a well-produced historical reflection. But in the context of Donald Trump’s second term in office, the play hits with renewed urgency, serving as both cautionary tale and call to action.

Originally centered on broadcast journalist Edward R. Murrow’s confrontation with Senator Joseph McCarthy during the Red Scare, the story has now taken on fresh resonance. The lines between past and present blur as today's media, academics, and citizens face rising pressures that bear a troubling resemblance to the paranoia and suppression of the 1950s.

Journalism in the Crosshairs—Then and Now

Murrow’s fight was against lies, fear, and demagoguery. So too is the current struggle. But unlike the centralized media of Murrow’s era, today’s information ecosystem is splintered, algorithmically manipulated, and awash in disinformation. What hasn’t changed is the threat posed by leaders who thrive on division, target the press, and dismantle democratic norms.

Trump’s return to power has already brought promises of retribution. Journalists are again labeled “enemies of the people.” Government critics face surveillance and smear campaigns. The line between public service and propaganda is growing thinner by the day.

Universities Under Siege

Higher education is once more a battlefield for truth. In Trump’s second term, the attack on academic freedom is no longer abstract. Several states have already defunded DEI programs, imposed ideological restrictions on curricula, and punished faculty for publicly criticizing the administration.

Like the loyalty oaths of McCarthy’s time, today’s political litmus tests threaten tenure, chill speech, and strip universities of their role as safe havens for independent thought. Student journalists are documenting this unraveling in real time—often with limited institutional support and growing personal risk.

A Digital Murrow Moment?

The online version of Good Night, and Good Luck two days ago is more than an artistic statement; it’s a cultural intervention. The timing—early in Trump’s second term—is a deliberate challenge to journalists, educators, and citizens to recall their responsibilities. The message is clear: silence enables authoritarianism, and truth requires courage.

But the stakes are higher now. The 1950s did not contend with AI-generated misinformation, billionaire-backed disinformation machines, or governors turning public colleges into ideological laboratories. This is a different kind of war—but the tools of resistance remain: reporting, documenting, teaching, organizing.

As we confront the rising tide of fear and repression, we might remember the words of Cassius in Julius Caesar:

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings.”

The revival of Good Night, and Good Luck reminds us that we’ve been here before. And it asks: will we meet the moment again?

Edward R. Murrow once warned that a free press is only as strong as the people willing to defend it. In this reprise, it is not just the journalists who must rise to the challenge—but educators, students, artists, and anyone committed to keeping truth alive.

We urge readers to watch the movie online (the play is unavailable at this point). Let it stir your memory—and your conscience. Then speak out, before the lights go dim again.

Good night, and good luck.

US Higher Education's Move to the Right

In recent years, the political landscape of U.S. higher education has undergone a noticeable shift, with universities, faculty, and academic discourse increasingly moving toward more conservative positions. This transformation, which some see as a response to growing societal polarization, has raised important questions about the future of academic freedom, diversity of thought, and the role of universities in shaping the ideological future of the nation. At its core, however, the rise of right-wing ideology within higher education is beginning to present a larger existential threat to the future of the United States itself—its democratic values, global influence, and even the sustainability of its political system.

The Rise of Conservative Voices on Campus

Historically, U.S. higher education has been perceived as a bastion of liberal thought. The overwhelming majority of faculty members, especially in the humanities and social sciences, lean left politically, and university campuses have often been hotbeds of progressive activism. However, recent trends suggest that conservative voices are gaining traction in academic spaces, and their influence is becoming more apparent.

One of the key indicators of this shift is the increasing number of conservative professors and scholars. While conservative scholars have long been underrepresented in academia, a growing number of universities are seeing new initiatives to diversify intellectual perspectives. Some schools have even created specific programs to attract conservative or libertarian thinkers, with the goal of ensuring a broader ideological representation in faculty and curriculum.

Further fueling this rise in conservative thought on campus is the growing prominence of organizations like Turning Point USA (TPUSA). Founded in 2012 by Charlie Kirk, TPUSA has become one of the leading organizations promoting conservative views among students. The organization’s influence has been a significant force in reshaping the political climate on U.S. campuses, advocating for free markets, limited government, and traditional values, while also fiercely opposing what it sees as left-wing indoctrination in higher education.

Turning Point USA has launched a variety of initiatives to spread conservative ideas, from organizing campus chapters to hosting events and debates aimed at fostering a more balanced discourse on issues like free speech, political correctness, and social justice. TPUSA’s “#DefundTheUniversities” campaign, for example, highlights the organization’s belief that public universities have become ideological echo chambers that perpetuate liberal views while stifling conservative opinions. Through their grassroots activism, TPUSA has successfully mobilized thousands of students across the nation to challenge what they perceive as a political monoculture on campus.

The Political and National Security Implications

The increasing dominance of conservative ideology on campuses isn't just a shift in academic discourse—it also has broader implications for the future of the United States as a democracy and a global superpower. As universities play a critical role in shaping the next generation of leaders, scientists, policymakers, and innovators, a marked shift toward the right could reshape American political identity in ways that undermine core democratic values, international standing, and future prosperity.

As political polarization deepens in the U.S., the growing influence of right-wing thought on college campuses is contributing to a narrowing of intellectual diversity. This ideological homogenization threatens to stifle critical thinking and open dialogue, both of which are essential to the functioning of a healthy democracy. In the face of global challenges—ranging from climate change and economic inequality to international conflicts—the U.S. needs universities to foster broad-minded, evidence-based perspectives, not ideological echo chambers that prioritize partisan loyalty over reasoned debate.

Moreover, as some conservative voices increasingly advocate for a rollback of certain civil rights, a stricter immigration policy, and policies that privilege nationalism over globalism, the move to the right within academia risks undermining the very ideals that have helped maintain the U.S.’s status as a democratic superpower. With more conservative policies influencing everything from the teaching of history to the shaping of economic and environmental policy, the United States risks retreating from its role as a leader in global affairs.

The Role of Natalism: A Cultural and Ideological Shift

At the same time, some conservative ideologues are placing increasing emphasis on the idea of natalism, a policy of encouraging higher birth rates in order to ensure the future of the nation’s population and economic vitality. This has gained traction in right-wing political circles, partly as a reaction to what they perceive as declining birth rates and societal shifts toward individualism over traditional family values.

Natalist arguments often center on the need to preserve a strong national identity and to ensure that future generations of Americans are capable of maintaining the country’s global dominance. Some conservatives argue that America’s declining birth rates, alongside growing concerns over immigration and cultural shifts, pose a threat to its long-term strength as both a democracy and a superpower.

From this perspective, universities may come under increasing pressure to align their policies with a more natalist agenda—encouraging families to have more children and ensuring that the nation’s cultural values are passed on to future generations. In practice, this could lead to an emphasis on traditional family structures and ideologies that prioritize reproduction, national loyalty, and the consolidation of conservative cultural values.

Such a move could further stoke division in the U.S., as liberals, progressives, and more moderate thinkers push back against efforts to center population growth as a national priority. It also raises concerns about women’s rights and reproductive freedoms, areas where the U.S. has seen significant political battles over the past several years. By pushing a natalist agenda, the right may inadvertently push American society toward greater social and cultural conservatism, while alienating the diverse, inclusive values that have long been the hallmark of American democracy.

Anti-Intellectualism and the Decline of History, Humanities, and Social Sciences

One of the most concerning aspects of this ideological shift within American higher education is the rise of anti-intellectualism—a growing sentiment that dismisses intellectual pursuits, scholarly inquiry, and academic rigor, particularly in fields like the humanities, social sciences, and history. At a time when the U.S. needs to foster critical thinking, nuanced debate, and cross-disciplinary solutions to pressing global problems, anti-intellectualism threatens to undermine the very foundation of higher education and democratic citizenship.

Anti-intellectualism in U.S. education often manifests as an outright rejection of academia in favor of populist rhetoric that prioritizes "common sense" over expert knowledge. This attitude is part of a broader cultural movement that discredits scientific consensus, historical analysis, and nuanced social inquiry, particularly in areas related to race, gender, and social justice. In an environment where truth is increasingly seen as subjective and knowledge is often dismissed as ideological, universities face the difficult challenge of defending the very principles that make academic inquiry valuable.

The decline of the humanities and social sciences has been a major casualty of this trend. These disciplines, which include history, sociology, anthropology, philosophy, and literature, are often viewed as elitist or politically left-leaning, and thus subject to attack by conservative critics who prefer a more utilitarian and economically driven education system. Programs in history and the humanities have been increasingly underfunded and undervalued, particularly in state schools, as the demand for vocational programs and STEM degrees (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) has surged. This shift away from critical analysis of human culture, society, and history may have long-term consequences for society’s ability to confront complex global challenges, as these fields are essential to understanding the historical context of political, social, and economic crises.

Furthermore, subjects like critical race theory and gender studies have become lightning rods for conservative attacks on higher education. Critics argue that these fields promote divisive ideologies and undermine national unity, while supporters argue that they offer critical insights into the structures of inequality and power in modern society. The backlash against these disciplines reflects a broader cultural rejection of intellectualism—one that sees scholarship as inherently biased and politically charged, rather than objective and necessary for understanding the world.

This erosion of the humanities and social sciences, alongside a growing disdain for intellectualism, threatens the intellectual foundation of American democracy. Universities, which have traditionally been spaces for critical thought, interdisciplinary exploration, and the fostering of informed citizenship, risk becoming ideological battlegrounds where the pursuit of knowledge is subordinated to political agendas. In the long term, this could result in a generation less capable of engaging in thoughtful, reasoned debate about the nation's most pressing issues, ultimately weakening democratic institutions and the capacity for the U.S. to lead on the global stage.

The Paranoia and Uncritical Support for Police, Mass Incarceration, and Lack of Due Process

Another disturbing trend within the move to the right in higher education is the rising paranoia that underpins much of the conservative political discourse on campus. A growing fear of left-wing influence, social change, and external threats to traditional values has led to a distrust of institutions such as the media, academia, and the government. This paranoia has become a driving force behind conservative student groups, with their rhetoric often centered on an exaggerated fear of cultural and ideological warfare.

This sense of paranoia also extends to issues of law enforcement and criminal justice. Conservatives have increasingly positioned themselves as staunch defenders of the police, often failing to acknowledge the systemic issues of police violence and mass incarceration that disproportionately affect marginalized communities. In many cases, this has led to an uncritical view of the police and the criminal justice system, overlooking the need for reform and the widespread calls for accountability.

The rise of this uncritical approach, paired with growing distrust in institutions of justice, has serious consequences for higher education’s ability to foster meaningful dialogue about these pressing issues. Universities that fail to engage in critical discussions about mass incarceration, police brutality, and the lack of due process risk sending students into the world without the knowledge or tools necessary to address the flaws within the U.S. justice system.

The lack of due process for many accused individuals, particularly in the context of racial and socio-economic inequalities, remains a fundamental issue that is frequently overlooked in right-wing political discourse. Instead of confronting the structural issues in policing and the judicial system, some conservative groups have opted for a rhetoric that places an overwhelming emphasis on law and order, often at the expense of basic civil liberties.

By failing to address the flaws in the system, conservative movements within higher education inadvertently perpetuate a cycle of injustice and inequality, undermining the democratic principles of fairness and accountability.

The Threat to American Democracy and Global Power

In this context, the move to the right within higher education could signal a deeper crisis for the future of American democracy and its place on the global stage. A shift toward conservative ideologies at universities, coupled with efforts to limit academic freedom and increase ideological control over education, could erode the very foundations of democratic governance. The core principles of democracy—such as free speech, the rule of law, and respect for individual rights—rely on open inquiry, the free exchange of ideas, and a commitment to evidence-based reasoning.

If U.S. higher education increasingly becomes a tool for political socialization rather than a space for independent thought, the future of U.S. democracy could be at risk. A populace raised on narrow ideological frameworks—whether left or right—will lack the critical thinking skills necessary for civic engagement, informed voting, and democratic participation. This, in turn, could erode the strength of U.S. institutions and the nation’s ability to adapt to global challenges.

In the context of the U.S.'s status as a global superpower, this ideological shift could also undermine its ability to lead in international diplomacy, science, technology, and economic innovation. The U.S. has traditionally led the world in fostering innovation, research, and academic collaboration. However, as conservative ideologies increasingly dominate American academia, it risks isolating itself from the rest of the world, particularly in areas like climate science, social justice, and global trade. A nation that turns inward and prioritizes conservative ideologies at the expense of international cooperation risks diminishing its own democratic values and its power as a global leader.

The Role of U.S. Higher Education in Mass Surveillance: A Cornerstone of Authoritarianism and Fascism

In the digital age, surveillance has become a pervasive aspect of daily life. It reaches far beyond the government’s watchful eye; it infiltrates our personal spaces, our interactions, and even our educational institutions. In the United States, universities and colleges—typically seen as bastions of free thought and intellectual exploration—have, over the years, quietly embraced practices that align more with authoritarian surveillance than the fostering of academic freedom. The result is an unsettling convergence of education, technology, and control that deserves close scrutiny.

The Rise of Mass Surveillance in U.S. Higher Education

Mass surveillance is not a concept confined solely to government agencies or the private sector. U.S. colleges and universities have increasingly adopted surveillance technologies, often in ways that blur the lines between student safety, security, and governmental overreach. The methods used are diverse: from sophisticated digital monitoring of online activity to the installation of cameras throughout campuses, as well as the tracking of students’ movements and behaviors.

On-Campus Surveillance

Many campuses are equipped with thousands of security cameras, often without students' knowledge of the exact extent of their monitoring. These cameras track students' movements around buildings, dorms, and even outdoor spaces. Security personnel, working alongside private contractors, have access to this footage, creating a network of real-time surveillance. Additionally, some universities have partnered with police departments or government entities to share data from campus surveillance, effectively extending the government’s reach into spaces historically seen as separate from state control.

In some instances, universities have utilized facial recognition technology—a tool that, while growing in popularity among law enforcement and private corporations, is still highly controversial due to concerns about privacy, accuracy, and racial biases. Campuses like the University of California, Berkeley, and George Washington University have implemented or explored the use of facial recognition, drawing criticism from civil rights groups who argue that such technologies contribute to surveillance regimes that disproportionately target marginalized communities.

Digital Surveillance: Monitoring Online Activity

In the realm of digital surveillance, universities have also emerged as key players. The rapid digitization of academic spaces has made it easier for educational institutions to monitor and record students' online activities, including emails, internet browsing habits, and even participation in online discussions. These tools, ostensibly designed to protect students from online threats or cheating, can also be used to track the political views or social connections of students and faculty members.

University systems that monitor students' academic behavior are often integrated with third-party services that collect vast amounts of data. Companies like Google, which provide software for research and communication, have been instrumental in creating environments where personal data can be easily harvested and stored. As a result, students and faculty members are under constant scrutiny, even if they are unaware of the depth of data being collected on them.

Off-Campus Surveillance and Law Enforcement

While much of the surveillance happens on university grounds, the cooperation between educational institutions and law enforcement extends far beyond campus boundaries. Many universities share information with federal agencies like the FBI or local police departments, creating a synergy of surveillance that goes beyond the walls of academia. This collaboration is often justified as part of maintaining national security or preventing crimes, but it carries profound implications for privacy and civil liberties.

After the 9/11 attacks, for example, universities in the U.S. were encouraged to collaborate with federal intelligence agencies under the auspices of the USA PATRIOT Act and other anti-terrorism measures. This led to the surveillance of students’ political activities, associations, and even participation in protests. While much of this occurred covertly, the ramifications were far-reaching, particularly for marginalized groups who found themselves disproportionately surveilled due to their activism.

Surveillance of International Students: A First Step Toward Widespread Control

One of the most chilling aspects of surveillance on U.S. campuses is the specific targeting of international students. Historically, international students have been a vulnerable demographic in the context of surveillance and control. This began in earnest post-9/11, when the U.S. government imposed stricter regulations on foreign students, requiring universities to report on students' status, academic performance, and even their physical locations.

The Student and Exchange Visitor Information System (SEVIS) was established to track international students in real-time, linking student data to immigration and law enforcement agencies. While this system was presented as a means of ensuring national security, it effectively treated international students as suspects, placing them under heightened scrutiny. Universities, in turn, became instruments of surveillance, forced to comply with federal mandates to report any changes in a student's enrollment status, academic performance, or even the duration of their stay in the U.S.

For international students, this surveillance has been particularly invasive, as their movements—whether related to academic matters or personal lives—are constantly monitored by both their institutions and government entities. The stigma of being under the microscope contributes to a sense of alienation and powerlessness. It also encourages conformity, making it difficult for international students to freely express political or ideological dissent for fear of jeopardizing their academic status or immigration status.

The Threat of TPUSA’s Professor Watchlist

Another troubling element of surveillance within higher education is the growing trend of surveillance outside official university systems. Conservative student groups, particularly Turning Point USA (TPUSA), have taken it upon themselves to monitor and track the activities of professors whose political views they deem “liberal” or “left-wing.” One of TPUSA’s most controversial initiatives has been the creation of the Professor Watchlist, which compiles and publicly names professors accused of engaging in “liberal indoctrination” or promoting “liberal agendas.”

While TPUSA claims the Professor Watchlist is a tool to expose bias in academia, its purpose appears to be less about fostering academic debate and more about intimidating faculty members and curbing academic freedom. Professors listed on the watchlist are often subjected to harassment, threats, and, in some cases, professional repercussions, as conservative groups or donors seek to pressure universities into disciplining or firing faculty. The Watchlist represents a form of extrajudicial surveillance—non-governmental in origin but with highly political aims.

The real danger of such initiatives lies in their ability to undermine the independence of higher education. It is not just the professors listed who are impacted, but the entire academic community. Faculty members may begin to self-censor, avoiding controversial or politically sensitive topics for fear of being targeted, and students may find their ability to engage in free inquiry increasingly stifled.

The Professor Watchlist serves as a reminder that surveillance of academic institutions is not just the work of government agencies or private corporations; it is also deeply politicized, with various ideological groups using the tools of surveillance to exert control over education and the intellectual freedoms that it should represent.

Little Resistance: The Silence of Academia

Despite these troubling developments, resistance within academia has been minimal. Universities, which are supposed to serve as protectors of free speech, intellectual diversity, and civil liberties, have largely failed to challenge the growing surveillance apparatus both on and off their campuses. This silence is not without reason—many academic institutions have willingly participated in these surveillance efforts, citing concerns over campus security, student safety, and the desire to combat terrorism.

Additionally, many students and faculty members have become desensitized to surveillance. A generation raised in the digital age, where privacy is increasingly an afterthought and constant connectivity is the norm, may not fully grasp the implications of mass surveillance. Those who do speak out often find themselves at odds with institutional priorities or are silenced by threats of punishment, surveillance of their own activities, or other forms of retaliation.

The fear of retribution has also led to a chilling effect on dissent. Students who voice political opinions, especially those that challenge the status quo, may find themselves under increased scrutiny. This environment creates a culture where conformity reigns, and open discourse is stifled, not necessarily by overt repression, but by the omnipresent surveillance that discourages any behavior that might be deemed "out of line."

Mass Surveillance as a Tool of Authoritarianism and Fascism

The convergence of surveillance practices on college campuses with broader state interests should not be dismissed as incidental. Throughout history, mass surveillance has been a hallmark of authoritarian and fascist regimes. From Stalinist Russia to Nazi Germany, the power to monitor and control individuals through surveillance has been a tool used by oppressive governments to stifle dissent, control behavior, and consolidate power.

In a fascist regime, surveillance serves not just as a means of security, but as a tool of indoctrination and social control. The existence of surveillance constantly reminds individuals that they are being watched, creating a pervasive sense of fear and self-censorship. The same mechanism is increasingly visible in today’s U.S. higher education system, where students and faculty members may unconsciously internalize the need to comply with institutional norms, which are often shaped by external pressures from governmental and corporate entities.

The Implications for Democracy

The implications of this trend are far-reaching. When educational institutions no longer stand as a safe space for the free exchange of ideas, when they themselves become complicit in the surveillance of their own communities, it erodes the very foundation of democratic society. Free thought and intellectual exploration—the core tenets of higher education—cannot thrive in an atmosphere of constant monitoring and fear.

Mass surveillance on campuses also reinforces systemic inequalities. As surveillance technologies disproportionately affect marginalized groups—whether due to racial profiling, political dissent, or nationality—it contributes to a broader structure of control that undermines the principles of equal treatment and justice. In a society where the surveillance state extends into universities, it’s not hard to imagine a future where academic freedom becomes a thing of the past, with institutions serving instead as instruments of political and corporate control.

Conclusion

The role of U.S. higher education in the rise of mass surveillance—both on and off-campus—raises serious concerns about privacy, freedom, and the future of democratic values. Universities, which once stood as symbols of intellectual autonomy, are now complicit in the surveillance mechanisms that have come to define authoritarian and fascist regimes. The lack of widespread resistance from within academia only exacerbates the situation, highlighting the need for a renewed commitment to the values of free thought and privacy.

If we are to preserve the integrity of higher education as a space for critical thinking and dissent, we must confront the creeping normalization of surveillance in these institutions. It’s time for students, faculty, and administrators to take a stand, not just against the overt surveillance on campus, but against the creeping authoritarianism that it represents in the broader context of our society. The fight for academic freedom and privacy is not just a fight for the rights of students and educators—it’s a fight for the soul of democracy itself.