A House Divided...

“A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Abraham Lincoln’s immortal words—delivered at a time of profound crisis—speak volumes to the United States of 2025. We are again a nation splintering at its foundations. Not only is the Trump administration’s 2025 spending bill a cruel redistribution of wealth and opportunity, but it is also a calculated assault on national cohesion. By pitting group against group, and widening already-existing chasms, this legislation weakens the country from within.

It worsens every major divide in American life:

Young and Old
This bill undermines the future of young people by defunding public education, freezing Pell Grant expansion, and dismantling student loan protections. Meanwhile, it offers little to nothing to the aging population—cutting health and housing programs while privatizing services they depend on. Instead of investing in generational cooperation, the bill fuels resentment: older voters blamed for electing regressive leaders, younger generations accused of entitlement. Both groups suffer—but separately.

Rich and Poor
At its core, the bill is a brutal act of class warfare. It strips federal protections and benefits from working-class families while expanding tax loopholes for the wealthy and funding corporate subsidies. The working poor lose access to healthcare, clean air and water, education, and social safety nets. The rich get richer—and more powerful. The wealth gap, already obscene, becomes insurmountable. Billionaires buy colleges, elections, and media narratives while everyday Americans lose homes, degrees, and dignity.

Men and Women
By slashing childcare funding, defunding reproductive healthcare, and threatening Title IX protections, the spending bill deepens the economic and social vulnerabilities of women, especially single mothers and women of color. Meanwhile, men, too, are left in precarious labor markets with fewer public supports and more pressure to conform to toxic models of masculinity peddled by reactionary forces. The bill ignores gender inequality while encouraging cultural backlashes, deepening mistrust between the sexes.

White, Black, and Brown
The racial fault lines of American life are carved even deeper by this legislation. Black and Brown communities, long targets of systemic disinvestment, will face cuts in education, public health, housing, and environmental protections. Latinx families lose protections for immigrant students and face heightened surveillance. Native American communities see treaty responsibilities ignored yet again. White working-class families, while nominally courted by nationalist rhetoric, are left materially worse off—offered culture war instead of clean water and decent jobs.

The Trump budget does not unite Americans; it divides them more efficiently. It weaponizes identity and scarcity—turning natural allies into enemies and stoking civil conflict not with guns but with spreadsheets.

This is not accidental. In a 2022 interview, we warned about the growing possibility of colleges being drawn into “both sides of a Second U.S. Civil War between Christian Fundamentalists and neoliberals.” In such a conflict, we said, “working families will take the largest hit.” That warning now feels prophetic. Colleges are already caught in the ideological crossfire, serving either the nationalist right or the neoliberal consulting class—while student debt and academic labor exploitation grow on both sides.

This bill isn't just a financial document. It's a manifesto for a new Gilded Age, where working people are left to fight one another over crumbs while billionaires hoard the pie.

Higher education, which once promised upward mobility and civic understanding, has been transformed into a marketplace of credentials, surveillance, and extraction. The 2025 Trump bill accelerates this, cutting off pathways to opportunity while protecting the interests of robocolleges, shady lenders, and digital monopolies.

The house is burning. And if we do not find a way to build solidarity across these divisions—young and old, rich and poor, Black and white, men and women—we will fall, not as tribes, but as a nation.

Sources:

• Interview with Dahn Shaulis, College Viability (2022)

• Congressional Budget Office, Trump 2025 Budget Analysis

• National Student Legal Defense Network

• American Council on Education, Pell Grant and Loan Data

• U.S. Department of Education: Title IX and regulatory changes

• Clean Energy for America Coalition

• U.S. Commission on Civil Rights: Education and Tribal Funding Reports

• Higher Education Inquirer investigations on robocolleges, edtech profiteering, and student debt

The Law of Least Effort: Why Billionaires—and Elite Universities—Prefer Stale Ideas Over Bold Thinking

In the modern mythology of Silicon Valley and the Ivy League, billionaires and elite universities are imagined as bold visionaries, pushing humanity forward with daring innovation and world-changing ideas. But scratch the surface of this mythology and what you’ll often find instead is a kind of intellectual laziness—a preference for warmed-over ideas from mid-century science fiction, recycled neoliberal dogma, and technological determinism masquerading as insight.

This is the Law of Least Effort, not in physical labor, but in thought: a cognitive shortcut that prioritizes ideological safety over intellectual risk. Rather than genuinely exploring new paradigms or investing in critical inquiry, the ultra-rich and the institutions that train them tend to return to narrow, well-worn frameworks that preserve their worldview and their power.

Billionaire Boredom Disguised as Innovation

When Elon Musk buys into the fantasy of colonizing Mars, or Peter Thiel pines for libertarian seasteads and eternal life, these are not bold, new ideas—they’re pale echoes of Golden Age science fiction from the 1950s and 60s, regurgitated without reflection. These concepts were radical when Asimov or Heinlein explored them in fiction, but today they are escapist crutches for wealthy men who can’t (or won’t) confront the terrestrial problems their own wealth exacerbates.

The same goes for the obsession with AI, blockchain, or “effective altruism.” These are often less about solving real social issues and more about technocratic avoidance: sidestepping messy problems like poverty, racism, and labor exploitation by fantasizing that code or capital will save us. Billionaires don’t fund utopian social science—they fund Singularity University.

Elite Universities: Safe Havens for Tired Ideas

Elite universities, supposedly the engines of radical thought, are frequently the opposite. These institutions, particularly those with massive endowments like Harvard, Yale, and Stanford, are often intellectually risk-averse. Their financial security has made them more conservative, not less.

Rather than promoting critical or emergent perspectives—particularly those from marginalized communities or interdisciplinary thought—these schools cling to narrow forms of prestige knowledge: economics departments that treat market forces as natural law, international relations programs built around Cold War paradigms, or law schools that churn out corporate lawyers while ignoring structural injustice.

Even when elite universities gesture toward innovation, it's often market-driven or Silicon Valley-aligned. Interdisciplinary centers or “impact hubs” are structured to attract corporate partnerships, not challenge the foundations of economic and social power. Faculty who question capitalism, settler colonialism, or the ideology of meritocracy may find themselves pushed to the margins—if not altogether silenced by “donor sensitivities.”

An Educated Class That’s Intellectually Sedated

The elite graduates of these universities—many of whom become the consultants, bankers, tech executives, and policy shapers of tomorrow—are often not trained to be critical thinkers but intellectually domesticated agents of the status quo. Their version of education is a credentialing process, not a transformative one.

They read the canon, cite the correct theorists, nod to diversity in DEI statements, and pursue change only when it doesn't disrupt existing structures. This is intellectual effort only in the performative sense. The goal is fluency in the language of power, not the courage to question it.

The Cost of Cognitive Complacency

What’s lost in this system is incalculable: bold ideas, radical futures, deep ethical inquiry. Instead of investing in indigenous knowledge systems, speculative Black futurisms, transformative pedagogy, or critiques of extractive capitalism, we get another think tank report on “human capital optimization.”

This isn't just boring—it's dangerous. The world is facing intersecting crises: ecological collapse, rising authoritarianism, mass inequality. These cannot be solved with recycled ideas from libertarian science fiction or econometrics models from the Reagan era. They require intellectual courage, democratic imagination, and a willingness to fundamentally reimagine our institutions.

But that kind of thinking doesn’t come from those clinging to the Law of Least Effort. It comes from those excluded from the halls of elite power, working at the margins, asking the uncomfortable questions.

New Worlds Require New Thinking

The problem with the billionaires and the elite universities that shape them isn’t just that they hoard wealth. It’s that they hoard thought. They preserve a narrow intellectual landscape where old ideas are recycled, and challenging paradigms are dismissed as utopian or impractical.

If society wants to move forward, we need to stop mistaking wealth for wisdom, and prestige for insight. It’s time to break the mental monopoly of the elites and invest in thinkers, communities, and institutions that aren’t afraid to do the hard intellectual work—the kind that doesn’t just repeat the past but dares to invent the future. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steven Mintz’s Exit from Inside Higher Ed: A Thoughtful Retreat or Quiet Surrender?

After more than a decade of weekly columns on the shifting terrain of academia, Steven Mintz—professor, public intellectual, and longtime contributor to Inside Higher Ed—has stepped away from his platform, “Higher Ed Gamma.” In his farewell post, Mintz characterizes the move as a philosophical shift, not a retreat. But for those engaged in the daily battles to defend the public mission of higher education, his withdrawal from one of the few widely read, accessible venues for higher ed critique feels like something else: a concession at a moment when visibility and resistance are needed more than ever.

Mintz says he is no longer as interested in “reacting to headlines,” preferring instead to explore the quieter realms of cultural inquiry—grappling with themes like grief, historical consciousness, and the inner lives of students through essays on Bob Dylan, T. S. Eliot, and opera. His transition to Substack, where he will continue to write freely and thoughtfully, signals an intentional shift toward what he calls “a different rhythm.”

But what happens when thought leaders retreat from public forums just as the foundations of higher education are being dismantled?

Mintz’s departure from Inside Higher Ed comes amid a historic and escalating assault on higher education’s core values: the elimination of DEI programs, political meddling in public institutions, massive layoffs, closures of small colleges, and a crisis of labor precarity among adjuncts and graduate students. It is a time of culture war, economic shock, and administrative capture—one that demands vigilance, confrontation, and critical dialogue. The silence of well-respected voices like Mintz, even when artfully composed, leaves a vacuum at precisely the wrong moment.

To be sure, Mintz has always occupied an ambiguous space in the higher ed discourse: never quite a radical, but often reflective and open to challenging assumptions. He offered important insights about student success, the role of the humanities, and institutional reform. But his columns were also marked by a cautious optimism that sometimes failed to account for the structural brutality many faculty, staff, and students experience daily—from exploitative adjunct labor to debt peonage and corporate takeovers of the academy.

In retreating from Inside Higher Ed—a public-facing, open-access platform—and into Substack, a more insular, self-selecting venue, Mintz risks preaching to a smaller choir. His musings on literature, aesthetics, and ambiguity, while intellectually rich, come at the cost of direct engagement with the high-stakes political and economic struggles now engulfing academia. In a word: the move feels safe.

But there is no safety for the contingent instructor evicted from their job mid-semester. No retreat for students saddled with unpayable debt. No intellectual sanctuary for librarians, counselors, and staff facing layoffs. The reality of higher ed today demands more than reflective essays on opera and poetry; it demands solidarity, analysis, and resistance.

To be fair, Mintz is not abandoning the field entirely. He promises to continue writing “sometimes about higher ed, sometimes about what it means to be human.” That is a noble aim. But as the privatization and defunding of higher education accelerate, and as faculty governance erodes in favor of corporate management, the fight to preserve the very possibility of the humanities and liberal inquiry depends on public intellectuals remaining in the arena, not retreating to side chambers of culture.

Mintz closes his farewell with an affirmation that “education—real education—is still worth defending.” We agree. But the defense requires more than aesthetic reflection. It requires naming enemies, calling out injustice, and staying embedded in the public struggles that define this moment in American education.

For those of us who continue the work of muckraking, exposing inequality, and sounding alarms about the corporatization of the university, Mintz’s exit from Inside Higher Ed is less a turning of the page than a missed opportunity to stand firm. The page is burning, and too many are still waiting for the writers to put out the fire.

More Guns, Less Butter: How America’s Budget Choices Are Starving Higher Education

In the halls of Washington, a familiar Cold War-era phrase has returned with renewed urgency: “guns versus butter.” But in 2025, the metaphor isn't academic—it’s reality. With the Trump administration's proposed FY2026 budget increasing defense spending to an unprecedented $1.01 trillion, educators, students, and policy advocates are warning that the nation’s commitment to higher education is being eroded at its foundation.

The proposed 13.4 percent increase in military spending includes massive investments in nuclear modernization, missile defense systems, and cyberwarfare infrastructure. Meanwhile, funding for federal student aid, university research, and college readiness programs remains stagnant or faces outright reductions. Pell Grants are flat-funded, leaving them far behind tuition inflation. Federal Work-Study allocations drop by 8 percent, limiting opportunities for low-income students. The Public Service Loan Forgiveness program is on the chopping block entirely.

“The message is loud and clear,” said Dr. Nina Delgado, a policy analyst at the Center for Postsecondary Equity. “We can afford another missile silo, but not math tutoring for first-generation college students.”

From regional public colleges to minority-serving institutions, campuses already suffering from years of austerity face even deeper crises. With state and federal support shrinking, tuition continues its unrelenting climb—fueling debt and pushing higher education out of reach for millions. Over 100 colleges—many of them rural or under-resourced—are on the brink of closure. Faculty layoffs and hiring freezes are becoming the norm, especially in the humanities. Community colleges, a key engine for workforce training, are operating at a deficit in 27 states.

Supporters of the military expansion argue that defense is a prerequisite for national security. But critics counter that America’s long-term strength lies in knowledge, innovation, and human capital—assets developed not in weapons labs, but in classrooms. “You can’t bomb your way to a competitive economy,” said Jason Rahim, a University of Vermont economics professor. “We’re starving the very institutions that fuel research, educate workers, and foster democratic thinking.”

As the U.S. crosses the $1 trillion defense spending threshold, the nation’s crumbling lecture halls and shuttered library doors tell a different story—one where the greatest threats to national security may not be foreign adversaries, but domestic neglect. Until Congress reinvests in the public good—particularly in equitable, accessible higher education—America may find itself armed to the teeth but intellectually disarmed.

University of Virginia President is Latest Casualty of Trump's War Against Higher Education

In a political environment increasingly hostile to independent academic thought, University of Virginia President James E. Ryan has become the latest victim of a broader right-wing campaign to reshape American higher education. On June 26, 2025, President Ryan announced he would step down in 2026 amid escalating political pressure from Governor Glenn Youngkin and conservative donors aligned with former President Donald Trump’s ideological movement.

Ryan’s departure signals a new phase in what many scholars, faculty advocates, and civil liberties organizations describe as a calculated “war on higher education.” This campaign—led by Trump-aligned political figures and well-funded conservative think tanks—seeks to silence dissent, reshape curricula, and exert direct control over public universities once considered bastions of academic freedom.

From Jefferson's Dream to a Political Battleground

Founded by Thomas Jefferson as an Enlightenment-era experiment in self-governance and inquiry, the University of Virginia (UVA) has long held symbolic and practical importance in debates over the role of public higher education. But in the Trump era—and its aftermath—UVA has become a target for ideologues determined to transform universities into instruments of state-aligned conservatism.

Under Governor Youngkin, a UVA alumnus with close ties to Trump’s network of political operatives and donors, the Board of Visitors has seen a rightward shift. Youngkin has appointed multiple trustees who are openly critical of so-called “woke ideology,” DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) programs, and what they describe as the “leftist capture” of the academy.

Behind the scenes, donors aligned with conservative power brokers—some of whom also back organizations like the Manhattan Institute and the Heritage Foundation—have pushed for greater oversight of faculty hiring, curriculum design, and student programming. These efforts have been coupled with demands for ideological “balance,” often interpreted as enforced conservatism within departments historically committed to independent research and peer-reviewed scholarship.

The Pressure Mounts

President Ryan, who took office in 2018, initially enjoyed broad support. A legal scholar and former dean of Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, he worked to increase access for low-income students, build partnerships across ideological lines, and maintain UVA’s national reputation as a top-tier research institution.

But in the polarized landscape of post-2020 politics, Ryan found himself increasingly isolated. His support for DEI initiatives and resistance to political interference in hiring practices drew fire from right-wing media and activists who accused him of promoting “Marxism” and “anti-American” values. Conservative lawmakers in Virginia began threatening funding, while pressure from the Board of Visitors grew more intense and public.

By spring 2025, insiders say, it became clear that Ryan was being pushed toward the door. His announcement on June 26 came just months after similar resignations or removals of university leaders in Florida, Texas, and North Carolina—all states where Republican governors and legislatures have tightened their grip on higher education institutions.

Part of a Broader Campaign

Ryan’s resignation is not an isolated incident. It is the latest in a national trend of politically motivated purges of university leadership. In Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis oversaw the forced transformation of New College into a conservative stronghold, appointing culture warriors to the board and replacing leadership. In Texas, universities have seen crackdowns on DEI offices, faculty tenure protections, and academic freedom under the guise of “protecting free speech.”

Former President Trump and his surrogates have repeatedly framed colleges and universities as enemies of the people, accusing them of indoctrinating youth and undermining national unity. Trump-aligned media outlets have amplified attacks on liberal arts programs, gender studies departments, and student activism, framing higher education as a battleground in the culture war.

Meanwhile, dark money groups such as the American Council of Trustees and Alumni (ACTA) and the Federalist Society continue to shape governance reforms that reduce faculty power and increase donor and political influence. Some universities have faced legislation requiring loyalty pledges or mandating ideological reporting, tactics reminiscent of Cold War-era McCarthyism.

The Stakes for the Future

The forced resignation of James Ryan represents more than the loss of a single university president—it is a bellwether of a changing higher education landscape. The public university, once envisioned as a bulwark of democratic inquiry and upward mobility, is being redefined by those who see knowledge not as a public good but as a political threat.

For faculty, staff, and students at UVA and beyond, the message is chilling: conform or be replaced. The right’s war on higher education shows no signs of slowing. With the 2026 midterm elections on the horizon and the Trump faction consolidating control over multiple states, more university leaders may soon face the same fate as President Ryan.

In this struggle, what is at stake is not only academic freedom, but the future of American democracy.

DeSantis-Led Coalition Launches New Accreditation Body: Ideology, Outcomes, and a Shift in Higher Ed Oversight

In a bold move that could upend the structure of higher education oversight in the United States, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis announced the creation of the Commission for Public Higher Education (CPHE)—a multi-state effort to challenge what he and his allies call the “activist-controlled accreditation monopoly.” The CPHE includes six Republican-led states: Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Texas.

Positioned as a new accrediting entity with a focus on “student outcomes, transparency, and ideological independence,” the CPHE represents a growing backlash against traditional regional accreditors like the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges (SACSCOC). According to DeSantis and CPHE proponents, these longstanding organizations have prioritized diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and other perceived progressive mandates over academic quality, workforce readiness, and measurable outcomes.

The Political Context

Governor DeSantis has made higher education a central battleground in his broader cultural agenda, particularly since his administration launched efforts to eliminate DEI offices, weaken tenure protections, and reshape public university boards. The CPHE fits neatly into that larger campaign—what DeSantis calls “reclaiming higher education.”

“We’re breaking the stranglehold of the accreditation cartel,” DeSantis said in Boca Raton. “Florida is leading the way in building an education system based on results, not ideology.”

The effort is being coordinated with support from public university systems across the South, including the University of South Carolina and the University Systems of Georgia and Texas. University of South Carolina Board Chair Thad Westbrook praised the new accreditor’s “outcomes-based” framework, stating it will “benefit students while making accreditation more efficient.”

A Threat to the Federal Gatekeeping System?

Accreditation in the U.S. plays a crucial gatekeeping role: it determines whether institutions are eligible to receive federal student aid, including Pell Grants and federally backed student loans. For CPHE to have any real impact, it must eventually be recognized by the U.S. Department of Education.

That recognition is far from guaranteed. The process requires years of documentation, reviews, and approvals—and federal education officials may view CPHE’s openly political roots as problematic. Critics argue the consortium is more about ideological conformity than educational quality.

Risks and Ramifications

While the CPHE claims to offer a “rigorous” and “transparent” alternative to traditional accreditation, skeptics—including some education policy analysts and faculty advocates—warn that the real motive is political control over higher education institutions. By tying accreditation to a specific ideological framework, opponents fear that academic freedom, faculty governance, and research independence could be undermined.

There are also practical concerns. Should CPHE institutions lose recognition by federal agencies or face lawsuits over inconsistent standards, students could suffer the consequences—especially those relying on financial aid or seeking degrees with recognized accreditation.

Moreover, CPHE's narrow focus on "student outcomes" often means post-graduate earnings or job placement, metrics that oversimplify complex educational goals and ignore broader social and civic benefits of higher education.

A Test of Federalism in Higher Ed

This development marks an escalation in the state-federal tug-of-war over higher education. With the U.S. Supreme Court increasingly supportive of state autonomy, and with Congress gridlocked, states like Florida are testing how far they can go in reshaping public education under a conservative vision.

The CPHE may become a flashpoint in the national debate over what public universities are for—and who gets to decide. Whether this initiative results in meaningful improvement or becomes another chapter in the politicization of higher education remains to be seen.

The Supreme Court's Medicaid Ruling and the Manufactured War on Reproductive Health: A Response to Liberty University's “Freedom Center”

On June 26, 2025, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down a 6-3 decision in Medina v. Planned Parenthood South Atlantic, allowing South Carolina to remove Planned Parenthood from its list of Medicaid providers. While the decision raises serious legal and ethical concerns, it is the celebratory response from Liberty University's Standing for Freedom Center that warrants deeper scrutiny. Their framing of this decision as a moral and policy victory is not only misleading—it is a dangerous piece of religious nationalism masquerading as public policy commentary.

The Freedom Center’s narrative—couched in biblical justification, political triumphalism, and ideological fervor—ignores the very real, lived consequences for working-class women and college students across South Carolina and beyond. It presents a sanitized vision of “Christian governance” while masking the cruelty of stripping access to basic healthcare from the most vulnerable populations. This is not “standing for freedom”—this is the strategic consolidation of patriarchal, classist, and theocratic power.

A Direct Attack on Low-Income Women and Families

Let’s be clear: this ruling does not merely "redirect funding." It restricts access to cancer screenings, contraception, STI testing, and other non-abortion services provided by Planned Parenthood clinics—especially to Medicaid recipients, many of whom are low-income women, students, and working mothers. In South Carolina, two Planned Parenthood clinics served thousands of such patients. The claim that these women can simply go elsewhere is glib and unsubstantiated.

The Freedom Center boasts that over 140 “federally qualified community centers and pregnancy centers” exist to fill the gap. But these centers are notoriously inconsistent in the quality and availability of care, especially for reproductive health. Many so-called “pregnancy crisis centers” provide no medical care at all and are known to mislead and shame patients. Access to meaningful, comprehensive reproductive care is not about the number of buildings—it’s about the quality, scope, and inclusiveness of services. Pretending otherwise is disingenuous at best.

Medicaid Recipients Silenced

At the heart of Medina is a deeply troubling precedent: individuals who depend on Medicaid can no longer sue the state if their access to providers is unilaterally restricted. The decision hinges on the argument that the Medicaid Act doesn’t explicitly allow private citizens to sue—a reversal of decades of precedent that protected patient choice.

This decision silences not just providers but patients. It strips legal recourse from low-income Americans and hands unchecked discretion to governors like South Carolina’s Henry McMaster, who has made no secret of his desire to eliminate abortion access altogether. If these actions are now unchallengeable in court, states can act with near impunity—denying healthcare access in the name of ideology.

Religious Rhetoric Masquerading as Law

The Freedom Center frames this decision in stark theological terms. According to their article, the ruling is not just a legal victory—it is a “Christian” one. They cite Scripture, claim to act in the name of Jesus, and assert that governments are “tasked by God to restrain evil.” This is a vision of governance not rooted in the Constitution or the Bill of Rights, but in a theocratic reinterpretation of American democracy.

This is especially chilling when one considers that Liberty University is not merely a religious institution but a political machine—one with deep ties to the Republican Party and far-right policy networks. Through this lens, Medina is not about “protecting life,” but about using state power to enforce a specific religious worldview, regardless of the collateral damage to women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and poor families.

The Broader Agenda: Criminalizing Reproductive Autonomy

Since the fall of Roe v. Wade, we’ve seen a steady escalation of attacks not just on abortion rights, but on reproductive autonomy more broadly—including access to contraception, gender-affirming care, and maternal health services. The Medina decision emboldens state-level campaigns to further criminalize, defund, and stigmatize reproductive healthcare. Liberty University’s Freedom Center doesn’t shy away from this broader agenda—they celebrate it.

They claim that Planned Parenthood “profits off abortion” and “distributes dangerous gender-transition drugs to minors”—a set of dog-whistle phrases designed to provoke fear and reinforce transphobic, misogynistic tropes. These claims lack evidence, but they serve a strategic function: demonizing reproductive healthcare providers and setting the stage for more sweeping restrictions and persecutions.

The Real Cost: Educated Underclass and the Erosion of Public Health

This ruling and the rhetoric around it disproportionately affect working-class women, students, and Black and brown communities. As colleges increasingly serve nontraditional, low-income, and first-generation students, many of whom rely on Medicaid, these policies create new barriers to health, education, and economic mobility.

We must ask: who benefits from the creation of an underclass without access to healthcare or legal recourse? Who profits from forcing women to carry unwanted pregnancies while cutting funding for childcare, education, and public health? The answer isn’t God—it’s a political and economic elite that thrives on disempowerment, all while hiding behind the cross.

Orwellian Freedom

The Supreme Court’s Medina decision is not a victory for “freedom” but a blow to democratic rights and healthcare access. Liberty University’s Freedom Center celebrates it not as a legal analysis, but as a religious crusade. Their euphemistic language about “protecting life” and “comprehensive care” distracts from the real consequences: more suffering, fewer options, and deepening inequality.

The Higher Education Inquirer stands in opposition to this dystopian vision. We support the rights of students, workers, and families to access comprehensive, evidence-based healthcare—free from political and religious coercion. This fight is not just about abortion—it is about the right to bodily autonomy, the right to sue the government when it harms you, and the right to live free from imposed theological rule.

Does higher ed still make sense for students, financially? (Bryan Alexander)

[Editor's note: This article first appeared at BryanAlexander.org.]

Is a college degree still worth it?

The radio program/podcast Marketplace hosted me as a guest last week to speak to the question.  You can listen to it* or read my notes below, or both.  I have one reflection at the end of this post building on one interview question.

One caveat or clarification before I get hate mail: the focus of the show was entirely on higher education’s economics.  We didn’t discuss the non-financial functions of post-secondary schooling because that’s not what the show (called “Marketplace”) is about, nor did we talk about justifying academic study for reasons of personal development, family formation, the public good, etc.  The conversation was devoted strictly to the economic proposition.

The hosts, Kimberly Adams and Reema Khrais, began by asking if higher ed still made financial sense.  Yes, I answered, for a good number of people – but not everyone.  Much depends on your degree and your institution’s reputation.  And I hammered home the problem of some college but no degree.  The hosts asked if that value proposition was declining.  My response: the perception of that value is dropping.  Here I emphasized the reality, and the specter, of student debt, along with anxieties about AI and politics.  Then I added my hypothesis that the “college for all” consensus is breaking up.

Next the hosts asked me what changing (declining) attitudes about higher education mean for campuses.  I responded by outlining the many problems, centered around the financial pressures many schools are under.  I noted Trump’s damages then cited my peak higher education model.  Marketplace asked me to explain the appeal of alternatives to college (the skilled trades, certificates, boot camps, etc), which I did, and then we turned to automation, which I broke up into AI vs robotics, before noting gender differences.

Back to college for all: which narrative succeeds it?  I didn’t have a good, single answer right away.  We touched on a resurgence of vocational technology, then I sang the praises of liberal education.  We also talked about the changing value of different degrees – is the BA the new high school diploma? Is a master’s degree still a good idea?  I cited the move to reduce degree demands from certain fields, as well as the decline of the humanities, the crisis of computer science, and the growing importance of allied health.

After my part ended, Adams and Khrais pondered the role of higher education as a culture war battlefield.  Different populations might respond in varied ways – perhaps adults are more into the culture war issues, and maybe women (already the majority of students) are at greater risk of automation.

So what follows the end of college for all?

If the American consensus that K-12 should prepare every student for college breaks down, if we no longer have a rough agreement that the more post-secondary experience people get, the better, the next phase seems to be… mixed.  Perhaps we’re entering an intermediary phase before a new settlement becomes clear.

One component seems to be a resurgence in the skilled trades, requiring either apprenticeship, a short community college course of study, or on the job training.  Demand is still solid, at least until robotics become reliable and cost-effective in these fields, which doesn’t seem to be happening in at least the short term.  This needs preparation in K-12, and we’re already seeing the most prominent voices calling for a return to secondary school trades training.  There’s a retro dimension to this which might appeal to older folks. (I’ve experienced this in conversations with Boomers and my fellow Gen Xers, as people reminisce about shop class and home ec.)

A second piece of the puzzle would be businesses and the public sector expanding their education functions.  There is already an ecosystem of corporate campuses, online training, chief learning officers, and more; that could simply grow as employers seek to wean employees away from college.

A third might be a greater focus on skills across the board. Employers demand certain skills to a higher degree of clarity, perhaps including measurements for soft skills.  K-12 schools better articulate student skill achievement, possibly through microcredentials and/or expanded (portfolio) certification. Higher education expands its use of prior learning assessment for adult learners and transfer students, while also following or paralleling K-12 in more clearly identifying skills within the curriculum and through outcomes.

A fourth would be greater politicization of higher education.  If America pulls back from college for all, college for some arrives and the question of who gets to go to campus becomes a culture war battlefield.  Already a solid majority of students are women, so we might expect gender politics to intensify, with Republicans and men’s rights activists increasingly calling on male teenagers to skip college while young women view university as an even more appropriate stage of their lives.  Academics might buck 2025’s trends and more clearly proclaim the progressive aims they see postsecondary education fulfilling, joined by progressive politicians and cultural figures.  Popular culture might echo this, with movies/TV shows/songs/bestsellers depicting the academy as either a grim ideological factory turning students into fiery liberals or as a safe place for the flowering of justice and identity.

Connecting these elements makes me recall and imagine stories.  I can envision two teenagers, male and female, talking through their expectations of college. One sees it as mandatory “pink collar” preparation while the other dreads it for that reason.  The former was tracked into academic classes while the latter appreciated maker space time and field trips to work sites. Or we might follow a young man as he enters woodworking and succeeds in that field for years, feeling himself supported in his masculinity and also avoiding student debt, until he decides to return to school after health problems limit his professional abilities.  Perhaps one business sets up a campus and an apprenticeship system which it codes politically, such as claiming a focus on merit and not DEI, on manly virtues and traditional culture. In contrast another firm does the same but without any political coding, instead carefully anchoring everything in measured and certified skill development.

Over all of these options looms the specter of AI, and here the picture is more muddy.  Do “pink collar” jobs persist as alternatives to the experience of chatbots, or do we automate those functions?  Does post-secondary education become mandatory for jobs handling AIs, which I’ve been calling “AI wranglers”?  If automation depresses the labor force, do we come to see college as a gamble on scoring a rare, well paying job?

I’ll stop here.  My thanks to Marketplace for the kind interview on a vital topic.

*My audio quality isn’t the best because I fumbled the recording. Sigh.

The Missing 377,000: Gaza’s Grim Arithmetic, the Mirage of Humanitarian Aid—and the Crackdown on Campus Dissent

Original reporting sourced from 21st Century Wire, with data from Dr. Yaakov Garb’s 2025 report published on the Harvard Dataverse

A groundbreaking new report authored by Dr. Yaakov Garb, Professor at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, and hosted on the Harvard Dataverse, reveals a brutal arithmetic behind Israel’s military campaign in Gaza. According to Garb’s spatial and demographic analysis, the number of Palestinians likely killed or missing in the Gaza Strip now exceeds 300,000. That figure—derived from Israel’s own internal data—calls into question the official death tolls promoted in mainstream media and reveals a staggering discrepancy: 377,000 people are unaccounted for.

These numbers expose more than just a humanitarian crisis. They reveal a calculated architecture of control, cloaked in the language of aid but functioning as an extension of military occupation. Yet as these truths emerge through academic and investigative channels, another battle is being waged—on college campuses across the U.S. and Europe—where students who dare to speak out are increasingly being targeted for suppression.

Gaza’s Disappeared

The report shows that prior to the 2023-25 siege, Gaza’s population was approximately 2.227 million. Israeli Defense Forces estimate that the three main populated enclaves now contain only 1.85 million people:

• Gaza City: 1 million

• Mawasi: 0.5 million

• Central Gaza: 0.35 million

That leaves 377,000 Gazans whose whereabouts are unknown. While some may be displaced or trapped in inaccessible areas, the report strongly implies that the missing are dead—many likely buried under rubble, dismembered beyond recognition, or perished from starvation and disease in isolation.

This number dwarfs commonly cited death tolls and challenges the sanitized statistics reported in international media. It is not the product of speculation, but of direct analysis of Israeli military data. What Garb calls a “demographic horror story” is also a legal and moral reckoning.

Humanitarian Aid as Military Strategy

The second key finding of the report is that Israel’s so-called humanitarian aid compounds—constructed with U.S. support and operated in part by private American security firms—function not as relief centers, but as militarized zones that restrict access, surveil civilians, and enable violence.

These compounds are located in Israeli-declared “buffer zones” where civilians risk death for attempting entry. Their design funnels desperate Palestinians through chokepoints devoid of shade, water, or toilets—what the report identifies as a “fatal funnel” meant to control crowds, not serve them.

These installations stand in violation of the Fourth Geneva Convention, which requires occupying powers to ensure food and medical supplies reach the civilian population, or allow independent humanitarian groups to do so. Instead, Israel has obstructed neutral aid groups and replaced them with a system that uses the language of humanitarianism to justify a regime of control and dispossession.

Repression at Home: Silencing Student Dissent

While Garb’s report meticulously documents atrocities abroad, a parallel strategy of repression has emerged within the borders of liberal democracies: the systematic persecution of student protestors who speak out against Israeli actions in Gaza.

On university campuses across the United States, Europe, and beyond, students demanding an end to the siege and accountability for war crimes are being surveilled, suspended, expelled, doxxed, and in some cases arrested. Faculty members who support these students have also faced retaliation, including denial of tenure, contract non-renewal, and public vilification.

Major donors and political actors have increasingly intervened in university affairs, pressuring administrations to equate protest with antisemitism, despite the fact that many of these student groups include Jewish activists and operate under clear human rights frameworks. What is being punished is not hate speech—but dissent.

University leaders, once guardians of free inquiry, now act as enforcers of ideological conformity, chilling debate and flattening moral nuance in the name of institutional stability. The persecution of protestors is not just a betrayal of academic freedom—it is a continuation of the same campaign of silence that allows mass death abroad to proceed without scrutiny.

The Disappeared, Here and There

In Gaza, the disappeared number in the hundreds of thousands. In the West, those who try to name this horror are disappeared in different ways: stripped of platforms, denied scholarships, pushed out of academic spaces. These twin silences—one enforced through military might, the other through institutional discipline—serve the same purpose: to protect power from accountability.

Dr. Garb’s report concludes with a searing indictment: “If an attacker (occupier) cannot adequately and neutrally feed a starving population in the wake of a disaster it is ongoingly creating, it is obligated to allow other humanitarian agencies to do so.” This obligation has not been met. Instead, it has been replaced by the architecture of impunity—built from rubble in Gaza, and maintained through repression in the halls of higher education.

If we fail to confront this architecture—if we allow it to be draped in the language of aid and the robes of civility—then we are complicit in its violence.

---

Primary Source:
Garb, Yaakov. 2025. The Israeli/American/GHF ‘aid distribution’ compounds in Gaza: Dataset and initial analysis of location, context, and internal structure. Harvard Dataverse. https://doi.org/10.7910/DVN/QB75LB

With acknowledgments to 21st Century Wire and the journalists and students who refuse to be silent.

China Select Committee Launches AI Campaign with Legislation to Block CCP-Linked AI from U.S. Government Use

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

June 25, 2025

Contact:

Alyssa Pettus

Brian Benko

WASHINGTON, D.C. — As the House Select Committee on the China opens its landmark hearing, “Authoritarians and Algorithms: Why U.S. AI Must Lead,” Committee leaders are unveiling new bipartisan legislation to confront the CCP’s growing exploitation of artificial intelligence.

Chairman John Moolenaar (R-MI) and Ranking Member Raja Krishnamoorthi (D-IL) today announced the House introduction of the “No Adversarial AI Act”— bipartisan legislation also being championed in the Senate by Senators Rick Scott (R-FL) and Gary Peters (D-MI). The bill would prohibit U.S. executive agencies from acquiring or using artificial intelligence developed by companies tied to foreign adversaries like the Chinese Communist Party. The House legislation is cosponsored by a bipartisan group of Select Committee members, including Reps. Ritchie Torres (D-NY) and Darin LaHood (R-IL). 

 

“We are in a new Cold War—and AI is the strategic technology at the center,” said Chairman Moolenaar. “The CCP doesn’t innovate—it steals, scales, and subverts. From IP theft and chip smuggling to embedding AI in surveillance and military platforms, the Chinese Communist Party is racing to weaponize this technology. We must draw a clear line: U.S. government systems cannot be powered by tools built to serve authoritarian interests.”

What the No Adversarial AI Act Does:

• Creates a public list of AI systems developed by foreign adversaries, maintained and updated by the Federal Acquisition Security Council.
• Prohibits executive agencies from acquiring or using adversary-developed AI—except in narrow cases such as research, counterterrorism, or mission-critical needs.
• Establishes a delisting process for companies that can demonstrate they are free from foreign adversary control or influence.

 

“Artificial intelligence controlled by foreign adversaries poses a direct threat to our national security, our data, and our government operations,” said Ranking Member Raja Krishnamoorthi. “We cannot allow hostile regimes to embed their code in our most sensitive systems. This bipartisan legislation will create a clear firewall between foreign adversary AI and the U.S. government, protecting our institutions and the American people. Chinese, Russian, and other adversary AI systems simply do not belong on government devices, and certainly shouldn’t be entrusted with government data.”

Senator Rick Scott said, “The Communist Chinese regime will use any means necessary to spy, steal, and undermine the United States, and as AI technology advances, we must do more to protect our national security and stop adversarial regimes from using technology against us. With clear evidence that China can have access to U.S. user data on AI systems, it’s absolutely insane for our own federal agencies to be using these dangerous platforms and subject our government to Beijing’s control. Our No Adversarial AI Act will stop this direct threat to our national security and keep the American government’s sensitive data out of enemy hands.”

The legislation marks a major action in the Select Committee’s AI campaign, which aims to secure U.S. AI supply chains, enforce robust export controls, and ensure American innovation does not fuel authoritarian surveillance or military systems abroad.

 

Today’s hearing and legislation continues the series of new proposals and messaging the Committee will roll out this summer to confront the CCP’s exploitation of U.S. innovation and prevent American technology from fueling Beijing’s AI ambitions.

COLLEGE MANIA! America’s Legal High for Families

In America, the pursuit of a college degree has become more than just a step toward a stable future—it’s a culturally sanctioned high, a ritual of aspiration, and a national obsession. “College mania,” as we call it, doesn’t just grip students. It draws in entire families, especially parents who never had the opportunity to attend college themselves. For them, college is a dream they couldn’t fulfill—so they pass it on to their children like a sacred torch.

In today’s America, college mania ranks alongside the thrill of legal marijuana, the rush of sports betting, or the intense puzzle-solving of escape rooms. But while those highs are seen as distractions or vices, the college high is viewed as noble. It’s the American Dream repackaged for the 21st century, and it’s addictive.

The Parents’ Fix

Many parents, especially from working-class or immigrant backgrounds, have internalized the belief that college is the only legitimate path to a better life. Even if they never attended themselves—or perhaps because they didn’t—they want their children to have “more.” More options. More money. More dignity. More safety.

For them, college is the ultimate symbol of success. It’s a way out of generational struggle, an antidote to low-wage work and economic precarity. These parents attend college fairs they don’t understand, cry during campus tours, and invest their savings—and sometimes retirement funds—into test prep, tutoring, and private admissions consultants.

And why wouldn’t they? The entire system—from high school counselors to state and federal policymakers—tells them that college is not just a good idea, but a moral imperative. Not sending your child to college becomes a form of parental failure.

From Hope to Hysteria

College mania often starts early. Children are told in elementary school that their GPA will “matter someday.” By middle school, they’re crafting résumés. High school becomes a war zone of advanced placement courses, volunteer hours, and résumé-building internships. College becomes the grand finale—and parents are cast as both financiers and emotional support staff for the show.

The process has become so intense that some parents—often those who didn’t go to college themselves—feel powerless, swept up in a world of rankings, deadlines, jargon, and predatory loan offers. Many turn to social media for answers, which only fuels the pressure with glossy images of Ivy League acceptance letters and first-day dorm selfies.

The high hits when the letter of acceptance comes. The name-brand college. The merit scholarship. The status symbol. But what comes next isn’t always a soft landing.

The Come-Down

Just like legal highs, the rush of college mania fades fast. Students often find themselves isolated, overwhelmed, or stuck in majors that don’t translate into real employment. Debt piles up. Mental health declines. Parents—who only wanted the best—find themselves watching their children struggle with uncertain futures despite the promise they were sold.

And in the background, an entire industry profits: textbook publishers, loan servicers, admissions consultants, and real estate developers building luxury student housing. Parents and students carry the emotional and financial burden. Institutions rarely do.

The Illusion of Escape

College is marketed as an escape room for the working class—a solvable puzzle with a promised reward at the end. But unlike escape rooms, there are no clues, no guaranteed exit, and often no prize. The thrill comes from trying. The letdown comes from realizing that the door might not open at all.

And yet, families return to the game, generation after generation. College remains the one culturally approved addiction—an expensive, emotionally loaded, legally protected gamble on the future.

College Mania: The American Fixation

College mania isn’t just about education—it’s about class mobility, identity, parental love, and social status. It’s a dopamine rush wrapped in moral virtue, sanctioned by school boards and senators alike. For parents who never went to college, the dream lives on not in themselves, but in their kids. The dream is still alive—but the system surrounding it is broken, bloated, and often brutal.

Until we can rethink what education means—and who it's really for—college mania will continue to dominate American family life. And like all highs, it will leave too many people coming down hard.

—
The Higher Education Inquirer documents the myths, markets, and mechanisms of higher education in the United States.

Jeffrey Sachs EXPOSES Israel–U.S.–Iran War Plot: Shocking Claims Uncovered (Times Now World)

Renowned economist Jeffrey Sachs has launched a scathing critique of U.S. foreign policy in the Middle East, placing the blame squarely on Washington’s alliance with Israel’s far-right leadership. Speaking at the Antalya Diplomacy Forum, Sachs claimed that American interference—encouraged by Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu—has devastated the region. He cited covert operations like the CIA’s Timber Sycamore as catalysts behind the Syrian civil war and accused Israel of pushing for armed conflict with Iran after having allegedly promoted six previous wars.

Cybersecurity Threats, Fascism, and Higher Education

American higher education stands at a dangerous crossroads—caught between the encroachment of authoritarian surveillance at home and the very real cybersecurity threats from adversarial states abroad. On one side, we see the growth of data collection and domestic monitoring that risks silencing dissent and undermining academic freedom. On the other, sophisticated cyberattacks from nation-states like Russia, China, Iran, Israel, and North Korea present significant threats to intellectual property, national security, and the safety of digital infrastructure on campus.

This double-edged sword raises urgent questions about the role of higher education in a time of rising fascism, geopolitical instability, and digital vulnerability.

In recent years, colleges and universities have become sites of intensified digital monitoring. Student protesters, faculty activists, and visiting scholars find themselves increasingly under surveillance by both state agencies and private contractors. Under the guise of “safety” and “cybersecurity,” dissident voices—especially those speaking out on issues like Palestine, racial justice, climate collapse, and labor rights—are monitored, flagged, and at times disciplined.

Campus security partnerships with local police and federal agencies like the FBI, DHS, and ICE have created a new surveillance architecture that chills free speech and suppresses organizing. Social media is mined. Emails are monitored. Student groups that once flourished in the open now meet with the paranoia of being watched or labeled as threats. This chilling effect is especially acute for international students and scholars from the Global South, who face disproportionate scrutiny, travel restrictions, and visa denials. These policies don’t just protect against threats—they enforce a top-down political orthodoxy. In some cases, administrators have even turned over data to law enforcement in response to political pressure, lawsuits, or fear of reputational harm. The dream of the university as a bastion of free inquiry is fading in the fog of surveillance capitalism and political fear.

Particularly concerning is the growing role of powerful tech firms like Palantir Technologies in higher education's security infrastructure. Originally developed with backing from the CIA’s venture capital arm, In-Q-Tel, Palantir’s software is designed for mass data aggregation, predictive policing, and counterinsurgency-style surveillance. While marketed as tools for campus safety and data management, Palantir’s platforms can also be used to monitor student behavior, track political activism, and identify so-called “threats” that align more with ideological dissent than legitimate security concerns. The company has existing contracts with numerous universities and research institutions, embedding itself in the heart of higher ed’s decision-making and information systems with little public accountability.

At the same time, the threat from foreign actors is not imaginary. Russian disinformation campaigns have targeted U.S. universities, attempting to sow discord through social media and exploit political divisions on campus. Iranian state-sponsored hackers have stolen research from American institutions, targeting fields like nuclear science, engineering, and public health. Chinese entities have been accused of both cyberespionage and aggressive recruitment of U.S.-trained researchers through programs like the Thousand Talents Plan, sparking controversy and xenophobic backlash. While some fears have been overstated or politically weaponized, evidence shows that intellectual property theft and cyber intrusion are persistent issues.

Meanwhile, Israel’s cyber industry—including firms founded by former Israeli intelligence operatives—has sold spyware and surveillance tools to governments and corporations worldwide. NSO Group’s Pegasus spyware, for instance, has reportedly been used to target academics, journalists, and activists. American campuses are not exempt from these tools’ reach—particularly when it comes to Palestine advocacy and international collaborations.

The paradox is clear: The same institutions that should be defending democratic ideals and global collaboration are being co-opted into both authoritarian domestic surveillance and militarized cyberdefense. There is an alarming convergence of corporate cybersecurity contractors, intelligence agencies, and university bureaucracies—often with little transparency or oversight. Federal funding tied to defense and homeland security has made some universities complicit in this surveillance regime. Others have turned to private cybersecurity vendors like Palantir, which quietly build intrusive systems that blur the lines between threat detection and political policing. In this environment, real cybersecurity is essential—but it must not become a tool for repression.

What is needed is a dual approach that protects against foreign and criminal cyberthreats without succumbing to the authoritarian logic of mass surveillance. Universities must protect academic freedom by enforcing strict policies against political monitoring and reaffirming the rights of students and faculty to speak, organize, and dissent. They must ensure transparency and oversight over cybersecurity operations and external partnerships, particularly those involving military and intelligence-linked firms. They must support digital security for activists and marginalized groups, not just administrative systems. And they must strengthen internal cyberdefenses through open-source tools, decentralized networks, and ethical cybersecurity education—not just corporate solutions that prioritize control over community.

We cannot allow the logic of the Cold War to be reborn in the form of digital McCarthyism. Higher education must be a firewall against fascism—not a pipeline for it. As we confront 21st-century cyberconflicts and political extremism, universities must ask themselves: Are we defending truth and inquiry—or enabling the very systems that undermine them? The answer will shape the future of higher education—and democracy itself.

Trump, Hegseth, and the Bombing of Iran: Taking the Bait at America’s Peril

The sudden arrival of the U.S. Air Force's E-4B “Doomsday Plane” at Joint Base Andrews this week has reignited fears of impending military escalation in the Middle East. As speculation swirls online and among defense analysts, President Donald Trump and his Fox News consigliere Pete Hegseth appear to be inching dangerously close to embracing a war plan that plays into the hands of both their domestic political ambitions and the geopolitical strategies of their adversaries.

The E-4B, also known as “Nightwatch,” is no ordinary aircraft. Built to survive a nuclear attack, maintain satellite command and control in the event of total ground disruption, and oversee the execution of emergency war orders, its presence near Washington, D.C. signals something far more than routine military procedure. The use of a rare callsign—"ORDER01"—instead of the standard "ORDER6" only stokes the sense that we are on the brink of another catastrophic foreign policy decision.

This show of force comes amid rising tensions with Iran, exacerbated by ongoing Israeli aggression and increased Iranian defiance. But rather than de-escalate or seek diplomatic offramps, Trump and Hegseth—cheered on by neoconservative holdovers and MAGA populists—seem eager to provoke or retaliate with military might.

Political Theater with Global Consequences

The specter of bombing Iran isn’t just about foreign policy—it’s political theater. In the lead-up to a contentious election cycle, Trump is once again playing the wartime president, wielding fear and nationalism to consolidate support. For Hegseth, a veteran turned right-wing media figure, the promise of patriotic glory and "restoring American strength" makes for good ratings and even better branding. Both men are using the possibility of war as a campaign tool—recklessly gambling with global stability.

Yet the U.S. has nothing to gain from an expanded conflict with Iran. If anything, such an act plays directly into the strategic interests of hardliners in Tehran and Tel Aviv alike. For Iran’s theocratic regime, American aggression would bolster internal solidarity and justify further authoritarian crackdowns. For Israel’s leadership, it would secure unwavering U.S. allegiance in their own campaign of regional dominance. For both, American bombs would mean the end of diplomatic ambiguity.

Higher Education and the Fog of War

War is also profitable—for defense contractors, media networks, and privatized universities that specialize in churning out online degrees in homeland security and intelligence studies. Institutions like the Liberty University, whose ads routinely appear alongside war reporting, are the educational arm of the war economy, training an underpaid, precariously employed labor force in service of endless conflict. These for-profit institutions have long aligned themselves with militarism, offering “education benefits” that function as recruitment tools for the armed forces.

Meanwhile, real intellectual inquiry is under siege. Faculty who question U.S. foreign policy—particularly in the Middle East—face surveillance, harassment, and cancellation. Dissenting students are monitored. Grants for critical research dry up, while think tanks funded by the arms industry flourish. Universities become staging grounds for ideological conformity, not bastions of free thought.

Taking the Bait

Trump and Hegseth are being lured into a trap—one that benefits the very global elites they claim to oppose. Escalating with Iran serves the military-industrial complex, shores up Israeli hardliners, and consolidates state power under the guise of national emergency. At home, it means more surveillance, more censorship, and more austerity for working families already reeling from inflation and housing insecurity.

In the end, the cost of war will not be borne by Trump or Hegseth. It will be borne by low-income soldiers, the people of Iran, and the students who forgo education for military service. It will be paid for by cutting healthcare, housing, and higher education. And it will hollow out American democracy, all while propping up the illusion of strength.

This is not leadership. This is entrapment. And it’s time we said so—loudly, before the next bombs drop.

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.