|
|
|
|
|
|
|
#adjunct #AI #BDR #collegemania #collegemeltdown #edugrift #medugrift #nonviolence #QOL #rehumanization #robocollege #veritas
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Historian and best-selling author Rutger Bregman joins Jon Stewart to unpack his latest book, “Moral Ambition,” which is a call to action for people, especially those with education and privilege, to devote their talent and resources to careers and causes that make the world a better place. He describes how the political left has often made the mistake of placing moral purity above political relevance, and what they can learn from conservatives about building small movements into a larger, results-oriented coalition. Bregman also addresses the problem of what he calls our “inverse welfare society,” in which most high-paying, high-status jobs are inessential, and how his organization, The School for Moral Ambition, aims to reverse that structure by helping people quit their corporate jobs and transition into careers of positive impact.
On the evening of May 7, 2025, the ongoing student protest movement at Columbia University reached a new flashpoint, as dozens of pro-Palestinian demonstrators occupied Butler Library, prompting the university to summon the New York Police Department. According to multiple reports, approximately 76 individuals were removed in handcuffs after a tense standoff, raising fresh concerns about civil liberties, campus governance, and escalating political pressure from the federal government.
The occupation, which unfolded during Columbia’s reading week, was part of a wave of student-led actions protesting Israel's military campaign in Gaza and what activists call institutional complicity through academic and financial ties. Video footage and eyewitness accounts show masked individuals entering Butler Library, hanging banners, and clashing with public safety officers. One banner reportedly displayed a map of Israel with the words “There is only one state,” a message critics argue denies Israel’s right to exist.
While Columbia officials have condemned the action as disruptive and dangerous, the heavy-handed response—and the invocation of police force on an Ivy League campus—has reignited longstanding debates about academic freedom, student dissent, and the criminalization of protest.
“We had no choice but to ask for the assistance of the NYPD,” said Acting President Claire Shipman in a video statement. “These actions... posed a serious risk to our students and campus safety.”
Shipman reported that two public safety officers were injured as demonstrators surged through the building, and one individual was later removed by stretcher. In a post-incident response, the university implemented tighter access controls, requiring ID checks at campus entrances and suspending alumni and guest access.
Meanwhile, city and state officials swiftly voiced their support for the crackdown. Mayor Eric Adams stated that lawlessness would not be tolerated and urged non-students to leave the campus. Governor Kathy Hochul echoed that sentiment, praising law enforcement for “keeping students safe.” Senator Marco Rubio went further, announcing a federal review of the visa status of any non-citizen participants.
But from the protestors’ perspective, the events told a different story. A message posted by students inside the library alleged that public safety officers “choked and beaten us,” and that protestors were refusing to show IDs or leave under “militarized arrest.” The group rejected characterizations of violence and said they were exercising their rights to peaceful protest.
The administration’s response is occurring under heightened scrutiny from the Trump administration, which has threatened to withhold federal funding from universities perceived as allowing “antisemitic or anti-American” protests. Columbia, once seen as a stronghold of progressive activism, has become a political battleground in the broader culture war over speech, protest, and Zionism.
A controversial university guideline—announced earlier this year under pressure from the Trump White House—requires masked protestors to present identification upon request. Civil liberties groups argue the rule infringes on students’ rights and makes peaceful protest vulnerable to legal and administrative reprisal.
As students prepare for final exams, Columbia remains a campus under siege—caught between its own history of student activism and an increasingly authoritarian political climate. What happened inside Butler Library was more than a student protest gone awry; it was the collision of global politics, domestic surveillance, and higher education’s complicity in both.
What’s next for the Columbia protest movement remains uncertain, but the crackdown at Butler is unlikely to be its final chapter. Rather, it may serve as a blueprint—either for suppression or resistance—for how universities across the country respond to the growing tension between conscience and compliance.
The U.S. Department of Education, under the renewed influence of the Trump Administration and its deep-pocketed friends in the for-profit and debt collection industries, has issued a chilling reminder of just how little it cares for the tens of millions of Americans drowning in student debt. Cloaked in bureaucratic language and peppered with sanctimonious calls for “shared responsibility,” the Department’s latest notice is, in truth, a battle cry in its war to privatize higher education, scapegoat the vulnerable, and enrich corporate cronies at the expense of working families.
Let’s call this what it is: a renewed assault on the student debtor class—the adjunct professors, the first-generation college students, the single mothers, the underemployed graduates who were sold a dream of economic mobility and handed a lifetime of debt servitude.
According to the Department, only 38% of borrowers are current on their loans, and nearly a quarter of all loans are in default or severe delinquency. Rather than treating this figure as evidence of systemic failure—ballooning tuition, predatory lending, lack of loan forgiveness—the Department responds by resuming draconian collection measures like the Treasury Offset Program and Administrative Wage Garnishment. This means that the government will begin seizing tax refunds and garnishing wages of those already pushed to the economic brink.
Worse, the Department has the audacity to wrap this cruelty in the rhetoric of “support” and “outreach.” Borrowers are told that they’ll be reminded of their “repayment obligations” as if they have simply forgotten—not that they’ve been buried under compound interest, stagnating wages, and fraudulent institutions that peddled worthless degrees. The supposed “enhancements” to income-driven repayment plans are little more than PR spin, insufficient to address the tidal wave of suffering inflicted by a broken system.
Then comes the most insulting part: the Department deflects blame onto institutions while simultaneously pressuring them to track down and guilt-trip former students. Colleges are urged to contact former enrollees and remind them they’re obligated to pay. Why? Not out of concern for their welfare—but because high cohort default rates (CDRs) might threaten those institutions' eligibility for federal aid money.
So we see the real game here: this isn’t about protecting students. It’s about protecting the federal loan program as a revenue engine and shielding the reputations of colleges—especially the for-profit diploma mills that flourished under prior Republican administrations. These institutions can continue hiking tuition and churning out underprepared graduates because the government, under Trump and his Department of Education appointees, would rather collect on unpayable loans than hold schools accountable.
Even more dystopian is the Department’s plan to publicly release “loan non-payment rates by institution.” While transparency sounds virtuous, this move will undoubtedly be weaponized—not to shut down abusive schools but to further stigmatize borrowers, especially those from marginalized backgrounds who attended underfunded schools with few resources.
Nowhere in this document is there any meaningful discussion of debt relief, student protections, or reining in college costs. Nowhere is there a reckoning with the fact that federal student aid has been transformed from a tool of opportunity into a tool of coercion. Instead, the Trump Administration signals it is open for business—the business of extracting wealth from the poor and funneling it into the private sector.
This notice is more than a policy update. It is a declaration of values. And those values are clear: Profit over people. Compliance over compassion. Privatization over public good.
The Higher Education Inquirer stands with the debtors. We see through the lies of “fiscal responsibility” and “integrity.” And we will continue to expose every cynical maneuver designed to crush the educated underclass in the name of neoliberal orthodoxy.
To student borrowers: You are not alone. You are not a failure. You are a victim of a system that was never built to serve you.
Here's the actual post from the US Department of Education, Federal Student Aid, dated May 5, 2025:
The United States faces critical challenges related to the federal student loan programs. According to estimates from the U.S. Department of Education (Department), only 38% of Direct Loan and Department-held Federal Family Education Loan Program borrowers are in repayment and current on their student loans. We also estimate that almost 25% of the entire portfolio is either in default or a late stage of delinquency.
Given these challenges, the Department is taking immediate steps to engage student borrowers and support the repayment of their federal student loans. As announced in an April 21, 2025, press release, today, the Department will resume collections on its defaulted federal student loan portfolio with the restart the Treasury Offset Program and, later this summer, Administrative Wage Garnishment. The Department has also initiated an outreach campaign to remind all borrowers of their repayment obligations and provide resources and support to assist them in selecting the best repayment plan for their circumstances. The Department has also launched an enhanced income-driven repayment (IDR) plan process, simplifying how borrowers enroll in IDR plans and eliminating the need for many borrowers to manually recertify their income each year.
Maintaining the integrity of the Title IV, Higher Education Act of 1965 (HEA) loan programs has always been a shared responsibility among student borrowers, the Department, and participating institutions. Although borrowers have the primary responsibility for repaying their student loans, institutions play a key role in the Department’s ongoing efforts to improve loan repayment outcomes, especially as the cost of college set solely by institutions has continued to skyrocket. Institutions are responsible for providing clear and accurate information about repayment to borrowers through entrance and exit counseling, and colleges and universities are responsible for disclosing annual tuition and fees and the net price to students and their families on the costs of a postsecondary education. The financial aid community has demonstrated its commitment to providing direct advice and counsel to students regarding their borrowing, but institutions must refocus and expand these efforts as pandemic flexibilities come to an end.
Under section 435 of the HEA, institutions are required to keep their cohort default rates (CDR) low and will lose eligibility for federal student assistance, including Pell Grants and federal student loans, if their CDR exceeds 40% for a single year or 30% for three consecutive years. The Department reminds institutions that the repayment pause on student loans ended in October 2023, and CDRs published in 2026 will include borrowers who entered repayment in 2023 and defaulted in 2023, 2024, or 2025. The Department further reminds institutions that those borrowers whose delinquency or default status was reset in September 2024 could enter technical default status / be delinquent on their loans for more than 270 days beginning in June and default this summer. As such, we strongly urge all institutions to begin proactive and sustained outreach to former students who are delinquent or in default on their loans to ensure that such institutions will not face high CDRs next year and lose access to federal student aid.
Given the urgent need to ensure that more student borrowers enter repayment and stay current on their loans, the Secretary urges each participating institution to provide the following information to all borrowers who ceased to be enrolled at the institution since January 1, 2020, and for whom they have contact information:
Remind the borrower that he or she is obligated to repay any federal student loans that have not been repaid and are not in deferment or forbearance;
Suggest that the borrower review information on StudentAid.gov about repayment options; and
Request that the borrower log into StudentAid.gov using their StudentAid.gov username and password to update their profile with current contact information and ensure that their loans are in good standing.
The Department urges that this outreach be performed no later than June 30, 2025. We do not stipulate how institutions reach out to borrowers, nor the specific information provided, as long as it covers the three categories described above.
We also encourage institutions to focus their initial outreach on students who are delinquent on one or more of their loans in order to prevent defaults. We will provide additional information in the future to assist schools with identifying and communicating with these borrowers.
The Department is committed to overseeing the federal student loan programs with fairness and integrity for students, institutions, and taxpayers. To that end, the Department believes that greater transparency is needed regarding institutional success in counseling borrowers and helping them get into good standing on their loans.
The Department maintains data on the repayment status of federal student loan borrowers and in the past has provided information in the College Scorecard about the status of each institution’s borrowers at several intervals after they enter repayment. The Department plans to use this data to calculate rates of nonpayment by institution and will publish this information on the Federal Student Aid Data Center later this month. The Department will provide more information about this publication process soon.
Thank you for your continued efforts to maintain the integrity of the Title IV, HEA
loan programs. The Department values its institutional partners and
looks forward to continued collaboration to place borrowers on the path
to sustainable repayment of their loans.
In a stunning development that has sent ripples through the world of higher education, University of Michigan President Santa J. Ono announced he will step down this summer to take the helm at the University of Florida. The announcement comes just seven months after he signed a lucrative contract extension at U-M—one that brought his salary to $1.3 million per year and was among the most generous in the nation.
Ono’s exit will mark the shortest presidential tenure in University of Michigan history—just two and a half years. And it’s happening at a moment of profound political and institutional tension, with many in Ann Arbor voicing frustration at what they perceive as the university's muted resistance to a suite of controversial measures emanating from the Trump administration.
When Santa Ono arrived in Ann Arbor in late 2022, he brought with him a sterling academic pedigree and a reputation as a charismatic, student-focused leader. His hiring was seen as a stabilizing move after years of controversy surrounding his predecessor.
But beneath the surface, Ono’s relationship with the university community frayed. Faculty members and students alike cite his increasing absence from public discourse in 2024, particularly as the federal government—under a resurgent Trump administration—moved to slash research funding, roll back diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) programs, and scrutinize university partnerships, including U-M’s involvement with The PhD Project, which aims to diversify business faculty.
“He’s been more or less invisible particularly this year,” said Faculty Senate Chair Derek Peterson. “What we need is a fighter, not a conformer.”
Ono’s move to the University of Florida has sparked speculation about his motivations. On paper, Michigan is more prestigious, enjoys greater autonomy thanks to a unique governance structure, and has a massive $19.2 billion endowment. Florida, by contrast, is under the thumb of a politically active governor and a centralized board that has exerted pressure on universities to conform to ideological mandates.
Yet the financial allure may have been too great to ignore: reports suggest Florida’s presidential compensation could total $3 million annually—more than double Ono’s current pay.
Brendan Cantwell, a professor of higher education policy at Michigan State University, noted the irony: “He’s leaving a more prestigious, more autonomous institution. That says a lot about the pressures he faced.”
For those familiar with the political climate in Florida, Ono’s move to the University of Florida is far from surprising. Over the past few years, Florida has become a hotbed for right-wing political maneuvering in higher education, with Governor Ron DeSantis spearheading efforts to reshape universities in line with his conservative agenda.
From banning certain books to defunding DEI programs and trying to control academic curriculum, DeSantis has made it clear that higher education in Florida is now a battleground for ideological warfare. His administration has launched aggressive campaigns against what he describes as “woke” politics in academia, citing the need to root out “liberal indoctrination” and promote “freedom” from progressive influences.
Florida’s approach to higher education has included an unprecedented wave of budget cuts to diversity programs, particularly those aimed at supporting historically underrepresented students. The state’s universities are now grappling with the loss of funding for programs designed to increase access for Black, Latino, and Indigenous students. DeSantis has also pushed for "anti-woke" laws that bar universities from offering certain courses or diversity-related initiatives. This is not only affecting the curriculum, but also the very way in which faculty and staff are hired and evaluated.
In 2023, the University of Florida eliminated many of its DEI programs under pressure from the state. The state’s Board of Governors is now actively involved in scrutinizing university curriculums, and its influence extends even to hiring practices, where faculty members are increasingly expected to align with a more conservative view of American history and culture. These moves have drawn ire from academics nationwide, who argue that Florida’s political leadership is attempting to stifle intellectual freedom and academic independence.
Moreover, Florida’s universities face a severe erosion of academic freedom, as DeSantis has sought to impose strict guidelines on speech and research. This includes revising what can and cannot be taught in classrooms and restricting discussions around race, gender, and political identity. The state's newly imposed curriculum laws have made it more difficult for universities to engage in meaningful discourse about topics such as climate change, systemic racism, and gender equality.
For Ono, stepping into this highly charged, politicized environment will represent a dramatic shift from his more moderate, research-focused tenure at Michigan. His leadership will likely be tested not just by university-level challenges but also by the state's political apparatus, which has shown a willingness to intervene in nearly every facet of higher education.
Ono’s departure leaves U-M with significant challenges. The Board of Regents announced that he will remain in Ann Arbor until an interim president is named—a process that may take weeks. But finding a long-term leader capable of navigating the rapidly shifting higher education landscape could take much longer.
The next president will have to address:
Federal Research Cuts: The loss of federal contracts—particularly from agencies like the National Institutes of Health—has cost Michigan and its peer institutions hundreds of millions of dollars. A $15 million Social Security study was among the casualties. U-M is using endowment funds to plug gaps, but that is not a sustainable strategy.
DEI Backlash and Retrenchment: The university recently shuttered two DEI offices and scaled back programming, citing political and legal risks. While Ono promised to bolster financial aid and mental health support, many faculty and students felt betrayed by the move.
Campus Unrest and Free Speech: Protests over the Gaza war led to harsh disciplinary action against student groups, including the suspension of Students Allied for Freedom and Equality (SAFE). Critics say the campus has become increasingly authoritarian, and several lawsuits have been filed by terminated employees alleging First Amendment violations.
Board Relations and Governance: U-M’s elected Board of Regents is ideologically divided. While five Democratic regents penned a passionate op-ed in defense of academic independence, the board’s stance on DEI and other political flashpoints appears fractured.
Beyond the immediate concerns, the university’s upheaval reflects deeper anxieties about the future of public higher education in America. Declining public trust, rising tuition, and the politicization of universities—especially around issues of race, gender, and free speech—have created an atmosphere of volatility.
While the University of Michigan continues to see strong application numbers, including from international students, enrollment of in-state high school graduates is dropping. The university’s Go Blue Guarantee, which offers free tuition to families earning under $125,000, is a step toward addressing affordability concerns. But will it be enough?
Sandy Baruah of the Detroit Regional Chamber sees a broader mission: “Our research universities all have a responsibility to make the case for higher education. The value of higher ed is critical to the state of Michigan.”
The Faculty Senate has passed resolutions urging the university to join a “mutual defense pact” with other Big Ten schools to resist political interference and defend academic freedom. But U-M is not obligated to act on those resolutions.
Interim leadership will be announced soon, and the search for a permanent successor will follow. Whoever takes the reins next will need to be a deft political operator—someone capable of rebuilding trust internally while weathering mounting external threats.
In the words of Cantwell: “Whoever they hire has to be prepared to be under intense scrutiny—locally, federally, ideologically. The next leader of Michigan must have both a spine and a strategy.”
As the University of Michigan enters this uncertain chapter, one thing is clear: the battle over the soul of public higher education is far from over.
When Donald Trump and his political allies go after elite universities like Harvard, Columbia, and the University of Pennsylvania, it’s easy—too easy—for defenders of higher education to circle the wagons. We’re told that these attacks are a threat to academic freedom, to knowledge, even to democracy itself.
There’s some truth to that. But let’s not romanticize the institutions being targeted. Elite universities are not innocent victims in America’s democratic unraveling. They have, for decades, cultivated privilege, preserved inequality, and insulated themselves from the real-world consequences of their decisions. If we’re going to talk honestly about the dangers of anti-intellectualism, we must also confront the failures of the so-called intellectual elite.
That said, the Trump movement’s war on expertise, critical thinking, and education isn't aimed at reforming these institutions—it’s about dismantling the very idea of an informed, questioning citizenry. And that’s where the true danger lies.
Let’s start with the obvious: the Ivy League and its peers are deeply complicit in America’s meritocratic mythology. They’ve served as finishing schools for the ruling class, minting the bankers, judges, presidents, and policymakers who have overseen widening inequality, endless wars, mass incarceration, and climate inaction.
These schools have protected legacy admissions, turned a blind eye to labor exploitation on their campuses, and sat on billion-dollar endowments while adjunct faculty and graduate workers scrape by. They have not been champions of democracy so much as guardians of a highly stratified status quo.
So when critics accuse them of elitism, they’re not entirely wrong. But the Trump-era populism that claims to speak for “the people” doesn’t aim to democratize education—it aims to destroy its democratic function altogether.
The Trump Administration's true grievance isn’t with elite universities per se; it’s with what these institutions represent in the public imagination: facts, complexity, and the right to question power. This resentment manifests in everything from attacks on “woke” curricula to efforts to ban books and gut public education.
The Trumpist strategy is clear: discredit intellectual institutions not to make them more accountable, but to replace expertise with loyalty, and dialogue with propaganda. This isn’t about fixing higher education. It’s about gutting the tools people need to resist authoritarianism—tools like historical context, scientific reasoning, and moral imagination.
And while elite universities may have failed to democratize knowledge, they are still among the few places where critical inquiry is possible. For all their hypocrisy, they produce some of the research and dialogue that fuels social progress. That’s precisely why they’re under attack.
It's tempting to dismiss the fight over academia as a clash between out-of-touch elites and performative populists. But this is bigger than a feud between two privileged factions. At stake is whether truth itself still matters in American political life.
Yes, universities need to be held accountable—for their exclusivity, for their economic entrenchment, for their detachment from working-class realities. But that critique must be grounded in a desire to expand and democratize knowledge, not to destroy it.
Trumpism offers no such vision. It’s not trying to fix a broken higher ed system; it’s trying to ensure fewer people can question the system at all.
We shouldn’t fall into the trap of defending elite universities just because Trump attacks them. Nor should we accept the false populism that scapegoats education while consolidating power in the hands of the ignorant and the loyal.
The choice we face is not between Ivy League hypocrisy and Trumpian anti-intellectualism. It’s between a democracy that values critical thought and a movement that seeks to suppress it—between a flawed system that can be reformed and an ideology that rejects the very notion of reform.
If we care about democracy, we must critique our institutions honestly—and defend the democratic values they too often betray but must ultimately uphold.
In a dramatic reshaping of the federal student aid system, House Republicans have introduced a 103-page legislative package that could raise the cost of college for millions of Americans while slashing $185 billion in federal spending over the next decade.
The legislation, a centerpiece of the GOP's budget reconciliation strategy, takes direct aim at key financial aid programs that have historically supported low-income, working-class, and underrepresented students. Education advocates and consumer protection groups warn the proposed cuts would deepen existing inequities in higher education and saddle a new generation of students with greater debt and fewer protections.
Among the most contentious provisions is a proposal to tighten eligibility for the Pell Grant, the federal government’s primary need-based aid program. Under the bill, students would be required to complete 30 credit hours per academic year—up from the current 24—to receive the full grant. Those taking fewer than six credit hours would become ineligible altogether, even if they need just one class to graduate.
“While we support initiatives to reduce the time it takes for students to attain a degree, this approach may jeopardize time to completion for students who work part time,” said Kim Cook, CEO of the National College Attainment Network. “By increasing students’ unmet financial need, this proposal will also drive up student borrowing for millions.”
Cook’s organization estimates the new requirements would affect roughly 25% of current Pell Grant recipients, many of whom balance school with jobs or caregiving responsibilities.
The bill also proposes to eliminate subsidized federal loans, which currently allow undergraduates to avoid interest accrual while in school. A limited three-year exemption would apply to students enrolled as of June 30, 2026.
“House Republicans propose charging low-income students more interest by ending the subsidized loan program for students with financial need,” said Abby Shafroth, co-director of advocacy at the National Consumer Law Center (NCLC).
Additionally, the bill would eliminate the PLUS Loan program for graduate students, capping lifetime borrowing at $100,000 for master’s degrees and $150,000 for law and medical students—figures that fall short of the actual cost of many programs.
Perhaps the most far-reaching changes involve student loan repayment. The bill would consolidate the current four repayment options into just two: a standard 10-year plan and a single income-driven repayment (IDR) plan. The move would dismantle President Biden’s Saving on a Valuable Education (SAVE) plan, which is already facing legal challenges.
The new IDR plan would require borrowers to pay 15% of their discretionary income—defined as income above 150% of the federal poverty line. That represents a sharp increase over current IDR plans, where many borrowers pay 5% to 10%.
According to the NCLC, this change could more than triple monthly payments for borrowers enrolled in SAVE and force impoverished families to divert funds from essentials like food, rent, or medication.
The repayment timeline would also lengthen, with forgiveness arriving only after 20 years for undergraduate debt and 25 years for those with graduate loans. A new "Repayment Assistance Plan" would extend repayment to 30 years for many borrowers before they become eligible for forgiveness.
“These changes will add to the growing number of low-income older adults still burdened by student loan debt,” said Kyra Taylor, a senior attorney at NCLC. “It’s entirely possible that low-income Americans will still be paying off their own college debt when their children are entering college themselves.”
The legislation also weakens borrower defense and school closure discharge rules, which offer relief to students defrauded by predatory institutions or impacted by sudden school closures.
The NCLC notes that the bill “rolls back common-sense regulations that would streamline relief for borrowers where the Department of Education has evidence that the school lied and used deception to enroll students in low-quality programs.”
This legislation is part of a broader GOP initiative to slash $1.5 trillion in federal spending to fund former President Donald Trump’s proposed tax cuts, military expansion, and border security initiatives. House Education and Workforce Committee Chairman Tim Walberg (R-MI) has been charged with identifying $330 billion in cuts—placing higher education directly in the crosshairs.
The bill may clear the Republican-controlled House, but its prospects in the narrowly divided Senate remain uncertain. Nonetheless, its introduction signals a renewed ideological clash over the federal role in expanding access to higher education.
Dr. Jamal Watson, author of the forthcoming book The Student Debt Crisis: America’s Moral Urgency, argues the legislation would disproportionately harm students of color, first-generation college-goers, and adult learners.
“The policies in this bill reflect a profound misunderstanding—or disregard—for the lived realities of today’s students,” said Watson. “If passed, it will exacerbate inequality and leave millions further behind.”
When teachers search for lesson plans, parents look up school policies, or researchers investigate the American education system, many unknowingly rely on public infrastructure that makes this information accessible. One such pillar is ERIC—the Education Resources Information Center—a free, open-access archive of over 2.1 million education documents funded by the U.S. Department of Education. Another is the Institute of Museum and Library Services (IMLS), which provides critical funding and research support to libraries and museums across the country.
Both are now under coordinated attack.
ERIC was set to stop updating after April 23. IMLS, the primary federal funding source for libraries and museums, is being gutted. The Trump administration has not only defunded these institutions—it’s dismantling the very structures that enable public access to knowledge, learning, and culture.
Coordinated Sabotage, Cloaked in Bureaucracy
ERIC’s shutdown is not due to budget shortfalls or Congressional gridlock. It’s a deliberate move by the administration, executed through a newly created bureaucratic entity called DOGE (Department of Government Efficiency). Though Congress authorized ERIC’s funding through 2028, DOGE has blocked the release of those funds, rendering the program inoperable.
Meanwhile, IMLS is facing its own death by design. A recent executive order signed by President Trump calls for the elimination of IMLS “to the maximum extent consistent with applicable law,” alongside six other small agencies. Staff were told that the agency would be “down to the studs,” with some projections suggesting the workforce will be cut from 75 employees to just 30—possibly transferring some to the Department of Labor. Remaining functions will be reduced to only what is legally required, hollowing out its ability to provide grants, support research, or shape policy.
“It’s devastating to the communities that we serve, the libraries and museums across this country,” one IMLS employee said.
Public Knowledge as Political Casualty
What connects ERIC and IMLS is their role in preserving and democratizing access to knowledge. ERIC is often called the education sector’s version of PubMed, a go-to source for peer-reviewed articles, gray literature, and independent research on American education. IMLS, with a $295 million annual budget, supports thousands of libraries and museums through grants and development initiatives, especially in underserved communities.
Their destruction is not a policy accident. It’s a political strategy.
“These cuts aren’t about trimming fat,” said Erin Pollard Young, former ERIC director who was terminated in a mass layoff of 1,300 education department employees. “They’re about eliminating sources of information that contradict the administration’s ideological narrative.”
ERIC’s gray literature includes unpublished reports and local school evaluations that expose hard truths about segregation, inequality, and failed corporate reforms. These aren’t easy to spin into culture war fodder—so instead, they’re buried.
From Starving Budgets to Shutting Doors
Pollard Young was ordered by DOGE to slash ERIC’s budget from $5.5 million to $2.25 million. Her plan included eliminating nearly half of ERIC’s journal coverage and absorbing duties from contractors. Even then, her revised budget proposal was summarily rejected with an email in all caps: “THIS IS NOT APPROVED.”
At IMLS, staff were given just days to apply for early retirement or incentive payments. Reduction in Force (RIF) notices are expected any day now, signaling the beginning of mass layoffs. The agency’s capacity to serve local libraries and cultural institutions is rapidly being dismantled.
The cumulative effect is clear: this administration is starving the nation’s knowledge infrastructure. Libraries. Research databases. Museums. Education grants. Anything that supports open inquiry and informed decision-making is being cut off at the source.
What’s Next? The Slow Death of Public Knowledge Infrastructure
ERIC and IMLS may only be the beginning.
If the Trump administration continues along this trajectory, other public knowledge databases could soon face similar attacks. Publicly funded resources like:
PubMed (biomedical literature)
NCES (National Center for Education Statistics)
NTIS (National Technical Information Service)
Data.gov (federal open data)
NASA’s Scientific and Technical Information Program
The National Archives and Records Administration (NARA)
...could be hollowed out or shuttered under the guise of “efficiency.” These databases, often invisible to the public, power entire ecosystems of policy research, scientific discovery, journalism, and local decision-making. Their disappearance would leave a vacuum easily filled by misinformation, partisan spin, and corporate-sponsored content.
What’s at stake is the very infrastructure of truth.
The erosion of credible, accessible, and independent information sources is not just about education—it’s about the dismantling of informed citizenship. Without publicly funded, peer-reviewed, and historically reliable databases, Americans are left to sort through algorithmically curated noise, corporate propaganda, and ideological misinformation with no baseline for truth.
The result? A nation where facts are optional, history is rewritten, and the public sphere is reduced to echo chambers of power.
An Attack on Democracy Itself
The consequences extend far beyond research access. This is an attack on the civic institutions that uphold democracy. Without ERIC, schools and policymakers lose the ability to make evidence-based decisions. Without IMLS, libraries—often the only internet access point in rural and poor communities—will lose the support they need to stay open.
“Defunding ERIC would limit public access to critical education research,” said Gladys Cruz of AASA, The School Superintendents Association. “The same goes for IMLS. When you pull out the scaffolding of knowledge from public life, what remains is ideology, disinformation, and ignorance.”
The Department of Education has doubled down, attacking the Institute of Education Sciences (ERIC’s parent agency) as ineffective—standard operating procedure in this administration: discredit the institution, defund it, destroy it.
A Call to Resist
Pollard Young is risking retaliation by speaking out. “To me, it is important for the field to know that I am doing everything in my power to save ERIC,” she said. “And also for the country to understand what is happening.”
We should listen.
What we’re witnessing is a 21st-century form of authoritarianism—not through overt censorship alone, but through systematic erasure of public knowledge, carried out under the pretense of bureaucratic streamlining. The goal is to leave behind a nation with fewer tools to learn, less access to the truth, and more room for lies to grow.
ERIC and IMLS are more than databases or funding agencies. They are lifelines to knowledge, culture, and informed citizenship. Killing them isn’t just reckless.
It’s ideological.
And we ignore their dismantling at our peril.
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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.
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.