The U.S. student loan system, now exceeding $1.7 trillion in debt and affecting over 40 million borrowers, is facing significant challenges. As political pressures rise, the management of student loans could be significantly altered. A combination of potential privatization, the elimination of the U.S. Department of Education (ED), and a new role for the Department of the Treasury raises critical questions about the future of the system.
U.S. Department of Education: Strained Resources and Outsourcing
The U.S. Department of Education (ED) is responsible for managing federal student loan servicing, loan forgiveness programs, and borrower defense to repayment (BDR) claims. However, ED has faced ongoing issues with understaffing and inefficiency, particularly as many functions have been outsourced to contractors. Companies like Maximus (including subsidiaries like AidVantage) manage much of the administrative burden for loan servicing. This has raised concerns about accountability and the impact on borrowers, especially those seeking loan relief.
In recent years, ED has also experienced staff reductions and funding cuts, making it difficult to process claims or maintain high-quality service. The potential for further cuts or even the elimination of the department could exacerbate these problems. If ED’s role is diminished, other entities, such as the Department of the Treasury, could assume responsibility for managing the student loan portfolio, though this would present its own set of challenges.
Potential for Privatization of the Student Loan Portfolio
One of the most discussed options for addressing the student loan crisis is the privatization of the federal student loan portfolio. Under previous administration discussions, including those during PresidentTrump’s tenure, there were talks about selling off parts of the student loan portfolio to private companies. This would be done with the aim of reducing the federal deficit.
In 2019, McKinsey & Company was hired by the Trump administration to analyze the value of the student loan portfolio, considering factors such as default rates and economic conditions. While the report's findings were never made public, the idea of transferring the loans to private companies—such as banks or investment firms—remains a possibility.
The consequences of privatizing federal student loans could be significant. Private companies would likely focus on profitability, which could result in stricter repayment terms or less flexibility for borrowers seeking loan forgiveness or other relief options. This shift may reduce borrower protections, making it harder for students to challenge repayment terms or pursue loan discharges.
The Department of the Treasury and its Potential Role
If the U.S. Department of Education is restructured or eliminated, there is a possibility that the Department of the Treasury could step in to manage some aspects of the student loan portfolio. The Treasury is responsible for the country’s financial systems and debt management, so it could, in theory, handle the federal student loan portfolio from a financial oversight perspective.
However, while the Treasury has experience in financial management, it lacks the specialized knowledge of student loans and borrower protections that the Department of Education currently provides. For example, the Treasury would need to find ways to process complex Borrower Defense to Repayment claims, a responsibility ED currently manages. In 2023, over 750,000 Borrower Defense claims were pending, with thousands of claims related to predatory practices at for-profit colleges such as University of Phoenix, ITT Tech, and Kaplan University (now known as Purdue Global). Additionally, some of these for-profit schools were able to reorganize and continue operating under different names, further complicating the situation.
The Treasury could also contract out loan servicing, but this could increase reliance on profit-driven companies, possibly compromising the interests of borrowers in favor of financial performance.
Borrower Defense Claims and the Impact of For-Profit Schools
A large portion of the Borrower Defense to Repayment claims comes from students who attended for-profit colleges with a history of deceptive practices. These institutions, often referred to as subprime colleges, misled students about job prospects, program outcomes, and accreditation, leaving many with significant student debt but poor employment outcomes.
Data from 2023 revealed that over 750,000 Borrower Defense claims were filed with the Department of Education, many of them against for-profit institutions. TheSweet v. Cardona case showed that more than 200,000 borrowers were expected to receive debt relief after years of waiting. However, the process was slow, with an estimated 16,000 new claims being filed each month, and only 35 ED workers handling these claims. These delays, combined with the uncertainty around the future of ED, leave borrowers vulnerable to prolonged financial hardship.
Lack of Transparency and Accountability in the System
While the U.S. Department of Education tracks Borrower Defense claims, it does not publish institutional-level data, making it difficult to identify which schools are responsible for the most fraudulent activity.
In response to this,FOIA requests have been filed by organizations like the National Student Legal Defense Network and the Higher Education Inquirer to obtain detailed information about which institutions are disproportionately affecting borrowers.
The lack of transparency in the system makes it harder for borrowers to make informed decisions about which institutions to attend and limits accountability for schools that have harmed students. If the Treasury or private companies take over management of the loan portfolio, these transparency issues could worsen, as private entities are less likely to prioritize public accountability.
Conclusion
The future of the U.S. student loan system is uncertain, particularly as the Department of Education faces the potential of funding cuts, staff reductions, or even complete dissolution. If ED’s role diminishes or disappears, the Department of the Treasury could take over some functions, but this would raise questions about the fairness and transparency of the system.
The possibility of privatizing the student loan portfolio also looms large, which could shift the focus away from borrower protections and toward financial gain for private companies. For-profit schools, many of which have a history of predatory practices, are responsible for a disproportionate number of Borrower Defense claims, and any move to privatize the loan portfolio could exacerbate the challenges faced by borrowers seeking relief from these institutions.
Ultimately, there is a need for greater transparency and accountability in how the student loan system operates. Whether managed by the Department of Education, the Treasury, or private companies, protecting borrowers and ensuring fairness should remain central to any future reforms. If these issues are not addressed, millions of borrowers will continue to face significant financial hardship.
Tuition has increased faster than
inflation. State funding has increased faster than inflation.
Administrator salaries have increased faster than inflation. Yet, the
administration is demanding that the teachers, librarians, and
researchers who drive the university’s educational mission take real
wage cuts.
While everyone acknowledges the
financial challenges facing higher education, the UO is receiving more
money per student than ever before. If this money isn’t going toward
student education and knowledge creation, where is it going?
The Facts:
Quality Education Requires Investment in Faculty
The value of a University of Oregon degree depends on the quality of
its professors, instructors, researchers, and librarians. When faculty
wages erode due to artificial austerity, neglect, or slow attrition, it
affects not only the quality of education and research, but also the
long-term value of a UO degree for students and alumni alike.
UO faculty salaries rank near the bottom among our peer institutions in the American Association of Universities (AAU).
United Academics has proposed fair wage increases that would merely adjust salaries for inflation and restore them to pre-pandemic budget levels.
Despite pandemic-related learning loss, the administration is spending less on education per student (adjusted for inflation) than before COVID-19.
The administration has prioritized administrative growth over academic excellence, while faculty have taken on increased workloads since the pandemic.
Faculty Sacrificed to Protect UO—Now It’s Time for Fair Wages
During the pandemic, faculty agreed to potential pay reductions to
help UO weather an uncertain financial future. We made sacrifices to
ensure the university could continue to serve students. Now, as we
bargain our first post-pandemic contract, the administration refuses to
offer wage increases that:
Cover inflation
Acknowledge additional faculty labor since the pandemic
Recognize our unwavering commitment to UO’s educational mission
Our Vision for UO: Excellence in Teaching & Research
The University of Oregon’s mission is clear:
“The University of Oregon is a comprehensive public research
university committed to exceptional teaching, discovery, and service. We
work at a human scale to generate big ideas. As a community of
scholars, we help individuals question critically, think logically,
reason effectively, communicate clearly, act creatively, and live
ethically.”
Our vision for the University of Oregon is one where the educational
and research mission are at the fore; an institution of higher learning
where we attract and maintain the best researchers and instructors and
provide a world class education for the citizens of Oregon and beyond.
Yes, this will take a shift in economic priorities, but only back to
those before the pandemic. Our demands are neither extravagant nor
frivolous. Our demand is that the fiduciaries of the University of
Oregon perform their primary fiduciary duty: support the mission of the
University of Oregon.
Why This Matters Now
We are currently in state-mandated mediation, a final step before a
potential faculty strike. Striking is a last resort—faculty do not want
to disrupt student learning. However, the administration’s arguments for
austerity do not align with the university’s financial situation or
acknowledge the increased faculty labor and inflated economic reality
since the pandemic. If the administration does not relent, we may have
no choice but to strike.
We Need Your Support
A strong show of support from the UO community—students, parents,
alumni, donors, legislators and citizens of Oregon and beyond—can help
pressure the administration to do the right thing.
Our journalism is different than most others who cover higher education. Like those other outlets, we report the news, but that is not our focus. And like a few outlets, we also do time-consuming investigative work. We recognize the outstanding contributions of dedicated journalists, but these times, the 2020s, call good people to do more--much more.
The Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) follows the legacy of the muckrakers from the early 20th century. HEI delves into in-depth investigative reporting, uncovering scandals, institutional failures, and systemic inequalities in colleges, universities, and their related businesses. Journalists like Upton Sinclair (who exposed the meatpacking industry) and Ida Tarbell (who revealed monopolistic practices in oil) used their platforms to spotlight hidden problems. In a similar vein, HEI
carries this tradition forward by focusing on the higher
education industry and connects it with the world outside the ivory
tower.
Muckraking journalists of the past often focused on giving a voice to the voiceless, and in today's context, HEI highlights issues such as racial, class, and gender disparities in education and the work that should follow. These topics have become more prominent in the 2020s as society grapples with the effects of systemic inequalities and how marginalized communities are underserved and underrepresented in elite institutions.
Just as muckrakers' stories led to reforms (e.g., child labor laws, anti-trust regulations), HEI aims to create change in higher education by influencing public opinion and policy. Change that can take decades to create and months to lose. By exposing unethical practices and systemic problems, such as the growing burden of student loans, the corporatization of universities, and complicity in climate change and authoritarianism, we hope to prompt action from lawmakers and educators to implement more equitable solutions.
Importance of This Type of Journalism in the 2020s:
In the 2020s, higher education is undergoing significant challenges, to include skyrocketing tuition, an increasing reliance on adjunct faculty, and concerns over the value of a college degree. Investigative journalism like ours holds universities accountable for the way they handle these issues. It serves as a check on the growing power and wealth of educational institutions, particularly in light of their increasing commercialization and influence over public policy.
The 2020s have brought heightened awareness of issues like racial inequality, mental health concerns, and the widening gap between wealthy and poor students. Investigative journalism continues to expose these problems, helping to drive conversations about fairness and equity in education. In an era when many people feel disconnected from powerful institutions, journalism that uncovers uncomfortable truths is essential for mobilizing change.
Higher education has been seen by many as a beacon of knowledge, innovation, and fairness, yet there are growing concerns about its accessibility and integrity. Investigative journalism done well helps maintain public trust in higher education by ensuring that universities live up to their purported values. HEI helps the public see when universities exploit students, misuse funds, or engage in unethical practices.
In the 2020s, many key policy issues—such as student debt, the cost of education, and educational access—are hot topics. Journalism that scrutinizes higher education can influence policy reform, potentially leading to legislative action aimed at reducing student debt, increasing transparency in university finances, and addressing fair hiring practices.
War and Peace:
War is often driven by political, economic, and technological forces, and universities are deeply intertwined with these drivers. Many top universities have longstanding partnerships with military contractors, defense organizations, and intelligence agencies. Research funded by these institutions may directly contribute to the development of weapons or military technologies, some of which are used in conflicts around the world.
The Higher Education Inquirer investigates how these partnerships influence the direction of research, as well as the ethical implications of universities prioritizing military contracts over other forms of academic inquiry. Similarly, university programs train future leaders who will shape foreign policy or lead military operations, and HEI will hold them accountable for the potential consequences of those actions.
On the other hand, universities can be spaces where peace studies, conflict resolution programs, and global diplomacy are taught—an important counterbalance that HEI highlights, showing how academia can be a force for peace amidst the militarization of knowledge.
Genocide:
Genocides are often preceded by a climate of division and dehumanization, and universities are often the breeding grounds for ideologies that either challenge or perpetuate these dynamics. Throughout history, some academic institutions have provided intellectual support to regimes that perpetrate genocide, whether through the training of military officers or the dissemination of harmful nationalist ideologies.
Conversely, universities can also serve as platforms for the resistance against genocide, with professors and students leading efforts to expose atrocities, advocate for human rights, and prevent violence.
The Higher Education Inquirer investigates how universities have both been complicit in, and resisted, the ideologies that fuel genocide. HEI explores the ways in which certain university-funded research or prominent academic figures have either contributed to genocidal narratives or become strong advocates for justice and reconciliation in the aftermath of such horrors.
Global Climate Change:
Climate change represents a massive, existential crisis that touches every part of society, and universities are both contributors to and leaders in tackling this challenge.
HEI investigates how universities have been complicit in exacerbating the climate crisis—whether through fossil fuel investments, ties to unsustainable industries, or research that furthers environmentally harmful practices. At the same time, universities are also at the cutting edge of climate science, sustainable technologies, and environmental activism.
The Higher Education Inquirer investigates whether universities are doing enough to address their own carbon footprints, promote sustainable practices on campus, and foster a generation of leaders who are committed to climate justice. In a world where universities are increasingly seen as both perpetrators of environmental degradation and potential agents of change, HEI’s investigative reporting is crucial in holding these institutions accountable.
Mass Incarceration:
The United States has one of the highest incarceration rates in the world, and universities are deeply involved in the systems that perpetuate this crisis. Many universities participate in research that supports law enforcement, surveillance technologies, or criminal justice policies, which can fuel the growth of the prison-industrial complex.
The Higher Education Inquirer examines how higher education sustains and challenges mass incarceration. For instance, some universities benefit from partnerships with prisons, offering education programs to incarcerated individuals, but also facing criticism for their indirect role in perpetuating a system that disproportionately targets people of color.
HEI investigates whether universities are actively working to dismantle mass incarceration through programs that promote restorative justice, education in prisons, or advocacy for systemic reform, or whether they are complicit in perpetuating the status quo through research and policy influence that supports harsh criminal justice policies.
Uniting These Issues:
The Higher Education Inquirer brings these issues together by demonstrating how universities are not isolated entities but integral parts of a global system that influences war, human rights, the environment, and justice.
For example, universities that are heavily funded by military contracts should be implicated in fueling global conflict and war, while also contributing to climate change through the development of harmful technologies. At the same time, these same universities often fail to adequately address the ways in which their research, policies, and curricula shape or reinforce systemic racism and mass incarceration.
By following the muckraker tradition of exposing corruption and exploitation, HEI investigates how the pursuit of profit, power, and prestige within academia intersects with larger global crises.
Investigative journalism that connects the dots between higher education, war, genocide, climate change, and mass incarceration is crucial to fully understanding these issues and holding institutions accountable for their roles in perpetuating or mitigating them.
In the 2020s, when universities hold immense cultural, political, and economic power, the Higher Education Inquirer continues the legacy of the muckrakers by pushing for a more ethical, transparent, and socially responsible approach to higher education—one that reveals the problems of the world and to its solutions.
Elite universities, long considered the pinnacle of higher education, have become increasingly entwined in a broader conversation about privilege, access, and power. From their controversial legacy admissions practices to their outsized political influence, these institutions are not merely places of learning—they are gatekeepers of social and economic power, shaping the future through both exclusion and influence. Beyond their academic roles, these universities have extended their reach into local communities, using their enormous wealth and influence to take control of land, shape urban landscapes, and solidify their power within regional politics.
The legacy admissions system, which provides preferential treatment to the children and grandchildren of alumni, is a glaring example of how these universities perpetuate privilege. Institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Stanford—universities that consistently rank among the top in the nation—have long utilized this practice to ensure that the doors to elite education remain open to those already within the circles of power. By admitting students with lesser academic qualifications solely because of their family connections, these schools continue a long tradition of insularity, effectively reserving spaces for the wealthy and well-connected. Despite growing opposition, including recent moves by California’s private colleges to ban legacy admissions, the practice remains a powerful force, locking out more qualified, diverse applicants and ensuring that the privileged maintain access to elite institutions.
In addition to these admissions practices, elite universities exert considerable influence on the political landscape. The recent revelations about their political spending—millions funneled into federal campaigns, overwhelmingly favoring Democratic candidates—highlight a disturbing trend. Universities like Harvard, Stanford, and Johns Hopkins are not neutral players in the policy arena; they are active participants in shaping the very policies that benefit their interests. Whether it’s lobbying for federal funding, securing advantageous tax policies, or influencing regulations related to higher education, these universities use their wealth to protect and expand their power. These schools are not just centers of academic pursuit—they are political players in their own right, using their financial clout to shape the policies that govern education, tax law, and more.
Beyond their influence in academia and politics, elite universities increasingly exert power over the very land on which they sit. In many cities, top-tier universities like Harvard, Stanford, Columbia, and the University of Chicago are not just educational institutions—they are economic and political powerhouses. With multi-billion-dollar endowments, these institutions often wield more financial clout than entire cities. They routinely expand their campuses, purchasing properties, and in some cases, entire neighborhoods, often displacing long-standing communities in the process. This process, commonly known as "university-led gentrification," transforms urban spaces, driving up property values and rents while pushing out lower-income residents.
Universities often justify their land acquisitions as part of their mission to expand their campuses, build new research centers, and offer more housing for students and faculty. However, the impact on local communities can be severe. In many cases, universities use their tax-exempt status to avoid paying property taxes on the land they acquire, depriving local governments of revenue while also claiming a disproportionate share of urban space. This allows them to grow their influence without contributing fully to the neighborhoods in which they are embedded.
This land-grabbing behavior has sparked resistance in cities across the country. In Boston, for example, Harvard and MIT have been critiqued for taking over large swaths of land in the Allston and Kendall Square neighborhoods, displacing low-income residents and local businesses. In New York, Columbia’s expansion into Harlem sparked protests from community members who felt their homes and livelihoods were being sacrificed to the university’s growth. In many cases, these universities lobby local governments to secure favorable zoning laws, tax breaks, and exemptions that allow them to build at will and maintain their growing empire.
Both legacy admissions and political donations underscore a fundamental truth: elite universities are not just educational institutions—they are institutions of power. They maintain an oligarchic structure that privileges those already in positions of wealth and influence, while shaping local economies and political systems to ensure their continued dominance. By hoarding access to elite education, they perpetuate a system in which the children of the wealthy have a head start in both education and society, while simultaneously lobbying for policies that further cement their own influence. Through their land acquisitions, gentrification, political donations, and admissions practices, these universities continue to consolidate their power, reinforcing an elitist status quo that leaves many outside looking in.
In all of this, university presidents have increasingly positioned themselves as moral arbiters, asserting their institutions’ commitment to social justice, inclusion, and equality. Yet this moral high ground becomes precarious when their administrations take extreme measures to suppress resistance. Protests against their policies—whether regarding gentrification, climate change, or labor rights—are often met with heavy-handed tactics. University leaders, eager to preserve their public image, have been known to deploy security forces, call in the police, or even collaborate with local governments to disband protests. In some cases, these universities have resorted to legal action against student and faculty activists, silencing dissent through threats of discipline, expulsion, or other punitive measures.
This duplicity becomes even more apparent when considering the moral stands many university leaders take in public, promoting inclusivity, diversity, and progressive values, while simultaneously suppressing those who challenge their institution’s power dynamics. In the face of mounting resistance from marginalized communities or student groups, these leaders prefer to maintain control over their campuses and public narratives, often using administrative power to quash any movements that may disrupt the status quo.
Yet, history has shown that even the most entrenched systems can change, and university presidents are not beyond the possibility of transformation. Just as some figures in the Bible experienced profound revelations that led them to change course and right their wrongs, university leaders, too, can have moments of reckoning. Consider the example of King David, whose heart was changed after his confrontation with the prophet Nathan over his sin (2 Samuel 12). David, once blinded by his own power, repented and chose a path of humility and righteousness. In the same way, university presidents, confronted by the voices of resistance, public outcry, or moral awakening, could choose to lead their institutions toward a more just and equitable future. In the New Testament, Saul’s conversion on the road to Damascus (Acts 9) serves as another powerful reminder that no one is beyond redemption. Saul, who once persecuted early Christians, was transformed into Paul, one of the most influential apostles in Christian history. Similarly, a university president could choose to recognize the harm their institution has caused and decide to enact transformative policies that benefit marginalized communities and dismantle the systems of privilege they have helped sustain.
Moses is another figure whose story exemplifies the power of divine revelation to shift course. As a prince of Egypt, Moses had everything at his disposal, yet he chose to stand up to Pharaoh when he recognized the injustice of the Hebrew people’s oppression. His moment of conviction led him to free his people from slavery, even though it required courage to defy a powerful ruler (Exodus 3-4). In the same way, a university president must stand up to the powerful trustees and donors who expect to maintain the status quo. To act in the face of such resistance requires profound moral courage—a willingness to lead against entrenched interests that protect wealth and privilege.
Another key figure in the Old Testament is Esther, who displayed extraordinary courage in a moment of great moral clarity. She risked her life by standing up to King Xerxes to save the Jewish people from annihilation (Esther 4). As the queen, she was in a powerful position, but it was only when she realized the enormity of the injustice at hand that she chose to act. Similarly, university presidents with the power to challenge the status quo can, like Esther, use their positions to advocate for justice and equality, even if it means confronting powerful forces that wish to preserve an unjust order.
As university presidents come face to face with the overwhelming issues of racism, injustice, and climate chaos, there exists the possibility of moral revelation—a turning point where they confront the gravity of their actions and their institutions’ role in perpetuating harm. The growing calls for racial justice, fueled by movements like Black Lives Matter, demand an acknowledgment of the systemic racism embedded in these universities. Whether through the disproportionate representation of wealthy white students or the stark inequities in faculty and leadership diversity, these institutions must reckon with their participation in racial oppression. Similarly, as the climate crisis deepens, universities’ investments in fossil fuels and their ongoing complicity in the destruction of the environment have become focal points for student activists and global environmental movements. Universities, often perceived as beacons of progress, have a responsibility to divest from industries contributing to ecological collapse and instead use their vast resources for environmental justice.
And yet, one of the greatest challenges these university leaders will face lies not only in the resistance of external forces like protestors, activists, and the general public, but also in the powerful trustees and donors who hold significant sway over the institutions’ direction. Many universities are closely tied to wealthy benefactors and influential trustees whose interests often align with maintaining the status quo—whether through preserving investment strategies, political stances, or traditional admissions processes. These figures are not simply investors in the university's future; they are powerful stakeholders with the resources to shape institutional policies and procedures, often with little regard for social justice or environmental responsibility.
For a university president to truly lead with courage and integrity, they must be willing to go against these powerful forces. This would require challenging the entrenched interests of those who have long benefited from an elite, exclusionary system and are reluctant to embrace the radical changes needed to address systemic injustice. It takes immense fortitude to stand up to trustees and donors who view universities as tools for preserving their wealth and influence, rather than forces for good in the world.
But university presidents who choose to go against these forces can become true moral leaders. They can take inspiration from figures like Moses, who boldly defied Pharaoh’s power to liberate the oppressed, or Esther, whose bravery in standing up to the king saved her people (Esther 4). In doing so, they would not only transform their institutions but also serve as examples of ethical leadership in a time when such leadership is sorely needed.
The courage to defy powerful donors and trustees would mark a dramatic shift in how elite universities operate. Presidents could, if they choose, champion a new vision—one where social justice, racial equality, and environmental sustainability are at the forefront of institutional priorities. Just as Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt toward a promised land of freedom, so too could university presidents lead their institutions out of the grip of elitism and corporate influence, steering them toward a more equitable and just future.
Both legacy admissions, political donations, land control, and the suppression of protest point to a deeper issue: elite universities have built themselves into institutions of unparalleled power. These universities operate not only as educational establishments but also as political and economic entities, constantly reinforcing a structure of privilege, wealth, and exclusion. The dissonance between their public declarations of moral authority and their actions to protect entrenched power reveals the true nature of these institutions. They are not the bastions of free inquiry and social good they often claim to be—they are powerful, self-interested players in a system that serves to preserve the very inequalities they profess to challenge.
However, the possibility remains that these institutions—guided by transformative leadership—could embrace a new path. University presidents could heed the call for justice, as many leaders in history have, and change the trajectory of their institutions, opting to lead in ways that promote true equity, racial justice, and environmental stewardship. These universities—once seen as places of learning and opportunity—could become what they claim to be: inclusive, just, and truly committed to the betterment of society. They are the architects of the future they seek to create: one where the privileged no longer remain firmly entrenched at the top, and where political, economic, and educational structures are reshaped for the common good. Whether through legacy admissions, political spending, land control, or suppressing protest, these institutions continue to consolidate their power, but with the right leadership, they can still pivot toward a more just future—one that embodies the values they espouse.
[Editor's note: This essay, written for elite university presidents, is intended as a rhetorical device rather than a statement of facts. We find that everyone has their own "mythology" or set of mythologies they follow. As with all our work, we value your feedback.]
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Trump appears bent on ridding schools of dangerous practices like critical thinking and an unsanitized study of history.
In the initial days of his second term, President Donald Trump issued several executive orders “seeking
to control how schools teach about race and gender, direct more tax
dollars to private schools, and deport pro-Palestinian protesters.” On January 29, 2025, he signed the “Ending Radical Indoctrination in K-12 Schooling”
executive order, which mandates the elimination of curricula that the
administration deems as promoting “radical, anti-American ideologies.”
This executive order is not just an attack on critical race theory or
teachings about systemic racism — it is a cornerstone of an
authoritarian ideology designed to eliminate critical thought, suppress
historical truth and strip educators of their autonomy. Under the guise
of combating “divisiveness,” it advances a broader war on education as a
democratizing force, turning schools into dead zones of the
imagination. By threatening to strip federal funding from institutions
that refuse to conform, this policy functions as an instrument of
ideological indoctrination, enforcing a sanitized, nationalistic
narrative that erases histories of oppression and resistance while
deepening a culture of ignorance and compliance.
Concurrently, President Trump issued the “Expanding Educational Freedom and Opportunity for Families”
executive order, aiming to enhance school choice by redirecting federal
funds to support charter schools and voucher programs. This policy
enables parents to use public funds for private and religious school
tuition. While proponents claim that this legislation empowers parents
and fosters competition, in reality, it is a calculated effort to defund
and privatize public education, undermining it as a democratizing
public good. As part of a broader far right assault on education, this
policy redirects essential resources away from public schools, deepening
educational inequality and advancing an agenda that seeks to erode
public investment in a just and equitable society.
In the name of eliminating radical indoctrination in schools, a third executive order,
which purportedly aims at ending antisemitism, threatens to deport
pro-Palestinian student protesters by revoking their visas, warning that even those legally in the country could be targeted
for their political views. In a stark display of authoritarianism,
Trump’s executive order unapologetically stated that free speech would
not be tolerated. Reuters
made this clear in reporting that one fact sheet ominously declared: “I
will … quickly cancel the student visas of all Hamas sympathizers on
college campuses, which have been infested with radicalism like never
before. To all the resident aliens who joined in the pro-jihadist
protests, we put you on notice: come 2025, we will find you, and we will
deport you.”
By gutting federal oversight, he is handing the fate of education to
reactionary state legislatures and corporate interests, ensuring that
knowledge is shaped by a state held captive by billionaires and far
right extremists. This is the logic of authoritarianism: to hollow out
democratic institutions and replace education with white Christian
propaganda and a pedagogy of repression. At issue here is an attempt to
render an entire generation defenseless against the very forces seeking
to dominate them.
What we are witnessing is not just an educational crisis but a
full-scale war on institutions that not only defend democracy but enable
it. What is under siege in this attack is not only the critical
function of education but the very notion that it should be defined
through its vision of creating a central feature of democracy, educating
informed and critically engaged citizens.
These executive actions represent an upgraded and broader version of
McCarthyite and apartheid-era education that seeks to dictate how
schools teach about race and gender, funnel more taxpayer dollars into
private institutions, and deport Palestinian protesters. The irony is
striking: The White House defends these regressive measures of
sanitizing history, stripping away the rights of transgender students
and erasing critical race theory as efforts to “end indoctrination in
American education.” In truth, this is not about the pursuit of freedom
or open inquiry, nor is it about fostering an education that cultivates
informed, critically engaged citizens. At its core, this agenda is a
deliberate attack on education as a public good — one that threatens to
dismantle not only public institutions, but the very essence of public
and higher education and its culture of criticism and democracy. The
urgency of this moment cannot be overstated: The future of education
itself is at stake.
In the raging currents of contemporary political and cultural life,
where fascist ideologies are rising, one of the most insidious and
all-encompassing forces at play is the violence of forgetting — a plague
of historical amnesia. This phenomenon, which I have referred to as “organized forgetting,”
describes the systemic erasure of history and its violent consequences,
particularly in the public sphere. This is especially evident in the
current historical moment, when books are banned in
libraries, public schools and higher education across countries, such
as the United States, Hungary, India, China and Russia. Ignoring past
atrocities, historical injustices and uncomfortable truths about a
society’s foundation is not merely an oversight — it constitutes an
active form of violence that shapes both our collective consciousness
and political realities. What we are witnessing here is an assault by
the far right on memory that is inseparable from what Maximillian
Alvarez describes as a battle over power — over who is remembered, who
is erased, who is cast aside and who is forcibly reduced to something
less than human. This struggle is not just about history; it is about
whose stories are allowed to shape the present and the future. Alvarez captures this reality with striking clarity and is worth quoting at length:
Among the prizes at stake in the endless war of politics is history
itself. The battle for power is always a battle to determine who gets
remembered, how they will be recalled, where and in what forms their
memories will be preserved. In this battle, there is no room for neutral
parties: every history and counter-history must fight and scrap and
claw and spread and lodge itself in the world, lest it be forgotten or
forcibly erased. All history, in this sense, is the history of empire — a
bid for control of that greatest expanse of territory, the past.
Organized forgetting also helped fuel the resurgence of Donald Trump,
as truth and reason are being systematically replaced by lies,
corruption, denial and the weaponization of memory itself. A culture of
questioning, critique and vision is not simply disappearing in the
United States — it is actively maligned, disparaged and replaced by a
darkness that, as Ezra Klein
observes, is “stupefyingly vast, stretching from self-destructive
incompetence to muddling incoherence to authoritarian consolidation.”
This erosion affects institutions of law, civil society and education
— pillars that rely on memory, informed judgment and evidence to foster
historical understanding and civic responsibility. The attack on the
common good goes beyond the distractions of an “attention economy”designed
to distort reality; it reflects a deliberate effort to sever the ties
between history and meaning. Time is reduced to fragmented episodes,
stripped of the shared narratives that connect the past, present and
future.
This crisis embodies a profound collapse of memory, history,
education and democracy itself. A culture of manufactured ignorance —
rooted in the rejection of history, facts and critical thought — erases
accountability for electing a leader who incited insurrection and
branded his opponents as “enemies from within.” Such authoritarian
politics thrive on historical amnesia, lulling society into passivity,
eroding collective memory and subverting civic agency. This is
epitomized by Trump’s declaration
on “Fox & Friends” that he would punish schools that teach students
accurate U.S. history, including about slavery and racism in the
country. The call to silence dangerous memories is inseparable from the
violence of state terrorism — a force that censors and dehumanizes
dissent, escalating to the punishment, torture and imprisonment of
truth-tellers and critics who dare to hold oppressive power accountable.
At its core, the violence of forgetting operates through the denial
and distortion of historical events, particularly those that challenge
the dominant narratives of power. From the colonial atrocities and the
struggles for civil rights to the history of Palestine-Israel relations,
many of the most significant chapters of history are either glossed
over or erased altogether. This strategic omission serves the interests
of those in power, enabling them to maintain control by silencing
inconvenient truths. As the historian Timothy Snyder
reminds us, by refusing to acknowledge the violence of the past,
society makes it far easier to perpetuate injustices in the present. The
politics of organized forgetting, the censoring of history and the
attack on historical consciousness are fundamental to the rise of far
right voices in the U.S. and across the world.
With the rise of regressive memory laws, designed to repress what
authoritarian governments consider dangerous and radical interpretations
of a country’s past, historical consciousness is transformed into a
form of historical amnesia. One vivid example of a regressive memory law
was enacted by Trump during his first term. The 1776 Report,
which right-wingers defended as a “restoration of American education,”
was in fact an attempt to eliminate from the teaching of history any
reference to a legacy of colonialism, slavery and movements which
highlighted elements of American history that were unconscionable,
anti-democratic and morally repugnant. Snyder highlights the emergence
of memory laws in a number of states. He writes in a 2021 New York Times article:
As of this writing, five states (Idaho, Iowa, Tennessee, Texas and
Oklahoma) have passed laws that direct and restrict discussions of
history in classrooms. The Department of Education of a sixth (Florida)
has passed guidelines with the same effect. Another 12 state
legislatures are still considering memory laws. The particulars of these
laws vary. The Idaho law is the most Kafkaesque in its censorship: It
affirms freedom of speech and then bans divisive speech. The Iowa law
executes the same totalitarian pirouette. The Tennessee and Texas laws
go furthest in specifying what teachers may and may not say. In
Tennessee teachers must not teach that the rule of law is “a series of
power relationships and struggles among racial or other groups.”… The
Idaho law mentions Critical Race Theory; the directive from the Florida
school board bans it in classrooms. The Texas law forbids teachers from
requiring students to understand the 1619 Project. It is a perverse
goal: Teachers succeed if students do not understand something.
A major aspect of this forgetting and erasure of historical memory is the role of ignorance,
which has become not just widespread but weaponized in modern times.
Ignorance, particularly in U.S. society, has shifted from being a
passive lack of knowledge to an active refusal to engage with critical
issues. This is amplified by the spectacle-driven nature of contemporary
media and the increasing normalization of a culture of lies and the
embrace of a language of violence, which not only thrives on distraction
rather than reflection, but has become a powerful force for spreading
bigotry, racial hatred and right-wing lies. In addition, the mainstream
media’s obsession with spectacle — be it political drama, celebrity
culture or sensationalist stories — often overshadows the more
important, yet less glamorous, discussions about historical violence and
systemic injustice.
This intellectual neglect allows for a dangerous cycle to persist,
where the erasure of history enables the continuation of violence and
oppression. Systems of power benefit from this amnesia, as it allows
them to maintain the status quo without having to answer for past
wrongs. When society refuses to remember or address past injustices —
whether it’s slavery, imperialism or economic exploitation — those in
power can continue to exploit the present without fear of historical
accountability.
To strip education of its critical power is to rob democracy of its transformative potential.
The cultural impact of this organized forgetting is profound. Not
only does it create a void in public memory, but it also stunts
collective growth. Without the lessons of the past, it becomes nearly
impossible to learn from mistakes and address the root causes of social
inequalities. The failure to remember makes it harder to demand
meaningful change, while reproducing and legitimating ongoing far right
assaults on democracy.
The violence of organized forgetting is not a mere act of neglect; it
is a deliberate cultural and intellectual assault that undercuts the
foundations of any meaningful democracy. By erasing the past, society
implicitly condones the ongoing oppression of marginalized groups and
perpetuates harmful ideologies that thrive in ignorance. This erasure
silences the voices of those who have suffered — denying them the space
to speak their truth and demand justice. It is not limited to historical
injustices alone; it extends to the present, silencing those who
courageously criticize contemporary violence, such as Israel’s
U.S.-backed genocidal war on Gaza, and those brave enough to hold power
accountable.
The act of forgetting is not passive; it actively supports systems of
oppression and censorship, muffling dissent and debate, both of which
are essential for a healthy democracy.
Equally dangerous is the form of historical amnesia that has come to
dominate our contemporary political and cultural landscape. This
organized forgetting feeds into a pedagogy of manufactured ignorance
that prioritizes emotion over reason and spectacle over truth. In this
process, history is fragmented and distorted, making it nearly
impossible to construct a coherent understanding of the past. As a
result, public institutions — particularly education — are undermined,
as critical thinking and social responsibility give way to shallow,
sensationalized narratives. Higher education, once a bastion for the
development of civic literacy and the moral imperative of understanding
our role as both individuals and social agents, is now attacked by
forces seeking to cleanse public memory of past social and political
progress. Figures like Trump embody this threat, working to erase the
memory of strides made in the name of equality, justice and human
decency. This organized assault on historical memory and intellectual
rigor strikes at the heart of democracy itself. When we allow the
erasure of history and the undermining of critical thought, we risk
suffocating the ideals that democracy promises: justice, equality and
accountability.
A democracy cannot thrive in the absence of informed and engaged
agents that are capable of questioning, challenging and reimagining a
future different from the present. Without such citizens, the very
notion of democracy becomes a hollow, disembodied ideal — an illusion of
freedom without the substance of truth or responsibility. Education, in
this context, is not merely a tool for transmitting knowledge; it is
the foundation and bedrock of political consciousness. To be educated,
to be a citizen, is not a neutral or passive state — it is a vital,
active political and moral engagement with the world, grounded in
critical thinking and democratic possibility. It is a recognition that
the act of learning and the act of being a citizen are inextricable from
each other. To strip education of its critical power is to rob
democracy of its transformative potential.
Confronting the violence of forgetting requires a shift in how we
engage with history. Intellectuals, educators and activists must take up
the responsibility of reintroducing the painful truths of the past into
public discourse. This is not about dwelling in the past for its own
sake, but about understanding its relevance to the present and future.
To break the cycles of violence, society must commit to remembering, not
just for the sake of memory, but as a critical tool for progress.
Moreover, engaging with history honestly requires recognizing that
the violence of forgetting is not a one-time event but a continual
process. Systems of power don’t simply forget; they actively work to
erase, rewrite and sanitize historical narratives. This means that the
fight to remember is ongoing and requires constant vigilance. It’s not
enough to simply uncover historical truths; society must work to ensure
that these truths are not forgotten again, buried under the weight of
media spectacles, ideological repression and political theater.
Ultimately, the violence of forgetting is an obstacle to genuine
social change. Without confronting the past — acknowledging the violence
and injustices that have shaped our world — we cannot hope to build a
more just and informed future. To move forward, any viable democratic
social order must reckon with its past, break free from the bonds of
ignorance, and commit to creating a future based on knowledge, justice
and accountability.
The task of confronting and dismantling the violent structures shaped
by the power of forgetting is immense, yet the urgency has never been
more pronounced. In an era where the scope and power of new pedagogical
apparatuses such as social media and AI dominate our cultural and
intellectual landscapes, the challenge becomes even more complex. While
they hold potential for education and connection, these technologies are
controlled by a reactionary ruling class of financial elite and
billionaires, and they are increasingly wielded to perpetuate
disinformation, fragment history and manipulate public discourse. The
authoritarian algorithms that drive these platforms increasingly
prioritize sensationalism over substance, lies over truth, the
appropriation of power over social responsibility, and in doing so,
reinforce modes of civic illiteracy, while attacking those fundamental
institutions which enable critical perspectives and a culture of
questioning.
The vital need for collective action and intellectual engagement to
reclaim and restore historical truth, critical thinking and social
responsibility is urgent. The present historical moment, both
unprecedented and alarming, resonates with Antonio Gramsci’s reflection
on an earlier era marked by the rise of fascism: “The old world is
dying, and the new world struggles to be born; now is the time of
monsters.”
In the face of a deepening crisis of history, memory and agency, any
meaningful resistance must be collective, disruptive and
unapologetically unsettling — challenging entrenched orthodoxies and
dismantling the forces that perpetuate ignorance and injustice. This
struggle needs to be both radical in its essence and uncompromising in
its demands for social change, recognizing education as inseparable from
politics and the tangible challenges people face in their everyday
lives. In this collective effort lies the power to dismantle the
barriers to truth, rebuild the foundations of critical thought, and
shape a future rooted in knowledge, justice and a profound commitment to
make power accountable. Central to this vision is the capacity to learn
from history, to nurture a historical consciousness that informs our
present and to reimagine agency as an essential force in the enduring
struggle for democracy. This call for a radical imagination cannot be
confined to classrooms but must emerge as a transformative force
embedded in a united, multiracial, working-class movement. Only then can
we confront the urgent crises of our time.
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In 2025 the state of American education is more precarious than ever. Many public schools, especially those in underfunded urban and rural areas, are failing their students. The term "failing schools" is often thrown around in political debates, but what does it actually mean? And how did we get here?
The Markers of Failure Failing schools are characterized by a combination of low test scores, declining graduation rates, poor teacher retention, crumbling infrastructure, and high student absenteeism. These institutions often serve marginalized communities where poverty, crime, and systemic neglect create an uphill battle for education.
The Road to Failure The crisis in education did not happen overnight. It is the result of decades of misguided policies, economic shifts, and societal neglect. Below are some of the key factors that have contributed to the decline of many schools:
Chronic Underfunding Public schools rely heavily on local property taxes for funding, which means that schools in wealthy areas flourish while those in impoverished communities struggle to provide basic resources.
Schools in affluent neighborhoods have modern facilities and abundant resources, while schools serving working class students operate in substandard conditions.
Attempts to "reform" through privatization and the push for charter schools have only exacerbated the problem. Instead of addressing root causes, these reforms often drain public schools of resources, leaving them even more vulnerable.
The Era of Standardized Testing
Since the early 2000s, the focus on standardized testing has led to a "teach to the test" culture that stifles creativity, critical thinking, and real learning. Schools that fail to meet test score benchmarks face punitive measures rather than meaningful support.
Teacher Burnout and Shortages Low salaries, lack of respect, increasing workloads, and political interference have driven many talented educators out of the profession. The teacher pipeline is drying up, leaving many schools with underqualified or temporary staff.
Educators are often forced to contend with not only limited resources but also overwhelming emotional and physical demands that contribute to burnout. The constant critique of teachers and their work environment, compounded by insufficient support, drives educators out of the profession, leaving students without the consistent mentorship they need.
Privatization and Charter Expansion The rise of charter schools and school voucher programs has siphoned funds from public schools, leaving them with fewer resources to educate the most vulnerable students, including those with disabilities and language barriers.
The push for privatization is a form of "corporate education reform" that undermines public schooling. Rather than addressing root causes, these reforms often divert funds to entities more interested in profit than equity. Charter schools in some cases have exacerbated the inequalities they were meant to address.
Social and Economic Inequality The challenges students face at home—such as food insecurity, lack of healthcare, and unstable housing—spill into the classroom. Schools cannot solve these problems alone, yet they are often expected to compensate for systemic failures in social services.
Historical inequalities—rooted in race, class, and gender—have been perpetuated through institutions like education, often leaving marginalized communities at a disadvantage. The lack of support for students in poverty is not a new phenomenon but part of a long history of structural neglect.
Immigration Immigration brings both opportunities and challenges to different socioeconomic areas. In affluent neighborhoods, immigrants often contribute to cultural diversity, stimulate local economies, and fill highly skilled labor gaps, which enhances the overall prosperity of these communities.
In working-class neighborhoods, the influx of immigrants can strain resources and services, leading to heightened competition for low-wage jobs and potential wage suppression. While some may thrive, others may experience economic hardship and decreased access to affordable housing and healthcare, creating disparities within these communities.
Violence and Safety Concerns Mass shootings, gang violence, and bullying have made many schools unsafe. Metal detectors and police presence have not necessarily improved learning conditions, and in some cases, they have exacerbated tensions between students and faculty.
Larger social forces at play include the militarization of society and its impact on the way schools are policed and students are treated. The criminalization of students, particularly students of color, has led to an environment where educational spaces are seen as places of fear rather than learning.
Why This Matters Failing schools do not just affect individual students; they have profound implications for the workforce, the economy, and democracy itself. Poor education leads to lower earning potential, increased crime rates, and a disengaged electorate.
If we continue to neglect our schools, we risk deepening inequality and weakening the fabric of our society. The consequences of educational inequity are far-reaching, affecting not only the students directly impacted but also the future of communities, economies, and the nation as a whole.
This is a broader reflection of a society where the interests of the wealthy are prioritized over the needs of the marginalized, reinforcing cycles of poverty and injustice. If educational opportunities remain unequal, democracy itself is at risk, as people from underprivileged backgrounds are denied the tools to engage critically with society and its political structures.
What Other Nations Are Doing: Lessons from Abroad While the United States of America struggles with these deep-rooted issues, other nations have found ways to achieve better outcomes in education by focusing on equality, teacher support, and broadening the definition of success beyond standardized testing.
Finland: A Model of Equity and Teacher Respect Finland has long been held up as a model of educational excellence. One of its core principles is equality. Finnish schools ensure that all students, regardless of background, have access to high-quality education. Teachers in Finland are highly trained (requiring a master’s degree), well-compensated, and respected as professionals. Unlike the U.S., Finland has largely avoided the pitfalls of standardized testing, focusing instead on a holistic approach to education that values critical thinking, creativity, and individual growth. This model shows that when teachers are supported and empowered, students thrive.
South Korea: Education as a National Priority South Korea places a high cultural value on education, with rigorous academic standards and a highly motivated student body. However, unlike the U.S., the country provides significant government investment in education, ensuring that public schools are well-funded and that there are resources available to support students. In addition, after-school programs and tutoring are common, helping to bridge gaps for students who may need extra assistance. This holistic approach to supporting students, both inside and outside of school, contrasts sharply with the U.S. approach of leaving many schools to fend for themselves without sufficient resources.
Japan: Focus on Social Emotional Learning and Collaborative Learning Japan’s education system is grounded in social emotional learning, emphasizing respect, discipline, and collaboration over competition. Schools focus not only on academic achievement but also on developing students’ interpersonal and social skills. Teachers work closely with students to create a supportive learning environment where collaboration is prioritized. This focus on emotional and social development creates a more balanced and well-rounded educational experience. In the U.S., social emotional learning is often sidelined in favor of academics and test scores, but Japan’s success shows that nurturing the whole child leads to better outcomes overall.
Canada: Supportive Communities and Inclusivity Canada’s approach to education is centered on inclusivity, ensuring that marginalized groups—whether they be Indigenous communities, newcomers, or children with disabilities—receive the support they need to succeed. The Canadian model places a heavy emphasis on community involvement in schools, and local governments play a key role in ensuring that educational programs are tailored to meet the unique needs of their populations. This inclusive, community-driven approach contrasts with the U.S. focus on market-driven reforms and privatization, showing that investing in public education for all students pays off in the long run.
The Way Forward Reversing this trend requires a fundamental shift in priorities, which are unlikely to happen in the near term in the United States of America. But it could happen in individual states that value justice and fairness and are willing to lead.
Policymakers must commit to fully funding public education, reforming assessment methods, supporting teachers, and addressing social inequalities that impact learning. Communities must also demand accountability from leaders and support initiatives that uplift students rather than punish them for systemic failures.
Looking beyond our borders, Finland, South Korea, Japan, and Canada offer valuable lessons on how to create equitable, supportive, and high-performing educational systems. These countries demonstrate that with the right priorities—such as teacher respect, equality of opportunity, community involvement, and a broader definition of success—educational systems can overcome even the deepest challenges.
The Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) champions the rights of academic workers and critically examines the changing landscape of work in higher education, connecting it to broader economic trends
Focus on Adjunct Faculty and Labor Conditions:
HEI frequently highlights the precarious working conditions of adjunct faculty (grad assistants, contingent instructors, and researchers) who make up a significant portion of the teaching workforce in higher education, especially in online programs. It draws attention to issues such as low pay, lack of job security, limited benefits, and the increasing reliance on contingent labor in academia. This coverage exposes the exploitation of academic workers and its impact on educational quality.
Connection Between Education and Employment:
The Higher Education Inquirer explores the link between higher education and the job market, questioning whether certain programs adequately prepare students for gainful employment. It raises concerns about "hypercredentialism," where degrees become mere "tickets to be punched" without necessarily leading to meaningful work or sufficient income to repay student loans. HEI investigates the job placement rates of graduates from different types of institutions, particularly for-profit colleges and online programs, and highlights instances where these rates may be misleading or inflated.
Impact of Technology on Work:
The Higher Education Inquirer examines how technology is changing the nature of work, both within and outside of higher education. It discusses the rise of the "gig economy" and the increasing prevalence of precarious employment in the tech sector and related industries. The publication explores the potential for automation and artificial intelligence to displace human workers, raising concerns about job security and the future of work. This technological shift is often driven by corporate interests, which HEI critically examines.
Critique of Corporate Influence and Profit-Driven Models:
HEI is critical of the increasing influence of corporations and profit-driven models in higher education and the broader economy. We argue that the pursuit of profit often comes at the expense of workers' rights, job quality, and the overall well-being of individuals. This critique extends to the "tech bro" culture and its emphasis on maximizing profits and technological advancement, often without regard for the social and economic consequences.
Advocacy for Workers and a More Equitable Economy:
The Higher Education Inquirer advocates for fair labor practices, decent wages, and greater economic equality. It supports efforts to organize workers and challenge exploitative practices in various industries, including higher education. The publication promotes a more human-centered approach to work, emphasizing the importance of meaningful employment, job security, and a balance between work and life.
The Higher Education Inquirer provides significant coverage of
labor strikes, particularly those within the higher education sector.
HEI offers detailed
accounts of specific labor strikes, providing context, timelines, and
analysis of the issues at stake. For example, they've covered:
Focus on the Underlying Issues: The Higher Education Inquirer goes beyond simply reporting on the events of a strike. They delve into the root causes, such as: low wages and inadequate benefits for academic workers (including graduate students, adjuncts, and other staff), job insecurity and the increasing reliance on contingent labor, issues related to fair contracts, bargaining in good faith, and protection of union activity, and the impact of university policies and management decisions on workers' rights and well-being.
Highlighting the Voices of Workers:
HEI often includes the
perspectives and experiences of the striking workers themselves, giving
them a platform to share their stories and explain their reasons for
striking. This humanizes the issues and provides a more personal
understanding of the impact of labor disputes.
Connecting Strikes to Broader Trends
The Higher Education Inquirer connects individual strikes to larger trends in higher education and the economy, such as: The increasing corporatization of universities. The rise of precarious employment and the gig economy. The growing gap between executive compensation and worker wages. The impact of austerity measures and budget cuts on public institutions.
Advocacy for Workers' Rights and Collective Action
HEI
supports the right of workers to organize and strike for better working
conditions. They frame labor strikes as a legitimate and necessary tool
for workers to exercise their power and demand fair treatment.
The Higher Education Inquirer views the nature of work as an integral part of the larger discussion about higher education. It recognizes that education is often linked to employment outcomes and that the quality of work available to graduates is a crucial factor in determining the value of a degree. By examining the working conditions of academic staff, the connection between education and employment, and the broader impact of technology and corporate influence on the labor market, the Higher Education Inquirer provides a comprehensive and critical perspective on the nature of work in the 21st century.
This is what AI told us about its own limitations.
1. Illusion of Learning: Teachers may perceive an illusion of progress due to improved homework scores when students use ChatGPT. A study in Turkey found that while homework scores increased with ChatGPT use, final exam performance actually decreased by 17% for students using unprompted ChatGPT[4], that is, without guiding prompts, simply navigating it on their own]. This suggests that teachers might observe apparent progress that doesn't translate to actual learning.
2. Overestimation of Knowledge: Students using ChatGPT may experience "Illusory Knowledge," where they believe they've learned more than they actually have[4]. This could lead teachers to overestimate class progress based on students' self-reported understanding [[I have personally experienced this while teaching -- student head nods in synch with my points -- only to learn later that this was a student reflex to pacify the teacher. As a teacher, I find this befuddling.]]
3. Reduced Critical Thinking: Teachers might notice a decline in students' critical thinking and problem-solving abilities due to overreliance on ChatGPT[6]. This could create a false impression of progress in content knowledge while masking deficits in crucial cognitive skills.
4. Difficulty in Assessment: The use of ChatGPT poses challenges for teachers in accurately assessing student abilities, potentially leading to a skewed perception of class progress[1]. [[Yes!]]
It's important to note that research on this specific aspect of teacher perception is limited, and more studies are needed to fully understand the phenomenon of perceived illusory progress in classrooms using ChatGPT.
Other Possible negative effects of ChatGPT usage include:
1. Cognitive thinning: ChatGPT usage may lead to a reduction in students' cognitive efforts and critical thinking skills. Students who rely heavily on ChatGPT for academic tasks may experience a decline in their ability to think critically and solve problems independently[1][2]. [[ChatGPT encourages a decline in cognitive development.]]
2. Memory loss: Research has found a concerning link between ChatGPT usage and memory loss in students. As students rely on the AI to quickly answer questions, they may reduce their own cognitive efforts, resulting in poor memory retention[2][4]. [[Surprisingly, there are lots of studies on this. Memory loss in adults is linked to dementia. What about kids?]]
3. Procrastination: Students who use ChatGPT frequently are more likely to procrastinate on their academic tasks. This may be due to the ease with which they can obtain information or complete assignments using the AI tool[2][6]. [[Undermines the development of time management skills.]]
4. Declining academic performance: Studies have shown a correlation between ChatGPT usage and a drop in GPA. This suggests that while the tool may make schoolwork easier in the short term, it may negatively impact overall academic performance[2][4]. [[I don't get this. Failing students now have a proverbial army they can muster at a moment's notice -- unless (below) they are too poor to access the technology?]]
5. Reduced cognitive load: While ChatGPT can ease students' cognitive load during research tasks, this comes at the expense of developing stronger arguments and critical thinking skills. Students using ChatGPT tend to produce weaker arguments compared to those using traditional research methods like Google[8].
These effects suggest a "thinning out of developmental cognitive strands" in the classroom, as students may become overly reliant on AI tools at the expense of developing crucial cognitive and academic skills. This trend could potentially lead to a less intellectually robust learning environment if not properly managed.
Since the widespread adoption of AI in education, several effects on both teachers and students have worsened in regard to the online delivery of instruction and assessment:
1. Academic dishonesty: The use of ChatGPT for cheating has become more prevalent and sophisticated. Over 25% of teachers have caught students using ChatGPT to cheat, leading to increased time spent on checking for AI plagiarism[5].
2. Decline in critical thinking: Students' overreliance on ChatGPT has led to a more significant decrease in critical thinking and problem-solving skills. This effect is particularly concerning in subjects requiring complex analysis, such as literature, history, and philosophy[1][2].
3. Reduced creativity: The ease of generating content with ChatGPT has further diminished students' ability to express original ideas and perspectives, leading to more formulaic and less creative work[1][5].
4. Widening equity gaps: The introduction of AI tools has exacerbated existing inequalities, as not all students have equal access to or can afford AI tools like ChatGPT, creating an unfair advantage for those who do[1].
5. Increased cognitive offloading: Studies have shown a more pronounced decline in memory retention and independent learning as students increasingly rely on AI for information retrieval and task completion[1][2].
6. Compromised learning outcomes: The overuse of ChatGPT has led to a more significant negative impact on educational support and reduced social interaction between students and faculty, affecting the overall learning experience[2].
7. Challenges in assessment: Teachers are facing greater difficulties in accurately assessing students' knowledge and understanding due to the prevalence of AI-generated work[1][5].
8. Increased workload for teachers: Educators are spending more time revamping lesson plans to be "AI-proof" and developing new strategies to maintain academic integrity[5]. [[To say nothing about time wasted trying to catch cheaters and making the accusations stick? Why bother ....]]
9. Erosion of research skills: Students' ability to conduct independent research and critically evaluate sources has further deteriorated due to the convenience of AI-generated responses[2][4].
10. Perpetuation of biases: The increased use of ChatGPT has led to more instances of unintentional biases being reinforced in educational settings, as the AI may generate responses that reflect prejudices or imbalances present in its training data[2].
Regarding similar effects of online instructional delivery, even BEFORE the adoption of AI: Many of the effects attributed to ChatGPT in education were already observed in online learning environments before the widespread adoption of AI, albeit to varying degrees:
1. Reduced human interaction: Online education has long grappled with the challenge of maintaining meaningful teacher-student and student-student interactions. This issue predates AI adoption, with concerns about social isolation and decreased engagement being prevalent in early online learning research[3][6].
2. Changes in assessment methods: The shift to online learning necessitated changes in assessment strategies to combat academic dishonesty, a challenge that existed before AI but has been exacerbated by it[1].
3. Time-saving for teachers: Learning Management Systems (LMS) and other educational technologies have been assisting teachers with tasks like grading and content delivery for years, though not to the extent that AI now promises[2].
4. Equity issues: The digital divide and unequal access to technology have been persistent challenges in online education, mirroring current concerns about AI accessibility[1][7].
5. Privacy concerns: Data privacy and security issues have been central to online education discussions long before AI entered the picture[1][4].
6. Potential for personalized learning: Adaptive learning systems, precursors to AI-driven personalization, have been a feature of online education for some time[5].
7. Risk of overreliance on technology: This concern has been present since the early days of educational technology integration, though AI intensifies it[1].
8. Impact on critical thinking skills: There have been ongoing debates about how online learning affects the development of critical thinking skills, a concern now amplified with AI[1][5].
9. Transformation of teaching roles: Online education has been gradually shifting the role of teachers from lecturers to facilitators, a trend that AI is accelerating[2][7].
10. Need for teacher training: The transition to online teaching has always required professional development, similar to the current need for AI-related training[8].
While many of these effects were present in online education before AI, the introduction of AI has generally intensified and accelerated these trends. The key difference lies in the scale, speed, and sophistication that AI brings to these existing challenges and opportunities in online education.
ChatGPT has introduced several negative changes to the role of teachers in the classroom:
1. Increased workload: Teachers are spending more time checking for AI plagiarism and revamping lesson plans to be "AI-proof"[4]. This additional burden takes away from time that could be spent on more meaningful educational activities.
2. Diminished teacher-student interaction: The use of ChatGPT for educational support can reduce opportunities for face-to-face interactions between students and faculty, potentially affecting the learning experience and social aspects of education[1].
3. Challenges in assessment: Teachers face difficulties in accurately assessing students' knowledge and understanding when AI tools are used to complete assignments[2]. This complicates the evaluation process and may lead to inaccurate assessments of student progress.
4. Shift in pedagogical focus: Educators are forced to adapt their teaching methods to counteract the negative effects of AI tools, potentially moving away from traditional teaching approaches that may still hold value[4].
5. Ethical dilemmas: Teachers must navigate new ethical challenges related to AI use in education, including issues of academic integrity and equitable access to technology[2][3].
6. Potential overreliance on AI: There is a risk that teachers might start relying on AI tools before developing in-depth knowledge about teaching and classroom management, potentially compromising the quality of education[7].
7. Reduced emphasis on critical thinking: As AI tools can provide quick answers, teachers may find it challenging to encourage students to engage in deep, critical thinking processes[1][2].
8. Perpetuation of biases: Teachers must be vigilant about the potential biases in AI-generated content, which could inadvertently reinforce stereotypes or prejudices in the classroom[1][3].
These changes highlight the complex challenges teachers face in integrating AI tools like ChatGPT into education while maintaining the quality and integrity of the learning experience.
