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  • The Supreme Court should strike down Colorado’s ban on ‘conversion therapy.’ Here’s why.

    The Supreme Court should strike down Colorado’s ban on ‘conversion therapy.’ Here’s why.

    Last week, the Supreme Court heard oral argument in Chiles v. Salazar, a First Amendment challenge to Colorado’s ban on “conversion therapy” — that is, counseling intended to change their gender identity or attraction to someone of the same sex. The case has attracted widespread attention because conversion therapy is deeply controversial. But the Court’s decision is poised to have significant consequences far beyond the practice — so to protect free expression, the Court should find the law unconstitutional.  

    That’s because Chiles hinges on one of the central questions in First Amendment jurisprudence: When do words become functionally indistinguishable from conduct? 

    The First Amendment broadly protects speech, including expressive actions like holding a sign or marching in a protest. But conduct — assault, for example, or drunk driving — is fair game for the government to regulate and/or criminalize. When speech is inextricably linked to certain conduct, it may lose First Amendment protection. 

    The classic example is incitement — speech intended to and likely to result in imminent lawless action. Because the words are so closely tied to the immediate crime that’s all but certain to result, incitement isn’t protected by the First Amendment. That’s a high bar to meet, because we Americans value freedom of speech and are rightly wary of government control. 

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    In the wake of political violence, calls to criminalize rhetoric are growing louder. But Brandenburg v. Ohio set the bar — and it’s a high one.


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    But deciding exactly where to draw the line between speech and conduct can be sharply contested — as in Kaley Chiles’ case. 

    Conversion therapy has a long, painful history. For many years, being anything other than “straight” was socially taboo and widely criminalized; until 1974, homosexuality was listed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. Attempts to “cure” people of their sexuality or gender identity were widespread and took a variety of forms, including the use of electric shocks or chemicals. Now, groups like the American Psychiatric Association, the American Counseling Association, and the American Medical Association oppose conversion therapy, linking it to negative mental health outcomes and even suicide. And today Colorado is one of 27 states that ban counselors from engaging in conversion therapy with minors. 

    But let’s say some conversion therapy doesn’t include shock treatments, medicine, or any physical conduct. Suppose instead it consists solely of a counselor and a client talking to each other. It would still be prohibited by Colorado’s law, which bans counselors from any practice that “attempts or purports to change an individual’s sexual orientation or gender identity, including efforts to change behaviors or gender expressions or to eliminate or reduce sexual or romantic attraction or feelings toward individuals of the same sex.” And the prohibition includes situations where individuals seek out such advice.

    That’s why Kaley Chiles, a counselor in Colorado, filed a First Amendment challenge to the law in September 2022. Chiles alleged the law prevented her from providing “licensed, ethical, and professional counseling that honors her clients’ autonomy and right to self-determination,” explaining that “speech is the only tool” she uses in her counseling. Consequently, she argued, banning her speech-only counseling violates the First Amendment.

    A federal district court disagreed. Rejecting Chiles’ challenge, the district court held the ban was a “public health law” that “regulates professional conduct rather than speech.” In other words, Chiles’ conversation was more than just talk, but rather treatment, and thus the law’s impact on Chiles’ ability to communicate with clients was “incidental to the professional conduct it regulates.” 

    Talk therapy is speech. And when the government prohibits speech because it doesn’t like the views being expressed, it violates the First Amendment.

    Chiles appealed to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit, arguing the district court got it wrong by treating her counseling as “medical treatment” instead of “a client-directed conversation consisting entirely of speech.” But the Tenth Circuit affirmed the district court. It concluded that Colorado’s law “does not regulate expression,” but rather “the provision of a therapeutic modality — carried out through use of verbal language — by a licensed practitioner authorized by Colorado to care for patients.” 

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    So Chiles sought review by the Supreme Court of the United States. She asked the Court to resolve the split between the circuit courts of appeal — with the Ninth and now Tenth Circuits treating conversion therapy bans as permissible regulations of professional speech, and the Eleventh Circuit on the other side. (A 2014 Third Circuit case involving New Jersey’s ban on conversion therapy rejected the “counter-intuitive conclusion” that a counselor’s talk therapy with clients constitutes “conduct.”) 

    At base, Chiles asked the Court to separate regulable conduct from protected speech. The Court agreed to hear her case — and at oral argument last week, the justices focused on exactly that question.

    In response to a question from Justice Jackson, for example, exploring what differentiates Chiles from “a medical professional who has exactly the same goals, exactly the same interests, and would just be prescribing medication for that rather than her talking with the client,” James Campbell, Chiles’ counsel, replied: “Because this involves a conversation,” not conduct. If the “treatment” at issue “consists only of speech, then it doesn’t trigger the speech-incidental-to-conduct doctrine.” 

    Campbell emphasized that Chiles’ therapy is different from medical practices involving conduct, characterizing her interactions with clients as “an ongoing, active dialogue where she’s helping them to explore their goals, and that absolutely has to be protected by the First Amendment.” That’s an important point. And it’s worth emphasizing that Chiles’ clients seek out her help; there’s no deception involved. As Chiles put it in her complaint, she “sits down with her clients and talks to them about their goals, objectives, religious or spiritual beliefs, values, desires, and identity to help them (1) explore and understand their feelings and (2) formulate methods of counseling that will most benefit them.”

    When Justice Kagan and Chief Justice Roberts pressed Campbell on the same point, he readily granted that if Chiles’ practice involved more than talk therapy — “administering drugs, performing procedures, conducting examinations” — the analysis would be different. If Chiles’ speech was “describing how to take the medication,” for example, it would properly be considered incidental to the conduct of prescribing medication. 

    But Colorado’s law regulates Chiles’ speech — and as some justices noted, it does so on the basis of viewpoint. Treating speech differently on the basis of viewpoint is anathema to the First Amendment, which bars the government from placing a thumb on the scale in favor of certain beliefs while punishing others. 

    In an exchange with Shannon Stevenson, Colorado’s solicitor general, Justice Alito argued the law applies unequally, sketching out a hypothetical to illustrate his point: 

    So, in the first situation, an adolescent male comes to a licensed therapist and says he’s attracted to other males, but he feels uneasy and guilty with those feelings, he wants to end or lessen them, and he asks for the therapist’s help in doing so. 

    The other situation is a similar adolescent male comes to a licensed therapist, says he’s attracted to other males, feels uneasy and guilty about those feelings, and he wants the therapist’s help so he will feel comfortable as a gay young man. 

    It seems to me . . . your statute dictates opposite results in those two situations based on the view — based on the viewpoint expressed. One viewpoint is the viewpoint that a minor should be able to obtain talk therapy to overcome same-sex attraction if that’s what he — or he or she wants. And the other is the viewpoint that the minor should not be able to obtain talk therapy to overcome same-sex attraction even if that is what he or she wants.

    “Looks like blatant viewpoint discrimination,” concluded the justice. 

    Justice Kagan echoed Justice Alito’s concern. “If a doctor says, I know you identify as gay and I’m going to help you accept that, and another doctor says, I know you identify as gay and I’m going to help you to change that, and one of those is permissible and the other is not,” she suggested, “that seems like viewpoint discrimination in the way we would normally understand viewpoint discrimination.” 

    Relatedly, Justice Barrett and Justice Gorsuch pressed Stevenson on whether other states could pass a “mirror image” law that, as Justice Gorsuch put it, “prohibits any attempt to affirm changes of gender identity or sexual orientation.” In response to questioning from Justice Gorsuch, Stevenson conceded that under Colorado’s position, a state in the 1970s would not have violated the First Amendment by passing a law prohibiting a “regulated licensed professional from affirming homosexuality.” And Justice Barrett asked whether a state could simply “pick a side” after Stevenson argued Colorado’s law should receive less judicial scrutiny than a hypothetical mirror image law would receive. “Counsel, it’s pretty important that I think about how this would apply to cases down the road,” said Justice Barrett. 

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    Justice Barrett’s focus on the possible ramifications of the Court’s ruling is apt, because Chiles’ case raises an even bigger question than whether bans on conversion therapy are constitutional. It asks the Court to draw a clearer line delineating conduct and speech in the professional context. That’s important, because both Colorado’s law and the lower courts’ rulings blur that line in ways that are ripe for abuse. 

    To be sure, attempts to recast protected speech as punishable conduct are evergreen, and this is not unfamiliar territory for the Supreme Court. Back in 2018, the Court warned that “regulating the content of professionals’ speech ‘pose[s] the inherent risk that the Government seeks not to advance a legitimate regulatory goal, but to suppress unpopular ideas or information.’” And some lower courts have rightly rejected exactly government attempts to do just that. 

    In 2002, for example, the Ninth Circuit blocked enforcement of a federal government policy threatening doctors who discussed medical marijuana with their patients with the loss of the ability to prescribe drugs. As the Ninth Circuit noted, doctors “must be able to speak frankly and openly to patients,” and restrictions on their ability to do so “strike at core First Amendment interests of doctors and patients.” 

    And just two years ago, a federal district court ruled a California law that defined “unprofessional conduct” for doctors to include efforts to “disseminate misinformation or disinformation related to COVID-19” to be likely unconstitutional. The court found the law’s terms were impermissibly vague — noting, for example, that the state was unable to demonstrate that “‘scientific consensus’ has any established technical meaning.”  

    But if the Supreme Court upholds Colorado’s law, these rulings could be in doubt. A win for Colorado would embolden government actors to impose broad viewpoint-based restrictions on a wide variety of professional speech disguised as regulations on “conduct.”

    Your right to talk freely with your counselor or your doctor shouldn’t depend on what state you’re in.

    That possibility should worry everyone, no matter your views on conversion therapy. As several justices pointed out during oral argument, this government power could just as easily be wielded in ways that proponents of conversion therapy bans would find objectionable. As Reason senior editor Elizabeth Nolan Brown noted, a ruling upholding Colorado’s law would “pave the way for talk therapy restrictions based on conservative views of sexuality and gender, too.” 

    She’s right. It’s too easy to imagine a red-and-blue patchwork of state bans barring counselors from either conversion therapy, on one side, or gender affirmation, on the other. Same for conversations about abortion — or vaccines, or marijuana, or assisted suicide, or any number of culture war flashpoints. But your right to talk freely with your counselor or your doctor shouldn’t depend on what state you’re in. The government shouldn’t be able to rule some subjects out of bounds, impeding professionals’ ability to meet a client’s individual needs. 

    It’s important to remember that new, viewpoint-based laws aren’t necessary for imposing consequences against professionals who harm their clients. That’s what licensure, standards of care, and malpractice suits are for. If a professional in Colorado or California engages in professional misconduct, they may properly be punished.

    But talk therapy is speech. And when the government prohibits speech because it doesn’t like the views being expressed, it violates the First Amendment. The Court should strike down Colorado’s law.

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  • When young girls pay the cost of climate change

    When young girls pay the cost of climate change

    Jaffarabad, Balochistan: When floodwaters swept through Shaista’s village in 2022, they didn’t just take her family’s home and farmland, they also took away her childhood. Just 14 years old, Shaista was married off to a man twice her age in exchange for a small dowry. 

    Her father, a daily wage laborer, said it was the most painful decision he has ever made.

    “I didn’t want to do it,” he said, his eyes fixed on the cracked earth where his fields used to be. “But I have four other children to feed and no land to farm. We lost everything.”

    Stories like Shaista’s are becoming increasingly common across Balochistan, Pakistan’s poorest province. In 2022, devastating floods there driven by record-breaking monsoon rains and accelerated glacial melt linked to climate change, displaced over 1.5 million people.

    There is worldwide recognition that extreme weather events — not just floods, but drought, heatwaves, tornados and hurricanes — are becoming more frequent and less predictable as the planet warms. These events have devastating and long-term consequences for people in poor regions. 

    Young girls as assets 

    In districts like Jaffarabad and Chowki Jamali, the aftermath of the disaster has left families grappling with deepening poverty, food insecurity and crushing debt. For many, marrying off their young daughters is no longer just a tradition, it’s a form of survival.

    A 2023 survey by the Provincial Disaster Management Authority reported a 15% spike in underage marriages in flood-affected regions. Child rights activists warn that these numbers likely underestimate the scale of the crisis, as most cases go unreported.

    “In flood-hit areas, families are exchanging their daughters to repay loans, buy food or simply reduce the number of mouths to feed,” said Maryam Jamali, a social worker with the Madad Community organization. “We’ve documented girls as young as 12 being married to men in their forties or fifties. This isn’t about tradition anymore, it’s desperation.”

    Bride prices, once a source of negotiation and family prestige, have plummeted due to the economic collapse. Activists report instances where girls are married for as little as 100,000 Pakistani rupees (roughly US$360), or in some cases, simply traded for livestock or debt forgiveness.

    “There are villages where girls are married off like assets being liquidated,” said Sikander Bizenjo, a co-founder of the Balochistan Youth Action Committee. “It’s not just a violation of rights, it’s a systemic failure rooted in climate vulnerability, poverty and legal gaps.”

    Marriage as debt payment

    In Usta Muhammad, another flood-ravaged district, 13-year-old Sumaira (name changed) was married off just weeks after her family’s mud house collapsed. Her parents received 300,000 rupees (a little over $1,000) from the groom’s family, which they used to rebuild their shelter and repay moneylenders. 

    Now pregnant, Sumaira, has dropped out of school and rarely leaves her husband’s house.

    “I miss my friends and school,” she told us softly. “I wanted to become a teacher. But my parents said there was no other way.”

    Child marriages like Shaista’s and Sumaira’s carry lasting consequences: early pregnancies that endanger both mother and child, disrupted education, psychological trauma and lifetime economic dependence. 

    A study following the 2010 floods found maternal mortality rates in some affected regions were as high as 381 per 100,000 live births, one of the highest in the world.

    “These girls are thrust into adult roles before they’re ready,” said Dr. Sameena Khan, a gynecologist in Quetta. “They face dangerous pregnancies, and many have no access to medical care. Their childhood ends the moment they say ‘yes’ or are forced to.”

    Giving girls an alternative to marriage

    The crisis unfolding in Balochistan is not unique. Across the world, climate shocks and civil strife are causing displacement that intensifies the risk of child marriage. 

    In 2024, News Decoder correspondent Katherine Lake Berz interviewed 14-year-old Ola, who nearly became a child bride after her Syrian family, displaced by war and facing severe poverty, began arranging her marriage to an older man. But before that coil happen, Ola was able to enroll in Alsama, a non-governmental organization that provides secondary education to refugee girls. In less than a year, she was reading English at A2 level.

    Alsama, which has more than 900 students across four schools and a waiting list of hundreds, has been able to show girls and their parents that education can offer an alternative path to security and dignity.

    In Balochistan, the absence of legal safeguards compounds the crisis. The Sindh province banned child marriage in 2013 under the Sindh Child Marriage Restraint Act which set the legal age at 18 for both girls and boys. But Balochistan has yet to enact a comparable law. 

    Nationally, Pakistan remains bound by the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child, which requires nations to end child marriage but enforcement remains patchy. And Pakistan is not one of the 16 countries that have also signed onto the Convention on Consent to Marriage, Minimum Age for Marriage and Registration of Marriages, which forbids marriage before a girl reaches puberty and requires complete freedom in the choice of a spouse. 

    Pakistan needs to reform its laws, said human rights lawyer Ali Dayan Hasan. “Without a clear provincial law and mechanisms to enforce it, girls are at the mercy of social pressure and economic collapse,” Hasan said. “We need legal reform that matches the urgency of the climate and humanitarian crises we are facing.”

    Attempts to introduce child marriage laws in Balochistan have repeatedly stalled amid political resistance and lack of awareness. Religious and tribal leaders argue that such laws interfere with cultural norms, while government officials cite limited administrative capacity in rural areas.

    Bringing an end to child marriages

    The solution, experts agree, is multi-pronged: legal reform, economic recovery and access to education.

    “We can’t end child marriage without rebuilding livelihoods,” said Bizenjo. “Families need food, land, healthcare and hope. If they can’t survive, they’ll continue to sacrifice their daughters.”

    Grassroots organizations like Madad and Sujag Sansar provide vocational training, safe shelters and legal awareness sessions in flood-affected areas. In one case, Sujag Sansar intervened to stop the marriage of 10-year-old Mehtab in Sindh, enrolling her in a sewing workshop instead.

    UNICEF estimates that child marriages could increase by 18% in Pakistan due to the 2022 floods, potentially reversing years of progress. The agency is urging governments to integrate child protection into climate adaptation and disaster relief programs.

    “Girls must not be forgotten in climate response plans,” said UNICEF Pakistan’s representative Abdullah Fadil. “Their future cannot be the cost of every flood, every drought, every crisis.”

    Back in Jaffarabad, Shaista now lives with her husband’s family in a two-room house. Her dreams of becoming a doctor have faded, replaced by household chores and looming motherhood. “I wanted to study more,” she said. “But now I have to take care of others.”

    Questions to consider:

    1. How does the marriage of young girls connect to climate change?

    2. How can societies end the practice of child marriage?

    3. Why do you think only 16 countries have signed the UN treaty that requires consent for marriages?

     

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  • Cellphone bans can help kids learn — but Black students are suspended more as schools make the shift

    Cellphone bans can help kids learn — but Black students are suspended more as schools make the shift

    Thirty states now limit or ban cellphone use in classrooms, and teachers are noticing children paying attention to their lessons again. But it’s not clear whether this policy — unpopular with students and a headache for teachers to enforce — makes an academic difference. 

    If student achievement goes up after a cellphone ban, it’s tough to know if the ban was the reason. Some other change in math or reading instruction might have caused the improvement. Or maybe the state assessment became easier to pass. Imagine if politicians required all students to wear striped shirts and test scores rose. Few would really think that stripes made kids smarter.

    Two researchers from the University of Rochester and RAND, a nonprofit research organization, figured out a clever way to tackle this question by taking advantage of cellphone activity data in one large school district in Florida, which in 2023 became the first state to institute school cellphone restrictions. The researchers compared schools that had high cellphone activity before the ban with those that had low cellphone usage to see if the ban made a bigger difference for schools that had high usage. 

    Indeed, it did. 

    Related: Our free weekly newsletter alerts you to what research says about schools and classrooms.

    Student test scores rose a bit more in high cellphone usage schools two years after the ban compared with schools that had lower cellphone usage to start. Students were also attending school more regularly. 

    The policy also came with a troubling side effect. The cellphone bans led to a significant increase in student suspensions in the first year, especially among Black students. But disciplinary actions declined during the second year. 

    “Cellphone bans are not a silver bullet,” said David Figlio, an economist at the University of Rochester and one of the study’s co-authors. “But they seem to be helping kids. They’re attending school more, and they’re performing a bit better on tests.”

    Figlio said he was “worried” about the short-term 16 percent increase in suspensions for Black students. What’s unclear from this data analysis is whether Black students were more likely to violate the new cellphone rules, or whether teachers were more likely to single out Black students for punishment. It’s also unclear from these administrative behavior records if students were first given warnings or lighter punishments before they were suspended. 

    The data suggest that students adjusted to the new rules. A year later, student suspensions, including those of Black students, fell back to what they had been before the cellphone ban.

    “What we observe is a rocky start,” Figlio added. “There was a lot of discipline.”

    The study, “The Impact of Cellphone Bans in Schools on Student Outcomes: Evidence from Florida,” is a draft working paper and has not been peer-reviewed. It was slated to be circulated by the National Bureau of Economic Research on Oct. 20 and the authors shared a draft with me in advance. Figlio and his co-author Umut Özek at RAND believe it is the first study to show a causal connection between cellphone bans and learning rather than just a correlation.

    The academic gains from the cellphone ban were small, less than a percentile point, on average. That’s the equivalent of moving from the 50th percentile on math and reading tests (in the middle) to the 51st percentile (still close to the middle), and this small gain did not emerge until the second year for most students. The academic benefits were strongest for middle schoolers, white students, Hispanic students and male students. The academic gains for Black students and female students were not statistically significant.  

    Related: Suspended for…what? 

    I was surprised to learn that there is data on student cellphone use in school. The authors of this study used information from Advan Research Corp., which collects and analyzes data from mobile phones around the world for business purposes, such as figuring out how many people visit a particular retail store. The researchers were able to obtain this data for schools in one Florida school district and estimate how many students were on their cellphones before and after the ban went into effect between the hours of 9 a.m. and 1 p.m.

    The data showed that more than 60 percent of middle schoolers, on average, were on their phones at least once during the school day before the 2023 ban in this particular Florida district, which was not named but described as one of the 10 largest districts in the country. (Five of the nation’s 10 largest school districts are in Florida.) After the ban, that fell in half to 30 percent of middle schoolers in the first year and down to 25 percent in the second year.

    Elementary school students were less likely to be on cellphones to start with and their in-school usage fell from about 25 percent of students before the ban to 15 percent after the ban. More than 45 percent of high schoolers were on their phones before the ban and that fell to about 10 percent afterwards.

    Average daily smartphone visits in schools, by year and grade level

    Average daily smartphone visits during regular school days (relative to teacher workdays without students) between 9am and 1pm (per 100 enrolled students) in the two months before and then after the 2023 ban took effect in one large urban Florida school district. Source: Figlio and Özek, October 2025 draft paper, figure 2C, p. 23.

    Florida did not enact a complete cellphone ban in 2023, but imposed severe restrictions. Those restrictions were tightened in 2025 and that additional tightening was not studied in this paper.

    Anti-cellphone policies have become increasingly popular since the pandemic, largely based on our collective adult gut hunches that kids are not learning well when they are consumed by TikTok and SnapChat. 

    This is perhaps a rare case in public policy, Figlio said, where the “data back up the hunches.” 

    Contact staff writer Jill Barshay at 212-678-3595, jillbarshay.35 on Signal, or [email protected].

    This story about cellphone bans was produced by The Hechinger Report, a nonprofit, independent news organization focused on inequality and innovation in education. Sign up for Proof Points and other Hechinger newsletters.

    The Hechinger Report provides in-depth, fact-based, unbiased reporting on education that is free to all readers. But that doesn’t mean it’s free to produce. Our work keeps educators and the public informed about pressing issues at schools and on campuses throughout the country. We tell the whole story, even when the details are inconvenient. Help us keep doing that.

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  • Reverse Transfer Policies Boost College Completion Rates

    Reverse Transfer Policies Boost College Completion Rates

    Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed | Remigiusz Gora/iStock/Getty Images

    It was legit: She was a beneficiary of the Colorado Re-Engaged Initiative (CORE), which draws on reverse-transfer policies to allow the state’s four-year institutions to award degrees to stopped-out students who have fulfilled the requirements of an associate of general studies degree.

    Created by state legislation in 2021, CORE seeks to reduce the share of the 700,000 plus students in the state who have completed some college credits but don’t hold a degree.

    “It has always been problematic for me to think that people could have gone three years, three and a half years to college and the highest credential that they have is a high school diploma,” said Angie Paccione, executive director of Colorado’s Department of Higher Education.

    For Varkevisser, getting recognized for her years’ worth of credit accumulation was simple; she just had to say yes to the email. “It came out of nowhere, but I have my college degree now,” Varkevisser said.

    Colorado isn’t the only state aiming to reduce the millions of individuals who fall in the some college, no degree population in the U.S. And reverse transfer—awarding an associate degree to students who have met the credit threshold—is a relatively simple way to do it, thanks to new technologies and state initiatives to streamline policies.

    But one barrier has tripped up colleges for over a decade: working with students to make them aware so they participate in these programs. In Colorado, for example, fewer than 5 percent of eligible students have opted in to CORE.

    “I can’t imagine why” a student wouldn’t opt in, Paccione said. “You’ve already paid money; you don’t have to do anything, all you have to do is call [the institution] up and say, ‘Hey, I understand I might be eligible for an associate degree.’ It takes a phone call, essentially.”

    Credits but No Credential

    In the 2010s, reverse transfer was a popular student success intervention, allowing students who transferred from a two-year to a four-year institution to pass their credits back to their community college to earn a credential.

    Experts say awarding an associate degree for credits acquired before a student hits the four-year degree threshold can support their overall success in and after college, because it provides a benchmark of progress. A 2018 report found that most community colleges students who transferred to another institution left their two-year college without a degree, putting them in limbo between programs with credits but no credential.

    Now, reverse-transfer policies are being applied to students who have enrolled at a four-year college and left before earning a degree, who often abandon a significant number of credits.

    The National Student Clearinghouse Research Center’s latest report on the some college, no credential (SCNC) population found that 7.2 percent of stopped-out students had achieved at least two years’ worth of full-time-equivalent enrollment over the past decade. In other words, 2.6 million individuals in the U.S. have completed two years’ worth of college credits but don’t hold a credential to prove it.

    In addition to Colorado, Florida, Maryland, Michigan, Missouri, Oregon and Texas are introducing or modifying policies to award associate degrees to stopped-out students who have earned enough credits. The trend reflects a renewed focus on better serving stopped-out students instead of simply pushing them to re-enroll.

    “What’s happening at the national level is that folks are recognizing that we’re still not seeing the completion that we want,” said Wendy Sedlak, the Lumina Foundation’s strategy director for research and evaluation. “It’s taking a long time to make headway, so nationally, people are looking back, and looking into what are those initiatives, what are those policies, what are those practices that have really helped us push ahead?”

    A stack of mail with a large no fold envelope.

    Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed | stphillips/iStock/Getty Images

    Obstacles to Implementation

    Reverse transfer, while simple on paper, faces a variety of hurdles at the state, institutional and individual levels.

    At the highest level, most universities cannot award associate degrees due to state legislation. Before CORE, Colorado universities were limited to being “dual mission” (awarding two- and four-year degrees) or awarding higher degrees, such as master’s or doctorates.

    There’s also a stigma around offering two-year degrees to students. Only eight universities are participating in CORE, because “some of the institutions don’t want to be associated with an associate degree,” Paccione said. “They pride themselves on the bachelor’s degree and they want to make sure students complete that.”

    Critics of reverse transfer claim that awarding students an associate degree if they fail to complete a bachelor’s gives them an incentive to stop out, but most of these programs require students to have left higher education for at least two years to be eligible for reverse transfer.

    Restrictions on student eligibility has further limited the number who can benefit from reverse-transfer programs.

    To earn an associate degree retroactively through traditional reverse-transfer processes, students have to begin their college journey at a two-year institution and earn at least one-quarter of their credits there. They are also required to take a certain number (typically 60 or more) and type of credits to fulfill requirements for the degree, whether that’s an associate of arts, science or general studies. So a student who completed 59 credits of primarily electives or upper-level credits in their major would not be able to earn the degree, for example.

    While 700,000 students in Colorado have earned some college credit but no degree, only about 30,000 residents have earned the minimum 70 credits at a four-year state university within the past 10 years that makes them eligible for CORE, according to the state.

    Most colleges require students to opt in to reverse transfer due to FERPA laws, meaning that students need to advocate for receiving their award and facilitate transcript data exchanges between institutions. This can further disadvantage those who are unfamiliar with their college’s bureaucratic processes or the hidden curriculum of higher education.

    In addition, getting up-to-date emails, addresses or phone numbers for students who were enrolled nearly a decade ago can be difficult for the institution.

    For some students, the opportunity may seem too good to be true.

    Peter Fritz, director of student transitions and degree completion initiatives at the Colorado Department of Higher Education, talked to CORE participants at their graduation ceremony in 2023 who—like Varkevisser’s partner—initially thought the program was a scam. Media attention and support from the governor have helped build trust in CORE. And the state’s Education Department continues to affirm messaging that this isn’t a giveaway or a money grab, but recognition of work already completed.

    Thousands of Colorado residents are eligible for CORE, but Varkevisser said she hasn’t heard of anyone in her community who’s taken advantage of it. “Actually, I am the one that’s telling everyone I know, and they go, ‘That’s crazy!’”

    A open envelope with several associate’s degrees sticking out.

    Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed

    Giving Students Degrees

    Between CORE’s launch in 2022 and January 2025, 1,032 stopped-out students earned associates degrees, according to Colorado’s education department.

    At Metropolitan State University of Denver, one of the Colorado institutions that opted in to CORE, when administrators began combing through institutional data to see which students would be eligible for the associate of general studies degree, they found 4,256 that could earn an A.G.S.

    Another few thousand were eligible for a different degree entirely. If students had completed 15 or more credits at the community college system, “you wouldn’t be eligible for us to award you anything,” said Shaun Schafer, associate vice president of curriculum academic effectiveness and policy development. “Guess what? It’s reverse transfer.”

    MSU Denver identified nearly 2,000 students who could receive a two-year degree from their community college. “We sent that back to the different institutions saying, ‘Hey, this person is actually eligible to reverse transfer and get an associate’s from you,’” Schafer said. “We can’t really do anything for them.”

    In 2024, 336 students accepted an A.G.S. from MSU Denver, just under 9 percent of those eligible. An additional 130 or so students had reached 120 credit hours or more, so the university offered to help them re-enroll to finish their degree, and 300 had resumed coursework at other institutions.

    National data shows policies like reverse transfer are making a dent in the “some college no degree” population by eliminating the barrier of re-enrollment to attain a credential. In the past year, about one in four SCNC students who earned a credential in the U.S. (15,500 students in total) did so without re-enrolling, according to National Student Clearinghouse data.

    In Colorado, a total of 2,100 SCNC students completed a credential during the 2023–24 academic year alone, and 800 of those did not need to re-enroll, NSC data shows.

    Some states, including Colorado, Michigan, Missouri and Oregon, require institutions to contact upward transfer students to make them aware of their reverse-transfer eligibility. In Texas, students consent to participating in reverse transfer when they fill out their application; they have to uncheck the box to opt out, giving universities leeway to enroll them in the process when they become eligible.

    “Students often don’t do optional,” Sedlak said. “When you create additional barriers, you’re not going to see things get done.”

    The first Summer Ceremony for Associate’s degrees on June 22, 2024, in the Tivoli Turnhalle.

    Alyson McClaran/MSU Denver

    The first Summer Ceremony for Associate’s Degrees on June 22, 2024, in the Tivoli Turnhalle.

    Leveraging Tech

    Some universities have implemented new reverse transfer policies that capture students while they’re still enrolled, utilizing technology to expedite the process.

    The University of Nebraska system, which includes the Lincoln, Omaha and Kearney campuses, implemented an automatically triggered reverse-transfer initiative in 2023. All eligible students need to do is respond to an email.

    “Rather than putting the responsibility on the students to do that work—most of whom are not going to do that work—the system thought it would be better to create a mechanism that would automatically notify students when the courses that they’ve taken have gotten to that threshold,” said Amy Goodburn, senior associate vice chancellor at UNL.

    To be eligible, students must complete at least 15 credits at a community college and then transfer to the University of Nebraska. The registrar’s office monitors a dashboard and, after confirming a student completed the appropriate number and type of credits for an associate degree, notifies the student. If the student responds to the email, the university processes the reverse transfer with the prior institution to confirm the associate degree.

    “We’re trying to take the need for students to be proactive off their backs,” Goodburn said.

    The process is not a heavy lift, Goodburn said, and it boosts the community college’s completion rate, making it mutually beneficial.

    Still, the uptake remains stubbornly low.

    At UNL, February 2025 data showed that 2,500 students were eligible to participate in reverse transfer, but only 10 percent have opted in. A reverse-transfer initiative in Tennessee a decade ago saw similar numbers; 7,500 were eligible, but only 1,755 students chose to participate and 347 degrees were awarded.

    “I’m curious about the other 90 percent, like, are they not doing it because they don’t want it on their transcript?” Goodburn said. “Or they’re just not reading their emails, which is often the case? Or is there some other reason?”

    The University of Montana is in the early stages of building its own process for the reverse transfer of stopped-out students. The institution has offered an associate of arts degree for years as part of Missoula College, an embedded two-year institution within the university. Now, through the Big Sky Finish initiative, officials will be able to retroactively award degrees to former students.

    Brian Reed, the University of Montana’s associate vice president for student success, has been leading the project, convening with stakeholders—including the president, the provost, Missoula College leaders and the registrar’s office—to develop the process. The goal, Reed said, is to address the some college, no degree population while also investing in state goals for economic development.

    Big Sky Finish hinges on a partnership with the ed-tech provider EAB, which has created a dashboard connecting various institutional data sets to identify which students are eligible for reverse transfer. The system highlights former students who have 60 credits or more that fulfill a general studies associate degree, as well as stop-outs who are mere credits away from meeting the requirement.

    So far, Montana staff have identified just 11 students who are eligible to earn an A.A. degree and 150 more who are a class or two short of the needed credits.

    A degree put inside of a frame.

    Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed | silverlining56/E+/Getty Images

    Putting Degrees to Work

    While CORE and similar initiatives are helping students earn a degree of value after leaving higher education, it’s less clear what impact associate degrees are having on students. Is it advancing their careers or getting them re-engaged in college?

    About 10 percent of Colorado’s stopped-out students have chosen to re-enroll in higher education to pursue their bachelor’s degree, Fritz said.

    For Varkevisser, receiving an A.G.S. degree provided the impetus to re-enroll and work toward a bachelor’s degree. The associate degree also gave her access to a variety of resources for alumni, including discounted tuition rates and career services.

    “We recognize that it may not be for everybody to do this as a bachelor’s completion model, but the advantage of having an associate over a high school diploma, I think, helps,” Paccione.

    But after students have their degrees, the career benefits and long-term implications for A.G.S. graduates are still murky. Median earnings of full-time, year-round workers with an associate degree are 18 percent higher than those with only a high school diploma, but still 35 percent lower than bachelor’s degree completers, according to the National Center for Education Statistics.

    In Colorado, the average high school graduate in their mid-20s will earn about $25,000 per year, whereas a graduate with an associate of general studies degree will earn closer to $34,000 per year, according to 2021 data.

    “There was an assumption that maybe an A.G.S. wasn’t really worth much, but the data we had on hand locally said there’s not really much difference financially and employment-wise between the different types of associate degrees,” Fritz said.

    “I still don’t really know what all [the A.G.S.] can do for me,” Varkevisser said. “I was never not going to go for it once I got the email and found out it was a real thing, but I don’t know what to do with it necessarily.” She’s considered other forms of employment that require an associate degree, such as a laboratory or X-ray technician, while she finishes her bachelor’s degree in mathematics.

    In Montana, there’s a slight wage premium for individuals who hold an associate degree compared to those with only a high school diploma, Reed said. An associate degree also opens doors in some career fields, such as bookkeeping.

    The University of Montana is hoping to partner with the city of Missoula to identify small businesses looking for credentialed talent so completers can have a career pathway to transition into .

    “I don’t think people are going into six-figure jobs after this,” Reed said. “But it’s creating a step toward something else for these folks. They get another job a little higher up, a little higher up, that prepares them for the next thing.”

    But an A.G.S. isn’t a great target for workers and it can’t guarantee further education, MSU Denver’s Schafer noted.

    “I hate to say it, but it’s a little bit of, it’s a lovely parting gift,” Schafer said. “Here, you have something that you can now show to the world. But how do I [as an administrator] build you on to the next thing when you’ve already stopped out? Maybe that’s the best hope. Even then, maybe it doesn’t work quite as magically as we want it to.”

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  • The Next Phase of the Guided Pathways Movement

    The Next Phase of the Guided Pathways Movement

    In recent years, hundreds of community colleges have embraced the guided pathways model, a sweeping set of large-scale reforms to better steer students through academic programs and boost completion rates at community colleges.

    Researchers at the Community College Research Center at Columbia University’s Teachers College first introduced plans for the reform movement in 2015 in a book called Redesigning America’s Community Colleges: A Clearer Path to Student Success. They called on colleges to adopt a wide range of practices to help students devise and follow academic plans through graduation, including mandatory academic and career planning for all students; programs organized by “meta-majors,” or fields of interest; and extra supports for students in college-level math and English courses.

    A decade later, CCRC researchers have come out with a follow-up, More Essential Than Ever: Community College Pathways to Educational and Career Success (Harvard Education Press, 2025), which recounts their 10 years of research on the progress and outcomes of guided pathways. The book also explores areas where they believe the model could grow, including looking beyond graduation rates to focus on students’ job outcomes, adopting more engaging recruitment and onboarding practices, and ensuring students leave college with specialized knowledge in their fields but also versatile skills that apply to different industries.

    Davis Jenkins, senior research scholar at CCRC and a co-author of More Essential Than Ever, spoke with Inside Higher Ed about the book’s prescription to community colleges for taking guided pathways to the next level.

    The conversation has been edited for length and clarity.

    Q: This book is the culmination of 10 years of research on guided pathways. What have been the most important lessons learned in that decade?

    A: The 10 years were really a learning experience, because the model for whole-college reform that Tom Bailey, Shanna Jaggars and I presented in Redesigning America’s Community Colleges in 2015 was very much theoretical. A lot of the ideas came out of four-year institutions, and maybe with the exception of Guttman Community College and others, no community college really had implemented these ideas. So, we’ve been learning along with the field. And you know, we’re impressed and humbled by the efforts by colleges in a very tough time, fiscally and otherwise, to really work on these efforts.

    And what we saw in the initial phase was it takes a long time to not just implement discrete interventions but to redesign whole parts of the student experience, from the start all the way through. But we saw that colleges that did focus on redesigning, not just one piece of the student experience but across the student experience, were able to achieve improvements in student early momentum and then, over the longer term, in completion rates.

    On one hand, it was important that colleges not just focus on one aspect, that they sort of changed the student experience throughout. But when we looked at particular practices, especially important was organizing advising, at least for continuing students, by career or academic field and then case managing those students’ progress based on students’ plans. It’s very important to have a plan for students, and students really want that plan.

    During this time, the environment changed, and community college enrollments, especially post–high school enrollments, continued to decline. There was a rise in focus on the value of a college degree, and while this was focused very much on four-year institutions—especially elite institutions—people were [also] questioning community colleges. Enrollment by older students is at historic lows. And even though community colleges have seen a huge increase in high school dual-enrollment students, they have been losing market share to public four-years for students right out of high school. So, there was this big focus on value. And we were able to observe and work with colleges as they adapted these completion-focused reforms to focus more on value.

    And the main part of the book is five chapters devoted to what we see as the frontiers for further improving community college student outcomes, which are focused on values.

    Q: Tell me more about that. In the book, you looked at how far this movement has come. How do you hope the guided pathways model continues to evolve?

    A: There are five areas where we see colleges now working to improve. First of all, they’ve got to make sure that their programs lead to jobs that pay at least a living wage—otherwise, it’s not going to be worth students enrolling in them—or [allow] transfer with no excess credits in the student’s major field of interest. Related to that, though, it’s not enough just to work with universities and employers to ensure your programs have value for employment and further education after completion. You’ve got to make sure that students are learning the kinds of skills that they’ll need in the workplace and for their education. And frankly, that was probably the area of least progress in the earlier work in guided pathways.

    Particularly important is making sure that students have a rich learning experience in their program foundation courses, the hard 101 courses. In the book, we profile both very large and small colleges that have really built in experiential learning for all students. So that’s No. 2.

    No. 3 is focusing on onboarding. Community colleges lose many students early on because they don’t engage them. And so, in the later part of our work on guided pathways, the more recent part, we focus very much on this onboarding process to ensure students are engaged about what they want to do and help them connect to people and have this inspiring learning experience, and then very, very importantly, help them develop a plan that will at least give them direction.

    No. 4 is building on that plan. There have been efforts around compressed courses and scheduling, but in the book, we say that colleges need to look at this very systematically. The canonical completion [rate] for community college is two years. They’re called two-year colleges. But in fact, hardly any students complete in two years, and it’s not reasonable to expect all students, even the majority of students, to [take] 15 credits. In the book, we’re seeing colleges take three years as a template. And we know that if you include summer courses, if you include J terms, if you compress your terms, students even attending part-time can complete their programs. And community college students have very little margin for error. It’s very important that they be able to take the courses they need when they need them.

    Then, finally, as you know, dual enrollment has become huge. And colleges have taken, in the past, a very laissez-faire approach to it, such as the students who participate are students who are already likely going to college. And that’s a good thing because that makes dual enrollment very popular among middle-class families, and that gives it political power. But it’s also been sort of random courses, gen eds, without much advising. For students already going to college who have good advising from their families or from their better-resourced schools, that’s fine. But we have created this idea of applying the guided pathways practices to dual-enrollment students, to build an on-ramp, to motivate students to want to continue their postsecondary education.

    Q: It seems like, in the book, there’s a tension between, on one hand, striving to set students on a clear career path, a career ladder, while also trying not to box them into a track or a skill set that’s too narrow. How do you think colleges can balance both?

    A: This has always been the tension with guided pathways. Early on, there was a lot of emphasis on structured pathways, making things much more like a technical program, like an occupational certificate program. Not knocking it; those kinds of programs are important. But you’ll notice throughout, we’re focused on broad learning, skills, communication [and] problem-solving, and that can only be done through active, contextualized learning.

    The goal of guided pathways is not to set a student on a career. Careers are changing. The goal is to get a student engaged, to feel like the institution cares about their future, connect them with faculty and other students, employers, people they never would have met before that. It’s not just about learning skills or knowledge. It’s about connecting with people, building confidence in taking a really hard course that makes you really work and think. Students don’t like it. They’re not used to it in K–12 education. On the other hand, there’s just so much research showing that that’s really important.

    And then the plan is not a plan for life, but a plan is a direction to get you a credential and then to build into that enough experience. We make this case throughout, including at the end, there’s still a need, and it’s well documented, for a broader education—including technical skills, obviously, and content knowledge, but really in engaging students in problem-solving, communication—because those are the human skills that employers are going to pay a premium for and that are needed for further education at the bachelor’s level and in life.

    Q: As you’ve been thinking through where you want the guided pathways model to go, what do you think are going to be the biggest obstacles or challenges to colleges getting there?

    A: Well, one thing is the rise of online students. On one hand, we’re not against online. But the question is, especially for students in foundation courses and for students in high school, how to do it in a way that is engaging students. We’re very skeptical of asynchronous online instruction. Maybe for older students, career students, that’s OK, but not for students taking a foundation course that really is hard and needs interaction.

    The other [challenge] is funding. Community colleges are already always relatively low funded. It varies greatly by state, but nationally, about 40 percent [of their funding] comes from states. The second highest [funding source] is tuition. Asking community colleges to turn out high-value programs and to do all this advising is expensive. Thus far, community colleges have done this by redeploying their existing resources, which is actually a good thing, because they, like every institution, have tended to become too siloed. But there’s a limit to which community colleges can do more with less, and particularly in these high-cost, high-value workforce areas, those are very expensive, and our STEM programs and the like.

    So, the cuts in federal funding are concerning because community colleges throughout the country have used them to develop new programs and to focus advising and other supports on students from groups that haven’t done well in higher ed. Over the longer term, we’re concerned, since higher education is the biggest discretionary pot in about every state budget, the cuts to Medicaid and other fiscal pressures on states are likely to put big pressure on funding for higher education, of which community colleges, even compared to public regional four-years, are heavily dependent.

    One more thing is that guided pathways is basically asking colleges to take this very successful model that was the marvel of the world, that really helped broad-access education, and to change it—and to do so, by the way, with no money, or not enough money. We do a lot of work with colleges all over the country. We’ve done a lot of work with rural colleges. And in many ways, they have been facing the pressures that all higher ed is facing now for a long time: declining population, the challenge of helping students get living-wage jobs. [But] there’s something about community colleges. They just dig right in. Despite the challenges, I’m optimistic.

    It’s been humbling to go all around the country, working in so many different places. I don’t see them giving up on this. Despite all the challenges, I think, especially given their product, the fact that they’re local, the fact that they’re connected to local employers, and especially now, have this opportunity to build a better pipeline from schools, and are doing that. I think community colleges are going to rise to the challenge here.

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  • Normalize the Gap Year (opinion)

    Normalize the Gap Year (opinion)

    We’re two admissions leaders working to reframe how families and institutions think about the gap year. I’m Carol, a former college admissions dean with more than 20 years in higher education, and I’m also a therapist who works with teens. My co-author, Becky Mulholland, is director of first-year admission and operations at the University of Rhode Island. Together, we’re building a new kind of gap year model, one that centers on intention, purpose and career readiness for all.

    The gap year concept is overdue for a cultural reset. Most popular options on the market focus on travel, outdoor adventure or service learning, but they rarely emphasize self-exploration in conjunction with career readiness or curiosity about the future of work. The term itself is widely misunderstood and sometimes dismissed. Despite its reputation as a luxury for the privileged, it’s often the families juggling cost, stress and uncertainty who stand to gain the most from a well-supported pause.

    For many families, college is the most expensive decision they’ll ever make. Taking time to pause, reflect and plan shouldn’t be seen as risky—it should be seen as wise. At 17 or 18, it’s a lot to ask a young person to know what they want to do with the rest of their life. A 2017 federal data report found that about 30 percent of undergrads who had declared majors changed their major at least once, and about 10 percent changed majors more than once. These shifts often lead to extra courses and sometimes an extra semester or even a year. That’s a lot of wasted money for families who could have benefited from a more intentional pause.

    And yet for many parents, the phrase “gap year” still stirs anxiety. They imagine their child lying on a couch for three months, doing nothing, or worse, never learning anything useful and losing all momentum to return to school. The idea feels foreign, risky and hard to explain. They don’t know what to tell their friends or extended family. We push back on that fear and work to normalize the idea of intentional, structured time off. It’s not just for the elite—it needs to be reclaimed as a culturally acceptable norm. That’s why we champion paid, structured earn-while-you-learn pathways such as youth apprenticeships, paid internships, stipend-backed fellowships and employer-sponsored projects that keep income stable while skills grow.

    We personally promote the value of intentional pauses when talking with families and prospective students about college, helping them reframe what a year of growth and clarity can mean. We also strongly support programs with built-in pause requirements before graduate school. I’ve read thousands of applications as a dean and witnessed how powerful that year can be when it’s well guided.

    Gap years, when framed and supported correctly, can foster self-discovery, emotional growth and direction. But the gap year industry itself also needs to evolve. The industry should move toward models that prioritize intentional career exploration, rooted not only in personal growth and self-awareness but in helping students find a sense of fulfillment in their future careers and lives. If colleges acknowledged the value of these experiences more visibly in their advising models and admissions narratives, they could relieve pressure on families and students and potentially reduce dropout rates and improve long-term outcomes.

    We believe it’s time for higher education to actively support and normalize the gap year, not as an elite detour, but as a practical and often necessary path to college and career success. It’s time to give students and their families permission to pause.

    Carol Langlois is chief academic officer at ESAI, a generative AI platform for college applicants, and a therapist who specializes in working with teens. She previously served in dean, director and vice provost roles in college admissions.

    Becky Mulholland is director of first-year admission and operations at the University of Rhode Island.

    Becky and Carol both serve on the Policy Subcommittee of the National Association for College Admission Counseling’s AI in College Admission Special Interest Group.

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  • Framework for GenAI in Graduate Career Development (opinion)

    Framework for GenAI in Graduate Career Development (opinion)

    In Plato’s Phaedrus, King Thamus feared writing would make people forgetful and create the appearance of wisdom without true understanding. His concern was not merely about a new tool, but about a technology that would fundamentally transform how humans think, remember and communicate. Today, we face similar anxieties about generative AI. Like writing before it, generative AI is not just a tool but a transformative technology reshaping how we think, write and work.

    This transformation is particularly consequential in graduate education, where students develop professional competencies while managing competing demands, research deadlines, teaching responsibilities, caregiving obligations and often financial pressures. Generative AI’s appeal is clear; it promises to accelerate tasks that compete for limited time and cognitive resources. Graduate students report using ChatGPT and similar tools for professional development tasks, such as drafting cover letters, preparing for interviews and exploring career options, often without institutional guidance on effective and ethical use.

    Most AI policies focus on coursework and academic integrity; professional development contexts remain largely unaddressed. Faculty and career advisers need practical strategies for guiding students to use generative AI critically and effectively. This article proposes a four-stage framework—explore, build, connect, refine—for guiding students’ generative AI use in professional development.

    Professional Development in the AI Era

    Over the past decade, graduate education has invested significantly in career readiness through dedicated offices, individual development plans and co-curricular programming—for example, the Council of Graduate Schools’ PhD Career Pathways initiative involved 75 U.S. doctoral institutions building data-informed professional development, and the Graduate Career Consortium, representing graduate-focused career staff, grew from roughly 220 members in 2014 to 500-plus members across about 220 institutions by 2022.

    These investments reflect recognition that Ph.D. and master’s students pursue diverse career paths, with fewer than half of STEM Ph.D.s entering tenure-track positions immediately after graduation; the figure for humanities and social sciences also remains below 50 percent over all.

    We now face a different challenge: integrating a technology that touches every part of the knowledge economy. Generative AI adoption among graduate students has been swift and largely unsupervised: At Ohio State University, 48 percent of graduate students reported using ChatGPT in spring 2024. At the University of Maryland, 77 percent of students report using generative AI, and 35 percent use it routinely for academic work, with graduate students more likely than undergraduates to be routine users; among routine student users, 38 percent said they did so without instructor guidance.

    Some subskills, like mechanical formatting, will matter less in this landscape; higher-order capacities—framing problems, tailoring messages to audiences, exercising ethical discernment—will matter more. For example, in a 2025 National Association of Colleges and Employers survey, employers rank communication and critical thinking among the most important competencies for new hires, and in a 2024 LinkedIn report, communication was the most in-demand skill.

    Without structured guidance, students face conflicting messages: Some faculty ban AI use entirely, while others assume so-called digital natives will figure it out independently. This leaves students navigating an ethical and practical minefield with high stakes for their careers. A framework offers consistency and clear principles across advising contexts.

    We propose a four-stage framework that mirrors how professionals actually learn: explore, build, connect, refine. This approach adapts design thinking principles, the iterative cycle of prototyping and testing, to AI-augmented professional development. Students rapidly generate options with AI support, test them in low-stakes environments and refine based on feedback. While we use writing and communication examples throughout for clarity, this framework applies broadly to professional development.

    Explore: Map Possibilities and Surface Gaps

    Exploring begins by mapping career paths, fellowship opportunities and professional norms, then identifying gaps in skills or expectations. A graduate student can ask a generative AI chatbot to infer competencies from their lab work or course projects, then compare those skills to current job postings in their target sector to identify skills they need to develop. They can generate a matrix of fellowship opportunities in their field, including eligibility requirements, deadlines and required materials, and then validate every detail on official websites. They can ask AI to describe communication norms in target sectors, comparing the tone and structure of academic versus industry cover letters—not to memorize a script, but to understand audience expectations they will need to meet.

    Students should not, however, rely on AI-generated job descriptions or program requirements without verification, as the technology may conflate roles, misrepresent qualifications or cite outdated information and sources.

    Build: Learn Through Iterative Practice

    Building turns insight into artifacts and habits. With generative AI as a sounding board, students can experiment with different résumé architectures for the same goal, testing chronological versus skills-based formats or tailoring a CV for academic versus industry positions. They can generate detailed outlines for an individual development plan, breaking down abstract goals into concrete, time-bound actions. They can devise practice tasks that address specific growth areas, such as mock interview questions for teaching-intensive positions or practice pitches tailored to different funding audiences. The point is not to paste in AI text; it is to lower the barriers of uncertainty and blank-page intimidation, making it easier to start building while keeping authorship and evidence squarely in the student’s hands.

    Connect: Communicate and Network With Purpose

    Connecting focuses on communicating with real people. Here, generative AI can lower the stakes for high-pressure interactions. By asking a chatbot to act the part of various audience members, students can rehearse multiple versions of a tailored 60-second elevator pitch, such as for a recruiter at a career fair, a cross-disciplinary faculty member at a poster session or a community partner exploring collaboration. Generative AI can also simulate informational interviews if students prompt the system to ask follow-up questions or even refine user inputs.

    In addition, students can leverage generative AI to draft initial outreach notes to potential mentors that the students then personalize and fact-check. They can explore networking strategies for conferences or professional association events, identifying whom to approach and what questions to ask based on publicly available information about attendees’ work.

    Even just five years ago, completing this nonexhaustive list of networking tasks might have seemed an impossibility for graduate students with already crammed agendas. Generative AI, however, affords graduate students the opportunity to become adept networkers without sacrificing much time from research and scholarship. Crucially, generative AI creates a low-risk space to practice, while it is the student who ultimately supplies credibility and authentic voice. Generative AI cannot build genuine relationships, but it can help students prepare for the human interactions where relationships form.

    Refine: Test, Adapt and Verify

    Refining is where judgment becomes visible. Before submitting a fellowship essay, for example, a student can ask the generative AI chatbot to simulate likely reviewer critiques based on published evaluation criteria, then use that feedback to align revisions to scoring rubrics. They can A/B test two AI-generated narrative approaches from the build stage with trusted readers, advisers or peers to determine which is more compelling. Before a campus talk, they can ask the chatbot to identify jargon, unclear transitions or slides with excessive text, then revise for audience accessibility.

    In each case, verification and ownership are nonnegotiable: Students must check references, deadlines and factual claims against primary sources and ensure the final product reflects their authentic voice rather than generic AI prose. A student who submits an AI-refined essay without verification may cite outdated program requirements, misrepresent their own experience or include plausible-sounding but fabricated details, undermining credibility with reviewers and jeopardizing their application.

    Cultivate Expert Caution, Not Technical Proficiency

    The goal is not to train students as prompt engineers but to help them exercise expert caution. This means teaching students to ask: Does this AI-generated text reflect my actual experience? Can I defend every claim in an interview? Does this output sound like me, or like generic professional-speak? Does this align with my values and the impression I want to create? If someone asked, “Tell me more about that,” could I elaborate with specific details?

    Students should view AI as a thought partner for the early stages of professional development work: the brainstorming, the first-draft scaffolding, the low-stakes rehearsal. It cannot replace human judgment, authentic relationships or deep expertise. A generative AI tool can help a student draft three versions of an elevator pitch, but only a trusted adviser can tell them which version sounds most genuine. It can list networking strategies, but only actual humans can become meaningful professional connections.

    Conclusion

    Each graduate student brings unique aptitudes, challenges and starting points. First-generation students navigating unfamiliar professional cultures may use generative AI to explore networking norms and decode unstated expectations. International students can practice U.S. interview conventions and professional correspondence styles. Part-time students with limited campus access can get preliminary feedback before precious advising appointments. Students managing disabilities or mental health challenges can use generative AI to reduce the cognitive load of initial drafting, preserving energy for higher-order revision and relationship-building.

    Used critically and transparently, generative AI can help students at all starting points explore, build, connect and refine their professional paths, alongside faculty advisers and career development professionals—never replacing them, but providing just-in-time feedback and broader access to coaching-style support.

    The question is no longer whether generative AI belongs in professional development. The real question is whether we will guide students to use it thoughtfully or leave them to navigate it alone. The explore-build-connect-refine framework offers one path forward: a structured approach that develops both professional competency and critical judgment. We choose guidance.

    Ioannis Vasileios Chremos is program manager for professional development at the University of Michigan Medical School Office of Graduate and Postdoctoral Studies.

    William A. Repetto is a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of English and the research office at the University of Delaware.

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  • Ask the Administrator: Advertising

    Ask the Administrator: Advertising

    An occasional correspondent writes,

    I am curious about your take on the amount of money that institutions are spending on marketing …

    According to this story, those four schools spent $676 million on marketing in one fiscal year.

    If private companies like Coke and Pepsi want to engage in an advertising arms race (a.k.a. the Cola Wars), that is fine because it is private money. If the shareholders don’t like it, they can vote out the board. However, a lot of this marketing money is from public dollars like Pell Grants, federal loans, GI Bill, etc. Public dollars should not be spent on an advertising arms race. Elizabeth Warren was looking into this in the context of OPMs.

    It seems like a huge transfer of wealth from taxpayers to Big Tech. The fact that adjuncts who teach online get paid so little is what really gets me upset about this.

    No one can unilaterally disarm in an arms race, but it seems like a condition of receiving federal aid could be that no more than X percent of your budget is marketing. This would mean some type of audits by government agencies, which are never fun, and the definition of “marketing” could be disputed. Schools might try to get around it with “content marketing” and other shenanigans, but it still seems like it’s worth a shot.

    So many thoughts …

    For obvious reasons, I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on my old constitutional law coursework. As long as the Supreme Court holds that money is speech—and the Supreme Court retains enough legitimacy to be taken seriously—I foresee major free speech issues around restricting advertising. If I were a betting man, I’d bet that the court’s legitimacy will have a shorter shelf life than its view on the “marketplace of ideas,” given how aggressively it’s shedding any pretense of respect for precedent.

    In the ’90s, a book called The Supreme Court and the Attitudinal Model (affectionately nicknamed SCAM) by Jeffrey Siegel and Harold Spaeth made some waves in political science circles for its claim that justices reasoned backward from the outcome they wanted. At the time, that was considered a shocking claim to make. Now it’s almost banal.

    And advertising generally isn’t what it used to be. Growing up, in the age of the media monoculture, ads tended to be corny. The best ones were either disarmingly sweet (Mean Joe Greene’s Coke ad, for example) or funny. They had to be, because they were expensive to air and the three networks had broad audiences. That led to inanity—anyone else remember the talking loaves of bread?—but the range of things that got advertised was relatively narrow and mostly inoffensive.

    Now it’s normal to see medicines advertised with machine-gun fire recitations of alarming side effects (“may cause fatal events”) and legal or legal-ish sports betting apps during games. In that context, ads for colleges are almost a relief, even if they sometimes seem excessive. At the last minor league baseball game I attended, three of the outfield billboards were for local colleges. I don’t remember that from earlier years.

    While we’re at it, separating institutional marketing from sports budgets at the Division I level would be a real challenge. How many students learn about universities from football? I’m guessing more than most of us would like to admit.

    That said, marketing isn’t cheap, and the money comes from somewhere.

    In the context of higher ed, separating public money from private money isn’t always clean. When I was at DeVry, the leadership there used to distinguish the taxpaying sector (meaning themselves) from the tax-consuming sector, which included private institutions. That was a bit convenient, as it left out the enormous reliance of most for-profits on federal and state financial aid, but there was a grain of truth to it. Nonprofit private colleges and universities benefit from tax exemptions and student financial aid, as well as (sometimes) research funding. In some states, they even receive direct operating aid. Higher ed is an ecosystem, rather than a system, but the entire ecosystem relies on public money in one form or another. In other words, assuming any actual respect for the law, it’s conceptually possible to attach limits on marketing expenses to the receipt of federal dollars.

    The underlying issue the correspondent raises is a serious one. Why do we force public or publicly funded institutions to compete with each other? Why do we underfund them to the point that they have to treat students as means rather than ends? The need for tuition dollars is behind the marketing; what if tuition were less relevant?

    Colleges have relatively fixed costs and relatively variable ones. In my more perfect world, public funding would cover the fixed costs and tuition could cover the variable ones. Instead, public funding falls well short of fixed costs, so they have to use variable revenues to cover fixed costs. That means scrambling to appease both prospective students and prospective funders, whether philanthropic or public. Advertising is part of that scrambling. When it works, it benefits the individual institution, but it’s likely negative for the ecosystem as a whole.

    Unfortunately, the ideology that assumes the market is always right has become common sense among one and a half of our two political parties. Markets are tools, not gods; regulating them is not heresy. But at this point in our political culture, anything that displeases markets is punished, often with an unnerving sense of righteousness among the punishers. We’ve even developed a new twist on Calvinism—the “prosperity gospel”—to sanctify wealth and to cast the nonwealthy as undeserving. I almost expect the mascot of the next for-profit educational behemoth to be the golden calf.

    Yes, I’d very much prefer to spend educational dollars on education, just as I’d rather spend medical dollars on medical care. Under the system we have, though, institutions can either compete or die. Changing that would require a political sea change.

    It’s almost enough to make me miss the talking loaves of bread.

    Have a question? Ask the Administrator at deandad (at) gmail (dot) com.

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  • On Climate Action, a View From Behind the Pack (opinion)

    On Climate Action, a View From Behind the Pack (opinion)

    The University of California system recently made waves by announcing a commitment “to fully decarbonize no later than 2045.” Unlike many “carbon neutrality” or “net zero” plans that rely heavily on carbon offsets, the UC system plans to cut emissions from campus electricity and fossil fuel use by at least 90 percent from 2019 levels and to balance residual emissions by investing in projects to remove carbon dioxide from the atmosphere.

    This win for the climate did not come easy: As activists from UC San Diego relate, they spent years building a coalition across campuses. Such success marks the UC system as a leader in American higher education, well ahead of other prestigious research universities with offset-heavy carbon neutrality plans—and well ahead of Purdue University, where we teach, which has no declared plans for decarbonization.

    Here, we wish to discuss our experiences advocating for a climate action plan at Purdue, where among our peer institutions we are decidedly a laggard, not a leader, in the climate space. We hope that detailing our frustrating lack of success provides a sober counternarrative to the success story of the UC system. Furthermore, we hope that knowing about our efforts may help others who are similarly involved in advocating for climate action at campuses in red states.

    Purdue’s Climate Story So Far

    A public, land-grant university in north-central Indiana, Purdue enrolls more than 44,000 undergraduates and almost 14,000 graduate and professional students. Purdue frequently touts itself as a world leader in innovation of all sorts, from artificial intelligence to biomedical research, even highlighting research on sustainability. Due to its size, the energy-intensive nature of its research activities and its location in a climate that sees both cold winters and hot, humid summers, Purdue’s campus emits as much climate pollution as a small city—439,000 metric tons per year of carbon dioxide equivalent as of 2023, the latest year for which official estimates are available.

    The Purdue community cares about sustainability: Classes in a wide range of majors feature considerable discussion of sustainability, and researchers across campus study the causes of and potential solutions for climate change. Purdue has won awards and recognition for low-hanging fruit, such as from Tree Campus USA and Bee Campus USA. Purdue also touts being named one of the most sustainable campuses by QS, although when one looks under the hood, such rankings give remarkably little weight to emissions reductions on campus. In the Association for the Advancement of Sustainability in Higher Education’s more rigorous reporting system, Purdue scored zero out of four on clean and renewable energy and 1.08 out of eight on greenhouse gas emissions.

    Purdue faces unique decarbonization challenges. Our university’s administration ultimately answers to the Indiana state government, which has recently canceled the state’s climate action planning and enables most counties to restrict renewable energy development. Electricity in Indiana has the highest carbon intensity of any state other than three major coal producers—Kentucky, West Virginia and Wyoming—and entails almost four times higher greenhouse gas emissions per unit of energy than electricity in California. Duke Energy, the utility that serves Purdue, is the fourth largest lobby in Indiana.

    While these challenges may seem daunting, progress on climate is possible even in Indiana. In 2023, our colleagues at Indiana University launched a plan promising carbon neutrality by 2040. They aim to get there by modest changes, such as improving energy efficiency in buildings and implementing renewable energy on campus. Purdue has also made progress—which we applaud—mainly by transitioning its combined heat and power plant from coal to natural gas. In 2023, Purdue estimated that its emissions were 27 percent lower than their coal-heavy 2011 level. But this only represents a small start to the actions needed for Purdue to live up to its obligations to students, staff, faculty, the community and, ultimately, the planet.

    Community Will and Administrative Inaction

    Many Purdue community members want substantial climate action. In 2020, more than 2,000 Purdue students signed a petition calling for Purdue to develop a climate action plan and create a universitywide, stand-alone sustainability office. The university’s president at the time, Mitch Daniels—Indiana’s former Republican governor and a noted climate change skeptic—dismissed the petition.

    In the fall of 2022, students and faculty formed the Purdue Climate Action Collective (PCAC), aimed at pressuring the university to develop a climate action plan and to be transparent in reporting emissions. In the spring of 2023, the Purdue Student Government, the Graduate Student Government and the University Senate each passed resolutions calling on the university to commit to a climate action plan. The Senate resolution also called upon Purdue to join the Greater Lafayette Climate Action Plan, developed by the surrounding county and cities. Once again, Purdue ignored these calls.

    Since then, PCAC has mounted numerous protests, spoken at student events, peppered campus with signs, reached out to the administration and attended Board of Trustees meetings to express our concerns. Our board is entirely appointed by the governor of Indiana. PCAC has also launched a new petition, now at 1,600 signatures.

    Despite the Purdue community’s advocacy for climate action, our new president, Mung Chiang, has authorized no comprehensive, campuswide climate action plan. The nearest thing is the Campus Planning, Architecture and Sustainability office’s Sustainability Master Plan for 2020–25, which aims to reduce Purdue’s emissions from electricity and fossil fuel use 50 percent below 2011 levels by 2025 and to pursue 500 kilowatts of renewable energy. While we applaud these near-term goals, and the incomplete but significant progress toward achieving them, decarbonizing Purdue will require making a long-term plan to outgrow natural gas and Duke Energy’s carbon-intensive electricity.

    On this topic, the Purdue administration told the University Senate in 2024 that “Purdue has a climate action plan consisting of two parts,” referring senators to the Sustainability Master Plan and to a joint study with Duke Energy on the feasibility of a small modular nuclear reactor (SMR) for the campus. While nuclear might play a role in Purdue’s energy future, SMRs are an unproven technology and should not be used as an excuse to delay the decarbonization of our campus.

    The SMR study’s 2023 report states, “whether SMRs will be an economic option for Duke Energy Indiana’s customers is unknown given current technology, timing and cost uncertainty.” The report cites a likely cost range of $1.1 to $2.25 billion (for context, Purdue’s endowment currently totals $4.1 billion) and discusses design technologies that may only become “commercially viable in 2035–2040.” A responsible climate action plan could certainly include nuclear energy down the road, if it proves successful, but the urgency of the climate crisis demands that institutions address their greenhouse gas emissions now.

    Possible Paths Forward

    Preliminary studies of decarbonization at Purdue suggest that climate action is feasible and affordable. Today, Purdue could take a number of proven, cost-effective actions, such as improving the efficiency of its building operations (for example, by using software to avoid heating or cooling unoccupied spaces), or increasing parking fees and investing the proceeds in infrastructure and incentives for buses and electric vehicle charging. In the next five to 10 years, Purdue could electrify its vehicle fleet and arrange power-purchase agreements with clean electricity generators in the area, as has been done successfully at places like the University of Michigan and the University of Minnesota.

    Long-term pathways to deep emission reductions remain uncertain, especially when considering Scope 3 emissions (emissions that are indirectly generated by university activities, such as employee commuting and flying), but Purdue has options and plenty of experts eager to investigate them. Inclusive and transparent processes for climate action planning would draw upon Purdue community expertise to identify, evaluate and select climate action pathways. But for any of this to happen, our administration must first acknowledge the need for climate action on campus.

    Our experience at Purdue has affirmed that fighting for climate action on public red-state campuses is an uphill battle. We know that change must come from both above and below. Students, faculty and staff concerned about the future of our planet must continue to raise their voices and add to the pressure the university feels. Administrators more inclined toward shared governance—or toward maintaining a livable climate for the future generations that Purdue aims to serve—must also add their voices to the mix. As Purdue begins to act on climate, its passionate community of activists and innovators will be there to support implementation and to celebrate accomplishments along the way.

    Although we have much to learn from the success of places like UC, places like Purdue need a different set of tools and approaches. For those at similarly recalcitrant universities, we hope this message reminds them that institutions won’t take these steps without great pressure. But given the dire warnings about the future of our planet, the importance of local climate action as congressional Republicans and the Trump administration have repealed most federal support for climate action, and the important role of universities as thought leaders, we remain convinced that this is a fight worth having.

    Michael Johnston, a professor of English at Purdue University, founded the Purdue Climate Action Collective and has been involved in the fight for climate justice at Purdue since 2022.

    Kevin Kircher, an assistant professor of mechanical engineering and, by courtesy, electrical and computer engineering at Purdue University, studies clean energy technologies and has worked on campus decarbonization projects at Cornell University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

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  • Neurodiverse leadership is a quality issue for universities, not a side project 

    Neurodiverse leadership is a quality issue for universities, not a side project 

    Author:
    Imran Mir

    Published:

    This guest blog was kindly authored by Imran Mir, Campus Head and Programme Lead, Apex College Leicester 

    Leadership in higher education is often measured by indicators such as retention rates, research outputs and league table positions. These are important, but leadership is far deeper than numbers. Growing up with autism and then becoming a leader in higher education has shaped how I approach leadership. Being neurodiverse means I see situations differently, notice patterns others may miss, and feel deep empathy with students and colleagues who are often invisible in our systems. 
     
    This is why neurodiverse leadership must be treated as a quality issue. Universities are rightly talking more about inclusive curriculum design and student support, but these conversations rarely extend to who sits at the decision-making table. Representation in leadership is not about tokenism. It is about ensuring the sector benefits from different ways of thinking, which is vital for quality, resilience and innovation.

    Why neurodiverse leadership matters

    According to the University of Edinburgh 2024, in the UK, one in seven people are neurodiverse. Advance HE 2024 report shows leadership teams in higher education remain overwhelmingly homogenous. This lack of representation is not just an issue of fairness, it is also a missed opportunity for innovation. Research by Deloitte 2017 shows that neurodiverse teams can be up to 30 per cent more productive in tasks requiring creativity and pattern recognition. Universities are currently facing challenges in relation to funding and digital disruption, and they will need this kind of productivity and resilience more than ever. 
     
    Further, Made By Dyslexia 2023 claims that one in five people are dyslexic, many of whom bring excellent problem-solving and communication skills. These strengths align with what is expected in leadership roles, where complex challenges and clear communication are requirements. Yet recruitment and promotion processes can often filter out people who think or communicate differently. 
     
    Austin & Pisano, 2017 adds that neurodiverse leaders frequently demonstrate empathy and adaptability. These qualities are imperative in higher education as institutions are trying their best to meet diverse student needs, respond to rapid change and rebuild trust in their systems. Without neurodiverse leadership, universities risk reinforcing the very barriers which they are trying to eradicate. 

    Lessons for higher education leaders

    From my own experience, I have learned three lessons that apply directly to leadership in higher education. 
     
    The first lesson is the power of clarity. Neurodiverse staff and students excel when expectations are clear. As a leader, I have seen first-hand that communicating with clarity in strategy documents, policies and day-to-day interactions builds trust in the academic institution. Research on organisational effectiveness suggests that clear communication consistently improves outcomes across diverse teams  
     
    The second lesson is valuing flexibility. Traditional recruitment, professional development and promotion systems seem to reward conformity. This is a missed opportunity because neurodiverse teams will bring innovation and productivity benefits. Strong leaders can change this by adopting flexible approaches such as task-based interviews, blended assessments that combine written, oral and practical elements, and CPD which takes into consideration various communication styles. 

    The third lesson is role modelling openness. For years I believed that revealing my autism would be seen as a weakness. In reality, sharing my story has made me a stronger leader. It has encouraged colleagues to be open about their own experiences and helped students feel less isolated. Austin & Pisano 2017 show that when leaders model vulnerability and authenticity, it strengthens organisational culture and increases trust across teams. 

    A quality issue, not a side project

    These lessons outline why neurodiverse leadership should not be viewed as a side project. Quality frameworks such as the Office for Students’ conditions and the QAA Quality Code are built on assumptions of fairness, reliability and inclusivity. If leadership itself is not inclusive, then the credibility of these frameworks is undermined. If the voices of the one-in-seven neurodiverse people are not present in leadership, then universities are failing to reflect the diversity of the communities they are trying to serve.  
     
    Neurodiverse leadership will strengthen governance, enhances decision-making and ensures policies reflect the diversity of the student body. It is a direct contributor to educational quality, not an optional extra.

    Conclusion

    As someone working in higher education, I know these lessons are transferable across the sector. But they feel especially urgent now, as universities face funding pressures, digital disruption and growing student expectations. In such times, leaders who think differently are not optional. They are essential. 
     
    Neurodiverse leadership is not about meeting quotas. It is about strengthening quality. The sector cannot afford to waste talent or exclude perspectives that could help it adapt and thrive. If universities want to remain resilient, they must recognise that diversity of thought at the leadership table is just as important as diversity in the classroom. At its heart, this is about shaping the future of higher education in a way that is inclusive, innovative and sustainable. 

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