In the newest episode of Small College America, my co-host Kent Barnds and I speak with Jon Nichols, author of Requiem for a College: The Troubling Trend of College Closures in the United States. Nichols’ book offers a deeply personal and reflective look at the 2017 closure of Saint Joseph’s College, an institution intertwined with his family for three generations—his father, Dr. John Nichols, taught there for five decades, and his brother Michael continues to teach at Purdue University.
The Story of Saint Joseph’s College
Founded in 1889 by the Missionaries of the Precious Blood, Saint Joseph’s College in Rensselaer, Indiana, was a small Catholic liberal arts institution known for its close-knit community, rigorous Core Curriculum, and dedication to service. For more than a century, it served as both an educational and cultural anchor for Rensselaer and surrounding Jasper County, educating generations of teachers, business leaders, and clergy. At its peak in the 1970s, the college enrolled more than 1,500 students and earned national recognition for its innovative Core Program, which blended history, philosophy, and theology in an interdisciplinary approach to learning.
Despite its enduring mission and loyal alumni base, Saint Joseph’s faced mounting financial pressures and declining enrollment, leading to the suspension of operations in 2017. By that year, the college’s enrollment had declined to about 900 students, a sharp drop from its earlier decades of strength. The closure reverberated throughout the region, symbolizing a growing crisis among small, tuition-dependent private colleges across the United States.
About Jon Nichols
Jon Nichols is an author, educator, and observer of the changing higher education landscape. A graduate of Saint Joseph’s College and longtime member of its academic community, Nichols witnessed firsthand the personal and institutional struggles that informed Requiem for a College: The Troubling Trend of College Closures in the United States. His work combines narrative storytelling with research and reflection, capturing both the emotional and systemic dimensions of college closures. Today, Nichols teaches English at Waubonsee Community College in Illinois, where he continues to write and speak about the sustainability challenges facing small colleges and the communities they serve.
Nichols captures the profound emotional and social toll of a college closure—on faculty, students, alumni, and the surrounding town. His narrative reminds readers that when a college closes, it is not just an institution that disappears, but a community, a sense of purpose, and a shared legacy.
Our conversation explores a range of topics, including the warning signs that should have been taken more seriously—both at Saint Joseph’s and across higher education—and how his book captures not only institutional failure but also human loss: the erasure of identity, community, and legacy. Nichols also reflects on what sustainable models of higher education might look like in the years ahead and what long-term effects the closure has had on former students, faculty, and the Rensselaer community.
Small College America is a podcast series that shines a spotlight on the powerful impact of small colleges across the nation. Hosted by Dean Hoke and Kent Barnds, the podcast brings listeners inside the world of small colleges through candid conversations with higher education leaders, policy experts, and innovators. Each episode explores how these institutions are adapting, thriving, and continuing to deliver a personal, high-quality education.
After decades serving in the Marine Corps and in education, I know firsthand that servant leadership and diplomacy can and should be taught. That’s why I hoped to bring 32 high school seniors from Texas to Washington, D.C., this fall for a week of engagement and learning with top U.S. government and international leaders.
Instead of open doors, we faced a government shutdown and had to cancel our trip.
The shutdown impacts government employees, members of the military and their families who are serving overseas and all Americans who depend on government being open to serve us — in businesses, schools and national parks, and through air travel and the postal service.
Our trip was not going to be a typical rushed tour of monuments, but a highly selective, long-anticipated capstone experience. Our plans included intensive interaction with government leaders at the Naval Academy and the Pentagon, discussions at the State Department and a leadership panel with senators and congressmembers. Our students hoped to explore potential careers and even practice their Spanish and Mandarin skills at the Mexican and Chinese embassies.
The students not only missed out on the opportunity to connect with these leaders and make important connections for college and career, they learned what happens when leadership and diplomacy fail — a harsh reminder that we need to teach these skills, and the principles that support them, in our schools.
Senior members of the military know that the DIME framework — diplomatic, informational, military and economic — should guide and support strategic objectives, particularly on the international stage. My own time in the Corps taught me the essential role of honesty and trust in conversations, negotiations and diplomacy. In civic life, this approach preserves democracy, yet the government shutdown demonstrates what happens when the mission shifts from solving problems to scoring points.
Our elected leaders were tasked with a mission, and the continued shutdown shows a breakdown in key aspects of governance and public service. That’s the real teachable moment of this shutdown. Democracy works when leaders can disagree without disengaging; when they can argue, compromise and keep doors open. If our future leaders can’t practice those skills, shutdowns will become less an exception and more a way of governing.
Students from ILTexas, a charter network serving over 26,000 students across the state, got a lesson in failed diplomacy after the government shutdown forced cancellation of their long-planned trip to the nation’s capital. Credit: Courtesy International Leadership of Texas Charter Schools
With opposing points of view, communication is essential. Bridging language is invaluable. As the adage goes, talk to a man in a language he understands, that goes to his head. Speak in his own language, that goes to his heart. That is why, starting in kindergarten, we teach every student in our charter school network English, Spanish and Mandarin Chinese.
Some of our graduates will become teachers, lawyers, doctors and entrepreneurs. Others will pursue careers in public service or navigate our democracy on the international stage. All will enter a world more fractured than the one I stepped into as a Marine.
While our leaders struggle to find common ground, studies show that nationally, only 22 percent of eighth graders are proficient in civics, and fewer than 20 percent of American students study a foreign language. My students are exceptions, preparing to lead in three languages and through servant leadership, a philosophy that turns a position of power into a daily practice of responsibility and care for others.
While my students represent our ILTexas schools, they also know they are carrying something larger: the hopes of their families, communities and even their teenage peers across the country. Some hope to utilize their multilingual skills, motivated by a desire to help the international community. Others want to be a part of the next generation of diplomats and policy thinkers who are ready to face modern challenges head-on.
To help them, we build good habits into the school day. Silent hallways instill respect for others. Language instruction builds empathy and an international perspective. Community service requirements (60 hours per high school student) and projects, as well as dedicated leadership courses and optional participation in our Marine Corps JROTC program give students regular chances to practice purpose over privilege.
Educators should prepare young people for the challenges they will inherit, whether in Washington, in our communities or on the world stage. But schools can’t carry this responsibility alone. Students are watching all of us. It’s our duty to show them a better way.
We owe our young people more than simply a good education. We owe them a society in which they can see these civic lessons modeled by their elected leaders, and a path to put them into practice.
Eddie Conger is the founder and superintendent of International Leadership of Texas, a public charter school network serving more than 26,000 students across the state, and a retired U.S. Marine Corps major.
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.
The convergence of changing demographics, economic volatility and the relentless disruption of AI presents every leader with a stark choice: drive transformative growth or manage a legacy of decline. The choice is yours.
The era of steady traditional enrollment is over. Beginning in 2026, most institutions will confront a lasting decline in their core undergraduate market. At the same time, public faith in higher education’s value is weakening, leaving institutions to rebuild trust through proof, not promises.
Growth in this new era demands more than adaptation—it demands reinvention. Institutions must lead with strategy, act with urgency and build around the Modern Learner. Because in a market defined by disruption, there are only two paths forward: reinvent or risk irrelevance.
Key Takeaway #1: An Unstable Economic and Employment Landscape
Economic volatility is rising as job creation slows, and uncertainty spreads. The workforce is growing more cautious than ambitious, and in this climate, the traditional promise of a college degree is under siege.
College graduates still enjoy higher employment rates, yet public faith in that value is eroding. The perception gap is widening, and institutions can no longer rely on reputation alone to carry their story.
This is the moment to lead with proof, not platitude.
Institutions must demonstrate return on investment with clarity and consistency. Publish outcomes data. Showcase alumni success. Connect every program to real career mobility. This isn’t just about convincing students, it’s about rebuilding trust across the entire ecosystem of alumni, employers, policymakers and the public.
In today’s economy, outcomes are the new currency of reputation. The institutions that clearly and consistently prove their value will be the ones that grow.
Key Takeaway #2: A Radically Transformed Enrollment Environment
Institutions now operate in a fundamentally different enrollment landscape. The long-anticipated demographic cliff is no longer a future threat; it’s here. The 2025 cycle marked the high-water mark for traditional-aged undergraduates. From 2026 on, institutions will face a sustained and irreversible decline in their core market.
But this doesn’t have to be a crisis. It’s an opportunity to pivot and capture where growth has moved. The new lifeblood of higher education lies in:
Adult learners seeking rapid reskilling in a volatile economy
Dual-enrollment students accelerating their path to a degree
“Some college, no credential” learners returning to finish what they started
The lines between traditional and nontraditional students have disappeared. These aren’t separate segments—they’re one unified audience shaping the future of higher education.
Leaders who continue to operate with outdated distinctions risk designing strategies for a market that no longer exists. Modern Learners value cost, convenience and career outcomes—and they expect institutions to deliver all three.
This is the moment to retire the old playbook, embrace a new mindset and build for the learner who’s already redefining what comes next.
Key Takeaway #3: AI Is an Unmistakable Force with Far-Reaching Implications
AI is accelerating change across every dimension of higher education, from how institutions engage to how graduates build careers.
While the technology itself isn’t new, its rapid integration is rewriting the rules. AI has fractured the traditional recruitment funnel. Modern Learners use AI-powered tools to search, compare and evaluate options before they reach an institution’s website. The student journey is now self-directed, hyper-personalized and constantly evolving, demanding that marketing and enrollment teams adapt in real time.
But AI’s impact extends far beyond recruitment. Its growing influence in the workforce is forcing institutions to rethink their academic mission. Institutions that lead will design education for the AI era by combining technical fluency with human-centered skills such as creativity, critical thinking and ethics.
Key Takeaway #4: AI Is an Unmistakable Force with Far-Reaching Implications
Incrementalism is now the greatest risk. In an age of constant disruption, small adjustments and siloed strategies hinder growth. The institutions that succeed will lead with clarity, agility and a unified vision centered on the Modern Learner.
Sustained growth demands leadership that acts decisively across three dimensions:
Align program portfolios with high-growth sectors. Move beyond tradition-bound curriculums. Invest in programs that meet labor-market demand and retire those that no longer serve a clear purpose.
Unify brand and enrollment strategies. The boundaries between undergraduate, graduate and online student populations are disappearing. Institutions must speak with one voice and focus on the three factors that drive every learner’s decision: cost, convenience and career outcomes.
Lead the conversation on value and outcomes. Public trust cannot be rebuilt through messaging alone. It must be earned through transparency, data and measurable results.
This is the moment that will define the next decade of higher education. The difference between survival and sustainable growth hinges on decisive, informed action. Leaders must either seize this moment to shape the future or watch their institutions be defined by it.
From Insight to Action: Ten Strategic Imperatives for Sustainable Growth
The era of incremental adjustment is over. Conviction is now the currency of leadership. This moment demands bold leadership and a decisive strategy that converts disruption into a roadmap for measurable growth.
The EducationDynamics’ 2026 Landscape of Higher Education Report delivers that roadmap. Our Ten Strategic Imperatives are pragmatic, research-driven levers designed to help your institution build resilience and sustainable momentum for 2026 and beyond.
Publish transparent results and illustrate career alignment to help students understand program value.
Imperative #2: Market ROI Relentlessly.
Lead with affordability and clearly communicate a projected and proven return on investment.
Imperative #3: Capture the Dual Enrollment Surge.
Build structured high school-to-degree pipelines.
Imperative #4: Own the Adult Learner Market.
Offer flexible, online and stackable options with the support working learners need to balance their multiple priorities.
Imperative #5: Prioritize Accessibility through the Three C’s.
Deliver education that meets learners on cost, convenience and career outcomes.
Imperative #6: Lead in Responsible AI Adoption.
Optimize marketing for AI discoverability and AI powered platforms, while Integrating AI into advising, engagement and instruction.
Imperative #7: Reinvent Vulnerable Disciplines.
Reframe liberal arts around adaptability and skills attainment.
Imperative #8: Re-engage the Stopped-Out Majority.
Convert the 43 million with some college, no credentials into completers through credit recovery, tailored pathways and adult-first design.
Imperative #9: Stack Credentials into Careers.
Link short-term certificates to degree pathways.
imperative #10: Advocate for Policy Stability.
Simplify aid communication and push for predictable funding.
Together, these imperatives form a blueprint for how higher education can evolve from reactive adaptation to proactive growth.
Transform Disruption into Growth
The time for caution has passed. Those who hesitate or fail to act with purpose will fall behind in a marketplace that does not wait.
At EducationDynamics, we partner with colleges and universities prepared to lead this transformation—those who understand that meeting the Modern Learner where they are is not just an enrollment strategy but the new mission of higher education.
For deeper insights and actionable strategies, download the full 2026 Landscape of Higher Education Report and learn how your institution can stay ahead of the curve.
by Mehreen Ashraf, Eimear Nolan, Manual F Ramirez, Gazi Islam and Dirk Lindebaum
Walk into almost any university today, and you can be sure to encounter the topic of AI and how it affects higher education (HE). AI applications, especially large language models (LLM), have become part of everyday academic life, being used for drafting outlines, summarising readings, and even helping students to ‘think’. For some, the emergence of LLMs is a revolution that makes learning more efficient and accessible. For others, it signals something far more unsettling: a shift in how and by whom knowledge is controlled. This latter point is the focus of our new article published in Organization Studies.
At the heart of our article is a shift in what is referred to epistemic (or knowledge) governance: the way in which knowledge is created, organised, and legitimised in HE. In plain terms, epistemic governance is about who gets to decide what counts as credible, whose voices are heard, and how the rules of knowing are set. Universities have historically been central to epistemic governance through peer review, academic freedom, teaching, and the public mission of scholarship. But as AI tools become deeply embedded in teaching and research, those rules are being rewritten not by educators or policymakers, but by the companies that own the technology.
From epistemic agents to epistemic consumers
Universities, academics, and students have traditionally been epistemic agents: active producers and interpreters of knowledge. They ask questions, test ideas, and challenge assumptions. But when we rely on AI systems to generate or validate content, we risk shifting from being agents of knowledge to consumers of knowledge. Technology takes on the heavy cognitive work: it finds sources, summarises arguments, and even produces prose that sounds academic. However, this efficiency comes at the cost of profound changes in the nature of intellectual work.
Students who rely on AI to tidy up their essays, or generate references, will learn less about the process of critically evaluating sources, connecting ideas and constructing arguments, which are essential for reasoning through complex problems. Academics who let AI draft research sections, or feed decision letters and reviewer reports into AI with the request that AI produces a ‘revision strategy’, might save time but lose the slow, reflective process that leads to original thought, while undercutting their own agency in the process. And institutions that embed AI into learning systems hand part of their epistemic governance – their authority to define what knowledge is and how it is judged – to private corporations.
This is not about individual laziness; it is structural. As Shoshana Zuboff argued in The age of surveillance capitalism, digital infrastructures do not just collect information, they reorganise how we value and act upon it. When universities become dependent on tools owned by big tech, they enter an ecosystem where the incentives are commercial, not educational.
Big tech and the politics of knowing
The idea that universities might lose control of knowledge sounds abstract, but it is already visible. Jisc’s 2024 framework on AI in tertiary education warns that institutions must not ‘outsource their intellectual labour to unaccountable systems,’ yet that outsourcing is happening quietly. Many UK universities, including the University of Oxford, have signed up to corporate AI platforms to be used by staff and students alike. This, in turn, facilitates the collection of data on learning behaviours that can be fed back into proprietary models.
This data loop gives big tech enormous influence over what is known and how it is known. A company’s algorithm can shape how research is accessed, which papers surface first, or which ‘learning outcomes’ appear most efficient to achieve. That’s epistemic governance in action: the invisible scaffolding that structures knowledge behind the scenes. At the same time, it is easy to see why AI technologies appeal to universities under pressure. AI tools promise speed, standardisation, lower costs, and measurable performance, all seductive in a sector struggling with staff shortages and audit culture. But those same features risk hollowing out the human side of scholarship: interpretation, dissent, and moral reasoning. The risk is not that AI will replace academics but that it will change them, turning universities from communities of inquiry into systems of verification.
The Humboldtian ideal and why it is still relevant
The modern research university was shaped by the 19th-century thinker Wilhelm von Humboldt, who imagined higher education as a public good, a space where teaching and research were united in the pursuit of understanding. The goal was not efficiency: it was freedom. Freedom to think, to question, to fail, and to imagine differently.
That ideal has never been perfectly achieved, but it remains a vital counterweight to market-driven logics that render AI a natural way forward in HE. When HE serves as a place of critical inquiry, it nourishes democracy itself. When it becomes a service industry optimised by algorithms, it risks producing what Žižek once called ‘humans who talk like chatbots’: fluent, but shallow.
The drift toward organised immaturity
Scholars like Andreas Scherer and colleagues describe this shift as organised immaturity: a condition where sociotechnical systems prompt us to stop thinking for ourselves. While AI tools appear to liberate us from labour, what is happening is that they are actually narrowing the space for judgment and doubt.
In HE, that immaturity shows up when students skip the reading because ‘ChatGPT can summarise it’, or when lecturers rely on AI slides rather than designing lessons for their own cohort. Each act seems harmless; but collectively, they erode our epistemic agency. The more we delegate cognition to systems optimised for efficiency, the less we cultivate the messy, reflective habits that sustain democratic thinking. Immanuel Kant once defined immaturity as ‘the inability to use one’s understanding without guidance from another.’ In the age of AI, that ‘other’ may well be an algorithm trained on millions of data points, but answerable to no one.
Reclaiming epistemic agency
So how can higher education reclaim its epistemic agency? The answer lies not only in rejecting AI but also in rethinking our possible relationships with it. Universities need to treat generative tools as objects of inquiry, not an invisible infrastructure. That means embedding critical digital literacy across curricula: not simply training students to use AI responsibly, but teaching them to question how it works, whose knowledge it privileges, and whose it leaves out.
In classrooms, educators could experiment with comparative exercises: have students write an essay on their own, then analyse an AI version of the same task. What’s missing? What assumptions are built in? How were students changed when the AI wrote the essay for them and when they wrote them themselves? As the Russell Group’s 2024 AI principles note, ‘critical engagement must remain at the heart of learning.’
In research, academics too must realise that their unique perspectives, disciplinary judgement, and interpretive voices matter, perhaps now more than ever, in a system where AI’s homogenisation of knowledge looms. We need to understand that the more we subscribe to values of optimisation and efficiency as preferred ways of doing academic work, the more natural the penetration of AI into HE will unfold.
Institutionally, universities might consider building open, transparent AI systems through consortia, rather than depending entirely on proprietary tools. This isn’t just about ethics; it’s about governance and ensuring that epistemic authority remains a public, democratic responsibility.
Why this matters to you
Epistemic governance and epistemic agency may sound like abstract academic terms, but they refer to something fundamental: the ability of societies and citizens (not just ‘workers’) to think for themselves when/if universities lose control over how knowledge is created, validated and shared. When that happens, we risk not just changing education but weakening democracy. As journalist George Monbiot recently wrote, ‘you cannot speak truth to power if power controls your words.’ The same is true for HE. We cannot speak truth to power if power now writes our essays, marks our assignments, and curates our reading lists.
Mehreen Ashraf is an Assistant Professor at Cardiff Business School, Cardiff University, United Kingdom.
Eimear Nolan is an Associate Professor in International Business at Trinity Business School, Trinity College Dublin, Ireland.
Manuel F Ramirez is Lecturer in Organisation Studies at the University of Liverpool Management School, UK.
Gazi Islam is Professor of People, Organizations and Society at Grenoble Ecole de Management, France.
Dirk Lindebaum is Professor of Management and Organisation at the School of Management, University of Bath.
This story was produced by the Associated Press and reprinted with permission.
WASHINGTON – For a generation of young Americans, choosing where to go to college — or whether to go at all — has become a complex calculation of costs and benefits that often revolves around a single question: Is the degree worth its price?
Public confidence in higher education has plummeted in recent years amid high tuition prices, skyrocketing student loans and a dismal job market — plus ideological concerns from conservatives. Now, colleges are scrambling to prove their value to students.
Borrowed from the business world, the term “return on investment” has been plastered on college advertisements across the U.S. A battery of new rankings grade campuses on the financial benefits they deliver. States such as Colorado have started publishing yearly reports on the monetary payoff of college, and Texas now factors it into calculations for how much taxpayer money goes to community colleges.
“Students are becoming more aware of the times when college doesn’t pay off,” said Preston Cooper, who has studied college ROI at the American Enterprise Institute, a conservative think tank. “It’s front of mind for universities today in a way that it was not necessarily 15, 20 years ago.”
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A wide body of research indicates a bachelor’s degree still pays off, at least on average and in the long run. Yet there’s growing recognition that not all degrees lead to a good salary, and even some that seem like a good bet are becoming riskier as graduates face one of the toughest job markets in years.
A new analysis released Thursday by the Strada Education Foundation finds 70 percent of recent public university graduates can expect a positive return within 10 years — meaning their earnings over a decade will exceed that of a typical high school graduate by an amount greater than the cost of their degree. Yet it varies by state, from 53 percent in North Dakota to 82 percent in Washington, D.C. States where college is more affordable have fared better, the report says.
It’s a critical issue for families who wonder how college tuition prices could ever pay off, said Emilia Mattucci, a high school counselor at East Allegheny schools, near Pittsburgh. More than two-thirds of her school’s students come from low-income families, and many aren’t willing to take on the level of debt that past generations accepted.
Instead, more are heading to technical schools or the trades and passing on four-year universities, she said.
“A lot of families are just saying they can’t afford it, or they don’t want to go into debt for years and years and years,” she said.
Education Secretary Linda McMahon has been among those questioning the need for a four-year degree. Speaking at the Reagan Institute think tank in September, McMahon praised programs that prepare students for careers right out of high school.
“I’m not saying kids shouldn’t go to college,” she said. “I’m just saying all kids don’t have to go in order to be successful.”
American higher education has been grappling with both sides of the ROI equation — tuition costs and graduate earnings. It’s becoming even more important as colleges compete for decreasing numbers of college-age students as a result of falling birth rates.
Tuition rates have stayed flat on many campuses in recent years to address affordability concerns, and many private colleges have lowered their sticker prices in an effort to better reflect the cost most students actually pay after factoring in financial aid.
The other part of the equation — making sure graduates land good jobs — is more complicated.
A group of college presidents recently met at Gallup’s Washington headquarters to study public polling on higher education. One of the chief reasons for flagging confidence is a perception that colleges aren’t giving graduates the skills employers need, said Kevin Guskiewicz, president of Michigan State University, one of the leaders at the meeting.
“We’re trying to get out in front of that,” he said.
The issue has been a priority for Guskiewicz since he arrived on campus last year. He gathered a council of Michigan business leaders to identify skills that graduates will need for jobs, from agriculture to banking. The goal is to mold degree programs to the job market’s needs and to get students internships and work experience that can lead to a job.
Bridging the gap to the job market has been a persistent struggle for U.S. colleges, said Matt Sigelman, president of the Burning Glass Institute, a think tank that studies the workforce. Last year the institute, partnering with Strada researchers, found 52 percent of recent college graduates were in jobs that didn’t require a degree. Even higher-demand fields, such as education and nursing, had large numbers of graduates in that situation.
“No programs are immune, and no schools are immune,” Sigelman said.
The federal government has been trying to fix the problem for decades, going back to President Barack Obama’s administration. A federal rule first established in 2011 aimed to cut federal money to college programs that leave graduates with low earnings, though it primarily targeted for-profit colleges.
A Republican reconciliation bill passed this year takes a wider view, requiring most colleges to hit earnings standards to be eligible for federal funding. The goal is to make sure college graduates end up earning more than those without a degree.
Others see transparency as a key solution.
For decades, students had little way to know whether graduates of specific degree programs were landing good jobs after college. That started to change with the College Scorecard in 2015, a federal website that shares broad earnings outcomes for college programs. More recently, bipartisan legislation in Congress has sought to give the public even more detailed data.
Lawmakers in North Carolina ordered a 2023 study on the financial return for degrees across the state’s public universities. It found that 93 percent produced a positive return, meaning graduates were expected to earn more over their lives than someone without a similar degree.
The data is available to the public, showing, for example, that undergraduate degrees in applied math and business tend to have high returns at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, while graduate degrees in psychology and foreign languages often don’t.
Colleges are belatedly realizing how important that kind of data is to students and their families, said Lee Roberts, chancellor of UNC-Chapel Hill, in an interview.
“In uncertain times, students are even more focused — I would say rightly so — on what their job prospects are going to be,” he added. “So I think colleges and universities really owe students and their families this data.”
The Associated Press’ education coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.
The Strada Education Foundation, whose research is mentioned in this story, is one of the many funders of The Hechinger Report.
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.
In South Korea, education has long been the most powerful route to social mobility and prestige, but a recent study shows how that pursuit is changing. Published in the Asia Pacific Education Review (2025), one of the newest article in transnational education (TNE) research investigates why Korean students are now choosing to study at US branch campuses located inside their own country rather than traveling abroad. Focusing on N University, a US-affiliated institution within the Incheon Global Campus, the study explores how students balance ambition, constraint, and identity in one of the world’s most competitive education systems.
Korea’s higher education landscape is characterised by rigid hierarchies in which the name of a university often outweighs individual academic or professional ability. Admission to elite institutions such as Seoul National, Korea, and Yonsei University is still viewed as a ticket to success. At the same time, US degrees continue to hold exceptional symbolic power, representing international competence, social status, and career advantage. Yet, for many families, studying abroad is prohibitively expensive, while competition for domestic university places remains intense. The result is that a growing number of students are enrolling in American branch campuses at home, institutions that promise the prestige of a US education without the cost and distance of overseas study.
To explain this trend, the researchers propose a Trilateral Push–Pull Model. Traditional models of student mobility describe decision-making as a process between two countries or schools: one that pushes students out and another that pulls them in. However, international branch campuses (IBCs) add a third dimension. Korean universities push students away through limited access and rigid hierarchies. US universities attract them with prestige and global capital but are often out of reach financially and logistically. The IBC exists between these poles, offering an American degree and English-language instruction within Korea’s borders. This framework captures how students navigate overlapping pressures from domestic and global systems.
Drawing on interviews with 21 Korean students, the study reveals several interconnected findings. Many participants viewed the IBC as a second choice, not their first preference but a realistic and strategic option when other routes were blocked. They were attracted by the prestige of American degree, USstyle curriculum (in English), smaller classes, and opportunities for studying at the home campus abroad. At the same time, they expressed anxiety about the ambiguous status of their institution. Several students described N University as “in between”, uncertain whether it was truly American or fully Korean. This ambiguity, they said, made it difficult to explain their school to relatives, peers, or teachers, who were unfamiliar with the branch campus model. In a culture where school reputation carries great weight, such uncertainty caused unease even when students were satisfied with their learning experience.
The study also underscores the continuing role of family influence and educational aspiration. Many students reported growing up in households where parents believed education was the only reliable path to success and were willing to make sacrifices for English proficiency and global exposure. For these families, IBCs offered a middle ground: a way to obtain a foreign education without leaving home or paying international tuition. Students who attended Korean secondary schools typically saw the IBC as an alternative after failing to gain admission to top domestic universities. Those with international or bilingual school backgrounds viewed it as a substitute for studying abroad, particularly after the COVID-19 pandemic made overseas education less appealing or feasible.
In both groups, the IBC served as a strategic compromise. It allowed students to maintain a sense of global ambition while avoiding the financial, emotional, and logistical risks of full international mobility. It also provided a form of what sociologist Jongyoung Kim calls global cultural capital: the symbolic value and recognition that come with foreign credentials. By earning an American degree at home, students could claim global status without physically migrating. This pattern illustrates how globalisation in higher education is increasingly taking place within national borders.
Beyond individual motivations, the study connects these choices to larger demographic and policy challenges. Korea’s declining college-age population and government-imposed tuition freezes have created fierce competition among universities for a shrinking pool of students. In this environment, IBCs serve dual roles: they act as pressure valves that absorb unmet domestic demand and as prestige bridges that connect local students to the symbolic power of American education. However, their long-term sustainability remains uncertain. Many IBCs struggle with limited public visibility, uneven recognition, and questions about academic legitimacy. Unless they establish a clearer institutional identity and stronger integration within the local higher education system, they risk being viewed as peripheral rather than prestigious.
The research also broadens theoretical understanding of international education. By incorporating the IBC as a third actor in the push–pull framework, the study challenges the assumption that global learning always requires cross-border mobility. It also refines the concept of global cultural capital, showing that students can now accumulate globally valued credentials and symbolic advantage through domestic avenues. In countries like South Korea, where education is deeply tied to social status, this shift represents an important transformation. The global and the local are no longer opposites but increasingly intertwined within the same institutional spaces.
In conclusion, Korean students’ choices to enroll in US branch campuses reveal a strategic negotiation between aspiration and limitation. These institutions appeal not to those lacking ambition but to those who seek to reconcile global goals with financial and social realities. They reflect a world in which higher education is simultaneously global and local, mobile and immobile. For IBCs to thrive, they must move beyond copying Western models and instead cultivate programs that are meaningful in their local contexts while maintaining international quality.
By Dean Hoke, October 13, 2025 – In the small towns of America, where factories have closed and downtowns often stand half-empty, a small college can be the heartbeat that keeps a community alive. These institutions—sometimes enrolling only a few hundred students—serve as economic anchors, cultural centers, and symbols of hope for regions that might otherwise face decline.
From the farmlands of Indiana to the mountain towns of Appalachia, small colleges generate economic energy far beyond their campus gates. They attract students, faculty, and visitors, stimulate local business, and provide the trained workforce that rural economies desperately need. They also embody something deeper: a sense of identity and connection that sustains civic life.
Economic Impact: Anchors in Fragile Economies
Small colleges are powerful, if often overlooked, economic engines. Their presence is felt in every paycheck, every restaurant filled with students and parents, and every local business that relies on their purchasing power.
Across the United States, nearly half of all public four-year colleges, over half of all public two-year colleges, and a third of private four-year colleges make up the 1,100 rural-serving institutions as identified by the Alliance for Research on Regional Colleges (ARRC). These colleges educate 1.6 million students, accounting for more than a quarter of total U.S. enrollments. Yet their role extends far beyond classrooms and degrees.
Rural-serving institutions are frequently among the largest employers in their counties, especially where other industries have faded. In areas where 35% or more of working-age adults are unemployed, 83% of local colleges are rural-serving, making them pillars of economic stability. Unlike large universities in metropolitan areas, their spending is highly localized—on utilities, food service, maintenance, and partnerships with small vendors.
Economic models underscore their importance. The Brookings Institution found that high-performing four-year colleges contribute roughly $265,000 more per student to local economies than lower-performing institutions, while two-year colleges add about $184,000. In many rural towns, every institutional dollar recirculates multiple times, magnifying its effect.
Beyond direct payroll and procurement, small colleges attract outside dollars. Students and visitors rent housing, dine locally, and shop downtown. Athletic events, alumni weekends, and summer programs bring tourists who fill hotels and restaurants. The IMPLAN consulting group estimated that when a college closes, the average regional loss equals 265 jobs, $14 million in labor income, and $32 million in total economic output—a devastating hit in thin rural economies.
Human Capital and Workforce Development
If small colleges are the economic engines of rural communities, they are also the primary producers of human capital. They educate the teachers, nurses, business owners, and civic leaders who sustain local life.
The Federal Reserve Bank of Richmond describes community colleges as “anchor institutions” that shape regional labor markets. Many partner with local employers to design training programs that meet specific workforce needs—often at minimal cost to businesses. In one case study, a rural college collaborated with an advanced manufacturing firm to tailor instruction for machine technicians, ensuring a steady local labor supply and convincing the company to expand rather than relocate.
Rural-serving colleges are also critical in addressing educational disparities. Only 22% of rural adults hold a bachelor’s degree, compared with 37% of non-rural Americans. This gap translates directly into income inequality: according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture’s Economic Research Service, nonmetro workers with a bachelor’s degree earned a median of $52,837 in 2023, compared with substantially higher earnings for their urban counterparts. In states such as Indiana, Ohio, and Pennsylvania, rural degree attainment lags 10 to 15 percentage points behind state averages.
Beyond Economics: RSIs as Equity Infrastructure
Rural-serving institutions are more than economic engines—they are critical equity infrastructure, often providing the only realistic pathway to higher education for students the system has historically marginalized.
RSIs enroll far higher proportions of high-need students than their urban counterparts. Nearly 50% of undergraduates at RSIs receive Pell Grants, compared to 34% nationally. These institutions also serve disproportionate numbers of first-generation students, working adults, and students from underrepresented communities who lack access to flagship universities.
For many rural students, the local college isn’t a choice—it’s the only option. Geographic isolation, family obligations, and financial constraints make residential college attendance impossible. Research shows that every ten miles from the nearest college reduces enrollment probability by several percentage points. For students without transportation, without broadband for online learning, or without family support to relocate, the local institution is existential.
When rural colleges close, equity suffers most. Displaced students, if they re-enroll at all, face higher debt burdens and lower completion rates. Wealthier students can transfer to distant institutions; low-income students stop out. Communities of color, already underserved, lose ground.
Policymakers often evaluate colleges through narrow metrics: completion rates and graduate earnings. But this ignores mission differentiation. RSIs serve students that flagship universities would never admit, in places that for-profit colleges would never enter, at prices that private colleges could never match. Investing in rural-serving institutions isn’t charity—it’s infrastructure investment in equity, ensuring every region has pathways to economic mobility. If America is serious about educational equity, it must recognize RSIs as essential public infrastructure, not discretionary spending.
Despite these barriers, rural institutions remain lifelines for upward mobility. They offer affordable tuition, flexible programs for working adults, and pathways for first-generation students who might otherwise forgo higher education.
However, the pressures are real. Rural students face tighter finances, higher borrowing costs, and fewer grant opportunities. Nearly half of rural undergraduates receive Pell Grants, but average aid remains lower than that at urban institutions. Many graduates leave rural areas to find higher-paying jobs, a “brain drain” that weakens local economies. Yet for those who stay—or return later—their impact is outsized, driving new business formation, civic leadership, and generational stability.
Example: Goshen College and Elkhart County, Indiana — A Model of Mutual Benefit
The following example illustrates the positive interdependence of a small college and its surrounding community—how shared growth, service, and opportunity can strengthen both the institution and the region it calls home.
Few examples better demonstrate this relationship than Goshen College in northern Indiana. Founded in 1894 by the Mennonite Church, Goshen sits in Elkhart County, a region best known for its manufacturing and recreational vehicle industries. While the area has long been an economic hub, its continued success depends heavily on education and workforce development—both areas where Goshen College has quietly excelled for more than a century.
Goshen employs more than 300 full-time and part-time faculty and staff, making it one of the city’s largest private employers. Its local purchasing—from food services to maintenance and printing—injects millions of dollars annually into the county’s economy. The student body, drawn from across the Midwest and around the world, supports rental housing, restaurants, and small businesses throughout the region.
According to the 2024 Independent Colleges of Indiana Economic Impact Study, Goshen College contributes roughly $33 million each year to the regional economy through employment, operations, and visitor spending. Beyond the numbers, the college enriches community life. The Goshen College Music Center and Merry Lea Environmental Learning Center are regional treasures, hosting performances, lectures, and research programs that attract thousands of visitors annually. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the college partnered with local health officials to serve as a testing and vaccination site—further demonstrating its civic commitment. Its nursing, environmental studies, and teacher preparation programs continue to meet critical workforce needs across Elkhart County and beyond.
Goshen College stands as a model of how a small private college and its community can thrive together. Its example underscores a broader truth: when rural colleges remain strong, the benefits extend far beyond campus—bolstering jobs, sustaining income, and enriching the civic and cultural life that define their regions.
Social and Cultural Role: The Heart of Civic Life
Beyond numbers, the social and cultural influence of rural colleges may be their most irreplaceable contribution. In many counties, the college auditorium doubles as the performing arts center, the gym as the public gathering space, and the library as a community hub.
Rural colleges host art shows, festivals, lectures, and athletics that bring people together across generations. They sponsor service projects, tutoring programs, and food drives that connect students with their neighbors. For residents who might otherwise feel isolated or overlooked, the local college provides a sense of belonging and civic pride.
Research from the National Endowment for the Arts underscores that local arts participation strengthens community bonds and well-being. Rural colleges amplify that effect by providing both venues and expertise. Their faculty often lead community theater, music ensembles, or public workshops—bringing culture to places that might otherwise lack access.
The COVID-19 pandemic vividly demonstrated this social bond. While large universities shifted to remote learning with relative ease, small rural colleges had to improvise with limited broadband access and fewer resources. Yet many became essential service providers—hosting testing centers, distributing food, and maintaining human contact in otherwise isolated communities.
In these moments, small colleges revealed what they have always been: not just educators, but neighbors and caretakers.
Challenges: Fragility and the Risk of Decline
Despite their immense value, small rural colleges operate under fragile conditions. Their scale limits efficiency, their funding sources are volatile, and demographic shifts threaten their enrollment base.
Enrollment Declines and Demographic Pressures.
A steep decline in traditional-age students is projected to start by 2026, with the number of new high school graduates expected to fall by about 13 percent by 2041, according to The Chronicle of Higher Education, March 3, 2025, article “What is the Demographic Cliff”. For rural colleges already competing for a shrinking pool of students, this decline threatens their enrollment base and financial viability. Many have already experienced double-digit enrollment drops since the Great Recession. Rural public bachelor’s/master’s institutions enroll 5% fewer students today than in 2005, while community colleges struggle to recover from pandemic-era losses.
Financial Constraints. Small colleges rely heavily on tuition revenue and relatively modest endowments. According to the Urban Institute, the median private nonprofit four-year college holds about $33,000 in endowment assets per student, compared with hundreds of thousands of dollars per student at elite universities such as Amherst or Princeton. For many rural private colleges, endowment resources are often well below this national median. Their financial models depend heavily on tuition and auxiliary income, leaving them vulnerable when enrollment softens. Fundraising capacity is also limited: alumni bases are smaller and often less affluent than those of major research universities, making sustained growth in endowment and annual giving more difficult to achieve.
Operational Challenges. Compliance, accreditation, and technology costs weigh disproportionately on small staffs. Many rural colleges lack the personnel to pursue major grants or expand programs quickly. Geographic isolation compounds difficulties in recruiting faculty and attracting external partnerships.
Brain Drain and Opportunity Gaps. Even when colleges succeed in educating local students, retaining them can be difficult. Many leave for urban areas with higher wages and broader opportunities. The irony is painful: the better a rural college fulfills its mission of empowerment, the more likely it may lose its graduates.
Closures and Community Fallout. When a small college shuts its doors, the ripple effects are severe. Studies estimate average regional losses of over $20 million in GDP and hundreds of jobs per closure. Local businesses—cafés, landlords, bookstores—suffer immediately. Housing markets soften, municipal tax revenues drop, and cultural life diminishes. It can take a decade or more for a community to recover, if it ever does.
Reversing the Talent Flow: Retention Strategies That Work
The brain drain challenge is not insurmountable. Several states and institutions have pioneered retention strategies that show measurable results.
Loan forgiveness programs specifically targeting rural retention have gained traction. Kansas’s Rural Opportunity Zones offer up to $15,000 in student loan repayment for graduates who relocate to designated counties. Maine provides annual tax credits up to $2,500 for graduates who live and work in-state. Early data suggests these programs can shift settlement patterns, particularly in high-demand fields like nursing and teaching.
The most effective models involve tri-party partnerships: colleges provide education and career counseling, employers offer competitive wages and loan assistance, and municipalities contribute housing support or tax relief. In one Ohio example, a regional hospital, community college, and county government created a “stay local” nursing pathway that reduced turnover by 40% over five years.
Place-based scholarships are also emerging as retention tools. “Hometown Scholarships” provide enhanced aid for students from surrounding counties who commit to working regionally after graduation. When paired with community-engaged learning and local internships throughout the curriculum, these programs cultivate regional identity—shifting the narrative from “I have to leave to succeed” to “I can build a meaningful career here.”
Federal policy could amplify these efforts. A Rural Talent Corps modeled on the National Health Service Corps could leverage student loan forgiveness to address workforce shortages while stabilizing rural economies. The brain drain will never disappear entirely, but intentional investment can shift the calculus from inevitable loss to manageable flow.
Policy Pathways and Strategies for Resilience
Sustaining small colleges—and the communities they support—requires creativity, collaboration, and policy attention.
1. Deepen Local Partnerships. Rural colleges thrive when they align closely with regional needs. Employer partnerships, dual-enrollment programs, and apprenticeships can connect education directly to local labor markets. In Indiana and Ohio, several colleges now co-design health care and manufacturing programs with regional employers, ensuring steady pipelines of skilled workers.
2. Form Regional Alliances. Small institutions can collaborate rather than compete. Shared academic programs, cross-registration, and joint purchasing agreements can reduce costs and expand offerings. Examples such as the New England Small College Innovation Consortium show how collective action can extend capacity and visibility.
3. Diversify Revenue and Mission. Rural colleges can strengthen financial resilience by expanding adult education, microcredentials, and workforce training. Many are converting underused buildings into community hubs, co-working spaces, or conference centers. Others are developing online and hybrid programs to reach place-bound learners in neighboring counties.
4. Increase State and Federal Support. Federal recognition of Rural-Serving Institutions within the Higher Education Act could unlock targeted funding similar to programs for Minority-Serving Institutions. States should adapt funding formulas to reflect mission-based outcomes—rewarding colleges that serve low-income, first-generation, and local students rather than penalizing them for small scale.
5. Encourage Philanthropic Investment. Foundations and donors have historically overlooked rural institutions in favor of urban flagships. Increasing awareness of their impact could mobilize new giving streams, particularly from community foundations and regional philanthropists.
6. Invest in Infrastructure. Broadband access, housing, and transportation are essential to sustaining rural higher education. Expanding digital infrastructure allows colleges to deliver online learning, attract remote faculty, and connect to global markets.
Looking Ahead: The Role of Small Colleges in Rural Renewal
As rural America seeks to reinvent itself in the 21st century, small colleges are uniquely positioned to lead that renewal. They combine local trust with national expertise, and they possess the physical, intellectual, and moral infrastructure to drive change from within.
Their future will depend on adaptability. Colleges that align programs with regional industries, embrace digital learning, and form strategic alliances can thrive despite demographic headwinds. Institutions that cling to older models may struggle.
Yet the measure of success should not be enrollment size alone. A rural college’s value lies in its multiplier effect—on jobs, community life, and civic identity. For many counties, it is the last remaining institution still rooted in the public good.
Conclusion: Investing in Irreplaceable Infrastructure
Small colleges in rural America are far more than schools. They are community builders, employers, cultural anchors, and symbols of local resilience. Their closure can hollow out a county; their success can revive one.
The rural-serving institutions identified by ARRC represent a quarter of U.S. enrollments but touch nearly half the nation’s geography. They serve regions facing population loss, persistent poverty, and limited opportunity—yet they continue to educate, employ, and inspire.
The choice facing policymakers, philanthropists, and citizens is simple: either we invest in these engines of opportunity, or we risk watching the lights go out in hundreds of rural towns.
The question is no longer whether we can afford to support small rural colleges but whether America can afford not to.
Sources and References
Alliance for Research on Regional Colleges (ARRC).Identifying Rural-Serving Institutions in the United States (2022).
Brookings Institution.The Value of Higher Education to Local Economies (2021).
Federal Reserve Bank of Richmond.Community Colleges as Anchor Institutions: A Regional Development Perspective (2020).
National Student Clearinghouse Research Center.High School Benchmarks 2022: National College Progression Rates.
National Endowment for the Arts.Rural Arts, Design, and Innovation in America (2017).
Lumina Foundation.Stronger Nation: Learning Beyond High School Builds American Talent (2024).
National Skills Coalition.Building a Skilled Workforce for Rural America (2021).
IMPLAN Group, LLC.Measuring the Economic Impact of Higher Education Institutions (2023).
U.S. Census Bureau.Educational Attainment in the United States: 2023 (American Community Survey Tables).
Bureau of Labor Statistics.Employment and Earnings by Educational Attainment, 2023.
Goshen College.Economic Impact Report 2022 and institutional data from the Office of Institutional Research.
Dean Hoke is Managing Partner of Edu Alliance Group, a higher education consultancy, and a Senior Fellow for the Sagamore Institute located in Indianapolis, Indiana. He formerly served as President/CEO of the American Association of University Administrators (AAUA). Dean is a champion for small colleges in the US. and is committed to celebrating their successes, highlighting their distinctions and reinforcing how important they are to the higher education ecosystem in the US. Dean is the creator and co-host for the podcast series Small College America.
High school history teacher Antoine Stroman says he wants his students to ask “the hard questions” — about slavery, Jim Crow, the murder of George Floyd and other painful episodes that have shaped the United States.
Now, Stroman worries that President Donald Trump’s push for “patriotic education” could complicate the direct, factual way he teaches such events. Last month, the president announced a plan to present American history that emphasizes “a unifying and uplifting portrayal of the nation’s founding ideals,” and inspires “a love of country.”
Stroman does not believe students at the magnet high school where he teaches in Philadelphia will buy this version, nor do many of the teachers I’ve spoken with. They say they are committed to honest accounts of the shameful events and painful eras that mark our nation’s history.
“As a teacher, you have to have some conversations about teaching slavery. It ishard,”Stroman told me. “Teaching the Holocaust is hard. I can’tnotteach something because it is hurtful. My students will come in and ask questions, and you really have to make up your mind to say, ‘I can’t rain dance around this.’”
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These are tense times for educators: In recent weeks, dozens of teachers and college professors have been fired or placed under investigation for social media posts about their views of slain 31-year-old conservative activist Charlie Kirk, ushering in a slew of lawsuits and legal challenges.
In Indiana, a portal called Eyes on Education encourages parents of school children, students and educators to submit “real examples” of objectionable curricula, policies or programs. And nearly 250 state, federal and local entities have introduced bills and other policies that restrict the content of teaching and trainings related to race and sex in public school. Supporters of these laws say discussion of such topics can leave students feeling inferior or superior based on race, gender or ethnicity; they believe parents, not schools, should teach students about political doctrine.
“It has become very difficult to navigate,” said Jacob Maddaus, who teaches high school and college history in Maine and regularly participates in workshops on civics and the Constitution, including programs funded by the Sandra Day O’Connor Institute. Almost 80 percent of teachers surveyed recently by the institute say they have “self-censored” in class due to fear of pushback or controversy. They also reported feeling underprepared, unsupported and increasingly afraid to teach vital material.
After Kirk’s death Trump launched a new “civics education coalition,” aimed at “renewing patriotism, strengthening civic knowledge, and advancing a shared understanding of America’s founding principles in schools across the nation.” The coalition is made up made up almost entirely of conservative groups,including Kirk’sTurning Point USA, whose chief education officer, Hutz Hertzberg, said in a statement announcing the effort that he “is more resolved than ever to advance God-centered, virtuous education for students.”
So far, no specific guidelines have emerged: Emails to the Department of Education — sent after the government shut down — were not returned.
Some students, concerned about the shifting historical narratives, have taken steps to help preserve and expand their peers’ access to civics instruction. Among them is Mariya Tinch, an 18-year-old high school senior from rural North Carolina. “Trump’s goal of teaching ‘patriotic’ education is actually what made me start developing my app, called Revolve Justice, to help young students who didn’t have access to proper civic education get access to policies and form their own political opinions instead of having them decided for them,” she told me.
Growing up in a predominantly white area, Tinch said, “caused civic education to be more polarized in my life than I would like as a young Black girl. A lot of my knowledge in regard to civic education came from outside research after teachers were unable to fully answer my questions about the depth of the issues that we are taught to ignore.”
Mariya Tinch, a high school senior in North Carolina, at the 2025 Ready, Set, App! competition (second from left). She developed an app to help students get access to policies and form their own political opinions. Credit: Courtesy of Mariya Tinch
Other students are upset about federal cuts to history education programs, including National History Day, a 50-year-old nonprofit that runs a history competition for some 500,000 students who engage in original historic research and provides teachers with resources and training. Youth groups are now forming as well, including Voters of Tomorrow, which has a goal of building youth political power by “engaging,educating, and empowering our peers.”
There will surely be more attention focused on the founders’ original ideals for America as we approach the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence this July. Some teachers and groups that support civics teachers are creating resources, including the nonprofit iCivics, with its “We can teach hard things — and we should” guidelines.
How all of these different messages resonate with students remains to be seen. In the meantime, Jessica Ellison, executive director of the nonprofit National Council for History Education is fielding a lot of questions from history teachers and giving them specific advice.
“They might be anxious about any teaching that could get them on social media or reported by a student or parent,” Ellison told me, noting the strategy she shares with teachers is to focus on “the three S’s –— sources, state standards and student questions.”
Ellison also encourages teachers to “lean into the work of historians. Read the original sources, the primary sources, the secession documents from Mississippi and put them in front of students. If it is direct from the source you cannot argue with it.”
In September, students at Berlin High School in Delaware, Ohio, participated in a sign creation and postcard campaign for a levy on the ballot. Credit: Courtesy Michael LaFlamme
Michael LaFlamme has his own methods: He teaches Advanced Placement government and U.S. history at Olentangy Berlin High School outside of Columbus, Ohio, where many of his students work the polls during elections to see up close how voting works. They learn about civics via a participatory political science project that asks students to write a letter to an elected official. He also encourages students to watch debates or political or Sunday morning news shows with a parent or grandparent, and attend a school board meeting.
“There is so much good learning to be done around current events,” LaFlamme told me, noting that “it becomes more about community and experience. We are looking at all of it as political scientists.”
For Maddaus, the teacher in Maine, there is yet another obstacle: How his students consume news reinforces the enormous obstacles he and other teachers face to keep them informed and thinking critically. Earlier this fall, he heard some of his students talking about a rumor they’d heard over the weekend.
“Mr. Maddaus, is it true? Is President Donald Trump dead?” they asked.
Maddaus immediately wanted to know how they got this false news.
“We saw it on TikTok,” one of the students replied — not a surprising answer, perhaps, given that 4 out of 10 young adults get their news from the platform.
Maddaus says he shook his head, corrected the record and then went back to his regularly scheduled history lesson.
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.
Webinar December 3, 2025 | 1:00 PM (Eastern) Presented by Small College America with support from Edu Alliance and the American Association of University Administrators
We Need Your Questions: To make this conversation meaningful, we need your perspective. We’re asking higher education leaders to take five minutes to complete a short, confidential survey before the event. WEBINAR SURVEY LINK
By Dean Hoke, October 6, 2025: Mergers and closures are not new to higher education. In the 1970s alone, nearly 225 institutions either closed or merged—roughly 7% of all degree-granting institutions at the time. I experienced this personally when my alma mater permanently closed in 2020. Like thousands of alumni, I grieved the loss of a place that had shaped my life. But I also understood something many did not: this wasn’t an isolated tragedy—it was part of a larger historical cycle of growth, contraction, and reinvention.
In the early 1990s, I was directly involved as President of a public television station that merged with a local public radio station. The process was emotional and complex, requiring open communication, transparency, and leadership from every level. As of today, both of these stations exist within one organization and are doing well. Those lessons stayed with me throughout my career in higher education.
During my tenure as President/CEO of the American Association of University Administrators (AAUA), it became evident that higher education was entering a new era of financial strain and demographic pressure. Colleges were being forced to explore collaboration and consolidation not as strategic options—but as survival imperatives.
At the AAUA national conference, we hosted two candid conversations about this reality:
A four-hour off-the-record roundtable session titled “Mergers and Acquisitions: Navigating Higher Ed’s Complex Landscape,” which included two leading higher education attorneys, the head of an acquisition firm specializing in higher education, and the Provost of a university that was being merged.
A public session featuring Dr. Chet Haskell (Antioch University) and Dr. Wendy Heckler (Otterbein University), who shared their groundbreaking work on the Coalition for the Common Good.
Why This Webinar Matters
According to Inside Higher Education’s 2025 Survey of College and University Presidents, one in three presidents at private nonprofit institutions report that their boards and senior leadership teams have had serious discussions about merging or consolidating. Even more telling:
17% believe a merger or acquisition involving their institution is somewhat or very likely in the next five years.
33% expect they may acquire another institution during that same period.
These numbers underscore a critical truth: every institution should be preparing for the possibility of structural change—even those that appear stable today.
That’s why this conversation matters now. It’s not about predicting which colleges will survive. It’s about helping leaders understand how to respond when the discussion moves from theoretical to real—when preservation of mission and identity must be balanced with financial reality.
The Upcoming Webinar
Against this backdrop, Small College America, with the support of Edu Alliance and AAUA, will host a live 90-minute webinar:
“Navigating Higher Education’s Existential Challenges: From Partnerships and Mergers to Reinvention”Tuesday, December 3, 2025 | 1:00 PM Eastern
This will not be another PowerPoint presentation filled with charts and trends. Instead, a panel of leaders who have lived through mergers, partnerships, and reinvention will share what they learned from the inside.
Panelists include:
Dr. Chet Haskell, Former Provost, Antioch University, and key architect of the Coalition for the Common Good
Dr. Barry Ryan, Retired President, Woodbury University, who recently led his institution through a merger with University of Redlands
AJ Prager, Managing Director at Hilltop Securities, specializing in Higher Education Mergers & Acquisitions and Strategic Partnerships
Higher education legal expert to be announced
Dean Hoke and Kent Barnds, co-hosts of Small College America, will moderate the conversation. Our focus is on the human side of institutional transformation—the conversations that happen behind closed doors, the decisions that test leadership resolve, and the strategies that allow communities to emerge stronger.
Registration for this free webinar will begin on November 3rd.
Who Should Attend
This webinar is designed for:
Presidents, provosts, and trustees facing questions of sustainability or succession.
CFOs and senior administrators managing budget pressures or enrollment cliffs.
Board members and advisors preparing for strategic decision-making.
If you’ve heard phrases like “structural deficit,” “strategic alternatives,” or “path to viability” in your recent meetings, this discussion is for you.
Why We Need Your Voice
To make this conversation meaningful, we need your perspective. We’re asking higher education leaders to take five minutes to complete a short, confidential survey before the event. Your input will directly shape the webinar by:
Identifying the most urgent questions institutions are facing.
Prioritizing real-world concerns rather than theoretical discussions.
Allowing panelists to address the issues keeping leaders awake at night.
This is your opportunity to ensure that the session reflects the realities of your campus—not assumptions from the outside. Your identity will remain anonymous; our goal is to understand the questions, not who’s asking them.
Survey closes November 29 to allow time for integration into the program.
For the first time in more than a decade, confidence in the nation’s colleges and universities is rising. Forty-two percent of Americans now say they have “a great deal” or “quite a lot” of confidence in higher education, up from 36 percent last year.
It’s a welcome shift, but it’s certainly not time for institutions to take a victory lap.
For years, persistent concerns about rising tuition, student debt and an uncertain job market have led many to question whether college was still worth the cost. Headlines have routinely spotlighted graduates who are underemployed, overwhelmed or unsure how to translate their degrees into careers.
With the rapid rise of AI reshaping entry-level hiring, those doubts are only going to intensify. Politicians, pundits and anxious parents are already asking: Why aren’t students better prepared for the real world?
But the conversation is broken, and the framing is far too simplistic. The real question isn’t whether college prepares students for careers. It’s how. And the “how” is more complex, personal and misunderstood than most people realize.
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What’s missing from this conversation is a clearer understanding of where career preparation actually happens. It’s not confined to the classroom or the career center. It unfolds in the everyday often overlooked experiences that shape how students learn, lead and build confidence.
While earning a degree is important, it’s not enough. Students need a better map for navigating college. They need to know from day one that half the value of their experience will come from what they do outside the classroom.
To rebuild America’s trust, colleges must point beyond course catalogs and job placement rates. They need to understand how students actually spend their time in college. And they need to understand what those experiences teach them.
Ask someone thriving in their career which part of college most shaped their success, and their answer might surprise you. (I had this experience recently at a dinner with a dozen impressive philanthropic, tech and advocacy leaders.) You might expect them to name a major, a key class or an internship. But they’re more likely to mention running the student newspaper, leading a sorority, conducting undergraduate research, serving in student government or joining the debate team.
Such activities aren’t extracurriculars. They are career-curriculars. They’re the proving grounds where students build real-world skills, grow professional networks and gain confidence to navigate complexity. But most people don’t discuss these experiences until they’re asked about them.
Over time, institutions have created a false divide. The classroom is seen as the domain of learning, and career services is seen as the domain of workforce preparation. But this overlooks an important part of the undergraduate experience: everything in between.
The vast middle of campus life — clubs, competitions, mentorship, leadership roles, part-time jobs and collaborative projects — is where learning becomes doing. It’s where students take risks, test ideas and develop the communication, teamwork and problem-solving skills that employers need.
This oversight has made career services a stand-in for something much bigger. Career services should serve as an essential safety net for students who didn’t or couldn’t fully engage in campus life, but not as the launchpad we often imagine it to be.
We also need to confront a harder truth: Many students enter college assuming success after college is a given. Students are often told that going to college leads to success. They are rarely told, however, what that journey actually requires. They believe knowledge will be poured into them and that jobs will magically appear once the diploma is in hand. And for good reason, we’ve told them as much.
But college isn’t a vending machine. You can’t insert tuition and expect a job to roll out. Instead, it’s a platform, a laboratory and a proving ground. It requires students to extract value through effort, initiative and exploration, especially outside the classroom.
The credential matters, but it’s not the whole story. A degree can open doors, but it won’t define a career. It’s the skills students build, the relationships they form and the challenges they take on along the way to graduation that shape their future.
As more college leaders rightfully focus on the college-to-career transition, colleges must broadcast that while career services plays a helpful role, students themselves are the primary drivers of their future. But to be clear, colleges bear a grave responsibility here. It’s on us to reinforce the idea that learning occurs everywhere on campus, that the most powerful career preparation comes from doing, not just studying. It’s also on us to address college affordability, so that students have the time to participate in campus life, and to ensure that on-campus jobs are meaningful learning experiences.
Higher education can’t afford public confidence to dip again. The value of college isn’t missing. We’re just not looking in the right place.
Bridget Burns is the founding CEO of the University Innovation Alliance (UIA), a nationally recognized consortium of 19 public research universities driving student success innovation for nearly 600,000 students.
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.
