Tag: Higher

  • From Recruitment to Retention: The Impact of AI on Higher Education

    From Recruitment to Retention: The Impact of AI on Higher Education

    Artificial intelligence is influencing every aspect of the higher education experience, from recruitment strategies to long-term student success. Community college, undergraduate, and graduate programs use advanced analytics to predict outcomes, optimize operations, enhance decision-making, and improve the student experience. However, the opportunities and challenges associated with using AI in higher education require careful strategic planning. By understanding AI’s evolving role in enrollment management and retention, higher education leaders can now support students and strengthen institutional outcomes more effectively than ever. 

    Is your institution keeping pace or lagging behind when it comes to educational technology? Liaison’s new whitepaper—From Recruitment to Retention: The Impact of AI on Higher Education—will help you answer that question and begin learning to plan for a better future.  

    Insights include practical tips about AI technology, such as: 

    • Applying AI Strategically 

    Institutions that apply AI tools thoughtfully have the ability to improve processes and results in areas including admissions, student success, and retention. From innovative yield strategies to predictive analytics tailored for community colleges and grad schools, AI is already driving better outcomes by providing higher education institutions with roadmaps for achieving institutional goals and improving student outcomes. 

    • Addressing AI Challenges and Ethical Considerations 

    While the widespread adoption of AI tools in higher ed promises advancements in innovation, efficiency, and the management of student data, it also introduces complex challenges and ethical dilemmas that demand attention. From concerns about data privacy and algorithmic bias to questions surrounding accountability and the societal impact of automation, the rapid rise of AI tools in higher education institutions requires thoughtful, responsible oversight. As the whitepaper explains, that involves exploring the nuances of AI development and implementation, examining the ethical principles at stake, and creating frameworks that prioritize fairness, transparency, and the well-being of individual students and the institutions that serve them. 

    • Achieving Data Readiness 

    Data readiness is essential for strategic enrollment management, allowing colleges and universities to harness AI to make informed decisions that drive success. For starters, creating a data-informed institution involves navigating the overwhelming influx of information to uncover actionable insights while building data literacy among every key stakeholder on campus. By achieving data readiness, educators can align their efforts with student learning needs, improve outcomes, and create a sustainable path forward. 

    It seems like everyone is talking about artificial intelligence and its potential to redefine not just student learning, but the future of higher education itself. But how well do you understand and speak the language of AI? Although much of the language that now informs conversations about innovation and success wasn’t familiar to most people just a few years ago, it’s now mission critical for you and your peers to begin learning how to embrace AI literacy. 

    Envisioning the Future of AI in Higher Education 

    As its capabilities and applications grow in the years ahead, AI will continue to provide new opportunities for colleges and universities to enhance decision making, streamline operations, emphasize academic integrity, and provide predictive insights that guide future strategies. The ongoing integration of AI throughout higher education will apply new scientific insights to holistic application evaluation, personalized student communications, and enrollment workflow automation, among other endeavors.  

    The future of AI in education promises even more sophisticated tools to come, which will further personalize and secure the admissions process. Looking ahead, one thing is clear: Today’s higher education leaders have an unprecedented opportunity to foster greater student success and institutional growth by embracing AI as a tool to help inform their decisions.  

    To learn how to get started, download From Recruitment to Retention: The Impact of AI on Higher Education today.  

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  • Colombia’s Higher Ed Utopia or Illusion? Insights with Javier Botero

    Colombia’s Higher Ed Utopia or Illusion? Insights with Javier Botero

    Latin America sometimes flies below the radar in discussions of global higher education. It’s too poor to have major players in the world-class universities game, but it’s too rich to be among the attention-getting new highfliers like Vietnam. And even within Latin America, not every country gets the same attention. Colombia also kind of flows below the radar, lacking the size of Mexico or Brazil, not punching above its weight like Chile, and not being stark raving tonto like Venezuela. But Colombia actually is pretty special because of the size and shape of its system. It’s actually in the middle of a range of debates going on across the world, making it a kind of miniature of the globe as a whole. A move to gratuidad, like in Chile? Colombia is doing that. Constant pressures on quality assurance, given its 207 public and private institutions? Check. Creating new popular universities on the Mexican model? Yep, that’s happening too. Working out how to improve student loan repayment? Well, ICETEX, the country’s national student loan agency—actually the oldest such agency in the world—is working on that too. In short, this is a country whose thinking on higher education deserves a lot more attention than it usually gets.

    The current government of Colombia, led by left-wing President Gustavo Petro, came to office with big ideas about higher education. But without a majority in Congress, things are not going his way. It’s not clear that he can pay for the gratuidad he promised young voters three years ago during his election campaign.

    With me today is Javier Botero, a lead consultant at the World Bank and formerly the Vice Minister of Higher Education in Colombia. He’s here to walk us through the latest developments in that country around free tuition, student assistance, and an intriguing case of institutional closure at the University of Antioquia.

    This was a fun, fast interview, and I enjoyed it a lot. I hope you do too. So, without further ado, let’s hand things over to Javier.


    The World of Higher Education Podcast
    Episode 3.18 | Colombia’s Higher Ed Utopia or Illusion? Insights with Javier Botero

    Transcript

    Alex Usher (AU): Javier, the last time you were on, we discussed President Petro’s ambitious plans for the higher education sector. One of his goals was to increase enrollment by half a million students. Two years later, have we seen much progress on that promise?

    Javier Botero (JB): Well, really, not as much as one would have expected. Of course, at the very beginning—and I’m sure I said this in that interview—I thought it was far too ambitious, you know, something in the clouds. But I think they’ve achieved about 20–25% of that.

    Mostly, this growth has been in technical education through SENA, this huge public institution that offers free technical education. Very little has happened in private education, where enrollments have actually decreased. Some state universities have increased their enrollments, but much less than what the government expected.

    AU: So it’s as much a shift in enrollments as it is an addition to enrollments.

    JB: That’s right. I mean, it is an addition in some sense because it’s true that some students who would have had difficulty accessing higher education have been able to do so—mainly through technical education or state universities. So there has been an increase in access for students from lower economic sectors of society.

    AU: That’s good. So, late last year—or maybe it was the year before—the president signed a law guaranteeing free tuition at Colombian public universities. Now, we have to be careful about that word because, for instance, in Chile, you have gratuidad, but it only applies to certain students, under specific conditions, like an income cutoff. So, what does the Colombian promise about free tuition consist of? Does it really mean free tuition for everyone?

    JB: Yeah, of course not. But the first thing I’d say is that this isn’t actually a policy of this government—it started under the previous government. What Petro did was clarify some points and widen the scope of the policy. Still—and I’m glad about this—it’s not for everyone. It’s targeted at certain groups, based on income. We have something called estratos, and it’s for the three lowest estratos. There are also other groups included, like Indigenous people, some Afro-descendants, and others who have faced significant disadvantages for years. So, yes, it has restrictions, but this is something Colombia has been working on for about six years now.

    AU: So, it is targeted free tuition, but not just based on income. As you said, there are some ethnic categories involved as well. That’s interesting.

    JB: And not just ethnicity. You all know Colombia has been through a peace process. People involved in or victimized by the violence during that period also qualify for free tuition in public institutions—and there are quite a lot of them.

    AU: All the groups involved in the peace negotiations, or their children, would benefit from this?

    JB: Yeah, and not just them. People who declared themselves victims during the period of violence in Colombia also qualify.

    AU: How much does this commitment cost? I’ve noticed there’ve been stories in the Colombian press about the government losing a tax reform vote just before Christmas, which must make it harder to afford these programs. So what’s the government’s financial ability to keep this promise?

    JB: You know, that’s one of the main issues—and a big question—because no one really knows how much it costs. In Colombia, universities have a lot of autonomy. Each university sets its own tuition, even public ones. So there’s a huge variety in tuition rates.

    Some public universities were almost free for poor students, while others charged tuition based on income, and some had relatively high tuition rates. This diversity makes it very difficult to calculate the cost.

    Chile faced a similar challenge when implementing gratuidad, but I’d say it’s even worse here because of the variation. For example, universities that used to charge very little would continue to receive little funding, while those that charged a lot would get much more. To resolve this, they came up with an average subsidy amount based on factors like the type of university, research output, and number of professors.

    AU: I’s a per-student subsidy based on the institution, not tuition?

    JB: That’s right. That’s the free tuition program.

    AU: I remember in Chile, when they were setting up their policy of gratuidad, they asked a question that made no sense in English: “Where do we set tuition so that tuition can be free?” It was funny, but it made sense in context.

    JB: Exactly, because that determines how much money the university gets from the government per student.

    AU: So I understand that while the government is trying to lower tuition costs, it’s also reducing expenditures on the student loan program, ICETEX. That feels like robbing Peter to pay Paul. What’s the logic behind this—free tuition but lower student aid?

    JB: First of all, free tuition in Colombia is not like in Chile—it’s only for public institutions. Private institutions don’t qualify for free tuition, so they don’t receive any subsidies for it. ICETEX, which is our student loan agency with over 50 years of experience, is mainly used for students attending private universities.

    Your point is valid, though. The logic is mostly ideological—the idea that education should be public and free. The private sector is seen as unnecessary, so the government focuses on public institutions and doesn’t assist students attending private ones.

    But this hasn’t helped at all with the goal of increasing enrollment by 500,000 students. ICETEX’s budget has already been cut, and the situation for 2025 looks critical. Not only because of these ideological choices, but also because of the budget deficit. We’re starting the year already in deficit, and I’m sure ICETEX will face more cuts.

    AU: Javier, I remember that quite early on in his tenure that President Petro seemed to be quite taken by the Mexican model of the Benito Juarez universities in remote locations. Maybe there may be some Venezuelan model he has in mind as well because they’ve opened a lot of new universities too. Has there been much movement on this front in the last two years?

    JB: A little bit, I would say, but also let me add that that’s not a either a new policy either. You know, we did this 20 years ago when I was working with the government with what we called the regional centers of higher education. The idea was to bring higher education to rural and small towns in Colombia because what you see is that for those who can—students from those towns that can go to a university, to higher education—they have to go to the big cities, and most of them stay there. So, it’s actually a brain drain from the small cities to the big cities, and that’s an issue. You really want more equity and homogeneous development in a country.

    So, many countries—Venezuela, at the time we did this, that was 2002 or 2003—were also starting what they called aldeas universitarias, like small-town universities, with the same idea. Mexico did that and has now a big program. But there are still many issues with that. One of them is the academic part—students from these regions have relatively low academic levels, so you have to work a lot to get them to a level where they can actually start a university program.

    The second issue, as with most things, is funding. How do you fund this? Of course, it’s very hard to expect that students will pay tuition to private universities in those regions, and those issues have not yet been resolved.

    AU: Recently—I think it was in September or October—the University of Antioquia in Medellín was the center of some very significant protests, some of which turned a little bit violent. What sparked those demonstrations? Was it something about specific issues at that institution, or was it about wider issues within higher education in Colombia?

    JB: I would say both. It’s wider issues—issues that are common to most universities—but at the University of Antioquia, these issues have brought the institution to a more difficult situation. And it’s really the funding, the financing of the universities. The University of Antioquia was one of those that actually charged very little tuition. Most students paid just a couple of dollars to study a semester, and they increased enrollment numbers significantly. They joined the policy, 10 to 15 years ago, of opening different regional campuses in small towns at very high cost. But they haven’t gotten the money to cover all of that, so they’ve been in a very difficult financial situation.

    Students started asking, “What will happen with this university?” There were delays in paying teachers, especially the type of teachers we have here in Colombia who are not regular faculty but teach specific classes and get paid for those hours. The university delayed those payments, and students and unions joined the protests—particularly the union of those types of teachers. This eventually led to the university closing. The university is now closed, and we are discussing how they will end last year’s final semester. It seems they won’t be able to.

    AU: So, did they close because of the protests, or did they close because they couldn’t make payroll?

    JB: Both. The teachers joined the demonstrations and the strike, so it wasn’t possible to keep the university open. They tried to keep some programs running virtually, using what they had learned from the pandemic, but it’s been very difficult.

    AU: To regain some stability—both there and in the rest of the country—you need a stable government. But the president has never had a majority in Congress. He’s losing key votes on taxes, recently lost a finance minister to a graft scandal, and he’s only about 18 months away from the end of his term. Is there any prospect he regains the initiative and can forge a renewed policy in this area, or is this going to be a really long lame-duck period?

    JB: I think the latter is most probable. It’s been less than three years, and we’ve had three ministers already. It looks like there will be another change in the ministry, so there’s no continuity in policies. The political situation is not getting better—it’s getting worse. As the elections approach next year, it will get even worse. The opposition will polarize further. And President Petro is not the type to try to calm things down; instead, he often throws gasoline on the fire.

    Maybe two years ago, they tried to pass a statutory law on education, but they couldn’t. Now, the minister is talking about passing a law just to change the funding model, which I must say is very archaic. It doesn’t incentivize universities to do much. With free tuition, it pushes them a little to admit more students, but that’s not a good solution because, as we see in Antioquia, it only worsens the problem. I don’t think much will happen in the remaining 20 or 22 months of this administration.

    AU: We’re already seeing the 2026 presidential elections start to take shape. Are any of the leading candidates likely to pursue policies in higher education that are radically different from the current government? You mentioned that, to a large extent, what President Petro is doing is a continuation of the previous government. So, do we expect continuity or change as we head towards those elections?

    JB: I would say there will be very different positions among the candidates. What you said isn’t totally true—Petro kept the free tuition policy, but there are many other aspects behind that. I expect some candidates, like Alejandro Gaviria—who was Petro’s first minister, though only for a few months—will bring higher education to the forefront. Gaviria is already a pre-candidate, and higher education is very popular as an issue because students vote, unlike primary and secondary students.

    Higher education in Colombia needs a deep reform, going far beyond just funding. Funding is an important issue, but the system requires much deeper changes. I expect some candidates will propose strong policies, but we’ll have to wait and see what happens with those proposals and who gets elected. The political situation in Colombia, like in many parts of the world, is very polarized, and in polarized environments, the best choices don’t always get into office.

    AU: Javier Botero, thank you so much for joining us today.

    JB: It was my pleasure. Thank you very much.

    AU: And it just remains for me to thank our excellent producers, Tiffany MacLennan and Sam Pufek, and you—our viewers, listeners, and readers—for joining in. If you have any questions or comments about today’s episode, please don’t hesitate to get in touch at [email protected]. Don’t forget to subscribe to our YouTube channel so you never miss an episode of The World of Higher Education. Join us in one week’s time when our guest will be freelance writer Ben Wildavsky. He and I are going to chat about the 15th anniversary of his influential book, The Great Brain Race. Bye for now.

    *This podcast transcript was generated using an AI transcription service with limited editing. Please forgive any errors made through this service.

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  • Academic unions should adopt neutrality (opinion)

    Academic unions should adopt neutrality (opinion)

    Institutional neutrality at universities is having its moment in the aftermath of a year of nationwide campus protests over the Israel-Gaza war. The list of universities that have adopted neutrality has grown over the course of the past 12 months. The concept necessarily is expanding to include conversations around university investments. Yet, academic unions have slipped under the radar as purveyors of positions on political issues. They should not be neglected in the push for neutral stances except for those that directly pertain to an institutional mission. In the case of the union, this should be to promote labor interests. Professors from a range of ideologies should be able to find common cause for collective bargaining purposes without being forced into supporting other political positions.

    The lack of neutrality of professors’ unions on non-labor-related issues is a pernicious problem. Federal law and some state laws that pertain to unions work to compel professors’ speech. Under the federal National Labor Relations Act, if a majority of private sector workers voting in a union election choose to unionize, all workers in that bargaining unit must be exclusively represented by that union. New York’s Taylor Law requires the same for public employees. And, if workers want the benefits of membership, like voting for union leadership and contracts, they must pay dues.

    While public employees could choose not to be union members before the Supreme Court’s 2017 Janus v. AFSCME ruling, that case now guarantees their right to not pay agency fees. But even if workers wish to eschew membership and not pay fees, they cannot dissociate entirely. They are required to be represented by a union that speaks via statements at the local, state and national level on many non-labor-related subjects. Therefore, with their veneer of solidarity, unions quash viewpoint diversity and suppress First Amendment rights. They tie one of the only forms of dissent possible (withdrawing dues) to disenfranchisement from the union, the organization that negotiates their wages and labor conditions.

    Professors who do stop paying their dues are often derided as “free riders.” They risk offending union leadership, who have a say in university processes that can impact their employment, like grievances and denial of reappointment. The union is formally required to provide equal advocacy as their exclusive representative. However, even if one believes biases will never prevail against “free riders,” there is still the suppressive impact of professors’ perception that paying dues and keeping quiet is best for their careers.

    And so, professors are forced into a kind of protection racket, paying unions that may endorse positions with which they may disagree. The National Education Association has opined on everything from ending private prisons to climate change, from promoting women-led businesses to helmets for motorcyclists. They have issued statements on the Israel-Gaza conflict, advocated for codifying Roe v. Wade into law and called for Donald Trump’s ouster. They have adopted progressive ideological lenses throughout such statements, arguing for instance that “white supremacy culture” is prevalent in the current U.S., and that “intersectionality must be … addressed … in order to advance the [NEA’s] social justice work.”

    To be clear, I am not arguing that these positions taken by unions are bad. I am not reflecting my own political preferences. I am not highlighting progressive examples to critique only progressive examples: I could find none that can be considered conservative. I am not saying that it’s not possible that a majority of members agree with the statements. I am also not arguing that workers do not have the right to form associations to advocate for political causes.

    What I am arguing is that due to laws making exclusive representation compulsory, unions should adopt neutrality on political issues that do not impact the primary purpose of academic unions: advocating for professors’ interests as workers. This lets ideological diversity exist and prevents coerced speech and dues payments. This neutrality is of paramount importance with public sector unions, where union leadership activities may receive taxpayer-subsidized administrative benefits.

    This neutrality should extend to political endorsements of individual candidates. While there may be some argument to be made that endorsing a pro-union or pro–higher education candidate over their opponent directly pertains to professors’ interests as workers, this carries with it implicit endorsement of a wide slate of other policies. A better approach would be for unions to support (or critique) candidates’ specific policy proposals or voting records. It would also reduce antagonism between unions and candidates they did not endorse, should those be elected.

    Recent examples show the perils of academic unions not having a neutrality standard. In 2018, a University of Maine professor sued his union, noting his opposition to its stances, like endorsing Hillary Clinton for president. More recently, in 2022, six City University of New York professors filed suit against the Professional Staff Congress (PSC), which passed a pro-Palestinian resolution they viewed as antisemitic. They resigned their memberships, along with approximately 263 other professors. But because of the Taylor Law, they are required to be represented by the PSC, which did not give evidence it could be fair in representing them. The PSC called them free riders, claiming their lawsuit was “meritless … funded by the notoriously right-wing National Right to Work Legal Foundation,” and described the “‘Right to Work’ agenda” as “rooted in white supremacy.”

    After lower courts ruled to dismiss their suit, the CUNY professors appealed to the Supreme Court, which just this month declined to hear their case. Yet, while this case could have been a victory for viewpoint diversity and free speech and an impetus for unions to get on the institutional neutrality bandwagon, future such suits will doubtless arise and reach a court favorable to their claims. Academic unions should get ahead of such a court ruling and make union membership attractive to all who may want to participate based on advocacy for improved working conditions, but not for particular solutions to international wars—or for wearing motorcycle helmets.

    Colleen P. Eren is a professor of sociology and criminal justice at William Paterson University and a research fellow at the Segal Center for Academic Pluralism. Her commentaries on higher ed and other topics can be found across a range of publications, including The New York Times, Discourse, Reason, and the Foundation for Economic Education.

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  • Q&A with a student success dean, Soka University of America

    Q&A with a student success dean, Soka University of America

    As an undergraduate student, Lisa MacLeod wasn’t sure where her career path would take her. She majored in English literature and international relations with the aspirations of being a journalist or a State Department staffer and found herself back in academia not long after.

    Lisa MacLeod, assistant dean of student success at Soka University of America

    Lisa MacLeod/Soka University of America

    Now, as the inaugural assistant dean of student success at Soka University of America since last fall, MacLeod is charged with breaking institutional silos at the California institution to improve student outcomes after graduation, working collaboratively across campus.

    MacLeod spoke with Inside Higher Ed about her time thus far at the institution, a private liberal arts college, and her aspirations in the long-term.

    Inside Higher Ed: What is your new role at Soka and how does it fit into institutional goals for student success?

    MacLeod: One of the most important things [about my role] is that I am housed under the dean of faculty, so I’m not under the dean of students, which is very different from how a lot of schools have done this.

    My top priority, luckily, isn’t getting students to graduate—because we already are doing that very well as an institution … I’m not just new in the job, the position is new at the university—so there’s some room for me to define what the position is.

    I was asked to look specifically at advising. Right now, our program is all faculty individually advising students for academic advising. Career services and internships is the other side of the house, and historically, the two sides of the house don’t talk to each other very well. So looking at how we advise, but also thinking about, are there ways that we can integrate better, because we have lots of good things happening by different people. But do faculty know about that? Do they know enough about it to recommend it to students? Not so much.

    The other thing is starting to integrate career readiness skills into the curriculum. This year, we are rolling out RATE (Reflect, Articulate, Translate, Evaluate), which was developed by the University of Minnesota for their liberal arts students.

    We’re having our first cohort this coming semester—so beginning in February—of faculty fellows who have pledged to develop the RATE system into their existing course, and we’re supporting them with some training and other kinds of activities so that we’re very specific in the application. We’re not asking you to change your course. What we’re asking is that you make it more evident to students how they are developing career readiness skills in addition to academic and subject area knowledge.

    Inside Higher Ed: You were a double major in college. While interdisciplinary learning can be an asset to students, sometimes academic departments can be more focused on helping students on a specific path within their discipline. Do you have any insights based on your experience as a dual major and helping students find their own path?

    MacLeod: At Soka, we don’t have majors—everyone graduates with a major in liberal arts, and then within that, we have concentrations. Students here do have the opportunity to double concentrate, so they’re not taking as many courses as you would for a major, but there’s still some degree of specialty.

    I encourage them to look at the whole course catalog and say, “Take the classes that really attract you, that are interesting, and you’ll figure out how they connect to each other if you look for it,” and to not worry about double concentrations. Or, you know, force yourself to take courses you wouldn’t otherwise.

    Certainly, I encourage students, depending on what their interests are, if you’re going to go to graduate school, yes, take statistics, take a research methodology course. Do these kinds of courses that are skill building [so] you’ll have that [for] the next level of your education; they will have expected you to have that background.

    But beyond that, I’m really focused on having students maybe try something they wouldn’t otherwise. I wish as an undergraduate I had taken an anthropology class, but it never occurred to me; it just wasn’t on my radar. Explore, because you don’t know what you don’t know, and to really find something that drives them, that they’re really excited about doing the coursework and learning more about that area. Because they’ll put more into it, and as they put more into it, they’re going to develop the liberal arts skills in the process. Whereas, if they’re forcing themselves to take a course because they feel they should take this course, they’re not going to have the same level of motivation. They’re not going to get the same out of it.

    Inside Higher Ed: As you said, one of your priorities is advising, which is so important to the student journey. What does quality advising look like to you?

    MacLeod: I think that quality advising really requires time and listening.

    I always ask students to come in with kind of a worksheet: Where are you [in your progress] toward graduation? Where are you in terms of taking required courses? But I also ask them things like, “OK, this is a required course, but you have a selection of five different faculty members that might be teaching that course, and of course, they bring their skills and expertise and kind of personality in each course. Why did you choose that faculty member? If you’re interested in this, maybe this other faculty member—even though it’s the same requirement—might teach that course in a way that you would find appealing?” And directing them to resources, encouraging them to talk to faculty before they enrolled in the course if they have questions or concerns or if they’re not certain about something.

    Then also asking them very blatant questions that I wish someone had asked me when I was an undergraduate. What are your plans after you graduate? What are you doing to achieve that goal? What information do you need to know, and how are you going to get it moving forward?

    I took time off [after graduating] because I’d never had those conversations. Maybe people at the university thought I was having it with my family. My family may have thought I was having it with people at the university. I’m not sure where I lost the memo, but it just didn’t happen. Before, someone had always come along and said, “Apply for this,” and it was a very structured thing. That’s not how life after graduation works at all. So I ask those questions I wish someone had asked me.

    Inside Higher Ed: What is student success to you?

    MacLeod: It’s not for me to define for someone else what success looks like. I have my own ideas, but I think it’s wrong to impose that on other people, because success can look like so many different things.

    In general, I feel that student success is they graduate from the program, and they feel good about that. That there’s not regret that they should have gone someplace else, but also that we’ve equipped them with the skills in their personal and in their professional life to face the challenges that will inevitably come and to be able to surmount them.

    The first couple years after graduation for everyone is hard—that’s just kind of the nature of the beast—but that they are prepared for, that they can get through it, and know that there’s something on the other side. that they are confident in their skills, that they will figure it out and then end up on the other side in a career that they find fulfilling in some manner, being able to contribute to the community, if that’s their goal, in a way that is meaningful to them. And hopefully happy alumni that are talking to our current students that and sharing their experiences.

    Inside Higher Ed: What are your long-term goals in this new role?

    MacLeod: It feels like so much of academic life is keeping your head above water for now.

    I think that in the long term, I’d really like to see a more collaborative campus culture, where faculty members are supporting each other in their endeavors, maybe a bit more. It’s not that my colleagues are unsupportive, but we don’t always ask each other or are aware of the ways in which our research overlaps and we could actually be doing more—whether it’s with our teaching or where we could be drawing more on each other’s skills and knowledge base.

    I’m still really new at this … so I think right now my priority is still listening, rather than planning for the future.

    Seeking stories from campus leaders, faculty members and staff for our Student Success focus. Share here.

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  • Ducking and covering is no way to protect higher ed

    Ducking and covering is no way to protect higher ed

    This is one of those times I’m glad I’m in charge of only myself. I can’t imagine the pressure of leading an organization—like a higher ed institution—that is dependent on support from the federal government for its literal day-to-day operations.

    Also, I am aware of the old saw about free advice … it’s worth what you pay for it.

    Nonetheless, I’m going to venture some advice for institutions experiencing the assault of the opening 10 or so days of the second Trump presidency.

    Opinions may differ on exactly what is happening, but I’m convinced that New York Times columnist Jamelle Bouie is correct in saying, “Donald Trump is waging war on the American system of government.”

    If you believe this is true, there’s no room for accommodation. Ending democratic governance leaves no room for the kind of higher education that has made the U.S. the envy of the world.

    You’ve got to resist, all of it, actively, with as much countering force as possible. An administration that without notice “pauses” NIH and NSF activities, that even stops disbursement through the Office of Management and Budget, is not merely reorienting the government around the new president’s priorities. It seems clear they either intend to destroy or hobble higher education to make it a vassal state.

    I’ve got myself thinking of a couple of dynamics that I think are important to recognize in the moment.

    One is the problem of “institutional awe,” which I draw from the term “vocational awe,” coined by Fobazi Ettarh from observing the work of librarians such as herself. She calls vocational awe “the set of ideas, values and assumptions librarians have about themselves and the profession that result in notions that libraries as institutions are inherently good, sacred notions, and therefore beyond critique.”

    Ettarh identifies vocational awe as a route to self-exploitation as librarians are called upon to sacrifice their own well-being in order to preserve the operations of the library itself.

    “Institutional awe” is a bit different, and something perpetrated not by the laborers, but by leadership, where it’s judged that the continued operation of the institution is of the utmost importance, no matter the sacrifices required by the individual stakeholders, or the damage to the underlying mission of the institution.

    Under institutional awe, as long as the doors remain open, anything goes.

    There are already some worrying signs of this mentality in terms of some pre-emptive compliance with merely perceived threats from the Trump administration. In some cases, these moves appear to be motivated by a desire for administrations to use Trump policy as a rationale for either seizing more control or silencing dissent that’s causing them headaches. I do not want to think uncharitably of some of the leaders of the nation’s higher education institutions, but “Trump made me do it” appears to be a handy rationale for dodging responsibility.

    In other cases, I think we’re looking at rank cowardice, as in Northeastern University’s decision to purge any public-facing information that even references diversity, equity and inclusion. I suppose this suggests that Northeastern was not particularly committed to these things, as they are setting a land speed record for “obeying in advance.”

    The other big-picture caution I have is something I wrote about recently, to remember that there is always something next, and decisions you make in the present shape what that next thing is going to be.

    It seems clear to me that higher ed institutions are going to be fundamentally different both because of the efforts of Trump and some red state governors to make them over to something that must express fealty to their preferred vision, and simply because we’ve reached an endpoint regarding a prior vision of postsecondary education as something that should be accessible to all.

    A long-standing belief of many conservatives, that too many people go to college—and by too many people they mean women and minority students—that has been simmering under the surface for decades has now come into the open as overt attempts to, in the words of Victor Ray, “resegregate America” under the guise of challenging diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives.

    I understand the urge to treat what’s going on as perhaps elevated but still normal government functioning in line with what happens during any transition from one party to the other holding the White House. Members of the Democratic Party themselves seem to be acting according to this view.

    But how much evidence is necessary to recognize that this is a delusion and that pre-emptive appeasement or ducking and covering while hoping the blows land elsewhere is not going to work?

    While public trust in higher education has declined in recent years—mostly along partisan lines—it does not follow that most Americans would like to see the important work of teaching and research be utterly destroyed.

    As much as possible, institutions should act in solidarity with each other, considering an attack on one institution an attack on all, given that your institution will be next at some point.

    In the words of Alexander Hamilton, as imagined by Lin-Manuel Miranda, “If you stand for nothing, what will you fall for?”

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  • What would a TikTok ban mean for higher ed?

    What would a TikTok ban mean for higher ed?

    Less than two weeks into President Donald Trump’s second term, he’s already testing the limits of executive power.

    As one of his first actions in office, he wielded that power to resume Americans’ access to TikTok—the popular Chinese-owned short-form video app 47 percent of college students use on a daily basis—after the U.S. Supreme Court upheld a law banning it.

    Last April, Congress banned companies from distributing, maintaining or updating a “foreign adversary controlled application,” specifically those “operated, directly or indirectly” by TikTok or its parent company, ByteDance Ltd. As a result, TikTok went dark for about 12 hours two days before Trump, who had previously supported the idea of a TikTok ban, took office. Almost immediately after his inauguration, he issued an executive order halting enforcement of the ban for 75 days, while the administration determines “the appropriate course forward in an orderly way that protects national security while avoiding an abrupt shutdown” of TikTok.

    Some experts say Trump’s order falls into murky legal territory, and TikTok’s fate in the U.S. remains unclear. But banning a social media app that 170 million Americans use as a tool for self-expression and self-promotion would have numerous implications for both college students and their institutions. A 2022 study found two-thirds of teenagers were using TikTok to consume a wide range of information, including news, tutorials, entertainment and advertisements, making it a vital recruiting tool for colleges.

    “TikTok represents a pivotal transition point between what was the social media–driven higher ed of the last 15 years and now the artificial intelligence–powered, immersive digital future that’s going to define the next decade,” said J. Israel Balderas, an assistant professor of journalism at Elon University and a lawyer specializing in First Amendment cases. “TikTok isn’t just a social media platform somehow caught in this geopolitical battle. It represents a transition point in digital history.”

    Last week, Inside Higher Ed asked Balderas five questions about what a TikTok ban would mean for students, faculty and institutions. The interview has been edited for concision and clarity.

    1. What are the implications of a TikTok ban for the culture of higher education?

    TikTok has become a dominant space for student expression, activism and social engagement. For professors, it also has become a place of research and AI literacy. Losing the platform means that student organizers would lose a mobilization tool. TikTok has played a critical role, not just in campus activism—from political movements to social justice campaigns—but it has also been a way for others to communicate and play a role in the marketplace of ideas.

    What’s most concerning to me is the potential chilling effect on student expression. Students will start to question whether other digital spaces will face similar crackdowns. For example, if TikTok can be banned under the guise of national security, what will happen to other foreign-owned or politically sensitive platforms? Will they be next?

    Universities would also lose a primary storytelling platform. You have campus life blogs; you have student-run media accounts. TikTok allows institutions and students to shape their narrative in a way that no other platform currently allows.

    2. Do you think there’s justification for a TikTok ban?

    It depends on how you weigh national security risks versus free speech rights. The Chinese government could potentially use TikTok’s recommendation engine to shape political discourse, suppress content or even promote certain narratives. But we’ve been here before with that. We were here in 1919 with Schenck v. United States and Abrams v. United States that questioned influence from socialists and communists. What we discovered is that the marketplace of ideas theory works and the truth rises.

    While the national security argument is valid, why is TikTok being singled out when U.S.-based platforms with equally invasive data practices, like Meta, Google and X, remain untouched? The First Amendment doesn’t protect the companies from regulation, but it does protect Americans’ right to access information.

    Headshot of man with dark hair in a blue suit

    J. Israel Balderas is a journalism professor at Elon University and a First Amendment lawyer.

    3. Could such a ban really be enforced? What might college students do to get around it?

    Banning a social media app in a free society is incredibly difficult.

    Big tech being so powerful and so close to power in Washington also creates a very gray legal area, because Apple and Google control access to mobile apps. If they refuse to reinstate TikTok, then enforcement becomes a de facto reality even without the government directly blocking access. But what we saw earlier this month, with Trump’s intervention to reinstate TikTok, shows that enforcement can be overridden by executive power. So, it’s unclear how consistently a ban could be applied, but enforcement of a ban is far more complicated than either the courts or Congress can anticipate.

    College students are digital natives, and they adapt to these things by bypassing restrictions. They can use VPNs [virtual private networks], which are already widely used in countries with restricted internet laws, like China. Students could also download it from unofficial sources, instead of the traditional app stores. They can also use alternative apps, like the other, increasingly popular Chinese-owned app, RedNote.

    Somebody will find an emerging app, especially now in the world of AI, where AI is open source. You can take the backbone of TikTok, and with AI and proper coding you can create the same kind of environment as TikTok. So how many more clones out there would that be, right?

    4. How would a TikTok ban shape colleges’ digital literacy efforts in the age of AI?

    A TikTok ban would be a blow to digital literacy and AI education. This is the moment when we need to be talking about AI education and what it means for the workforce, students and us as faculty members, who are teaching that it’s not just about facts and knowledge. It’s about teaching students how to ask the right questions and how to connect the dots.

    TikTok opens the door to asking students what it is the algorithm knows about you, if that’s an ethical thing and if they want it. It’s not about shaming students for their choices. It’s about teaching them to think critically about what they’re doing and then letting them decide what it means for their lives and relationships.

    If the government can decide what content is good or bad for the population, we’d have to rethink what it means to have AI literacy in the curriculum.

    5. TikTok is caught in a geopolitical crossfire. Is there a teachable moment in all of this?

    The fact that we are having these conversations is the best part of this entire fiasco. Because students are questioning if the government can really do these things. What about the future? What about AI? Will the government be able to say that it’s not suppressing speech, but just suppressing the person who’s writing these codes or the person who’s putting these algorithms into the marketplace? Students are at least trying to figure out what is the role the government will play going forward when it comes to ideas that are not popular.

    If they’re being more critical about those things, then as a professor, I’ve done my job.

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  • Ideas for navigating editor-reviewer relationships (opinion)

    Ideas for navigating editor-reviewer relationships (opinion)

    An editor or reviewer can have an outsize impact on the career of a scholar, particularly in the early stages. The stakes can be high for an author. A negative review or edit can set back a research plan by months and harm a scholar’s chances for tenure or promotion. This reality creates a power imbalance between an editor or reviewer and an author that can be abused.

    Graduate schools offer few pointers on how to navigate editor and reviewer relationships. Our goal in this essay is to debunk the process and offer suggestions and observations for editors/reviewers and authors on how to approach the task in a more thoughtful and efficient way.

    Understanding the Reviewer and Editor Roles

    First, it is important to note that while reviewers and editors take part in a similar process—assessing the work of an author—the tasks are different. The editor is rarely an expert in the specific subject of an article and necessarily needs to rely on impartial reviewers to place the work in context. Nevertheless, the editor—and, at times, an editorial board—is the decision-maker in this equation. Having a clear and transparent line of communication between the author and the editor is critical.

    The task of the reviewer is to place the work in its scholarly context and to weigh its merit. Is the work breaking new ground? Is it challenging a long-held interpretation within the academy? Are the sources contemporary and the most relevant? Does the work fit the subject area of the journal or press? Can it be revised to make it suitable for publication?

    It is our strong belief that reviewers need to meet the authors where they are—that is, to understand the goal of the author, determine whether the work is suitable for the journal or press in question and, if so, help them reach the promised land of publication. Simply put: The reviewer should weigh the author’s case against the author’s intent.

    Unfortunately, this does not always happen: It is sometimes the case that reviewers stray from this path and insert suggestions that they would like to see addressed but that are not central to the submitted work. The dreaded “reviewer number 2” has become the bane of many an author’s existence. In this sort of review, the reviewer raises so many questions and objections that an author is left to ponder whether the two are reading the same text. And, it must be said, just as on social media, anonymity can at times lead to incivility. Instead of being helpful, sometimes a reviewer is unkind and cruel.

    The role of the editor is to referee between the goals of the author and the desires of the reviewer. Egos and politics often come into play in this process because reviewers in many cases are colleagues of the editor and contributors to the publication in question. Our experience suggests there are two major types of editors. Authors will need to adjust their approach based on which of these two types best describes their editor:

    • Sympathetic editor: This is the ideal. This editor will work with an author to publish a submission if the research is strong and will allow them to keep their own voice. They do not seek to impose their vision on the book or article. They do not allow their personal politics to influence the decision-making process. They are driven by one central question: Does the author accomplish what they set out to do? This type of editor tries to determine whether a reviewer is acting out of hubris by suggesting tangential and substantial changes or whether they are addressing core issues. On the opposite end of the spectrum, they are alert to the two-paragraph, lackadaisical reviewer who read the work over lunch while answering emails.
    • Visionary editor: It may sound counterintuitive, but an editor with their own vision for someone else’s work can mean frustration and ultimately rejection for an author. This type of editor sees someone else’s work as an opportunity to explore an aspect of a topic that interests them. They impose their own vision on someone else’s work rather than determining whether the author has achieved the goal they set for themselves. This typically takes the form of a lengthy response asking an author to fundamentally rethink their piece. The response contains so many critiques that to adhere to the suggestions would amount to writing a completely different piece of scholarship. This editor also tends to extend and even impede the process almost endlessly.

    As an example, upon the death of Fidel Castro in November 2016, the Latin American historian of this writing duo (Argote-Freyre) was asked by a journal editorial board member to author an article comparing the career of Castro with that of the prior dictator of Cuba, Fulgencio Batista. The resulting piece concluded that the two political figures shared more similarities than differences. The editor, although agreeing to the concept, was unhappy with the conclusions reached by the essay. The editor struck out paragraph after paragraph; a lecture on tone and thesis ensued.

    The editor suggested a piece analyzing the revisionist historiography on Batista—a subject outside the contours of the original assignment and one that would take many months to complete. The author made a rookie mistake in assuming that a member of the editorial board was vested with the authority to make assignments. In retrospect, it seems as if the assignment was foisted upon the working editor, who then wanted to steer the piece in a completely different direction. The author withdrew the piece; the only positive was that only a few months were lost in the process.

    The visionary editor is the type who is never satisfied. They forget that the piece is the author’s, not theirs. Yes, the editor is a gatekeeper for the journal or press, but if it is not a good fit, they should say so and move on. This picky editor sends a revision back to a new third (or fourth) reviewer, who is likely to ask for another, different round of revisions. This is nothing other than moving the goalposts. One of us had this occur with an editor who said, “As you know, we often send articles to several rounds of reviewers.” Well, we did not know, because the journal’s website did not say that. Such a process could go on forever and, to our eyes, makes no sense. The editor should decide on his or her own whether the author has revised sufficiently: It is clear from the reader reports what needed to be done, so just check and see. The editor needs to be decisive.

    At the point a work is about to be sent to an additional set of reviewers, an author needs to withdraw the article or book from consideration. Run as fast as you can in search of another editor and publication. Do not let someone waste your time, especially if your clock is ticking for tenure and promotion.

    How to Make Relationships Work— and When to Walk Away

    The author-editor relationship should be a dance, not a duel. An author is not at the mercy of the process; you are a partner. If you are not clicking with the editor, walk away. A bad first date rarely turns into a good second date. This is particularly true when working on a book project, given the many steps and long timeline involved.

    For a revise-and-resubmit, we suggest strongly that you be professionally assertive. Ask about the review of the resubmission before you do it. If the editor says it will go to new readers, withdraw the piece. This never goes well. Editors should be transparent about the steps involved. It is our experience that some editors are hesitant to divulge their process. If that is the case, the author needs to reassess the integrity of that process.

    Being fully transparent allows you to ask for transparency in return, whether you are an editor or an author. If, as we have experienced, two peer reviews come in that are quite opposed, the editor should get a third before returning to the author. If there are two or three reviews, the editor should synthesize them with a memo attached to the reports. The summary should go something like: “All reviewers agree chapter four needs to be revised with this material, but there is disagreement about chapter six.” There is also nothing wrong with asking the author to make the tough call on a contested point of interpretation. Once again, it is the author’s scholarship, not the editor’s, the journal’s or the press’s.

    For authors: Have a conversation with the editor. If it’s a call, follow up with a written summary. When responding to reader reports, especially when they disagree, say what you will and will not do. Do not say you will revise when you disagree—but don’t be stubborn. Give a little to get what you won’t compromise. If you disagree with a reviewer’s suggestion, say why, and ask the editor for approval not to make a specific change suggested in one of the reader reports. Get that approval. If the editor says the revision will go back to one or both original readers instead of making the final call himself, politely insist that the written exchange between the author and editor be sent along, too.

    It may not always work. Recently, one of us did just what we described and the editor said the plan sounded good, only to have the journal reject the revision. The editorial board said a specific change was not made even though the editor agreed that change would not be necessary. Poor communication and coordination between an editor and an editorial board should not penalize an author.

    Finally, we’d like to briefly weigh in on the argument that professors should reject peer reviewing because it is an unpaid task. If you do not want to do it, don’t—but there are compelling reasons to write responsible peer reviews. First, unpaid labor is not without merit. Even if your tenure and promotion committees might not value the task, that does not mean it is not worthwhile. You’re not paid to volunteer at your local food pantry, but you still do it. Second, people do this for you; it is time to be generous in return. Third, reviewing provides insights into the process for your own work. Peer reviewing keeps you current on trends in the field. Editing and peer reviewing make you a better writer and produce better scholarship. Isn’t that what we all want?

    Frank Argote-Freyre and Christopher M. Bellitto are professors of history at Kean University in Union, N.J., with extensive experience with peer review on both sides of the process. Argote-Freyre, a scholar of Latin American history, serves as a frequent peer reviewer and content editor on various book and article projects. Bellitto, a medievalist, is the series editor of Brill’s Companions to the Christian Tradition and academic editor at large of Paulist Press.

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  • Grant reviews at NSF and NIH still paused

    Grant reviews at NSF and NIH still paused

    Anna Moneymaker/Getty Images

    The Trump administration on Wednesday walked back its plan to freeze trillions in federal grants and loans, though a review of thousands of federal programs continues, along with a pause on grant reviews at the National Science Foundation and National Institutes of Health.

    A federal judge blocked the plan from taking effect Tuesday night, but the proposal, outlined in a two-page memo, raised a number of questions and concerns from higher ed leaders who warned of devastating consequences. Had the order taken effect, it could have cut off millions in federal aid to colleges, though not federal student loans or Pell Grants. Congressional Democrats and others called the decision to rescind the memo a victory but criticized the Trump administration for causing chaos and confusion.

    White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt said on social media that rescinding the memo was “not a rescission of the federal funding freeze,” adding that “the president’s [executive orders] on federal funding remain in full force and effect and will be rigorously implemented.”

    So, the White House is still moving forward with plans to stop funding programs that are at odds with the president’s executive orders. In the last week, President Trump has issued executive orders that banned funding for diversity, equity and inclusion programs and “gender ideology” as well as cracked down on illegal immigration, among other issues.

    In order to comply with those orders, the National Science Foundation halted grant reviews this week, even before the memo from the Office of Management and Budget. The National Institutes of Health also canceled meetings key to reviewing research grant applications.

    The disruption to federal research funding has set university researchers and scientists on edge, and the grant reviews are still on hold, according to numerous sources within the academic research community. On Wednesday, the National Science Foundation said its top priority was to resume funding actions.

    “We are working expeditiously to conduct a comprehensive review of our projects, programs and activities to be compliant with the existing executive orders,” a statement posted online reads.

    NSF said that all grantees must comply with the orders and cease “all non-compliant grant and award activities.”

    “In particular, this may include, but is not limited to conferences, trainings, workshops, considerations for staffing and participant selection, and any other grant activity that uses or promotes the use of diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility (DEIA) principles and frameworks or violates federal anti-discrimination laws,” the statement said. “Please work with your institutional research office to assist you in complying with the executive orders.”

    In addition to the temporary pause, the Office of Management and Budget ordered federal agencies to review more than 2,600 programs by Feb. 7 to ensure they comply with the executive orders. It’s unclear whether that deadline remains now that OMB rescinded the memo.

    At the Education Department, programs subject to review include TRIO, Pell Grants, student loans and grants for childcare on campus, as well as those that support students with disabilities and minority-serving institutions. Currently, neither the $229 million fund for Hispanic-serving institutions nor the $400 million grant program for historically Black colleges and universities is included in the review.

    As part of the review, agencies will have to answer a series of questions for each program, including whether the programs fund DEI, support “illegal aliens” or promote “gender ideology.”

    For programs that might not comply with the executive orders, OMB officials wrote in further guidance sent Tuesday that agency leaders could consult the office “to begin to unwind these objectionable policies without a pause in the payments.”

    Kathryn Palmer contributed to this report.

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  • Raw Deals in Higher Education

    Raw Deals in Higher Education

    In a 2022 interview with Gary Stocker of College Vialbility App, we discussed the idea of bad deals in higher education. And as the College Meltdown advances, we expect many more bad deals to occur, both for institutions and consumers.   

    Already, in early 2025, we have seen documentation of the collapse of St. Augustine University, a 146-year old HBCU in North Carolina. We expect many more collapses and closures like this, and difficult mergers, to occur in the coming years. The immense greed we saw in for-profit higher education a decade ago we’ll see in public and non-profit private education.

    HEI will attempt to document these events not merely as news, but as part of a larger pattern of criminality in US higher education, not just at the institutional level, but at the state and federal level, and with predatory banks and other investors who are working on these deals behind the scenes.  We also plan to explain how this predatory behavior damages communities. Communities with people.  

     

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  • The battle for authority and children’s autonomy

    The battle for authority and children’s autonomy

    Parental rights have emerged as a central battleground in the culture wars, debated in school board meetings, courtrooms and legislative chambers across the country. As conflicts intensify over what children should be taught, how medical decisions should be made and who has the authority to shape their identity, parental rights have taken on heightened significance.

    This debate is more than a struggle between parents and the state—it reflects deeper societal anxieties about identity, autonomy and control. Whether it’s school policies, medical decisions or the family’s role in public life, parental rights have become a lens through which broader cultural and political struggles are waged.

    Why have parental rights become such a cultural and political flashpoint? What do these debates reveal about shifting power dynamics between families, the state and society? How has this issue become a proxy for larger battles over authority, freedom and the future of societal norms?

    Exploring the historical roots, political significance, human meaning and contemporary implications of the parental rights debate reveals how this seemingly private issue mirrors larger societal tensions between individual freedom, state oversight and evolving social values.


    The humanities can offer critical insights into the rise of parental rights as a flashpoint in the culture wars and provide values to guide this debate. Let me suggest how:

    • Historical context: The humanities reveal how parental rights have evolved, shaped by shifts in family, authority and the state’s role. In ancient times, parental authority was nearly absolute, but by the 19th and 20th centuries, the modern state began intervening in child welfare. This historical perspective explains current tensions between family autonomy and state oversight, driven by changes in social structures like the welfare state and education.
    • Philosophical inquiry into authority and autonomy: Moral and political philosophy helps address the tension between parental control, children’s autonomy and state responsibility. This field can provide frameworks for exploring when parental rights should yield to children’s rights or the state’s duty to protect. This philosophical lens allows for deeper, more sophisticated debates on issues such as identity, health care and education.
    • Cultural analysis of identity and norms: Cultural studies examine how parental rights intersect with identity and societal values. Issues like school curricula on race and gender reflect larger cultural anxieties. The humanities can help unpack these tensions, offering insight into how public perceptions of parenting, authority and the state shape political and cultural conflicts.
    • Ethical frameworks: The humanities offer ethical guidance, balancing parental rights with the best interests of the child. They emphasize pluralism, empathy and dialogue in navigating contentious issues, encouraging solutions that respect diverse perspectives while upholding justice and equality.
    • Critical thinking and civic engagement: The humanities foster critical thinking, teaching us to analyze complex issues, consider multiple viewpoints and engage in reasoned debate. This is essential for moving beyond superficial culture wars and fostering informed civic engagement in debates on education, health care and family authority.

    Several contemporary literary works explore the tension between parental rights, children’s autonomy and the role of the state, offering thought-provoking perspectives on these issues.

    Ashley Audrain’s The Push examines the fraught relationship between a mother and her daughter, raising unsettling questions about parental responsibility, nature versus nurture and the state’s role in protecting children from harmful environments. The portrayal of maternal mental health and a child’s disturbing behavior highlights issues of child protection and parental rights, questioning whether the state should intervene in dysfunctional family dynamics.

    Robin Benway’s Far From the Tree explores adoption, biological parenthood and the foster care system, raising questions about the rights of birth parents versus adoptive parents and the state’s role in determining a child’s best interests. Through the lives of three siblings, the novel examines the competing influences of biological family ties and state-structured family systems, revealing the tensions between personal autonomy and state intervention.

    Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go explores the rights of individuals—particularly children—within a society that controls their fate for the benefit of others. The children in this dystopian world are raised for organ donation, raising ethical questions about autonomy, state control and the violation of human rights. The story poignantly depicts state authority overriding individual autonomy, with children treated as resources rather than individuals with rights.

    Celeste Ng’s Everything I Never Told You examines parental expectations and the pressures parents place on children through the lenses of race, gender and societal norms. The tension between parental control and a child’s autonomy is central to the story, as the parents’ unfulfilled dreams for their daughter ultimately alienate her, with tragic consequences.

    In Ng’s Little Fires Everywhere, a custody battle between an affluent white couple and a Chinese immigrant mother explores themes of race, privilege and the rights of biological versus adoptive parents. The novel raises profound questions about who decides what is in a child’s best interest and the state’s role in such decisions.

    Ann Patchett’s The Dutch House revolves around the inheritance of a family estate, creating a bitter conflict that pits parental rights, sibling loyalty and children’s autonomy against one another. The novel grapples with how much control parents should have over their children’s future, especially when material wealth is at stake, revealing the tension between parental decisions and children’s right to shape their own lives.

    Jodi Picoult’s My Sister’s Keeper addresses parental authority and medical ethics as Anna Fitzgerald sues for medical emancipation after being conceived as a bone marrow donor for her sister, Kate, who has leukemia. The novel explores the conflict between parental rights in making medical decisions and the child’s right to bodily autonomy.

    Jill Santopolo’s The Light We Lost depicts a mother’s fight to retain custody of her child amid state intervention due to her lifestyle choices. The story raises critical questions about how much authority the state should have in determining a child’s best interests and when it is appropriate to intervene in private family matters.

    Lisa Wingate’s Before We Were Yours, based on a real-life adoption scandal, highlights the state’s complicity in forcibly removing children from poor families and placing them with wealthy ones. The novel underscores the tension between parental rights, children’s autonomy and state intervention, particularly when class and privilege influence the state’s decision-making process.

    These works provide valuable insights into the ongoing debates over parental authority, children’s autonomy and the state’s role in deciding what is best for the child. They serve as powerful reflections of contemporary social and legal dilemmas and offer students excellent opportunities to engage with these issues in a thoughtful and nuanced manner.


    Historically, parental rights were rooted in the idea that parents should have control over their children’s education and upbringing, shaping their values, beliefs and development. Today, however, this concept has become a flashpoint in broader debates about autonomy, social norms, children’s rights and state power, highlighting the shifting dynamics of authority and freedom in the public sphere.

    Conservatives often advocate for parental rights as a way to preserve traditional values, emphasizing that parents should have the final say in decisions about their children’s education, medical treatment and social identity. These advocates argue that parents are best suited to determine what their children learn in school, how they are treated medically and how they are recognized by society.

    On the other hand, liberals at times defend parental rights when they clash with state restrictions, such as when states prohibit gender-affirming care or impose rules on dress codes or political expression in schools. In these instances, parental autonomy is framed as a defense against government overreach into personal and familial decisions.

    Certain issues also cut across partisan lines, such as when parents oppose vaccine mandates, seek alternatives like homeschooling or advocate for charter schools and school vouchers. These instances demonstrate that the debate over parental rights transcends simple ideological boundaries, touching on deeper concerns about individual choice and state authority.

    Ultimately, the modern fight over parental rights reflects a long-standing tension between family autonomy and state intervention. As societal norms around identity, health care and education evolve, the debate over parental rights reveals the complexities of balancing the needs of the child, the authority of the parent and the responsibilities of the state. This tension has made parental rights a defining issue in today’s political and cultural landscape, influencing not only how children are raised but also how society is structured.

    The outcome of this debate will have profound implications for the future of education, health care and social policy, shaping how society balances individual freedoms with collective responsibilities. The struggle over parental rights serves as a microcosm of larger societal challenges, making it a pivotal issue in the ongoing evolution of modern governance and cultural norms.


    The debate over parental rights reveals significant shifts in the power dynamics between families, the state and society, as well as changing views on authority, autonomy and social norms.

    At its core, the issue of parental rights centers on who gets to make critical decisions regarding a child’s upbringing, education and medical care. Historically, parental authority—especially for middle-class parents—was paramount, with families largely insulated from external intervention, particularly by the state. Parents were viewed as the primary custodians of their children’s moral, educational and physical well-being. This emphasis on family privacy often limited public intervention, even in cases of abuse or neglect.

    However, the state’s role has evolved, particularly in areas like public education, health-care regulation and child protection laws. Starting as early as the 1830s, several legal doctrines increased the state’s ability to intervene within families:

    • Parens patriae is a legal principle granting the state the authority to act as the guardian of individuals who cannot care for themselves, such as minors, the mentally ill or incapacitated individuals. This doctrine, meaning “parent of the country,” allows the state to step in when a child’s welfare is at risk, such as in cases of abuse, neglect or custody disputes. While it justifies state intervention to protect children’s health, safety and education, it also raises tension between family autonomy and state authority.
    • The best interests of the child doctrine guides decision-making in child-related cases like custody disputes, adoption and child welfare. This principle prioritizes a child’s well-being, safety and development over the rights of parents or guardians. In determining a child’s best interests, courts typically consider factors such as the child’s emotional and physical well-being, the stability of their living environment, parental capacity to provide care, and the child’s own preferences, especially as they grow older. Judges, along with social workers and child welfare agencies, use these criteria to make decisions that promote the child’s overall welfare.

    These doctrines reflect broader societal changes in how we view the state’s role in family matters. The shift from a model of near-total parental control to one where the state has the authority to intervene has been driven by the need to protect children’s rights and welfare. However, it also exposes the ongoing tension between parental autonomy and the state’s duty to protect vulnerable children.

    The evolving role of the state in matters of parental rights highlights the delicate balance between protecting children’s welfare and respecting family authority. As societal norms continue to shift, so too will the boundaries between parental rights and state intervention, making this an enduring and complex issue in legal and cultural debates.


    In the late 19th and much of the 20th century, the idea that the state had both the right and duty to intervene in children’s lives to protect their best interests was often applied selectively, disproportionately targeting marginalized and impoverished families. These interventions reflected broader societal prejudices about poverty, class and race and often extended beyond cases of extreme abuse or exploitation to situations of neglect—neglect that frequently resulted from the pressures on single parents or low-income families to work.

    Families in poverty faced heightened scrutiny from the state, as poverty itself was often equated with neglect. Children from poor families were regularly removed from their homes under the assumption that their parents could not adequately meet their material needs. Wealthier families, by contrast, were largely spared such interference, while poor, urban families were subjected to visits from social workers and child protection services, who monitored their living conditions.

    These families were seen as morally deficient, prone to vice and incapable of instilling proper values in their children, according to middle-class reformers. Their child-rearing practices were often deemed inadequate, not based on actual harm but on the biases of those overseeing them.

    While state interventions were intended to protect children’s welfare, they frequently resulted in the disruption of families, severing the bonds between parents and children. For many poor families, the threat of losing their children loomed, not due to abuse or neglect but because of their financial struggles.

    The state’s duty to protect children’s best interests also intersected with racial inequalities. Indigenous and African American families were especially vulnerable to intervention, as white authorities often deemed their cultural practices and parenting styles as inferior or harmful. Black children were disproportionately placed in foster care or removed from their families, reinforcing racial inequality. Indigenous children were forcibly taken from their families, placed in boarding schools or adopted by white families under the pretext of protecting their welfare, with the goal of erasing Indigenous identities through assimilation.

    While many of these interventions were motivated by genuine concern for child welfare, they were also deeply influenced by classist, racist and moralistic attitudes that viewed poverty and cultural differences as threats to children’s well-being. As a result, state intervention often reinforced social inequalities by punishing families for their economic status rather than addressing the root causes of poverty.

    This historical context illuminates the ongoing tensions between the state, family autonomy and social inequality in child welfare today. The legacy of these selective interventions continues to shape modern debates about the role of the state in protecting children and the impact on marginalized communities.


    The contemporary battle over parental rights stems from the increasing involvement of state institutions in areas once considered the sole domain of the family, such as school curricula, health-care decisions (especially around vaccines and gender-affirming care), and the balance between children’s autonomy and parental authority. The state often frames these interventions as efforts to promote the public good, protect children’s welfare or enforce social standards, but they can clash with individual parental preferences.

    This conflict has turned parental rights into a proxy for larger societal debates about authority and freedom. Conservatives, in particular, push back against what they see as government overreach, advocating for greater parental control over education—especially regarding how schools address race, gender and sexuality. They argue that such state involvement undermines the family’s role in shaping children’s values. On the other hand, progressives contend that the state has a duty to protect children from harmful ideologies or practices, such as religiously motivated science denial, intolerance of gender diversity or a lack of comprehensive sex education.

    Parental rights also tap into broader questions of individual autonomy, especially concerning children’s identity and health care. Debates over whether parents should be informed if a child requests a different gender identity at school or whether they should have the final say in health-care decisions for transgender children highlight tensions between children’s emerging autonomy and parental control. In these cases, parental rights are weighed against the belief that children have independent rights, particularly concerning their identity and well-being.

    This debate reflects shifting societal norms around family structures and authority. As traditional family models evolve to include single-parent households, same-sex parents and cohabiting families, the definition of parental rights is being reconsidered. These shifts complicate long-held assumptions about family authority and the state’s role in regulating or supporting diverse family forms.

    The politicization of parental rights reveals broader anxieties about control and autonomy in a rapidly changing society. For conservatives, defending parental rights often serves as a defense of traditional values, viewing the family as a safeguard against progressive cultural changes. For liberals, advocating for state intervention or children’s autonomy is framed as advancing social justice and protecting vulnerable populations from harmful practices.


    In a diverse, politically divided society, addressing the issue of parental rights requires carefully balancing family autonomy, children’s well-being and societal values like equality and justice. Because parental rights touch on deeply personal matters such as education, health care and identity, navigating this debate demands a thoughtful approach that accounts for differing worldviews, cultural values and ethical considerations.

    To best address parental rights, society should adhere to certain moral and ethical principles:

    • The best interests of the child: The child’s well-being must be at the heart of any discussion on parental rights. While parents play a crucial role, their authority is not absolute. Decisions around education, health care and identity should prioritize the child’s physical, emotional and psychological welfare. This principle, widely accepted in legal and ethical frameworks, underscores the understanding that children deserve protection, care and the opportunity to thrive. In health care, for example, choices such as vaccinations or gender-affirming care should center on the child’s long-term health, rather than parental ideologies.
    • Respect for parental autonomy: Parents are central in shaping their children’s values and upbringing, and their autonomy should be respected within reasonable limits. Families vary in their cultural, religious and philosophical beliefs, and a pluralistic society must allow room for those differences. However, this respect must be tempered by recognizing that children are not the property of their parents—they are individuals with rights. As children grow, their autonomy, especially regarding identity and health care, must be increasingly respected.
    • Balance between individual rights and state responsibilities: The tension between family authority and the state’s role in protecting children is a key challenge. The state has a legitimate interest in safeguarding children from harm and ensuring access to quality education and health care. State intervention is justified when parental decisions put a child’s well-being at risk. However, in areas like educational curricula, the state’s role is more nuanced, needing to balance parental preferences with society’s responsibility to provide a broad-based education that fosters critical thinking and prepares children for a diverse world.
    • Protection of children’s emerging autonomy: As children mature, their ability to make decisions grows. The debate over parental rights often involves how much autonomy children should be granted, particularly in personal matters such as gender identity or health care. Ethical considerations demand that as children approach adolescence, their voices and autonomy be increasingly respected, especially in cases where parental rejection could cause harm.
    • Commitment to pluralism and mutual respect: A diverse society must allow families to raise their children according to their cultural and moral values, as long as these do not violate basic human rights or endanger the child. In a politically divided environment, dialogue and mutual respect are essential. The goal should not be to impose a uniform set of values but to find common ground in safeguarding children’s well-being while respecting diversity in parenting styles.
    • Ensuring equality and justice: The debate over parental rights must be informed by a commitment to equality and justice. Marginalized families often face greater scrutiny and state intervention than more privileged families. Policies must ensure that all families are treated fairly and that vulnerable populations are not disproportionately targeted or penalized. This is crucial in areas like education, where equal access to resources must be guaranteed regardless of a family’s background.
    • Transparent decision-making and public accountability: When the state intervenes in parental matters, transparency and accountability are critical. Parents and communities need clear information about why decisions are being made, how rights are being balanced and how they can engage with or challenge these processes. This is especially important in contentious areas like child protection services and educational policies.

    Grounding the debate in these principles—pluralism, justice and mutual respect—will allow society to navigate these complex tensions and create a framework for parental rights that promotes both family autonomy and children’s well-being in an increasingly diverse world.


    The debate over parental rights is not just about the authority of parents—it’s a broader struggle over the future of societal norms, values, children’s autonomy and the balance of power between families and the state. This issue cuts to the core of how we understand freedom, responsibility and the rights of children, revealing deep cultural and political divides.

    The stakes are high. On one side is the preservation of parental authority and family autonomy, rooted in the belief that parents should have primary control over their children’s upbringing, education and health care. On the other side is the state’s responsibility to protect and empower children, ensuring their rights and well-being, especially when parental choices may conflict with broader social values or the child’s best interests.

    In a pluralistic society, navigating these conflicts requires a careful balancing act. Respecting family autonomy is crucial, but so are children’s rights and the state’s role in upholding justice, equality and the well-being of all citizens, particularly the most vulnerable. How we resolve this debate will shape not only the future of parental rights but also the evolving relationship between family authority, child autonomy and the state’s role in safeguarding the interests of its youngest members. This conversation will ultimately define how we balance personal freedoms with collective responsibilities in the fabric of modern society.

    Steven Mintz is professor of history at the University of Texas at Austin and the author, most recently, of The Learning-Centered University: Making College a More Developmental, Transformational and Equitable Experience.

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