Tag: Jobs
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Bernie Sanders Proposes 20,000 Fellowships for American Students to take STEM Jobs from H1B Foreign Workers
Higher Education Inquirer : Bernie Sanders Proposes 20,000 Fellowships for American Students to take STEM Jobs from H1B Foreign Workers
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Johns Hopkins, Caltech settle in antitrust lawsuit
Johns Hopkins University and the California Institute of Technology agreed to settle in a federal antitrust lawsuit that alleges 17 wealthy institutions, known as the 568 Presidents Group, illegally colluded on financial aid formulas and overcharged students for years.
Late Friday, JHU settled for $18.5 million and Caltech for $16.7 million, according to court filings. Both were more recent additions to the group, which was established in 1998. Johns Hopkins joined in November 2021, and Caltech in 2019.
The class action lawsuit was filed in January 2022 and initially implicated Caltech along with Brown, Columbia, Cornell, Duke, Emory, Georgetown, Northwestern, Rice, Vanderbilt and Yale Universities; Dartmouth College; the Massachusetts Institute of Technology; and the Universities of Chicago, Notre Dame and Pennsylvania.
Johns Hopkins was added to the lawsuit in March 2022.
After Friday’s court filing, 12 of the 17 institutions have settled. Altogether the settlement amounts add up to nearly $320 million. Vanderbilt had the largest settlement: $55 million.
The five remaining defendants in the lawsuit—Cornell, Georgetown, MIT, Notre Dame and Penn—have denied wrongdoing and continue to fight the antitrust case in court. The 568 Presidents Group name is a reference to a carve-out in federal law that allowed member institutions to discuss financial aid formulas with immunity from federal antitrust laws due to their need-blind status. Congress created that exemption following a 1991 price-fixing scandal that involved all eight Ivy League universities and MIT.
The legislative carve-out expired in 2022, and the group subsequently dissolved.
However, plaintiffs have argued that defendants did consider financial circumstances and made decisions based on family wealth and donation history or capacity, often admitting students on “special interest lists” with substandard transcripts compared to the rest of accepted classes.
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Historians’ council vetoes Gaza scholasticide condemnation
The American Historical Association’s top elected body has shot down a resolution opposing scholasticide in Gaza, after members who attended its annual convention approved the statement early this month by a 428-to-88 margin.
The association’s elected council, which has 16 voting members, could have accepted the resolution or sent it to the organization’s roughly 10,450 members for a vote. Instead, the council rejected it as the official position of the association.
Jim Grossman, the association’s executive director and a nonvoting member of the council, said the Thursday afternoon vote was 11 to 4, with one abstention. He said the meeting was over Zoom.
The rejected resolution had condemned the U.S. government’s funding of Israel, saying it “has supplied Israel with the weapons being used to commit this scholasticide” and that Israel “has effectively obliterated Gaza’s education system.” Scholasticide is defined as the intentional eradication of an education system.
The resolution also called for a permanent ceasefire and for the association to form a committee to help rebuild Gaza’s “educational infrastructure.”
In a written explanation of the veto, the council said it “deplores any intentional destruction of Palestinian educational institutions, libraries, universities and archives in Gaza.”
However, it considers the resolution to be a contravention of AHA’s “constitution and bylaws because it lies outside the scope of the association’s mission and purpose.” The constitution, the council noted, defines that mission and purpose as “the promotion of historical studies through the encouragement of research, teaching and publication; the collection and preservation of historical documents and artifacts; the dissemination of historical records and information; the broadening of historical knowledge among the general public; and the pursuit of kindred activities in the interest of history.”
Grossman said the vote to approve that explanation was 10 to zero with three abstentions, after some members left the meeting following the veto vote. He said he couldn’t reveal who voted which way in either tally because the discussion was confidential.
“We consider it imperative that council members be able to speak freely and candidly during the meeting, and that’s why they’re not recorded and that’s why we do not quote any individual council members,” Grossman said. “And they did speak freely and candidly.”
Van Gosse, a co-chair and founder of Historians for Peace and Democracy, which wrote the resolution, said “we are extremely shocked by this decision, and disappointed.” He said, “It overturns the democratic decision at that huge [conference] business meeting and the landslide vote.”
Anne Hyde, a council member and a University of Oklahoma history professor, said she voted to veto “to protect the AHA’s reputation as an unbiased historical actor,” noting that the organization does congressional briefings. She also said the current war in Gaza “is not settled history, so we’re not clear what happened or who to blame or when it began even, so it isn’t something that a professional organization should be commenting on yet.”
Asked why she didn’t support sending the resolution to the full membership for a vote, Hyde said, “As a council member, you really are thinking about the full 10,000 people, and it includes high school teachers, people who teach in really difficult circumstances and who don’t agree about this issue.” She said, “You could imagine all kinds of scenarios” where a full membership vote “still wasn’t representative.”
This marks the second time this academic year that the top body of a major scholarly organization has shot down a pro-Palestinian resolution before the group’s full membership could vote on it. In the fall, the Modern Language Association’s executive council rejected a resolution that would’ve also accused Israel of scholasticide—and would’ve gone further by endorsing the international boycott, divestment and sanctions movement against Israeli policy.
Unlike the American Historical Association, the Modern Language Association Executive Council, which has different bylaws, axed that resolution before its convention this month even began.
In February 2022, the AHA council did approve a statement on another current war. It condemned “in the strongest possible terms Russia’s recent invasion of Ukraine” and said, “This act of overt military aggression violates the sovereignty of an independent Ukraine, threatening stability in the broader region and across the world.”
The statement rebutted Russian president Vladimir Putin’s historical justifications for the invasion, saying, “Putin grossly simplifies and distorts Ukraine’s history, essentially erasing its distinct past and rendering it indistinguishable from Russia.” The statement ended with this: “We vigorously support the Ukrainian nation and its people in their resistance to Russian military aggression and the twisted mythology that President Putin has invented to justify his violation of international norms.”
Grossman told Inside Higher Ed Friday that “the Ukraine statement was purely historical. It was well within our scope.” He said, “No serious professional historian in the United States considers Putin’s historical explanation to be anything close to accurate history, so the war itself was based on an abuse of history, and that’s what our statement addressed.” There’s “no such consensus” among U.S. historians on the situation in Gaza, he said.
Two pro-Israel organizations, the American Jewish Committee and the Academic Engagement Network, said they sent a joint letter to the council Thursday urging the veto. The letter calls the scholasticide accusation “preposterous.”
“There is no evidence to suggest that Israel is deliberately and systematically targeting the Palestinian educational system for destruction,” the letter said. “The resolution blatantly ignores the fact that Hamas routinely launches rockets from, and houses its weapons and fighters in, civilian structures and facilities.”
The organizations wrote that “as an institution, the AHA should steer clear of weighing in on contentious political conflicts, particularly when so many members vehemently disagree.” They said such resolutions can “create a hostile and unwelcoming environment for scholars and students who identify as Zionists and those with strong personal, academic and professional ties to Israel.” They further argued that “the association would be better served by adopting a stance of political neutrality on geopolitical issues.”
This story has been updated.
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HBCU leaders prepare for “delicate dance” under Trump
Mississippi Valley State University, a historically Black institution, proudly announced last month that its marching band was invited to perform at Donald Trump’s upcoming inauguration. The university’s president, Jerryl Briggs, described the invitation as a chance to “showcase our legacy” and “celebrate our culture.” A GoFundMe campaign was started in hopes of raising enough money for the Mean Green Marching Machine Band to make its debut on the national stage.
Then the fighting started. Social media exploded with reactions to the move from within and outside of HBCU campus communities, with alumni coming down on both sides of the issue. Some condemned the university for participating in the celebration while others argued the band should embrace its moment in the spotlight. (The band is doing that, heading to the inauguration on Monday.)
The moment felt like déjà vu. During the first Trump administration, in 2017, a group of HBCU leaders spoke with Trump during an impromptu visit to the Oval Office after they met with other government officials. A photo of their interaction with the president went viral, prompting swift backlash and skepticism. “Is it a photo op, is it an opportunity for Trump to put himself next to Black people and smile?” Llewellyn Robinson, a Howard University sophomore at the time, asked The New York Times. “Is that the situation we’re dealing with? Or is it truly a seat at the table?”
The controversy speaks to a tension HBCU leaders face ahead of a second Trump administration, with Republicans controlling both chambers of Congress. On the one hand, they want to foster positive relationships with the powers that be and take advantage of whatever opportunities the new administration can offer their students and institutions. On the other hand, they’re serving communities with deep misgivings about the incoming president.
Most Black voters, 83 percent, voted for Kamala Harris, reported AP VoteCast. And while that’s fewer than the 91 percent who voted for President Biden in 2020, it’s still the vast majority at a time when many Black Americans, including HBCU students, are leery of anti-DEI rhetoric and state laws advanced by Trump supporters. Some have a more tangible worry: that Trump’s talk of abolishing the U.S. Department of Education may threaten the federal financial aid that gets many HBCU students to and through college and helps often cash-starved, tuition-dependent institutions meet their bottom lines.
HBCU leaders and scholars find themselves, once again, thinking through how to navigate a fraught political moment.
“It is sometimes a delicate dance,” said Walter Kimbrough, interim president of Talladega College and the former president of Philander Smith College and Dillard University. He expects some HBCU presidents will avoid “high-profile photo opportunities” with members of the new administration this time around. Even so, “we have to let our constituents know, we have to work with whoever is in the White House. That’s part of the job.”
He also, however, believes part of the job is pushing back on policies that could hurt the sector regardless of who’s in office.
“We need to be consistent on the things that are good for us, to be advocating,” he said, “and the things that we think are problematic, we need to be brave enough to speak up against those, too.”
But doing so can be precarious for HBCU presidents and their institutions, said Melanye Price, a political science professor and director of the Ruth J. Simmons Center for Race and Justice at Prairie View A&M University. “The question is always: Is it better to speak out with the potential of losing whatever ability you have to tend to and care for students, or figure out ways to maneuver within the context that you’re in now and still be able to help students?” Price said.
Efforts to partner with the new Trump administration have already begun. The Thurgood Marshall College Fund, an organization representing public HBCUs, congratulated Trump in a statement after he was elected. They also praised some of the wins HBCUs achieved under his first administration, including the FUTURE Act, which made permanent additional annual funding for minority-serving institutions, and the HBCU PARTNERS Act, which required some federal agencies to submit annual plans describing how they’d make grant programs more accessible to HBCUs.
Michael L. Lomax, president and CEO of the United Negro College Fund, which represents private HBCUs, met with Linda McMahon, Trump’s pick for education secretary, in December. He said in a press release that he found her to be a “good listener” and said they had a “productive discussion” about “issues of importance to HBCUs, HBCU students, the nation’s underserved students and how to improve the avenues of learning for all students.”
“We will continue to work with those elected, because the needs of our institutions and students are urgent,” Lomax added. “Our motto is ‘A mind is a terrible thing to waste,’ but so is an opportunity to advance our HBCU-related goals and objectives.”
Strategies and Priorities
Trump has often touted his support for HBCUs during his first term, arguing in a presidential debate last summer that he “got them all funded,” though HBCU leaders have pointed out that many of these successes were initially pushed forward by Congress and signed by the president. It’s also unclear whether support for HBCUs, a meaningful issue to Black voters, will be as much of an emphasis for Trump in his final term now that he’s no longer striving for re-election.
But HBCU leaders express optimism that they can secure some legislative wins in the next four years, given that support for the institutions has historically come from both sides of the aisle. And they plan to keep it that way.
“While I can’t say what the future may hold, I can say that our most recent interactions with the secretary-designate seemed as if we have reason to be positive about the next steps,” said Lodriguez Murray, UNCF’s vice president of public policy and government affairs.
HBCUs achieved some of their goals in partnership with the first Trump administration, Murray noted, including some loan forgiveness for institutions that received federal disaster relief loans as a result of Hurricane Katrina.
Harry Williams, president and CEO of the Thurgood Marshall College Fund, noted another reason for optimism heading into the new Trump term: Most HBCUs are located in red states, so they’ve always developed and relied on positive relationships with Republican lawmakers.
State-level challenges to DEI programming from Republican lawmakers have ramped up anxieties on HBCU campuses about the state and federal political climate for their institutions in the years ahead, Williams said. But “what we have seen, and we’re hoping to continue” is that those same states are still investing in HBCUs. For example, Tennessee recently coughed up funds to keep Tennessee State University afloat, and Florida has made some sizable investments in HBCUs in recent years, he added.
Williams hopes the incoming administration and Congress will echo those state lawmakers in their treatment of HBCUs. “Our strategy is to continue to partner with both sides and continue to forge relationships and create opportunities for our member schools to come and visit” government officials, he said.
Kimbrough said those visits from HBCU representatives are going to be particularly important in the years ahead. Trump had an HBCU graduate and advocate among the ranks of his first administration, he noted—his former aide Omarosa Manigault Newman. But “right now, he doesn’t have anybody who really knows HBCUs at a close [level],” he said, “so we’ve got to do a lot of teaching and educating them about what we do, what our value is to the country.”
With those ties reinforced, HBCU leaders plan to advocate for a long-held policy wish list: higher annual funding, improvements to campuses’ infrastructure, relief for institutions in debt and increases to the Pell Grant, federal financial aid for low-income students that helps the majority of HBCU students pay for college. HBCU leaders also want federal money for campus safety and security measures after a slew of bomb threats against HBCUs in 2022, which some campus leaders contend was inadequately handled by the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
“We don’t believe that a single student needs to have in their mind that something is happening to their institution simply because of what the institution is and who they are,” Murray said.
Murray noted one more priority: increased funding for the Education Department’s Strengthening Historically Black Colleges and Universities program, from about $400 million per year to at least $500 million, to keep pace with inflation.
Student Fears, Faculty Concerns
The day after the election, students in Price’s class on voting rights at Prairie View A&M discussed the results. The same worry came up over and over again: How will they pay for college if Trump abolishes the Department of Education?
According to data from TMCF, more than 75 percent of HBCU students rely on Pell Grants, federal financial aid for low-income students. Price said it’s natural that students are worried about any policy plans that could destabilize financial aid. “There is a palpable fear about what this new administration will bring and that there’s no one to stop them,” she said.
The students’ often tuition-dependent institutions are also vulnerable if changes in financial aid make it difficult for students to pay; most HBCUs don’t have large endowments or megadonors as a safety net.
University of the District of Columbia professors, worried themselves, described a particular kind of pall hanging over their students ahead of Inauguration Day as they prepare for the Trump administration and new members of Congress to settle into the deep-blue district. To acknowledge and address some of students’ fears and worries, two faculty members organized a pre-inauguration teach-in today. It will begin with mindfulness practices, followed by panel discussions and speakers on Washington, D.C., history and politics and how the transition of power could affect the district.
“Students are concerned about what the city will feel like in terms of its receptivity [and] tolerance around diversity,” said Michelle Chatman, associate professor of crime, justice and security studies and the founding director of the Mindful and Courageous Action Lab at UDC. Since Congress has more sway over D.C. than elsewhere, students also worry about programming and curriculum at the HBCU given restrictions on African American studies pushed by Republican lawmakers in other parts of the country. “We want them to feel empowered, and we want to normalize their feelings of concern.”
Amanda Huron, a professor of interdisciplinary social sciences and political science and the director of the D.C. History Lab at UDC, said a teach-in felt like the obvious move in this tense political moment.
“When we think, ‘well, what can we do in this moment, what can we as a university community do’—what we do is teach,” Huron said.
She acknowledged that HBCUs have a difficult balance to strike right now. “HBCUs in the country, we want to thrive, regardless of what’s going on politically, and we need to, because we need to serve our students,” Huron said. At the same time, “we need to make sure that we are always providing spaces for critical and honest and fact-based conversation, so I think it’s important that we’re able to do both things.”
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How five colleges recognize the National Day of Racial Healing
Racial healing circles, or opportunities for community members to share stories and connect on a human level, are common activities for the National Day of Racial Healing. This year is the ninth observance of the holiday.
AJ Watt/E+/Getty Images
Over the past two decades, higher education has grown exceptionally diverse, enrolling students from all backgrounds and offering opportunities for education and career development for historically underserved populations.
This diversification of the students, staff and faculty who make up higher education also offers opportunities for institutions to promote justice and racial healing through intentional education and programming. One annual marker of this work is the National Day of Racial Healing.
The background: The National Day of Racial Healing was established by the W. K. Kellogg Foundation in 2017 as part of the Truth, Racial Healing and Transformation (TRHT) initiative to bring people together and inspire action to build a more just and equitable world.
The day falls on the Tuesday after Martin Luther King Jr. Day and is marked by events and activities that promote racial healing. Racial healing, as defined by the foundation, is “the experience shared by people when they speak openly and hear the truth about past wrongs and the negative impacts created by individual and systemic racism,” according to the effort’s website.
On campus: The American Association of Colleges and Universities encourages institutions to “engage in activities, events or strategies to promote healing and foster engagement around the issues of racism, bias, inequity and injustice in our society,” according to a Dec. 18 press release. AAC&U partners with 72 institutions to establish TRHT Campus Centers, with the goal of developing 150 self-sustaining community-integrated centers.
Some ways institutions can do this is through organizing activities, inviting faculty to connect course material to racial healing during that week, coordinating events or sharing stories on social media, according to AAC&U.
Here’s how colleges and universities, many that host TRHT Campus Centers, plan to honor the National Day of Racial Healing.
- Baldwin Wallace University in Ohio will host two Jacket Circles for students to participate in storytelling and deep listening to build empathy and compassion. The University of Louisville, similarly, will host Cardinal Connection Circles.
- Emory University in Georgia will hold a three-day event, beginning on Jan. 21, that includes a keynote, lunch-and-learn panel discussion, racial healing circles, and a dinner experience.
- Binghamton University, part of the State University of New York system, will host its first National Day of Racial Healing this year, which includes healing circles, roundtable discussions and art-based initiatives.
- The TRHT Center at Northern Virginia Community College will partner with the Fairfax County Board of Supervisors to issue a formal proclamation in a public forum, acknowledging the importance of the day, a tradition for the two groups.
- The University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa will take a pause today to recognize the overthrow of the Hawaiian kingdom, as well as the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. and the National Day of Racial Healing. The event, Hawai‘i ku‘u home aloha, which “Hawai‘i my beloved home,” honors the past, present and future of the islands.
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Turbulent times require both immediate and long views
I don’t remember where I heard this bit of wisdom, if I read it in a book or someone else told it to me, but it’s something I’ve carried around for a while now: There’s always going to be a next, until there isn’t.
My interpretation is a kind of combination of “this too shall pass” with “time marches on,” along with a reminder of the certainty that at some point all things and all people cease to exist.
(I find that last bit sort of comforting, but maybe I’m weird that way.)
It comes in handy when thinking about both exciting and difficult times. What is happening in a moment is not eternal, and something else will be coming along. In order to make that next thing as positive and beneficial as possible, we have to deal with both the present and those possible futures.
I think this mindset might be helpful to anyone who is considering the coming couple of years for higher education and bracing for the possible impact of a presidential administration that appears hostile to the work of colleges and universities and intends to bring this perceived hostile group to heel. I’m concerned that many institutions are not considering that there’s always going to be a next, and short-term accommodations are going to result in long-term problems.
What comes next will be far worse than it needs to be.
It’s strange to think that institutions that are so well established with such long histories should act with such fragility in the face of present uncertainty, but there are signs of what scholar of authoritarianism Timothy Snyder calls “obeying in advance” everywhere.
As reported by IHE’s Ryan Quinn, Texas A&M, along with other public higher ed institutions in the state, following threats ginned up by right-wing conservative billionaire-backed activist Christopher Rufo, has ended their participation in the PhD Project, a conference meant to help increase the number of doctoral students identifying as “Black, African American, Latino, Hispanic American, Native American or Canadian Indigenous.”
The institutions had previously participated for a number of years but have now rescinded their sponsorship because of Texas law SB 17, banning DEI programs at public universities. Texas governor Greg Abbott threatened to fire A&M president Mark Welsh. Welsh folded, issuing a statement that said, “While the proper process for reviewing and approving attendance at such events was followed, I don’t believe we fully considered the spirit of our state law in making the initial decision to participate. We need to be sure that attendance at those events is aligned with the very clear guidance we’ve been given by our governing bodies.”
The intention behind these attacks by Rufo and his backers is to, essentially, resegregate higher education under an entirely twisted definition of “fairness.” This point of view is ascendant, as multiple states have banned so-called DEI initiatives, and the rolling back of affirmative action in college admissions has already resulted in a decline in Black first-year students, something most pronounced at “elite” institutions.
So, this is now, but in acting this way now, what’s likely to be next? Will Texas A&M regress to a de facto policy of segregation? Is this healthy for the institution, for the state of Texas?
I grant that it is possible that a program of resegregation is consistent with the desires of a majority of the state’s citizens and the elected legislators are simply reflecting the desire of their constituency. If so, so be it … I guess. I wonder how long the institutions can last when it allows Chris Rufo or Elon Musk or Charlie Kirk or any other outside individual or group to dictate its policies. Is this a good precedent for whatever is next?
There’s going to be a next. What happens now will give shape to what that next might be. I worry that the folks making decisions believe there is only the now, not the next.
Thankfully, most of us do not have to make consequential decisions that impact many people working in large institutions, but we can use this framing in considering our individual fates as well.
In a couple of weeks my next book, More Than Words: How to Think About Writing in the Age of AI, will be in the world. I’ve invested a lot in this book, not just time and effort, but some measure of my hopes for my career and the impact my ideas may have on the world of writing and teaching writing.
It is a fraught thing to invest too much into something like a single book. Books fail to launch all the time, as I’ve experienced personally … more than once. Finding the balance between investing sufficient effort to take advantage of the now, while also recognizing that I will have to do something next, has been a bit tricky, but necessary.
Maybe what’s next will be closely related to the now: more speaking, more workshops related to my vision for teaching writing, a truly tangible impact on how we collectively discuss these issues after being more of a gadfly and voice in the woods. But also, maybe this is closer to the end of a cycle that started with a previous book.
To calm my worries, I spend time thinking about what would be next if 50 percent or even 90 percent of what I now do for my vocation and income dried up. This is what I did when it became clear that teaching off the tenure track was not going to continue to be a viable way forward—a process that has put me in this moment.
Imagining a next, I think I would call my local School of Rock and see if they needed someone to teach kids the drums, and I also would get to work on a novel that’s been rolling around my head. I picture that possible next, and while there is a sadness that what I’m hoping to achieve now did not come to fruition, I can also envision real pleasure in that other path.
To preserve their essential mission, institutions must be prepared for turbulence and change by knowing there will be a next. To survive in this time, individuals must both be present in the now and consider what might have to happen next.
Not easy, but always necessary.
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Review of Adamson’s “A Century of Tomorrows” (opinion)
The name of an ambition more than it is of a body of knowledge, the term “futurology” is attributed by one source on word origins to Aldous Huxley. The author of Brave New World is a plausible candidate, of course; he is credited with coining it in 1946. But a search of JSTOR turns up an article from three years earlier suggesting that Oswald Spengler’s The Decline of the West made him the pioneer of “what one may hope will sometime develop into a real science of ‘Futurology.’”
The author of that article was a political scientist and émigré from Nazi Germany named Ossip K. Flechtheim, then teaching at the historically Black Atlanta University; the article itself was published in a historically Black scholarly journal, Phylon. He soon decided that his idea’s time had come.
By 1945, writing in The Journal of Higher Education, Flechtheim advocated for futurology both as an emerging line of interdisciplinary scholarship and as a matter of urgent concern to “the present-day student, whose life-span may well stretch into the twenty-first century.” He was optimistic about futurology’s potential to advance knowledge: Maintaining that “a large number of scholars” concurred on “the major problems which humanity would face” in the coming decades, he announced that “predict[ing] the most probable trends is a task which we have the means to accomplish successfully today.”
But as Niels Bohr and/or Yogi Berra famously put it, “It is difficult to make predictions, especially about the future.” Flechtheim went on to publish landmark contributions to the incipient field of study, surely expecting that a proper social science of the future would be established by the turn of the millennium. But on this point, as in most cases, subsequent history only confirms the Bohr-Berra conundrum.
One rough metric of futurology’s public-intellectual salience over time is how often the word appears per year in publications stored in the Google Books database. The resulting graph shows barely any use of the term before about 1960. But with the new decade there is a sudden burst of activity: a period of steep acceleration lasting about two decades, then collapsing dramatically over the final years of the 20th century. The JSTOR search results show much the same pattern.
And so it is that Glenn Adamson’s A Century of Tomorrows: How Imagining the Future Shapes the Present (Bloomsbury Publishing) approaches the subject with not so much skepticism about futurology’s prospects as a certain irony about its very status as a distinct kind of knowledge. The author, a curator and a historian, attaches Flechtheim’s neologism as a label to a kaleidoscopic array of efforts to anticipate the shape of things to come, whether by analyzing statistical trends, through artistic creativity or in experimentation with new ways of life. The book concentrates on the United States and the 20th century, but inevitably the larger world and earlier history shape the book, which also reflects some 21st-century pressures as well.
Plenty of science fiction novels have done better at imagining life in subsequent decades than think tank projections made in the same era. But comparing prognostications for relative accuracy is not Adamson’s real concern. Whatever means it may employ, the futurological imperative is always to respond to current reality—to its perceived failings or potentials, to the opportunities and terrors looming over the world or lurking just out of sight. Adamson writes that “every story about the future is also a demand to intervene in the present.” The forms of intervention considered include political movements, religious revivals, market research, scenarios for thermonuclear war, hippie communes, the insurance industry and time capsules assembled for future generations to ponder (to give an abbreviated list).
The future’s uncertainty provides a blank screen for projecting contemporary issues in reimagined form and the opportunity to imagine alternatives. (Or to imagine inevitabilities, whether of the encouraging or despairing kind.)
The author takes futurology to have emerged in the 19th century as a response to concerns previously the domain of religious traditions. Utopia and dystopia provide fairly obvious secular analogues to heaven and hell. But there is more to it than that. “For those who no longer saw the future as a matter of revealed truth,” Adamson writes, “new forms of authority stepped in to fill the gap. This is where the futurologists would come in. They would not only make claims about what lies ahead but also somehow persuade others of their ability to see it.”
The grounds for claiming such authority proliferated, as did the visions themselves, in ways resistant to linear narrative. Instead, the author pulls seemingly unconnected developments together into thematic clusters, rather like museum exhibits displayed in partly chronological and partly thematic order.
For example, the futurological cluster he calls the Machine includes the organization Technocracy, Inc., which in the early 1930s won a hearing for its plan to put the entire economy under the control of engineers who would end the waste, bottlenecks and underperformance that had, they purported, caused the Depression.
Enthusiasm for the Technocracy’s social blueprints was short-lived, but it expressed a wider trend. Futurologists of this ilk “set about creating self-correcting, self-regulating systems; conceptually speaking, they became machine builders.” Under this heading Adamson includes enthusiasts for “the Soviet experiment” (as non-Communist admirers liked to call it), but also the market-minded professionals involved in industrial design, especially for automobiles: “The advance planning of annual model changes was a way to humanize technology, while also setting the horizon of consumer expectation.”
Whereas the Machine-oriented visionaries of the early 20th century had specific goals for the future (and confidence about being able to meet them), a different attitude prevailed after World War II among those Adamson calls the Lab futurologists. The future was for them “something to be studied under laboratory conditions, with multiple scenarios measured and compared against one another.” Some of them had access to the enormous computers of the day, and the attention of people making decisions of the highest consequence.
“Prediction was becoming a much subtler art,” the author continues, “with one defining exception: the prediction of nuclear annihilation, a zero multiplier for all human hopes.”
Those who thought life in a Machine world sounded oppressive offered visions of the future as Garden, where a healthier balance between urban and rural life could prevail. A corresponding horror at Lab scenarios spawned what Adamson calls Party futurology. This started in Haight-Ashbury, fought back at the Stonewall and generated the radical feminist movement that still haunts some people’s nightmares.
Missing from my thumbnail sketch here is all the historical texture of the book (including a diverse group of figures, leading and otherwise) as well as its working out of connections among seemingly unrelated developments.
As mentioned, the book is centered on 20th-century America. Even so, “Flood,” the final chapter (not counting the conclusion), takes up forces that have continued to accumulate in the early millennium. Flood-era futurology is not defined either by climate change or digital hypersaturation of attention. The main element I’ll point out here is Adamson’s sense that futurology’s own future has been compromised by an excess of noise and meretricious pseudo-insight.
The floods of dubious information (from too many sources to evaluate) make it harder to establish reality in the present, much less to extrapolate from it. Filling the void is a churn of simulated thought the author calls Big Ideas. “By this,” he writes, “I mean a general prediction about culture at large that initially feels like an important insight, but is actually either so general as to be beyond dispute, or so vague as to be immune to disproof.” Much better, on the whole, is to study the record of futurology itself, with its history as a warning against secular fortune-telling.
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Montana State president to lead APLU
The Association of Public and Land-grant Universities named Montana State University president Waded Cruzado as its next president, according to a Thursday news release.
Cruzado, who has served as chair of APLU’s Board of Directors since 2021, will formally step into the top job at APLU on July 1. Cruzado has led Montana State University since 2010, and last August that she would retire in June 2025.
She replaces outgoing president Mark Becker, who has led APLU since 2022.
“Throughout my life, the history and the impact of land-grant universities and public higher education have provided me, and countless students and families, with inspiration and a call to action. I’ve seen firsthand the life-changing opportunity our public universities provide to their students, their communities, the country, and the world,” Cruzado said in the news release.
Cruzado, who was a first-generation college student, is a native of Puerto Rico.
Gary May, chancellor of the University of California, Davis, who led the search committee that hired Cruzado, described her as “an exceptional leader who brings deep experience in successfully leading a public and land-grant university to impressive new heights.” May also noted her familiarity with the organization given her time as chair of APLU’s Board of Directors.
(The headline was corrected to reflect that Cruzado is retiring before going to APLU.)
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Rise in college applications driven by minority students
The number of first-year applicants this cycle is up 5 percent over January of last year, according to a new report from Common App, and overall applications rose 7 percent.
The growth was buoyed by a sharp uptick in underrepresented students: Latino applicants increased 13 percent, Black applicants by 12 percent and first-generation applicants by 14 percent. Asian applicants rose by 7 percent, while the number of white applicants didn’t change.
A Common App analysis also found that the number of applicants from low-income neighborhoods increased more than those from neighborhoods above the median income level—by 9 percent, compared to 4 percent. And the number of applicants who qualify for a fee waiver is up 10 percent so far.
Geographically, applicant trends seemed to follow broader demographic trends; they surged by 33 percent in the Southwest, with a 36 percent boost in Texas alone, while every other region remained relatively stable. The Western region saw applicants decline by 1 percent.
In general, students are applying to about the same number of schools as last year, with only a 2 percent increase in applications per student. Public institutions have received 11 percent more applications, while private ones have received 3 percent more.
For the first time since 2019, domestic applicant growth outpaced that of international applicants, with the former increasing by 5 percent and the latter slowing to 1 percent. Certain high-volume countries experienced steep declines: The number of applicants from Africa fell by 14 percent, and Ghana in particular saw a 36 percent decrease. Applicants from other increasingly popular source countries for international students surged; Bangladesh, for instance, saw 45 percent growth.
The number of applicants who submitted test scores was about even with the number who didn’t. For the past four years, since test-optional policies were implemented in 2020, no-score applicants have significantly outnumbered those who submitted scores, but institutions returning to test requirements may be swinging the pendulum back.
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Students feel “spammed” by “overload” of university emails
Students feel that they receive “too many emails” from their universities, and they find their institution’s communications “inconsistent, inauthentic and rather annoying,” according to researchers.
A new paper says that an “overload” of emails sent from universities to students means important emails are getting “buried” and that students simply disengage from their inboxes.
The article, based on interviews with students, senior academics and professional staff who typically distribute emails, found that students were more likely to read emails sent by course tutors, whereas they were likely to ignore mass emails sent from unknown senders.
“Students spoke positively about the messages that related to modules they were studying but were critical of the ‘dear student’ mass communications, which most described as ‘irrelevant’ and some described as ‘spam’,” says the paper published in Perspectives: Policy and Practice in Higher Education.
It found students were “remarkably consistent” when filtering their emails, explaining, “They read all the emails relating to their modules, then prioritized the rest using the name of the generator and the subject line. Messages from teaching staff were welcomed, but students rarely read messages from unknown generators, messages sent to all students or newsletters.”
Student services staff said they felt “uncomfortable [and] even guilty” about some of the messages they were asked to distribute, and one student told the researchers, “In my first year, like, there were so many emails being sent out that I basically just gave up.”
However, report co-author Judith Simpson, lecturer in material culture at the University of Leeds, told Times Higher Education that while institutions were “a long way away from optimal communication,” it was “important to note that we measured student perception of email.”
“Some students definitely feel as if they are being spammed, but we don’t actually know how many emails it takes to create that effect. A small number of emails asking you to do life admin might feel like a horrible burden if you haven’t done life admin before,” she said.
The article concedes that “universities are in a difficult situation” and that “students expect to be provided with necessary information but seem unprepared to read it.”
It argues that while this is an “eternal problem” and students failed to read paper handbooks in the pre-email era, “‘overload’ does seem to have been accentuated by the pandemic,” when universities “compensated” for the lack of in-person communication by “reaching out” to students via email. This often included important news, as well as information about “all the good things the university was doing” during this period to support students.
“Staff and students are less likely to meet on campus now that hybrid working is the norm, and the ‘email habits’ developed in the pandemic are still in operation,” the article says.
It suggests that to improve student engagement, universities should consider re-routing well-being messages through personal tutors, and that administrative staff should be introduced to students—virtually or in-person—to increase trust in communications.
