This blog was kindly authored by Joseph Morrison-Howe, former HEPI intern and recent graduate of the University of Nottingham. This blog is the seventh blog in HEPI’s series responding to the post-16 education and skills white paper. You can find the others in the series here, here, here, here, here and here.
Tuition fees rising with inflation serves as a reminder that going to university is a significant financial commitment for the student. In the recent Post-16 Education and Skillswhite paper, the Government commits to making higher education more skills focused because ‘there is a disconnect between what individuals choose to study and the needs of the economy, which limits people’s earning potential’. To achieve this, the Government seems to be leaning towards interventionalist policies. However, since the individuals themselves are involved in a financial decision, then presumably the Government’s desire for growth – that is, boosting average incomes – is largely not at odds with the individual. Therefore improving knowledge and access to information, which makes the individual’s decision more informed, is a viable alternative to interventionalist policy, and the Government’s commitment to providing graduate earning’s data on UCAS could lead the individual to choose courses with higher earnings should they want, which is in line with the Government’s aims whilst improving choice rather than curtailing it.
The Ministerial Foreword to the white paper states that the Government’s ‘defining mission’ of growth ‘relies on providing real opportunities through education and training that lead to real careers.’ In terms of policy, this aim seems to be taking the Government in an interventionalist direction, in an attempt to align what they see as the skills required in the economy with the skills being learnt in post-16 education. For example, by making the modular use of Lifelong Learning Entitlement conditional on the chosen course being aligned with the Government’s Industrial Strategy the Government hopes to create a workforce that is more productive in the jobs that the labour market demands. A more productive workforce is one associated with higher incomes, and so by pushing people towards the skills set out in their Industrial Strategy, the government hopes to achieve growth.
Interventionalist policies such as this, although moderate, can have adverse effects, however. Through the above policy, the Government might succeed in fixing the mismatch of skills learnt and skills demanded by the economy. However, the government cannot consider how happy an individual will be from entering a particular profession, and thus, by prioritising financial returns over choice, the welfare of individuals may be neglected.
It is worth remembering that for each individual, going to university is a financial commitment, but there are several reasons why it is difficult to make an informed decision about the financial aspect of going to university. The financial decision comprises the costs and gains of attending. The costs are difficult to determine because repayment is determined by future earnings, which at 18 is a distant and uncertain prospect. The financial gains are likewise uncertain because of the huge variety between courses as well as individuals, but this uncertainty can be limited. In England, there is a lot of data available on average graduate earnings by course and educational institution. This information is currently available on the Discover Uni website, but is very rarely accessed (see Imperfect Information in Higher Education). Perhaps the disconnect discussed in the recent white paper ‘between what individuals choose to study and the needs of the economy’ could be fixed to some extent by ensuring that when individuals choose what to study, they are in an informed position about earning differentials associated with different courses and institutions. This way, the prospective student has the capacity to make an informed financial decision, but still has complete freedom to study without it being a solely financial decision.
In the white paper, the Government has committed to integrating graduate earnings data into the UCAS website, ensuring the data will be seen and used by more prospective students, as proposed in Imperfect Information in Higher Education. This approach of helping individuals make an informed choice about what and where to study, rather than taking a more interventionalist approach, as a way of fixing the disconnect between study and the skills demanded by the economy, is valuable because it preserves individual choice. Someone who values high pay in return for their studies could use this graduate earnings data to ensure that the course they choose has the capacity to provide this. Someone who wishes to study for the sake of the subject, or someone who wants to study something that leads to a particular low-earning job because it will make them happy, has complete freedom to make this choice. This policy, by preserving choice and improving access to information, can promote government aims such as growth whilst letting people choose what they want.
The economics of higher education are tricky. It’s a labour-intensive industry, and generally speaking the cost of producing labour-intensive goods will always increase faster than the price of producing capital intensive goods, because the latter have more scope for increasing productivity. That’s not a problem if you are a public institution in a country with bottomless pockets, or if you are a prestigious private institution with almost unlimited ability to raise prices. If you’re among the other 99 percent of the world’s institution, though, you have to find ways to balance rising costs with new sources of income. But every money-making scheme comes with problems…and costs! So which one to choose?
Today’s guest is Joshua Travis Brown, from Johns Hopkins University’s School of Education. He’s the author of a new book called Capitalizing on College: How Higher Education went From Mission-Driven to Margin-Obsessed, which follows the fortunes of a number of institutions who try out different strategies to try to keep themselves afloat. Some try to double-down on a historic place-based residential mission and charge higher fees; others try to find ways to generate revenue that can cross-subsidize their historic place-based activities. But what’s particularly intriguing about this book is that his subject institutions are all religious institutions. Not only does that mean no core public funding: it means that decisions about how to find new business lines all really have to pass a test of God vs. Mammon.
This really is one of the best higher education books of the year and I was so pleased we could get Josh on the show. I won’t spoil the fun any more: here’s Josh.
The World of Higher Education Podcast Episode 4.6 | Capitalizing on College: Mission, Money, and Survival in Higher Ed with Joshua Travis Brown
Transcript
Alex Usher (AU): Josh, your book is one of my favorite kinds of higher education books—lots of real, if disguised, institutional case studies. I get the impression that what you were trying to do was look at different financial strategies to cope with the phenomenon of ever-rising costs in higher education—Baumol’s disease, basically. How did you choose those eight institutions for your case studies? And why did you focus only on religious institutions, which I thought was a really intriguing choice?
Joshua Travis Brown (JTB): Thanks, Alex. That’s an excellent question to open with. I was looking around at the world, and a lot of what we in higher education base our norms on are the best practices maintained by elite institutions—those that accept only about five to nine percent of applicants. But then there’s the other ninety-one to ninety-five percent of institutions that don’t have those kinds of resources, and their world looks radically different.
One group I focused on are what we call tuition-driven institutions in the American sector. That’s actually a very diverse set of schools that, I’d argue, form the backbone of American higher education—at least in terms of its diversity. These include Hispanic-serving, minority-serving, HBCUs, predominantly Black, religious, women’s, Asian American, vocational, and regional colleges, among others.
Within that really rich and diverse group, the largest by far are the religious colleges and universities in the United States. There are roughly a thousand of them—Protestant, Catholic, some Buddhist, Mormon, Muslim, and Jewish institutions as well. I chose to sample primarily from the Protestant group. And the reason for that choice is that I was interested in behavior, not belief.
The perspective I argue is most valuable is one that looks at behavior that cuts across institutional types, rather than staying within silos and making what I’d call an erroneous assumption that, “This sector operates this way, and that sector operates that way.” I argue instead that everyone is in competition with one another—and to truly understand the sector, you have to look at behavior across all types.
AU: Based on your work at these institutions, you developed a four-part typology with four types of institutions. You call them those following a Traditional Strategy, a Pioneer Strategy, a Network Strategy, and an Accelerated Strategy. How did you come up with those four? Were they in the back of your mind when you selected the cases, or did they emerge organically from the research?
JTB: This is purely grounded theory—straight from the data. What I’m arguing here is that I’m looking within what I call the “missing middle.”
A lot of higher education research tends to focus on what I call the bookends—students on one end, and government or the state on the other. But we don’t do a great job, as researchers, of really diving in to hear the voices of those actually running and leading the institutions.
So as I started to look at the data, pull out themes, and group them into buckets, these four strategies emerged. There was even a fifth one beginning to appear, which I called Accelerated Networks—where the accelerated institution was trying to crack the code to move to the next level of market-oriented behavior. So yes, they surfaced organically from the research.
AU: Let’s talk about that Traditional Strategy. What does it entail? What kind of resources does it take to implement? And how easy is it to, you know, for lack of a better word, win using this strategy?
JTB: The Traditional Strategy is your typical higher education institution that values prestige. They’re constantly looking to the elites.
There’s a whole sector of “little Ivys,” “public Ivys,” and “mini Ivys” that sit just below the Ivy League institutions, and they’re really trying to leap forward into that group. These institutions not only value prestige, but they also operate under the assumption of an in-person education. As one president told me, “You come to a tradition.” He repeated that phrase several times. These institutions rely heavily on building their brand, climbing the rankings, ensuring their athletics are top-notch, and gaining national exposure through sports. They want to become household names.
The problem for traditional institutions—and really, for all institutions—is that the residential, on-campus, in-person model of higher education in the United States operates at a deficit. It must be subsidized.
For the traditional institutions, that subsidy comes primarily from endowments—the spinoff revenue that supports the residential model. And the key takeaway from the book, across all these strategies, is that everyone is trying to subsidize the residential core. What differs is how they do it.
The traditional model depends on philanthropists, wealthy donors, and the prestige that fills their sails. They can call on endowments of two, three, four, five, six, even eight hundred million dollars—and the revenues those spin off—to make their operations sustainable. Or at least, so they think.
AU: Tell us about the second strategy then. You’ve got a Pioneer Strategy. What does that mean—and where do those subsidies come from, if we can put it that way?
JTB: From this point forward in the book, everything turns entrepreneurial. These institutions no longer look to endowments—because they don’t have them. So, for the next six schools in the book, every president is basically saying, “I don’t have an endowment. I need to find margins—and I need to find them somewhere.”
And what they do is turn to students. That’s where they find their margins.
In the Traditional Strategy, as I mentioned earlier, the assumption was that you come to the institution for the tradition—to receive it, to be inculcated into it. The Pioneer Strategy turns that idea on its head. These institutions ask, what if we took the classroom to the students?
That’s the innovation here. Every one of the next strategies has some kind of innovation at its core. In many ways, this book is a story—or a playbook—of innovation. That’s what I hope readers take away: not just the strategies, but the innovative practices themselves.
So, these institutions took classrooms to hotels. They took classrooms to schools and high schools, to shopping malls, to military bases. They went to where the customer was. The classroom became reconceived—portable. And they picked a type.
I take readers through three different types in that chapter, and then show how they replicate it. Whatever region they’re in, what you end up seeing is a giant branch campus model built around that one specific type.
You’ve got multiple sites, but all following the same formula. And all of the revenue—say, a 20% profit margin—from those branch campuses flows back to the core institution. That’s how they rebuild the core.
Over the course of a decade, they can raise anywhere from two hundred to five hundred million dollars—and they use that money to physically transform and rebuild the residential campus.
AU: But all those markets you’re talking about—it’s really just mature students, right? Are there other pioneer markets you can go to besides mature students?
JTB: The principle here is that these institutions were first movers. They were the first movers in adult education at the time.
For readers today—if I’m a leader picking up this book and asking, “What’s the takeaway here?”—I’d say: think badgification, think microcredentials. Think of some new market that’s just about to spin off or is moments away from being spun off.
Anyone who goes all in on that kind of emerging market would be a pioneer institution. They’d be adopting the Pioneer Strategy for that new market—just as these institutions did about a decade ago.
AU: Does it work? I mean, it takes money to make money, right? You’ve got to rent the hotel rooms, pay the professor to go there and teach. It sounds like you have to be extremely margin-conscious—and at a certain point, it’s easy to overshoot, to overcommit to these kinds of things. So how many of the institutions you looked at actually managed to reinforce the residential core?
JTB: They did—but by the time I arrived on campus, the folks in the Traditional bucket were saying, “Oh my gosh, we need a new strategy.”
Meanwhile, the folks at the Pioneer institutions were saying, “Hey, this has worked for about five to seven years, but the competition is so intense it’s eating into our margins. Other institutions are moving into our space. It’s getting really hard to recruit. We need to add a new market.”
And that’s the principle behind the Network Strategy. Rather than having one type, they add multiple types. That’s the big difference between the two: the Pioneer Strategy has one type with multiple sites, while the Network Strategy has multiple types, multiple sites—and it’s global.
AU: Let’s talk now about that Network Strategy. Just as you were finishing there, I think you were saying the difference between the Pioneer and Network strategies is how many new markets you go after. Is it more than that, or is that really the key distinction between the two?
JTB: No, that’s the big difference—because again, what we’re really trying to figure out here is: how are you subsidizing your residential model? It never makes enough money on its own. So where are you finding those margins? And those margins always come from the periphery.
For the Network Strategy, one of the presidents I interviewed described what he called his tabletop strategy for running the institution. He said, “The residential core is the tabletop. All of my peripheral markets—whether online, international, transfer, or adult education—those are the legs. And I’m constantly looking for new legs, new sources of revenue, to support this tabletop.” He went on to say that the tabletop—the residential core—is what gives legitimacy to the entire model. You can’t do this without the tabletop.
And that’s the key difference between the Network Strategy and something like the University of Phoenix. Phoenix was essentially one giant leg. What they lacked—and what people criticized them for—was legitimacy. They didn’t look like a traditional college, and they weren’t serving typical students.
That’s why this book and this perspective are so valuable: when nonprofit institutions start going after the same students or adopting some of the same practices as for-profit institutions like Phoenix, the lines begin to blur. To really understand what’s happening, you have to look across types and sectors—and focus strategically on the behavior itself.
AU: Is that an easier strategy to pull off than the Pioneer one? I mean, it sounds harder to me—but it might also have bigger rewards, since it spreads the risk across different types of markets.
JTB: That’s absolutely key, Alex. One of the presidents I interviewed put it exactly that way. He said, “I’m trying to build a stock portfolio of enrollment. If one sector goes down, I still have another three or four sectors over here, so a drop in one leg isn’t going to sink the ship.” What they were striving for was balance. But both institutions, in their enthusiasm for adding new legs, made a critical mistake—they actually ended up creating a second tabletop.
They either absorbed another institution or built a massive campus overseas—in one case, in Asia. And instead of funneling all of their margins back to the residential core, they had to start directing them to these peripheries, to that second tabletop.
It became really complex. Morale declined. And by the time I arrived on campus, they were looking for a new kind of market—something they could take to scale. And that’s what the next school managed to crack.
AU: Let’s talk about that last strategy—the one you call the Accelerated Strategy. It’s an amazing case study, especially because it’s a religious institution. As you put it, it’s where God and Mammon really start to duke it out.
This is an institution that seems to have crossed the line from being merely margin-conscious to acting like a full-on for-profit college. And that’s wild for a faith-based organization. Tell us about this institution—and how going down this route changes a university.
JTB: You know, what’s crazy is that I changed all the names of the actual schools in the book—but when a school named its competitors, I left those in.
So as I’m interviewing the leaders at the accelerated institution, they’re saying, “Hey, we’re like ASU. We’re like Penn State. We’re like the Maryland system. We’re like Western Governors, UCF, Florida, Southern New Hampshire University.” And they viewed that entire group of schools as their competitors. The way they took their model to scale was through process and product innovation.
I was sitting across from the provost, and he told me, “I had a vision. I pictured an old country store. Down one side of the store was one product, and down the other side was another product—and that’s all we had to sell.” Those two products were an MBA and an interdisciplinary studies degree. At that time, if you wanted to earn a degree online from this institution, those were your only two options. But then he had this transformative idea. Over the course of a single summer, he took roughly 35 to 80 residential courses and converted them for online delivery. Within three to six months, that old store suddenly had 35 different products on the shelves.
And here’s the key innovation: everyone else at the time was selling online classes. This institution became one of the first—outside of Phoenix—to sell online degrees. They fundamentally shifted the product, and that move blew up their market. Virtually overnight, they went from 8% to 42% growth.
AU: Wow. But surely it changed the culture of the campus?
JTB: It did. People talked about the tension between the residential and online sides of the institution. The student population ballooned so dramatically that it went from being majority residential to, essentially, for every ten online students, there was one residential student. It radically transformed the institution. They were able to hold costs flat.
Now, the other entrepreneurial schools I studied were funneling their margins back into overhauling the residential campus. That’s what I call margin capitalization. Instead of looking for donors or venture capitalists, they turned to students.
This particular school made so much money—just north of two hundred million dollars a year—that they were not only able to completely rebuild their campus, but also to put hundreds of millions into their endowment.
What this institution effectively invented is a new form of philanthropy that I call margin philanthropy. Instead of relying on alumni—graduates who go out into the world and eventually give back—you’re leveraging the loans of students who are currently enrolled. They become your new philanthropists.
The risk of construction and the growth of the endowment aren’t borne by the institution anymore; they’re borne by the students themselves—who walk away with a degree in one hand and a student loan, anywhere from fifty to a hundred thousand dollars, in the other.
AU: The problem of ever-rising costs—Baumol’s disease, basically—is one that plagues every educational institution. Only by spending more money every year can you hope to stay in place. But achieving that means raising more money every year.
And I read your book as being fairly pessimistic about any institution’s ability to sustain that in the long run. Right? You can have all the strategies you want to increase revenue, but they all require hiring more staff, becoming more complicated—and then Baumol just reappears further down the line. Is that a fair summation? Do you think one of these strategies is actually more promising than the others? Or does Baumol’s law come for all of us eventually, no matter what?
JTB: I think one of the big takeaways from the book is that this sector is constantly marching upward in its market behavior.
When I arrived on these campuses, everyone was saying, “We’ve got to sustain. We need more. We need more revenue. We need more margins.”
Now, while Baumol, as an economist, has one way of looking at the world, I don’t think it’s entirely accurate. He was, after all, an economist from several generations ago. What’s spun out of economics since then is the field of strategy and management, which focuses more on the agency of actors within organizations.
Those working in strategy and management began to explore that agency—to explain the world in a more nuanced way. And that’s where this book differs from Baumol’s framework: it’s grounded in organizational theory, strategy, and management.
What you end up seeing—and what the book focuses on—is this: we often hear about public policies, particularly from the Federal Reserve in the U.S., that are based on the idea that if you increase competition and give students choice, the natural outcome will be higher quality. As institutions compete, quality should improve—at least in theory.
But what this book shows is that when you incentivize students to be more self-interested and to make market-based choices, you also incentivize institutions to be more self-interested.
That’s why we see institutions going after student loans and seeking margins from students—they’re also operating in a highly competitive market.
So, what this book illustrates are the trade-offs between mission and money that college leaders are forced to make when we choose to design a national education system based on market principles of competition. And that, I’d contend, is a challenge much bigger than Baumol himself.
AU: You’ve focused obviously on one group, the non–research-intensive private institutions, and a particular sub-sector within that. How much can you generalize from this book to other types of institutions—secular ones or public ones?
JTB: That’s a great question. The reason I narrowed the focus so tightly is that, in case studies, what you want to do is control for noise. So rather than mixing all types of tuition-driven institutions together, I chose one type and looked at the behavior across those cases.
But I would contend that because I’m really examining a single phenomenon—tuition—and specifically two questions: how do students get their money, and what do institutions do with it?—this framework is broadly applicable. And honestly, in the last six months especially, I think everyone is becoming tuition-driven.
We’re seeing decreases in research funding revenues, decreases in endowment revenues because of higher taxes. This morning’s headline from the Secretary of Commerce said they want to go after 50% of all patent revenue. And just yesterday, it was announced that all MSI funding would be decreased. The only stable thing left is tuition revenue.
What Capitalizing on College offers is a roadmap for how these institutions managed to survive in a highly competitive environment—and now everyone is entering that same space. So yes, I believe it’s highly generalizable, because this is the roadmap forward. This is the environment we’re heading into.
AU: Joshua Travis Brown, thank you so much for joining us today.
JTB: Thanks. A pleasure being here.
AU: And that just leaves me to thank our excellent producers, Sam Pufek and Tiffany MacLennan—and of course, you, our listeners and readers, for joining us.
If you have any comments or questions about today’s podcast, or suggestions for future episodes, please don’t hesitate to get in touch at [email protected].
Join us next week when our guest will be Luiz Augusto Campos, professor of sociology and political science at the Instituto de Estudos Sociais e Políticos at the State University of Rio de Janeiro. He’s the co-author of a new book on the effects of racial quotas in Brazilian universities. Join us next week. Bye for now.
*This podcast transcript was generated using an AI transcription service with limited editing. Please forgive any errors made through this service.Please note, the views and opinions expressed in each episode are those of the individual contributors, and do not necessarily reflect those of the podcast host and team, or our sponsors.
This story was originally published by CalMatters. Sign up for their newsletters.
This fall, every high school in California was supposed to offer ethnic studies — a one-semester class focused on the struggles and triumphs of marginalized communities.
But the class appears stalled, at least for now, after the state budget omitted funding for it and the increasingly polarized political climate dampened some districts’ appetite for anything that hints at controversy.
“Right now, it’s a mixed bag. Some school districts have already implemented the course, and some school districts are using the current circumstances as a rationale not to move forward,” said Albert Camarillo, a Stanford history professor and founder of the university’s Center for Comparative Studies in Race and Ethnicity. “But I’m hopeful. This fight has been going on for a long time.”
California passed the ethnic studies mandate in 2021, following years of debate and fine-tuning of curriculum. The class was meant to focus on the cultures and histories of African Americans, Asian Americans, Native Americans and Latinos, all of whom have faced oppression in California. The state’s curriculum also encourages schools to add additional lessons based on their student populations, such as Hmong or Armenian.
The course would have been required for high school graduation, beginning with the Class of 2030.
But the state never allotted money for the course, which meant the mandate hasn’t gone into effect. The Senate Appropriations Committee estimated that the cost to hire and train teachers and purchase textbooks and other materials would be $276 million. Some school districts have used their own money to train teachers and have started offering the class anyway.
Accusations of antisemitism
Meanwhile, fights have erupted across the state over who and who isn’t included in the curriculum. Some ethnic studies teachers incorporated lessons on the Gaza conflict and made other changes put forth by a group of educators and activists called the Liberated Ethnic Studies Model Curriculum Consortium. That’s led to accusations of antisemitism in dozens of school districts.
Antisemitism has been on the rise generally in California, not just in schools. Statewide, anti-Jewish hate crime rose 7.3% last year, according to the California Department of Justice. In Los Angeles County, hate crimes — including slurs— against Jewish people rose 91% last year, to the highest number ever recorded, according to the county’s Commission on Human Relations.
Those numbers in part prompted a pair of legislators to propose a bill addressing antisemitism in California public schools. Assembly Bill 715, which is now headed to Gov. Gavin Newsom, would beef up the discrimination complaint process in schools and create a statewide antisemitism coordinator to ensure schools comply. Another bill, which died, would have directly addressed antisemitism in ethnic studies classes by placing restrictions on curriculum.
‘On life support’
But the delays and public controversies have taken a toll. No one has tracked how many schools offer ethnic studies, or how many require it, but some say the momentum is lost.
“It’s already on life support and this could be one more arrow,” said Tab Berg, a political consultant based in the Sacramento area.
Berg has been a critic of ethnic studies, saying it’s divisive. A better way to encourage cultural understanding is to eliminate segregation in schools and ensure the existing social studies curriculum is comprehensive and accurate, he said. “We should absolutely find ways to help students appreciate and understand other cultures. But not in a way that leads to further polarization of the school community.”
Carol Kocivar, former head of the state PTA and a San Francisco-based education writer, also thinks the class may be stalled indefinitely.
“I think the people who supported ethnic studies didn’t realize they were opening a can of worms,” Kocivar said. “Until there’s an agreement on the ideological guardrails, I just don’t see it moving forward on a broad scale.”
Kocivar supports the ethnic studies curriculum generally, but thinks it should be woven into existing classes like English, history and foreign language. That would leave room in students’ schedules for electives while still ensuring they learn the histories of marginalized communities.
Schools moving ahead
In Orange County, nearly all high schools are offering ethnic studies as a stand-alone elective course or paired with a required class like English or history. Teachers use curriculum written by their districts with public input, drawn from the state’s recommended curriculum. They also have the option of adding lessons on Vietnamese, Hmong or Cambodian culture, reflecting the county’s ethnic makeup.
“The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive,” said Marika Manos, manager of history and social science for the Orange County Department of Education. “Students see themselves in the curriculum and in the broader story of America. … It’s a wonderful opportunity for them to get some joy in their day.”
A handful of districts are waiting to see if the state authorizes funding, but the rest have found their own money to hire and train teachers and purchase materials. There was some pushback against Santa Ana Unified when two Jewish civil rights groups sued, claiming the district’s ethnic studies courses contained antisemetic material. The district settled earlier this year and changed the course curriculum.
Polarized political climate
Camarillo, the Stanford professor, said the national political climate “no question” has had a significant effect on the ethnic studies rollout. Parents might have genuine concerns about what’s being taught, “but we’re also seeing the impact of extremist groups that are fomenting distrust in our schools.”
He pointed to book bans, attacks on “woke” curriculum and other so-called culture war issues playing out in schools nationwide.
But the fight over ethnic studies has been going on for decades, since the first student activists pushed for the course at San Francisco State in the 1960s, and he’s hopeful that the current obstacles, especially the fights over antisemitism, will eventually resolve.
“I hate to see what’s happening but I think there’s hope for a resolution,” he said. “Ethnic studies can help us understand and appreciate each other, communicate, make connections. I’ve seen it play out in the classroom and it’s a beautiful thing.”
‘A really special class’
In Oakland, Summer Johnson has been teaching ethnic studies for three years at Arise High School, a charter school in the Fruitvale district. She uses a combination of liberated ethnic studies and other curricula and her own lesson plans.
She covers topics like identity, stereotypes and bias; oppression and resistance; and cultural assets, or “the beautiful things in your community,” she said. They also learn the origins of the class itself, starting with the fight for ethnic studies at San Francisco State.
Students read articles and write papers, conduct research, do art projects and give oral presentations, discuss issues and take field trips. She pushes the students to “ask questions, be curious, have the tough conversations. This is the place for that.”
She’s had no complaints from parents, but sometimes at the beginning of the semester, students question the value of the class.
“When that happens, we have a discussion,” Johnson said. “By the end of the class, students learn about themselves and their classmates and learn to express their opinions. Overall students respond really well.”
Johnson, who has a social studies teaching credential, sought out training to teach ethnic studies and feels that’s critical for the course to be successful. Teachers need to know the material, but they also need to know how to facilitate sensitive conversations and encourage students to open up to their peers.
“It’s a really special class. I’d love to see it expand to all schools,” Johnson said. “The purpose is for students to have empathy for each other and knowledge of themselves and their communities. And that’s important.”
ASHE COUNTY, N.C. — In the time it took to read an email, the federal money vanished before Superintendent Eisa Cox’s eyes: dollars that supported the Ashe County school district’s after-school program, training for its teachers, salaries for some jobs.
The email from the Department of Education arrived June 30, one day before the money — $1.1 million in total — was set to materialize for the rural western North Carolina district. Instead, the dollars had been frozen pending a review to make sure the money was spent “in accordance with the President’s priorities,” the email said.
In a community still recovering from Hurricane Helene, where more than half of students are considered economically disadvantaged, Cox said there was no way they could replace that federal funding. “It is scary to think about it, you’re getting ready to open school and not have a significant pot of funds,” she said.
School leaders across the country were reeling from the same news. The $1.1 million was one small piece of a nearly $7 billion pot of federal funding for thousands of school districts that the Trump administration froze — money approved by Congress and that schools were scheduled to receive on July 1. For weeks, leaders in Ashe County and around the country scrambled to figure out how they could avoid layoffs and fill financial holes — until the money was freed July 25, after an outcry from legislators and a lawsuit joined by two dozen states.
“I had teachers crying, staff members crying. They thought they were going to lose their jobs a week before school,” said Curtis Finch, superintendent of Deer Valley Unified School District in Phoenix.
About $1.1 million was at stake for the Ashe County school district in western North Carolina this summer when a portion of K-12 schools’ federal funding was frozen. Credit: Ariel Gilreath/The Hechinger Report
Now, as educators welcome students back to classrooms, they can no longer count on federal dollars as they once did. They must learn to plan without a playbook under a president intent on cutting education spending. For many districts, federal money is a small but crucial sliver of their budgets, potentially touching every part of a school’s operations, from teacher salaries to textbooks. Nationally, it accounts for about 14 percent of public school funding; in Ashe County, it’s 17 percent. School administrators are examining their resources now and budgeting for losses to funding that was frozen this summer, for English learners, after-school and other programs.
So far, the Trump administration has not proposed cutting the largest pots of federal money for schools, which go to services for students with disabilities and to schools with large numbers of low-income students. But the current budget proposal from the U.S. House of Representatives would do just that.
At the same time, forthcoming cuts to other federal support for low-income families under the Republican “one big, beautiful bill” — including Medicaid and SNAP — will also hammer schools that have many students living in poverty. And some school districts are also grappling with the elimination of Department of Education grants announced earlier this year, such as those designed to address teacher shortages and disability services. In politically conservative communities like this one, there’s an added tension for schools that rely on federal money to operate: how to sound the alarm while staying out of partisan politics.
For Ashe County, the federal spending freeze collided with the district’s attempt at a fresh start after the devastation of Helene, which demolished roads and homes, damaged school buildings and knocked power and cell service out for weeks. Between the storm and snow days, students here missed 47 days of instruction.
Cox worries this school year might bring more missed days: That first week of school, she found herself counting the number of foggy mornings. An old Appalachian wives’ tale says to put a bean in a jar for every morning of fog in August. The number of beans at the end of the month is how many snow days will come in winter.
“We’ve had 21 so far,” Cox said with a nervous laugh on Aug. 21.
Fragrant evergreen trees blanket Ashe County’s hills, a region that bills itself as America’s Christmas Tree Capital because of the millions of Fraser firs grown for sale at the holidays. Yet this picturesque area still shows scars of Hurricane Helene’s destruction: fallen trees, damaged homes and rocky new paths cut through the mountainsides by mudslides. Nearly a year after the storm, the lone grocery store in one of its small towns is still being rebuilt. A sinkhole that formed during the flooding remains, splitting open the ground behind an elementary school.
Ashe County Schools Superintendent Eisa Cox visits classrooms at Blue Ridge Elementary School during the first week of the school year in Warrensville, N.C. Credit: Ariel Gilreath/The Hechinger Report
As students walked into classrooms for the first time since spring, Julie Taylor — the district’s director of federal programs — was reworking district budget spreadsheets. When federal funds were frozen, and then unfrozen, her plans and calculations from months prior became meaningless.
Federal and state funding stretches far in this district of 2,700 students and six schools, where administrators do a lot with a little. Even before this summer, they worked hard to supplement that funding in any way possible — applying to state and federal grants, like one last year that provided money for a few mobile hot spots for families who don’t have internet access. Such opportunities are also narrowing: The Federal Communications Commission, for example, recently proposed ending its mobile hot spot grant program for school buses and libraries.
“We’re very fiscally responsible because we have to be — we’re small and rural, we don’t have a large tax base,” Taylor said.
When the money was frozen this summer, administrators’ minds went to the educators and kids who would be most affected. Some of it paid for a program through Appalachian State University that connects the district’s three dozen early-career teachers with a mentor, helps them learn how to schedule their school days and manage classroom behavior.
The program is part of the reason the district’s retention rate for early career teachers is 92 percent, Taylor said, noting the teachers have said how much the mentoring meant to them.
Also frozen: free after-school care the district provides for about 250 children throughout the school year — the only after-school option in the community. Without the money, Cox said, schools would have to cancel their after-school care or start charging families, a significant burden in a county with a median household income of about $50,000.
Sixth grade students make self-portraits out of construction paper during the first week of the school year at Blue Ridge Elementary School in Warrensville, N.C., in August. Credit: Ariel Gilreath/The Hechinger Report
The salary for Michelle Pelayo, the district’s migrant education program coordinator for nearly two decades, was also tied up in that pot of funding. Because agriculture is the county’s biggest industry, Pelayo’s work in Ashe County extends far beyond the students at the school. Each year, she works with the families of dozens of migrant students who move to the area for seasonal work on farms, which generally involves tagging and bundling Christmas trees and harvesting pumpkins. Pelayo helps the families enroll their students, connects them with supplies for school and home, and serves as a Spanish translator for parent-teacher meetings — “whatever they need,” she said.
Kitty Honeycutt, executive director of the Ashe County Chamber of Commerce, doesn’t know how the county’s agriculture industry would survive without the migrant students Pelayo works with. “The need for guest workers is crucial for the agriculture industry — we have to have them,” she said.
A couple of years ago, Pelayo had the idea to drive to Boone, North Carolina, where Appalachian State University’s campus sits, to gather unwanted appliances and supplies from students moving out of their dorm rooms at the end of the year to donate to migrant families. She’s a “find a way or make a way” type of person, Honeycutt said.
Cox is searching for how to keep Pelayo on if Ashe County loses these federal funds next year. She’s talked with county officials to see if they could pay Pelayo’s salary, and begun calculating how much the district would need to charge families to keep the after-school program running. Ideally, she’d know ahead of time and not the night before the district is set to receive the money.
Districts across the country are grappling with similar questions. In Detroit, school leaders are preparing, at a minimum, to lose Title III money to teach English learners. More than 7,200 Detroit students received services funded by Title III in 2023.
In Wyoming, the small, rural Sheridan County School District 3 is trying to budget without Title II, IV and V money — funding for improving teacher quality, updating technology and resources for rural and low-income schools, among other uses, Superintendent Chase Christensen said.
Schools are trying to budget for cuts to other federal programs, too — such as Medicaid and food stamps. In Harrison School District 2, an urban district in Colorado Springs, Colorado, schools rely on Medicaid to provide students with counseling, nursing and other services.
The district projects that it could lose half the $15 million it receives in Medicaid next school year.
“It’s very, very stressful,” said Wendy Birhanzel, superintendent of Harrison School District 2. “For a while, it was every day, you were hearing something different. And you couldn’t even keep up with, ‘What’s the latest information today?’ That’s another thing we told our staff: If you can, just don’t watch the news about education right now.”
There’s another calculation for school leaders to make in conservative counties like Ashe, where 72 percent of the vote last year went for President Donald Trump: objecting to the cuts without angering voters. When North Carolina’s attorney general, a Democrat, joined the lawsuit against the administration over the frozen funds this summer, some school administrators told state officials they couldn’t publicly sign on, fearing local backlash, said Jack Hoke, executive director of the North Carolina School Superintendents’ Association.
Cox sees the effort to slash federal funds as a chance to show her community how Ashe County Schools uses this money. She believes people are misguided in thinking their schools don’t need it, not malicious.
“I know who our congresspeople are — I know they care about this area,” Cox said, even if they do not fully grasp how the money is used. “It’s an opportunity for me to educate them.”
If the Education Department is shuttered — which Trump said he plans to do in order to give more authority over education to states — she wants to be included in state-level discussions for how federal money flows to schools through North Carolina. And, importantly, she wants to know ahead of time what her schools might lose.
As Cox made her rounds to each of the schools that first week back, she glanced down at her phone and looked up with a smile. “We have hot water,” she said while walking in the hall of Blue Ridge Elementary School. It had lost hot water a few weeks earlier, but to Cox, this crisis was minor — one of many first-of-the-year hiccups she has come to expect.
Still, it’s one worry she can put out of her mind as she looks ahead to a year of uncertainties.
Meanwhile, the anxiety about this school year hasn’t reached the students, who were talking among themselves in the high school’s media center, creating collages in the elementary school’s art class and trekking up to Mount Jefferson — a state park that sits directly behind the district’s two high schools — for an annual trip.
They were just excited to be back.
Marina Villeneuve contributed data analysis to this story.
Contact staff writer Ariel Gilreath on Signal at arielgilreath.46 or at [email protected].
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A university group warned that the proposal would stifle the U.S. innovation pipeline and hurt the American public.
Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick told Axios he wants the federal government to get half the dollars generated from patents that universities and their researchers develop with federal funding, the outlet reported Wednesday.
“The scientists get the patents, the universities get the patents and the funder of $50 billion, the U.S. government, you know what we get? Zero,” Lutnick says in an interview clip from the forthcoming first episode of The Axios Show.
“I think if we fund it and they invent a patent, the United States of America taxpayer should get half the benefit,” Lutnick says, adding, “if we are paying for the research, if we’re paying for the lab, if it’s our money, the American taxpayer’s money.”
“How do we not get our money back?” he says. “That’s insane.”
As Axios noted in its article about the interview, the Bayh-Dole Act generally gives universities the right to own patents developed with federal funding. The Commerce Department didn’t return requests for comment Wednesday about how the Trump administration could legally get around that law.
Kate Hudson, the Association of American Universities’ deputy vice president and counsel for government relations and public policy, said in an email that Lutnick’s idea “would completely gut universities’ ability to partner with the private sector to turn research discoveries into real-world technologies, cures, and solutions that serve the American people.”
“The proposal would obliterate the progress that university tech transfer has enjoyed in the 45 years since the passage of the seminal Bayh-Dole Act, which facilitated new university-industry partnerships and led to an explosion of technological progress and substantial economic gains,” Hudson said. “If enacted, the proposal would stifle the U.S. innovation pipeline, with the American people, not universities, being the ultimate losers.”
In 2021 AdvanceHE published our literature review which set out to demonstrate significant impact in access, retention, attainment and progression from 2016–21.
Our aim was to help institutional decision making and improve student success outcomes. This literature has helped to develop intervention strategies in Access and Participation Plans. But the HE world has changed since review and publication.
Recent sector data for England showed that 43 per cent of higher education providers sampled by the Office for Students (OfS) were forecasting a deficit for 2024–25 and concluded that:
Many institutions have ongoing cost reduction programmes to help underpin their financial sustainability. Some are reducing the number of courses they offer, while others are selling assets that are no longer needed.
All the while, institutions are, quite rightly, under pressure to maintain and enhance student success.
The findings of our 2021 review represent a time, not so long ago, when interventions could be designed and tested without the theorising and evaluation now prescribed by OfS. We presented a suite of options to encourage innovation and experimentation. Decision making now feels somewhat different. Many institutions will be asking “what works now, as we find ourselves in a period of financial challenge and uncertainty?”
Mattering still matters
The overarching theme of “mattering” (France and Finney 2009, among others) was apparent in the interventions we analysed in the 2021 review. At its simplest, this is interventions or approaches which demonstrate to students that their university cares about them; that they matter. This can be manifest in the interactions they have with staff, with systems and processes, with each other; with the approaches to teaching that are adopted; with the messages (implicit and explicit) that the institution communicates.
Arguably, a core aspect of mattering is “free” in terms of hard cash – us showing students that we care about them, their experience, and their progress, for staff to have a friendly approach, a regular check in, and meaningful and genuine dialogue with students. Such interactions may well carry an emotional cost however, and how staff are feeling – whether they feel that they matter to the institution – could impact on morale and potentially make this more difficult. We should also be mindful of the gendered labour that can be evident when teaching academics are encouraged to pick up more “pastoral” care of students; in research-intensive institutions, this may be more apparent when a greater proportion of female staff are employed on teaching focused contracts.
In our original review we found that there were clear relationships between each student outcome area – access, retention, attainment and progression – and some interventions had impact on more than one outcome. Here are five of our examples, within the overarching theme of mattering, which remind the sector of this impact evidence whilst illustrating developments in thinking and implementation.
Five impactful practices
Interventions which provide financial aid or assistance to students pre and post entry were evidenced as impactful in the 2016-2021 literature. We remember the necessity of providing financial aid for students during Covid, with the government even providing additional funding for students in need. In the current financial climate, the provision of extra funding may feel like a dream for many institutions. Cost reduction pressures may mean that reducing sizable student support budgets are an easy short-term win to balance the books.
In fact late last year, Jim Dickinson predicted just this as the first wave APPs referenced a likely decline in financial support. As evaluative data has shown, hardship funding is used by students to fund the cost of living. When money is tight, an alternative approach is to apply targeted aid where there is evidence of known disadvantage. Historically the sector has not been great at targeting, but it has become a necessity. Preventing student withdrawal has never been more important.
We also noted that early interventions delivered pre-entry and during transition and induction were particularly effective. The sector has positioned early and foundational experiences of students as crucial for many years. When discussions about cost effectiveness look to models of student support, targeting investment in the early years of study, rather than universally applied, could have the highest impact. Continuation metrics (year one to year two retention) again drive this thinking, with discrete interventions being the simplest to evaluate but perhaps the most costly to resource. Billy Wong’s new evidence exploring an online transition module and associated continuation impact is a pertinent example of upfront design costs (creation), low delivery costs (online), and good impact (continuation).
Another potentially low cost intervention is the design of early “low stakes” assessment opportunities that give students the chance to have early successes and early helpful feedback which, if well designed, can support students feeling that they matter. These types of assessments can support student resilience and increase the likelihood of them continuing their studies, as well as providing the institution with timely learner analytics regarding who may be in need of extra support (a key flag for potential at-risk students being non-completion of assessments). This itself is a cost saving measure as it enables the prioritisation of intervention and resource where the need is likely to be greatest.
Pedagogically driven interventions were shown in our review to have an impact across student outcome areas. This included the purposeful design of the student’s curriculum to impact on student learning, attainment, and future progression. Many institutions are embarking on large scale curriculum change with an efficiency (and student experience/outcomes) lens. Thinking long term enough to avoid future change, yet attending to short term needs is a constant battle, as is retaining conversations of values and pedagogy.
How we teach is perhaps one of the most powerful and “cost-free” mechanisms available, given many students may prioritise what time they can spend on campus towards attending taught sessions. An extremely common concern expressed by new (and not so new) lecturers and GTAs when encouraged to interact with students in their teaching is “But what if I get asked a question that I don’t know the answer to?” Without development and support, this fear (along with an understandable assumption that their role is to “transmit” knowledge) often results in a retreat to didactic, content heavy approaches, a safe space for the expert in the room.
But participative sessions that embed inclusive teaching, relational and compassionate pedagogies, that create a sense of community in the classroom where contributions are valued and encouraged, where students get to know each other and us – all such approaches can show students that they matter and support their experience and their success.
We also found that interventions which provided personal support and guidance for students impacted positively on student outcomes. One to one support can be impactful but costly. Adaptations in delivery or approach, for example, small group rather than individual sessions and models of peer support are worth exploring in a resource sensitive environment. Embedding personal and academic support within course delivery and operating an effective referral system for students when needed, is another way to get the most out of existing resources.
Finally, the effective use of learner analytics was a common theme in our review of impact. Certainly, the proactive use of data to support the identification of student need/risk makes good moral and financial sense. However, large scale investment might be necessary to realise longer term financial gains. This might be an extension of existing infrastructure or as Peck, McCarthy and Shaw recently suggested, HE institutions might turn to AI to play a major role in recognising students who are vulnerable or in distress.
Confronting the hidden costs
These financial dilemmas may feel uncomfortable; someone ultimately gains less (loses out?) in a targeted approach to enhancing student success. Equality of opportunity and outcome gaps alongside financial transparency should be at the forefront of difficult decisions (use equality legislation on positive action to underpin targeting decisions as needed). Evaluation, and learning from the findings, become even more important in the context of scarce resources. While quick decisions to realise financial savings may seem attractive, a critical eye on the what works evidence base is essential to have long term impact.
Beyond our AHE review, TASO has a useful evidence toolkit which notes cost alongside assumed impact and the strength of the evidence. As an example, the provision of information, advice and guidance and work experience are cited as low cost (one star), with high-ish impact (two stars). This evidence base only references specific evidence types (namely causal/type three evidence). The series of evidence-based frameworks (such as Student Success, Employability, Inclusive Practice) from AdvanceHE are alternative reference points.
The caveat to all of the above is that new approaches carry a staff development cost. In fact, all of the “low cost” interventions and approaches cited need investment in the development and support of academic staff. We are often supported by brilliant teams of learning designers and educational developers, but they cannot do all this heavy lifting on their own given the scale of the task ahead. As significant challenges like AI ask us to fundamentally rethink our purpose as educators in higher education, perhaps staff development is what we should be investing in now more than ever?
Limestone University, which shuttered abruptly in May after years of financial woes and a failed fundraising effort, owes nearly $400,000 to students affected by the closure, The State reported.
Tuition refunds reportedly promised by university officials have not yet been disbursed.
Altogether, Limestone owes $381,405 to 281 students, according to a report submitted to the South Carolina Commission on Higher Education by a consulting firm managing the university’s assets. A representative from that firm, Aurora Management Partners, declined to tell the newspaper when students may be reimbursed, noting that their agreement was confidential.
While students are due an average of more than $1,350 each, some are owed more.
Michael Thielen, a former graduate student affected by the closure, told the newspaper that Limestone owes him more than $4,000, but he hasn’t heard from officials in almost two months. He bemoaned the university’s lack of accountability and transparency.
“Everyone has washed their hands of this,” Thielen said.
The private Christian university was one of the more jarring closures of the year, given how quickly it folded amid clear warning signs of financial distress, as noted in its latest audit.
In April, Limestone officials punted on the closure decision, indicating they were in talks for a $6 million lifeline that would keep the university open. But that funding source never materialized, prompting a reversal from leadership and the abrupt closure of the 180-year-old institution.
Just over half of student loan borrowers consider themselves financially insecure, while about three-quarters said they had experienced an adverse financial event, like skipping a bill, in the past year, according to a survey from the Pew Charitable Trusts exploring the attitudes of student loan borrowers after federal student loan repayments restarted in October 2023 following a three-year pause. The survey was conducted in the summer of 2024.
Existing financial challenges are closely associated with struggles to repay student loans, the survey found. About 23 percent of respondents indicated they had missed some or all of their student loan payments since October 2023, but that number was higher among those who are financially insecure (34 percent) and those who had experienced a negative financial event (30 percent).
But paying off student loans isn’t just challenging for those facing other financial difficulties. Among all borrowers, 57 percent said they found it difficult to afford their loans, including 41 percent of those who said they do not consider themselves financially insecure. Over a third of borrowers also said they found repaying their student loans more stressful than paying their other bills.
The Education Department estimates that nearly 25 percent of borrowers have either defaulted on their loans or will default in the next several months. In May, the agency restarted collections on unpaid loans.
