Tag: News

  • The battle for authority and children’s autonomy

    The battle for authority and children’s autonomy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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  • Survey gauges whom college students trust most

    Survey gauges whom college students trust most

    Undergraduates’ level of trust in their institution has been positively linked to individual student outcomes, as well as the broader institutional culture and reputation. So trust matters. And a new analysis of data from Inside Higher Ed’s annual Student Voice survey with Generation Lab shows which groups of campus employees students trust the most—and least—to promote an enriching experience.

    Asked to rate their level of trust in the people in various roles across campus to ensure that they and other students have a positive college experience, nearly all students have some (43 percent) or a lot (44 percent) of trust in professors. This is consistent across institution size, classification (both two-year and four-year) and sector, though students at private nonprofit institutions are somewhat more likely than their peers at public institutions to say they have the highest level of trust in their professors (51 percent versus 42 percent, respectively).

    Methodology

    Nearly three in 10 respondents (28 percent) to Inside Higher Ed’s annual Student Voice survey, fielded in May 2024 in partnership with Generation Lab, attend two-year institutions, and closer to four in 10 (37 percent) are post-traditional students, meaning they attend two-year institutions and/or are 25 or older. The 5,025-student sample is nationally representative. The survey’s margin of error is 1.4 percent.

    Other highlights from the full survey and from follow-up student polls on key issues can be found here, while the full main survey data set, with interactive visualizations, is available here. In addition to questions about academic life, the main annual survey asked questions on health and wellness, the college experience, and preparation for life after college.

    Trust in professors is also relatively consistent across a swath of student characteristics, including gender, household income level and even political affiliation, with 47 percent and 44 percent of Democratic- and Republican-identifying students, respectively, having a lot of trust in them. By race, however, Black students (32 percent) are less likely to say they have a lot of trust in professors than are white (47 percent), Asian American and Pacific Islander (42 percent), and Hispanic students (41 percent).

    Academic advisers come next in the list of which groups students trust a lot (36 percent), followed by campus safety and security officers (32 percent). The trust in security is perhaps surprising, giving heightened concerns about overpolicing in the U.S., but some general public opinion polling—including this 2024 study by Gallup—indicates that confidence in policing is up year over year. That’s as confidence in other institutions (including higher education) remains at a low. In a 2022 Student Voice survey, undergraduates were about equally likely to have a lot of trust in campus safety officers.

    Toward the bottom of the list of campus groups students trust a lot is financial aid staff (23 percent). This finding may be influenced by the tenor of national conversations about college costs and value, as well as last year’s chaotic Free Application for Federal Student Aid overhaul. Revised national data suggests that the FAFSA mess did not have the negative impact on enrollment that was feared. But another Inside Higher Ed/Generation Lab flash survey in 2024 found that a third of students disapproved of the way their institution communicated with them about the changes, with lower-income students especially likely to say this communication had been poor.

    Victoria Nguyen, a teaching fellow at Harvard’s Graduate School of Education and a program coordinator in the Office for Community Conduct at the university, recalls worrying about the financial aid process during her undergraduate years. “The issue is transparency and understanding … Did my scholarship go through? Are they going to reimburse me [for tuition paid]? … It’s not a lack of trust, but since there’s no transparency it feels as though financial aid staff does not have that care,” says Nguyen, who earned her bachelor of science degree in 2023.

    At the very bottom of the trust hierarchy are presidents and other executive-level college and university leaders, with just 18 percent of students expressing a lot of trust in this group. It’s been a tough few semesters for college leaders, with presidents, in particular, in the hot seat—including before Congress—over their responses to campus dynamics surrounding the war in Gaza. And those current tensions aside, the presidency appears to be getting harder and harder to hold on to, with average tenures shrinking.

    In any case, the newly released Student Voice data shows that students, too, may be losing faith in presidents and other senior leaders. These findings are relatively consistent across institution and student type.

    Closing the Presidential Trust Gap

    One recent study that sought to identify essential competencies for any modern college president ranked trust-building No. 1 in a list of seven that emerged from focus groups and surveys of presidents themselves: Some 96 percent emphasized that presidents need to behave “in a way that is trustworthy, consistent and accountable.”

    Jorge Burmicky, assistant professor of higher education leaders and policy studies at Howard University and co-author of that study, says that while this particular survey item on trust-building was drafted without a specific population in mind, presidents in focus groups emphasized the importance of building trust with students, as well as with faculty members. Participants’ ideas for building trust included bringing campus stakeholders into decision-making processes, minimizing surprises, supporting shared governance and showing consistency by aligning actions with personal and institutional values. Respondents also identified listening to and understanding the needs of various campus groups as a related, critical skill.

    Presidents “shared that it was important for them to maintain visibility on campus and that they often took time to visit with students as a way of staying connected to their campus,” Burmicky notes. He also encourages further study on what students—not just presidents—think about core competencies for presidents and means of building trust, including and perhaps especially around communication. Some presidents in his study shared feelings of frustration that students were not reading weekly or monthly presidential newsletters, and he advises that presidents develop trust in a way that works for their campus. Town hall–style gatherings might work in smaller settings, but not others, for instance.

    “There is clearly a perception gap between students and presidents on important issues such as trust-building and feeling heard,” he says. “Presidents ought to reach students where they’re at by using outlets that are relevant to their day-to-day lives,” such as social media or athletic events.

    Nguyen of Harvard would like to see college presidents showing care by attending more events where they can listen to students’ concerns, such as student organization meetings and workshops, or meetings of task forces that include students. Leaders’ “presence in the room matters so much more than they think,” she says.

    Tone and authenticity are additional considerations: Generic messages “do not resonate with most people as they lack empathy, as expressed by our participants,” says Burmicky.

    Nguyen adds that campus leaders should assess their communication to ensure they’re not “using tactics from 20 years ago that don’t match our student population anymore.”

    Faculty ‘Trust Moves’

    Another study published last month shed new light on the concept of student-faculty trust, seeking to better understand how students perceive its value. The study, involving hundreds of engineering students in Sweden, identified showing care and concern as the most important trust-building approach for professors. Teaching skills also mattered.

    Co-author Rachel Forsyth, of Lund University, explains that students “seem to want to have confidence that the teacher knows what they are talking about, is able to communicate their ideas and will attempt to build an effective relationship with them.” Student participants indicated that they could learn without trust, “but that the process felt more effective if it were present and that they had more options in terms of supporting that learning and extending their engagement with the materials.”

    The question of faculty trust is only gaining urgency with the rise of artificial intelligence–powered teaching tools, she adds.

    Peter Felten, executive director of the Center for Engaged Learning, professor of history and assistant provost for teaching and learning at Elon University, notes that prior research in this area has defined trust as both “students’ willingness to take risks based on their judgment that the teacher is committed to student success” (original study here) and as “the perception that the instructor understands the challenges facing students as they progress through the course, accepts students for who they are and cares about the educational welfare of students.”

    Felten says that his own research—completed with Forsyth and involving experienced faculty members teaching large science, engineering, technology and math courses—found there are four categories of “trust moves” faculty can make in their teaching:

    1. Cognition, or showing knowledge, skill and competence
    2. Affect, or showing care and concern for students
    3. Identity, or showing sensitivity to how identities influence learning and teaching
    4. Values, showing that they are acting on professional or cultural principles

    These trust moves, Felton says, include “not only what instructors do and say, but how they design their courses, how they assess students and more.”

    What do you do to build trust in your classroom or on your campus? Let us know by sharing your ideas here.

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  • We need new ways to protect academic freedom (opinion)

    We need new ways to protect academic freedom (opinion)

    Katherine Franke, formerly a law professor at Columbia University, is just the latest of many academics who have found themselves in hot water because of something they said outside the classroom. Others have been fired or resigned under pressure for what they posted online or said in other off-campus venues.

    In each of those cases, the “offending party” invoked academic freedom or freedom of speech as a defense to pressures brought on them, or procedures initiated against them, by university administrators. The traditional discourse of academic freedom or free speech on campus has focused on threats from inside the academy of the kind that led Franke and others to leave their positions.

    Today, threats to academic freedom and free speech are being mounted from the outside by governments or advocacy groups intent on policing colleges and universities and exposing what they see as a suffocating orthodoxy. As Darrell M. West wrote in 2022, “In recent years, we have seen a number of cases where political leaders upset about criticism have challenged professors and sought to intimidate them into silence.”

    We have seen this act before, and the record of universities is not pretty.

    During the 1940s and 1950s, an anticommunist crusade swept the nation, and universities were prime targets. In that period, “faculty and staff at institutions of higher learning across the country experienced increased scrutiny from college administrators and trustees, as well as Congress and the FBI, for their speech, their academic work, and their political activities.”

    And many universities put up no resistance.

    Today, some believe, as Nina Jankowicz puts it, that we are entering “an era of real censorship the likes of which the United States has never seen. How will universities respond?”

    If academic freedom and freedom of expression are to be meaningful, colleges and universities must not only resist the temptation to punish or purge people whose speech they and others may find offensive; they must provide new protections against external threats, especially when it comes to extramural speech by members of their faculties.

    They must become active protectors and allies of faculty who are targeted.

    As has long been recognized, academic freedom and free speech are not identical. In 2007, Rachel Levinson, then the AAUP senior counsel, wrote, “It can … be difficult to explain the distinction between ‘academic freedom’ and ‘free speech rights under the First Amendment’—two related but analytically distinct legal concepts.”

    Levinson explained, “Academic freedom … addresses rights within the educational contexts of teaching, learning, and research both in and outside the classroom.” Free speech requires that there be no regulation of expression on “all sorts of topics and in all sorts of settings.”

    Ten years after Levinson, Stanley Fish made a splash when he argued, “Freedom of speech is not an academic value.” As Fish explained, “Accuracy of speech is an academic value … [because of] the goal of academic inquiry: getting a matter of fact right.” Free speech, in contrast, means “something like a Hyde Park corner or a town-hall meeting where people take turns offering their opinions on pressing social matters.”

    But as Keith Whittington observes, the boundaries that Levinson and Fish think can be drawn between academic freedom and free speech are not always recognized, even by organizations like the AAUP. “In its foundational 1915 Declaration of Principles on Academic Freedom and Academic Tenure,” Whittington writes, “the AAUP asserted that academic freedom consists of three elements: freedom of research, freedom of teaching, and ‘freedom of extramural utterance and action.’”

    In 1940, Whittington explains, “the organization reemphasized its position that ‘when they speak or write as citizens,’ professors ‘should be free from institutional censorship or discipline.’”

    Like the AAUP, Whittington opposes “institutional censorship” for extramural speech. That is crucially important.

    But in the era in which academics now live and work, is it enough?

    We know that academics report a decrease in their sense of academic freedom. A fall 2024 survey by Inside Higher Ed found that 49 percent of professors experienced a decline over the prior year in their sense of academic freedom as it pertains to extramural speech.

    To foster academic freedom and free speech on campus or in the world beyond the campus, colleges and universities need to move from merely tolerating the expression of unpopular ideas to a more affirmative stance in which they take responsibility for fostering it. It is not enough to tell faculty that the university will respect academic freedom and free expression if they are afraid to exercise those very rights.

    Faculty may be fearful that saying the “wrong” thing will result in being ostracized or shunned. John Stuart Mill, one of the great advocates for free expression, warned about what he called “the tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling.” That tyranny could chill the expression of unpopular ideas.

    In 1952, during the McCarthy era, Supreme Court justice Felix Frankfurter also worried about efforts to intimidate academics that had “an unmistakable tendency to chill that free play of the spirit which all teachers ought especially to cultivate and practice.”

    Beyond the campus, faculty may rightly fear that if they say things that offend powerful people or government officials, they will be quickly caught up in an online frenzy or will be targeted. If they think their academic institutions will not have their back, they may choose the safety of silence over the risk of saying what they think.

    Whittington gets it right when he argues that “Colleges and universities should encourage faculty to bring their expertise to bear on matters of public concern and express their informed judgments to public audiences when doing so might be relevant to ongoing public debates.” The public interest is served when we “design institutions and practices that facilitate the diffusion of that knowledge.”

    Those institutions and practices need to be adapted to the political environment in which we live. That is why it is so important that colleges and universities examine their policies and practices and develop new ways of supporting their faculty if extramural speech gets them in trouble. This may mean providing financial resources as well as making public statements in defense of those faculty members.

    Colleges and universities should also consider making their legal counsel available to offer advice and representation and using whatever political influence they wield on behalf of a faculty member who is under attack.

    Without those things, academics may be “free from” the kind of university action that led Franke to leave Columbia but still not be “free to” use their academic freedom and right of free expression for the benefit of their students, their professions and the society at large.

    Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell Professor of Jurisprudence and Political Science at Amherst College.

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  • Trump’s federal funding freeze concerns colleges

    Trump’s federal funding freeze concerns colleges

    President Trump’s plan to temporarily freeze federal grants and loans set off a wave of confusion and concerns across higher ed Tuesday. But just minutes before it was set to take effect, a federal judge blocked the order.

    It is now on hold until next Monday, at least.

    College leaders worried they would lose access to a wide variety of federal funds, though the specific programs affected by the pause remained in flux throughout the day. Education Department officials said Pell Grants, student loans and Federal Work-Study would not be subject to the pause. But critical STEM research and student success initiatives were among the thousands of programs whose funding would have been paused until at least Feb. 10, according to the original White House directive released late Monday night.

    University lobbyists and administrators predicted earlier Tuesday that the president’s unprecedented action would be blocked in the courts, but they warned of significant consequences as they worked to gather more information about the order. Comparable to a government shutdown, they said, the impact of a freeze, if it ever comes to pass, would largely depend on how long it lasts. 

    “Obviously it’s of great concern,” said Patricia McGuire, president of Trinity Washington University in Washington, D.C., on Tuesday morning. “Most of us are finding the memo to be so broad and so incomprehensible that we don’t even quite know what the long-term impact is … But it makes no sense. Rather than helping ‘make America great again,’ it absolutely debilitates America.”

    Conservative policy experts say Trump’s actions are necessary to combat years of misguided spending and argue that institutions shouldn’t run budgets so razor-thin that a short-term loss of federal funds empties their coffers. But McGuire and other higher ed representatives say the proposed freeze along with other executive actions raises questions about whether they can count on stable federal funding in the long run.

    Universities have already seen some disruptions to research funding since Trump took office eight days ago, as the National Institutes of Health and the National Science Foundation canceled meetings to review grant applications last week. Before the federal court released its ruling, the proposed extension of that freeze had only further fueled academics’ initial concerns.

    The White House Office of Management and Budget had directed all federal agencies to pause any grants and loans they supervised in order to ensure that federal spending aligns with the president’s priorities, such as cracking down on diversity, equity and inclusion programs and illegal immigration. OMB specifically said it is aiming to cease any funding to activities that “may be implicated by the executive orders, including but not limited to, financial assistance for foreign aid, nongovernmental organizations, DEI, woke gender ideology, and the green new deal,” according to the memo.

    The two-page directive specifically exempted Social Security, Medicare and other programs that provide direct financial assistance to individuals. But colleges and universities would still lose access to grants that are targeted at minority-serving institutions, college preparation programs, childcare for student parents, food banks, student retention and graduation initiatives, campus hospital systems, and more. Over all, more than 2,600 grant programs are up for consideration across dozens of agencies, Bloomberg reported.

    A follow-up memo was published Tuesday in an attempt to help clarify the president’s orders, but higher ed stakeholders said much uncertainty remains.

    White House press secretary Karoline Leavitt said early Tuesday afternoon that the freeze would not be “a blanket pause on federal assistance and grant programs,” and she repeatedly said that direct federal assistance to individuals wouldn’t be affected. But she didn’t have a clear answer about what would happen to federal money that goes to states, organizations or colleges that support individuals. She also pushed back on questions about the legality of the pause and said the move was aimed at ensuring that federal spending aligns with the president’s priorities.

    “No more funding for illegal DEI programs,” she said. “No more funding for transgenderism and wokeness.”

    Leavitt was asked about funding for minority-serving institutions and said she hadn’t “seen the entire list” of programs either affected or exempted from the pause.

    Sarah Spreitzer, vice president and chief of staff for government relations at the American Council on Education, said concerns remain despite the legal injunction.

    In the initial memo, OMB instructed agencies to conduct a comprehensive review by Feb. 7 of federal programs to ensure they comply with Trump’s executive orders. White House officials offered more guidance Tuesday about what that would entail. Agencies will have to answer a series of questions for each program listed on the 52-page document by Feb. 7. Those questions include whether the programs fund DEI or support “illegal aliens,” the promotion of “gender ideology” or “activities overseas.”

    It’s just going to cause a lot of chaos when it comes to planning. It is definitely a developing story.”

    —Sarah Spreitzer, American Council on Education

    It’s unclear whether the judge’s order affects the broader review.

    To Spreitzer and others, that broader review could threaten more federal programs, as those considered unaligned with the president’s agenda could be altered or cut back entirely.

    “If there’s an injunction within a week and everything can start up again, I think that the impact is minimal,” Spreitzer said. But “there’s so much in that [memo] about the examination of all grants going forward … that go beyond just the pause that I think I’d have to see the further implementation instructions to understand the complete impact on the scientific and education enterprise.”

    ‘Unnecessary and Damaging’

    Higher ed officials and student advocacy groups warned throughout the day that the pause, in addition to a recent flurry of executive orders, would cause unnecessary disruption to the primary goals and functions of American colleges and universities and could jeopardize crucial scientific research. The National Association of College and University Business Officers said in a statement that the pause could cause “unnecessary disruption to the lives of tens of thousands of students and families at colleges and universities across the country.”

    “The overall impact to programs … could be both significant and chaotic,” NACUBO president Kara D. Freeman said. “College and university chief business officers will be front and center with their presidents, boards, and executive leadership in developing plans to mitigate immediate exposure and impacts. We urge the Trump administration to reconsider and rescind this misguided policy.”

    Mark Becker, president of the Association of Public and Land-grant Universities, called the memo’s orders “unnecessary and damaging.”

    “While we understand the Trump administration wants to review programs to ensure consistency with its priorities, it is imperative that the reviews not interfere with American innovation and competitiveness,” Becker said. “It will have far-reaching impacts in every corner of the country and hamper American innovation at a moment when it’s being fiercely challenged on a global stage.”

    Randi Weingarten, president of the American Federation of Teachers, said in a statement that she hopes Trump and Republicans on Capitol Hill will see how the pause could hurt American citizens and address the gap by resuming grant distribution.

    “Federal programs need to be more efficient, but no one voted for a president to halt their services—services that were appropriated, authorized and extended by Congress,” she said in a statement. “Americans need a federal government that works for them, not against them.”

    Democratic lawmakers have also raised the red flag, responding with outrage and “extreme alarm,” warning that the pause would undermine Congress’s authority and have “devastating consequences across the country.”

    Reactions from professors and student advocacy groups were swift late Monday and early Tuesday.

    “I don’t see how any Democrat can get away with voting to confirm Linda McMahon after this memo. The entire hearing should be focused on how the U.S. government is tearing apart everyday life for regular people,” Mike Pierce, executive director of the Student Borrower Protection Center, wrote on X.

    Jody Freedman, a professor at Harvard Law School, took to BlueSky. “What is going on here?” she wrote. “I think what’s going on here is that Russell Vought (perhaps others in the administration too, but certainly him) … are testing the Republicans in Congress on this issue to see if they spring to life.”

    “It’s like Hey, the door’s open, no one’s home, let’s rob the place. And by rob I mean, let’s take all the power Congress thinks it has over the appropriations,” she added.

    ‘Extremely Widespread’ Abuse

    Congressional Republicans have said little in response to the pause, and conservative policy experts say the freeze is a necessary step to address years of “illegal spending” by Democrats to advance their political motives.

    Inside Higher Ed reached out to both Senator Dr. Bill Cassidy and Representative Tim Walberg, chairs of the congressional committees that handle education policy, but neither responded with comment.

    Michael Brickman, an adjunct fellow at the American Enterprise Institute, a right-leaning think tank, said that the Trump administration’s actions—though “aggressive”—are justified decisions aimed to restore the rule of law and ensure that government money “isn’t being set on fire at every turn.”

    “What you’re seeing overall across the administration is an attempt to get a handle on the waste and the abuse of taxpayer dollars,” Brickman said.

    He went on to say that though it would be ideal to only freeze certain programs and limit the consequences of stalled grants, breadth was a necessity in this scenario.

    “We saw during the Biden administration, brazen attempts again and again to ignore the law” when utilizing federal funds, Brickman said. “Why let good money continue to go out the door when we know for the last four years that so much of it has been wasted … I wish it were narrow and targeted, but unfortunately, the abuse is extremely widespread.”

    And if colleges don’t have a contingency plan in place for any kind of budgetary disruption, “that’s malpractice on their part,” he added.

    ‘Plan for the Worst’

    McGuire, from Trinity, said the pause would likely affect grants for predominantly Black institutions, which her university uses to provide student advising, new lab materials and certification programs in high-demand areas of the workforce.

    Trinity has already received its $250,000 in such grants for the current academic year, so no programs will have to shut down immediately if the freeze is reinstated, she said. But she worries about the reliability of federal funds moving forward. She explained that uncertainty about grants could mean cuts and amendments to the budget for fiscal year 2026. 

    “We hope for the best but plan for the worst,” she said. “We’re going into budget season right now, so we will probably have to plan alternative support for the programs funded through the PBI [grants].”

    Spreitzer, from ACE, echoed the future impact but also noted that certain colleges could pay the price more immediately. Many large research universities require billions of dollars in federal grants to keep their labs and hospitals running every day, she said, and there’s variation in when grant funds are dispersed, so many may have yet to receive the dollars needed to keep the lights on.

    “It’s going to depend on whether institutions have existing grants and whether they’re waiting for disbursements. It’s just going to cause a lot of chaos when it comes to planning,” she said. “It is definitely a developing story.” 

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  • Three questions for JHU’s Ira Gooding

    Three questions for JHU’s Ira Gooding

    Ira Gooding is well-known and highly respected within our digital and online learning community. At Johns Hopkins University, Ira serves in the provost’s office as a special adviser for digital initiatives, and he is the assistant director for open education at the Bloomberg School of Public Health.

    Q:  Tell us about your roles at the provost’s office and the Bloomberg School. What does your work at Hopkins entail and how do your leadership positions interact?

    A: My work in the provost’s office is focused on three goals: fostering teaching innovation through digital technology, facilitating collaboration and connection across divisional lines, and managing our engagement with Coursera.

    A major project that incorporates all three goals is our Digital Education and Learning Technology Acceleration (DELTA) initiative. Each year, we use a portion of our Coursera royalty revenue to award internal grants of up to $75,000 to develop, implement and evaluate an innovative application of technology intended to enhance teaching and learning. To date, we’ve awarded more than $2.6 million to 41 different project teams focused on a wide array of innovative approaches, including VR/AR, generative AI, learning at scale, faculty development programming and clinical simulation, among others.

    We also hold an annual Provost’s DELTA Teaching Forum that brings together faculty and teaching and learning staff from across Johns Hopkins to provoke conversation, spark new thinking and advance the ongoing pursuit of teaching excellence. The next forum will be held on May 1.

    In the Bloomberg School of Public Health, I lead a small team within the Center for Teaching and Learning. We focus our attention on developing open learning experiences and open educational resources for independent learners and public health educators beyond the boundaries of our master’s and doctoral programs. We’ve supported the development of more than 80 MOOC courses, specializations and teach-outs, and we’re in the process of developing a new OER repository for JHU.

    The repository project is a good example of the interaction between my two roles. The Bloomberg School’s Center for Teaching and Learning is developing the platform, but it will serve as a repository for OER from across the entire university, and publishing authority will be distributed in order to reduce bottlenecks.

    Q: Looking forward to 2025, what challenges, trends and opportunities related to online and digital learning are at the top of your mind?

    A: I hope it’s OK that my answers go beyond 2025.

    I’m curious to see how higher education will be affected in the years ahead by the arrival of students whose early primary school years were disrupted by the COVID-19 pandemic and the switch to emergency remote teaching. The oldest members of that cohort are hitting high school this year, and it won’t be long before they arrive (or not) on our campuses. What expectations will they have for digital learning? Will they value in-person experiences differently from today’s students? What learning habits will they bring with them? So, I see an opportunity to start designing that cohort’s learning experiences now. How might we prepare ourselves to offer them a higher education experience that meets their needs and helps them thrive?

    Also, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about David Wiley’s recent argument about generative AI’s impact on open educational resources. In September, he gave a talk titled “Why Open Education Will Become Generative AI” for the University of Regina. In it, he argues pretty persuasively that generative AI has the potential to become a more effective tool than OER for increasing educational access due to its profound impact on the process of authoring, revising and remixing instructional materials.

    That’s a provocative position, and I don’t know whether things will play out as he predicts. Regardless, I’m curious to see the interplay of generative AI and OER in the years ahead.

    Q: What advice would you give an early or midcareer colleague interested in working toward a digital/online learning leadership role?

    A: I’d encourage them to look for opportunities to reduce institutional friction and to develop a reputation for clearing paths instead of erecting obstacles. A certain amount of friction is necessary for managing risk and encouraging high-quality work, but a lot of friction in higher ed comes from simple inertia.

    People who aspire to lead can make a lot of progress by understanding the constraints that hinder innovation and then actively working to mitigate them on behalf of the innovators within their institutions.

    Of course, people run the risk of becoming gatekeepers as they advance into leadership positions, so it’s important to question one’s own assumptions and the value of yesterday’s solutions and to look for new solutions instead of continuing to rely on the old ones.

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  • Skipping remedial courses impacts students’ completion

    Skipping remedial courses impacts students’ completion

    Developmental education has come under scrutiny for delaying students’ academic attainment and overall degree progression. While the purpose of remedial courses is to prepare learners to succeed in more difficult courses, it can produce the opposite effect, discouraging learners from pursuing more advanced courses or pushing them to drop out.

    A December report from the Center for the Analysis of Postsecondary Readiness (CAPR)—a partnership of MDRC and the Community College Research Center at Columbia University’s Teachers College—identified the benefits of placing students into college-level math and English classes and how it can impact their credit attainment and completion.

    “This research finds evidence that colleges should consider increasing the total number of students referred directly to college-level courses, whether by lowering their requirements for direct placement into college-level courses or by implementing other policies with the same effect,” according to the report.

    Methodology: Around three-quarters of colleges use multiple measures assessment (MMA) systems to place learners in remedial education, relying on standardized tests and high school GPA, among other factors, according to the CAPR report.

    This study evaluates data from 12 community colleges across Minnesota, New York and Wisconsin and 29,999 students to see how effective MMA systems are compared to traditional test-only placement methods on dictating students’ long-term success.

    Incoming students who took a placement test were randomly assigned to one of two groups: test-only referral or MMA placement. Researchers collected data on how students would have been placed under both systems to analyze different outcomes and gauge long-term outcomes.

    The findings: For most students, there was no material difference in their placement; 81 percent of the math sample and 68 percent of the English sample referred students to the same level of coursework, which researchers classified as “always college level” or “always developmental.”

    Around 44 percent of students from the New York sample were “bumped up” into a college-level English course, and 16 percent were bumped up into a college-level math class due to being assigned to the MMA group, whereas the test-only system would have sorted them into developmental education. Seven percent of learners were “bumped down” into developmental ed for English.

    In Wisconsin, 15 percent of students in the MMA group were bumped up in English, and 14 percent were bumped up in math placement.

    Students who were assigned to the MMA group and were placed into a higher-level course were more likely to have completed a college-level math or English course, compared to their peers in the test-only placement group with similar GPAs and scores.

    This bump-up group, across samples, was eight percentage points more likely to pass a college-level course and earned 2.0 credits more on average. These learners were also more likely to earn a degree or transfer to a four-year institution within nine semesters by 1.5 percentage points.

    Inversely, students who were recommended by MMA placement to take developmental ed, but not according to the test-only system, were less likely to succeed.

    So what? The evidence shows that referring more students into college-level courses is a better predictor of success than the placement system.

    Implementing an MMA is a small cost to the institution, around $60 per student, but it can result in students saving money because they take fewer developmental courses over all, and maybe earn more credits entirely.

    “Overall, this report concludes that MMA, when it allows more students to be directly placed in college-level coursework, is a cost-effective way to increase student educational achievement,” researchers wrote.

    If your student success program has a unique feature or twist, we’d like to know about it. Click here to submit.

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  • Thoughts on 20 years of college teaching (opinion)

    Thoughts on 20 years of college teaching (opinion)

    I have now been teaching at Duke University for 20 years. I have been through all kinds of teaching fads—active learning, team-based learning, alternative grading, service learning, etc. You might assume that I have become a better teacher over these many years. Yet I am noticing a curious trend in my course evaluations: Some of my students like me and my courses less and less.

    As a teaching faculty member, this matters greatly to my own career trajectory, and so I’ve wondered and worried about what to do. Why am I struggling to teach well and why are my students struggling to learn?

    Looking back on the past two decades of my teaching and reaching further back into my own college experience, I see six clear differences between now and then.

    Difference No. 1: Access to Information

    When I took my first college environmental science class, way back in 1992, I was mesmerized. This was before the days of Advanced Placement Environmental Science, so I came into the class knowing almost nothing about the topic, motivated by my naïve idea to be part of “saving the world.” To learn, I had a textbook (that I still have, all highlighted and marked up) and the lectures (for which I still have my notes). Sure, I could go to the library and find books and articles to learn more, but mostly I stuck to my textbook and my notes. I showed up to the lecture-based class to learn, to listen, to ask questions.

    Today, my students show up in my course often having taken AP Environmental Science, with access to unlimited information about the course topics, and with AI assistants that will help them organize their notes, write their essays and prepare for exams. I have had to shift from expert to curator, spending hours sifting through online articles, podcasts (SO many podcasts) and videos, instead of relying on a single textbook. I look for content that will engage students, knowing that some may also spend their class period fact-checking my lectures, which brings me to …

    Difference No. 2: Attention

    When I lecture, I look out to a sea of stickered laptops, with students shifting their attention between me, my slides and their screens. I remind them that I can tell when they are watching TikTok or texting, because the class material probably isn’t causing their amused facial expressions.

    Honestly, I am finding myself more distracted, too. While lecturing I am not only thinking about the lecture material and what’s on the next slide—I am also wondering how I can get my students’ attention. I often default to telling a personal anecdote, but even as they briefly look up to laugh, they just as quickly return their eyes to their screens.

    The obvious advice would be to have more engaging activities than lecturing but …

    Difference No. 3: More Lectures, Please

    After 2020, one comment showed up over and over on my course evaluations: lecture more. My students seemed not to see the value of small-group activities, gallery walks, interactive data exercises and discussions. They felt that they were not learning as much, and some of them assumed that meant that I didn’t know as much, which leads me to …

    Difference No. 4: Sense of Entitlement

    While I teach at a private elite university, my colleagues across a range of institutions have backed this up: Some students seem to not have much respect for faculty. The most common way this shows up is at the end of the semester, when students send me emails about why my course policies resulted in a grade they think is unfair, or after an exam, when they argue that I did not grade them fairly, which leads me to …

    Difference No. 5: Assessment Confusion

    When I was in college, I took midterms and finals. I rewrote my notes, made flash cards, created potential exam questions, asked friends for old exams and studied a lot. I took multiple-choice exams and essay exams, in-class exams and take-home exams. When I first started teaching my lecture-based class, I assigned two midterms and a final. I took the business of writing exams seriously, often using short-answer and essay exams that took a whole lot of time to grade. I wanted the experience of taking the exam to help students feel like they had learned something, and the experience of studying to actually entice them to learn.

    Then, two things happened. We faculty got all excited about alternative assessments, trying to make our classes more inclusive for more learning styles. And the students started rebelling about their exam grades, nitpicking our grading for a point here and there, angry that, as one student put it, I was “ruthless” in my grading. Students didn’t show up at my office hours eager to understand the concepts—they wanted more points.

    So, I threw out exams in favor of shorter papers, discussions and activities. In fall 2024, I had 74 students and I gave a whopping 67 of them A’s. To do well in my class now, you don’t really have to learn anything. You just need to show up. Except the problem with grading for attendance is …

    Difference No. 6: Our Students Are Struggling

    We all know that our students are struggling with more mental and emotional health issues, perhaps due to COVID-related learning loss, the state of the world and so many other things. Many of us include mental health resources in our syllabus, but we know that’s not enough. Students are much more open about their struggles with us, but we aren’t trained therapists and often don’t know the right thing to say. Who am I to determine whether or not one student’s excuse for missing a class is valid while another’s is not? How can I keep extending the deadlines for a struggling student while keeping the deadline firm for the rest? Sure, there are suggestions for this (e.g., offer everyone a “late assignment” ticket to use), but I still spend a lot of time sifting through student email requests for extensions and understanding. How can we be fair to all of our students while maintaining the rhythm of course expectations?

    Usually, one acknowledges the differences between students now and “back then” at retirement, reflecting on the long arc of a teaching career. But I am not at the end—I have a long way to go (hopefully). I am expected to be good at this in order to get reappointed to my teaching faculty position.

    Teaching requires much more agility now as we attempt to adapt to the ever-expanding information sphere, our students’ needs, and the state of the community and world beyond our classrooms. Instead of jumping to solutions (more active learning!), I think it’s reasonable to step back and acknowledge that there is no one change we need to make to be more effective educators in 2025. We also can acknowledge that some of the strategies we are using to make our classes more engaging and inclusive might backfire, and that there still is a time and place for really good, engaging lectures and really hard, useful exams.

    There are fads in teaching, and over the past 20 years, I have seen and tried plenty of them. We prize teaching innovation, highlighting new techniques as smashing successes. But sometimes we learn that our best-laid plans don’t work out, that what students really want is to hear from an expert, someone who can help them sort through the overwhelming crush of information to find a narrative that is relevant and meaningful.

    The students in our classrooms are not the same students we were, but maybe there is still a way to spark their enthusiasm for our subjects by simply asking them to be present. As debates about the value of higher education swirl around us, maybe caring about our students and their learning means asking them to put away their screens, take out a notebook and be present for our lectures, discussions and occasional gallery walk. For my part, I’m reminding myself that some students aren’t all that different than I was—curious, excited, eager to learn—and that I owe it to them to keep showing up committed to their learning and, maybe, prepared with a few more light-on-text lecture slides.

    Rebecca Vidra is a senior lecturer at the Nicholas School of the Environment at Duke University.

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  • The King’s College aims to reopen

    The King’s College aims to reopen

    When the King’s College in New York shut down in summer 2023, its leadership said the cancellation of fall classes and termination of faculty and staff did not mean permanent closure. Now its Board of Trustees is seeking to revive the evangelical institution, according to a report from Religion Unplugged.

    The news outlet obtained a document that detailed a plan “to gift the college, including its charter and intellectual property … to likeminded evangelical Christians who propose the most compelling vision to resume the operations of the college.” The document—reportedly a request for proposals—listed a deadline of Feb. 7 for potential partners.

    TKC officials did not respond to a request for comment from Inside Higher Ed.

    The King’s College shut down in July 2023 amid severe financial pressures and a failed $2.6 million fundraising effort earlier that year that officials said was necessary to meet immediate needs. However, the emergency fundraising effort only brought in $178,000 by its initial deadline.

    The college, which enrolled a few hundred students a year, had faced declining enrollment in its final years and the loss of generous donors who had long buoyed TKC. Richard DeVos—the co-founder of Amway and father-in-law of former education secretary Betsy DeVos—donated millions of dollars to the college before his death in 2018. Another major donor, Bill Hwang, also contributed several million before he was arrested in 2022 on fraud charges.

    Facing financial pressures in 2021, the college put its faith in another wealthy entrepreneur, striking a deal with Canadian investment company Primacorp Ventures, owned by Peter Chung, a for-profit education mogul who had also loaned the college $2 million in early 2023. Acting as an online program manager, Primacorp Ventures promised to enroll 10,000 students over three years, sources previously told Inside Higher Ed. The catch, according to one source, was that Primacorp would collect 95 percent of the revenue generated from online enrollment, a deal that struck experts as predatory. The online program—which cost TKC at least $470,00 to launch, according to tax documents—delivered around 150 students its first year and soon folded.

    The college had previously tried and failed to find a partner to keep it open in 2023. If it finds one this time, the board will submit a “go-forward plan” to the New York State Education Department by mid-July, according to the RFP obtained by Religion Unplugged.

    The King’s College will face a series of obstacles in its reopening effort, including accreditation. The Middle States Commission on Higher Education stripped TKC’s accreditation in May 2023, noting a failure “to demonstrate that it can sustain itself in the short or long term.”

    If the King’s College manages to reopen, it would be history repeating itself. Founded in New Jersey in 1941, TKC closed in 1994, only to be revived in 1997 and re-established in New York City.

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  • Biology syllabi lack learner-centered principles

    Biology syllabi lack learner-centered principles

    A course syllabus serves as a road map for navigating the upcoming term and content that will be covered, but researchers believe it could support students’ self-directed learning as well.

    A November study published in the Journal of Research in Science Teaching, authored by a team of faculty from Auburn University and the University of Alabama at Birmingham, shows few introductory biology syllabi engage students in effective study habits or encourage help-seeking behaviors, instead favoring content.

    The research highlights opportunities to address the hidden curriculum of higher education and support success for historically marginalized students.

    What’s the need: Some college students lack effective study habits, and these gaps are often a piece of larger equity concerns for marginalized groups, highlighting limited opportunities or resources for underprivileged communities.

    Introductory science, technology, engineering and mathematics courses, in particular, often serve as gatekeepers, limiting which students can pursue these degree programs and resulting in less diverse STEM degree attainment.

    Today’s college students also demonstrate less college readiness in their academic skills, due in part to remote instruction as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic.

    Often, colleges or universities will create co-curricular interventions such as workshops to teach these skills or introduce best practices in a first-year seminar course. While these can be effective, institutions may lack the resources or time to deliver the interventions, which researchers say underscores a need for alternative strategies that reach students.

    Researchers theorized that embedding within the syllabus explicit instruction to promote three skills—study behaviors, metacognitive evaluation or academic help-seeking—could impact student success.

    Methodology: Researchers evaluated 115 introductory biology syllabi from 94 unique institutions, including 48 percent research-intensive institutions, 29 percent minority-serving institutions, 72 percent publics and 61 percent with enrollment over 10,000 students.

    A Deeper Look at STEM Syllabi

    A Worcester Polytechnic Institute study found instructors could help create a more inclusive learning environment in STEM courses through tailoring their syllabus to feature elements like materials from diverse scholars and accessibility statements. Read more here.

    One engineering professor at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst redesigned her syllabus as a zine, or miniature magazine, to promote student engagement and build community in the classroom.

    Syllabi were categorized by having the presence of study behaviors, academic help-seeking and metacognition suggestions; the type of suggestions of those three factors; and the quality of these recommendations (effective or ineffective).

    Further syllabus analysis covered four factors to gauge how learner-centered they were, including having clear and appropriate learning goals and objectives, aligned and define assessment activities, a logically sequenced course schedule, and a positive and organized learning environment. Each syllabus was awarded between zero and 48 points, with higher scores indicating they were more learner-centered.

    The findings: Among the 115 syllabi evaluated, only 14 percent earned a score of at least 31 to be considered learner-centered. Around three in 10 syllabi were considered “content-centered,” earning a score of 16 or less. Researchers theorized faculty may lack time or interest when creating their own syllabi, instead relying on templates from the institution or previously generated documents.

    Design by Ashley Mowreader

    Only 3.5 percent of syllabi showed evidence of reducing opportunity gaps in STEM courses, which researchers defined as de-emphasizing course rules, encouraging the use of external resources for continued learning outside the classroom and emphasizing the role of students in their own learning.

    “Most of the syllabi in our sample provided learning resources but focused primarily on course policies and did not address students as engaged learners,” according to the study.

    A majority of syllabi did offer suggestions for study behaviors, metacognition or approaches for academic help-seeking (61 percent), although the greatest share of these only addressed help-seeking (45 percent). When the syllabus did share advice to seek help, many just provided a list of resources, and fewer encouraged students to utilize them.

    “Only 17.9 percent of syllabi provided a listing of academic help-seeking resources, encouragement to use those resources, and an explanation on how to use those resources,” researchers wrote, with the explanation piece critical for addressing equity gaps and the hidden curriculum of higher education.

    Of the syllabi that provided recommendations for students’ study behaviors, a significant number gave students unhelpful advice or shared practices that are not affirmed with research.

    “We found that most biology syllabi endorsed effective study strategies such as self-testing and spacing,” researchers wrote. “However, we also found that syllabi recommended strategies that have been described as ineffective for long-term learning (e.g., re-reading textbooks and re-writing notes).”

    Twenty-nine percent of syllabi recommended only effective, evidence-based study habits. A greater share (42 percent) offered both effective and ineffective techniques, and 24 percent only offered ineffective behaviors.

    Just because the syllabus was lacking details on how to study or practice metacognition doesn’t mean it was absent from the class entirely, researchers noted, as instructors may discuss these topics in class or provide additional resources with this information. This presents an opportunity for instructors to make themselves more aware of evidence-based practices to close equity gaps and bring the syllabus into better alignment with their pedagogy, according to the study.

    Do you have an academic intervention that might help others improve student success? Tell us about it.

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  • Did the Ivy League really break America? (opinion)

    Did the Ivy League really break America? (opinion)

    Are many of the ills that plague American society caused by Ivy League admission policies?

    That is the premise of David Brooks’s cover story for the December issue of The Atlantic, “How the Ivy League Broke America.” Brooks blames the Ivies and “meritocracy” for a host of societal problems, including:

    • Overbearing parenting
    • Less time for recess (as well as art and shop) in schools
    • An economy that doesn’t provide opportunities for those without a college degree
    • The death of civic organizations like Elks Lodge and Kiwanis Club
    • The high percentage of Ivy League graduates who choose careers in finance and consulting
    • The rise of populism based on “crude exaggerations, gross generalizations, and bald-faced lies.”

    Brooks somehow left the decline of small-town mom-and-pop businesses and the popularity of reality television off his laundry list.

    You may be wondering how the Ivies contributed to or caused all these problems. The essence of Brooks’s argument is that “every coherent society has a social ideal—an image of what the superior person looks like.” His hypothesis is that America’s social ideals reflect and are determined by the qualities that Ivy League universities value in admission.

    One hundred years ago, the Ivy League social ideal was what Brooks terms the “Well-Bred Man”—white, male, aristocratic and preppy, athletic, good-looking, and personable. What was not part of the ideal was intellectual brilliance or academic prowess, and in fact those who cared about studying were social outcasts. Applying to the Ivies resembled applying for membership to elite social clubs.

    That changed starting in the 1930s when a group of educational leaders, the most prominent being Harvard president James Conant, worried that the United States was not producing leaders capable of dealing with the problems it would face in the future. Their solution was to move to an admission process that rewarded intelligence rather than family lineage. They believed that intelligence was the highest human trait, one that is innate and distributed randomly throughout the population. Conant and his peers believed the change would lead to a nation with greater opportunities for social mobility.

    Brooks seems far from sure that the change was positive for America. He acknowledges that “the amount of bigotry—against women, Black people, the LGBTQ community—has declined” (that might be debatable given the current political climate), but observes that the previous ideal produced the New Deal, victory in World War II, NATO and the postwar world led by America, while the products of the ideal pushed by Conant have produced “quagmires in Vietnam and Afghanistan, needless carnage in Iraq, the 2008 financial crisis, the toxic rise of social media, and our current age of political dysfunction.” Those examples seem cherry-picked.

    In the essay, Brooks cites a number of troubling societal problems and trends, all supported with extensive research, but the weakness of his argument is that he tries to find a single cause to explain all of them. That common denominator is what he calls “meritocracy.”

    Meritocracy, a society with opportunities based on merit, is an appealing concept in theory, but defining merit is where things get sticky. Merit may be similar to Supreme Court justice Potter Stewart’s description of pornography, in that you know it when you see it. Does merit consist of talent alone? Talent combined with work ethic? Talent, work ethic and character?

    Merit is in the eye of the beholder. If I was admitted to an Ivy League university, it was obviously because I had merit. If someone else, especially someone from an underrepresented population, got the acceptance instead of me, factors other than merit must have been at play. If two candidates have identical transcripts but different SAT scores, which one possesses more merit? Complicating the discussion is the fact that many things cited as measures of merit are in fact measures of privilege.

    For Brooks, Ivy League meritocracy involves an overreliance on intelligence and academic achievement, to the detriment of noncognitive skills that are more central to success and happiness in life. He argues that “success in school is not the same thing as success in life,” with success in school primarily being individual while success in life is team-based. He quotes Adam Grant’s argument that academic excellence is not a strong predictor of career excellence.

    Ultimately, he argues that “meritocracy” has spurred the creation of “an American caste system,” one in which “a chasm divides the educated from the less well-educated,” triggering “a populist backlash that is tearing society apart.” Yet Brooks’s beef is not so much with meritocracy as it is with a mindset that he attributes to Conant and his brethren. He equates meritocracy with a belief in rationalism and social engineering that assumes that anything of value can be measured and counted. What he is criticizing is something different from meritocracy, or at least reflects a narrow definition of meritocracy.

    Even if we don’t agree with Brooks’s definitions, or the implication that Ivy League admission policies are responsible for the ills of society, his article raises a number of important questions about the college admission process at elite colleges and universities.

    First, is the worship of standardized testing misplaced? The SAT became prominent in college admission at around the same time that Conant and others were changing the Ivy League admission paradigm. They believed that intelligence could be measured and latched onto the SAT as a “pure,” objective measure of aptitude. Today, of course, we recognize that test scores are correlated with family income and that scores can be manipulated through test preparation. And the “A” in SAT no longer stands for aptitude.

    Do we measure what we value or do we value what we can measure? Brooks criticizes the Ivies for focusing on academic achievement in school at the expense of “noncognitive skills” that might be more important to success in life after college, things like curiosity, relationship-building skills and work ethic. He’s right, but there are two reasons for the current emphasis. One is that going to college is going to school, so an admission process focused on scholastic academic achievement is defensible. The other is that we haven’t developed a good mechanism for measuring noncognitive skills.

    That raises a larger question. What do we want the admission process to accomplish? The SAT is intended to predict freshman year college GPA (in conjunction with high school grades). Is that a satisfactory goal? Shouldn’t we have a larger lens, aiming to identify those who will be most successful at the end of college, or after college? Should we admit those with the greatest potential, those who will grow the most from the college experience, or those who will make the greatest contribution to society after college?

    Brooks questions elite colleges’ preferences for “spiky” students over those who are well-rounded. Is a student body full of spiky students really better? An even more important question arises from a distinction Brooks made some years ago between “résumé virtues” and “eulogy virtues.”

    Does the elite college admission process as currently constituted reward and encourage students who are good at building résumés? A former student attending an elite university commented that almost every classmate had done independent academic research and started a nonprofit. Do students aspiring to the Ivies choose activities because they really care about them or because they think they will impress admission officers, and can admission officers tell the difference? What is the consequence of having a student body full of those who are good at playing the résumé-building game?

    There is one other issue raised by Brooks that I find particularly important. He argues that those who are successful in the elite admission process end up possessing greater “hubris,” in that they believe their success is the product of their talent and hard work rather than privilege and luck. Rather than appreciating their good fortune, they may believe they are entitled to it. That misconception may also fuel the populist backlash to elites that has increased the division within our country.

    I don’t buy Brooks’s definition of meritocracy or his contention that the Ivy League “broke” America, but his article nevertheless merits reading and discussion.

    Jim Jump recently retired after 33 years as the academic dean and director of college counseling at St. Christopher’s School in Richmond, Va. He previously served as an admissions officer, philosophy instructor and women’s basketball coach at the college level and is a past president of the National Association for College Admission Counseling. He is the 2024 recipient of NACAC’s John B. Muir Excellence in Media Award.

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