This month in California state courts, the Social Media Victims Law Center and the Tech Justice Law Project brought lawsuits against the generative AI corporation OpenAI on behalf of seven individuals. Three of the plaintiffs allege that they suffered devastating mental health harms from using OpenAI’s flagship product, the large language model ChatGPT. Four of the plaintiffs died by suicide after interactions in which ChatGPT allegedly encouraged self-harm or delusions, in some instances acting as a “suicide coach.”
The details of these cases are very troubling. They raise questions about basic human qualities—our susceptibility to influence, our ability to project humanity on machines, and our deep need for love and companionship. But in a simpler way, they are heartbreaking.
In its final conversations this July with Zane Shamblin, a 23-year-old recent graduate of Texas A&M University, ChatGPT kept up its relatable tone to the end —mirroring Zane’s speech patterns, offering lyrical flourishes, and projecting a sense of eerie calm as it said goodbye. In a grim impersonation of a caring friend, the chatbot reportedly asked Zane what his last “unfulfilled dream” was and what his “haunting habit” would be after his passing.
In June, 17-year-old Amaurie Lacey, a football player and rising high school senior in Georgia, asked ChatGPT “how to hang myself” and how to tie a noose and received directions with little pushback, according to the legal organizations representing him in death. Like a siren luring a young man to his doom, ChatGPT deferentially replied to Amaurie’s question about how long someone could live without breathing, allegedly concluding its answer: “Let me know if you’re asking this for a specific situation—I’m here to help however I can.”
These accounts are chilling to me because I am a professor in the California State University system. Reading the details of these painful cases, I thought of my students—remarkably bright, warm, trusting and motivated young adults. Many San Francisco State University undergraduates are first-generation college attendees and they typically commute long distances, work and uphold caregiving responsibilities. They are resilient, but their mental health can be fragile.
Our students are also supposed to be budding users of ChatGPT. In February, our chancellor announced a new “AI-empowered university” initiative. As part of this program, Cal State is spending $17 million for OpenAI to provide “ChatGPT Edu” accounts to faculty, staff and the more than 460,000 students on our 23 campuses. This plan has been criticized for the pedagogical and labor concerns it poses, but to date there has been no conversation about other harms that ChatGPT Edu could cause at Cal State—California’s largest public university system.
It is time for us to have that conversation, partly because the product we’ve provided to our students has now been described in court as dangerous. ChatGPT Edu is ChatGPT 4o. It is only different insofar as it does not scrape user conversations to train its system. It is the same large language model that this month’s lawsuits accuse of causing delusional beliefs, hospitalizations, suicidal ideation, derailed careers and broken relationships. As the founding attorney of the Social Media Victims Law Center recently stated, “OpenAI designed GPT-4o to emotionally entangle users, regardless of age, gender, or background, and released it without the safeguards needed to protect them.”
This should be ringing alarm bells at Cal State, where we have a duty of care to protect students from foreseeable harms. In February, when the CSU’s “AI-empowered university” initiative was announced, few reports had suggested the possible mental health impacts of ChatGPT use. This is no longer true.
In June, a scathing investigation in The New York Times suggested the depth of “LLM psychosis” that people across the U.S. have encountered after their interactions with ChatGPT. Individuals have slipped into grandiose delusions, developed conspiratorial preoccupations, and, in at least twoseparate tragic cases, became homicidal as a result of these beliefs. While no one knows how many people are affected by LLM psychosis—it is poorly documented and difficult to measure—it should be clear by now that it is potentially very serious.
This issue is all the more concerning locally because the CSU system is inadequately capacitated to support struggling students. Like many other faculty, I have been trusted by students to hear stories of anxiety, depressive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, intimate partner abuse and suicidal ideation. Though our campus works very hard to assist students in distress, resources are thin.
Students at Cal State routinely wait weeks or months to receive appropriate assistance with mental health concerns. Indeed, a recently drafted state Senate bill emphasized that the system “is woefully understaffed with mental health counselors.” It is entirely predictable that in these circumstances, students will turn to the potentially dangerous “support” offered by ChatGPT.
In September, OpenAI described introducing guardrails to improve its responses to users who are experiencing very severe mental health problems. However, these safeguards have been critiqued as inadequate. Additionally, as OpenAI’s own reports show, these adjustments have only reduced problematic outputs, not eliminated them. As the lawsuits filed in California courts this month powerfully claim, ChatGPT is highly effective in reinforcing unhealthy cognitive states in at least some of its users. University administrators should not be reassured by OpenAI’s claim that “conversations that trigger safety concerns” among ChatGPT users ”are extremely rare”: Particularly at large institutions, it is highly likely that university-provided LLMs will be associated with student mental health concerns.
Cal State University partnered with OpenAI out of a desire to signal that our institution is forward-looking and open to innovation. In the same spirit, the CSU system should now close the book on ChatGPT—and give thanks that our students were not named in these cases. These tragic losses should mark the end of Cal State’s association with a flawed product. Going forward, our university must devote its resources to providing safer, more accountable and more human forms of care.
Martha Lincoln is an associate professor of cultural and medical anthropology at San Francisco State University.
In the world of K-12 education, teachers are constantly making decisions that affect their students and families. In contrast, administrators are tasked with something even bigger: making decisions that also involve adults (parents, staff culture, etc.) and preventing conflicts from spiraling into formal complaints or legal issues. Therefore, decisions and actions often have to balance two competing values: truth and risk management.
Some individuals, such as teachers, are very truth-oriented. They document interactions, clarify misunderstandings, and push for accuracy, recognizing that a single misrepresentation can erode trust with families, damage credibility in front of students, or most importantly, remove them from the good graces of administrators they respect and admire. Truth is not an abstract concept–it is paramount to professionalism and reputation. If a student states that they are earning a low grade because “the teacher doesn’t like me,” the teacher will go through their grade-book. If a parent claims that a teacher did not address an incident in the classroom, the teacher may respond by clarifying the inaccuracy via summarizing documentation of student statements, anecdotal evidence of student conversations, reflective activities, etc.
De-escalation and appeasement
In contrast, administrators are tasked with something even bigger. They have to view scenarios from the lens of risk management. Their role requires them to deescalate and appease. Administrators must protect the school’s reputation and prevent conflicts or disagreements from spiraling into formal complaints or legal issues. Through that lens, the truth sometimes takes a back seat to ostensibly achieve a quick resolution.
When a house catches on fire, firefighters point the hose, put out the flames, and move on to their next emergency. They don’t care if the kitchen was recently remodeled; they don’t have the time or desire to figure out a plan to put out the fire by aiming at just the living room, bedrooms, and bathrooms. Administrators can be the same way–they just want the proverbial “fire” contained. They do not care about their employees’ feelings; they just care about smooth sailing and usually softly characterize matters as misunderstandings.
To a classroom teacher who has carefully documented the truth, this injustice can feel like a bow tied around a bag of garbage. Administrators usually err on the side of appeasing the irrational, volatile, and dangerous employee, which risks the calmer employee feeling like they were overlooked because they are “weaker.” In reality, their integrity, professionalism, and level-headedness lead administrators to trust the employee will do right, know better, maintain appropriate decorum, rise above, and not foolishly escalate. This notion aligns to the scripture “To whom much is given, much is required” (Luke 12:48). Those with great abilities are judged at a higher bar.
In essence, administrators do not care about feelings, because they have a job to do. The employee with higher integrity is not the easier target but is easier to redirect because they are the safer, principled, and ethical employee. This is not a weakness but a strength in the eyes of the administration and that is what they prefer (albeit the employee may be dismissed, confused, and their feelings may be hurt, but that is not the administration’s focus at all).
Finding common ground
Neither perspective (truth or risk management) is wrong. Risk management matters. Without it, schools would be replete with endless investigations and finger-pointing. Although, when risk management consistently overrides truth, the system teaches teachers that appearances matter more than accountability, which does not meet the needs of validation and can thus truly hurt on a personal level. However, in the work environment, finding common ground and moving forward is more important than finger-pointing because the priority has to be the children having an optimal learning environment.
We must balance the two. Perhaps, administrators should communicate openly, privately, and directly to educators who may not always understand the “game.” Support and transparency are beneficial. Explaining the “why” behind a decision can go a long way in building staff trust, morale, and intelligence. Further, when teachers feel supported in their honesty, they are less likely to disengage because transparency, accuracy, and an explanation of risk management can actually prevent fires from igniting in the first place. Additionally, teachers and administrators should explore conflict resolution strategies that honor truth while still mitigating risk. This can assist in modelling for students what it means to live with integrity in complex situations. Kids deserve nothing less.
Lastly, teachers need to be empathetic to the demands on their administrators. “If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived” (Galatians 6:1-3). This scripture means that teachers should focus less on criticizing or “keeping score” (irrespective of the truth and the facts, and even if false-facts are generated to manage risk), but should work collaboratively while also remembering and recognizing that our colleagues (and even administrators) can benefit from the simple support of our grace and understanding. Newer colleagues and administrators are often in survival mode.
Dr. Yuvraj Verma, Bessemer City Middle School and William Howard Taft University
International students see American life portrayed in movies and on TikTok; U.S. universities have built global brands, helped along by Hollywood and merchandising. When it comes time to apply, international students can readily imagine a U.S. college experience, starting with seeing themselves in a crimson sweatshirt studying on a grassy quad flanked by ivy-covered buildings.
And as the U.S.’s hold on cutting-edge science and innovation slips away to China, and other destinations with more welcoming visa policies offer lower-cost degrees and jobs, soft power might be the only edge American universities have left.
The desire is about more than bricks and mortarboards. Students from other countries have long sought out American values of academic freedom and open discourse. They are excited by ideas and experiences that are as emblematic of the American way of life as tailgating on game day: criticizing the government, discussing LGBTQ+ rights or learning about the Tiananmen Square massacre in China, the Armenian genocide in Turkey or the comfort women victimized by the Imperial Japanese Army.
But in 2025, those freedoms are at risk of becoming strictly theoretical. Anti-DEI laws in Utah led to Weber State University asking researchers to remove the words “diversity,” “equity” and “inclusion” from their slides before presenting at a—wait for it—conference on navigating the complexities of censorship. Conference organizers canceled the event after other presenters pulled out in protest.
University leaders in Texas and Florida are refusing to put in writing policies that prohibit faculty from talking about transgender identity or diversity, equity and inclusion in classrooms, sowing fear and confusion across their campuses. A secret recording of a Texas A&M professor talking about gender in her class led to a successful campaign by a state representative to get her fired and forced a former four-star general to resign as university president.
This weekend, students at Towson University moved their No Kings rally off campus after school officials told them their speakers’ names would be run through a federal government database. They changed locations out of fear the speakers would be targeted by the Trump administration.
Meanwhile, dozens of faculty are still out of jobs after being fired for posting comments online about the murder of Charlie Kirk. Repressing free speech on social media is also what the Chinese government does to political dissenters.
It’s true that colleges are exercising American values by following laws passed by democratically elected legislators. And presidents say they will follow the rule of law without compromising their missions, but overcompliance with vague legislation and policies is incompatible with this aim.
International students who care about more than a name brand may find the erosion of the country’s global reputation as a democratic stronghold a reason to look elsewhere. That means billions of dollars are also at stake if international students no longer trust in America’s values and choose to stay away. Modeling from NAFSA: Association of International Educators projected a 30 to 40 percent drop in international students this fall that would result in $7 billion in lost revenue and more than 60,000 fewer jobs across the country. Records from August suggest a similar outlook: 19 percent fewer students arrived in the U.S. compared to August 2024.
International students bring more than just valuable tuition dollars to American campuses. They contribute global perspectives to their less traveled American peers and build relationships that could turn into partnerships when they go home and become entrepreneurs or political leaders.
Higher ed can track the number of international student visas issued, students who enroll and the economic contributions of these students, but they can’t quantify what it means when a student in Shanghai stops imagining America as a place where all ideas can be expressed and explored. It’s taken decades for this country to build power based on free expression and open discourse, but by the time the loss of students starts to register in economic data and visa applications, the decline may be too late to reverse.
In the late 1990s, a group of commuters would board the early-morning Amtrak train from Philadelphia to Washington, D.C. They’d sit in the first car behind the locomotive, enjoying communal, consensual silence. Eventually and with the conductor’s help, their car was officially designated as a noise-free zone. Soon after, Denise LaBencki-Fullmer, an Amtrak manager, recognized the value of a peaceful ride and institutionalized the program as the quiet car. At the request of passengers, it soon spread to a number of other commuter services.
The educational technology sector has something to learn from the Amtrak commuters’ deliberate design of their environment. Learning requires the ability to concentrate. You need a space where you are allowed to process information, recall facts, analyze complex questions and think creatively about ideas, problems and solutions. Learning is not a smooth and easy process—in fact, it is desirable that it’s a bit difficult, because that is how we actually learn. Getting someone to do learning tasks for you, as tempting or comfortable as that might be, won’t work.
A great deal of learning still happens online, even at colleges that value in-person teaching as much as Princeton University does. The learning management system is where our students find readings, review lecture slides and practice their skills and comprehension on homework assignments. It is also where many instructors administer assessments, both low-stakes quizzes and high-stakes exams.
Last month, Google launched a feature called “Homework help” in Chrome—a shiny blue button right in the address bar. By engaging it, a student could prompt Google Gemini to summarize a reading or solve a quiz question in a matter of seconds. It thereby robbed the student of the learning activity that they were there to do. A few weeks later Google repositioned the feature so it is a bit less obvious (at least for now), but the question remains: What kind of AI tools should we make available to our students in learning management systems and assessment platforms?
You might be thinking that this is a pointless question: AI is going to be everywhere—it already is. And sure, that is true. Also, if a student wants to use AI, it is easy enough to open another browser tab and ask an LLM for help. But installing the AI right in the environment in which the student is trying to learn is equivalent to sitting next to the most obnoxious cell yeller on your train ride: You can’t think your own thoughts, because the distraction is so big.
Just as there are quiet cars on trains, there can be quiet areas of the internet. Learning management systems and assessment platforms should be one such area. That doesn’t mean that there can’t be good uses of AI in learning. Our students should know how to use AI responsibly, thoughtfully and critically, as should the faculty who teach them (I sometimes use AI in my own teaching, for instance). But we should also ask that the companies that provide us with learning technologies think critically and carefully about whether AI aids the difficult, careful work that learning requires or, in fact, removes the opportunity for it. AI is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be intentional about how, why and where we implement it.
I have spent the last few weeks talking with colleagues at other colleges and universities and with the partners that provide our educational technology. Everyone I have spoken with cares about education, and none of them think it’s a good idea that we implement AI in a way that so clearly pulls students out of the learning process. It is actually not unrealistic that people in the tech industry and education sector come together to make the same kind of pact that the train commuters made some 25 years ago and declare our online learning systems an AI quiet zone. We would be doing the right thing by our students if we did.
Mona Fixdal provides strategic planning and pedagogical leadership for Princeton University’s suite of teaching and learning technologies as well its online learning program. She has a Ph.D. in political science from the University of Oslo and is the author of Just Peace: How Wars Should End and a number of chapters and articles on postwar justice and third-party mediation.
In the lead up to her son’s birth, Jacqueline made plans to call 911 for an ambulance to pick her up from her North Florida home and transport her to a hospital about an hour away.
The second-time mom and Guatemalan immigrant, who has lived in the country for a decade, would have relied on her husband to drive her to the hospital. But a few months ago he was deported, leaving Jacqueline and her daughter without the family’s primary source of income, transportation and support.
One morning in March, Jacqueline said, her partner was pulled over on his way to work when law enforcement officials discovered he didn’t have a valid driver’s license. Jacqueline’s pregnancy was in its early stages. Her husband fought his case from detention for three months before U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) removed him to Guatemala.
“He was deported and I was left behind, thinking, ‘What am I going to do?’” said Jacqueline, who requested that her last name not be published because she lacks permanent legal status. The couple shares an 8-year-old daughter who was born in, and is a citizen of, the United States.
This summer, as she entered the later stages of this pregnancy amid the Trump administration’s turbocharged immigration enforcement, Jacqueline found herself so fearful of being detained that she avoided leaving her home. Her husband’s car sits in the driveway, but there are no signs of him in the small room Jacqueline shares with her daughter. His belongings — tools, clothes, even personal photos — are with him in Guatemala. The only family pictures Jacqueline has are on her phone.
Her partner was the family’s main provider, rotating between picking strawberries or watermelon and packing pine needles for mulch, depending on the season.
Jacqueline struggled to get the most basic items to welcome a baby: Someone gifted her a used carseat and crib, which sit in the packed room along with onesies and other clothing items she’s collected inside a large plastic bag. She’s hoping that a federal assistance program will cover the cost of formula. A baby tub is still on her list.
Medical care in her rural area has been possible only because a small nonprofit organization nearby that provides prenatal care services offered to pay for Ubers so she could continue regular check-ups. Even if she wasn’t behind the wheel, Jacqueline says that just the act of leaving her home feels risky since her husband’s deportation.
“Things got really complicated. He paid our rent — he paid for everything,” she said. “Now, I’m always worried.”
At her home in North Florida, Jacqueline looks at a photo of her husband and daughter on her phone. The only family pictures she has are on her phone; her husband’s belongings — tools, clothes, even personal photos — are with him in Guatemala. (Michelle Bruzzese for The 19th)
Medical care and support essential to a healthy pregnancy have become harder for people like Jacqueline to obtain following President Donald Trump’s inauguration. Many patients — nervous about encountering immigration officials if they leave their homes, drive on public roads or visit a medical clinic — are skipping virtually all of their pregnancy-related health care. Some are opting to give birth at home with the help of midwives because of the possible presence of ICE at hospitals.
Across the country, medical providers who serve immigrant communities said fewer patients are coming in for prenatal or other pregnancy-related care. As a result, patients are experiencing dangerous complications, advocates and health care providers told The 19th.
“Fear of ICE is pushing my patients and their families away from the very systems meant to protect their health and their pregnancies,” said Dr. Josie Urbina, an OB-GYN in San Francisco.
In January, Trump rescinded a federal policy that protected designated areas including hospitals, health clinics and doctors’ offices from immigration raids. ICE has recently targeted patients in hospital maternity wards and on their way home from prenatal visits.
A majority of Americans believe ICE should not be carrying out immigration enforcement at health centers. A new poll from The 19th and SurveyMonkey conducted in mid-September found that most Americans don’t think ICE should be allowed to detain immigrants at hospitals, their workplace, domestic violence shelters, schools or churches.
Women are more likely to oppose enforcement in these spaces than men. More than two-thirds of women said ICE shouldn’t be allowed to detain immigrants in hospital settings.
Enforcement is only expected to grow as the administration works to meet its ambitious deportation goals. The federal government is pouring more than $170 billion over the next four years into expanding immigration enforcement, the result of Trump’s signature tax-and-spending bill. About $45 billion has been directed to expanding detention facilities; $29.9 billion is to increase ICE activity.
That expansion could put even more births at risk. Approximately 250,000 babies are born every year to immigrants without permanent legal status. Already, research has shown these immigrants, who have higher uninsured rates, are less likely to seek prenatal care and are at risk of worse birth outcomes.
Major medical groups, including the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecologists, World Health Organization and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recommend regular prenatal and postpartum care as a key tool to combat pregnancy-related death and infant mortality.
According to the federal Office of Women’s Health, infants born to parents who received no prenatal care are three times more likely to have a low birth weight and five times more likely to die than those born to parents who received regular care.
A CDC analysis published last year found infant mortality rates went up the later families began prenatal care: 4.54 deaths per 100,000 live births for families whose prenatal care began in the first trimester, compared with 10.75 in families whose prenatal care began in the third trimester or who did not receive any at all.
“A lot of patients aren’t going to get help,” said Yenny James, the founder and CEO of Paradigm Doulas in the Dallas-Fort Worth metro.
After her husband’s deportation, Jacqueline became so fearful of being detained that she avoided leaving her home. “He was deported and I was left behind, thinking, ‘What am I going to do?’” she said. (Michelle Bruzzese for The 19th)
James said she’s seeing an increasing number of emergency cesarean sections because of untreated gestational diabetes, or preeclampsia — a deadly pregnancy complication — that went unnoticed because of lacking prenatal care.
In Denver, OB-GYN Dr. Rebecca Cohen has delivered multiple babies this year for women who have told her that, because they fear endangering themselves or their families, they have received no prenatal care. Several have given birth to babies with fatal fetal anomalies that were never diagnosed because the women did not receive prenatal ultrasounds.
“They were willing to forgo care — their own health care — but to find out that something was devastatingly wrong with their child is when they feel like maybe they should have risked it,” Cohen said. “There’s a sound of a mother’s wail that anybody who has worked labor and delivery has known, and it will haunt you for the rest of your life. To hear that when it could have been prevented, it is just absolutely devastating.”
Early in her pregnancy, Jacqueline received free care at a local clinic. Shortly after her husband’s detention, she called the office to let them know she likely wouldn’t make her next appointment.
“I told them that I probably wouldn’t be able to make my appointments anymore, well, because I’m really afraid given what happened to my husband. And they offered to help,” she said.
Jacqueline and the nonprofit clinic worked out an arrangement: The day of her appointments, someone at the clinic called an Uber to her home, paid for by the clinic, and let her know when it would arrive so she could be ready.
Many people in her small town have come to rely on a single person who does have a valid driver’s license for transportation. That driver recently brought Jacqueline to an appointment with the local office that manages the Special Supplemental Nutrition Program for Women, Infants and Children (WIC), which she is relying on for baby formula and food. There were no guarantees that this driver would be available to take her in whenever she goes into labor.
The Biden administration directed ICE not to detain, arrest or take into custody pregnant, postpartum or breastfeeding people simply for breaking immigration laws, except under “exceptional circumstances.” The Trump administration has not formally reversed that policy. But despite the directive, reports from across the country confirm that ICE has detained numerous pregnant immigrants since Trump took office.
James said that until the Biden guidance is formally rescinded, she will continue to encourage pregnant immigrants to print it out and carry it with them.
“I told my doulas — have them print out this ICE directive, have them keep it with them, so that they know and these agents know that we know our rights, our clients know their rights,” James said.
Jacqueline prepares for the birth of her second child in the room she shares with her daughter. Someone gifted her a used car seat and crib, which sit among the few items she’s collected inside a plastic bag to welcome the baby. (Michelle Bruzzese for The 19th)
It’s unclear exactly how many pregnant immigrants are being detained by ICE, or have been arrested by the agency. A May report from the office of Democratic Sen. Dick Durbin found 14 pregnant women in a single Louisiana detention facility at the time of staff’s visit.
Another report out of the office of Democratic Sen. Jon Ossoff published in late July found 14 credible reports of mistreatment of pregnant women in immigrant detention. The report cited an anonymous agency official who said they saw pregnant women sleeping on floors in overcrowded intake cells. The partner of a pregnant woman in federal custody said that she bled for days before she was taken to a hospital, where she miscarried alone. A pregnant detainee who spoke to Ossoff’s office said she repeatedly asked for medical attention and was told to “just drink water.” The office received several reports of clients waiting weeks to see a doctor, and that sometimes scheduled appointments were canceled. ICE has disputed the report.
“Pregnant women receive regular prenatal visits, mental health services, nutritional support, and accommodations aligned with community standards of care. Detention of pregnant women is rare and has elevated oversight and review. No pregnant woman has been forced to sleep on the floor,” ICE said in a statement posted on their website.
ICE did not respond to a request for comment.
Fear of being detained is a major contributor of stress for pregnant immigrants. Research shows that even when pregnant patients do receive medical care, prenatal stress puts many at greater risk of complicated births and poor outcomes, including premature birth and low infant birth weight. Babies born after an immigration raid are at a 24 percent higher risk of low birth weight, according to one study.
Monica, 38, is expecting her fourth child in November. The Tucson resident, who requested that her last name not be published out of fear of being detained, has lived in the United States for two decades but has no legal immigration status.
This pregnancy has been unlike the others, she said: While Monica has continued with her prenatal care appointments, her anxiety levels about her immigration situation have colored her experience. Her other children, who are in their teens, are U.S. citizens but grappling with the stress of their parents’ situation. Her husband also doesn’t have authorization to live in the country.
“We try to be out and about much less, and to take precautions,” she said. “Whenever we do leave the house, we have it in the back of our minds.”
Monica said she has seen reports of ICE being allowed inside hospitals, and she is worried about facing immigration officers while or following her birth. Her plan is to have her partner and a group of friends at the hospital to make sure she’s never alone.
“My biggest fear is going to the hospital,” she said.
Stress like Monica’s makes pregnancy more dangerous.
Jacqueline holds a bottle of prenatal vitamins at her home in North Florida. A small nonprofit clinic nearby has been paying for Ubers so she can continue her prenatal check-ups. (Michelle Bruzzese for The 19th)
“In our hospital, every doctor I’ve talked to — and these are doctors that have been there 20 years — all are saying these past six months they’ve seen worse obstetrics outcomes than ever in their career,” Dr. Parker Duncan Diaz, a family physician in Santa Rosa, California, whose clinic mostly cares for Latinx patients. That’s included more preterm labor and more pregnant patients with severe hypertension.
“I don’t know what’s causing it, but my bias is that it is the impact of this horribly toxic stress environment,” he added, specifically noting the stress caused by the threat of immigration enforcement.
In recent months, Dr. Caitlin Bernard, an Indiana-based OB-GYN, has seen a number of pregnant patients seeking emergency attention who have not received any prenatal health care. One was 31 weeks, approaching the end of her pregnancy. Another was more than 20 weeks pregnant when she came to Bernard’s office, having developed complications from a molar pregnancy — a rare condition that means a healthy birth is impossible and that without early treatment can result in vaginal bleeding, thyroid problems and even cancer.
“Anytime you’re not able to access that early prenatal care, we do see complications with that,” she said. “And many of these things can absolutely be life-threatening for both the moms and the babies.”
Dr. Daisy Leon-Martinez, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist in San Francisco, said she now regularly cares for patients in her labor and delivery ward who have been transferred to her hospital because of newly developed pregnancy complications. These are often their first doctors’ visits since becoming pregnant. Many of those patients have told her that they did not want to seek prenatal care for fear of encountering immigration officials.
During regular visits, she added, she has advised people with pregnancy complications that they would be best served by a hospital stay — only to be told that her patients no longer feel safe going to the hospital.
The current enforcement environment is challenging immigrant advocates, who are continuing to encourage immigrants to seek appropriate medical care while acknowledging that doing so is increasingly risky.
Lupe Rodríguez, the executive director of the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Justice, said her organization is urging pregnant immigrants to seek the health care that they need, and to be proactive about making plans for themselves and their families in the event that they are detained.
“We can’t know for certain about any given [health care center] whether or not it’s going to be safe. One of the things that we’ve been seeing is leadership at some of these health centers — big hospitals and clinics — have said that they will provide the kind of protection that folks need, that they don’t want folks to be afraid of care,” Rodriguez said.
While those statements signal the intentions of a hospital’s leadership, Rodriguez said, “we still know that there are individuals within some of those care centers that are part of the reporting mechanism or are intimidating people.”
Outside her home in North Florida, Jacqueline sits in a red chair as a chicken wanders nearby. (Michelle Bruzzese for The 19th)
Jacqueline approached the last days of her pregnancy hopeful that the place she had chosen — a large university hospital that workers at her local clinic recommended — would be a safe place for her to give birth.
One night at the end of September, when labor pains grew too intense, she called for an ambulance and made it to the hospital. When she got there, she asked her providers if there were any ICE agents near the building. She had heard of a man at a local hospital being detained after having surgery. They told her there were none they were aware of.
She went on to deliver her baby under general anesthesia after a long, difficult labor. “I didn’t even hear him cry when they pulled him out,” she said. Her only relative left in the area was taking care of her daughter, so she recovered alone at the hospital for five days before heading home in an Uber that a social worker procured for her and her son.
“If my husband was here, he would have been there with me at the hospital,” Jacqueline said while recovering at home. “He would be here taking care of me, of us. I wouldn’t be worried about the things I still want to get for the baby.”
This story was originally reported by Mel Leonor Barclay and Shefali Luthra of The 19th. Meet Mel and Shefali and read more of their reporting on gender, politics and policy.
It’s 2029. The international student fee levy is finally in place, after a complicated legislative passage, further consultation, and squabbles over implementation.
Still riding high in the polls, though with an eye to accusations of unfunded spending commitments, Reform’s manifesto promises to jack up the levy to 40 per cent, explicitly labelling it a lever to cut net migration and unsurprisingly deaf to its effects on university balance sheets (as well as to arguments that this could in fact reduce the overall take – they have modelling which says it won’t).
After all, the primary legislation to operationalise the government top-slice of universities’ student income leaves the exact amount of the levy to the discretion of the Secretary of State. It will be a relatively simple laying of regulations to have the new percentage in place by autumn.
Scratch that – it’s 2032. The Conservatives are back in power (somehow). The industrial strategy has been binned, and with it the underpinnings of the “priority subject areas” that have determined which students and which courses are eligible for maintenance grants. With the pretext that those who benefit from higher education should in later life foot the bill – and the entirely accurate observation that whether maintenance is in the form of of grant or loan doesn’t actually affect whether students are “working every hour God sends” to support themselves while studying – the Conservative government decides to end the confusing patchwork of targeted grants it has inherited and (once again) shift student support over to maintenance loans. (Oh and the levy income will instead be used to plug the growing apprenticeship overspend.)
Now when the act passed there was nothing that made a cast-iron link between grants and the fee levy – indeed, there’s not a single mention of how the funds should be spent on the face of the bill, because that’s not the kind of thing you can practically legislate for. Backbenchers flagged this, ministers said it was a commitment and they would stick to it, and Labour’s majority held up.
This hypothetical Tory Treasury is still antsy about expanding the loan book – gilts are still high, the era of rock-bottom interest rates seems a distant memory – and the price of raising borrowing for maintenance is the announcement of a multi-year freeze on tuition fees. Here we go again.
How about this one: it’s halfway through Labour’s second term in office, and it’s becoming clear that the modular LLE hasn’t really taken off. The demand for several thousand pounds of plan 5 loan debt in return for a short course has, shockingly, not materialised. As happened with the pilot exercise, DfE tries to tempt learners in with student support grants, rather than chunked up maintenance loans. When this doesn’t bear much fruit, as with the modular acceleration programme the next play is to entirely waive tuition fees for technical courses, just deducting them from LLE entitlement instead.
Despite low demand, the need to keep finding little pots of cash to spend for the incentivising of modular provision has stretched DfE’s willingness to let too much of the levy income go towards maintenance grants for full degrees (especially as, to the surprise of few, the department was never intending to allocate the whole haul to maintenance grants).
Maybe there’s a damning National Audit Office report. Maybe there are anecdotal reports of spotty financial controls and agents encouraging students onto certain newly launched courses to get access to lump sums of maintenance, rather than for genuine study. With an eye on the next election and the 10-year NHS workforce plan’s final year looming, the thought pops up – wouldn’t it be politically expedient to just bring back grants for nursing students rather than fiddling around with all these industrial strategy bits and pieces?
Final one. It’s 2038 or something, and the Office for National Statistics is finally approaching the end of its review of the classification of higher education in the national accounts which it began in 2017. To be fair to the beleaguered stats body, each UK nation has either made large changes to its higher education system in the interim, or announced wholesale reviews which have then not led to much change, leading to one pause after another. Finally though, the ONS is in a position to weigh up all the dimensions of the government’s oversight and control of the English higher education sector, which now includes the ability to skim off a set percentage of all international student income – and decides on classification within the public sector.
All the sector submissions and parliamentary interventions which tried to advocate against the levy on these very grounds – the scare stories of controls on borrowing, limits on senior staff pay, and changes to how accounts are managed – are vindicated. (However, as Julian Gravatt has pointed out in the definitive article on the topic, the government of the day then carefully takes steps to address just enough of the specifics of the ONS’ decision and thus move universities back out of the public sector. It doesn’t want to lose out on the income the levy brings, so instead it makes changes elsewhere, to regulation perhaps, or pensions. It’s all a bit of a mess.)
Through the trapdoor
However the government decides to legislate for the fee levy – it might be a standalone bill, or wrapped up in a larger HE Act – it’s going to be a complicated process. Labour backbenchers have been expressing concerns since it was first mooted, but the grafting on of maintenance grants means that it will be harder for MPs to vote against.
The sector has largely marshalled two arguments against it: that it will enormously destabilise finances, and that it’s unfair and risky to further cross-subsidise home students with international income. On the first, it’s clear that the government is not convinced that there isn’t a bit more to be squeezed, especially as it has seen much of the sector impose year after year of inflation-busting increases to overseas fee sticker prices – it’s probably no surprise that the white paper modelling saw the cost of the levy passed on, even though some universities will be unable to achieve this in practice. It’s still a sensible argument to make, though until we see to what extent the government is slow-rolling a wider package of tuition fee increases it’s hard to know whether it can gain traction.
Equally, the argument about cross-subsidy is proving and will continue to prove ineffective, given that DfE has hinted its intention to claim that this helps higher education make the case for international student recruitment to the wider public on exactly those grounds.
But there’s a larger, longer-term case to be made to ministers and parliamentarians, that considers the enormous unintended consequences and political risks that prising open HE balance sheets in this way will enable. Once the backdoor has been installed, it’s there for hostile actors to take advantage of, and for user error to compound the problems. It is verging on a certainty that the legislation will neither restrict the level the levy is set at nor ringfence how its takings are used.
Now the announcement has been made it’s almost certainly too late, but the need for the government to legislate to make this a reality points to missed opportunities around cooperation on access – a sector-owned and co-funded pot of money for student support and, yes, redistribution would have been far more effective at staying out of the political fray. This levy will be square in the middle of it, for many years to come.
According to reports, a brief note issued by the Department of Home Affairs through the Provider Registration and International Student Management System (PRISMS), which oversees international student data, confirms that evidence levels have been updated.
“The September 2025 evidence level update for countries and education providers (based on student visa outcome data from 1 July 2024 to 30 June 2025) has taken place, effective for applications lodged on or after 30 September 2025,” read a statement by the DHA on the PRISMS website.
Consultants and universities in Australia are able to work out these levels through the government’s document checklist tool, which reveals a provider’s risk standing based on the requirements triggered when paired with a student’s country of origin.
Reports suggest that level 1 (lowest risk) includes Bangladesh and Sri Lanka; level 2 (moderate risk) includes India, Bhutan, Vietnam, China, and Nepal; and level 3 (highest risk) includes Fiji, the Philippines, Pakistan, and Colombia.
Although India and Vietnam, both prominent source markets for Australia, improved from level 3 to level 2 on the back of stronger grant rates, China slipped from level 1 to level 2, possibly due to a surge in asylum applications from Chinese nationals, particularly students, as some reports suggest.
While education providers in Australia registered under CRICOS (Commonwealth Register of Institutions and Courses for Overseas Students) are assigned an evidence level, each country is also given one based on its past performance with student visas, particularly visa refusals, asylum applications, and breaches of conditions.
Are there not more Indians applying for protection visas? Hasn’t Nepal followed Sri Lanka and Bangladesh in political turmoil, where the economy has suffered? This has raised concerns around students meeting GS requirements Ravi Lochan Singh, Global Reach
The combination of provider and country levels determines the documents required for an international student’s visa application.
Stakeholders have highlighted the lack of transparency in assessing country risk levels, particularly as students from countries with reduced risk ratings may still arrive in Australia under precarious conditions.
“Are there not more Indians applying for protection visas? Hasn’t Nepal followed Sri Lanka and Bangladesh in political turmoil, where the economy has suffered? This has raised concerns around students meeting GS requirements. There are also whispers that certain operators may encourage students to apply for protection visas,” stated Ravi Lochan Singh, managing director, Global Reach.
Visa prioritisation is already tied to intended caps, with applications processed on a first-in, first-out basis until a provider reaches 80% of its allocation, explained Singh.
With almost all universities now streamlined for visas and the majority promoted from level 2 to level 1, lowest risk, and almost none remaining in level 3, the evidence-level system appears unnecessary to some.
“The concept of ‘streamlining’ (and then the development later of the SSVF) took place at a time where there was a whole-of-government focus on growing international student numbers and increasing the value, while maintaining integrity, of the highly important international education sector,” shared Mike Ferguson, pro vice-chancellor of Charles Sturt University.
According to Ferguson, a former DHA official, “English and financial requirements were streamlined as part of the visa process, based on a risk assessment, given the other safeguards in place – obligations enforced by TEQSA and ASQA in terms of providers ensuring students have sufficient English proficiency and the use of the GTE requirement to consider a student’s holistic economic circumstances.”
However, with international student numbers rising since the early 2010s, “times have changed” and the focus has shifted to managing enrolments and ensuring sustainable growth, explained Ferguson.
“My view is that all students should provide evidence of funds and English with the visa process. That would align with community expectations, support enhanced integrity and potentially help to some degree with some of the course hopping behaviour we are seeing (though the latter requires a range of measures),” he contineud.
“DHA could still determine the degree to which they scrutinise the funds submitted but that would be based on a more holistic and granular risk assessment – not just based on country and provider.”
Evidence levels of select Australian institutions, showing whether they have remained steady, been upgraded, or downgraded, as shared by Ravi Lochan Singh. Correction: Deakin University was previously categorized under risk level 2 (not 1) and has since been upgraded to 1.
Singh further stated that concerns around visa hopping and attrition could be exacerbated, as international students may now enter Australia through universities and then transition to higher-risk, non-university sectors without needing new visa applications, especially since Australia has yet to mandate linking study visas to the institution of initial enrolment, unlike neighbouring New Zealand.
Moreover, Singh pointed out that when students arrive without adequate financial backing, it can increase visa misuse, which may lead authorities to tighten risk classifications again.
“The document checklist tool provides a clear framework for assessing the risk level of a university. However, it raises concerns about the recent trend of promoting the application of visas without financial funds, as suggested by the document checklist tools. While these visas may be approved, this approach could potentially lead to the return of the country to risk level 3 in the future,” stated Singh.
“For instance, if a country’s risk level is 3 (such as Pakistan), and Home Affairs requires financial and English requirements to be attached to the visa application, the university’s risk level is inferred to be 2. If the Home Affairs tool waives this requirement, the risk level is reduced to 1.”
The PIE has requested comment from the DHA and is awaiting a response.
Australia’s reported changes to country evidence levels come just a month after the government announced an additional 25,000 international student places for next year, raising the cap to 295,000.
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A loss of international students due to restrictive federal policies could disproportionately harm small private colleges that have specialized focuses or are affiliated with Christian churches, according to a recent report from the Brookings Institution.
Many public institutions that charge much higher tuition for international and out-of-state students could also face serious financial hits, said the report’s author, Dick Startz, an economics professorat the University of California, Santa Barbara.
In his analysis, Startz looked at the common traits of colleges where international students made up at least 30% of enrollment. He found that all of those colleges were private, tended to be small, and have a special focus like business or arts.
They were also disproportionately Christian colleges. According to the report, Christian institutions represent 34.3% of colleges and universities where international students comprise more than 30% of total enrollment.
“Perhaps the importance of international students to Christian schools should not be so surprising,” the report said. “Many Christian schools are affiliated with evangelical beliefs, spreading their faith globally.”
Many small private and religious colleges in the U.S. have closed in recent years amid enrollment losses.For such institutions, a sudden loss of 30% of their student population could be a “disaster,” the report warned.
“The majority of schools will see very little effect,” said Startz. “But there are a small number of schools — private schools that are not very large — and 30% of their budget could disappear. It could be devastating.”
In June, the U.S. Department of State reopened consular interviews for foreign studentslooking to apply or renew their student visas after freezing the process the month prior.The State Department, however, now requires those students to unlock their social media accounts so consular officers can review whether they consider their posts hostile to the U.S. or to its culture and founding principles, The Associated Press reported.
International students who were previously in the country with active visas are less likely to be affected, said Startz. But first-year students, new graduate students, or some students who need to renew their visas will be impacted, he said.
It’s unclear how much those policies will affect international student enrollment or when colleges may start seeing significant impacts, said Startz. But some major colleges and university systems are already beginning to report a major drop in international student enrollment.
Over the summer, NASFSA: Association of International Educators projected international enrollment at U.S. colleges could decline by as much as 150,000 students this semester if the federal government did not start ramping up efforts to issue visas.
International freshmen enrollment at elite institutions like Princeton University and Columbia University remained steady heading into fall, The New York Times reported. However, other institutions, such as the University at Buffalo, are reportedly experiencing significant declines in international student enrollment, NPR reported.
Affecting the economy, affecting colleges
Volatility in international student levels could affect nearly every college in the country that enrolls foreign students, the Brookings report stated. But not every college — even the ones with large foreign student enrollments — would be affected equally.
Colleges such as the University of California, Santa Barbara — where international students make up 9% of enrollment — could face serious financial threats. That’s because those students pay triple the tuition paid by in-state students at UC Santa Barbara, the report stated.
Institutions such as New York University, Northeastern University and Arizona State University also enroll a lot of international students — but compared to their total student population, it’s “not overwhelmingly high,” said Startz.
And prestigious institutions could probably fill those students’ slots regardless, he said.
A loss in international enrollment could also impact the economies of college towns — hurting landlords and local businesses like pizza shops and bars, said Startz.
Democratic-leaning states, such as Massachusetts, could be disproportionately affected economically, the report stated. But there could also be repercussions for the U.S. in general, as many international students eventually work at high-tech firms and in university labs conducting major medical and science research, Startz added.
International students often attend U.S. colleges because they want to be taught in English, said Startz. As such, the U.S. might lose many of those students to Australia, Canada, the United Kingdom, Hong Kong and Singapore, he said.
That could affect the U.S. politically. International students often return home with a positive view of America and Americans and go on to help lead their country in politics or business, Startz said. That includes prime ministers, such as the heads of Canada, Singapore and Botswana, he said.
“There’s certainly a concern that we’re just making students feel unwelcome,” said Startz. “If they choose either not to come or they come and actually have a bad experience, way down the road that’s a really bad thing.”
Nearly two years ago, the Hamas-led October 7 attacks on Israel and Israel’s subsequent invasion of Gaza sparked intense debate and demonstrations on American campuses.
Many schools responded by attempting to censor controversial but protected speech in the name of combating antisemitism. But in testimony before Congress on Dec. 5, 2023, University of Pennsylvania’s then-President Liz Magill initially declined to follow suit. She explained that “calling for genocide” does not always violate Penn’s rules. Instead, she correctly labeled this a “context-dependent decision,” recognizing that rhetoric some find deeply offensive can still be protected speech. This assertion was in line with Penn’s longstanding — but oftenignored — commitment to tracking the First Amendment in its own policies.
Unfortunately, Magill quickly backtracked in the face of public criticism, including from Pennsylvania Gov. Josh Shapiro. The governor said publicly that Magill needed to “give a one-word answer” and that her testimony demonstrated a “failure of leadership.”
As it turns out, the governor’s response was not limited to his public comments. Recent reporting by The Chronicle of Higher Education reveals how Gov. Shapiro’s office enmeshed itself in this controversy and in Penn’s response to antisemitism on campus in the months and semester that followed October 7.
Seizing on a rarely used provision of the Penn Statutes of the Trustees that establishes the governor as a trustee ex officio, Gov. Shapiro appointed Philadelphia lawyer Robb Fox as his observer to the board of trustees. Gov. Shapiro’s director of external affairs Amanda Warren explained in a then-private email that Fox would be “integrated into all future board meetings, as well as ongoing antisemitism work, on behalf of the Governor.” Fox was previously part of the governor’s transition team in 2022 and serves as his appointee on the board of SEPTA, Philadelphia’s transit authority.
Per the Chronicle, Fox “quickly immersed himself in Penn’s affairs — arguing technicalities of the board of trustee’s rules, liaising with students, faculty, and administrators, and contributing to Penn’s task force on antisemitism.” He began corresponding with Marc Rowan, who serves as chair of the Penn Wharton School’s board of advisors and was an early critic of both Magill and Bok. And in one early email regarding a proposed statement from the board, Fox said he would tell them “enough with the statements” and that they needed “a vote on board chair [Scott Bok] and president remaining.”
Days later, Magill and Bok resigned. A member of Penn’s School of Arts and Sciences’ board later thanked Fox for this early engagement, saying the trustees were able to oust Magill and Bok “with the governor’s nudge and with his support.”
All of this broke with precedent. Historically, Penn did not allow designees to attend board meetings in the governor’s place. The university only broke with this tradition after “many conversations between the Governor, President Magill, Board leadership, and staff.”
Fox’s influence reportedly expanded in the months that followed. Penn’s then-interim President Larry Jameson intervened to add Fox to the university’s antisemitism task force. One member of the task force told the Chronicle that Fox frequently said he was trying to represent the governor’s position. And when Fox got the impression that the task force was trying to treat him as a mere spectator, he reached out to Warren and declared that he would “not be an observer.”
Throughout all this, Fox and Warren frequently acted as a team. She connected him with Rowan in the early days of his appointment, and later connected him with the Penn Israel Public Affairs Committee. Fox and Warren were both part of an email exchange with Penn’s new board chair that sought information about the burgeoning encampment. And when Fox considered bypassing the task force on antisemitism and going directly to President Jameson to address an Instagram post by a pro-Palestine student organization, he first emailed Warren to discuss the issue with her.
Neither Penn nor Gov. Shapiro’s office deny any of this involvement. Indeed, both parties acknowledged their relationship in comments to the Chronicle, with Gov. Shapiro’s spokesperson explaining that they and Fox intervened in order to combat hate and antisemitism.
State pressure on private universities can be a dangerous backdoor to censorship
Combating unlawful antisemitic harassment is a noble goal, but when powerful public officials wield their influence to regulate speech at private universities, they’re playing a dangerous game. We saw this play out recently at Columbia University, where university leaders responded to the Trump administration’s unlawful funding freeze (purportedly a response to campus antisemitism) by capitulating to demands that will chill protected speech.
Columbia incorporated the International Holocaust Remembrance Association’s overbroad definition of antisemitism, which the Trump administration had earlier demanded, into its own definition. Later, in a settlement agreement it signed to restore government funding, Columbia required students to commit to vague goals like “equality and respect” that leave far too much room for abuse, much like the DEI statements, civility oaths, and other types of compelled speech FIRE has long opposed.
Gov. Shapiro’s intervention here is not nearly as heavy-handed, but it is still cause for concern. If the Chronicle’s reporting is accurate, then he and his office must act with greater restraint given the state’s influence over Penn, a private institution, and the potential for overreach.
The Chronicle notes that when President Jameson took office, Penn was working to reclaim $31 million in funding for its veterinary school and $1.8 million designated for the Penn Medicine Division of Infectious Diseases that had been withheld by the Pennsylvania legislature over antisemitism concerns. When faced with the loss of so much funding, many institutions, even those as wealthy as Penn, will be quick to fall in line with the state’s demands.
This backdoor approach to regulating speech, known as jawboning, is both incredibly powerful and uniquely dangerous. The First Amendment only protects against state censorship, not private regulation of speech, so when the state pressures private institutions into censoring disfavored speech, it blurs the legal line between unconstitutional state action and protected private conduct. The Supreme Court unanimously condemned this practice in NRA v. Vullo, reaffirming its 60-year-old ruling that governments cannot use third parties to censor speech they disfavor. The Court explained that this practice would allow a government official to “do indirectly what she is barred from doing directly.”
Jawboning’s chilling effects go beyond the pressured institution itself. For example, Gov. Shapiro’s close involvement at Penn incentivizes campus leaders to over-enforce their anti-discrimination and harassment policies in ways that prohibit or chill what would otherwise be lawful speech. Rather than risk state interference, many institutions will censor first and ask questions later.
None of this is to say that Penn has a sterling history when it comes to managing speech controversies on its own. In fact, Penn finished second to last in FIRE’s 2023 campus free speech rankings. But the situation is likely to get worse, not better, when the government amplifies the impulse to censor.
Transparency limitations at private universities amplify the risks of state involvement
Private universities are not subject to open-records laws like many public universities. At a public university, it is often possible to obtain records that reveal how or why the school changed a speech policy or engaged in censorship. By contrast, at a private university there is no formal way (besides the costly process of litigation) to request records that reveal the basis for such actions, including the extent to which they were the result of state pressure.
For example, after Penn’s tumultuous 2024 spring semester, the university adopted a vague and overbroad events and demonstrations policy. This policy prohibits “advocat[ing] violence” in all circumstances, even when it doesn’t cross the line into unprotected and unlawful conduct or speech, like incitement or true threats. Moreover, the policy fails to define “advocat[ing] violence.” This leaves students guessing and will lead to administrative abuse and uneven enforcement. Is the common but controversial slogan “from the river to the sea, Palestine will be free” a call for violence in Israel or a call for political change? Calling for U.S. bombing of terrorist groups like ISIS or Al-Qaeda is explicitly advocating violence. Is that prohibited? Under Penn’s new policy, that’s left to administrators to decide.
FIRE criticized this policy at the time and expressed concern that it was driven in part by viewpoint discrimination. But at a private university like Penn, there is no public records mechanism for the public to scrutinize how or why the policy was adopted. And although private universities are generally well within their rights to keep these decisions private, this arrangement becomes more troublesome when the state gets involved.
Private universities have their own free speech rights
Private universities themselves have free speech rights. A federal district court recently reiterated as much, explaining that the Trump administration violated the First Amendment when it conditioned funding to Harvard on the university “realigning its campus to better reflect a viewpoint favored by the government.”
Harvard, like Columbia and many other institutions, has been the target of a federal pressure campaign purportedly aimed at combatting antisemitism. But unlike Columbia, Harvard chose to defend its rights in court. This stand is praiseworthy, and the district court’s decision shows that private institutions stand on solid legal ground when they resist unlawful government pressure. Unfortunately, not every institution will be bold enough, or sufficiently well resourced, to fight the state in court.
State actors should protect students by enforcing the law, not by censoring protected speech
Given these dangers, Gov. Shapiro and other government actors seeking to combat discrimination must act through the proper legal channels. In the federal context, this means following the procedures laid out by Title VI and binding federal regulations. In its ruling for Harvard, the district court explained that this process is designed to ensure that recipients of federal funding “are shielded against being labeled with the ‘irreversible stigma’ of ‘discriminator’ until a certain level of agency process has determined that there was misconduct that warranted termination.” In other words, this process is a check on government overreach and all the harms that entails. The same principle applies to states trying to combat discrimination within their borders.
Enforcing valid anti-discrimination laws is important. But there’s a significant danger when state actors attempt to use the rationale of anti-discrimination to regulate speech at private universities. If left unchecked, this backdoor regulation risks turning private universities into de facto extensions of the state — undermining both academic freedom and the First Amendment itself.
