When Was Higher Education Truly a Public Good? (Glen McGhee)

Like staring at the Sun too long, that brief window in time, when higher ed was a public good, has left a permanent hole for nostalgia to leak in, becoming a massive black hole for trillions of dollars, and a blind-spot for misguided national policies and scholars alike. 

The notion that American higher education was ever a true public good is largely a myth. From the colonial colleges to the neoliberal university of today, higher education has functioned primarily as a mechanism of class reproduction and elite consolidation—with one brief, historically anomalous exception during the Cold War.

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Colonial Roots: Elite Reproduction in the New World (1636–1787)

The first American colleges—Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, and a handful of others—were founded not for the benefit of the public, but to serve narrow elite interests. Their stated missions were to train Protestant clergy and prepare the sons of wealthy white families for leadership. They operated under monopoly charters and drew funding from landowners, merchants, and slave traders.

Elihu Yale, namesake of Yale University, derived wealth from his commercial ties to the East India Company and the slave trade. Harvard’s early trustees owned enslaved people. These institutions functioned as “old boys’ clubs,” perpetuating privilege rather than promoting equality. Their educational mission was to cultivate “gentlemen fit to govern,” not citizens of a democracy.

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Private Enterprise in the Republic (1790–1860)

After independence, the number of colleges exploded—from 19 in 1790 to more than 800 by 1880—but not because of any commitment to the public good. Colleges became tools for two private interests: religious denominations seeking influence, and land speculators eager to raise property values.

Ministers often doubled as land dealers, founding small, parochial colleges to anchor towns and boost prices. State governments played a minimal role, providing funding only in times of crisis. The Supreme Court’s 1819 Dartmouth College decision enshrined institutional autonomy, shielding private colleges from state interference. Even state universities were created mainly out of interstate competition—every state needed its own to “keep up with its neighbors.”

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Gilded Age and Progressive Era: Credential Capitalism (1880–1940)

By the late 19th century, industrial capitalism had transformed higher education into a private good—something purchased for individual advancement. As family farms and small businesses disappeared, college credentials became the ticket to white-collar respectability.

Sociologist Burton Bledstein called this the “culture of professionalism.” Families invested in degrees to secure middle-class futures for their children. By the 1920s, most students attended college not to seek enlightenment, but “to get ready for a particular job.”

Elite universities such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton solidified their dominance through exclusive networks. C. Wright Mills later observed that America’s “power elite” circulated through these same institutions and their associated clubs. Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital helps explain this continuity: elite universities convert inherited privilege into certified merit, preserving hierarchy under the guise of meritocracy.

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The Morrill Acts: Public Promise, Private Gains (1862–1890)

The Morrill Act of 1862 established land-grant colleges to promote “practical education” in agriculture and engineering. While often cited as a triumph of public-minded policy, the act’s legacy is ambivalent.

Land-grant universities were built on land expropriated from Indigenous peoples—often without compensation—and the 1890 Morrill Act entrenched segregation by mandating separate institutions for Black Americans in the Jim Crow South. Even as these colleges expanded access for white working-class men, they simultaneously reinforced racial and economic hierarchies.

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Cold War Universities: The Brief Public Good (1940–1970)

For roughly thirty years, during World War II and the Cold War, American universities functioned as genuine public goods—but only because national survival seemed to depend on them.

The GI Bill opened college to millions of veterans, stabilizing the economy and expanding the middle class. Massive federal investments in research transformed universities into engines of technological and scientific innovation. The university, for a moment, was understood as a public instrument for national progress.

Yet this golden age was marred by exclusion. Black veterans were often denied GI Bill benefits, particularly in the South, where discriminatory admissions and housing policies blocked their participation. The “military-industrial-academic complex” that emerged from wartime funding created a new elite network centered on research universities like MIT, Stanford, and Berkeley.

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Neoliberal Regression: Education as a Private Commodity (1980–Present)

After 1970, the system reverted to its long-standing norm: higher education as a private good. The Cold War’s end, the tax revolt, and the rise of neoliberal ideology dismantled the postwar consensus.

Ronald Reagan led the charge—first as California governor, cutting higher education funding by 20%, then as president, slashing federal support. He argued that tuition should replace public subsidies, casting education as an individual investment rather than a social right.

Since 1980, state funding per student has fallen sharply while tuition at public universities has tripled. Students are now treated as “customers,” and universities as corporations—complete with branding departments, executive pay packages, and relentless tuition hikes.

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The Circuit of Elite Network Capital

Today, the benefits of higher education flow through a closed circuit of power that links elite universities, corporations, government agencies, and wealthy families.

1. Elite Universities consolidate wealth and prestige through research funding, patents, and endowments.

2. Corporations recruit talent and license discoveries, feeding the same institutions that produce their executives.

3. Government and Military Agencies are staffed by alumni of elite universities, reinforcing a revolving door of privilege.

4. Elite Professions—law, medicine, finance, consulting—use degrees as gatekeeping mechanisms, driving credential inflation.

5. Wealthy Families invest in elite education as a means of preserving status across generations.

What the public receives are only residual benefits—technologies and medical innovations that remain inaccessible without money or insurance.

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Elite Network Capital, Not Public Good

The idea of higher education as a public good has always been more myth than reality. For most of American history, colleges and universities have functioned as institutions of elite reproduction, not engines of democratic uplift.

Only during the extraordinary conditions of the mid-20th century—when global war and ideological conflict made mass education a national imperative—did higher education briefly align with the public interest.

Today’s universities continue to speak the language of “public good,” but their actions reveal a different truth. They serve as factories of credentialism and as nodes in an elite network that translates privilege into prestige. What masquerades as a public good is, in practice, elite network capital—a system designed not to democratize opportunity, but to manage and legitimize inequality.

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Sources:
Labaree (2017), Bledstein (1976), Bourdieu (1984, 1986), Mills (1956), Geiger (2015), Thelin (2019), and McGhee (2025).

The Grand Irony of Nursing Education and Burnout in U.S. Health Care

Nursing has long been romanticized as both a “calling” and a profession—an occupation where devotion to patients is assumed to be limitless. Nursing schools, hospitals, and media narratives often reinforce this ideal, framing the nurse as a tireless caregiver who sacrifices for the greater good. But behind the cultural image is a system that normalizes exhaustion, accepts overwork, and relies on the quiet suffering of an increasingly strained workforce.

The cultural expectation that nurses should sacrifice their own well-being has deep historical roots. Florence Nightingale’s legacy in the mid-19th century portrayed nursing as a noble vocation, tied as much to moral virtue as to medical skill. During World War I and World War II, nurses were celebrated as patriotic servants, enduring brutal conditions without complaint. By the late 20th century, popular culture reinforced the idea of the nurse as both saintly and stoic—expected to carry on through fatigue, trauma, and loss. This framing has carried into the 21st century. During the COVID-19 pandemic, nurses were lauded as “heroes” in speeches, advertisements, and nightly news coverage. But the rhetoric of heroism masked a harsher reality: nurses were sent into hospitals without adequate protective equipment, with overwhelming patient loads, and with little institutional support. The language of devotion was used as a shield against criticism, even as nurses themselves broke down from exhaustion.

The problem begins in nursing education. Students are taught the technical skills of patient care, but they are also socialized into a culture that emphasizes resilience, self-sacrifice, and “doing whatever it takes.” Clinical rotations often expose nursing students to chronic understaffing and unsafe patient loads, but instead of treating this as structural failure, students are told it is simply “the reality of nursing.” In effect, they are trained to adapt to dysfunction rather than challenge it.

Once in the workforce, the pressures intensify. Hospitals and clinics operate under tight staffing budgets, pushing nurses to manage far more patients than recommended. Shifts stretch from 12 to 16 hours, and mandatory overtime is not uncommon. Documentation demands, electronic medical record systems, and administrative oversight add layers of clerical work that take time away from direct patient care. The emotional toll of constantly navigating life-and-death decisions, combined with lack of rest, creates a perfect storm of burnout. The grand irony is that the profession celebrates devotion while neglecting the well-being of the devoted. Nurses are praised as “heroes” during crises, but when they ask for better staffing ratios, safer conditions, or mental health support, they are often dismissed as “not team players.” In non-unionized hospitals, the risks are magnified: nurses have little leverage to negotiate schedules, resist unsafe assignments, or push back against retaliation. Instead, they are expected to remain loyal, even as stress erodes their health and shortens their careers.

Recent years have shown that nurses are increasingly unwilling to accept this reality. In Oregon in 2025, nearly 5,000 unionized nurses, physicians, and midwives staged the largest health care worker strike in the state’s history, demanding higher wages, better staffing levels, and workload adjustments that reflect patient severity rather than just patient numbers. After six weeks, they secured a contract with substantial pay raises, penalty pay for missed breaks, and staffing reforms. In New Orleans, nurses at University Medical Center have launched repeated strikes as negotiations stall, citing unsafe staffing that puts both their health and their patients at risk. These actions are not isolated. In 2022, approximately 15,000 Minnesota nurses launched the largest private-sector nurses’ strike in U.S. history, and since 2020 the number of nurse strikes nationwide has more than tripled.

Alongside strikes, nurses are pushing for legislative solutions. At the federal level, the Nurse Staffing Standards for Hospital Patient Safety and Quality Care Act has been introduced, which would mandate minimum nurse-to-patient ratios and provide whistleblower protections. In New York, the Safe Staffing for Hospital Care Act seeks to set legally enforceable staffing levels and ban most mandatory overtime. Even California, long considered a leader in nurse staffing ratios, has faced crises in psychiatric hospitals so severe that Governor Gavin Newsom introduced emergency rules to address chronic understaffing linked to patient harm. Enforcement remains uneven, however. At Albany Medical Center in New York, chronic understaffing violations led to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fines, a reminder that without strong oversight, even well-crafted laws can be ignored.

The United States’ piecemeal and adversarial approach contrasts sharply with other countries. In Canada, provinces like British Columbia have legislated nurse-to-patient ratios similar to those in California, and in Quebec, unions won agreements that legally cap workloads for certain units. In the United Kingdom, the National Health Service has long recognized safe staffing as a matter of public accountability, and while austerity policies have strained the system, England, Wales, and Scotland all employ government-set nurse-to-patient standards to protect both patients and staff. Nordic countries go further, with Sweden and Norway integrating nurse well-being into health policy; short shifts, strong union protections, and publicly funded healthcare systems reduce the risk of burnout by design. While no system is perfect, these models show that burnout is not inevitable—it is a political and policy choice.

Union presence consistently makes a difference. Studies show that unionized nurses are more successful at securing safe staffing ratios, resisting exploitative scheduling, and advocating for patient safety. But unionization rates in nursing remain uneven, and in many states nurses are discouraged or even legally restricted from organizing. Without collective power, individual nurses are forced to rely on personal endurance, which is precisely what the system counts on.

The outcome is devastating not only for nurses but for patients. Burnout leads to higher turnover, staffing shortages, and medical errors—all while nursing schools continue to churn out new graduates to replace those driven from the profession. It is a cycle sustained by institutional denial and the myth of infinite devotion.

If U.S. higher education is serious about preparing nurses for the future, nursing programs must move beyond the rhetoric of sacrifice. They need to teach students not only how to care for patients but also how to advocate for themselves and their colleagues. They need to expose the structural causes of burnout and prepare nurses to demand better conditions, not simply endure them. Until then, the irony remains: a profession that celebrates care while sacrificing its caregivers.

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Sources

• American Nurses Association (ANA). “Workplace Stress & Burnout.” ANA Enterprise, 2023.

• National Nurses United. Nursing Staffing Crisis in the United States, 2022.

• Bae, S. “Nurse Staffing and Patient Outcomes: A Literature Review.” Nursing Outlook, Vol. 64, No. 3 (2016): 322-333.

• Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Union Members Summary.” U.S. Department of Labor, 2024.

• Shah, M.K., Gandrakota, N., Cimiotti, J.P., Ghose, N., Moore, M., Ali, M.K. “Prevalence of and Factors Associated With Nurse Burnout in the US.” JAMA Network Open, Vol. 4, No. 2 (2021): e2036469.

• Nelson, Sioban. Say Little, Do Much: Nursing, Nuns, and Hospitals in the Nineteenth Century. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001.

• Kalisch, Philip A. & Kalisch, Beatrice J. The Advance of American Nursing. Little, Brown, 1986.

• Oregon Capital Chronicle, “Governor Kotek Criticizes Providence Over Largest Strike of Health Care Workers in State History,” January 2025.

• Associated Press, “Oregon Health Care Strike Ends After Six Weeks,” February 2025.

• National Nurses United, “New Orleans Nurses Deliver Notice for Third Strike at UMC,” 2025.

• NurseTogether, “Nurse Strikes: An Increasing Trend in the U.S.,” 2024.

• New York State Senate Bill S4003, “Safe Staffing for Hospital Care Act,” 2025.

• San Francisco Chronicle, “Newsom Imposes Emergency Staffing Rules at State Psychiatric Hospitals,” 2025.

• Times Union, “Editorial: Hospital’s Staffing Violations Show Need for Enforcement,” 2025.

• Oulton, J.A. “The Global Nursing Shortage: An Overview of Issues and Actions.” Policy, Politics, & Nursing Practice, Vol. 7, No. 3 (2006): 34S–39S.

• Rafferty, Anne Marie et al. “Outcomes of Variation in Hospital Nurse Staffing in English Hospitals.” BMJ Quality & Safety, 2007.

• Aiken, Linda H. et al. “Nurse Staffing and Education and Hospital Mortality in Nine European Countries.” The Lancet, Vol. 383, No. 9931 (2014): 1824–1830.

Charlie Kirk, Milo Yiannopoulos, and the Weaponization of Campus Free Speech

In the last decade, Charlie Kirk and Milo Yiannopoulos emerged as two of the most controversial figures on U.S. campuses. Though different in demeanor, both tapped into a potent formula: using universities as battlegrounds in the culture wars, staging spectacles that blurred the line between political activism, media provocation, and profit.

Yiannopoulos, a former Breitbart editor, built his American notoriety through his 2016–2017 campus speaking tour. His brand was openly flamboyant, camp, and cruel—delighting his fans with ridicule of feminists, Muslims, and LGBTQ activists while enraging opponents. The height of his career came at the University of California, Berkeley, in February 2017, when protests against his scheduled speech escalated into property damage, a police crackdown, and national media coverage. Berkeley—the symbolic birthplace of the 1960s Free Speech Movement—was suddenly cast as the stage for a right-wing provocation about free expression.

But the fallout from Yiannopoulos’s personal life quickly undercut his momentum. Video surfaced of him appearing to condone sexual relationships between older men and boys, remarks he later attempted to reframe as jokes or personal history. The scandal cost him a book deal with Simon & Schuster, led to his resignation from Breitbart, and triggered a cascade of canceled appearances. His sexual provocations, once a source of his appeal, became his undoing in mainstream conservative circles.

Charlie Kirk, meanwhile, chose a steadier path. With Turning Point USA, founded in 2012, he avoided Yiannopoulos’s sexual flamboyance and leaned instead on organization-building, donor cultivation, and a veneer of respectability. TPUSA planted chapters across hundreds of campuses, launched the Professor Watchlist, and turned campus protests into proof of “leftist intolerance.” If Yiannopoulos was the shock jock of campus conservatism, Kirk became its institution-builder.

Yet the connection between them remains. Both recognized the utility of outrage—that protests and cancellations could be reframed as censorship, and that universities could be cast as ideological enemies. Berkeley provided the prototype: a riot in defense of inclusivity was spun into evidence of liberal suppression, fueling conservative mobilization and fundraising.

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Donors, Dark Money, and the Business of Outrage

Neither Yiannopoulos nor Kirk could have sustained their visibility without deep-pocketed benefactors and ideological patrons.

Yiannopoulos’s rise was closely tied to the Mercer family, the billionaire backers of Breitbart News who also helped fund Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign. Their patronage gave him a platform at Breitbart and the resources to stage his “Dangerous Faggot Tour.” When the pedophilia scandal erupted, the Mercers swiftly cut ties, leaving him adrift without institutional protection.

Kirk’s Turning Point USA followed a different trajectory, courting a wide network of wealthy conservative donors. According to IRS filings and investigative reports, TPUSA has received millions from the Koch network, Illinois Republican governor Bruce Rauner’s family, and donors linked to the DeVos family. By 2020, TPUSA’s budget topped $30 million annually, making it a financial juggernaut in the campus culture wars. The group’s lavish conferences, slick marketing, and constant media presence depended heavily on this donor pipeline.

These financial networks reveal that both Kirk and Yiannopoulos were never simply “grassroots” activists. They were, in fact, products of elite funding streams, crafted and sustained by billionaire patrons seeking cultural leverage. For universities, that means student protests were never just about clashing ideologies—they were also responses to well-financed operations designed to destabilize higher education as an institution and mobilize a generation of voters.

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Kirk’s later alignment with Christian nationalism and the MAGA movement extended his influence far beyond campus politics. His assassination in September 2025 has already created a martyrdom narrative for the right, just as Yiannopoulos’s clashes at Berkeley created symbolic victories, even as his personal scandals consumed him.

For higher education, the legacies of Kirk and Yiannopoulos are instructive. Universities remain prime targets for political entrepreneurs who thrive on outrage, whether their methods are flamboyant and sexualized or organizational and ideological. The question for higher education is not whether these figures will return—others surely will—but whether institutions can resist being drawn, again and again, into spectacles that erode the very idea of the university as a space for learning and dialogue.

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Sources

• Wikipedia contributors. “Charlie Kirk.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Kirk

• Wikipedia contributors. “Milo Yiannopoulos.” Wikipedia. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milo_Yiannopoulos

• Reuters. “What to know about the case against Tyler Robinson, accused of killing Charlie Kirk.” September 16, 2025. Link

• The Guardian. “Milo Yiannopoulos: the shallow actor with a bad guy act.” February 21, 2017. https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/feb/21/milo-yiannopoulos-rise-and-fall-shallow-actor-bad-guy-hate-speech

• CNN. “Milo Yiannopoulos resigns from Breitbart after comments on pedophilia.” February 21, 2017. https://www.cnn.com/2017/02/21/politics/milo-yiannopoulos-resigns-breitbart

• NPR. “Violent Protests Shut Down Milo Yiannopoulos Event At UC Berkeley.” February 2, 2017. https://www.npr.org/2017/02/02/512956833/violent-protests-shut-down-milo-yiannopoulos-event-at-uc-berkeley

• OpenSecrets. “Turning Point USA.” https://www.opensecrets.org/orgs/turning-point-usa/summary?id=D000064422

• New York Times. “The Mercers and the Rise of the Alt-Right.” March 2017. https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/04/us/politics/mercers.html

Buyer Beware: Why All Schools and Majors Carry Risk — and Why HBCUs Deserve Better

For decades, American students have been told that higher education is the surest ticket to success. Families invest years of savings—or mountains of debt—into a degree, believing it will guarantee upward mobility. But the reality of U.S. higher education in 2025 is far more complex and far less secure. Buyer beware applies not only to shady for-profits or obscure degree programs, but to all schools and all majors.

And within this uneven playing field, Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) face a double bind: undervalued by mainstream rankings and underfunded by the very systems that claim to promote equity.

The Myth of the Golden Ticket

The dominant narrative says: “Go to college, pick the right major, and you’ll be fine.” Politicians repeat it. Universities market it. Parents cling to it. But the promise of a guaranteed return on investment has eroded.

• Student loan debt now exceeds $1.7 trillion.

• Nearly 40% of college graduates work in jobs that don’t require a degree, according to the Federal Reserve.

• Wages for many majors have stagnated, while housing, healthcare, and childcare costs soar.

Even high-demand majors like computer science or nursing come with risks: market saturation, burnout, and outsourcing.

No School Is Immune

Elite schools tout prestige, but that does not insulate graduates from financial stress. Many Ivy League students leave with heavy debt burdens, particularly those without family wealth. Alumni networks can open doors, but they cannot protect against systemic shocks like housing bubbles, pandemics, or global financial crises.

Regional public universities and community colleges provide affordable pathways, but decades of state disinvestment have left many underfunded. For-profits, meanwhile, continue to lure vulnerable students with aggressive marketing and dubious job-placement claims.

And HBCUs—often with smaller endowments and student populations that are more likely to be first-generation and lower-income—have been penalized by these very dynamics, despite their outsized impact.

Every Major Carries Risk

STEM fields are not immune to volatility. Tech layoffs in 2023–2024 showed that even software engineers can face sudden unemployment. Nursing and teaching, often called “recession-proof,” are plagued with overwork, poor pay, and high attrition.

Meanwhile, students in the arts, humanities, and social sciences face the stigma of “low ROI” degrees, even though their fields foster critical thinking, creativity, and civic engagement—the very qualities society desperately needs.

The truth is that all majors are shaped by larger economic forces—automation, globalization, financial speculation, climate disruption—that no individual student can control.

The HBCU Paradox

While all students must be cautious about the promises of higher ed, HBCUs offer something mainstream rankings often ignore: real impact in social mobility and professional pipelines.

• According to the National Science Foundation, nearly 25% of African American graduates with STEM bachelor’s degrees earned them at HBCUs.

• More than half of African American doctors and lawyers received their undergraduate degrees at HBCUs.

• A 2021 Brookings study concluded that HBCUs are “engines of upward mobility,” moving low-income students into higher income brackets at rates equal to or exceeding elite institutions.

Yet, systems like U.S. News & World Report, Forbes, QS, and Times Higher Education continue to underrate HBCUs because their metrics reward institutional wealth and exclusivity, not educational value.

By contrast, Washington Monthly, which measures social mobility, research benefiting society, and community service, consistently ranks HBCUs higher. Their success under these fairer metrics demonstrates how skewed the mainstream rankings truly are.

What Prospective Students Should Ask

Whether applying to an Ivy League university, a regional public, a for-profit, or an HBCU, students should treat college as a major financial investment. That means asking hard questions:

• What is the total cost of attendance after aid?

• What percentage of graduates find full-time work in their field within two years?

• What is the median debt load of graduates—and the median salary five and ten years after?

• What percentage of students drop out before graduating?

• How transparent is the school about these outcomes?

A System in Need of Reform

Ultimately, the “buyer beware” crisis in higher education is not about students making poor choices. It is about a system that pushes risk onto individuals while rewarding wealth and privilege.

HBCUs prove that institutions with fewer resources can deliver extraordinary results for students and society. But until rankings, funding formulas, and public policy recognize that value, students across the board will continue to shoulder the risks of a speculative credential market.

In today’s higher education economy, buyer beware applies to all schools and all majors—but students and society alike would be better served if we valued institutions, like HBCUs, that truly deliver on the promise of access and upward mobility.

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Sources:

• Federal Reserve Bank of New York (2023). Labor Market Outcomes of College Graduates.

• Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce (2022). ROI of College Majors.

• National Center for Education Statistics (2024). Student Loan Debt and Repayment.

• Brookings Institution (2021). The Economic Mobility of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

• UNCF (2020). HBCUs Make America Strong: The Positive Economic Impact of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

• Washington Monthly (2024). National University Rankings.

• National Science Foundation (2022). Women, Minorities, and Persons with Disabilities in Science and Engineering.

Truth as Therapy for Higher Education

Anosognosia is the inability to recognize one’s own illness or disability. In higher education, it describes the chronic denial of a system in crisis—one that refuses to admit its own collapse.

For decades, U.S. higher education has been sold as the great equalizer. The story was simple: borrow, study, graduate, succeed. But the data show the opposite. What we are witnessing is a long college meltdown, masked by denial at the highest levels of government, university administrations, and Wall Street.

The Debt Trap

• Outstanding student loan debt now exceeds $1.77 trillion, burdening more than 43 million Americans.

• Nearly 20 percent of borrowers are in default or serious delinquency.

• Black borrowers, especially Black women, carry the heaviest burdens and are least likely to see upward mobility from their degrees.

• Many in income-driven repayment programs will never pay off principal, living in a permanent state of debt peonage.

Universities and policymakers insist debt is an “investment.” But for millions, it is a generational shackle.

The Exploited Faculty

• More than 70 percent of college instructors are contingent.

• Adjuncts often earn less than $3,500 per course, with no healthcare, no retirement, and no security.

• Roughly one in four adjuncts relies on public assistance.

Universities still market themselves as communities of scholars. In reality, they operate on the same exploitative labor practices as Uber or Amazon.

The Employment Mismatch

• Four in ten recent grads work in jobs that don’t require a degree.

• One-third of graduates say their work is unrelated to their major.

• Median real wages for college graduates have been flat for 25 years.

Still, higher ed pushes “lifelong learning” credentials, turning underemployment into a new revenue stream.

Prestige as Denial

• At Ivy League universities, 40 percent of students come from the top 5 percent of households.

• Fewer than 5 percent come from the bottom fifth.

• Endowments soar—Harvard’s sits at $50 billion—but tuition relief and faculty wages barely budge.

This is not mobility. It is a hereditary elite cloaked in the language of meritocracy.

Climate Contradictions

• Universities promote sustainability but invest billions in fossil fuels.

• Campus expansion and luxury amenities drive up emissions, water use, and labor exploitation.

Even here, anosognosia reigns: branding over reality.

The Meltdown Denied

The college meltdown has been unfolding for more than a decade:

• Small liberal arts colleges shuttering.

• Regional publics bleeding enrollments.

• For-profits morphing into “nonprofits” while still funneling money to investors.

• State funding eroded, shifting the cost to students and families.

But instead of confronting the collapse, higher ed leaders rely on rhetoric: “innovation,” “resilience,” “access.” Like anosognosia, denial itself becomes survival.

The Human Cost

The denial is not harmless. It is measured in:

• The indebted graduate delaying family formation and homeownership.

• The adjunct commuting across counties to string together courses while living below the poverty line.

• The working-class family betting their savings on a degree that will not deliver mobility.

The meltdown is here. Higher education’s inability—or refusal—to admit it ensures the damage will deepen.

Truth and Healing 

Anosognosia prevents healing because it prevents recognition of the problem. U.S. higher education cannot admit its own disease, so it cannot begin recovery. Until it does, students, families, and workers will bear the costs of a system in denial.

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Sources

• Federal Reserve Bank of New York, Quarterly Report on Household Debt and Credit (2025)

• National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), Digest of Education Statistics (2023)

• American Association of University Professors (AAUP), Annual Report on the Economic Status of the Profession (2024)

• Pew Research Center, The Rising Cost of Not Going to College (2023 update)

• The Century Foundation, Adjunct Project (2022)

• Chetty et al., Mobility Report Cards: The Role of Colleges in Intergenerational Mobility (2017, with updates)

• IPEDS (Integrated Postsecondary Education Data System), U.S. Department of Education

• Harvard Management Company, Endowment Report (2024)

• Higher Education Inquirer, College Meltdown archive (2018–2025)

Does China Need US Universities for Its Elite Students?

For decades, U.S. universities have served as the finishing school for China’s elite. Children of Communist Party officials, wealthy businesspeople, and top scientists have often ended up at Harvard, Yale, Stanford, or the Ivy League, polishing their English and acquiring the cultural capital necessary for global finance, diplomacy, and technology. At the same time, thousands of middle-class Chinese families have made enormous financial sacrifices to send their children abroad, betting on an American degree as a ticket to upward mobility.

But the question today is whether China still needs U.S. universities to educate its elite.

Shifting Global Power Dynamics

The rise of China’s own research universities has complicated the old narrative. Institutions such as Tsinghua University and Peking University now rank among the top in the world in science, engineering, and AI research. China produces more STEM graduates annually than any other country, and its funding for science and technology rivals that of the U.S. While U.S. universities still command prestige, their monopoly on global academic excellence has weakened.

Politics and National Security

Relations between Washington and Beijing have soured, and U.S. policymakers increasingly view Chinese students as potential security risks. Visa restrictions on STEM fields, FBI investigations into Chinese scholars, and rhetoric about intellectual property theft have chilled the academic exchange. For Chinese elites, the risks of having children in the U.S. — politically and reputationally — are higher than in the 1990s or 2000s.

Yet at the same time, political figures like Donald Trump have openly courted the financial benefits of Chinese enrollment. Trump has said that China can send 600,000 students to the United States — a number that would far exceed current levels — underscoring the contradiction between security anxieties and the revenue-driven priorities of American higher education.

Meanwhile, China has invested heavily in partnerships with Europe, Singapore, and even African nations to build alternative networks of elite education. For some families, sending a child to Oxford or ETH Zurich carries less geopolitical baggage than Harvard or MIT.

The Prestige Factor

Yet prestige is not easily replicated. An Ivy League degree still carries enormous weight, especially in global finance, law, and diplomacy. American universities remain unmatched in their ability to offer “soft power” — connections, cultural fluency, and credibility in international markets. For Chinese elites with ambitions beyond national borders, U.S. universities still provide networking opportunities that cannot be fully duplicated in Beijing, Shanghai, or Shenzhen.

China’s Billionaires Build Private Universities to Challenge Stanford

In recent years, a number of China’s wealthiest business leaders have begun pouring billions into the creation of new private universities. Their ambitions are not modest: to build research institutions that can compete directly with the world’s most elite schools—Stanford, MIT, Oxford, and Harvard.

At first glance, such aspirations sound quixotic. Building a university brand that rivals Stanford typically takes a century of reputation, research, and networking. Yet, in China, examples already exist to show that rapid ascent is possible.

Westlake and Geely as Proof-of-Concept

Westlake University, founded in Hangzhou just seven years ago by leading biologists, is already outperforming global top 100 schools in specific fields, including the University of Sydney and the University of North Carolina. Its model—deep pockets, aggressive recruitment of top scientists, and a narrow focus on high-impact fields—demonstrates that prestige can be manufactured in years rather than generations.

Geely Automotive Group, meanwhile, established its own university to train engineers, feeding talent directly into one of the world’s largest car manufacturers. Today, Geely ranks among the ten biggest automakers worldwide, with its university playing a central role in workforce development.

A Stanford Model with Chinese Characteristics

The parallel to Stanford is intentional. Stanford thrived not only because of academic excellence but because it was embedded in Silicon Valley, benefiting from venture capital, defense contracts, and a culture of entrepreneurship. China’s industrialists are attempting something similar: building universities adjacent to industrial clusters and pairing them with massive R&D investments.

For billionaires, these institutions serve dual purposes: they act as innovation engines and as political insurance policies. In an era when Beijing has cracked down on tech moguls and capital excesses, aligning one’s fortune with education and national advancement offers a form of protection.

Political Constraints and Academic Freedom

The long-term question is whether these billionaire-founded institutions can sustain the openness and intellectual risk-taking that has characterized Stanford and MIT. While China’s system excels in applied sciences and technology, political controls may limit innovation in social sciences and fields that thrive on dissent, debate, and unconventional thinking.

Still, if the aim is dominance in biotech, engineering, AI, and materials science, the model may succeed. In fact, Westlake’s rapid climb already suggests mid-tier Western universities could soon find themselves leapfrogged by Chinese institutions less than a decade old.

A Changing Balance

So, does China need U.S. universities for its elite? The answer is complicated.

• Yes, for families who want global reach, especially in finance, technology entrepreneurship, and diplomacy. The cultural capital of an American education still matters.

• No, for families satisfied with domestic prestige and security. China’s own universities — both traditional public institutions and billionaire-backed ventures — increasingly provide sufficient training for leadership roles.

What is clear is that U.S. universities can no longer assume a steady flow of Chinese elite students. The market has shifted, the politics have hardened, and the prestige gap has narrowed. For American higher education, already struggling with enrollment cliffs and financial strain, this shift could have serious consequences.

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Sources:

• Institute of International Education, Open Doors Report

• Center for Security and Emerging Technology (CSET), “Chinese STEM Students in the U.S.”

• Times Higher Education World University Rankings

• South China Morning Post, Why China’s super-rich are spending billions to set up universities

• Guangming Daily, Hello, Westlake University

• CGTN, Westlake University established in Hangzhou

• Geely Automotive Group, Overview

• KE Press Global, China's Billionaires Are Building Universities to Drive Innovation and Stay Politically Favorable

Campus Cops, A Critical History

Campus policing in the United States has a long and complicated history, one that cannot be understood apart from the larger culture of violence in the nation. Colleges and universities, far from being sanctuaries of peace, have mirrored the broader society’s struggles with crime, inequality, and abuse of power. The development of campus police forces is both a symptom of these realities and a contributor to them.

From Watchmen to Armed Police

In the early 20th century, many colleges relied on night watchmen or unarmed security guards to keep order. Their duties were limited: locking buildings, checking IDs, and responding to minor incidents. But as campuses expanded in size and complexity—particularly after the GI Bill opened higher education to millions—colleges began to formalize security forces. By the 1960s and 1970s, during an era of political unrest and rising crime rates, many institutions established their own sworn police departments with full arrest powers.

The rationale was simple: the surrounding society was becoming more violent, and colleges were not immune. Campus shootings, from the University of Texas tower massacre in 1966 to Virginia Tech in 2007, underscored the vulnerability of universities to extreme violence. Administrators and legislators justified campus policing as a necessary protection against a culture of guns, crime, and fear.

The Expansion of Campus Policing

Today, more than 90 percent of U.S. colleges and universities with 2,500 or more students have some form of armed campus police. Many operate as fully accredited police departments, indistinguishable from municipal counterparts. They are tasked with preventing theft, responding to assaults, and increasingly, preparing for mass shootings. This expansion reflects the broader American decision to deal with social breakdown through policing and incarceration rather than through prevention, education, or healthcare.

Yet the rise of campus police also brings deep contradictions. If colleges are supposed to be places of learning and community, what does it mean that they are patrolled by officers trained in the same punitive logics as city police? What does it say about the United States that students—especially students of color—often feel surveilled rather than protected?

Campus Coverups and the Protection of Institutions

Beyond concerns about over-policing, there is another side to the story: under-policing and coverups. Colleges have long been criticized for minimizing reports of sexual assault, hazing, hate crimes, and other misconduct in order to protect their reputations. Title IX litigation, Department of Education investigations, and journalism have revealed systemic patterns of universities failing to report crimes or discouraging survivors from coming forward.

Campus police departments have sometimes been complicit in these coverups. Because they report to university administrations rather than independent city governments, their accountability is compromised. The incentive to “keep the numbers down” and maintain the appearance of a safe, prestigious campus can lead to the suppression of reports. Survivors of sexual violence often describe being dismissed, ignored, or retraumatized by campus police who appeared more concerned about institutional liability than student well-being.

The Contradictions of Campus Safety

The dual role of campus police—protecting students from external dangers while shielding institutions from internal accountability—illustrates the contradictions of higher education in a violent society. Universities are expected to provide safety in a nation awash with firearms, misogyny, racism, and economic desperation. But instead of challenging these conditions, many campuses rely on armed policing, surveillance technologies, and public relations strategies.

The result is a paradox: campuses are policed as if they are dangerous cities, yet when crimes happen within their walls, especially those involving sexual violence or elite fraternities and athletes, those same crimes are often hidden from public view.

Toward a Different Model of Safety

Critics argue that true campus safety requires moving beyond reliance on police alone. Investments in mental health services, consent education, community accountability processes, and structural reforms to address gender violence and racial inequities are essential. Some advocates push for independent oversight of campus police, ensuring they are accountable not just to administrators but to students, staff, and the broader public.

If campus policing has grown because America has normalized violence, then reimagining campus safety requires confronting the roots of that violence. As long as universities remain more committed to protecting their brands than their students, campus cops will embody the contradictions of American higher education—part shield, part coverup, and part reflection of a society unable to address its deeper wounds.

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Sources

• Sloan, John J. and Fisher, Bonnie S. The Dark Side of the Ivory Tower: Campus Crime as a Social Problem. Cambridge University Press, 2011.

• Karjane, Heather M., Fisher, Bonnie S., and Cullen, Francis T. Campus Sexual Assault: How America’s Institutions of Higher Education Respond. National Institute of Justice, 2002.

• U.S. Department of Education, Clery Act Reports.

• Armstrong, Elizabeth A. and Hamilton, Laura. Paying for the Party: How College Maintains Inequality. Harvard University Press, 2013.

Judge Rules on Harvard Case: When We Fight, WE WIN! (Todd Wolfson, AAUP)

Last night, we got great news: We WON our lawsuit challenging the Trump’s administration’s attempt to dismantle research and critical thought at Harvard University.  

Please join us in our fight for higher education and research.

A federal judge agreed with us and with the Harvard administration that the Trump administration violated the Constitution, the Civil Rights Act, and the Administrative Procedures Act by demanding that Harvard restrict speech and restructure core operations or else face the cancellation of billions in federal funding for the university and its affiliated hospital.

In her ruling, US District Judge Allison Burroughs found that the administration’s actions, which included freezing and canceling more than $2 billion in research grants, violated the First Amendment rights of Harvard and of Harvard’s faculty and amounted to “retaliation, unconstitutional conditions, and unconstitutional coercion.” Her ruling vacates the government’s funding freeze and permanently blocks it from using similar reasoning to deny grants to Harvard in the future.

In April, the national AAUP and our Harvard chapter, alongside the United Auto Workers, filed the lawsuit seeking to stop the Trump administration’s attack on Harvard. Pressured by our filing, the Harvard administration subsequently filed suit and the cases were linked.

Many of Judge Burroughs’s findings responded primarily to the claims of AAUP members, particularly about harms to research, First Amendment violations, and attacks on academic freedom.

This is a huge win not just for AAUP members at Harvard but for all of American higher education, for science, and for free and critical thought in this country. The Trump administration’s attempts to restrict speech and cripple lifesaving research are widespread, affecting every state and type of institution in the nation. As this victory shows, Trump’s war on higher education is unconstitutional. We will continue to stand up and fight back against these attempts to dismantle our universities, terrify students and faculty, and punish hospitals and scientific research for not bowing to authoritarianism. And we will win.

We could not have done it without the leadership, hard work, and testimony of AAUP members. We need you in this fight with us too. Please join now.

In solidarity,

Todd Wolfson, AAUP President

The Academic Job Search Season: Stress, Survival, and Structural Problems

Every fall, the job search season kicks into high gear. For many academics—graduate students, contingent faculty, and even mid-career professionals—the process is exhausting. Updating résumés, scouring job boards, crafting cover letters, and collecting references has become a ritual of stress. Career guides and webinars offer tips, but they rarely address the structural issues that make academic job hunting such a fraught experience.

The Chronicle of Higher Education is marketing its own “September Collection” of advice: five free articles on managing applications, jump-starting an industry job search, applying outside academe, and coping with the increasingly common “tandem job search” faced by Ph.D. couples. On the surface, this content promises guidance and expert insight. Yet beneath the tips lies a deeper reality: academia’s labor market is in crisis.

The Disappearing Job Market

Managing job applications has become an overwhelming task because the number of secure academic positions has shrunk dramatically. Tenure-track lines are scarce, and adjunctification has normalized poverty wages and instability for tens of thousands of scholars. According to the American Association of University Professors (AAUP), three out of four faculty positions are now contingent—part-time, non-tenure-track, or adjunct. Many of these jobs pay less than minimum wage once preparation, grading, and commuting are factored in.

Meanwhile, universities continue to produce Ph.D.s at record levels, ensuring a glut of qualified applicants for every rare tenure-track posting. The advice to “manage your applications” often masks this reality: candidates are competing for scraps in a system that treats intellectual labor as disposable.

Beyond the Ivory Tower: Exits and Exile

Several of the Chronicle’s highlighted articles focus on leaving academia altogether. Job seekers are told how to “jump-start” industry careers or apply for jobs “outside of academe.” This is not just pragmatic advice—it reflects a broader shift.

Universities have become credential mills, producing far more advanced degree holders than the system can absorb. In 2022, the U.S. awarded over 55,000 doctoral degrees—yet fewer than 10,000 tenure-track positions opened nationwide. The so-called “two-body problem” for dual-academic couples has become a euphemism for professional exile: one or both partners must give up their academic careers or live apart indefinitely.

Debt and Desperation

The situation is compounded by the student debt crisis, which affects graduate students as well as undergraduates. Graduate borrowing accounts for 40% of all federal student loan debt, often exceeding $100,000 for Ph.D.s in the humanities and social sciences. Job seekers enter the market already burdened with debt, only to find themselves competing for contingent jobs that pay less than $25,000 a year.

In contrast, BRICS countries such as China are producing graduates without debt, often tuition-free, and with state-backed pathways into science, engineering, and medical professions. The U.S. system, by comparison, looks less like a ladder of opportunity and more like a trap of financial servitude.

The Role of Billionaires

Adding insult to injury, billionaire donors and corporate interests increasingly shape U.S. higher education. From the Koch network funding business and policy schools, to tech billionaires investing in “disruptive” ed-tech, private wealth dictates academic priorities. The result is a university system aligned with corporate needs—STEM fields for industry pipelines, financialized research, and administrative expansion—while the humanities and social sciences are starved of funding.

Job seekers are told to adapt to this market logic. Attend career fairs. Build transferable skills. Manage stress. But the real dysfunction lies in the fact that billionaires and trustees wield more power over universities than faculty and students combined.

From Individual Struggle to Collective Fight

The Chronicle’s Fall Virtual Career Fair, scheduled for October 15th, is framed as a solution: networking, résumé reviews, stress management. Yet these offerings treat the problem as one of individual navigation, not systemic collapse.

If there is to be resistance, it will not come from résumé workshops or LinkedIn polls about “workplace dysfunction.” It will come from collective struggle: graduate unions, adjunct organizing, debt strikes, and alliances across borders. Just as workers once had to fight internationally against the globalized forces of capital, academic workers will need to see their struggle as more than seasonal job stress.

The job search season is not just a stressful ritual—it is a symptom of a broken, financialized system. For many, the harsh truth is this: the problem isn’t your résumé. It’s the university itself.

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Sources

• American Association of University Professors (AAUP), The Annual Report on the Economic Status of the Profession, 2022–23

• National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), Doctor’s Degrees Conferred by Post-Secondary Institutions

• Brookings Institution, Graduate Student Debt: Dimensions and Policy Implications, 2020

• Coalition on the Academic Workforce, A Portrait of Part-Time Faculty Members, 2012

• The Chronicle of Higher Education, Career Resources and Virtual Fairs, 2024

• Inside Higher Ed, Adjuncts and the Academic Labor Crisis

Every Day Should Be Labor Day

As Americans celebrate Labor Day, the traditional holiday honoring workers, it is worth asking a blunt question: why do we set aside only one day to recognize the people who keep this country running? For the majority of working-class Americans, labor is not a seasonal event—it is a daily struggle. And yet, political and economic systems continue to undervalue, underpay, and exploit the very workforce that sustains them.

The numbers are stark. The U.S. Department of Labor reports that over 100 million Americans are part of the labor force. Yet median wages have barely budged in decades, while the top 1% of earners have seen their wealth multiply. In higher education, adjunct professors often earn less than $30,000 a year while carrying the teaching load of full-time faculty, and the majority of college graduates leave school with over $30,000 in student loan debt, only to find themselves in jobs that fail to utilize their skills or provide financial security.

The “gig economy” promised flexibility and empowerment, but in reality it has created precarious work with no benefits, no sick leave, and few protections. Companies like Amazon, Uber, and DoorDash rely on a workforce that bears nearly all the risk while executives reap outsized rewards. The same dynamic extends to knowledge industries: research assistants, graduate students, and postdocs often perform essential labor for universities without fair compensation, health care, or job security.

Labor Day should not simply celebrate the ideal of work—it should spotlight injustice. It should remind policymakers, university administrators, and corporate leaders that the human cost of economic growth is real and rising. Childcare costs, rent, healthcare premiums, and student debt are not abstract numbers—they are barriers that prevent workers from achieving economic stability or pursuing meaningful lives outside of work.

Across the country, workers are pushing back. Teachers strike to demand fair pay and better conditions. Nurses, long on the frontlines of a pandemic, advocate for safer staffing levels and respect. Fast-food workers, warehouse employees, and adjunct faculty organize for recognition and dignity. These struggles reveal a truth that is too often ignored: every worker deserves more than symbolic recognition; they deserve economic justice, security, and respect every single day of the year.

For policymakers, higher education leaders, and business executives, the lesson is clear: labor should not be celebrated just once a year. Fair wages, comprehensive benefits, and meaningful protections should be the baseline for every workplace. The fight for workers’ rights is ongoing, and the consequences of ignoring it are profound—not just for individual families, but for the health of the American economy itself.

This Labor Day, Americans should reflect on a simple truth: the nation thrives not because of CEOs, venture capitalists, or administrators, but because millions of people show up to work every day under conditions that are far from ideal. If respect for labor is genuine, it cannot be confined to a single Monday in September. Every day should be Labor Day.

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Sources:

• U.S. Department of Labor, Labor Force Statistics

• Federal Reserve, Report on the Economic Well-Being of U.S. Households

• National Center for Education Statistics, Adjunct Faculty Data

• Economic Policy Institute, The State of American Wages

• Brookings Institution, Gig Economy and Worker Precarity

Climate Denial and Conservative Amnesia: A Letter to Charlie Kirk and TPUSA

Charlie Kirk and Turning Point USA have built an empire of outrage—rallying young conservatives on college campuses, feeding them culture war talking points, and mocking science in the name of “free thinking.” At the top of their hit list? Climate change. According to TPUSA, man-made global warming is a hoax, a leftist ploy to expand government, or simply not worth worrying about. But this isn’t rebellion—it’s willful ignorance. And worse, it’s a betrayal of the conservative legacy of environmental stewardship.

Let’s be clear: man-made climate change is real. It is measurable, observable, and already having devastating consequences across the planet. The science is not debatable. According to NASA and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, Earth’s average surface temperature has risen more than 2 degrees Fahrenheit since the late 19th century—largely driven by carbon emissions from human activities. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, which aggregates peer-reviewed science from around the world, states unequivocally that “human influence has warmed the atmosphere, ocean and land.”

If Charlie Kirk and TPUSA were interested in truth, they wouldn’t be spreading climate denial. They’d be listening to the 97 percent of actively publishing climate scientists who confirm that this warming is caused by humans. They’d look to the Department of Defense, which recognizes climate change as a national security threat. They’d pay attention to farmers losing crops to drought, families displaced by floods and wildfires, and millions of people suffering through record-breaking heat.

In 2023, Phoenix experienced 31 straight days above 110°F. In 2024, ocean temperatures reached the highest levels ever recorded, accelerating coral bleaching and threatening global fisheries. Canadian wildfires covered U.S. cities in toxic smoke. Coastal towns face rising seas. These are not “natural cycles.” They are the direct result of burning coal, oil, and gas at unsustainable levels—driven by short-term greed and fossil fuel lobbyists.

And that brings us to a painful irony. TPUSA claims to speak for the working class, for rural Americans, and for future generations. But these are exactly the people being hit first and hardest by climate change. Farmers in Texas and Kansas are watching their yields collapse. Gulf Coast communities are being battered by stronger hurricanes. Urban neighborhoods with little tree cover and poor infrastructure are turning into deadly heat islands. Denying climate change doesn’t protect these people—it abandons them.

But perhaps the worst betrayal is ideological. TPUSA calls itself conservative. Yet real conservatism means conserving what matters—our land, our water, our air, and our future. And in this regard, the Republican Party once led the way.

It was Republican President Theodore Roosevelt who pioneered American conservation. He created national parks, forests, and wildlife refuges. He didn’t call environmental protection socialism—he called it patriotism.

It was Republican Richard Nixon who signed the Clean Air Act, the Clean Water Act, and the Endangered Species Act. He founded the Environmental Protection Agency, understanding that pollution was not just bad for nature—it was bad for people and for capitalism itself.

Even Ronald Reagan, whose presidency is often associated with deregulation, signed the 1987 Montreal Protocol, an international agreement to phase out ozone-depleting chemicals. The result? The ozone layer began to heal—one of the greatest environmental successes in human history.

More recently, conservative leaders like Bob Inglis, Carlos Curbelo, Larry Hogan, and Susan Collins have advocated for carbon pricing, clean energy investments, and bipartisan climate action. Groups like RepublicEn, Citizens for Responsible Energy Solutions, and the American Conservation Coalition are working to reintroduce common-sense environmentalism to the Republican movement. These are not radicals. They are conservatives who understand that freedom means nothing without a livable planet.

Young Republicans increasingly agree. Polls show that Gen Z conservatives are far more likely than older Republicans to support climate action. They’ve grown up in a world of extreme weather, mass extinction, and economic uncertainty. They know the cost of inaction. They see through the oil-funded lies.

So what exactly is TPUSA conserving? Not the environment. Not scientific integrity. Not the truth. They are conserving ignorance—and protecting the profits of ExxonMobil, Koch Industries, and the very fossil fuel billionaires who knew the risks of climate change in the 1970s and chose to deceive the public anyway. (See: Harvard University’s 2023 study on Exxon’s internal climate models.)

If TPUSA is serious about freedom, they must realize that freedom cannot exist without responsibility. There is no free market on a burning planet. There is no liberty when wildfires choke your air, when hurricanes destroy your home, or when heatwaves kill your grandparents.

We challenge Charlie Kirk and TPUSA not to “own the libs,” but to own the truth. Talk to climate scientists. Visit frontline communities. Debate conservatives like Bob Inglis who actually care about the world they’re leaving behind. Break the echo chamber. Lead with courage instead of trolling for clicks.

The earth does not care about your ideology. It cares about physics. And physics is winning.

Sources:

NASA – Climate Change Evidence and Causes: https://climate.nasa.gov
NOAA – Global Climate Reports: https://www.ncei.noaa.gov
IPCC Sixth Assessment Report, 2023: https://www.ipcc.ch
Harvard – Exxon’s Early Climate Models, Science, Jan 2023
U.S. Department of Defense – Climate Risk Analysis, 2022: https://www.defense.gov
Pew Research – Gen Z Republicans and Climate Change, 2023
RepublicEn – https://www.republicEn.org
American Conservation Coalition – https://www.acc.eco
Montreal Protocol overview – United Nations Environment Programme

The truth is not left or right. It is grounded in science, history, and conscience. Conservatives once led on environmental protection. They still can—if they’re brave enough to face the facts.